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slimybeth69 · 2 days ago

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"i'll be here."

rating: explicit- for drinking and joel's dirty thoughts. This is pure fluff NO SMUT and it's probably kinda corny but I DON'T CARE.

summary: Joel wants to make sure your New Years Eve isn't lonely.

tags: jackson!joel, Joel's POV, no use of y/n, no physical description (just an outfit) fluff, so much fluff, pining, age gap, him being handsome and perfect, mentions of food, drinking, being intoxicated so maybe dub-con (but not really)

w/c: ~3.6k

a/n: the holiday was hard as hell this year and it really didn't feel like christmas at all, so i wrote this for myself because i was sad. i hope any of you all that needed Joel to come and sing you songs and play gui-tar find some comfort in this.

thanks for @creepycorbeaux for reading this over. thanks to @thelastofgala for those beautiful gifs and thanks to @saradika-graphics for the dividers.

Joel wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing walking to your house with a bottle of whiskey in one hand, and his guitar in the other, but he couldn’t stop thinking about what you had said last night on patrol.

“Whaddya end up doin’ f’Christmas?”

The face you make when you look over at him almost makes Joel smirk for a split second. The way your nose scrunches and the corners of your mouth turn down slightly. Like you’re confused and upset with him ,and all he did was ask you a simple question.

Then you respond, “Whachya mean?”

Joel doesn’t know how to answer that because… what do you mean? Your eyes are still squinted— like there is some sort of distrust in your soul. Like Joel is playing a joke on you right now.

“Uh, well… Ellie and I went to Tommy and Maria’s...” Joel is uncomfortable suddenly; he forgets that not everyone is as lucky as he is to have family here in Jackson. He doesn’t know you nearly well enough, so now he feels like an ass. He shouldn’t be asking you anything like that.

Or anything at all not pertaining to patrol.

You don’t say anything for a while, you just hold onto the strap of your rifle over your shoulder, and then adjust your grasp on the reins with your other hand. “I just stayed home,” you answer him quietly, almost like you don’t really want him to hear you. “Made myself a nice dinner, read a book and went to bed.”

That ‘put your foot in your mouth’ feeling creeps into Joel’s stomach and he wants to ask if you’d like to give him a nice rocket to his left jaw. He doesn’t stay quiet for too long, he doesn’t want you sitting in this awkward smog he’s created. “That doesn’t sound t’bad, honestly. Whaddya make?”

Joel watches you out of the corner of his eye as you once again adjust the reins in your hand, waiting for you to either respond to his question or tell him to shut the fuck up.

He wishes you would tell him to screw off because he never tries to make small talk, and this is why! He always regrets it!

“Just a venison roast with veggies from the greenhouse.” You finally tell him with a little more life in your voice this time, like you were actually proud of what you cooked yourself. “What did you and Ellie do at Tommy and Maria’s?”

“Had a few drinks, ate some food. Nothin’ crazy.”

Joel didn’t have the heart to tell you that Tommy and him spent most of the day drinking and reminiscing, laughing about being young, stupid kids. Or that Ellie and Maria baked all day, listening to Christmas music someone had found a while ago. He didn’t wanna subject you to all that, knowing now you were home alone.

Since that night on patrol, Joel can’t get the image of you sitting at home on a holiday all by yourself.

Probably being sad.

There isn’t any particular reason why he feels so compelled to come knock on your door, there are plenty of other lonely souls that spend every holiday with no one else around.

There was just a pull. Something inside of him that said go go go.

Go to her.

He doesn’t really even know what he’s going to say to you if you decide to open the door for him. Hell, he’s not sure you’re even going to let him in! You’ve only ever gone on two patrols together. Y’all never really talk outside of that, but that’s mostly because he doesn’t see you around.

Not like he’s looking for you, or anything.

When he knocks, it’s like his heart might hammer right out of his chest. Why is he so nervous? He’s just here to offer you a couple drinks so you don’t have to ring in the new year all alone.

Ellie was with Dina and the rest of her friends, Tommy and Maria wanted to call it an early night because of the baby, and so Joel had two options: the bar, or sitting at home alone.

It’s not that Joel didn’t like being alone. He had been alone since Tess, and that was still something he didn’t like to think about too much.

Too much loss for not enough of — whatever they had been. Losing her had almost been the final nail in the coffin, and if it hadn’t been for Ellie -

Don’t think about it.

Now Joel finds himself on your front porch, holding the screen door open with his large frame, and knocking lightly with the ass end of the bottle of whiskey.

From inside he can hear you moving around. His breath hitches in his throat when you finally open up for him. Joel watches your eyes scan him very quickly, taking in the picture in front of you. Your eyes go wide for a second like you don’t understand why he’s here.

Joel Miller on your front porch with a bottle of whiskey and his guitar.

“Whaddya doin’ here?”

Joel holds the bottle up for you to inspect closer as you wrap your arms around yourself like you’re trying to hide from him.

Joel’s never seen you without your winter jacket, hat and gloves. Right now in your house, you have on a blue sweater, a pair of tight elastic tights that Joel wishes he could see you in more often, and the warmest looking socks he has ever seen.

His eyes scan the length of your body again involuntarily. His gaze lingers on your pants once again– so tight and they hug your curves (that Joel didn’t even know you had) in all the right ways.

“Well, I reckon I came over here hopin’ you had cooked another roast, since it sounded so damn good when you told me ‘bout it on patrol–”

Joel continues his bullshit rambles about why he came over here as you start to smirk, and take a step back so the door can swing open a little wider and he can make his way in.

“The guitar?” You ask as Joel toes off his boots so he doesn’t track snow through your house. He hands you the bottle of whiskey, shifting the guitar between his hands as he takes off his jacket.

“Figur’d if you wanted to share any of the food you made– I could share the whiskey… maybe play a lil gui-tar for ya.”

The last time he played the guitar for anyone besides Ellie– Sarah was still alive.

Who is this man?

There was just something about the way you said ‘I just stayed home’. Joel was thinkin’ maybe you didn’t read a book and go to bed.

Maybe you cried a little, missing whatever you remember from home.

Joel knows all about that, all about the sleepless nights when you just can’t turn your brain off. You can’t stop thinking about the people that are no more, about how different things are now and how you’d give anything for them to go back to the way they used to be.

Joel has Ellie and Tommy. Who do you have?

“You’re in luck because I did cook tonight,” you’re smiling at him and he thinks this is the first time he’s ever seen you smile, too.

So many firsts for Joel, he feels like a teenager as you lead him further into your house - which is clean and smells phenomenally good - and into the kitchen.

Joel hadn’t expected you to actually offer him food, he didn’t know if you cooked dinners like that for yourself all the time, or only on special occasions.

You take the guitar from him and pull out a chair at your kitchen table. For a moment he feels like his brain malfunctions and he’s not sure how to react.

“You can sit,” You’re already in your living room. “I’m just gonna…” Then you trail off.

When Joel peers around the corner to check on you, you’re very carefully leaning the guitar against the wall, holding your hands out to catch it in case it leans too far one way or the other.

Joel feels heat creeping up his chest and neck as he watches you, slightly bent at the waist. The tightness of your pants—

Nope.

Once you’re satisfied that the guitar won’t fall, you turn around and smile at him, even though he’s just standing there watching you like an idiot– blushing!

Blushing?

Part of him thinks this was the worst idea he ever had. How could you be doing this to him and you’ve done absolutely nothing?

He should go home.

“Sit!” You urge him to take a seat at the table while you basically prance into the kitchen to start serving him a plate. Everything is still sitting on the stove in the pots you cooked in.

You explain that you already ate because you weren’t expecting company.

Joel almost tells you not to worry about the food, but then what would he do? Play guitar for three hours? Getting drunk and talking all night seems like a terrible idea.

What the fuck was he thinking? This was the dumbest thing he’s ever done, it really was.

He shuts his mouth though when you set down a plate of steaming food in front of him.

“Dig in! I have more than enough if you want a second plate.”

The way you talk so casually, like you’ve known Joel your whole life while you walk back into the kitchen makes him jealous.

How are you so nice? Sweet?

You haven’t even been here for four months and this is the first time either of you have said more than ten words to each other that didn’t have to do with patrol.

It’s the way your body moves when you walk without all your winter gear on. You sway… almost like you’re floating.

Knock it off, old man. She’s half your age.

Joel has to squeeze his eyes shut for two seconds until he hears your feet padding back to the table. When he opens them, you’re pushing one of the glasses in his direction.

“You brought the booze, so you have to pour it.”

The smile on your face makes Joel feel a mix of pride and guilt.

What are you expecting of him? He can’t give you more than just tonight. He knows that, he hopes you know that too.

Joel opens the bottle and pours each of you a decent, sippable glass.He should have poured himself less.

Probably should have poured you less.

The food tastes better than Joel’s had in years. He even finds himself asking for seconds, something he rarely does.

You’re making small talk as he eats, asking about his travels and how long he’s been in Jackson. If he likes it here, how old is his daughter.

Joel decides not to tell you that Ellie isn’t really his daughter, because biologically she isn’t, but it hasn’t felt that way in a long time.

As he eats, and you chat, Joel starts to relax a little. Your presence is calming, and he finds himself enjoying your company more than he thought he would. He pours both of you another drink, his regrets of pouring less last time completely forgotten.

The food is gone and you’ve cleared his plate. But the two of you are still sitting at the kitchen table. He’s not sure if it’s the fact that this is another first— seeing you up close like this. In the light of your kitchen Joel can really take in your features; your cheeks when you smile, and the way your eyes light up when you laugh at some dumb joke he tells.

You ask him about his life before the outbreak, and Joel hesitates before giving a very brief summary of his past. He doesn’t like talking about it all, and he avoids bringing Sarah up completely.

Not tonight. Probably not ever.

You listen attentively and ask Joel questions that show you’re actually interested in what he’s saying.

Joel continues to pour the two of your drinks each time your glasses are empty and you never tell him to stop. You suggest moving to the living room where it’s more comfortable, and Joel agrees without hesitation.

