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fallenneziah · 2 days ago

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Deck the Hall (and Every Other Surface)

Summary: When going to spend Christmas with John's family, Price breaks out the Santa costume. But Santa is giving out more than paper wrapped presents when everyone goes to bed.

Cw: Anal, roleplay, blow jobs, semi-public, pet names, John Price as Santa, readers genitals are as neutral as possible.

A/N: I had this pretty kinky idea in my head and unfortunately because the writing program I was using has been giving me trouble, the project didn't come out white how I pictured it. This is for @the-californicationist . Your smut and writing in general is so delicious and I envy your skills, lol. I don't think my smut is as good as yours. But hopefully, it's still good. Also! The AO3 link to this story is available if you guys want to support it there too. And Merry Christmas from me!

A03 link.

________

John’s hand rested over your thigh, occasionally squeezing it as he drove down the barren road to his family’s house. White flurries blasted against the side of the car and windshield. Car wipers rhythmically waved back and forth to clear a way for John to see. The road ahead was pure white, a dangerous combination of slush and ice, but the tires of John’s truck kept you straight. The radio played the usual Christmas carols and the leather seats warmed by the heaters. You looked away from the frosty window and over at your fiance, a soft smile gracing your lips. His face fixed in a concentrated expression, the lines in his face leading into the salt and pepper chops on his chin. He had let it grow out over the month and it was just a tad fuller than usual. His freshly cut hair under his beanie sprinkled with grey.

You looked down at where his hand rested on your thigh, then at the ring on your finger. You were excited to tell his family, and after John proposed, you felt like you were on cloud nine. It was like Christmas came early for you. When he got down on one knee in front of the warm, crackling fireplace, his skin bathed in the hues of orange and red from the roaring fire. His blue eyes had been lit with the love he had when he first told you he loved you. You slipped your hand along his palm, and he adjusted his grip to hold your hand now instead of your thigh. “Something on your mind, love?”

“Mm, I love you, y’know?”

The concentration on his face melted away slowly for a small smile to grace his lips. “I love you too.” He gently squeezed your hand, his thumb brushing over the band on your finger. He traced it at night too. When he couldn’t sleep or would ponder things, your hand in his larger ones calmed him enough to find rest. Having you next to him was enough, though. In bed when he’d pull you close and set his chin on your shoulder, arms loosely resting on your stomach.

“Do you think your dad will come? If he knows?” You asked. You knew John didn’t exactly have the greatest streak with his father, one of those strict military types who tried to raise men who couldn’t bear to love themselves.

John’s expression returned to the strict, calculated gaze watching the road. “I haven’t gotten my hopes up in nearly forty years, love. I’m not about to start now.”

“I’m sorry.” You murmured. It was touchy for John, but sometimes you were too optimistic for reality to play into.

“Don’t be. He won’t show up. He didn’t for me, so why would he for us?“

“Well, I think we’ll have a good Christmas, regardless.”

—————

You arrived at John parent’s house pretty late that night. The driveway snowed over, though it looked like they’d shoveled earlier. John drove the truck up and parked, and his hand left your thigh. “I’ll bring the bags in.”

“I can help.” You offered.

He lightly shook his head and took the keys. “It’s not much. I’ll bring in the presents tomorrow.” You both hopped out of the truck, your hands sinking into the fuzzy and arm pockets of your jacket. The lack of his warmth next to you forced you forward up the walkway to the house. The front doormat was visible under the thin layer of snow, and the light on the other side of the glass window illuminated the obscured interior. You lifted your hand to the door, the cold air stinging your palm as you knocked.

After a moment, you saw a figure in the glass and the door cracked open, the face of a sweet older woman appearing. “Darling,” she exclaimed with delight, glad to see you. “Where is Johnathan?” She looked past you down the dark driveway.

“He’s just getting the bags. He’ll be right in.”

She nodded and let you come inside and sit by the fire. John eventually came in, the bags weighing down his arms, his biceps flexed and held them up with ease. He walked into the entryway and dropped them just in time for his mother to hug him and grip him. “Oh, Johnathan, glad you could come!” She squeezed him tightly.

You chuckled softly and smiled at John, and he awkwardly returned it over her shoulder. His mother was the only one you knew who got away with calling him Johnathan. Except for you on the occasion.

“The spare room upstairs is waiting for you two, John’s old bedroom.” She teased him, but he ignored it. “Thank you, mum.” He nodded for you to follow, and you did. You helped him with the bags, went upstairs, and got ready for bed. You stripped from your current clothing and into something more comfortable. John slipped into his cotton bottoms and crawled into bed, his arm laying across the bed where you’d faithfully settle every night against his chest. The warmth of his body, paired with his heartbeat, made you feel safe and cozy, his other arm loosely laying over your hip, his fingers tracing ghost shapes along your lower back.

—————

You were more or less used to John’s massive family. He had an older brother and two adopted siblings, both of which had children, and they were rowdy kids. John had warned you the first time, but you were acquainted with them now, nudging them toward their toys or their parents if you didn’t want to concern yourself with them. Of course, as soon as they noticed, the whole family was questioning you excitedly about the new band on your finger. John’s mother practically jumped on him when you told her he’d proposed only weeks ago.

Spending time with his family took a lot of energy, but John was always there to be a barrier between you and them if you looked like you needed to. But later in the evening, John left your side, his palm slipping out of yours with a quick squeeze and he disappeared upstairs. You continued to talk with his sister-in-law, trusting that he’d return quickly.

John came back down the stairs and his sister-in-law took her gaze off you and looked just behind you. The kids shrieked and got up from their toys, bursting into the living room as soon as they saw him. You turned and had to cover your mouth to suppress a laugh. John had dressed in the old red and white, the Santa hat perfectly positioned on his head. His salt and pepper beard complemented the white trim along the edge of the suit. It was thin; the fabric clinging to his chest. You smiled as the kids rushed to him, and he sat on the couch. “Ho ho ho.” He played along and bellowed it, picking up one kid. The parents and cousins all gasped and played along. Santa is in our living room! Crazy stuff.

Some kids were young enough that they wouldn’t be able to tell it was their uncle, even if he said it was him. He looked over at you briefly and saw the signs of the giggle you were holding back in your eyes. He gently tickled his youngest nephew. “What do you want from Santa, hmm??”

He giggled and flopped closer to him, grabbing his arm. “Lego!!”

“Legos??” He scratched his salty beard and nodded. “My elves have lots of Legos lined up for you. You’re on the nice list, after all.”

His nephew’s eyes lit up, but his older niece was already nudging in for her turn, so John switched them. The kids, one by one, told Santa what they really wished they had for Christmas. He got through them all and set the last one to the ground, then winked. “Well, my elves will come through soon, bedtime for you all.” He said, lightly shooing them. Their parents agreed with Santa, the couple’s going to send their children to bed.

The house was quieter for the moment. John’s older brother got out a bottle of wine and poured you and John a glass. The alcohol usually came out when the kids were gone. The night already felt over for you as well, but you took the glass and drank.

The evening passed, until it was late, an hour before midnight, when the adults finally decided it was their bedtime. As the sun sets and the kids finally tucked into bed, John slips downstairs, still wearing his Santa suit. He finds you laughing with his older brother, Tom, in the living room. He clears his throat loudly to get their attention, adjusting his belt. “Tom,” he says.

“Well, Santa’s here.” He saw the body language and slowly got off the couch. He said goodnight to you and disappeared down the hallway.

John smiled and sat down on the couch next to you. He eased into the cushions and patted his knee, clearing his throat.

You looked over at him. The longer he kept that thing on, the more attractive he looked in it. The glimmer of mischief in his eyes said he felt the same. You took another couple of sips of your wine and placed the glass down on the table. “John.”

He patted his lap again and adjusted his knees further apart, taking up more of the couch. The fabric strained across his hips; it wasn’t for such a big man; the belt stretched around his hips, the small portion of hard muscle and fat of his stomach cushioning the leather. “Well? Santa never got to know what you want for Christmas.”

That tone in his voice, no longer happy, jolly kid friendly Santa. You chuckled and lowered yourself onto his lap, your feet stretched out the rest of the couch length. “Hmm. What do I want?” You asked out loud, his hand faithfully finding its place on your thigh, the other embracing your lower back. “Spending Christmas Eve in Santa’s lap seems fitting.” You said, placing your hand on his chest, smoothing one button on the suit. Your fingers splayed over the center of his pecs, feeling the strength of his sternum.

“Maybe Santa should check if you’ve been naughty or nice this year...” His thumb traces small circles through the fabric of your jeans. “What do you think?” He ponders it, focusing on the feeling of his hand squeezing the fat of your thigh through the tight fabric, teasing traces along your hip.

You smiled a little, your fingers curling higher on his suit, teasing the fabric. What do I get If I’m not on the nice list?"

His fingers hook into your belt loop possessively as he feels your hand creeping higher on his suit. “If you’re on the naughty list...” He growls softly, leaning into your ear and kissing the corner of your jaw to coax you further into him. “Santa might just have to keep you up all night, teaching you a lesson... Making sure you know how to behave for next year...”

You swallowed. The words went right to your sex, shooting down your legs and making your body taut with arousal. “Oh, Santa.” You let out a breathy chuckle, his scruffy beard itching against your neck. “I’d hate for you to have to check the list, just for me.”

John considers what you’ve said for a second. He swallows back a groan as the suit strains against the erection that’s pressing up against it. Heat crawls up the back of his neck and he quells it by kissing your neck again, his teeth nipping at the soft flesh. His hand is itching to touch you, push your legs open and make you hump his palm. His free hand moves to cup your cheek, thumb tracing your bottom lip. Compared to your mouth, his thumb is rough but not harsh. He slides his thumb across your lip, groaning softly when your tongue flicks against it. “Maybe...” He whispers, “You could... convince Santa you’ve been good.” His voice drops lower. “Show me how good you can be...”

You squeezed his collar, then trailed your flat palm down his chest to his belt. You squeezed the leather, giving it a tug as you left his lap. His arms tensed. The absence of your body on his made his stomach twist. Your knees settled on the carpet, eye level with his straining erection.

“John,” you pulled the belt open and slid it down, his thick body shifting upward so you could get them down his knees. His thick, hairy thighs, caged in his prick, strained against his underwear. You knew the length under the thin fabric, and your hand dragged along the outline of his member.

John watched you with a stern expression, his wary eyes firm and fierce. They pursued your movements, watching as your hand delicately pulled back the skin on his head, knuckles meeting his hipbone softly. Your fist tightened, stroking back up, his tip weeping down his length, coating it in a sheen of pre.

Your wrist remained loose, dragging up and down, watching his cock grow firmer, veins kinking up the sides. Your hand was slick in pre-cum soon, his cock twitching and dripping between your fingers and through the gap of your index and thumb.

“Careful, little elf��” John smirked a little, his hand reaching out to brush your head. He leaned forward a bit, his thighs opening more, and his hand cupped the nape of your neck to bring you in. He coaxed you right between his thighs, his other hand taking his cock from your hand.

“Good, good job, little elf.” He praised with a few firm strokes to his cock. “Open up, your first present is ready…” His intense eyes watch your face, the flutter of your eyelashes, the way you licked your lips in anticipation. He tapped his cock against your bottom lip, leaving a small string of pre.

“That’s it.” He murmured, guiding you to take his cock between your lips. Your tongue pressed flat against his underbelly and your lips wrapped around him as he entered your mouth deeper. The firm length was familiar and welcome. You pushed him deeper into your throat, free hand pushing into the Santa suit to adjust his balls and squeeze them along with your mouth.

He groaned above you, his hand stroking your scalp, his gaze flicking between watching you and the hallway. His cock twitched and strained. The idea of being so open even in the darkness had him feeling naughty, but your lips were nice.

“Fuck, that’s it… that’s a good elf.” Job. approved, adjusting his hips so he could make shallow thrusts upwards. “Take it deep, darlin’, there ya go- there-“ He grimaced in pleasure, your lips pressing against his groin. Your nose against his trail of pubic hair, and your eyes on him. He shivered when your throat flexed around his prick, saliva dripping down the walls of your mouth onto his length, pushed up against the back of your throat.

Your eyes were a tad red, your lips swollen but tightly sealed around him.

“Good. Fuck, that’s it, little elf,” John said. “Keep sucking, make Santa proud.”

Your head bobbed, his thick length sliding along your tongue and the walls of your throat. Tears pricked your eyes from the exertion, coming up to suck along the tip, saliva leaking from your mouth down the side. Your hand clasped around his head, jerking it off while your mouth sucked one vein along the side.

John grunted, and his eyelids fluttered. He twitched, pre dripping down into the mix of saliva that slicked your hand and his prick. “Fuck, darlin’.”

You looked up at him mischievously, kissing and lapping at the vein, firm in your hands.

“Yeah, yeah- good little elf.” John gripped your head, smacking his cock against your cheek. “Open up… get your next present.”

You followed the tug and opened your mouth for him, his length sloppily pushing back into your mouth. He thrust up into you, holding your chin and head. “Take it.” He whispered, spurts of his cum filling your mouth. He shuddered as he released into you, your tongue lapping at him to get all of it.

He pulled his throbbing, swollen prick from your mouth and gave it a slow, soothing stroke. You opened your mouth, pushing the cum up on your tongue to show him before doubling your efforts and swallowing. Nearly made him hard again, right there.

He clicked his tongue and looked at the clock. “You’re not nearly done. I think you’re still on the naughty list.” He pulled his boxers up and adjusted the pants. The belt hung from his hips loosely as he motioned you upstairs into the guest bedroom.

Quietly, you followed, and he locked the door behind you. He kissed your neck and, reaching around, slowly undid your top. Your heart pounded, your body was warm. His hands opened the buttons on your sweater and pulled it off your shoulders. His kisses trailed down your bare shoulder and back, the itch of his beard following.

“John…” you whispered as you reached back for him. John merely diverted your hands, kissing down your arm and then back up to your neck. He licked your neck and clasped his lips around the skin, nipping it and sucking a hickey into the skin. All to distract you from the hand in your pants, sliding into your linen to tease your sex.

You breathed in sharply, his firm hand cupping between your legs like it was nothing. “Love those pretty noises.” He whispered against your neck, getting his hand wet with your excitement. “That’s it. Who’s a good elf?”

You nearly melted into him, his broad, firm chest braced for you to keep you up, your knees weak but he wouldn’t let you fall.

“Who’s a good elf, Darlin’?”

“Me.” You whispered back, only to whimper when John removed his hand.

“Mm, not yet.” He pushed you onto the bed and worked your pants down your hips. His heart pounded in tune with yours, the jeans coming off and he tossed them across the room. “Lay down, you’re gonna like this present.” He said with a rumble, parting your cheeks.

It made you gasp, gripping your biceps, stomach pressed into the sheets, and instinctively arching your back for him.

John chuckled and licked your taint, listening to your little gasp. It made his belly light with hunger, sealing his lips around your hole, lapping at the tight muscle, firm hands fondling the soft fat of your ass.

“Shit- John.” Your asshole clenched when he lapped at it, his warm tongue pushing in, making itself welcome inside you. Saliva dripped from your hole to his tongue, his beard scratching as he worked. His jaw didn’t stop, licking from the base of your sex to your asshole, flicking the tight ring.

“Open up, love.” He demanded, his hands squeezing you firmer. “Let Santa in.”

You shivered against the bed, a hand pinching your nipple, exhaling your noises halfway into a pillow. His tongue made your body react in kind, leaking pre onto the bed. The flicks of his tongue caught your sex, making you arch and buck your hips softly.

“John-“ You whined, the pillow taut in your hands. John smirked, two fingers replacing his tongue on your taint, pushing past the ring of muscle and into your tight channel.

“Oh-!” Your hips jumped, his fingers curled more, pushing deeper inside and working you open.

“Easy, good elf.” He gave your ass a firm smack, wiggling the fat and soothing the sting with his palm.

“Open up for me. There we go.” Your noises were music to his ears, better than any carol or hymn. He worked you deeper, pinning your back to the back and picking up your hips. He smacked your ass again, your little yelp making him grin.

He leaned back in and sloppily lapped your asshole, his beard picking up saliva and pre that dripped from your sex.

His cock twitched and stiffened against his pelvis, dripping against the bed. He rutted gently against the edge, veins pulsating while he ate you out.

“Fuck, you taste good.” He said between mouthfuls of your ass-cheeks and taint. Eventually, he pulled away and took the belt from his pants. He shoved down the red pants and coaxed your body to his whim. “Such a greedy little elf.” He smacked his wet cock against the hole, slowly pressing it in.

You groaned when he pushed his cock against you, his thick size forcing you open slowly. The wet heat of your dripping hole caved slowly, and he slid in. You could feel his body towering over you, your body trembling, sweat down your chest. “John-“

His hand covered your mouth, making you inhale your own scent off his callouses. You whimpered against him, his warm breath fanning your ear as he pushed in. “Shh, don’t want to wake anyone. Be Santa’s good little elf and let me fill this pretty hole.”

You groaned into the bed, squeezing fistfuls of the bedding against the pillow, your drool dripping down it. His cock seated inside you, filling you up. Your thighs trembled and your knees spread further apart. His hairy, muscular body leaned over you, covering you and placing one massive hand over yours, the other on your hip.

“That’s it.” He kissed your neck, his hips slowly rocking into your ass. “Fuck, nice and tight for Santa.” He teased, his voice low in your ear. His salt and pepper beard grazed your cheek, the hand on your hip snatching you back into his thrusting hips. His fat balls smacked against your sex as he picked up his pace.

You moaned, arching and curling your toes. His hands stopped your squirming, keeping you open as he fucked you. The kinked veins along his cock bulged as he slid out, your hole clinging on tight.

He continued to watch your face, his cock twitching hard when your eyes rolled back from pleasure. “You like that, don’t you, baby?” John whispered, his voice low with desire. “You love being my good little slut, don’t you?”

Your response was a whimper, your body shaking as he pushed back inside you. He watched your mouth open slightly, your tongue darting out to wet your lips as he thrust into your tight hole.

He thrust into you deeper and harder, his hips grinding into your ass. “Oh fuck, you’re so fucking tight!” He hissed, his fingers digging into your hips as he rammed into you.

You cried out, your body trembling with each thrust. Your hole clenched around his thick cock, pulsing with every thrust he made. It felt like fire was shooting through your body, and the pleasure was almost too much to handle.

His beard scratched against your skin as he leaned in to kiss your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. His balls slapped against your ass with each thrust, the sound echoing through the room.

“You like that?” He growled in your ear. “You like having Santa’s cock in your tight little elf ass?”

You whimpered, gripping the sheets tightly. “Yes,” you choked out, your voice high-pitched with excitement. He chuckled deeply, a cavernous sound that pierced the foreground and tunneled in your ears. Your hand slipped down between your thighs, groaning as the bed creaked beneath you. The hat on John’s head had long fallen off, running a thick hand through his hair, shaking his head like an animal while his hips rocked.

Your body shook uncontrollably, your ass clenching around him with every thrust. Your hands gripped the sheets tightly, your whole body trembling with each movement.

His cock pulsed inside you, filling you up completely. The veins along his shaft throbbed with each thrust, and you could feel his heart pounding in time with your own.

As he fucked you harder and deeper, he pulled on your hips, grinding them against his. His beard tugged at your skin as he kissed your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

“That’s it, baby,” John whispered, his breath hot on your neck as he continued to thrust into you. “You’re such a good little elf.” He said, his voice a low rumble as he fucked you deeper and harder. His cock throbbed inside you, pulsating with every heartbeat as sweat mingled on your bodies.

You moaned, arching your back and pushing back against him. Your hole clenched around his cock, milking him for every ounce of pleasure. The bed creaked beneath you, the sound mingling with your heavy breathing and John’s deep grunts as he fucked you senseless.

His hand slid down to your aching nipple, pinching it roughly between his fingers. You cried out, your body convulsing as electricity shot through you. “Cum for Santa,” John growled against your ear. “Come on, love.” He coaxed you, stroking his hand over your head, grabbing a handful of your hair and tilting your head back. He kissed your throat, reaching his other hand to stroke your sex. His cock strained against your quivering frame, your ass fluttering and clenching. A whimper tore from your throat as the pleasure built until you could no longer ignore it. You squirmed and trembled, coming in his hand. He groaned, your orgasm writing pleasure across your face. He pulled out with a slick pop, your hole puckering as he came across your back. Stripes of white landed across your ass and the small of your back.

“Christ, love…” He ran a hand through his hair, smiling wolfishly.

Your hips hit the bed, your back aching against the warm sheets. “John…” You panted heavily into the bed, feeling your heart violently pumping against your ribcage. Sweat dripped down your brow, your lips parted as harsh breaths escaped your lungs. John slowly leaned over you and kissed the corner of your mouth. “Did you like your present?”

You laughed softly, reaching up yo feel his chest with your hand. Rolling over, your hands cupped his face to kiss him properly. His tongue slipped past your lips and your bodies pressed together in the sheets. His hand slid up your thigh to your waist, giving it a squeeze.

“You’re naughty.” You whispered, though your lips formed a smile.

“For you, love.” He pressed his forehead to yours, sharing the oxygen between you. “Merry Christmas.” He whispered.

You chuckled breathlessly and kissed him again, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck.

#call of duty #cod mw2 #cod smut #captain john price #john price cod #john price #john price smut #john price x reader smut #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #christmas cod smut #christmas smut #captain price x reader smut #captain price smut #If my writing program wasnt giving me heck i would have spent much more time on the editing but Christmas is here so - gack!

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itwasntimethatdidit40 · 1 day ago

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❋ It wasn't your fault - Sweet gentle priest!Javi G x hurt grumpy!Joel Miller Javi G helps Joel to accept his loss.

❋ Perfect - Soft Boyfriend!Joel Miller x Curvy AFAB!reader When you're feeling insecure about your body, Joel knows exactly how to get you through it.

❋ Be Still, My Foolish Heart - Soft Single Dad!Joel Miller x Curvy f!reader A meet cute at the clinic where you work leads to finding the best date you could ask for.

❋ Happy Birthday, Little Finch - Jackson!Joel Miller x AFAB!reader Everyone forgets your birthday but you receive an unexpected invitation (wink) that will change the fate of the day. (No spoilers from the original second game, Jackson is totally made up by me)

❋ Guess - Boyfriend!Joel Miller x AFAB!reader Joel guesses the color of your underwear during a dinner at a restaurant… PWP inspired by Guess by Charli xcx featuring Billie Eilish.

❋ Special Needs - DBF!Joel Miller x f!reader You convince Joel that you can help him get more exercise.

❋ Shirt On - Sub!Joel Miller x Soft dom f!reader Joel getting pegged by you while you wear his plaid shirt. ❋ On a razor's edge - Joel Miller x f!reader Joel helps you shave. There.

❋ It Started Out With a Kiss, How Did It Ended Like This? - Young!Joel Miller x f!reader You meet Joel at a party, everything is fine, he’s beautiful… will it end well?

❋ The Right Ones - Soft Boyfriend!Joel Miller x reader Your period comes early and Joel offers to go to the supermarket for you. (written in a neutral way so every person who menstruates can identify with it)

❋ Slow - Joel Miller x afab!reader Drabble. Just pure smut.

❋ It Feels Like Hope - Hot Priest!Joel Miller x f!reader There's a new parish priest in your parish and he's very different from anyone you've ever met.

❋ We All Need Someone - Jackson!Joel Miller x afab!reader Joel says I love you for the first time.

❋ Hold It - Joel Miller x afab!reader (p!ss kink)

❋ Hold it pt 2 - Joel Miller x afab!reader (p!ss kink)

❋ Do you think I'm your babygirl? I think the fuck not - Joel Miller x afab!reader A casual fling with Joel. He calls you babygirl and you get triggered. For reasons.

❋ Something Rotten - Dark!QZJoel x afab!reader x Dark!QZ Tess Dead dove do not eat - Joel and Tess catch you stealing from their apartment. Consequences are inevitable and cruel.

❋ A heart that hurts is a heart that works - Dark! QZ Joel x afab!reader x Dark! QZ Tess Dead dove do not eat - a sequel for Something Rotten that digs a little bit more into reader's mind.

❋ Waffles for Breakfast - Joel Miller x afab!reader Joel makes you breakfast. I mean, he tries really hard.

❋ You know what I love? - just a melancholic drabble about my fav man

❋ A Good Grade - Joel Miller x afab!reader You always thought you would have a future in the art world, until you met Mr. Miller, your professor who decided to make your life hell. What are you willing to do for a good grade?

❋ Please - Joel Miller x gn!reader Filthy drabble about sucking the man off

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x reader #the last of us #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel the last of us #joel miller x you #joel tlou #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x gn!reader #joel miller x f!reader

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wolfcin04 · 13 hours ago

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The sunlight crept through the curtains in Rafe’s room, casting a warm, golden hue on the rumpled sheets. The soft glow of the morning felt so homey to her—a comforting feeling. Maybe it was the morning sun or the sleeping boy beside her that made her feel as though she was exactly where she needed to be. Y/n loved the early hours of the morning when Rafe was fast asleep beside her and Tannyhill was quiet.

“Creep,” he said in a deep, groggy voice.

Y/n froze; she thought Rafe was still fast asleep. Feeling a little embarrassed, she realized she’d been caught in the act.

“Ugh, you faker,” she muttered, swatting his arm lightly. A shy laugh escaped her lips, betraying her embarrassment.

“Mmm, come here,” Rafe murmured, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her close until their faces were just inches apart. Close enough for Y/n to see the stubble on his chin.

“It’s 8 a.m. We need to get out of bed before we’re late to your dad’s brunch,” she said, trailing her fingers slightly through Rafe’s hair. She noticed how his smile twitched upward at her touch.

“No, no, let’s stay like this forever. Just you and me. Forget about them,” Rafe replied, his eyes still closed. He couldn’t help but feel warm and fuzzy in her embrace. If only Topper and the guys could see him now—they’d never let him live it down.

“As much as I would love to, I promised Sarah I’d help her pick out an outfit before we head downstairs.”

As soon as she said that, a loud knock sounded on the door.

“Y/N, I’m having a hair crisis! Please hurry!” Sarah yelled from outside.

Rafe groaned, burying his face in her shoulder. "speak of the devil", he mumbled, voice muffled

“I’ll be out in a sec” Y/n called back, gently prying herself from his grip.

“Be nice today, okay? I know you and your dad have had some differences, but it is his birthday, after all,” she said, standing up from the bed and walking toward the closet to find something to wear.

Rafe sat up and rubbed his hand over his face, trying to wake up.

“Oh, so now you care about Ward?” he asked in a slightly accusing tone.

Y/n stepped out of the walk-in closet and headed into the bathroom without even looking at Rafe.

“No, I care about Sarah and Wheezie. They’re like the younger sisters I never had. I don’t want them caught in the middle of yet another fight, Rafe. Please don’t fight me on this,” Y/n said, her voice echoing slightly in the bathroom.

Rafe followed her, standing behind her as she added the finishing touches to her hair. He couldn’t help but feel that flutter in his chest again. Placing a soft kiss on her shoulder, he rested his chin on her head and gazed at her through the mirror.

“Okay, you have a point. I’ll try my very best—for you, babe,” he said with a slight smile, giving her head another peck.

“Thank you, amor." she replied with a soft smile, her accent faint but familiar. "Now, please shower and meet me downstairs in 20 minutes,” she replied, turning to walk toward the door.

“What? That’s not nearly enough time to do my hair!” Rafe called out after her.

“Babe, you’re bald, remember?” she teased with a soft chuckle as she exited the room.

#drew starkey #obx #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe x y/n #sarah cameron #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagine #outer banks

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dollwhite · 3 days ago

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𝗕𝗥𝗔𝗧

Chapter 𝟭

Made by 𝗗𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘄𝗵𝗶𝘁��

All of their ages are between 19-15(batboys and batsis )

Ps I don’t know if this series is going to have a plot. My asks are open! Also this took a long time to get out because every time i write on here I forget to save it 😔 did u guys know Wally west is my favorite character 😫💗

The youngest daughter of the CEO Bruce Wayne. Only child of m/n L/n.

You were a prodigy, smart, beautiful, athletic, and you could play instruments.

So why was your nickname from the public 𝗕𝗥𝗔𝗧. I mean come on! You an only child on you moms side, and your the youngest on your father side.

How could you not be a 𝗕𝗥𝗔𝗧, you’ve had every thing you’ve wanted. Before you could even talk.

Dolls you had it no matter if they costed 100 bucks. Pony’s toys or real? You had them both, walk in closet? You had one when you were 10.

________________________

You every day life was getting boring, and you wanted a change. That wasn’t bad.. was it?

You don’t wanna be a vigilante, that’s not the life for you. But you wanted better friends, the kind that wanted to be your friend not Wayne’s friends.

was that so bad? You just wanted friends. Even if the didn’t get the best of grades. That’s fine you can help the, study. Or they can just copy off of you. ________________________ And that’s exactly what happened, that’s why you were siting in the front office. With your friends, Winnie, and Theodore. They been best friends since they were 3, they grow up in the same neighborhood. When Winnie’s parents couldn’t find a babysitter, Theodore’s oldest sister let them have a playdate. Did you ever have any play dates? You’ll have to ask Dick when you get home. As your father walked in, your heart sank.. Your face felt like it was getting hotter, you started bitting the inside of your cheek. You an honor student for years, never gotten detention, never got in trouble. Were sitting in the front office, in trouble…

maybe dad will let you off..? No

he’ll probably just ask why you let them copy off of your exam..Fuck how are you going to explain that to him?.. Hes definitely going to ask about it on the why home.

________________________

“Y/n” a deep voice, that you recognize as your father’s. Calls out your name. “Father” you say your voice shaky, as you uttered out the words. “Come on will shall be taking our leave” Bruce voiced out loud, as his feet started making their why towards the door. He probably paid the principal, not to put this on your, or your friend’s records.

He most have paid the principal not to expel Damien, the amount of times. He had threatened to sick his katana up someone’s ass, was a ton. You could probably make a book out of the sayings Damien had.

‘Oh help me, if you do not shut your filthy bladder mouth. I will put my katana up your ass’

‘you see this right here? It’s going up you ass.”

‘why would you fight joker by yourself? That’s like asking for a katana up your ass!”

‘Yeah cause your acting like a katana up your ass, dick-lips’

_______________ guys… I now it’s short but that’s okkk!! 😓

Bye dolly signing out

#conner kent x reader #batfam x fem reader #damian wayne x reader #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfamily x reader #yandere young justice x reader #yandere tim drake x reader #Fem reader #girl reader #OC #reader with OC

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itwasntimethatdidit40 · 2 days ago

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WED. WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONEEEEEE I’M GOING TO CRY MYSELF TO SLEEP THINKING ABOUT COWBOY JOEL 😭

I WANT HIM I NEED HIM I LOVE HIM

You thought you understood what last night was—anger, frustration, both of you taking it out on each other. But the way Joel touched you, the way he kissed you, the way he stayed silent afterward… none of it fits the narrative you’ve been telling yourself.

He’s totally smitten, Jesus Christ 🫠

“Joel’s snoring didn’t keep you up all night?”

Dude, it wasn’t the snoring, it was your brother’s big cock 😏

“I’d rather the ‘I told you so,’” you spit, hot and bitter. “Just say it. Whatever it is. You think I’m too young to know what I’m doing? Too soft? You think I’m a failure? Couldn’t handle the city, the job, the—”

Yeah, she’s me 🥲

When you’re satisfied he’s unhurt, you lead him into the pen and give him a scratch behind the ears. “You’re a good boy,” you whisper again, softly. “We’ll get it next time.”

Awww, the way she’s such a softie for Blue, so on brand for me, it’s just a different animal but the way she treats him is basically the same I treat my babygirl Brienne 🥹

Joel looks sincere, firm. “Desperation’s just another word for fightin’ for what you need.”

This is such a beautiful sentence and so true, ugh my heart ❤️

You look up at him. Feeling exposed, like you’re holding the ugliest parts of you in your palms for him to see. “You think so?”

And here’s another poetic image I love so much 🥲 God, how you even came up with this sentence, it’s so perfect

“You’re tougher than most people I know. And contrary to what you think, I respect the hell outta you for it.”

Awwww please, giggling and kicking my feet 🥹

You’ve spent so long chasing your own impossible standards.

Fighting for your dad’s stoic approval. Suffocating under the weight of other people’s judgment.

You looked into my head and wrote that, right? WTF 😭

He shifts, his hand brushing yours lightly, and the air between you feels thick. “Took me a long time to learn how to ask for help or accept it. Still ain’t perfect at it neither,” it comes out like a confession. “But there’s nothing weak about it. And there’s nothin’ more attractive than a woman who’s not afraid to try, fail, and try again.”

He’s so precious, I can’t even stop, I’m YEARNING

His movements are unhurried. He steps closer to you. He’s so large in the small space. Not intimidating, but stabilizing.

Joel is exactly this for me, my rock, my loyal guy, my everything 🥹

His hand settles on your waist, pulling you close as the kiss deepens. There’s no resistance. You’re pliable and willing. He moves with you naturally, like your mouths were always meant to find each other. He holds you like you’re a treasure, a prize, a wonder. Precious.

OMG 😭🫠

“You have no idea how much I crave this. Crave you. In every way.” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. The reverence in his tone makes your cheeks flush, and you can’t help but smile.

JESUS FUCK ❤️‍🔥

Everything you use to protect yourself falls away as you let his words soak in. You couldn’t hide from him if you wanted to. He’s not just taking—he’s giving, pouring every ounce of admiration and desire he feels for you into each moment. And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself take it in, let yourself believe it.

Look how I’m going to cry for smut, just wait for it, this is so perfect 🥲🥲🥲

You wonder if you should feel more vulnerable being naked beneath him while he’s still fully clothed. But instead, it feels empowering—like this moment belongs to you just as much as it does to him; like every touch and kiss is a promise steeped in devotion.

Ok, I want this or nothing, it's the sexiest thing in the world

He knows exactly what you need next. Filling you with his fingers while he wraps his lips over your clit. The wet noises of his fingers pumping into you are obscene-–but they're nothing compared to the moan you make when you see the way his hips are desperately rutting into the mattress between your legs.

The sight of him losing control, his own need so evident and unrestrained, sends a fresh wave of heat through you. He’s giving so much of himself to you with every movement. It’s not just his mouth or his hands—it’s the way he wants you, completely and utterly, like he’s been holding it back for ages.

This is so fucking HOT, he’s so desperate, I’m going insane 🥵🥵🥵

Your head shakes slightly, determination building even in your post-release haze. “Joel. Now.”

🫠🫠🫠

“You’re gonna get me, baby. All of me. Gonna fill you so deep you’ll never forget it.”