Go home. This is going to end badly.

There is a fire going in your fireplace, and Joel can’t sit down until he puts another log or two on, and he has to move some things around to get it going again.

“I can do it myself,” you say from directly behind him, sounding a little offended.

Joel doesn't even look at you when he responds, "I know you can. Just helpin'."

When he finally turns around, you quickly look away. Joel can’t help but smirk and feel that familiar in his lower belly.

Had you been staring at him?

Joel watches as you sink down into the brown leather couch, curling up with your feet underneath you. He settles beside you with just enough distance to be polite.

“What songs do ya’ know?” Your voice is soft and your words are slightly slurred. The alcohol has definitely started to affect you, but Joel doesn’t think you’re that drunk yet.

Joel looks at the clock on your wall and it reads 10:45 PM. He can do this. An hour and fifteen minutes left, then Joel can escape.

Not that he wants to. He has to or something bad is going to happen. Something he regrets.

Something you might regret.

But when you ask him about songs, he can’t help but smile. The alcohol is going down too easily, way too easy for both of you.

Joel clears his throat. "Whaddya wanna hear?"

You shrug, your cute blue sweater sliding off one shoulder. Joel has to fight himself to keep his eyes on your face as you mindlessly tug the sweater up. It’s like you didn’t even realize it happened. You kept your eyes on him the entire time.

"Somethin' that makes you happy."

The fact that you’re moving your feet to tuck your toes underneath Joel’s right thigh is sending electric shocks to his brain. He leans and grabs the guitar off the wall– careful to not move too much so he can keep the contact between the two of you.

Shit. What is he getting himself into?

Joel holds the guitar, fingers tracing the old wooden curves. It's been a while since he's played at all. The strings feel ice cold under his calloused hands.

Joel strum a couple cords, “Know a few songs,” he says, clearing his throat. “Might be a lil rusty though,” he smirks at you and gives you a sideways glance.

You smile from behind your whiskey glass and Joel feels something shift inside him. Something he hasn't felt in a long time.

Something dangerous.

Your eyes are glittering in the firelight— different than they had looked in the artificial light of your kitchen. It casts a warm glow across your face, softening the edges that Joel has only ever seen sharp and alert on patrol.

He clears his throat once again and continues to move his fingers along the frets. The first few notes come out slightly off-key, but Joel quickly finds his rhythm. He starts with a Garth Brooks song.

Joel knows he’s not the best at the guitar and he doesn’t play it nearly as often now that Ellie is so busy with her own life.

You don’t seem to mind, and sometimes Joel misses a chord or messes up completely because he can’t stop glancing over to watch you watching him.

He starts to sing, his voice low and gravelly. It's not a perfect voice - never was - but there's something raw and honest in the way the words tumble out.

… Blame it all on my roots, I showed up in boots And ruined your black tie affair The last one to know, the last one to show I was the last one you thought you'd see there

You shift slightly, your toes still tucked under his thigh, and Joel catches you watching his hands. Even as he continues to sing. You never take your eyes off of him. Not once.

… 'Cause I've got friends in low places Where the whiskey drowns and the beer chases my blues away And I'll be OK Yeah, I'm not big on social graces Think I'll slip on down to the oasis Oh, I've got friends in low places

Joel's voice falters for a moment when he notices the concentration of your gaze. His fingers momentarily stagger on the guitar strings, creating a clashing note that lingers in the air for a moment before he continues.

You don't seem to notice, or care. Your eyes are locked on his hands, watching how they move across the guitar with a kind of reverence that makes Joel's breath catch.

Joel finishes the song, letting the last chord ring out softly in the quiet room. For a moment, neither of you moves. You're still watching him, your eyes heavy-lidded from the whiskey, but there's something else there too.

Joel’s eyes fall on the clock on your wall and it’s only 11.

He’s completely fucked.

Joel becomes acutely aware of how close you are.

Your toes are still tucked under his leg, and the warmth of your body seeps through the denim of his jeans. Joel swallows hard, trying to ignore the way his heart is racing.

"Another song?" you ask, your voice soft and slightly husky from the whiskey.

Joel clears his throat. "Sure," he manages, repositioning the guitar.

Joel starts strumming again, this time a slower, more mournful tune. His fingers find the familiar chords of an old country ballad, something he used to play for Sarah when she was real little. Before the weight of being a single dad started to apply pressure.

The memories threaten to overtake him, but he forces them down, focusing instead on the way the light flickers across your face. He can feel the heat of your body against his leg, the whiskey making everything feel soft and blurry around the edges. His voice is lower now, almost a whisper, like he's singing just for you.

Joel sings a couple more songs, a few at your request.

"That was really good," you say softly, your eyes meeting his. There's something in your gaze that makes Joel shiver - it’s a weakness, a longing that mirrors something deep inside himself.

When he looks at the clock again it’s 12:30.

“We completely missed new years,” Joel points to the clock and chuckles. He had completely forgotten that’s why he came over here originally. Once the music started, everything else kind of faded away.

It was just the two of you while the rest of Jackson, and possibly the rest of the world stopped existing in that short time.

“I was havin’ a good time,” you’re still smiling at him and now he can see how glassy they are from the whiskey.

“Y’look like y’were havin’ a good time, darlin’.” Joel smiles and starts to stand up from the couch. It’s not until he’s standing directly in front of you realize what’s happening, Joel watches your eyes shift and change.

Are you panicking?

“Are… were–” you cut yourself off and shake your head, waving a hand at Joel dismissively. “Nevermind. Thank you for coming over.” When you turn to look at him, your eyes are rimmed with a glossy sheen. The whites of your eyes had turned a hazy shade of red.

“S’wrong?”

You shrug your shoulders, your sweater falling off your shoulder again. You don’t notice and twirl your whiskey glass in your hand slowly. “Nothin’. I had a good time… just sad you gotta go.”

Joel knows he shouldn’t, but he gently replaces your sweater, his fingers lingering on the warm skin of your collarbone for a moment before he pulls away. “I’m all outta songs, sweetheart.”

“You don’t wanna stay?”

Joel swallows hard and then cuts you off, “For what?” Joel whispers it and you snap your head up to look at him, almost as astonished as he is. Joel knows that the liquor and the way you had been looking at him all night is a recipe for disaster.

Make me leave, please. Kick me out. Don’t ask me to stay again because I won’t be able to say no.

You finish the last of your whiskey before setting your glass down on the coffee table in front of your couch.

“You know what.”

“I do… but we’ve been drinkin’... ‘n I don’t want ya’ regretti–”

“What is there to regret?” you whisper. Your hand snakes into his and Joel doesn’t pull his away or nothing. “You gotta know more songs.”

Joel sits down beside you again, sighing loudly like this is a giant inconvenience to him, but a part of him knows that this isn’t going to end–

Not at all.

Once he takes you upstairs, it’s over for the both of you. It’s like he can taste it in the air.

“One more,” Joel nods his head at you. “Then I’m leavin’.”

He and you both know that’s not true.

His fingers find their holds on the neck of the guitar and he looks over at you before he strums the first note.

You shy away from him, tucking your toes back under his thigh. Joel lifts his leg slightly so you can slip them deeper under his leg.

There's no stronger wind than the one that blows Down a lonesome railroad line No prettier sight than looking back On a town you left behind There is nothin' that's as real As your face that's on my mind

Joel changes the lyrics just a little, and he doesn’t know if you notice, or even if you know this song. He's not ready to sing about love, not at all.

He confidently sings you the next part though.

Close your eyes I'll be here in the morning Close your eyes I'll be here for a while

hopefully y'all had a better time than I did.

love you all so so much

#jackson!joel #joel miller one shot #joel miller fluff #joel plays the guitar #joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #ppcu fandom #ppcu fanfiction #ppcu fics #pedro pascal character #joel tlou

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thef1diary · 2 days ago

Note

How would dirtbag!danny react to you sending him some risqué photos 😏

— that is a dangerous game, nonnie 👀 I’m imagining him miles away, where he can’t come over right away so he’ll have to make do with the photos you sent him, after degrading you on a call that is. 18+ content below

Your phone buzzed almost immediately after you sent the picture—a few sultry shots of you sprawled on your bed, wearing the tiniest scrap of lingerie you owned. The text was simple, just a playful “Thinking of you ;)”, but you knew exactly what you were doing.

Daniel’s reply came in fast.

Holy shit, sweetheart

Another buzz.

You really wanna do this to me right now?

And then your phone rang. You barely had time to speak before his voice came through the line, low and rough. “You’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart.”

You smirked, twisting a strand of hair around your finger. “Am I?”

“Oh, you have no idea,” he said, a hint of a laugh in his voice. “Sitting there looking like that, knowing damn well I can’t touch you. You’re cruel, you know that?”

The sound of him shifting—the rustle of fabric—caught your attention, and your breath hitched.

“Bet you’re feeling real proud of yourself, huh?” he drawled, his voice dripping with mockery. “Sending me photos like that and leaving me sitting here hard as a fucking rock. You’re lucky I’m not there, or I’d have you on your knees, choking on my cock until you’re begging for mercy.”

Your smirk deepened as his words poured through the line, every filthy syllable winding you tighter. You shifted on the bed, your thighs clenching instinctively, and you couldn’t help but tease him back.

“Oh, is that right?” you murmured, dragging your fingers along the edge of your lace panties. “All worked up just from a picture? Thought you could handle me better than this, Danny.”

He let out a low, mocking laugh, the sound rough and filled with promise. “Sweetheart, if I was there, you wouldn’t even have time to be a smartass. I’d already have my hand wrapped around that pretty little throat of yours, reminding you exactly who’s in charge.”

You let out a shaky breath, his words igniting something deep inside you. “Big talk for someone miles away. What are you gonna do about it?”

“Oh, you think distance is gonna stop me?” His voice dropped even lower, laced with that dangerous edge that always made your knees weak. “Sweetheart, I don’t need to be there to control you. You’re mine, remember? And you’re gonna do exactly what I say, no questions asked.”

Your breath caught, a mix of anticipation and defiance bubbling in your chest. “And if I don’t?”

“Oh, you will,” he shot back smoothly. “Because you know what happens when you don’t listen. And after these little photos, you’re already in trouble.”

The casual threat sent a shiver down your spine. “Trouble?” you repeated, feigning innocence.

“You think I wouldn’t notice the time? Sending me that when you know damn well I’m busy?” he asked. “That’s gonna cost you. Next time I see you, I’m gonna put you over my knee and spank you until that ass is covered with my fucking handprints. Then, maybe you’ll think twice before teasing me like this.”

You swallowed hard, the image vivid in your mind, and let out a shaky, “Danny…”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he said smugly. “Now, here’s what you’re gonna do. Slide those panties off—slowly. I want you completely bare for me. Then, I want you to touch yourself, but don’t you dare cum. You’re gonna edge yourself for me, sweetheart, keep yourself nice and ready for when I get there.”

You hesitated for a second, the teasing smile on your face faltering. “And if I don’t?”

His laugh was dark, almost amused. “If you don’t? I’ll make you regret it. I’ll tie you up and make you watch me get myself off instead of giving you what you’re begging for.”

The thought sent a rush of heat through you, and you found yourself complying, your fingers sliding under the waistband of your panties. “Happy now?” you murmured, your voice breathless.

“Not yet,” he said, his tone sharp. “I want proof. Send me a video—of those pretty little fingers working. Let me hear you whine for me, say my name like you mean it. But don’t even think about cumming. That’s for me to decide, not you.”

You bit your lip, already feeling the ache building as your fingers brushed over your slick heat. “You’re impossible,” you muttered.

“And you love it,” he shot back. “Now be a good girl and show me exactly how much.”

He ended the call and with a shaky breath, you propped your phone up and hit record, knowing full well that this little game was far from over—and the consequences would be everything he promised and more.

want more dirtbag!danny? send me an ask with your filthiest thoughts and it’ll get answered during one of my dirty drabble days

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chrystal-ink · 3 days ago

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Shadvent Calendar Day 25!!!!!!!

Shadow X GN Reader

Merry Christmas

Twas the morning of Christmas and all through the house

not a creature was stirring not even a chao.

The Stockings were filled with gifts and much more

And presents under the tree there was so much was in store.

the lovers were snuggled nice and warm in their bed

with dreams of each other dancing round in their head.

and that my dear reader sets the scene,

for I quickly grew tired of this rhyme scheme.

🎄

Shadow was the first to awaken, cracking his eyes open he saw that you were still wrapped in his arms from the night before. he looked down admiring how beautiful you looked as you slept, so serene and gentle. he couldn't help but lay a kiss between your ears, holding you close as you snoozed.

your eyes fluttered open after about thirty minuets, feeling a warm embrace and the sweet sensation of Shadow petting your hair you looked up at him and smiled.

"Good morning sweetheart" you said your voice still a little groggy.

"Good morning my love, merry Christmas" he said gently.

"Is that really today?"

"Yes, would you like some breakfast, or maybe open up some presents?"

"mmm, In a little while, I want to stay here for a bit."

"very well love, take as long as you need."

You two spent the next hour snuggling in bed holding onto each other keeping the cold weather at bay. the two of you holding each other's ungloved hands enjoying the soft intimacy of skin on skin contact. sweet nothings were whispered as the wind blew softly against the window.

"I suppose we should have some breakfast" You said finally ready to begin the day.

"How would you like me to help?"

"Could you feed the Chao and grab our pancake toppings from the pantry"

"Consider it done"

The two of you quickly got to work on your tasks You brewed some coffee and grabbed Shadow his beans. Within a half hour you had a pancake feast ready for the two of you.

After breakfast you couldn't wait anymore. It was time for presents.

The two of you took turns opening one another's gift's. Much to your surprise Shadow was a very advanced gift giver. he gave you things you never thought to ask for, like a replica of your favorite toy from childhood, the perfect accessory for an outfit that never felt quite complete to you, a signed album from your favorite musician. what warmed your heart the most wasn't the things themselves but the fact that he had listened to you, he took the time to know you well enough and chose your gifts from the heart, that was the best gift you received on Christmas morning.

after presents you went on a walk enjoying the winter weather. you played in the snow even letting Shadow's Chao in on the fun.

Vanilla insisted on having everyone over for Christmas dinner. Her home filled with the most wonderful aromas imaginable. a meal made with love and served to a company of your closest friend's, what could be better than that.

That night after the two of you had gone home, you were snuggled up by the fireplace.

"Did You have a good Christmas?" Shadow asked

"The best" you responded

"I'm glad you think so."

Shadow placed a kiss on your lips, warming your insides any hint of a chill destroyed by his love.

"Merry Christmas Shadow"

"Merry Christmas Y/N"

Note: Oh my gosh it's Finally Done!!!! I want to thank everyone who has read this series even if you only read one or two it means so much to me, every like, comment, and reblog really helped push me forward and keep going with this series. this is the first time I've ever completed a project like this and I'm so proud of myself. I started this blog to help me get through a really tough personal time and thanks to all of you lovely readers you helped me get through it. I will be taking a short break for now not too long maybe just a week or two. I have been writing for this blog non-stop since October and I want to avoid any burn out. I will be back soon with Regency Au part three (which is looking to be very long) and chapter one of my enemies to lovers series so be sure look out for those soon. I will continue to do my one shots as well as I really enjoy doing them I think I'll probably need to figure out a schedule lol. until next time, Merry Christmas and have a beautiful Day.

Much love,

-Chrystal

#shadow the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog x reader #shadow x reader #shadow #x reader #sonic fanfiction #not beta read #advent calendar #shadvent calendar

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multipleoccupancy · 2 days ago

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Theo took some comfort in the thought that Samantha would be careful. She was sensible and certainly a very capable agent, more so than him he believed anyway. He had to have faith in her and make sure he did his part right to help protect her. "Yeah, it's kept me safe so far," he smiled about the knife though he didn't really believe in such superstitions, not yet anyway.

She got him to laugh about him being Robin Hood, tickled by the image and comparison and the thought of how to pull it off as NYC's Robin Hood did cross his mind for a moment before he let it go, he had a job to do just as he was instructed. "I'd rather you were safe from the bears, but I think I would make an awesome Robin Hood."

He set the net down carefully when they walked onto the green and he spared a stretch of his own shoulders. That was heavy! But that meant it would be hard to get out of. "Do you think we can help this student?" Theo was hoping so but he also understood the reality of the situation. He had been exposed to the unnatural, tainted by it even, he likely wasn't safe to keep alive or at least free. But perhaps they could reverse what had been done and he would just believe it was all a wild fever dream. Or drugs.

Sloane laughed and shook his head, "I have many talents, but actually flying a plane is not one of them." Though it was in some way flattering that Violet even thought that of him! He would have liked to have been a pilot if he had the chance, but he had often been told he was too tall for the role. Oh well.

Inside the admin office the man behind the computer looked up to assess them, confused and a little intrigued that a professor was there and apparently his young daughter. "Very nice, Astrid," Sloane was sure to tell Violet for her greeting the man but it was also a little subtle praise for her less is more adaptation to the situation. Oh he was already proud.

"I find myself in a bit of a mess," Sloane began with the man, leaning on the counter a little and clearly looking that little bit exasperated. "My daughter, Astrid," he gestured to Violet, there was a warmth in the movement, a natural hand wave that in some ways offered protection as well as attention, "she's had to come to my work while her mom is..." he pretended to stop himself in his tracks, glancing at Violet and then to the man behind the counter, "busy. I have to work late and the poor child is very tired after a long and trying day. I don't suppose there's a dorm room for her to use, just until I am done working for the night? I'll take her home after my work is completed of course. Marking, sucks the life out of people and time right out of the day."

The man looked to them both, his attention turning onto Violet for a long moment while he considered his options. "Can I see your staff card, Professor?" He held his hand out and Sloane handed over his university ID, fake of course, and then put his enormous hand on Violet's shoulder as if trying to keep her warm and comforted in her cold and tired state. Quietly tugging on the heart strings of the man in front of them.

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

Samantha smiled softly. "I know. It's hardly ideal, but it's our best shot at catching the monster." Still unable to hold his hand to comfort him, she nudged him gently instead. "I'll be careful. And I have your knife. I'm sure it'll be good luck." She didn't want to think about all the ways their plan could go wrong. What was the point? She'd rather stay positive.

The bear argument had worked even better than she hoped. "No, no, you can have it," she assured him, "Violet gave it to you. It's yours. I'll just keep it safe in the trunk of my car, and use it on the occasional bear." Samantha would surely become a local legend if she killed a bear with a crossbow. "I'll bring it along on our missions, and you can use it. You'll be a proper Robin Hood." She winked.

They were approaching the patch of grass they had picked to set up the trap, and Samantha wasn't unhappy about it. The net was quite heavy, and even with Killian helping, her shoulders and arms were getting sore.

"You have a pilot costume? Can you fly a plane?" Violet didn't like that at all -as cool as a pilot costume surely was, that meant the Sloane from her timeline probably had the same disguise, and could get inside a plane if he wanted. A dreadful idea.

But she didn't have time to think about it. They were already stepping inside the admin office. She painted a tired look on her features -only stifling a yawn for now. Less was more had said Sloane, and she was eager to do a good job. "Yes, Dad," she said, and the words tasted like ash in her mouth. She smiled through it.

"Good evening," she politely told the man sitting at the desk. Violet had positioned herself slightly behind Sloane, as a shy daughter would. He was so tall and large that he made for quite the reassuring presence -when he was not the threat.

#hvbris #killian #violet #asoue au

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pedrospookie · 20 hours ago

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it seems that the eldest daughters of tumblr all want Joel Miller to come and take care of them (dear god, please please please, my soul needs it). this inspired me to start writing a couple of little Joel tales but until then, i thought this might tide us over.

someone (I think it was @itsokbbygrl ) said in the tags that Joel is a fixer and is def into parental issues and i literally cannot stop thinking about that— cause you are RIGHT.

it’s not my best work but alas!