Yes, please, I need this right now

“Fuck,” he pauses after barely pushing into you. His eyes slam shut for a moment before he inches deeper into you, slower than you thought possible. “You take me like it’s what you’re meant for.” His eyes stay locked on yours, watching every flicker of pleasure that crosses your face.

You take me like it’s what you’re meant for… I JUST CAN’T WHY HE’S LIKE THAT ❤️‍🔥

“Feel that?” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble. “Feel how deep I am? That’s where I’m gonna stay, sweetheart. Right here, fillin’ you up.”

You can stay inside me 24/7, I don’t mind, I’m going to live the rest of my life with you inside.

You watch, as he instructed, until you look back up to his face. He’s so vocal, so confident with every word—but his face is equal parts hungry and wrecked. Fucked out. Drunk on you.

OH MY GOD PLS 🫠

Joel sits across from you, his knee brushing yours under the table. You catch him watching you over the rim of his coffee cup, his lips twitching into a barely concealed smile when your eyes meet.

He’s so damn cute 🥹

“It’s better when you’ve got good company,” he says, the corner of his mouth quirking into a half-smile.

oh please, with you by my side I could look at a landfill and find it romantic, I’m not even joking

The thought that this wasn’t just a playful gesture but a quiet claim sends a flutter through your chest.

Awwww OMG I’m going insaneeee

The two of you fall into an easy rhythm, sharing quiet conversation. Joel’s small acts of service don’t go unnoticed—handing you a napkin before you realize you need one, making sure your drink stays full, brushing crumbs off your sleeve with a casual intimacy that feels like it’s always been there.

Again, this is so damn cute, so on brand for Joel. He provides, he protects, he’s the man I love and I need 😭

You expect to see something flare in his eyes bringing up Cody, reminding you of the way he looked at you the first night you came back to the trailer. But, you take his hand and he’s only projecting pride and confidence. It makes you stand taller, knowing he’s a secure man.

Heheheheheh 🥰

He takes a deep breath, his hand shifting to fully cover yours. “I’m sayin’ I want something real with you. Not just sneakin’ moments or pretendin’ it don’t matter. I want to see where this goes.”

Yas, baby 🥹

Awww, this made me so full of love and content, it was exactly what I needed!

And I love that you wrote a softer Joel, he’s so damn perfect, he made me all fuzzy and stupidly happy awww he’s so precious 🥹❤️

This will definitely become one of my comfort fics, you did an amazing job and I loved everything, these two are incredible characters and your writing??? Excuse me, miss, are you trying to kill me, make me so aroused I can’t even stand it and make me cry all at once? 😭❤️‍🔥

Thanks for sharing your art with us!

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

wc: 9k | other fics | rating: 18+ | read on ao3 | PART ONE HERE summary: part two of 'right kind of dream': rebuilding your life, chasing, cans, and hitchin' a ride to the rodeo with team roper joel

a/n: i battled five million error messages to deliver this bad boy so if something is weird or it seems like paragraphs are missing... they might be. i think some formatting got lost. i'll put the whole thing on ao3 asap. i am unsure what i've done to anger the tumblr hq but i apologize

@katiexpunk : here is part two, thank you for being patient, i hope the wait was worth it <3 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, horsegirl!joel, smut, ridin' that cowboy bareback as the good lord intended, no beta-mistakes are my fault for writing at 4am and for spending the afternoon fighting god to get this website to accept me thanks to: @syd-djarin, @auteurdelabre, and @lovely-vamp-princess for support, eyes, and ideas, etc.

Joel wakes you up while it’s still dark, pulling your shirt over your head and pressing a kiss to your temple. “Sleep,” he mutters in a gravelly whisper.

The ache in your body is a stark reminder of everything Joel did to you. Every movement as you roll over sends a sharp jolt through your muscles, and the hollow soreness deep inside you leaves you raw.

For a moment, you lie still, staring at the ceiling, replaying every moment—the way he touched you, the way he looked at you. You can still feel him, the shape he carved out inside of you.

He said nothing. He didn’t gloat, didn’t tease, didn’t even try to explain. The silence felt heavier than any of his words ever could.

You can hear him outside, feeding the horses. You give in, curling up under the blanket for another hour until you figure you might miss your chance for fresh coffee from the visitor tent.

You pull on clothes, feeling hungover with anxiety twisting in your gut. Your head spins and your chest feels tight, but you march toward the picnic tables and get yourself coffee and breakfast.

You aren’t sure what the fuck you’re supposed to do now. You sit at a table, a cup of coffee cradled in your hands, your head pounding as though you’d downed a bottle of whiskey the night before. The anxiety sits heavy in your chest, each sip of coffee doing little to loosen its grip.

You glance across the grounds, your eyes catching on Joel’s familiar silhouette near the fence. He’s leaning against the rail, his dark eyes scanning the crowd, but the moment his gaze lands on you, something shifts.

Your breath catches, the air between you thick and suffocating even from across the distance. Joel tips his head slightly, a subtle acknowledgment, but it only tightens the knot in your chest.

You tear your eyes away, focusing on the coffee in your hands, but the weight of his gaze lingers, pressing into you like a brand.

You keep your distance, avoiding Joel as you move through the motions of the morning ignoring the questions and confusion gnawing at you.

The sun climbs higher, the dry heat pressing down like a heavy blanket, but the rodeo grounds are alive with movement. Dust clings to the back of your throat, blending with the faint, bitter taste of coffee as you linger near the edge of the action, pretending to watch.

You’re halfway to convincing yourself Joel’s not even here when you hear Tommy’s voice. He’s leaning on the fence, one boot propped on the bottom rail, his arm resting loosely on the top. A beautiful woman stands beside him, gorgeous with bold makeup and tight jeans, her dark hair catching the light. She laughs at something Tommy says, swatting at his chest, and he grins down at her like she’s the only person in the world.

You almost keep walking, but Tommy glances up and catches your eye, his grin widening as he waves you over. He calls your name in an easy, smooth tone.

“Morning,” you say stiffly, stopping a few paces away.

The woman glances between you and Tommy, murmuring something to him before she wanders off toward the trailers. Tommy doesn’t miss a beat, tipping his hat to you with that same infuriating grin.

“You sleep alright?”

“What?” you gape at him before rushing to fix your face.

“Joel’s snoring didn’t keep you up all night?”

“Oh.” You shake your head. “No, slept fine. Thanks.”

He gives you another smile, and you move to lean on the fence watching the arena with him. He cocks his head, his eyes still on you.

“You worried about runnin’ Blue?” His voice is warm and light. His dark eyes sparkle with his natural charm, but it’s a genuine question.

You peel the edge of the paper coffee cup, looking past Tommy toward the warmup pen. “Yeah, I guess.” You give him a half smile. “We aren’t gunning for the NFR or anything, though.”

“Somethin’ else weighing on you, darlin’?”

You shake your head. Not willing to reveal anything else. “Heard you were up late partying with the roughstock boys and their fan club,” you accuse in a joking tone, attempting to redirect the conversation. “You aren’t worried about your own round?”

He laughs deeply at that. “Nah, that’s what a heeler’s for,” he says. “I just gotta be in the box on time. Joel’s the one that keeps us winnin’.”

“He’s not a partier?” You didn’t mean to dig, but the question slipped out anyway.

Tommy turns his head towards you, but you keep staring out at the arena, watching the crew setting up the barrels for the first division.

He studies you for a long moment, his grin softening into something closer to curiosity. “Joel’s not like me. Not really.” Your brow furrows. The words twist in your chest, setting your thoughts spinning. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Tommy chuckles again, but there’s something unreadable in his eyes. “Let’s just say, Joel’s always had his head screwed on tighter than mine. Even when he didn’t.” You stare at him, trying to unravel the meaning behind his words, but Tommy just grins. “Joel’s a loyal kinda guy, y’know? Don’t mean he’s blind, though.” He gives you a wink and you feel heat flooding your face. “Just means he wrestles with it longer than the rest of us would.” You scowl at him for that. “And what the hell is that supposed to mean?” Did Joel tell him? Does he know what happened? He shrugs. “Just means you’re a hell of a distraction,” Tommy says, tipping his hat. You laugh it off, but his words linger, your mind racing with questions you’re not ready to ask. You whip your head away again as if staring at the tractor raking the arena can save you from the conversation. But Tommy notices.

He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t tease or prod, but you can feel the weight of his gaze as you swallow hard, your thoughts spiraling. Before you can respond, someone calls his name from across the grounds. Tommy tips his hat one last time. “Good luck out there, neighbor,” he says, his voice light but laced with something heavier. “Don’t let that head of yours get in the way.”

And then he’s gone, leaving you standing alone, your thoughts spinning, your chest burning. You push off the fence and find yourself a spot on the bleachers. They’re dusty and worn. The boards creak as you settle into a spot near the edge. You watch the first few runs.

The riders move with precision, their horses cut through the dirt with sharp, clean turns. The announcer’s voice booms over the speakers, calling names and times, but it fades into the background as you watch.

Everywhere you look, there’s something that reminds you of Joel.

The set of someone’s shoulders as they lean against the fence, the low timbre of a voice nearby, a black felt hat in the corner of your eye. You try to banish the worry and the panic creeping in.

You remember the way he watched you train with Blue. The way he offered advice that sounded more like a challenge. The way his voice cut through the air like he knew more than you. The way he looked at you last night. The raw unguarded expression you’ve never seen before.

You hate the way he makes you feel small and uncertain. You hate the way you can’t stop thinking about him.

You can’t stop remembering the way his hands felt on your skin or his tongue. The heat in his voice and the way he saw through every lie you told.

The sound of someone hitting the dirt makes you snap your head up just as the crowd around you gasps.

In the arena, a horse stands, saddle hanging nearly sideways off of it. A rider scrambles to their feet, brushing dirt from their jeans with a wave. They lead their horse out of the arena and you can hear folks around you murmuring that their latigo broke and their saddle slipped as they turned for home. The horse and the rider are both fine, but your nerves flare.

You know the risks of the sport. But it makes you head back to the trailer early to inspect all of your tack closely for anything faulty. From across the grounds, Joel watches you. He stands near the holding pen, arms crossed over his chest. You haven’t seen him yet. Not really. Not in the way he sees you.

He can feel the tension in your shoulders as you walk, the way you crush the paper coffee cup in your hand.

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t call out to you.

He doesn’t trust himself to. He shouldn’t have touched you last night. Shouldn’t have let his jealousy boil over. Shouldn’t have taken it that far. But now, standing here, all he could think about was the way you felt underneath him. The way you said his name like he was the only thing holding you together. And the way he needs to hear it again.

By the time your division gets called to warm up, you’ve eased your worries about your tack but you’re still swimming in Joel thoughts until you swing your leg over the saddle and settle on Blue’s back.

Then the rest of the world disappears. Your ride starts off smooth, but Blue’s sensitivity is a curse and a blessing. You figure he must be picking up on some anxiety as he gets a little hot, tossing his head and pulling on the reins when you try to bring him down to a jog.

You work out most of the kinks, circling and working on transitions until he feels supple and responsive to your seat and legs. Your nerves and the energy of the other horses still have his ears swiveling and his head perked up as you wait for the rider ahead of you to be called.

You can see most of their run, it’s smooth and they put up a good time. You squeeze your calves asking Blue to head toward the alleyway, but he’s springloaded.

You hold him back as he crow hops sideways for a beat before you’re backing him up. You try making a slow circle before heading in but he’s still jigging with short, bouncy steps like he’s ready to explode.

You’re tense, holding him back and trying to stay calm, making one more circle when he starts hopping again. You can feel eyes on you from the people standing near the gate. Before you can make another circle Joel is striding towards you with swift long steps.

He grabs Blue by the bridle, speaking directly to him in a calming, low voice. You glare at him reactively, but the words die before you can formulate them.

Blue’s jittering slows and Joel leads you up the alley toward the arena. His steps are sure and confident as he guides you. You bit your lip, fighting the urge to snap at him and tell him you don’t need his help. The truth is you do.

“Go get ‘em,” he says quietly, turning to you.

You gather your reins, giving him a tight nod to signal you’re ready. He lets go and steps back. Your heart pounds as you encourage Blue to push off into a lope.

The moment you cross the starting line, everything else fades.

The noise. The nerves. Even Joel. It all melts away. Just you and Blue and the rhythm of his hooves pounding against the soft dirt.

The first barrel comes fast. You guide him into a tight turn, pushing him to pick it up toward the next. His lead change is smooth as you shift your weight, leaning into the next tight turn. You’ve got your body facing the final barrel before Blue pushes off with his powerful hind legs.

You thunder toward the last barrel. His strides are strong and controlled. You’ve just gotta make this last turn without taking it too wide or knocking the barrel over.

Blue doesn’t forget his training, bending around your leg, picking up his shoulder, and you’ve got one stride left in the turn before you’re free to haul ass home.

You’ve got this.

You don’t got this.

The footing is deeper than the arena you run at on Thursday nights. Blue’s hooves slide in the loose dirt. His balance faltering. Time slows and you feel his weight tipping. There’s nothing to do but brace for the impact. His body hits the dirt in a controlled, almost graceful fall.

You hit the ground with a dull thud, the breath knocked out of you as you scramble back giving Blue room to pop back up. He shakes off the dirt, your stirrups slapping at his side and the reins nearly coming over his ears. His eyes are wide, but he stands waiting for your direction.

You catch your breath, chest still heaving from the shock. You dust the dirt off your jeans and wave off the grounds person jogging toward you. “I’m fine,” you call. “We’re fine.” Your voice is steady, but your chest feels like it’s caving in.

You pull his reins over his head and walk toward the end of the arena, keeping your head up and patting Blue on the neck. The crowd claps expressing support and relief that you’re both walking.

Hot, angry tears blur your vision by the time you get to the alley.

You don’t see Joel, staring at the ground as you walk, but you hear him hustling toward you calling your name. His boots crunch against the dirt as he matches your pace.

“You okay?” he asks, low and concerned.”

“Fine,” you snap, not looking at him as you speed up, pulling Blue along faster.

“It was a good-looking run you had going,” Joel says, his tone soft. “You two looked great, making good time. You can’t help the shitty footing—”

“I don’t need your pity,” you cut him off, sharp but trembling. “Not now.”

You don’t see the way his face tightens. The anger is spilling out, uncontrollable, and you don’t care if it cuts.

“Hey, easy.” He tries to interrupt you gently, like a spooked horse. “Nothing like that.”

“You think I’m dumb, too?” You keep jabbing him with questions as you get closer to the trailer, not caring if anyone else hears. “Just another woman that fell into your bed at another rodeo.”

“Enough,” Joel says steady and low, but you don’t hear him.

“Yeah, I’ve heard the rumors,” you snap, your voice cracking. “Didn’t think they were true, to be honest. Didn’t seem like you. Guess I don’t really know you though, do I?”

Joel’s jaw tightens, his dark eyes flashing with hurt, but you’re too far gone to notice.

“You know, maybe I was stupid.” Your voice shakes as tie Blue at the trailer to untack. “But for a while, I thought I was finally starting to feel like myself out here. Like I was where I was supposed to be. And now—” Your words catch in your throat. Tears streaming down your face. You shake your head, stopping yourself from revealing anything else. You turn away from Joel and start running your hands along Blue’s legs to check for any swelling from the fall.

Joel doesn’t move for a long beat. He stands rigid, watching you wrestle with your emotions as you work. Finally, Joel exhales sharply, running a hand over his face. His voice is tight when he speaks. “I’ll leave you be.”

He walks away before you can respond, his footsteps heavy against the dirt. Your shoulders sag as the adrenaline starts to wear off, leaving behind the hollow ache of exhaustion. Your hands tremble as you finish untacking and brushing Blue, but you keep moving, your touch soft against his sweat-damp coat. “You did nothing wrong,” you murmur.

Fresh tears pool in your eyes. “You’re a good boy, Blue. You did exactly what we practiced.” Blue snorts softly, his ears flicking back toward you, and you lean into him, pressing your forehead against the warm curve of his neck. “I was the one who fucked up,” you admit, your words muffled against his dark coat. The truth spills out in quiet, broken pieces.

“I should’ve been watching the other riders closer this morning. Should’ve caught how deep the footing was at the far barrel.”

Your voice drops to a whisper. “Instead of thinking about how I could still feel his hands on me. Or wondering if he’s thinking about me.”

The confession hangs in the air, heavy and unspoken. Blue shifts beneath you, his weight leaning into your side like he knows you need the grounding.

You pull back, wiping at your face quickly before running your hands over Blue one more time, checking for any swelling or signs of injury. You move methodically, your touch steady despite the way your chest feels like it’s caving in.

When you’re satisfied he’s unhurt, you lead him into the pen and give him a scratch behind the ears. “You’re a good boy,” you whisper again, softly. “We’ll get it next time.”

The afternoon stretched on at the rodeo, the sun climbing high and unrelenting.

You do your best to avoid the temptation to look for Joel, though he somehow has a way of being everywhere and nowhere all at once. Mostly it was false alarms and your eyes playing tricks on you. But once or twice you saw him watching other events. He never seemed to notice you, or if he did he gave no indication.

You hadn’t decided if you were avoiding him out of anger, shame, or if it was because the thought of being near him again after last night still made your chest ache in a way you didn’t want to examine. You’re still burying that last thought somewhere deep when you catch the flash of Joel’s red mare striding through the arena.

You can see Joel and Tommy putting their horses through some practice just past the main arena.

Your lips press together into a thin line as you watch them. Joel has a different aura about him when he’s in the saddle. He seems lighter somehow. Relaxed, but with a quiet command. He guides his horse in a way that looks effortless. His body moving in perfect harmony with hers. Tommy’s horse was a little snappier, making quick sharp turns. The pair of riders worked together naturally, movements fluid and precise as they get their practice in.