Joel Miller x eldest daughter!reader imagine

nothing wild, mostly fluff! Joel soothing an eldest daughter’s nervous system one day at a time.

Joel would wash the dishes every night just because he knows how much you hate washing the dishes. It’s the least I could do, darlin’ he’d praise, taking immense pride in seeing the relief fall on your face.

Joel would kiss you just to kiss you; in the comfort of your home as you pass in the hallway, or out at the stables while caring for the horses, even at the bar in front of all the folks who know you. It was his small way to show his unconditional love and appreciation for you. He’d spend all day kissin’ you if he could.

Joel would take the time to rub your feet and ask about your day. His genuine curiosity about the townsfolk you encounter or the adventures you have brought a warmth to your chest as he works on the knots along the arch of your feet. He would always remember the little details of where you’ve been or what you’ve seen, or the names of the people you mention in your stories. Joel wasn’t perfect and would often get confused between Jess, Jessica and Jessa, but he certainly would do his best to keep it all straight.

Joel would listen and hear you. If it was important to you, it was important to him. He didn’t care if it was about how you admired the pretty pink colour of the flowers you passed by on patrol or how you had to remember to mend your socks later. He listened and cared. So much so, that whenever he could, Joel would bring home a small bouquet of said flowers for you after his patrol.

On bad days, Joel would be there. He would hold you through your big, ugly feelings, and tell you that it is okay and that he’s got you. Joel would force himself to stay calm and to speak softly to you, keeping his own panic and worry at bay. He would tell you that he was proud of you and your “smarts”, and that the only thing that matters is that you made it back home to him. He would slowly and gently wash your body and hair clean of all the blood and guts from the nearly failed patrol, and would mend every scrape and wound, sealing each one with a kiss.

And on the nights where you were plagued with terrors, the kind that woke you in a panic, the cold sweat glueing your hair to your neck and forehead, Joel would be there. To hold you and coax you back to sleep, rubbing soft circles on your back, and softly murmur that it is okay, that you’re safe.

In the mornings, you always woke to the smell of coffee wafting it’s way into your room. Joel always made sure to wake up before you, to let you have those extra few minutes in bed because he knew you needed them. He’d greet you with a big smile and a kiss, the kind that made you feel like you were back in the early days of your relationship. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, he would say as he placed your meal in front of you. Joel never let you leave the house without something warm in your belly.

Joel knew that you were more than capable of caring for yourself. Hell, you had survived 20 years in that hellscape overrun by infected, raiders and god knows what else. You had told him time and time again, often through gritted teeth, I’ve got this. I can do this myself. I do not need your help. Can you just let me handle this, please!

Slowly, yet surely, with patience and kindness, Joel slowly broke down your walls until you were ready to let him in. To accept the peace and love he had to offer. Joel is not a perfect man, but he tries. Which is more than most. He tries his damnedest every day to keep showing up for you the way he knows you deserve. To show you and make you feel the love, peace and respect that you deserve. And that? Well, that makes Joel feel a deep sense of joy that he hasn’t felt in years. He will gladly do it until his dying breath and that is a promise he will never break. The easiest job he’s ever had was lovin’ you.

tagging some folks who may like this (if not/tags aren’t your thing, just tell me to buzz off! I wont be offended!): @slimybeth69 @itsokbbygrl @mrsmando @evolnoomym @sanarsi @marilovespedro @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal

#tessa's assets #Joel Miller x Eldest Daughter!Reader #joel miller #joel miller thoughts #tlou series #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #this isn’t my best work and was a lil bit of a brain dump #but it scratches an itch #eldest daughter syndrome #Mr. Joel ‘fix it’ Miller #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfiction #tlou #pedro pascal

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hurlingdown · 21 hours ago

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REVERSED HUNTER X HUNTED TROPE MMMM (hunter x hunter reference??)

You're being chased in the middle of the night. It all began with a small mistake, and now ending with the renowned bounty hunter, Zoro.

the determined hunter was closing in on you...and, luck was not on your side, you suddenly found yourself trapped in a dead end.

"You've no way out." zoro declared, pointing his swords at you. "You have two options: either surrender yourself, or I'll be forced to do this in a hard way."

He said it so intimidating, yet so...*hot*.

"What's the hard way?" You smile at him, voice soft spoken.

He felt his breath hitch at your smile,

..that's new.

"Turning you in for a prize, of course."

He responded with a calm and serious tone, but there was a hint of nervousness in it. He didn't expect you to be so calm and smile at him like that.

"hmm.." you hum in thought. "I can think of another hard way~" you step closer, now being the one chasing him.

Pushing him against the alley way wall, and..soon enough..

The alleyway was filled with the sounds of your bodies moving against each other, as well as the soft gasps and moans that escaped Zoro lips his body trembling with pleasure as you fucked him harshly against the bricked wall, grilling his hips, arching his back.

He tried to hold onto the wall for support, but his grip was weak and his fingers were digging into the bricks, ruining his callused swordsman hands. His back was arched, his chest pressed against the wall as he desperately tried to control his voice.

"H-hah... Please... I'm- Ngh! Sorry I hunted you down.. just let me come!!"

After this, he would never turn you in, you're a prize in and of itself~

- 🍽️ anon ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ ͡⁠°⁠ ͜⁠ʖ⁠ ͡⁠°⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

the HARD way. ingenious. got me fanning myself here. i might just turn this into forest primal play for the funsies 🙂‍↕️

he’s a bounty hunter, you’re a notorious criminal. zoro’s never met someone quite like you—lightning fast reflexes despite your strong build, stealthy and quick even in the dead of night. from the moment he saw you, hiding in the rowdy crowds of the city, you were his prey.

or so he thought.

he’s closing up to you, your shadow bounding ahead, and he squints—takes a moment to notice that the both of you are no longer in the city, but a forest in the middle of nowhere. it doesn’t matter, not really. he has his swords with him, sturdy in the crook of his sweaty palms, and he’s ready for whatever fight you’re willing to give him.

but just as zoro thinks he’s going to catch up to you, you suddenly disappear, your trail long gone. he’s lost. in the middle of nowhere. he feels something creep by, the whistle of a breath, but you’re not in sight.

just as he’s about to give up, heart pounding heavily in his chest, he turns and sees you, standing there, proud with the slash of a feral grin on your face.

fuck. zoro wants to plunge his swords into you, one by one. he wants to cut that almost flirtatious smile off your face, make you bleed as he watches. he wants to . . . he wants you so badly.

he trembles, his swords slipping from his hands, stabbing into the ground with little resistance. you’re getting closer. he should run. he should, but . . .

you gently pry the third sword from his lips, and his eyes flutter shut, his breath hitching.

he can feel pure, unbridled need vibrating in him, to strip off your clothes and his own, to be connected to you in some way or the other, to feel you inside him, hot and hard and throbbing and mean with your chest pressed against his back and your hands around his throat. to be hunted by the hunted, he thinks, and shudders.

when he opens his eyes again to meet your gaze, you’re staring at him again, strange and hungry. zoro licks his lips, and swallows.

#✧ shooting stars.#🍽️ anon #gonna stop here #my bad i got carried away #THS WAS SO HOT BTW!!! thank you for the thirst ☺️

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itwasntimethatdidit40 · 2 days ago

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So, I was waiting until I had some time to really focus on this, because I didn’t want for that to get poor attention and my distracted or hasty reading.

Anyway, at least I got to the end of the first part so here we gooooo.

I really like this little world you've created, I can smell it, taste it, hear it, and I can almost feel the dust clouding my eyes.

The tension between them is so damn intense, oh my God 🥵 And she's like me in many ways I have to say, more than I'd like to admit LOL she's proud, fierce, she never wants to ask anyone for help and may God strike her down if she makes the first move AHAHAHAHAH fuck that, grumble to herself endlessly is so much better, of course, it makes perfect sense 😂😂😂 and I hate, I hate being belittled and treated like I'm stupid that doesn’t notice things as much as she does. She's me, that's it. we’re such dickheads lol reader, I love you and I feel you babe 🫂

Joel is no exception, however, we are all in bad shape when it comes to communication skills 🥲

I loved how she hates it when he treats her like a little girl, the constant teasing, him pretending not to be jealous when in fact he wants nothing more than to possess her.

It’s so good 🥵

I love the way you drew Joel, he's so sexy I could explode and even though the world of cowboys is so far away from me and I don't understand anything about it (a damn thing, really) I found myself immersed in this story and oh my God, the angry way they do it 🥵🥵🥵

I was biting my lip so hard haaaaaa oh god please I need this big sweaty man to fuck me until I feel like putting my pride away Jesus if there's one thing I'm a world champion at it's ignoring people who ignore me for the rest of my life and beyond lol

I also love her father (in my opinion he is more aware than he seems, this man is not telling me the truth heheheheh) and Tommy so boastful and seducer, he’s so damn irresistible🤭

Can’t wait to read the second part, sorry if it takes me longer than expected but it's the holidays and I'm Italian and my relatives are always in the middle 🙄

Until then: you 👏🏻 did 👏🏻 so 👏🏻 fucking 👏🏻 great 👏🏻 my 👏🏻 dear 👏🏻

I’m in awe, really and I love that ♥️

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joel huffs a soft laugh. “True.”

“You compete?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You runnin’ from something?”

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

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

“No, it ain’t,” he adds quietly.

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

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

That catches you off guard. “My dad?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It ain’t like that.” He says lowly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your routine locks into place, and the days begin to pass in a blur. Joel stops by for coffee and acts like the conversation you had in the barn never happened. The stoic, gruff cowboy thing works just fine with you. Except for the moments you catch him staring at you like he’s trying to find an answer to something he never asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Afternoon,” he calls, steady and smooth.

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

“That the Hancock gelding?”

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

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

You can barely hold back your eye-roll. “I had Barb meet me at the farm for a pre-purchase exam. Passed with flying colors.” You swallow down your irritation. Once again Joel thinks you’re a fool? That you’d go off and pick up a horse without a vet inspection? Before you give Joel a piece of your mind you take a steadying breath, grounding yourself and whispering into Blue’s ear. “He might doubt both of us but he’ll be eating his fuckin’ words real quick once you and I get started.” With that, you turn away and lead Blue to the barn.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

From where Joel stands, he can’t make out every detail, but it doesn’t stop his eyes from lingering. You draw his attention with a pull that he can’t resist. Against his better judgment. He traces the line of your spine as you step forward, the way your hips shift when you pivot. He knows better than to look, knows it’s wrong, but he can’t stop himself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s the plan.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You make another lap before you let yourself study Joel.

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

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

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

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

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

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

His cool look sends a shiver down your spine.

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

You have the same stubborn streak as your father and you’d be damned if you’re gonna cave and ask Joel to use his facility. You find a summer barrel series in a nearby town with low entry fees that runs weekly. You start hauling Blue out to get some experience. At first, his runs are clumsy, but as you get your miles in, his turns get tighter, his confidence grows, and your times get quicker. And you quickly feel like the two of you are ready to enter your first rodeo. The air smells like dirt and livestock, as you unload your horse and tie him to the side of your trailer. There’s a hum from the generators, buzzing conversations, and the occasional whinny of a horse or thud as one paws at the dirt. You had made a point not to ask if Joel and Tommy would be attending, but you catch his familiar shoulders tapering to his slim waist, with one boot on the lowest rung of the fence a few yards ahead when you head toward the warmup pen before your division gets called. He isn’t even facing your direction but you instinctively square your shoulders and raise your chin. You wonder if he’s just here to see if you’re going to fail. Or maybe he’s just watching to earn some other woman’s favor.

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

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

The devil on your shoulder whispers a thought in Linda’s teasing voice. He doesn’t need to do all that to get lucky. You take a deep breath and peel yourself away from the sight. You’re here to focus on Blue, not your asshole neighbor and his conquests. Despite trying to let go of your issues with Joel, a scowl stays plastered on your face throughout your warmup. Blue picks up on your distraction and he’s a little hot, as you head him toward the alleyway when it’s time for your run. Against your will, your eyes search for Joel. A wash of heat floods your veins when you find him already watching you. He mouths good luck at you and you can only manage a curt smile before you’re pushing Blue to a lope, making one tight circle before you cross the start. The sound of his hooves pounding into the dirt matches the blood pounding in your ears. The burst of adrenaline is instant. The run isn’t perfect. He breaks his stride around the second barrel and you lose time nudging him back into rhythm, but you finish the pattern without knocking anything over. The announcer calls your time as you slow to a trot, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. It’s such a blur you don’t think to look for Joel. You don’t think about him at all until you’re untacking Blue at your trailer, brushing sweat marks from his coat when movement near another horse trailer catches your eye. Joel stands close to a woman with long, shiny dark hair. She flashes a wide smile, leaning toward him and resting a hand lightly on his arm. The sight makes you grimace. You shove down the feeling. “None of our business,” you mutter to Blue as you keep brushing. But, your eyes flick back despite yourself. She tilts her head, laughing at something he says, or doesn’t say, you can’t tell. He stands stiffly, hands in his pockets. You can’t see his face from your angle.

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

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

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

You realize as your boot hits the last step that you’ve never been to his place. He always offers to have you and your dad over for a whiskey or for a fire out back, but you always brush him off. You see why your dad takes him up on it though. It’s beautifully made with stunning wooden chairs and a bench for seating. You’d consider complimenting him on his craftsmanship if you weren’t already dreading what you’re about to say. Joel opens the door, his hat already in hand like he’d been expecting you. “Somethin’ wrong?” “Yeah,” you admit, trying not to hesitate. “Uh, trailer’s shot,” you point your thumb in the direction of your dad’s place. “Was wondering if you’d have room in your trailer to haul Blue with your horses.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The silence that follows is suffocating.

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

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

The smell of barbecue wafts through the air and you get in line to fill your plate. Folks chat eagerly. Tommy strikes up an easy conversation with a group of riders near the picnic tables. You watch as some folks head back to their campsites, hesitating on whether you want to do the same or find a table. Joel passes you and sits at a nearby table and before you can debate any longer a voice interrupts your thoughts. “Long travel day?” the wiry cowboy drawls, tipping his hat and gesturing to the bench next to him. “Take a seat.”

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

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

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

“Where’s Tommy?” you ask, realizing it’s just the two of you in the small space. “Reckon he’ll be out til the sun's up,” Joel says in a quiet, low tone. “Alright,” you nod. Another point goes to Linda for that one, you figure. Joel’s jaw remains set in that infuriatingly unreadable way that seems to be his signature look. The dim light in the trailer casts sharp shadows across his face that darken his gaze. “You enjoy yourself? With your new friend?” he asks, his voice raw, edged with something you can’t place. You stop short, narrowing your eyes. “Excuse me?” He steps closer, reaching past you to hang his hat on the hook by the door. “Took your time gettin’ back.” He says, his eyes flick over you, dark and assessing. You’re acutely aware of the scent of the campfire on your shirt and beer on your lips. It swirls with his leather and bourbon musk like they were designed to enhance each other. His words sink in, cutting and daring. “What’s your point?” “Did you fuck him?” The bluntness of it knocks the breath out of you. Your mouth falls open. Shock and fury battling for control as you glare at him. “What did you just say to me?” “You heard me, sweetheart,” Joel says, his voice calm but razor-sharp. “Just wondering if that cowboy got what he was after.” It takes everything in you not to slap him across the face. “What the fuck,” you hiss, stepping closer, your fists clenched at your sides, “makes you think you’ve got the right to ask me that, Joel?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s an exquisite brand of torture.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The view makes you salivate.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Joel, please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You wait for him to say something characteristically Joel. To dismiss you as naive, to rub it in that he broke you down. That he had you crying his name. That you shouldn’t have done that.

But it never comes. You’re convinced he was trying to put you in your place. To give you another reminder that he thinks you’re useless and clueless. You’re too wrapped up in the thoughts to speak or move. He doesn’t say anything at all which nearly makes it worse. Instead, he pins you under a heavy arm, holding you against him until you both doze off. Succumbing to exhaustion.

-> PART TWO

dividers by @/saradika-graphics 🤠��

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

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

@swankyorange @itwasntimethatdidit40 @ivoryandflame @magneticecstasy

@indiegirlunited @syd-djarin @harriedandharassed @bbyanarchist

@94namkooksworld

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

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meetinginsamarra · 1 day ago

Text

My AO3 wrapped 2024

The Curious Case of the Casablanca Killer 56k

Deemed a three at best, the case of an invisible burglar in a historic cinema who stole nothing only caught Sherlock’s attention because he was bored. Also, he wanted to do John a favour. In the end, this proved to be a real stroke of luck. Otherwise, Sherlock would have missed an intriguing mystery that quickly ramped up in complexity.

I started the year writing/finishing the casefic which is a gift to my friend and beta reader @peageetibbs . This took way over a year to write, as there had been a lot of plotting and figuring out clues and deductions. Also, several breaks in writing because of IRL or when other fics "interfered" and delayed finishing it.

It's a complex intriguing case starting in a historic cinema and our heroes exhibit a well-established friendship.

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Mayprompts 2025 - hosted by calaisreno

The 31 prompts this May generated a boost of creativity that spawned 3 ficlets, 2 limericks and one poem as well as two stories (see below).

Open

Sherlock comes back from the dead and John welcomes him home in a most unexpected way.

Family Day

Little Rosie defends her best friend and is pretty smart about it.

The Blanket Detective

Sharing a bed with Sherlock ist perilous.

2 Limericks and 1 Poem

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Also, I wrote two 12k fics, continuously using the other prompts which totally surprised me as their plot developed so quickly nearly without my doing. LOL

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The Perfect Place 10k

Sherlock needs a flatmate and already has the perfect person in mind. Now he only needs to convince his object of desire to move in and also find out if he desires Sherlock as well.

This began with the may prompt "box" and developed into the "Bed Shop Boys-AU" (@helloliriels coined this lovely moniker). The only ever AU where John works as a bed shop assistent! This is pure fun and people claimed in the comments to have laughed a lot. Happy Johnlock end!

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White Pony Tattoo 11k

John Watson needs a tattoo covered up. Sherlock Holmes of "White Pony Tattoo" is one of the best artists in London. He's also difficult and brilliant and beautiful as John is about to find out.

I love tattoo shop AUs and finally had an idea for writing my own. A little bit of enemies (Sherlock is a beautiful, seductive arsehole at first) to lovers (John finds out what Sherlock is hiding underneath his pricky shell), a bit of hurt/comfort and a happy ending.

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Take My Broken Love 48k

Standing on the airfield's tarmac and about to fly off to a suicide mission, Sherlock says what he had always wanted to say to John but never had. His words drastically changed the course of events.

This year's whumptober again sucked me into a deep writing rabbit hole. For about six weeks I used practically all the spare I had (and a lot of time I dd not actually have) to write this. Again, it has been a great experience to be so immersed into writing and again, it was (positively) stressful af.

I had this concept in my mind that all of the main characters' love for someone is broken and flawed.

Starting with an alternative ending of the tarmac scene, the first half of the fic concentrates on their hurt and emotional whump which sets the stage for what happens next. The second half concentrates on Sherlock's mission and features more physical whump. I had a plotty spy mission in my mind with lots of twists and intrigues. I also focused a lot on characterization.

I am still beyond thrilled and incredibly proud that I could pull this off so well. (I know, I'm praising myself, but still, comments confirm it.) I personally think that this is my best writing, technically and plot-wise.

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A Minor Detail

Sherlock has found the perfect flatmate for sharing 221b Baker Street. If only there would not be that minor detail in the small print of the lease agreement. Now, John has no other choice but take part in Sherlock‘s scheme.