It was mesmerizing. Infuriatingly so.

You leaned back, trying to tear your gaze away, but your eyes betrayed you, drawn back to continue admiring him. The longer you watch the more it stirs up something unwelcome in your chest. You can’t keep letting him occupy so much space in your mind or your memories.

He’s proven time and again that he doesn’t respect you. He didn’t even argue when you laid it all out in your outburst after your run. He just walked away from you.

But there’s something in the way he carries himself. Something in the way he rides, the way he works with his horse, that hints at something different than what you know. Something that makes you curious.

You blink, realizing Joel’s head was turned toward the bleachers. For a second you think his eyes are on you and you quickly look away. When you glance back he’s already turned his attention back to something else.

Embarrassment wraps around your throat. This is why you had to avoid him. His presence alone seems to demand every ounce of your attention without even trying.

Before you can drown in your own emotional turmoil, an unfamiliar voice calls your name.

You see Cody waving a few rows down and give him a polite smile before agreeing to join him and his friends. Spending the rest of the evening with them feels like a safety buffer.

You don’t see Joel or Tommy when you get dinner. You watch some of the evening events before splitting from the group to check on Blue.

It’s nearly dark as you walk through the grounds. Your chest feels tighter with every step you take as you approach.

You’re hoping you don’t run into Joel—or Tommy and his knowing eyes. You let yourself into the pen, the noise from the announcer and the crowd are muffled by the distance.

There was a stillness in the dusk and the horses were calm.

Blue’s head swivels toward you as you approach. You pause to untie the braid in his tail before stepping between him and Joel’s horse. It’s not until that moment that you realize you aren’t alone. You freeze when your eyes land on Joel. He’s standing between his horse and yours, posture relaxed. The external light on the horse trailer casts shadows over his face making it hard to read his eyes.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt,” you say softly. “I didn’t know you were here.”

He responds with a small shrug and shake of his head. “Nothing to interrupt.”

You still feel frozen, like concrete had been poured around your feet. You’ve been carrying the weight of your earlier outburst in your shoulders, and the rest of your muscles are still stiff from hitting the dirt earlier. Maybe that’s why your defenses feel lower, or maybe something else has shifted, but the next words come out before you have a real plan.

“Look, about earlier,” you start with more confidence than you feel. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. It wasn’t fair.”

He doesn’t respond immediately, gaze fixed on Blue who huffs a warm breath out after nudging Joel’s pocket in search of a treat. When he finally speaks, it’s quiet but firm.

“You had every right to be upset.”

You frown at that, a line pulling between your brows in confusion, and you shake your head. “No, I didn’t. I was angry, frustrated with myself, and I took it out on you. You didn’t deserve that.”

He works his jaw like he’s mulling something over, before letting out a sigh. You move closer to give Blue a scratch under his jaw. The spot that always makes him wiggle his lip. You see Joel’s expression softening.

“I’ve been where you are,” he says finally. “Trying to rebuild somethin’ when it feels like the world’s stacked against you. Trying to remember who you are. What matters most.”

You tilt your head, curiosity pulling at you. His words sound familiar for a moment. That conversation you’d had after stacking hay. “When you bought the property from my dad?”

He nods. “Bought the place after my ex split. Had to sell the business. Start over. Build somethin’ from scratch while trying to figure out what the hell my life was supposed to look like.”

“It’s not as simple as it sounds,” you echo your past statement. He laughs a short, humorless sound.

“Sure ain’t. I know I made mistakes along the way.”

You stay quiet, letting the words hang in the air.

“It’s easy to get yourself a reputation in a small town,” he continues, tinged with regret. “I spent a while chasing somethin’ I couldn’t even name. Thought I could skip the pain with sex, drinking, and spending every weekend hauling to any rodeo I could afford the entrance fees for.”

His confession sinks over you, and you feel a pang of understanding.

“Took a while to figure it that it wasn’t working. Wasn’t who I was… or who I wanted to be.”

“I get that,” you say softly. You drop your gaze, not quite sure how to say it. “Not the same circumstances, but,” you take a slow breath, “I had a reputation back at my old job. It wasn’t true but it didn’t matter. Once people decide who you are, it’s like there’s nothing you can do to change it.

You feel his eyes on you. “That why you came out here?”

“Sort of.” You run your hand under Blue’s mane, feeling the warmth of his body grounding you.

��Hated the job. Spent a lot of time and money in school to get there, and I dreaded going to the office every day.” You swallow thickly, still not sure you can look Joel in the eye.

“Then my engagement fell apart. The more we tried to split up our lives the more I realized none of it was my life. None of it was me. I didn’t know myself anymore. I didn’t know what mattered.”

“Takes guts to start over,” Joel says with a current of finality about it. Like it’s a fact. “Most people wouldn’t have the nerve.”

His words warm something deep inside of you, but they also make your eyes well up. You blink away the tears before you look to Joel’s face. His eyes are steady on yours. You offer a small smile.

“Feels less like guts and more like desperation most of the time.”

Joel looks sincere, firm. “Desperation’s just another word for fightin’ for what you need.”

A heavy lump in your throat makes it difficult to respond, but you push yourself to be vulnerable. “I came out here to figure myself out and to do it on my own. I wanted to prove it to myself. But, then today, I got so caught up in my own head that I almost got us both hurt.”

“That wasn’t your fault,” he says quietly.

“I should’ve been paying better attention. Should’ve asked the other riders about the footing. Or—” your voice cracks and you pause to slow down your spiraling thoughts.

Joel moves closer, his presence solid. Anchoring. “You’re hard on yourself,” he says it soft, but firm. “You’ve got grit. You work your ass off. That’s what matters.”

You look up at him. Feeling exposed, like you’re holding the ugliest parts of you in your palms for him to see. “You think so?”

“I know so. I see you. The way you handle Blue, the balance you strike with your dad, the way you work twice as hard as most folks at a part-time job and still have time to learn the names of every old farmer in 50 miles that comes in once a month.”

You laugh at that, feeling something warm blooming in your chest. His eyes soften, and you’re drawn to the lines on his face.

“I’ve seen the way you push yourself even when you’re tired, the way you’re determined to bring out the best in yourself and others. Even those of us with a history.” He runs his hand along the scar tissue on Blue’s shoulder. The horse that broke a girl’s jaw.

“You’re tougher than most people I know. And contrary to what you think, I respect the hell outta you for it.”

His words hit harder than you expect, and you feel like your ribs have been pulled open, exposing your heart and soul in the moonlight.

You’ve spent so long chasing your own impossible standards.

Fighting for your dad’s stoic approval. Suffocating under the weight of other people’s judgment.

Hearing Joel’s praise feels like a warm blanket wrapping around your shoulders.

“Joel,” you start, but your voice falters. The way he’s looking at you feels intense. Almost too much. You can feel your heart beating against your chest.

The slip in his voice–the raw, unguarded admiration–sends a flush of heat through you. Shit. The praise was already overwhelming, but the way he’s looking at you now—it’s too much. Or not enough.

His centering presence somehow has you rocked off balance.

Suddenly you’re closer, the space between you charged. Humming like one of the generators at the other campsites.

His hand brushes your cheek, gentle but deliberate. Your breath catches in your throat. Everything that has been simmering between you feels like it’s about to boil over.

The rest of the rodeo disappears. Standing there in the moonlight, the world around you dissolves into quiet, only his gravity pulling you closer.

Joel’s hand lingers just long enough on your cheek to make heat crawl up your neck and coil in your belly. Before you can close the distance he pulls back, clearing his throat and stepping away. He moves slowly and deliberately, giving you space to retreat if you want to.

But you don’t.

Instead, you follow him out of the pen, your feet carrying you toward the trailer without thought.

The silence between you is loud, not uncomfortable but full of unspoken words and feelings, each step drawing you toward something you haven’t named yet. When he opens the door and gestures for you to step inside, the creak of the hinges feels impossibly loud.

Inside, the trailer is layered in soft shadows from the glow of a warm lamp. Joel closes the door behind you, and the quiet feels delicate. He stands a few paces away, his hat in hand, his eyes scanning your face as though searching for any sign of doubt.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice low and careful.

When you find your voice, it’s softer than you expected. “Yeah.”

The corners of his mouth lift just slightly, and the warmth in his eyes eases some of the nervous energy bouncing around in your chest. He hangs his hat on the hook near the door. The image of him reaching past you to hang it on the same hook last night flares in your mind and buzzes through your skin.

His movements are unhurried. He steps closer to you. He’s so large in the small space. Not intimidating, but stabilizing.

“Earlier,” he begins, “when I said I respect the hell outta you… I meant it.”

He takes your hand in his, his fingers warm and solid. Your senses are heightened from the emotionally raw conversation, from his touch, and the warm, spiced scent of him wrapping around you. “I see how hard you’ve worked, how much you’ve sacrificed to be here. You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

He cups your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin with a tenderness that makes your heart ache.

“You’re incredible,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with awe.

“And you’ve got no idea how much I—”

He cuts himself off, searching your face. His breath is warm, so close to your face. His lips look soft, so close to yours.

You close the distance, your lips meeting his in a kiss that’s nothing like the night before. It’s tender. Slow. Sprawling. Unspoken affection passes between you with the slip of your tongues and the soft sounds in your throat.

Joel’s mind blanks for a moment, every thought and worry dissolving into the sensation of your lips on his. Softer than he ever let himself imagine, a sweetness he didn’t think he deserved. The warmth of you seeps into him, steadying him even as it sends electricity down his spine.

So soft, he thinks, his thumb grazing the curve of your waist. Every inch of you pressed against him feels like fire and solace all at once. His other hand roams over your back, the delicate shift of muscle beneath his palm grounding him in the reality that you’re here, with him.

Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer, but there’s no space left between you. His palm glides down your spine, lighting you from within. When you break apart, softly breathing in each other’s air, his forehead rests against yours, eyes dark and soft as they hold your gaze.

“You have no idea how much I crave this. Crave you. In every way.” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. The reverence in his tone makes your cheeks flush, and you can’t help but smile.

“I might have some idea,” you reply, your voice just as quiet, but your smile grows wider.

Then he kisses you again, this time with more urgency, his hands moving to your hips and guiding you toward the bed. His touch is everywhere, his lips tracing a path from your mouth to your jaw, down the curve of your neck, each kiss making you feel lighter and warmer.

He continues to pour his confessions into your skin between each article of clothing he pulls off of you. "I thought I’d never have this. Never have you. But here you are, and you’re perfect." The words spill out of him unbidden, each one carrying a weight he’s carried for far too long. His hands tremble slightly as he leaves a wet trail of kisses down your clavicle, between the swell of your breasts, over the smooth fabric of your bra.

"I used to hate that I wanted you, that I thought about having you like this. But I don’t want to stop, sweetheart.” He unclasps your bra and slips the straps over your shoulders, replacing the cups with his palms, kneading your plush flesh. The warmth of your skin beneath his hands sends sparks through him, and he leans in, brushing his lips over the sensitive peaks.

“Don’t want you to stop,” you murmur back. He hums in response to you, rolling your nipples between his fingers before taking his time mouthing, sucking, licking at each of them until you moan and arch toward him.

“I spent too many nights trying not to think about you,” he confesses, his voice dipping lower. “And cursing myself for it.” He shifts down, between your legs to pull your jeans off. It feels like he’s just handed you a piece of himself you didn’t expect to see. The idea of him, alone and thinking about you, shifts something in your mind. It’s not just desire he carries for you. Is it something deeper?

He runs his hands along your bare legs, warm against your smooth skin. He already looks wrecked and he’s still fully clothed. You reach for him, but he shakes his head, dipping to line another path of kisses down your belly, to the sensitive skin inside the top of your thighs. His lips press against your skin, reverent, as if trying to memorize the feel of you beneath him.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice rough with need. His admiration and desire are intense, making you feel stripped bare in an emotional way. He’s not just saying it; he means it in a way that feels different from casual compliments.

The heat of his touch and the need in his eyes have your core aching for attention. His breath ghosting over your swollen cunt makes you shudder with need.

When his lips press against the thin fabric still covering you, you arch into him. You feel him smile against you, breathing deeply before he slides his hands beneath your thighs, cupping your ass to tilt your hips before he descends again.

He kisses and sucks at your clit through your soaked panties without a care for the lewd sounds filling the small room. He doesn’t stop. It’s warm and wet, and the pressure makes you feel needy. You roll your hips seeking more contact, and he moans against you, the sound vibrating through you causing you to gasp and call out his name.

He looks up at you before pulling your underwear off and pausing to stare at your glistening cunt, before taking all of you in. His eyes dart to your face, all of your exposed skin, and back to your eyes.

“I never thought I’d actually get to touch you. To kiss you. Taste you like this.” His voice is hoarse, barely audible over the sound of your breath.

“Please, Joel.” He’s like a dream between your legs. His mouth, his tongue, his hands, his fingers. He uses everything with expert precision, bringing you closer and closer and erasing every worry, every stress.

His hips press into the mattress involuntarily, seeking relief for his throbbing cock as he continues to worship you with his mouth. You thread your fingers through his hair as he dips his tongue inside of you. “Oh, fuck.” Your voice is hoarse and ragged already.

It tips you over the edge, chanting his name like a prayer as your release crashes through you. Your walls contract around his fingers and your muscles tense as he groans into your wet flesh before pulling back.

“That’s it,” he murmurs from between your legs, “you did good for me, baby. You’re so good for me.”

You’re boneless as the words melt into you. But you know you wanted to say something before he made your vision blur.

Your breath comes in slow, uneven waves as you blink at the ceiling, reality slowly settling back into your body. He’s watching you, his eyes dark and heavy with affection and need, and you realize the thought that had slipped away moments ago was this: you need to feel him, to see him.

“Joel,” you manage, your voice low and hoarse, your fingers brushing weakly at his forearm. He raises an eyebrow, a ghost of a smirk touching his lips as he leans closer.

“What is it, baby?”

You swallow hard, the words tangled in your throat as you try to gather your strength. “Off,” you rasp, fingers tugging weakly at the fabric of his shirt.

He chuckles softly, the sound vibrating against your skin as he leans down to kiss your temple. “Gimme a minute, sweetheart. Let me make sure you’re all right first.”

Your head shakes slightly, determination building even in your post-release haze. “Joel. Now.”

Something in your voice snaps the tension in him. His jaw tightens, his hands moving to the hem of his shirt in one smooth motion, tugging it over his head.

The sight of him leaves you breathless. Broad shoulders tapering to a firm waist, his skin golden and littered with scars and years of hard work. He looks wrecked, his chest rising and falling as though he’s been holding himself back for too long.

“Goddamn,” you whisper, as your mouth hangs open. Your gaze drops lower, taking in the soft lines of his abdomen, and the trail of dark hair leading to the waistband of his jeans.

And then, as he unbuttons them and pushes them down, his cock springs free, thick and flushed and so fucking perfect it sends a scalding wave of desire rolling through you.

You’re expression fills Joel with pride. The hunger in your eyes makes his cock twitch, the intensity of your gaze threatening to knock him over right there.

You sit up slightly, your hand reaching for him, but he catches your wrist gently, shaking his head. “Not like that,” he murmurs, his voice rough as gravel. He eases you back onto the mattress, his hands warm and firm against your hips. “Not this time, baby.”

You whine softly, your need pulsing through every word. “Please, fuck, I need you.”

His pupils blow wide, his breathing uneven as he settles between your legs. “You need me?” he repeats, his tone darkening, the words laced with a feral edge that makes you dizzy.

“You’re gonna get me, baby. All of me. Gonna fill you so deep you’ll never forget it.”

The shift in his tone sends a fresh rush of slick between your thighs. His hand trails up your side, his thumb brushing the underside of your breast as he watches you.

“Gonna make you mine. Gonna keep you so full of me you’ll feel it in you every time you move.”

The possessiveness in his voice makes your body burn, your hips rocking up toward him involuntarily. “Joel, please,” you beg, your voice raw and edged with frustration as he drags the blunt head of his cock through your slick folds, teasing you.

You gasp as he reaches the deepest part of you, his hips flush against yours, his cock filling you completely. “Look at you,” he coos. “Such a good girl for me.” The sensation is overwhelming, every nerve ending sparking to life as he stills for a moment, letting you adjust.

“Feel that?” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble. “Feel how deep I am? That’s where I’m gonna stay, sweetheart. Right here, fillin’ you up.”

Your walls flutter around him, your body already begging for more. “Joel,” you whisper, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Move. Please.”

He obliges, his hips pulling back before driving forward again, dragging out the intensity of every sensation. His forehead drops to yours, his breath hot against your lips as he whispers praise between each movement. “You’re so good for me, baby. So damn good.”

Your body writhes beneath him, the pleasure building with each heavy stroke. “More,” you whisper. “Please, Joel. I need more.”

The last of his restraint dissolves as he grips your hips and begins to move harder, faster, his cock hitting so deep you swear you can feel it everywhere. The pace steals the breath from your lungs, threatening to consume you.

“That’s it,” he growls, his voice rough and unrestrained. “Take it. All of me.”

Your cries fill the air, his name falling from your lips over and over. His hands hold you steady, keeping you exactly where he wants you as he claims you.

“Look at you,” he rasps, his gaze locked on the spot where your bodies meet, where his cock disappears every time he sinks into you. “So perfect, takin’ me so well. Made for this. Made for me.”