I participated in Fandom Trumps Hate for the first time this year and @lostinsherlock44 generously bid on me.

I had this funny idea and then, the characters seemingly acted out of their own will and the fic just developed. This is definitely the funniest thing I have ever written and lots of comments tell about readers having laughed out loud. This makes me so very happy in return that my writing could give people a little good time and happiness.

#my sherlock fanfics #my AO3 wrapped 2024 #masterpost #the curious case of the casablanca killer #the perfect place #white pony tattoo #take my broken love #a minor detail

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sparks-and-smoke · 1 day ago

Note

Would it be possible to get a fic about Bucky and his GF getting caught on a date by the media. The GF is Pluse size and maybe someone makes a mean comment about her size? Cue protective Bucky who LOVES his girl so much

This is precious. And while I am almost certain you mean normal Bucky I had an idea for a popstar reader soooo. You’re getting Bodyguard Bucky. Ooops~ hope you like it anyway. 🩵

Characters/Pairings: Bodyguard!Bucky x Plus size popstar! Reader

Content/Warnings: fatphobia, body image issues, and illusions to smut at the end. Bucky is gonna be super sweet, but if this kind of thing triggers you steer clear. Stay safe, babes!

Author Note: this is written on my phone, and not beta read. So… extend me some grace :)

It was almost preternatural in a way, the way Bucky could sense when you weren’t ok. The way he seemed to know the moment he walked in your door that he was gonna have to chase away storm clouds, but it never failed. Your bodyguard always knew. And he made it his life mission to keep his sunshine girl from flickering out.

“What have you been reading.” He asked, his face stern and jaw clenched but his eyes softer then they had any right to be.

You sigh, turning off your phone screen and setting it face down, “Nothing, just an article.”

“An article about you?” He asked, tilting his head to try and see your eyes. He already knew the answer, because he followed what the media was saying. From the moment you stepped onto the scene the topic of discussion hovered around your weight more then it had any right to be. It didn’t matter that you had a voice that gave people goose bumps or that your presence on stage could light up a stadium all on your own. Because you weren’t a tiny little Barbie doll none of that seemed to matter.

You had been a beacon of positivity through it all though. Using your platform and following to promote self love and healthy habits at all sizes. Focusing on moving your body and prioritizing health over weight or measurements. Bucky adored you for it. Thought you were an angel, deserving of the world. Ans he wished everyone else thought that as well.

“Stars did an article on me.” You admitted, getting up and heading to the kitchen for some water. Not meeting Buckys eyes. “They are covering my casting in hairspray.”

“Yeah?” Bucky followed closely behind. He was proud of you for landing that role. You deserved it, you were gonna be a perfect Tracey. “What about it.”

You still wouldn’t meet his eyes. “It’s nothing James. There just saying I’m perfect for the role.”

Jame. James?! You never called him James. He was always Bucky, sometimes Bucky baby if you were really in a mood. That’s how he knew whatever they had written had hit a chord. “Angel… what did it say.”

You just shake your head and down your water. It really didn’t matter. It wasn’t anything that hadn’t been said before. To be honest, you don’t know why it was bumming you out so badly.

Except you did know why. Because you had dreamed of being on broadway your entire life. Since you were a little girl. And now… that dream was coming true. But all anyone wanted to talk about was how the plus sized popstar landed the fat girl role because what else could she be…

“Angel. You’re thinking awfully loud over there. You gonna tell me or am I gonna have to pull it out of you?” He stepped in closer. His smoky sweet aftershave wafting around you, pulling your eyes up to look at him. His glacial blue eyes were begging, pleading you to talk.

“They-“ you sigh, shoulders drooping. “They got a picture of me coming out of rehearsal. I’m in sweats, it’s unflattering and the whole article is about how I’ve put on weight for the role. Which I haven’t, if anything I’ve lost some from constant practices. But that’s not the point..” your voice cracks.

“I’m tired James. I am tired of having to be put together all the time or the paparazzi makes it all about how I let myself go. I finally reached what I concider to be a highlight of my career-” You voice cracks. The damn that had been slowly cracking inside your chest finally breaking. “And all anyone wanted to to talk about is how my thighs look in my sweats!”

Bucky was already moving. Pulling you into his arms. Tucking your eyes up under his chin as you shake with anger and frustration. Smoothing your hair from your face and kissing your temple with a lingering touch. “There we go, let it out.”

He lets you rant. Pushing down his own anger and frustration. You were the most beautiful person he knew. Inside and out. He had worked for a couple different celebrities over the years and none had the same golden heart as you. None. “I’m so sorry Angel. It’s a load of shit and we both know it but I know thy doesn’t make it easier.”

He closed his eyes. Kissing your hair. “You are beautiful. Every inch of you. From the top of your head to the tips of your toes. I hope you know that.” He pulls back to look into your red rimmed eyes. Cupping your cheek. “You are talented and charming and you draw people to you like flies to honey. And everyone with a brain can see it. I promise. Whoever wrote that article was poking at low hanging fruit that anyone of substance doesn’t care about. You are perfect.”

His voice drips with sincerity as his eyes roam your face. Pads of his thumb wiping away angry tears. “I think you need to put down your phone for the day. Why don’t you give it to me or to Alice and we’ll focus on things that actually matte today ok?”

You blink away tears, considering it. You could hand off your phone. Let your assistant answer your phone for the day, she will let her know if it’s something she needs to answer directly. But, unplugging was hard-

“Come on angel, we will go punch some stuff at the gym. And then I’ll take you for froyo at that boba place you like.” He tucks your hair behind your ear. “And then you can shower and I’ll help you unwind before you have your go practice tonight. How about that.” His voice was laced with promise. With sweet dark temptation as he leans forward and whispers the thing he could do to help you feel better. And you bite your lip as you know he will follow through on every one.

“How about we shower first?”

Bucky smiles, guiding you back toward your room as his hands slip under the hem of your shirt. “Whatever you want princess, let me show you how perfect I really think you are~”

#bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #plus size reader #bodyguard!bucky #maybe I’ll make this an AU. I am actually kind of in love with these two.#sparks picks up

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merlincmgirl · 3 days ago

Text

Oral - 212th x FReader - NSFW

Summary: Looking after your men in the 212th is a top priority, and after the stress of everything becomes too much, they offer to help you unwind.

Characters: Cody, Waxer, Boil, Wooley, Helix, Crys

Pairing: 212th x F!Reader

Word Count: 12,308

Warnings: , oral (female & male receiving), face riding, rimming, cock-warming, group sex, aftercare, angst, fluff, smut,

Author's Note: Happy Holidays! It's a Christmas miracle! I will have finally finished the Kinktober Challenge I set myself tomorrow. It's been a difficult few months, but I'm so proud of myself for doing this.

"I don't kriffing believe this! Get out of my medbay trooper if you know what's good for you!" You snarled, pointing to the door as you pinched the bridge of your nose. Somehow today it seemed like the shinies were taking it as their personal mission to piss you off. It was the 5th shiny today that had come in with something so minor it could have been treated by themselves. It just added to the stress you had been under lately.

"Technically it's my medbay" a rough tone grumbled from behind you.

You spun around, sending Helix a contrite look. "Technically they're your brothers but they seem to enjoy annoying me more!" You snapped back at him.

Helix raised an eyebrow, not used to you snapping at him or the short temper that had gotten spectacularly shorter as the week had progressed.

"Alright civvie, want to tell me what's wrong?" He offered, coming over to help you clean away the supplies you had used to treat a trooper's burn from a spark down in engineering.

"I'm fine. Just your brothers seem to be coming in today with the most ridiculous injuries that a womp rat could treat. You know, one shiny came in with a bruise on his arm. A bruise! That can be treated with the bacta you all carry in your belts!" You ranted, bungling up the scratchy paper that lined the examination bed.

Helix didn't say anything, agreeing that today seemed to be full of ridiculous vods coming in with superficial injuries. It was their 9th day in hyperspace travelling to the next battle, they were becoming restless and bored, having little to entertain them during the long hours in hyperspace. He could understand the frustration you had but not the intensity of your reaction. You were always the kindest of all his medics, the one that troopers rushed to instead of him because at least you'd soften the blow with a comforting word rather than the insults and hypos that he himself liked to use.

"They've just got a bit of cabin fever. It'll change once we reach the next planet" Helix remarked, careful to appear like he was clearing things away and not that he was side eyeing you from where he was standing.

Huffing, you rolled your eyes – Helix was genuinely concerned you'd burst a blood vessel at that intensity – and let out a short laugh. "Then what? It's just the same thing over and over. You boys get thrown into battle, I have to patch you up, see my friends die when I could save them and then just pretend nothing has happened and start again. And deal with your idiotic brothers when they get hurt from doing something stupid!"

"If it wasn't for this war, we wouldn't have been created, civvie" Helix stated, frown settling on his face. The clones had mixed emotions about the war, without it, they wouldn't have been created. But if they hadn't, then there would be no one to stop the Seppies and protect people from their rule.

"I know, doesn't mean I have to like it" you sighed, rubbing at your tired, strained eyes and slumping against the bed.

"When was the last time you slept?" Helix asked, voice already taking on an accusing edge that set your hackles up.

"I don't know, I've been busy" you huffed, forcing yourself back onto your feet to prepare the tray for the next patient that walked in.

The CMO sent you a stunningly unimpressed look, making sure you caught how he looked around the practically empty med bay. If you weren't so annoyed, you'd be impressed. "Yes, I can see that" he drawled, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Anyway, how is it your business?" You grumbled, brow furrowing as your hands shook. From how exhausted you were or the stress, you didn't know, but you clenched them tightly to keep them steady.

"The welfare of the men and the whole crew of the Negotiator is my business. Including you" he reminded, crossing his arms and giving up pretending to help now. Something was obviously going on with you. "Have you spoken to Cody about this?" He asked softly, voice lowering, even though there was nobody around to listen in.

You scoffed bitterly, sending Helix a withering look. "You mean when I pass him in the halls, or the two minutes he has to call me. Yeah, of course it comes up" you snapped, anger glaring through you all of a sudden. You didn't know why you were so mad. Either you were mad at Cody for barely saying a few words to you in the last few days or you were mad at yourself for being angry at Cody because he was just busy doing his job.

Shocked at your reaction, Helix placed a steadying hand on your shoulder and you slumped, feeling the fight leave you. "Why don't you go and grab some food from mess and get some sleep? I can hold everything down here until you come back" he suggested, already cutting off your protests before they could start.

"Fine, but I'm not happy about this. I can work just as well as anybody else on this ship!" you said sharply, grabbing your data pad off the desk. Maybe you could file some paperwork in your quarters for a bit before hopefully falling asleep.

"I know that civvie! Now get out of my medbay until you've had at least 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep!" Helix ordered, crossing his arms and sending you on your way.

Helix frowned, watching your form disappear through the medbay doors, wondering how he could help you. It was no surprise that Cody’s riddur was feeling the stress of spending so little time with her Commander. Their deployment had seen the 212th face battle, after battle after battle. And that meant many more troopers coming into the medbay with a variety of injuries. Some you could save, others you couldn’t. He was no stranger to exhaustion and stress after seeing so many of his vode die, no matter how much those damned long necks tried to erase it out of them.

Resolving to talk to Cody about this, he knew something had to be done. He cared about you, and he dared to count you as a friend. So he would try and help you deal with the stress and anger that was bubbling up inside of you.

Here he was, standing outside the door of his commanding officer hoping to talk to him about his girl. What he did for his brothers!

"Commander" Helix greeted, stepping into the Marshal Commander's office and saluting him.

"Helix, everything alright? Obi-wan hasn't escaped again, has he?" Cody teased, sending him a small exhausted grin as he went through a stack of data pads.

"Not that I'm aware of. But thankfully, he can't get into too much trouble while in hyperspace" Helix rolled his eyes, glad that he wasn't dealing with the Jedi nonsense at the moment. "However we have a different problem" he informed his Commander, shoulders stiffening.

Cody frowned, wondering what had caused his brother to become so tense. "Take a seat" he nodded, glancing at the chair in front of his desk. He noticed that he kept his posture straight, his shoulders tense and a worried frown was painted over his face. "What's the problem?" Cody asked, ready to put out this fire as well as the 20 others on his desk. He really needed to get back to the 18th Battalion to discuss their potential new attack formation.

"It's about your girl and my fellow medic" Helix stated, raising an eyebrow at his brother.

Cody's mind instantly came to a stand still. What was wrong? Was you hurt? Had something happened to you? Had one of his brothers upset you? The endless list of what could have gone wrong poured through his head.

"What's wrong with her?" Cody demanded, feeling his insides churn in worry.

"She's not doing too good. She's snapping at everyone, she made a shiny cry this morning and has been a menace in my medbay" Helix reported, crossing his arms and sending Cody a stern look.

"That doesn't sound like her at all. She's normally the one everyone goes to if they had a choice between you and her" Cody murmured, making Helix roll his eyes. "I've noticed she's become a lot quieter and snappy with me. But I never thought she'd act like this around others" Cody admitted, shaking his head.

"She's not sleeping well, hasn't been eating well either. The last few campaigns have been rough, we've lost a lot of men" Helix stated, although he didn't need to remind Cody of that. The Commander spent most of his days reading casualty reports for the 212th and other battalions. He knew exactly how many men were lost in battle.

Cody sighed heavily, leaning back into his padded office chair. Obi-Wan had insisted that they replaced his old one. Citing how long they both had to do paperwork, they should at least have somewhere comfortable to sit. He was glad of it now as he thought about what to do in this situation.

"Thinks we'll replace her because she's not been bred to deal with all this" Helix added.

Cody scoffed, bitterness curling in his stomach as he thought back to Kamino. "We still get affected by it. Of course we wouldn't replace her for caring" he muttered, shaking his head. "What am I going to do with my cyare?" He sighed heavily, running a hand through his tight curls.

"Try talking to her di'kut!" Helix grumbled, making Cody's head snap up. "I've sent her away to bed and to get something to eat, but it's you that she's missing! Almost snapped my head off when I asked about you. So you need to talk to her so we can find a way to help her relax and de-stress before our upcoming campaign, otherwise I'm signing her off for burnout" Helix ordered, looking at his brother sternly and leaving no room for arguments.

That was one of the first things that Cody had learned. Never mess with a medic. Their oath only covered so far and they were more than prepared to stun you if it meant you would let them do their jobs.

There was a way to help you de-stress and it was something you had both discussed before. It may help you feel better about everything, but he did want to talk to you first. Something was obviously on your mind, and he hadn't been around to help you and support you through it. This campaign had took a lot of his time and efforts up, but that was no excuse. He would have to do better when reaching out to you and communicating during these hectic times.

Resolved to sort this out in one way or another, he nodded, plan of action already forming. He would set everything up and then you and he could have a talk before you either agreed to go ahead with his plan or wished to just quietly sort everything out with him. Either way, he was prepared.

Cody nodded once more about his decision, he had become more and more concerned about you as well. If even his officers were bringing it to his attention then something had to be done. “Agreed. Thank you for bringing it to my attention. Bring all available Ghost officers to room 1104 at 2100 hours” Cody instructed, typing away on his vambrace.

“Yes Commander” Helix saluted him and went to follow Cody’s instructions. Secure in the knowledge that Cody had got this handled.

When Cody managed to wrangle everything for the day, he found you in your rooms. As the door closed behind him, you barely looked away from the pot you were stirring in your small kitchenette.

“Hey sweetheart, what you doing?” he greeted, beginning to strip off his armour and place it next to the door.

“Hmm, just cooking dinner. Hungry?” you murmured, eyes unseeing of your dinner. You couldn’t help but think of all the work that was no doubt starting to pile onto your desk. There was the annual check-ups due soon for every trooper aboard the Negotiator, and it took a bit of time to prepare and order the supplies needed to vaccinate everyone.

“Smells delicious” he remarked, before coming over behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing himself against your back. He sighed in relief, soaking in your scent and relaxing presence. “And I’m always hungry, cyare. Ravenous” he tried to joke, hoping to lighten the mood.

“Good” you replied, side stepping out of his arms and busying yourself with preparing the side dish.

Cody frowned, watching as your shoulders seemed to rise, tension spread across them and the short jerky movements you were doing. Helix had been right. You were a lot more stressed than he realised. He was already thinking up ways on how to approach you when he heard your sniffle and the way you seemed to sink further into yourself.

Unable to take watching you cry and be upset, Cody instantly rushed back over to you, resting his hand on your shoulder. He was shocked when you pushed him away, flinching under his hand and stepping back. You had never done that to him before.

“Love, what’s wrong?” Cody asked, wanting to bring you into his arms to hold you and comfort you. But he knew it wouldn’t work, it would be detrimental to him finding out what was going on with you and talking about it.

“Nothing, I’m fine” you huffed, wiping away the tears and refusing to look at him. You didn’t want to see if he was angry with you, or upset. You just wanted to cry and be left alone.

“Talk to me, everyone can see how stressed you are. I’m here for you, I want to be here for you if you’d let me” Cody said softly, his voice reassuring and calm.

Admittedly it did help soothe your nerves for a moment, knowing he wasn’t angry but concerned about your behaviour. But the rush of sudden anger had words flying out of your mouth before you could even think about stopping them, as you spun around and glared at him.

“Here for me? When? When you remember that I exist? Or when you want someone to fuck?” you snapped at him, tears streaming down your face. It did nothing to hide the flash of hurt that crossed over Cody’s face at your words.

“Mesh’la, that’s not fair. It has been one thing after another trying to prepare for this battle. It’s not an excuse, but my time has been taken up by those preparations. I promise, you were on my mind during all of this. You never leave my mind, mesh’la” he admitted, taking a step closer to you and reaching out for your hand. He sighed in relief when you didn’t pull away from him. “Before we were lovers, we were friends. I want to know when you’re hurting, I want to know when you’re stressed, I want to know you, sweetheart. Is that so impossible to believe?” he breathed, looking into your teary eyes.

“Yes” you muttered, hand coming up to swipe at your tears. But he was right, you had been friends before and your words wasn’t fair to him. You knew before you started dating him that Cody was an important and busy man. He was second in command of the 3rd System Army, many people depended on him. He provided a lot of advice and strategies to the companies under him. He wasn’t always going to be able to be with you, or even talk to you some days. You just didn’t know why you were taking it this hard.

“Pretty girl, you have always been my light shining in the darkness. You see me as Cody, not as Marshal Commander or a man who shares his face with a million others. You see me, and for a clone, that is special enough. You are special” he admitted, before shaking his head ruefully. “I don’t- I don’t know how to explain just how much I love you. But when I see you hurting – like you are now – that kills me, mesh’la. I want to help, please let me” Cody begged, squeezing your hand.

Gulping back tears and feeling like you had a rock in your throat, you stepped forward into his embrace, sinking into his chest and relaxing against him. “I love you too… I’m sorry for snapping at you. I didn’t really mean it” you apologised, burying your face into his blacks, letting the tears soak through the material.

Cody wrapped his arms around you, one around your waist keeping you against him, and the other combing through your hair. Already he could feel the tension leaking out of your exhausted body. “I know love, I know. You’re hurting at the moment and that makes people lash out. Besides, I’ve heard and felt worse. Remind me to tell you of the time Fox beat me in hand to hand training one of the days” he assured, smiling into your hair and feeling your shuddering breaths ease.

“I’ll hold you to that, Commander” you chuckled weakly before sighing and scrubbing at your tear streaked face. “I just… I don’t know why it’s so hard now. I know that you were designed for war but it just hurts to know that you’ve never had a life outside of war, and pain, and hate. Some of your brothers don’t ever get to experience the world, they’re killed before they can. And I… I can’t tell anyone because then I’ll be reassigned because I can’t take the stress and then I’d have to leave you and I-” you panicked, chest becoming tighter now with every word you said.