You watch, as he instructed, until you look back up to his face. He’s so vocal, so confident with every word—but his face is equal parts hungry and wrecked. Fucked out. Drunk on you.

Again it’s the deep satisfaction you get from his unrestrained desire that makes you come with a blinding intensity. You try to tell him how close you are before you’re violently sucked into the sensations.

Your walls clench around him, making him shudder and groan. You try to beg him to come too. To fill you up. You’re unsure if the words make it past your thoughts, but he’s pulled into it with you either way.

Moments later, a deep groan vibrates through his chest as he tenses and his hips jerk against you. It feels like bliss, the sensation of his cock pulsing within you, the heat of his release coating your walls as they flutter around him.

The room falls into a warm quiet, the only sounds are your ragged breaths and the faint sounds of people laughing and shouting at another campsite, reminding you the rest of the world still exists.

Joel’s weight presses into you, grounding you in the present. He doesn’t pull away, softening inside of you as you breathe through the aftershocks of your orgasms.

“Stay with me,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible as he presses a kiss to your temple. “Just stay with me.”

He shifts you both just enough to hold tight against his chest, his lips brushing your temple as his hand smooths down your side. “So good,” he murmurs, “so perfect,” voice rough but soft in a way that makes your chest ache.

The early morning sun stretches over the rodeo grounds, bathing everything in a wash of pink hues. You wake to the soft hum of voices outside the trailer and the thud of a bale of hay being dropped just outside the trailer.

Joel’s weight shifts beside you as he stirs, his arm tightening around your waist for a moment before he lets out a soft, sleepy grunt. The sound pulls a smile to your lips as you turn to face him. His eyes blink open slowly, still heavy with sleep, and he offers you a lazy smile that you mirror involuntarily.

“Mornin’, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice gravelly and low.

“Morning,” you whisper back, your fingers brushing over his stubbled jaw.

There’s a content silence between you before a loud knock rattles the trailer door, making you both jump. Tommy’s voice rings out cheerfully, "Y’all better get movin’ if you don’t wanna miss breakfast."

Joel groans, dropping his head back against the pillow with a dramatic sigh. "That boy’s got the worst damn timing."

You stifle a laugh, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before sliding out of bed to get dressed. Joel watches you for a moment, his gaze warm and unguarded, before he stretches and follows suit.

The three of you sit at a picnic table near the cook tent, balancing plates of eggs, bacon, and biscuits as the camp buzzes with early morning energy. Joel sits across from you, his knee brushing yours under the table. You catch him watching you over the rim of his coffee cup, his lips twitching into a barely concealed smile when your eyes meet.

Tommy, oblivious as ever, chatters on about their schedule and the competition, occasionally tossing in jokes that have you laughing despite yourself. Joel leans back in his seat, his body language is relaxed but his eyes are constantly flicking to you.

When Tommy excuses himself to check on their horses, Joel leans forward, his voice low and teasing. “You’re not real subtle, you know.”

You shoot him a mock glare, your cheeks warming. “Says the man who’s been staring at me all morning.”

“Can’t help it.” Joel shrugs.

Later, you find yourself perched on the edge of a fence near the arena, watching Joel and Tommy warm up their horses. Their movements are fluid and synchronized; you openly admire their skill.

Tommy tips his hat to you with a grin as they pass, and you wave back, your gaze inevitably drifting back to Joel. He glances your way, his dark eyes meeting yours briefly, and the corner of his mouth lifts in a small, private smile that makes your heart skip.

The arena is alive with energy as their division gets underway. You lean against the rail, your fingers gripping the cool metal as you watch Joel and Tommy back their horses into the box.

The chute gate flies open, the steer bolting into the arena with Joel and Tommy in swift pursuit. Joel’s rope swings in a perfect arc, catching the steer cleanly around the horns as Tommy moves in to secure the heels. The crowd cheers as they pull the steer to a stop, their time flashing on the scoreboard.

The announcer calls their time and updates the standings. Joel and Tommy have the best time in their division so far.

You can’t help but cheer, your voice lost in the noise of the crowd as Joel and Tommy ride back toward the holding pen, their smiles wide and triumphant. Joel catches your eye as he passes, tipping his hat to you with a grin that makes your stomach flutter.

When they dismount near the gate, you meet them with a smile. "You two make that look way too easy."

Tommy laughs. "He’s the header," he tilts his head toward Joel. “I can’t do shit if he misses.”

Joel shakes his head, deflecting the comment.

“It’s a team event,” you counter. “Both of you are good at what you do.”

“We should bring her with us more often,” Tommy jokes.

Joel gives you another warm look with unspoken words.

“Your head wouldn’t fit in your damn hat if you had someone talking you up after every run,” Joel mocks. As they both swing their legs over the back of their saddles. You turn to watch as they lead their horses back to the trailer. You want to follow and stay close to Joel for the rest of the day, but you stay put.

Trying not to let Tommy in on whatever’s happening between the two of you until you figure it out for yourself. Instead, you head back to the fence to watch the next pair of team ropers. You’d rather be near him, but staying put feels safer—for now.

The afternoon sun dips lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the rodeo grounds. You sit beside Joel on the bleachers, the two of you a quiet bubble of calm amid the hum of spectators around you. The events continue below—tie-down ropers hopping into the dirt, saddle bronc riders gripping for dear life trying to stick it out for eight seconds, bareback riders up next.

Joel leans back, one arm draped across the bench behind you, his body close enough that the heat of him radiates against your side. He’s quiet, but his presence feels steady and grounding. Every so often, his knee brushes yours, the brief contact enough to send a subtle thrill through you.

“You doin’ all right?” Joel asks, his voice low and soft. His gaze lingers on you, dark eyes warm but searching.

“Yeah,” you say with a small smile. “This is nice. I didn’t think I’d enjoy just sitting and watching this much.”

“It’s better when you’ve got good company,” he says, the corner of his mouth quirking into a half-smile.

Your cheeks warm, but you’re spared from responding by the announcer introducing the next rider. Joel shifts beside you, his attention briefly pulled to the arena. You let yourself steal a glance at him—the sharp line of his jaw and the quiet confidence in his posture. He catches you looking and tips his hat, the subtle smirk that follows sending warmth blooming in your chest.

As the next rider lines up, Joel pulls his hat off, setting it on your lap. You blink, startled, and look at him.

“Put it on,” he says simply, his tone casual, but there’s something in his eyes—a quiet intensity that makes your breath hitch.

You hesitate for only a moment before lifting the Stetson and settling it on your head. It’s big, a little too big, but it smells faintly of leather and him. Joel’s gaze lingers on you, his lips curving into a soft smile that feels like it’s meant just for you.

“Looks good on you,” he murmurs, his voice low enough that only you can hear.

The weight of the gesture settles over you—the tradition, the meaning behind it. The thought that this wasn’t just a playful gesture but a quiet claim sends a flutter through your chest. You’re not sure what to say, so you lean into his side slightly, letting the moment and the warmth of him settle over you like a blanket.

Later, as the afternoon begins to mellow, Joel takes your hand and guides you to the cook tent for dinner. It feels almost natural to walk hand in hand, weaving through the crowd of people. The smell of barbecue wafts through the air, mingling with the sounds of quiet conversations and laughter from the other riders and their families.

Joel insists on getting your plate, waving you off with a playful, “Sit tight. I’ll take care of you.” You settle at a nearby table, watching as he weaves through the crowd with ease, stopping to exchange a word or two with acquaintances before returning with two heaping plates.

For a moment, it’s easy to forget you’re at a rodeo. The noise and bustle fade into the background, leaving just the two of you in a comfortable bubble of companionship. Joel’s low chuckle as you tell him a story about your first job, the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles, the warmth in his voice when he says your name—it all feels so natural, like this is exactly where you’re supposed to be.

As the sun begins to dip lower, casting a golden glow across the grounds, Joel stands and offers you his hand. “Come on,” he says, his voice soft but firm. “Let’s find a good spot for the bull riders. We can cheer for your new friend.”

He leads you back toward the bleachers. The two of you settle in as the crowd starts to gather, the energy of the evening event buzzing around you. Joel drapes his arm casually along the back of the bench again, his fingers brushing lightly against your shoulder. It’s a small gesture, but it grounds you, making you feel like you’re exactly where you belong.

Tommy and the woman you’ve seen him spending most of the weekend with join you to watch a few rounds. You tense as they come toward the steps, shifting to create space between you and Joel, trying to seem casual. You feel Joel’s eyes on you, but he doesn’t say anything about your move.

Tommy shoots you a wink before they take the seats next to you. It makes you squirm, but you tell yourself he’s always just playful like that. Too charming for his own good.

They stay and chat long enough to finish their drinks before heading back to watch the rest of the event with her group of friends.

Joel stays seated beside you, his arm still draped casually along the back of the bench, his other hand resting on his thigh. There’s a comfortable silence between you, the kind that feels like its own kind of conversation.

Finally, Joel clears his throat, turning slightly to face you. There’s a flicker of hesitation in his eyes, but it’s quickly replaced with something earnest and determined.

“I know this might be the wrong time to bring this up,” he begins, commanding your attention just with the timbre of his voice pulling at your heart, “but I don’t want there to be any misunderstanding about where I’m at.”

You tilt your head, curiosity piqued. “Where you’re at?”

He nods, his gaze holding yours. “Look, I know your dad’s a good man, and I don’t want to cross any lines. But I also don’t want to miss my chance with you.” He pauses, his hand brushing against yours where it rests on your lap. “I don’t want this to be our only day together, and I won’t have you sneakin’ out your bedroom window and hoppin’ the fence to see me. S’just not the kind of man I am.”

Your heart stutters as his words sink in. There’s no wavering in his voice, no attempt to downplay what he’s saying. He’s laying it out plainly, his honesty disarming in a way you didn’t expect.

“So what are you saying?” you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Your chest swells. You nod slowly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I’d like that.” Relief washes over his face, and he leans close to you.

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “Well, if you’re such a true-blue cowboy, you’re gonna have to be the one to tell my dad.”

Joel nods. “I’ll handle it.” His voice is quieter, but honest. His gaze seems to look a little far away.

You squeeze his hand. “We’ll handle it.” You give him an encouraging smile. “Don’t have to do everything by ourselves right?”

He gives you a warm look. “Right.” He dips toward you for a chaste kiss. It’s sweet and playful. “Just don’t make me wait too long to take you out proper,” he rumbles as he pulls his head back.

You laugh airily, leaning into his side as he pulls you closer. The warmth of his arm around you, the weight of his hat still on your head, and the quiet promise of what’s to come settle over you, the world around you fading into a comfortable hum of possibilities for you and your cowboy Joel.

thank you for reading! pls let me know what you think <3

dividers by @/saradika-graphics tags for babes in case they want some cowboy joel: @lovely-vamp-princess @gothcsz @auteurdelabre @adoreyouusugar @swankyorange @itwasntimethatdidit40 @ivoryandflame @indiegirlunited @syd-djarin @harriedandharassed

@bbyanarchist @94namkooksworld

#pedrostories #pedrostoriesgift24 #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #cowboy!joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller #the last of us

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ghoulfuckersincorporated · 1 day ago

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Since we miss our favourite irradiated cowboy Cooper Howard - do you have any thoughts about being in an actual relationship with him post war? What would that look like? I loved your Hancock hc‘s, he’s the cutest 🥹 also wishing you safe and restful holidays

Yes, Anon, I have plenty of fluff/serious relationship thoughts about my man Cooper Howard. I really enjoyed doing the Hancock ones, as he's so easy to imagine being domestic with, especially if you go the romance route with him. Cooper has great potential as a long-term partner as well, if you're willing to be patient for a while...like, really, really patient. Preternaturally patient.

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul Fluff Headcanons

Once you break through the mile-high walls the man has up around him, he's very...marriage-minded, dare I say? He knows that, hard and detached as he's become, he's not letting just anyone close enough to know him intimately. Anyone he deems good enough for that is obviously spouse material. He allows himself to long for some semblance of family from time to time, when he feels his most vulnerable. Of course, he never imagined he'd actually have one again, so lonely for so long that he's nearly forgotten what truly enjoyable company feels like. Cooper loved being married, loved being a dad, and the moment you become serious enough, he remembers exactly how much.

Even if the two of you don't have any kind of marriage ceremony (they do exist in various forms, still, but not like he would like if he's honest with himself), he'll ask you to marry him and refer to you as his spouse when the time feels right. Calls himself your husband proudly (though exercises caution in certain company). Takes his new marriage every bit as seriously as he took the first one. Is absolutely petrified of losing you or running you off, as he remembers so vividly just how badly losing his first wife hurt.

He'll never give up looking for Janey, no matter how futile that search may sometimes seem. If you aren't supportive of that search, you aren't the one for him. The man will never know true peace until he knows what's happened to his daughter. It'll mean the world to him if you show interest in helping him, or even just show that you care.

He's less emotionally honest the closer the two of you become, despite how counterintuitive that may seem. The more he cares about your emotional wellbeing, the more likely he is to keep things from you for what he perceives is your benefit. You have plenty to worry about, he thinks to himself; he won't burden you with his troubles on top of it. Besides, it's his job to take care of you. That's what he signed up for when he became your husband. It can be quite torturous at times, as you'll be able to see something is bothering him or stressing him out, but he won't talk about it unless you basically nag him enough to force him to confess out of frustration (and even then, he won't communicate whatever it is very clearly because he'll be speaking out of anger). It won't be easy to convince him to be a little more honest, but it isn't impossible.

Cuddly. Would never use that word to describe himself, but he's been so touch-starved for so long that once he gets a little taste of human contact again, he can't get enough. Craves your touch constantly once he finally opens himself up to it. The cuddliness doesn't come out overnight, though; it starts slowly, him lingering after sex, holding you a little closer, a little longer. Sitting close enough that your arms touch. Moving closer when you sleep until your bodies are touching when you wake up. Once you're comfortable, he wants you in his lap basically every waking moment of down time the two of you have, and tends to get his way when you have enough privacy. Doesn't even really engage with you unless you engage first, just wants you there with him while he cleans his guns or whatever he's occupying himself with. If you aren't cooperating, he'll just pull you into his lap as you pass by and keep you there. Struggle all you like; you're where you belong.

I mentioned Hancock being a fan of having a "domestic schedule", and Cooper's much the same way. Though it doesn't occur at the same time each day because you two are often on the move, he's quite partial to a routine when you stop for the night. After you've had a look around and unpacked the few things you need, he likes to have a little supper together before settling in for some quiet time. Enjoys cuddling and pillow-talking with you until you fall asleep; sometimes he just stays there and holds you all night afterwards. Makes you breakfast when you wake up, even if it's just heating a can of something over the fire. The ritual of it all brings him a lot of comfort.

Acts of service fiend. To Coop, the best way to show someone you love them is to lighten their load, to make their life easier and more enjoyable. He's always felt that way, and the feeling has only intensified over the decades of struggle. Once, he would have been able to spoil you much easier, to bury you in gifts to attempt to supplement the time he wasn't able to give you. Buy away your problems. Being able to pay other people to perform services for you also makes it easier to spoil your spouse. He does his best, though. Carries all your stuff, takes care of your weapons and armor for you, makes sure he's stocked up with whatever medical supplies you could need. Spends extra caps on your favorite foods. However, because these displays are his primary way of showing his affection, he gets insanely jealous if you let anyone else do any of the things he usually does for you, especially another man.

#cooper howard #prewar!cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #cooper howard headcanons #the ghoul #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #the ghoul headcanons #submission

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lightdancingwords · 2 days ago

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Come Find Me - Part Eight

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader

Series Summary: You are a new arrival to Big Sky, Montana, and found gainful employment with the local insurance department next door to the sheriff’s department. A whole new life with your past haunting you, while Beau is still dealing with the entanglements with his ex-wife. Can either of you succeed in overcoming your ghosts?

Word Count: 3,369

Tags/Warnings: Fluff, mentions domestic violence/intimate partner violence, mentions police work, a little bit of angst, communication problems, profanity, discussion of teen sex (18+ character)

A/N: Comments, Likes, Reblogs, Kind feedback are always highly appreciated. Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! Please see this post regarding future story posts.

Divider: credit to @tsunami-of-tears

Chapter Eight: A Bump In The Road

It had been almost a week since you and Beau went on your official ‘first’ date. Life complications kept interfering and being a sheriff meant Beau was busy, especially when he was coordinating calls about cars sliding off the road and citizens needing help.

You absolutely understood and had no problems waiting… because now you knew something was happening with him. Every time you flashed back to that kiss, to that restaurant, you felt your heart swell with love and adoration.

Doris caught you that Monday morning with the goofiest smile on the planet and keyed right in. “Well, it’s about damned time!”

You blinked at her, startled. “About time..?”

“Oh don’t get me started with your innocent look,” she said with a fond scoff. “Beau’s been walking about with the same silly smile.”

You couldn’t help it, you grinned. “Really?”

Doris rolled her eyes and smiled. “Yes, really. He isn’t on Cloud Nine. I think he’s in Cloud Heaven.”

Your smile warmed and widened. “We kissed,” you confessed. “He took me to Ciao Bella and oh, Doris… it was wonderful.”

“I’m glad,” she said, and there was a firmness to her tone that spoke volumes. “You two deserved some happiness.”

You paused, then admitted, “I didn’t think I could trust again, Doris. But every step of the way, Beau proved I could, even when I didn’t ask him to.”

“He’s a rare man,” she said with a nod. “Stubborn, Lord yes, but a good man.”

“I’m scared.”

Doris studied you for a long moment, then said, “It’s okay to be scared. Even when I knew it was going to happen, I was scared of facing this life alone without my Stan. I loved that son of a bitch and I also hated him. When he was gone and I was free, Adam snatching me up terrified me.”

“How… how did you get over it?” You dreaded asking that question. Doris seemed so strong, you envied her strength of character. You hated how you constantly felt weak.

“I did it anyway. That fear only works if it wins in holding you in place. So do it scared.”

You thought back to how you finally confronted Beau. It worked, because it gave him the kick he needed… and where your relationship was now.

“Do it scared,” you mused.

“Exactly.”

You thought about that all day as you fielded phone calls from clients who needed their insurance because they apparently forgot how to drive in snow. Just as you were grabbing paper from the printer, you heard the door chime. “Hi, I’ll be right with you,” you said absently, and then turned around.

With a start, you saw it was Emily! With a smile, you got up and greeted her. “Emily, hey! Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

“Hey Y/N,” she said with a shaky smile.

That cued you into realizing something was up. “Is everything okay?”

“Um… can I talk to you? A-and you won’t tell my dad?”

Your brows swooped up. Carefully, you sat back down and regarded this young woman. You recalled Beau telling you Emily had just turned eighteen, so legally, she was an adult. But she was also just a kid….

“I can’t make that promise, Emily,” you said gently.

“It’s nothing bad! I just… I can’t ask my mom because she’s my mom, but I also need to talk to a woman.”

Baffled, you stared at Emily. Alarmingly, you worried if it was because maybe she was pregnant and wanted a ride to an abortion clinic. “I… um…”

“C-can I just… tell you?”

You nodded, praying you wouldn’t be caught in a situation where you’d have to help someone in a difficult situation.

“So… I’ve been with this guy, Tyler, for a few months now. He… I guess he’s my boyfriend—”

“You guess?” you asked in disbelief.

“We never really made it official,” Emily said defensively. “He said he wasn’t ready and I didn’t want to be one of those girls who pressured the guy, you know?”

Oh God. You had an inkling where the conversation was going, and prayed you were wrong. “Yeah, I’ve… been there. Go on, Emily.”

“Well, Tyler wants to take me on this really romantic date and… I think he wants us to do it.” The way she fidgeted made you think of Beau, and you wondered if he was ever an awkward teenager.

“‘It’?”

She blushed, and looked away skittishly. “You know… it.” She dropped her voice to a loud whisper despite no one else was in the office with you. “Sex.”

You found yourself wishing a giant sink hole would form and swallow you up. You actually waited several seconds, before deciding you weren’t so lucky.

“Emily… are you a virgin?”

Her face turned redder and she ducked her head. “Oh God,” she said, rubbing her face. “I… y-yeah. I really want it to be great and I really like Tyler. I just… don’t know what to do!”

“Emily, this is really something you should talk to your parents about—”

“No, I can’t!” She let out a breath. “Dad would turn all red and stutter and mom… when she gave me the ‘talk’, she kept harping on how love is really special and…”

“You felt patronized and shamed at even thinking about sex without love,” you hazarded. For some reason, Carla gave you that impression. Emily confirmed it a moment later.

“Yes! And I just… oh God, this is so embarrassing!”

She had no idea. You took a breath and decided to do your best. “Emily,… I was in college before I slept with a guy. We were both rather drunk and it was so embarrassing, I ended up being single for a year after that.”

Her eyes widened at your bluntness. She leaned forward, listening.

“Sex… can be really great. Exciting, even, especially if it’s with someone you have great chemistry with… but you shouldn’t rush into it.” You tried to articulate your thoughts. “You shouldn’t have sex just to get it over with or think it’ll make the guy love you. You should have sex when you feel ready for it. Whether it’s a one night stand or the beginning of a relationship, you need to be the one who decides to take that step for the right reason.”

Emily pondered that, biting her lower lip just like the way Beau did when he was lost in thought. “Does it ever get easier?”

“Relationships?”

“Yeah. Like… it’ll get easier… right?”

“I wish,” you said with a rueful smile.

“Ugh. Great.” She fixed a curious look on you. “Is it getting easier with my dad?”

“It is, actually,” you admitted. It was so weird having this conversation with Emily. She was your—God, did you dare call Beau your boyfriend?—she was Beau’s daughter.

“Can I ask how did it change?”

You thought of a random text message that you boldly sent, of the way you confronted him after he began avoiding you. Of how he gave you the space you so desperately needed, that when it finally happened, it was perfect.

“I found my voice and I used it,” you said. “I took that bold step, put my heart on the line, and I got so lucky.”

“Wasn’t it scary doing that?”

“God, yes,” you admitted with a breathless chuckle. “Your father could’ve ignored me, turned me away, but he didn’t, because we were actually wanting the same thing. A relationship works when the two in that situation feel the same way.”

In that moment, you caught a glimpse of the person she might turn into. Wise, intelligent, with enough sense of humor to balance her out. “Thanks, Y/N… I really needed this.”

“You’re welcome,” you said kindly. “I hope your decision is, whatever it turns out to be, makes you happy.”

“Thanks.”

—

“God, darlin’,” Beau grumbled over the phone as you drove home Friday night. “It was supposed to be our third date and instead I have to cancel, again. I’m about to go mad.”

You chuckled. Beau sounded so frustrated, because even as he grumbled, he’ll do his job. He wouldn’t leave people without help. Oh, he could have assigned his deputies to it, and he was, but he was one of the rare specimens of leadership where he actively participated as well as ordered. He refused to sit in his warm trailer while people were out in the cold.

Montana had the rare bout of snow every night and chilly days that left slick patches of ice everywhere. Friday night was the first night in a week that didn’t have snow. However, there were issues with black ice and a particularly bad accident on a bridge led to numerous calls to redirect, assist, or otherwise manage.

“Well, TGIF? You can always stop by afterwards and we can at least see each other,” you suggested as you carefully turned a corner.

“Careful there, darlin’,” he said, and a trace of flirtatious energy came through. “I just might use that invitation to neck you all night.”

The mental image of your neck covered in hickeys had a flash of heat through your core. “That actually sounds like fun. I’ll pencil you in up until midnight.”

He groaned through the phone. “Christ, darlin’. Just midnight? I was thinkin’ at least ‘til dawn.”

“Someone’s ambitious,” you replied, your voice rich with humor.

“Someone has a gorgeous neck that I wanna—Jesus Christ, Pop!” You heard him cuss a blue streak, the phone held away. “Just five minutes, darlin’,” he sighed when he returned to the phone. “Just five goddamned minutes with my girlfriend. That’s all I ask. The universe is conspirin’ against me.”

Your breath hitched at being called his girlfriend, and smiled shyly. “No matter how late it is tonight,” you decided then and there, “I want you to come knock my door.”

“Yeah?” He sounded so hopeful, it warmed your heart.

“Yeah. Knock on my door, Beau.”

“And what will I get when I do?”

“The best kiss this side of the Mississippi,” you offered, pulling into your driveway.

“Now that, darlin’, will make putting up with this insanity worth it,” he declared. “Best prepare those lips of yours. I’m claimin’ them tonight.”

You grinned. “I look forward to it.”

“I gotta go, darlin’, but…” He paused and you wondered at the hesitation. “I’ll see ya tonight.”

—

It was supposed to be a quiet night. Some tea, maybe a book to read. A chance to spend a minute with Beau. Everything positively domestic, peaceful, something you needed after the weeks of heightened anxiety and the mess with Mark. Instead, you got a call.

From Emily.

Seeing her name pop up on the Caller ID surprised you. For a moment, you couldn’t recall why she’d be bothering you late on a Friday evening. Then you remembered it, her visit to your office.

“Hello,” you answered.

The sudden crash of sobbing and a partially hysterical Emily was not what you expected.

“Emily?” You sat up straighter in your easy chair. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“C-can you come get me?” she asked, hiccuping as she swallowed air to calm herself down.

Dread flooded your being. What if she’d been—You couldn’t even finish that thought out of dread. “Of course I can,” you said instantly. “Where are you?”

She rattled off an address. “I… I got into a fight with Tyler,” she said sobbing. “I’m at the gas station. He refused to take me home.”

Anger boiled in your belly. Tyler was definitely rapidly going down the list of men you disliked. “I’ll be right there,” you said firmly, getting out of your easy chair. “Just hold on, okay?”

“Okay,” she said, sniffling in the background.

You hung up and quickly grabbed your winter boots and coat. You barely paused to snatch up your car keys and headed out the door, the sound of her crying echoing in your mind. You should call Beau, you knew that, but he was busy and Emily… she needed a friend more than a parent.

It took you longer than you liked to get to the gas station due to the black ice. Your car barely crawled across the ice and you didn’t want to be added to the list of people needing help. When you got there, you saw her outside, eyes red-rimmed and puffy. At first glance she looked okay, but you had to make sure.

“Emily,” you said, getting out of the car.

She let out a sob and nearly bowled you over in a desperate hug. “I’m so sorry, I just didn’t know who else to call and if I told my dad he’d kill Tyler and—”

“It’s okay,” you said soothingly, cutting her off. You wrapped your arms around her and rubbed her back. “Just tell me: are you okay? He didn’t… he didn’t force himself or anything?”

“No,” she said with a firm shake of her head. You felt the knot of fear in you loosen. Thank God. It would not have been a conversation you’d want with Beau. “He just…. C-can we talk about it in your car?”

“Of course. Come on, honey,” you said gently, leading her to the car. Once she was in the passenger seat, you went to the driver’s side and sat down. You turned on the car for the heat, and faced her. “What happened?”

Emily sniffled, wiped her eyes. “We… we were at this party. He took me to one of the rooms, locked the door, and was all ‘I’m so glad you decided to do this, baby’,” she said in an approximate male voice, then screwed her face in disgust. “I actually felt like he… like…” She made a sound of frustration.

“Like you were a prize to claim?” you suggested, watching her.

“Yeah! It was like that! I felt so gross. I told him I changed my mind and he… he was mad, asking if I didn’t love him, and—and I just told him I wanted to go home,” she said, the distress leaving and anger took its place. “He said that because I wasn’t going to be a loving girlfriend that I should just leave. So I said fine! I’ll leave!”

You smiled, feeling a spark of pride for her. “That was very brave of you.”

“I just… y-you said that it should feel right. And it didn’t.” Emily looked at you beseechingly, seeking reassurance.

“Hey… if you weren’t ready, you weren’t ready. I’m not the one who gets to decide that, Emily, you are. Not Tyler, you.” You placed a hand on her shoulder and gave her a reassuring squeeze. “That Tyler didn’t respect that is unfortunate. But you did the right thing by leaving and calling someone.”

She swallowed hard and rubbed her face. “I don’t know what to do, Y/N.”

“Tell you what… why don’t I take you back home with me, get you some tea, and then I can take you home?”

“Yeah…. Yeah, please?”

You nodded, started the car, and drove her back to your home. She rode the way quietly, calming down. At one point she looked at her phone, rolled her eyes, and turned it off. She said nothing, and you decided not to press the point.

However, when you got home, you saw Beau’s truck. He was outside your door and turned when he heard you pull into your driveway. “Darlin’, hey, there you—Emily?”

Beau froze at seeing his daughter come out of your car. He glanced at you, then at her, more than a little confused and uncertain. “Em, everythin’ all right?”

“Hey dad. Yeah, I’m okay,” she said. She was quite the sight, red-rimmed eyes and puffy.

He frowned and walked over to her. He put one hand on her shoulder and pulled her into a hug. “I’m here for you, honey,” he murmured.

Your heart ached at seeing the worry on Beau’s face. Maybe you should’ve made her call Beau, but you wanted her settled and feeling safe first. This kind of conversation would be a difficult one at any age, for any parent or child.

Beau gently pulled Emily away, and you heard them speaking in low, indistinct voices. You stood there, uncertain, and decided to just wait. Yes, it was cold, but you’d be okay. Right now, Beau having this conversation with Emily was more important. He was important to you, and by extension, so was Emily.

“He what?!”

You looked up, saw the fury on Beau’s face. Emily was desperately trying to calm him down.

“That son of a bitch—”

“Dad, stop!” Emily grabbed a hold of Beau’s arm.

“Beau,” you said his name gently. “Listen to your daughter.”

He closed his eyes, and mustered up his composure, his calm. He took a few breaths, let them out slow, misting in the cold air. “You’re right, darlin’.” He turned back to Emily, gave her a weak smile. “I’m sorry, Em. Just… God, I’m sorry ya went through that.”

Beau pulled his daughter into another hug, planted his lips in her hair. “I just want to protect ya, honey. I know there are some bad people out there.”

“I know, dad,” she said, clinging to him for a long moment. It broke your heart at how tender the sight was before you. “But… nothing bad happened. I left, I called Y/N….”

“Em, why didn’t you call me? Or your mom?” Beau asked, his puzzlement clear.

“I just…” Emily looked down and mumbled, “I was afraid you would get mad.”

“God, no, Emily, never,” Beau insisted, pulled her into another hug. “Mad at him, God yes. But never you. I promise, never you.”

Emily burrowed into her father’s arms, clung to him. You watched, absurdly feeling like an outsider in a family moment. Maybe Beau picked up on that, because he glanced over at you, and fixed an intense look of adoration on you.

“Thank you, darlin’,” he said quietly. “Thank you for being there for my Em.”

You smiled slowly, warmth blooming in your heart. “You’re welcome, Beau.”

He took Emily into his truck, planning to take her back to Carla’s home before he headed home. Once she was settled in the passenger seat, he came right over to you. Without a word, he pulled you into a passionate kiss that took you by surprise. Then you let out a soft sigh and melted, returning the kiss with fervor. He lingered, savoring the moment, cherishing you. When he finally broke the kiss, he rested his forehead against yours.

“So much for neckin’,” he whispered to you with a smile.

You let out a small laugh, your heart racing. “That’s okay. Maybe tomorrow.”

He met your gaze, pulled back enough to brush his hand across your cheek. Something flickered in his eyes and your breath hitched, wondering what it could have been. “Tomorrow, darlin’. Maybe lunch?”

You smiled, leaning into his touch. “Absolutely.”

He kissed you again, a quick peck this time. “Good night, darlin’.”

You watched them pull out from the curb. Emily waved at you from the passenger window, and you waved back with a smile. It made your heart ache to watch Beau leave. How did he become so wrapped up in your life that just him leaving made you miss him that much?

He called you his girlfriend. The thought still made your heart flip and swell. He was just so… you couldn’t even find the words. You smiled to yourself; the first throes of a relationship were always jittery, exciting, and full of energy that made you bounce everywhere. You definitely couldn’t get enough of him. It was different now than it was when you just went over to sleep outside his trailer.

You took a deep breath and went back inside your warm home, your heart full, even as you missed him. Just as the door shut and locked behind you, your cellphone pinged with a text message. Curious, you looked and your smile widened.

It was from Beau.

It read: I miss you already.

Tag List: @spxideyver, @deadlymistletoe, @bitchykittenconnoisseur, @aarpfashionvictim, @stoneyggirl2, @foxyjwls007

#come find me #beau arlen #big sky #jensen ackles #jackles #beau arlen x female reader #beau arlen x f. reader #beau arlen x reader #beau arlen x y/n #beau arlen x you #big sky fanfiction #beau arlen fanfiction #jensen ackles fanfiction #taylor writes #taylor's writing #divider by tsunami of tears

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drizzysbabigirl · 1 day ago

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CW: CNC & FATHER-DAUGHTER FAUXCEST!

🎀 I'm inside my bedroom getting dressed. Little do I know, my pervy dad is peeking inside watching me, and his pedo cock is getting hard. The second he sees my hairless, puffy, little teenage pussy, he barges in. I gasp and he puts his hand over my mouth. 🎀

🎀 "Shhh, it's okay little one.." He whispers in mock sympathy as he tosses my body onto the bed. He ties my wrists above my head and my ankles down to the bed. His hand strokes my little underage pussy causing me to squirm. "You have such a cute little cunny sweetie!" He says smirking as he grabs a box with adult toys inside dildos, vibrators, and all kinds of stuff. I'm too young and innocent to know exactly what all it is, but I've briefly seen him use those toys on mommy before. 🎀

🎀 I'm shaking slightly in my restraints as I look up at my dad with wide eyes. But I know better than to try to scream or cry. I look at the box of sex toys before looking back up at him. "W-what are you gonna do with those dada?" I ask softly. 🎀

🎀 He just grins wickedly as he pulls out a long, thick, vibrating dildo and a bottle of lube, tossing them onto the bed. "Oh, sweetie, I'm going to teach you the joys of being a proper little rapetoy, just like your dear old dad likes you," He says his voice dripping with lust and depravity. "You're going to learn to love the feel of your father's cock stretching out your tight little girlcunt." 🎀

🎀 Then, he roughly shoves two fingers into my dry, underage pussy, feeling my tender walls clench around the sudden intrusion. He pumps them in and out. I cry out as I feel my dad's fingers being shoved into my tight dry virgin underage pussy. It hurts and tears well up in my eyes streaming down my cheeks. "N-no! Daddy stop p-please!" He ignores my sobs and pleas, if anything they turn him on more. He's too consumed by the sick thrill of defiling his own teen daughter's innocence. He grabs the lube and squirts a generous amount onto my bald mound and his fingers, working it into my virgin hole. He adds a third finger, plunging them deeper, going harder and faster.As the lube is added, the painful sensation becomes slightly better. Pleasurable even. I'm so confused. I shouldn't be getting off on my own father's fingers but I can't help it. My face is contorted in a mixture of pain and pleasure, as tears continue to fall down my face. 🎀

🎀 He pumps his fingers harder and faster, feeling my slick little cunny start to drip with unwanted arousal. "Shhh, don't fight it baby girl," He coos darkly. "Your body knows what it wants, even if your stupid little mind doesn't. You're going to be a perfect little fuckdoll for daddy." 🎀

🎀 Dad pulls his soaked fingers out of my molested hole and grabs the thick dildo. He presses the bulbous head against my virgin entrance, pushing in slowly until my lips stretch around the invading toy. "This is going to be bigger than daddy's cock, sweetheart. You'll take it like a champ though, won't you? For daddy?" He smirks evily pushing the vibrator deeper inside. 🎀

🎀 Once it's fully seated inside me, daddy turns it on the lowest setting. The buzzing makes my little cunny clench and spasm around it. He watches in twisted perverted satisfaction as I let out a high pitched scream of pain. The dildo is too big for my small child cunt to take. Once it's inside and starts vibrating I feel it hit my g-spot. It's overwhelming, but I start to feel pressure building up. Daddy rubs my tiny clit with his finger and soon enough, my eyes roll in the back of my head as daddy forces a orgasm out of me. My underage cunny squirting all over my bedsheets. 🎀

🎀 I'm such a icky, depraved, nasty little teen slut for my pedo daddy! 🎀

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fallen-w1ngs · 9 hours ago

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'' BOOKWORMS ,,

|| pairing: hawks x gn!reader / keigo takami x gn!reader

|| warnings: misunderstanding </3, keigo's a lovesick fool, oh also you're friends with fuyumi thumbs up, and your an oblivious dummy (ily)

|| btw, you're quirkless and have the job of librarian, and fuyumi is with mirko SMILES!

|| word count: 2.7k

|| Ever since a kid, you weren't exactly in love with the idea of being a hero. Sure, it was weird to be like that around people who constantly wanted to be heroes, even having some hero relatives. But you were never one to be interested. Always to scary! Getting results of being quirkless just further cemented your interest in being anything but a hero.

|| Being quirkless as a kid made you prone to being an easy target, so as a kid you kept to yourself. Scared to talk to a lot of people, finding comfort in small hobbies, one of those hobbies being reading! You spent most of your time in school with your nose stuck in a book. You loved to read, mostly dramas and fantasy books.. But you also loved romance books, but it didn't seem realisitc. No wonder you became a librarian! You work at a pretty big library in Mustafu. One of your regulars being a white haired girl with small red parts in her hair and grey eyes. She seemed nice, she brought you a cookie somedays from the cafe across the street.

|| Soon enough, you came to become friends with her, finding out her name was Fuyumi Todoroki. The last name sounded familiar, but you just couldn't for the life of you place your finger on it. The two of you would text and call everyday, even for a short amount of time. It was nice! Refreshing even! One day, she invited you over for tea! Awesome!

|| Fuyumi gave you the address, thankfully she said there wouldn't be anyone else joining you both. Everyone, her little brothers and dad were outta the house so the two of you could just have tea peacefully, talk about books, or watch a movie!.... At least that's what you thought. You were in the middle of sipping on some nice peach tea, talking about the hardships of getting to work on time, which felt impossible due to the villain attacks, when all of a sudden..

|| DING! || The doorbell. Fuyumi sighed and excused herself, it was probably some mail or something. Maybe her little brother ordered something off of Amazon with her dad's credit card again. At least, that's what she assumed so. Imagine her dismay when she found her girlfriend and her girlfriend's best friend, asking to crash at her place for a bit... oh! How fun.

|| You just sat in the dining room sipping on tea as you scrolled through your phone, mentally preparing yourself to excuse yourself and go home to your bed and hide under the covers while crying over fictional stories. However, that seemed nearly impossible when Fuyumi introduced you to these two... Really pretty people.

|| "So, uh, this is my girlfriend, Rumi," Fuyumi pointed at Mirko, or well Rumi. She was tall, like really tall, and had really long white hair and rabbit ears, that was really cool. Yeah she looked like a hero. "And this is Hawks, her best friend"

|| Fuyumi pointed at the blonde man as he waved to you. You waved back. Okay, listen, meeting new people was hard enough. Meeting new people unexpectedly was harder. Meeting two most pro heroes you KNEW were in the top ten. Oh boy, that seemed near impossible. You, of course stood up and introduced yourself, shaking both of the heroes hands.. Hawks had surprisingly soft hands.

|| You ended up staying at Fuyumi's place for a while longer. Getting to know the two. Of course, Fuyumi and Rumi were all over each other, it was cute. Rumi always had an arm around Fuyumi's shoulders, or be holding her hand. God they were both adorable together! The four of you ended up having tea together, small snacks, and even helped make dinner. You accidentally brushed against Hawks a few times but that's neither here nor there.

|| Near the end of the night, Rumi and Fuyumi pretty much talked amongst each other, forcing you and Hawks to converse. It was pretty hard, to be honest. I mean, you've seen Hawks on the streets doing his hero work, and he's been on the news couple of times.. His speech at the billboard charts was entertaining to say the least. In addition his agency was pretty close to the library you worked at, so seeing him wasn't a shock. He just seemed... Different than how he presented himself out in the streets. He seemed more approachable here? You didn't know, maybe all heroes were like that. Just look at Ms. Rumi "is the number 5 hero who's snuggling up against her girlfriend as if she was a cat" Usagiyama.

|| "So, what're some of your hobbies?" That caught you off guard, honestly you were starting to zone out as you stared at some shit movie but were pulled back to reality by the.. Wow he had really pretty eyes. They looked like they were glowing in the dark, of course they weren't it was just bright in contrast to the shadows, but damn Hawks.

|| "Oh, uh-" You scrambled to find your words, trying to rack your brain. You had a lot of hobbies, some niche some not, so it was hard to keep track of them. "Reading" you stammered out.

|| "Cool," Hawks chuckled and nodded. Oh it was like you were in high school again failing socially as the popular kid tried to talk to you during some sort of group project. "I never really have the time to read."

|| You blinked, a little surprised as you tilted your head slightly to the side. "But I've seen you carry around that uh, Meta Liberation War book all the time? I-I mean, like, I see you promoting it to other heroes! Or something-" Jesus christ, now you looked like a stalker. 'I've seen you carry that around all the time.' You were fumbling your words, you were fumbling so hard.

|| Thankfully, Hawks just found it entertaining, and somewhat endearing. He just let out a small chuckle and waved his hand in the air dismissively. "It's the only book I've really read all the way through. Don't have the time" He shrugged. Made sense, he was a big hero, of course he wouldn't have time to read too much.

|| You two kept talking about random shit you don't even know you were saying before you left home, Hawks offered to fly you home but you assured him you had a car.. As tempting as it sounded. You, Rumi and Hawks.. Huh, what was his real name again? Whatever, the three of you exchanged numbers and said your goodbyes. Damn, two top ten pro heroes seemed nicer than how they looked, makes sense. Heroes, duh.

|| The next few weeks were entertaining to say the least. It was pretty normal, except Hawks would visit your library, bringing small treats for you at a few times. It would be extra nice if Fuyumi visited and brought a small treat for you too! Oh, having friends was lovely. You saw Hawks way more than Fuyumi at this point, whether it be for 5 minutes to hanging out your whole lunch break. Seems like the pro hero took a liking to you! AS FRIENDS! As friends.... As friends.

|| Eventually, he did end up telling you his name, Keigo Takami, after a bunch of nagging. He made you swear on your life you wouldn't share it with the public, the commission would kill him. You didn't understand why, but if it made him feel better, you kept your mouth shut. Plus, it didn't make much difference, after getting more comfortable around each other you called him "birdie" as a funny nickname. Hell, his name on your phone was "birdie" for crying out loud. Might as well change his name to birdie legally. (He was tempted to.)

|| After a few months of being friends, you and Hawks went to the carnival with Rumi and Fuyumi. It was really fun!... Except you were really bad with crowded areas. GOD FUCKING DAMNIT! No, no, you'll be fine, you told yourself, you'll be with your friends! It won't be so bad.

|| ... You know that audio on tiktok where it says "Wow, I haven't stubbed my toe in five months!" yeah. That's what it felt like. You were expecting a fun, high adrenaline, messy food filled day with minimum crowds. Holy shit the place was packed and Keigo and Rumi were asked for autographs half the time. You and Fuyumi just stood there, waiting for them to be done half the time. At one point, the both of you were told to just ditch them to get some food cause there were so many people. I mean, what did they really expect? Not to get swarmed by fans? (yes.)

|| Thankfully, you found peace in some rides, Hawks had to be in the back since his wings were.. Gigantic. You accompanied him, while Fuyumi and Rumi, ever the adrenaline junkies, sat at the front of each ride.

|| Imagine this, you're sitting in the back of the rollercoaster, Keigo right besides you as you both scream your heads off at every bump and turn. But at one drop, one really REALLY steep drop, you just couldn't take it and instinctively grabbed onto Keigo, hiding your face in his jacket as you screamed while the rollercoaster rode down. Unfortunately for you, it was the last bit of the rollercoaster, so once the ride was over, your face was still nicely pressed into his shoulder. OH GOD, YOU WERE FUMBLING SOCIALLY AGAIN. You panicked and let go of him, rushing to get out of the seat, profusely apologizing. Before he could get a word in, you excused yourself to the bathroom to let yourself calm down.

|| Unaware to you, Keigo just stood there like a dumbass, holding the place where your face was and had this dumb smile on his face, not realizing he had to move until Rumi yelled at him and dragged him by the wings. Ouch. Okay, to be completely honest, Keigo... Yes, Keigo had a small (giant), itty bitty (absolutely humungous) crush on you. Did he say anything? No. But he did things that would.. Maybe give him a boost in winning over your affections.

|| The treats he gave you every other day? He made sure to get the ones that reminded him most of you. Small trinket gifts? Some of those costed more than he should be spending, but who cares he was a rich hero! (the commission cared.) Hanging out with you during lunch breaks? He just loved seeing you smile as you talked about new books, he'd skip any meeting he had just to see you. Unless someone yelled at him-

|| You, being the dummy you are (im sure none of you are dumb, ily), didn't pick up on any of these signs cause you're oblivious and way to bad at social cues to actually see what he was doing. At one point Fuyumi brought up the mere idea that he might be flirting with you and you immediately perished.

|| He's the number two hero for crying out loud! Models, other heroes, singers, I'm sure everyone wanted to be with him!! Why would he want a quirkless nobody librarian? That's what you think. But to him, you were the realest person he's ever had the pleasure of being friends with. Not wanting him for his money, looks, or even status of being a hero. It was.. Really nice.

|| Anyways, back to the carnival, the rest of the day went pretty good, but you made sure to avoid eye contact with Keigo or if Keigo tried talking to you, you gave small nervous answers before switching the subject and talk to Fuyumi... That wasn't.. Okay, whatever, it's whatever, Keigo thought, they probably just wanna talk to the others more. It made sense! Fuyumi has known you longer than Keigo, it's whatever.

|| But after the carnival your dynamic shifted, you seemed more distant. More nervous and skittish around him, always on the move, not staying in one spot. If he brought lunch, you made excuses to keep moving through the library aisles instead of sit down with him. If he brought a sweet treat, you'd tell him to put it on your desk while you had to organize some books.. He was confused at this, really confused. Did he do something to upset you? Did you not wanna be friends anymore?

|| That's all that was going through his head, so after a week of this happening, he made sure you were home, his schedule was finally free, he bought two books he remember you said you wanted and some snacks. He put on his leather jacket, that he remembered you said you loved, and went to your place. It was much smaller than his place (he lived in a damned penthouse for crying out loud.), but it was homey. He loved it, he loved visiting you in it. Anyways, he knocked at your door and-

|| "Keigo?" He loved when you said his name. Always so gentle when speaking. Keigo took a deep breath as he shifted in place, he was always so nervous around you. Even if you couldn't see it.

|| "Can we talk?"

|| You invited him in, palms sweaty and fidgety mess now. Oh gods, he was probably mad. But why did he bring over a bag of.. Well whatever was in it. You knew if he said he didn't wanna see you again, you knew you'd cry. Probably. So you mentally prepared yourself as you made some tea for the two of you. Having tea together was one of Keigo's favourite things.

|| Once you settled in, he first handed you the bag.. Oh. It was the books you wanted.. He remembered. And it was the small candies you absolutely adored. Oh, Keigo.

|| "Are you mad at me?"

||.. What?? You looked at him dumbfounded, did he really think you were mad at him?? If anything he should be mad at you! For avoiding him and being, well, you!

|| "N-No," You mentally kicked yourself at stuttering. "Wait, why do you think I am?"

"Well you've been avoiding me for the past week, you're always so fidgety around me and.. I dunno, I thought I did something." Keigo said, looking down at his hands as he spoke. Guilt starting to drip into your heart as you heard his words. That.. That wasn't your intention! You were just embarrassed with what happened at the carnival, and in all honesty, you did have a crush on him. A big one, and you didn't know what to do. He seemed so out of your league!

"I didn't-" You started, taking a sharp inhale before speaking again. "I'm sorry, that wasn't-" "You don't need to apologize" "No, no I do, I was being a bad friend, I shouldn't have-"

"If I made you uncomfortable at a-" "Make me uncomfortable? You could never, I was scared I made you.." "I feel safe around you."

You both sit in silence for a moment. You were both nervous wrecks when it came to each other.

" I was embarrassed.. By how I acted on the rollercoaster, I didn't mean to.. Be so close to you" You muttered, your face flushed from embarrassment. Both of the incident and of admitting it.

Keigo just stared at you with those bright eyes of his. Oh, they looked like the sun. Just like the stories you read, you felt like Icarus flying to close to him. Thinking you'll end up burnt in the end.

"I want you close to me." You blinked a couple of times, your face flushing more than before. Was he being serious? You bit your bottom lip as you looked away from him.

"Can I kiss you?" Keigo asked quietly, his brows furrowed and his cheeks dusted a light pink. Okay, he'll take the leap of faith. Praying it doesn't backfire on him. You, on the other hand, your mind is going a billion miles an hour, wondering if this was a joke or just him being Keigo.. But he was being genuine... You nodded.

The second you did, he cupped your face gently with his soft hands and pulled you into a small kiss.

|| After much talking, you both cleared up the misunderstandings and.. Started dating! YIPPEE! Oh my god, colours became brighter, the birds were singing louder, the sun was smiling down on you. Everything felt right.

|| Maybe those romance books were realistic.

.... So... This is the biggest fic I've made. Idk what got over me. But i love this smiles. also, i didnt make mha christmas stuff sorry chat <//3

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helenazbmrskai · 11 hours ago

Text

Han Jisung // gifted comfort 🎁

Note // This is entirely my indulgent fic for the holidays, it marks the day I post my first skz fanfic, have a good read!

Pairing [Han Jisung x avoidant attachment type! Reader]

Genre [Christmas AU, hurt and comfort, fluff, angst, smut]

Summary [You ask your friend to accompany you to a dreadful family reunion and the catch is that you rejected his confession but he's not one to give up when he knows your refusal is not for the lack of interest. Things might work out better than he expected right on your childhood bed.]

Warnings [family disharmony, anxiety and implied rocky relationship with the reader's dad, smut (handjob, sub!han, sexual intercourse)]

Rating [+18, smut]

Han reaches for your hand to stop the shaking of it momentarily. His thumb rolls over your knuckles enthralling a sense of comfort and you try hard to relax. ”Take in a deep breath cheeks.” The nickname at the end makes you smile. You close your eyes and exhale slowly, in the darkness you can only feel his warm hands one holding your hand and the other wrapping around your waist. It’s a small familiar bubble he created just outside your parent’s front porch driving away all the bad memories that keep coming back the more you get close to your childhood home.

It has been a dread to come home but with Jisung glued to your side, you listen to the small voice in your head that he- he might be able to keep you sane until it’s past Christmas. The knots in your stomach subside a bit that had you in a twist for a couple of days now. ”I think I will be sick.” Unsure how to express the feelings that overwhelm you if you had to summarise it you would say it’s similar to rocks sitting on your chest.

”It’s just the nerves, honey, you will be fine I’ll be here with you.” You don’t doubt him, he’s been your unshakeable pillar for years what concerns you is not that your family will hurt you but that they will hurt him.

”We talked about this. Tell me what you’re thinking.” Sensing your uptight shoulders and rigid posture Han can tell that you’re overthinking again in your head. Just like he always does when you get like that he pulls you close and rests your foreheads together so that you can see only him in your eyes.

He gets you to look at him effortlessly by now, one finger moves under your chin with practised ease and tilts your face up. ”Tell me what you’re truly afraid of.”

You bite your lip in discontent, you hate when he knows exactly when you’re about to lie about something.

”I hate how well you know me.” It’s just a few words whispered to no one in particular but he hears you, like always. He chuckles at your antics. Feels it how you relax in his hold. His knowing smirk is all you need to know this is what his plan was all along. With renewed intent, he cups your cheek and smiles seeing your annoyed look.

”You might hate it now but I’ll make sure you’ll love it someday.” You wince remembering the conversation that you had a week before. You know it was not his intention to plant seeds of guilt but you cannot help this gnawing feeling you have ever since you rejected him. He’s a great guy, the best to be honest he’s the one who makes you the happiest and you love spending time with him it’s just that you have this fear about your relationship. You know that he deserves someone who could be more emotionally available.

”I’m sorry.” It’s an impulsed apology and Han wants none of it. You talked it through after you rejected him and he took note of your uncertainty and decided to give you space to think but that doesn’t mean he has given up on you.

”Don’t apologise sweets. Just because I love you it doesn’t mean you have to feel any guilt for it.”

So sweet. Always the gentleman when it comes to you, he has the patience like an endless ocean and uses it all on you.

”Still-” You stop talking when his thumb frees your lower lip, he hates it when you bite it because it often bruises and you complain that it hurts while you eat. ”It’s not because I don’t l-” unable to say „love” you correct it. ”Like you.”

”I know that so don’t worry.” You hum in a moment of agreement and let your nerves subside a bit. It helps that Han is waiting for you patiently, he knows so well when you need his touch and when you need space. Afraid that you got spotted after standing on the porch for a long time you look around for any eyes but thankfully there’s none and you’re still alone in this bubble he created for you.

”Don’t think I forgot about what we were talking about. Tell me what’s on your mind. We’re not going anywhere until you let me in here.” Han playfully pokes the side of your head and you swat it away like he expected with a roll of your eyes. He’s real good at changing up the atmosphere whenever you need it.

”Hah, okay. I guess I’m just afraid after you meet with my parents you will change your mind and leave me after you realise I’m not worth the effort.” It’s out in the open you can’t bear to look at his reaction so you look down ashamed.

”That’s not going to happen. You are worth all the effort I’m putting into our relationship. I know you’re trying on your own as well so there’s nothing to be worried about.” It’s reassuring to hear him say it in such a convincing tone. You happily melt into his arms as he hugs you close.

Finally feeling ready enough to face the family.

”Are you going to come in or you will talk here for ’nother hour?” You jump out of Jisung’s arms when you hear your father’s voice. Breaking this perfect moment with his horrible timing to announce his presence. He had his usual scowl on his face – not that he ever had anything nice to say. Your hand visibly shakes as you press it to your side greeting your father. Jisung gets ahold of your hand and smiles gently at your father. He greets him with respect and you witness their awkward handshake but rather civil considering your dad’s temper. Once your mother shows up the tension in your shoulder eases up a bit.

She is more welcoming when she introduces herself to Han. You hold onto his hand like a lifeline as you get inside.

The interior hasn’t changed much since you were a kid maybe a few things were repaired and changed up here and there. The house itself is not too big so it doesn’t need a tour per se but you still offer Han to show him around.

Your mother approves of it as she still has a few things to do before dinner is ready and your father retires to the main bedroom to continue his show leaving you to your devices. Good to know that some things just never change around here.

”Glad that you’re here y/n. Get some rest and I’ll call you two when the food is ready.” Your mother shows the both of you a reserved smile but there’s affection for you in her gaze Han can see it.

It’s no surprise that you cannot show how you feel as there’s much in the household that cannot be expressed.

He can see why you were worried but in his eyes, your image will not change due to this. Your parents are not you and in the end, he should be grateful that he could meet you thanks to them bringing you to the world.

Han looks around the house with interest as you guide him a step ahead, his eye occasionally catching on a family picture on the cabinet but the most attention he pays to is how your room is decorated.

Your Scooby Doo’s bedding is adorable and he takes note of the posters you have of celebrities on your wall, males of course. He takes note of your tastes even if it’s limited to your teenage years this was the room that you spent the most time in. It makes him feel good that you let him into such an intimate space of yours. Whilst he’s grateful he can’t help his teasing though as you have the best reactions. You look so beautiful shy and red all over as you try to hide some plush bears.

”It’s been a while since I was here, okay? Don’t laugh at me, I bet your room is no better than this.” You visibly sulk at his enjoyment.

”I’ll show you my room next time.” You blush at what he’s hinting at and you cannot say that you don’t welcome this warm feeling. When Han sees that you’re not opposed to the idea he approaches you.

”My mom will absolutely adore you. I can’t wait for you to meet her.” You mirror his relaxed smile and let him pull you into a hug. You hum not in agreement or disagreement to keep the serenity of it. You don’t dare to look too hopeful even if his words of your futures together sound tempting when he envisions it. You like to hear him tell you about future events and plans it’s nice that he sees every image with you in the picture. It’s nice it feels like between his arms you belong.

Ever since he confessed his love to you there’s this tension a certain mood shift you feel between the two of you. It started to get to you but now it feels like it will consume you if you don’t say anything.

”What will you do if I say I wanted to kiss you?” Nervously curious there are newly formed knots in your stomach but this time it’s not anxiety that has you biting your lips as you anticipate the answer to your very bold question.

Jisung looks taken aback by your sudden boldness. It’s not that he couldn’t sense this tension in the air he decided not to act on it after your rejection. It hurt him but did not deter him from trying again especially since he knows you feel the same. He’s hopeful that you mean it but even if you don’t he’s not going to say no to you.

”I would say you can kiss me anytime.” Still unsure how to thread into his uncharted territory he gives you all the control. If you wanted to kiss him you can if you wanted to take it back and forget about it he would do it but it would be a lie since he wouldn’t be able to forget anything about you. He just likes you so much that you wrapped him around your pinky finger effortlessly. It does hurt his ego. You had his heart for a very long time now and it’s time you realise your power over him. You can feel it, his resolve weakening as your breaths mingle when you draw closer. His eyes visibly drop down to your lips frowns when he sees you bite your lip again.

”Where’s your self-preservation, huh? What if I asked to have sex?” You withdraw and he doesn’t like it he’s been anticipating that hypothetical kiss that you sweetly promised with your daring eyes. He was so close to it. You don’t look frightened like usual when anything remotely romantic comes up and that gives him the courage to be honest with you as well. He draws you back into his space.

”I would say we can have sex if you wanted.” A part of you expected him to change the subject or crack a joke but he remains serious as he looks at you under his hooded eyes. You’re speechless.

”Jisung. We’re at my parents.” You lower your voice to indicate that you can get closer to getting caught with each passing minute. Dinner could be ready anytime soon. Jisung just laughs at your scandalised face the tension eases a bit but he’s not letting it completely get lost as he grips your waist lovingly his hold tightens as he bends to laugh directly into your neck taking up your space. You realise he’s checking your reactions to his touch and closeness. See if you will laugh with him and push him away. Jisung is in desperate need of your attention and you talking about having sex with him is not lost on him it put him in a predicament. Afraid that you might never ask him again he catches himself becoming impatient. He imagined it. He wants it but only if you do too.

”You’re right. I’m sorry for acting this way.” He catches himself a moment later as he withdraws from your neck. You rejected him not that long ago so he swore to move at snail's speed with you building up his next confession but here he is – getting greedy. You’re torn if you should stop him from getting farther away or if you require space to think clearly. Both of you are getting lost in your thoughts. You can tell he tries to compose himself thinking that you won’t read the need from his eyes that look back at you. You want to say something, anything but-

”The food is ready.” A single hard knock interrupts you before you can say anything. Yes or no, you’re unsure. Yelling back a ’be right there’ so your mother could hear you. You deserve a pat on your back for your voice coming out clearly. You know you should say something first before Jisung misunderstands you.

”Let’s talk about this again later, shall we?” An encouraging smile and a melting heart eye is all you can do to convey your sincere heart. While having doubts about where it could all lead – these feelings are growing too much for you to ignore. You can’t help but chase after this love that he’s capable of giving.

”-Alright.”

You can tell he has something to say. Maybe to reassure you he’s not here to make your choices. If you said the word you know he could wait more if not forever for you to come around. Ever since you knew him he’s always been relentless. If there was anything he wanted he kept chasing it. He never failed to claim anything he wanted so far – and it seems like you won’t be the first exception.

He did capture you in the end.

Jisung follows you to the dining room and while you expect it to be awkward with you sitting in front of your dad with your sister present and more people around you, you are able to relax more into your seat.

There’s silence breaking chit-chat here and there your mother mostly asking questions about your days and your sister’s laced with some Christmas music playing in the background. You’re surprised that Jisung talks with your dad a few words – thankfully at his best behaviour considering there are outsiders at the dinner table – you catch up with your sister’s husband a bit before you make sure he’s included in your conversation.

Feeling touched that he accompanied you even though he doesn’t know anyone here you find his hand under the table and thread your fingers together. He stops mid-conversation his hand grabbing onto you firmly to show you he’s here with you. There’s an unusual smile on everyone’s faces throughout the dinner.

This is the most peaceful it has been in ages.

”He’s a catch.” You jolt when you hear your sister whisper the words into your ear with dirty plates in your hand. You assured Jisung that he could shower first as you would take care of the dishes first. This might be the first time you separated from him but you calmed down enough that you don’t feel dread by it. It’s the perfect time for your sister to start her little inquiry. She caught you in a corner and you smile warmly at her as she asks you about him. Everyone else retreated to their rooms.

”Yeah, he’s good to me.” Your smile is incriminating that your sister knows by now that you’re head over heels for him.

”I can see that. He likes you so much. He couldn’t look away from you the entire time.” Her teasing is hammering home especially after you remember that you still have a conversation to touch upon later tonight.

”Enough about me. What about you? Everything alright?” She nods with a smile.

”Very peaceful now that we have our house.” You can imagine that.

It’s been a while since you last talked so you try to catch up in a few before you both head to bed. Once you enter your room Jisung is already lying on your bed freshly showered with a book in his hands. The day is catching up to you it seems as you nip a yawn at the bud. The day’s anxiety leaves your body at once now that the tiring socialising is over, you book it as a success without incidents.

”Everything’s alright?” You hum an affirmative into his t-shirt your legs and hands trapping him in a hug.

”Tired? You’re awfully cuddly.” Jisung giggles at how cute you are right now his hand absentmindedly goes to play with your hair and you further relax into his chest. You know you should get up and shower but this position is too comfy for you to move just yet. He smells like your soap. It awakens a weird sense of possessiveness in you.

”Not tired. I think we have a thing or two to discuss.” You push yourself above him positioned so that your palms are keeping you up next to his head planted onto the sheets. He visibly gulps at your sudden change in mood.

You oddly feel unrestrained.

”I guess we do.” It’s maddening when he shows you a boyish grin. His hand rests on your hip basking in your proximity. You lower your face until it’s inches away – he’s anticipating your kiss with eagerness, eyes already hooded and lips parted slightly in a sensual way. You know he’s waiting for it.

”You said I can kiss you anytime I want.” He confirms it with an annoyed huff. You pulled away just before your lips could touch.

”I did.” You’re teasing him and he doesn’t like it as he’s been anticipating it so much, you’re so close yet so far away that it’s agonising. Yet he can’t do anything about it. He closes his eyes in frustration before opening it again to look at you with such want that surely stirs something in the pit of your stomach.

You can do anything and he would wait until you decide he can have it.

”Said we can have sex if I wanted?” You’re repeating his words but his ears uncharacteristically turn red in the meantime.

”I d-did say that.”

It’s so unfamiliar, this shift that’s happening right this moment. You’re the one who’s insecure most of the time, sometimes gloomy and hard to handle but he always treats you right with confidence.

Hearing his stutter is a sign that you can sometimes steal his confidence.

”Please give me a kiss.” Jisung carefully cups your face pressing you close to his body, his beginning is music to your ears. You lean closer just to tease him a bit more which earns a pout from him.

You kiss his jaw and when he lets out a surprised sigh you kiss his pout away, pressing your lips to his awaiting ones.

”Hmn.” The sounds he lets out are stirring. You want to tell him to keep quiet since you’re still in your parent’s house but he recaptures your lips before you can say anything. ”A bit more, please.”

He keeps pressing, begging and kissing as if you will let him go any moment. As if he will never get to taste your mouth keeps pushing his lips against yours, moulding it hotly, lips fitting perfectly as he slowly holds you close to him. There’s a longing desperation in his actions.

Hums, moans and begs.

He drives you wild with his words and sounds.

Even though you love to hear him you’re prone to get caught if this continues so you have to tear yourself away from his mouth to recapture his attention. His glassy eyes manage to focus on you.

”Be quiet.” Jisung looks away shyly ashamed of how turned on he is just because of a few kisses. You looking down at him sternly doesn’t help. You didn’t even use your tongue yet and he’s so into it. Even if he’s ashamed of his reactions he can’t help but nod in hope that you will continue if he obeys. ”Think you can be quiet Sungie?”

He knows by now that you’re teasing him. The nickname. It’s so rare for you to use and to hear it in such a context. ”I can.” He’s completely lost to you. He wants you so bad it’s physically paining him. He doesn’t care if it’s in your childhood bed in your parent’s house or if you want to forget about it in the morning. He needs it now. Want to feel your hands and mouth all over his body.

”I’m sorry but can you help me? Honey?” He’s aching it doesn’t feel as good when he touches his cock through his pants like it used to. Even with you watching his rubbing motions it’s not nearly enough.

He knows he’s being shameless and impatient.

”It’s okay to want things from me. You don’t need to say sorry. I know our case is special as I have many issues to deal with- but you never have to apologise for seeking my affection or touch.” It’s a rare show of vulnerability in your voice and Han soaks it in, relieved that you don’t think he’s being pushy and impatient. He always wants you to have everything so it’s hard for him to ask you to fulfill his desires.

”It’s okay even if what I want is you?” It’s out before he could think. His second confession. He got rejected not too long ago yet he dared to say it again. You chuckle at the visible panic on his face, you can tell he’s waiting for you to pull away to say no.

You’re tired of fighting it.

”It’s okay for you to love me. I want it. Your love.” His heart leaps to his throat when he hears you finally accept his confession. You seal it with your lips against him this time neither of you shies away as you deepen it with your intertwined tongues.

”Thank you, thank you, thank you-” It comes out in gasps as your hand travels under his pants in the heat of the moment, your lips never falter as he presses the words into your mouth, and your fingers grip his length until you’re unsure if he’s thankful for you accepting his confession or if it is a reply to his desire to touch his cock. Either way, you’re here to please, it might not mean much but you always wanted to thank him for caring for you and this presents a great opportunity to do so.

It’s a bit tricky but you make the best of it due to the limited space, moving with the impatient rock of his hip you have a firm grip on him that looks to be just the extra push he needs. ”Feel ’so good- hmn, don’t stop.” Wordlessly you continue to go up and down his cock getting the extra wetness all over him.

He tugs his sweatpants down his hips so that his cock can be uncovered with more room for you to move and pick up the speed of your pumps. His unbecoming is near and what a mess he is almost as messy and sloppy as his cock is wet and squelching in your hands. His heavy breathing indicates it’s getting harder for him to control his moans it takes a high pitch when you get the right angle.

His cock is bigger than you expected, the producing veins and the grith everything is pretty about him. Curious if he would taste good you lean down to take the tip into your mouth when he pulls your head back a loud whining voice is filled with panic at your actions. ”D-don’t, if you do I don’t know if I could l-last.”

”Alright, if you don’t want to cum, then where you would like it?” You share a short sweet kiss before you straddle his lap.

”Do you want to cum inside? It might be the less messy option.” Whilst you nonchalantly ponder over the options Han is falling apart beneath you. It’s the closest you’ve ever been to each other.

He can feel your wetness rubbing up on him bare.

”What d- do you want?” Always the gentleman. Sharing a few kisses you align him with your opening.

”Of course I want you to cum inside. I have protection so you don’t need to worry about kids.” Han nods at your suggestion very eager to feel you around him if the twitching of his cock is any indication.

”What about you? Do you want it?” His hands grip your hips in anticipation. It tightens around you when you slowly sink to the bottom the stretch is tortuous as your walls clamp around him trying to accommodate. The tight pulsing is never ending it has Jisung’s already sensitive cock swell in you ready to burst.

”I’ve been dreaming about it for so long. Fuck, you’re so beautiful like this. I think I will cum soon.”

You can see that as he closes his eyes when you move his expression pained as he tries his best to keep hard for you. He wants you to get off first before he explodes but it’s hard as your hole sucks him in not letting up your tight grip on his throbbing length. The friction is delicious as you rock your hips, every vein presses against a nerve inside of you the grove of his length providing the perfect arch to reach your spot.

You’re convinced that his cock was made for you. It’s not hard for you to reach high places with the precise thrusts he delivers into you from below. Jisung aligns it with your bounces in sync gripping you by the hips, dragging you across his cock to take you on a ride. The pressure is building in your stomach until it explodes and you cum around his cock it doesn’t take more than a few more minutes for him to follow you.

His cum shoots deep inside you, flooding you with his warm cum that starts to drip out the moment his softening cock slips out of you.

You get up to get yourself clean before it can stain the bedsheets even if his begging eyes for cuddles are tempting you don’t want to start the next morning explaining to the household why you need to wash your sheets.

”I’ll quickly shower and be right back.” You place a kiss on his pouty lips, there’s a glow around him all sweaty and smooth around the edges as his expression is relaxed post-orgasm. You certainly adore this look on him.

”You can join me since I dirtied you up.” A sheepish smile is what you give him. He did take a shower merely two hours ago. You press your lips to his jaw and collarbones earning sweet little sighs from him. He makes you grow soft it’s out of your control as you can’t stop the constant touches you do.

Pushing his sweaty hair back you caress the hairs at his nape pulling him in for a longer kiss this time.

”I guess I should.” He looks too smug for someone who whined for you to put it in but you let it slide as you intertwine your fingers.

Han kisses your shoulders up to your throat it’s sweet without the urgency he had before it feels more like he’s trying to worship you. It makes your heart flutter and you can’t help but pull him up to kiss you this sweetly on the mouth as well.

”This might be my favourite Christmas so far.” You admit. Looking at his adorning eyes you can see your reflection in them. ”It’s all thanks to you.”

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