“Breathe. You need to breathe” Cody interrupted, pressing his lips against yours in a chaste kiss to help restart your breathing.

“I guess I got lost in my own head and began overthinking” you sighed, taking in deep breaths and holding Cody to your tighter. “I’m scared I’m going to lose you. Be it in battle or something else. I just… I- I just feel so useless, this war takes too much from us and it just got to me” you explained, shrugging helplessly against him. It was the best you could do, words becoming lost and your thoughts muddled as you tried to find a reason for the way you had been behaving this week.

“That’s okay mesh’la, whatever happens, you’ll have me. I’m not going anywhere” he assured, rubbing up and down your back. “Besides, you’re not the only one who commiserates our upbringing. The Jedi hate it too, but our lives on Kamino, don’t think it was full of hate. Yes the trainers and the long-necks were terrible to us but… we had each other. We experienced love and affection from our vods, from our batch mates. We may not have experienced the world like you wish us too, but we made do. Just… you can’t take it all on by yourself, love. These decisions and events were outside of your control” he reminded, kissing your temple.

“I’m glad you had your vode” you smiled softly, thinking about the rest of his brothers that you treated, as well as the millions that were spread out across the galaxy. It was nice to think that even if they didn’t a traditional upbringing, they at least had each other.

“Ugh, too many to know what to do with” he grunted, making you giggle. He really did sound like an exasperated older brother. But he wouldn’t change it for the world. He rested his head against yours and closed his eyes. “Thank you for caring about me and my vode. Especially when the galaxy is turning against us” he breathed, soaking in the way your breath fluttered against his face.

“Always Cody, you and your vode… you didn’t have a choice in all this and whatever happens, I’ll take care of you and your vode. I’ll fight the Senate if I have to” you vowed, making him chuckle.

“Oh I don’t doubt that cyare, I know from experience just how ferocious medics are – especially you” he teased, cupping your face and pulling away from you slightly. “But you need to be cared for and taken care of as well. Do you remember what we’ve spoken about before, when we were suggesting new things to try out together? The one about Ghost Company?” he prompted, thumb stroking across your cheek.

You froze, mind recalling that conversation perfectly. Cody and you had been discussing fantasies and kinks, determined to know more about each other and what you both liked. It had been a spur of the moment suggestion that Cody had liked as well. To be shared amongst Ghost Company while Cody took care of you. He would supervise everything while you could sink into the pleasure and not have to think about anything.

“I remember” you nodded, words falling carefully out of your mouth as you glanced up into his dark brown orbs. You wondered where exactly this was going.

“Would you feel up to it if me and the boys helped you relax and take care of you?” Cody inquired, squeezing your hip and letting you think things through. He had seen just how burnt out you had gotten recently, and he wanted to help you find relief in a number of ways. And his brothers felt the same, they’d all noticed how stressed you had gotten and wanted to help make you feel better. But it was and always would be your decision.

Honestly, the thought of Ghost Company sharing you and making you feel good excited you, and you could already feel your heart start to race at the suggestion. The men in that company was all loyal and brave men, you had close friendships with all of the officers. Would it affect the way they treated you? Would it be awkward when you all had to return back to work? Why would they want to help you out? Were they doing it just because their Marshal Commander asked it of them?

“Why would they want to do that with me?” you frowned, shaking your head at the thought. It seemed impossible to think that Ghost Company would want you.

“Mesh’la! You are an extraordinary person” Cody chided, brow furrowing at the way you spoke about yourself. “And my brothers have also noticed a change in you and were worried. I promise, they want to make you feel better, to make you feel good about yourself and help relieve some of that stress” he assured, cupping your cheek and making sure your beautiful eyes met his own. “I promise I’ll be right there if you want me to be. Nothing is going to harm you” he explained with a wry smile before he turned deadly serious. Cody never went back on his word, if he promised something then it would happen.

Kriff! This wasn’t something you could turn down. Or want to turn down for that matter. Taking the bantha by the horns, you made the decision.

“Yeah… yeah I want that. I want them to help me” you admitted, taking a deep breath in as you heard the words come out of your mouth. It was a bit surprising but also exciting at the same time. They were all incredibly attractive men. Who wouldn’t want them all to help you feel more relaxed. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” you asked, knowing you would need to check in with Cody. He had to agree to this as well.

Cody’s cheeks reddened and he looked away for a moment before turning back to you with a small, abashed grin. “Yeah, I’m good with this. I can’t wait to see how beautiful you look with my brothers” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

Chuckling at his eagerness, you wrapped your arms around his waist once more and hugged him tightly, taking in his reassuring scent and warm embrace. “And it hits your sharing kink as well” you teased, pressing a kiss to his pec.

“Ugh, I forgot I told you about that” he groaned, shaking his head as he tightened his hold of you, rocking you in his arms as he nuzzled into you. “But, we do still need to talk about what has you feeling like this, cyare. We need to get to the root of this problem” Cody reminded, feeling you stiffen slightly in his arms. It was obviously a conversation you didn’t want to have with him.

“Do we have to? I was cooking dinner” you grumbled, glancing back at the stove that was still on.

Cody shook his head, giving a tutting noise before turning it off and not allowing you to hide away from this. It was starting to affect your health and the way you were behaving. He couldn’t just ignore that. Both as your partner and as your Commanding Officer.

"Come on, let's lie down for a moment, dinner can wait" he murmured, guiding you over to your bed and pulling you down with him. He arranged you so you were lying on his chest, his hands wrapped around you as he held you close. Your head rested above his heart, the steady thrum enough to calm any of your nerves.

"You know, mesh’la, if you ever need to talk to anyone who's not me, I'm sure the General wouldn't mind listening to you. Or I can ask Helix if he knows anyone that would help" Cody suggested lightly, feeling the way you were beginning to relax into his arms. He knew from experience that it might be easier to talk to someone that you weren’t close to, or someone who had no interest in anything but your own emotions and how they related to the situation.

You pulled a face, shaking your head at the thought of talking to the General, or even Helix! No, it wasn’t something you felt like you could share with them. Not when they had so much authority to send you away. Besides, you were well aware of the benefits of therapy and talking to someone, you’d done it before. "I already tried that... I spoke to my mentor from medical school a few days ago. Asked him how he coped dealing with death everyday. Do you know what he said? Do you know what he said?” you admitted, voice breaking as you thought about your last conversation with your mentor. It had been enough to show you what a despicable person he was.

“What mesh’la? What did he say?” Cody frowned, knowing it couldn’t be anything good as he felt the way your breath hitched in your chest, the way you tensed up and the way your voice broke as you were talking.

“He said once you've cut into one clone you've cut into them all. You don't need to practice on any more” you cried, horror at hearing those words come from your mentor. He had always been someone you respected and listened to. He had been a great source of advice, but the way he viewed clones had you pulling away, disgusted with him.

“He is right about that, cyare” Cody sighed.

It wasn’t the worst thing he had ever heard about the clones, and it was fact that they all shared the same body. It was why organ donation was so easy with clones, there was an endless supply of spare parts if the medics needed them. It was awful to think about, but it was something they had always been made aware of. Even in death you still served the Republic.

“No he's not! You're all individuals! Every single one of you and... every time I lose one of your brothers... that's another individual lost. And it's my fault, I should be able to do more!" You sobbed, clutching onto his blacks as the tears began to roll down your cheeks. The immense guilt you felt that you couldn’t do more to help them was becoming overwhelming.

"Its not your fault sweetheart, it's the Seppies. You do everything you can to save my brothers and you care for them. You see us as people, other people will always see us as mindless meat droids and cannon fodder. But you have to take a step back love, I know it's painful but we lose men, brothers, but we remember them as they go marching on. And that is just as important. So if you remember them in your heart, but continue to fight for your brothers, then that is honouring them in a way they would want" Cody explained, shushing your cries as he kissed the crown if your head. His hands ran through your hair, and up and down your back. This was what you needed, the catharsis of release, to let all these emotions out.

"I-I wish I could save all of you. I wished their stupid war didn't exist and I wish we could just stay like this forever" you muttered, voice breaking as you buried your face further into his neck. You just wanted to hide from the world a little.

"Well, I'm good for one of those wishes, and I'm working on the other one, but the first one, that's impossible cyare. You have to learn to accept it some way or another" Cody smiled, holding you tight to his chest.

"I know, I'm trying it's just... it's just hard" you sighed, hiccuping a little as the tears started to dry up.

"It is. Almost as hard as taking care of yourself. Helix told me he sent you to get food and have a nap. So, how about I finish up dinner and you catch up on sleep? We're meeting the boys at 2100 if you feel up to it" Cody suggested, kissing your forehead once more before sliding you off his front and to the side.

"Okay, just make sure you don't burn it" you smiled, catching his hand as he got up. He shot you a surprised look that quickly turned into adoration as you kissed his knuckles. "Best get as much sleep as I can ready for tonight" you teased, excitement and nervous energy flashing through you.

"Everything is going to be fine, love. I'll have dinner ready for when you wake up. Not burnt either!" he added, squeezing your fingers before heading towards the little kitchenette in your rooms.

After dinner, you showered and got yourself ready to meet the rest of Ghost Company. You had no idea where you were meeting them, so you followed Cody's lead, letting him direct you to where you needed to go.

When he stopped outside of a nondescript, normal looking bunk room, you couldn't help but let out a little gasp. This was it. This was where one of your fantasies were about to become real.

Cody's hand came to grip your elbow, angling you towards him. His face was so sincere and soft that you wanted to pull him into your arms and never let go. "Are you sure about this, cyare? We don't have to do this if you don't want to. I wont be angry or upset, I just want to make sure you're feeling good" he reminded, thumb brushing against your skin.

"I'm sure, I know you'll look after me while the boys will make me feel good" you nodded, smiling at him in reassurance.

Taking a deep breath, Cody opened the door for you, letting you take the first step in before he followed behind you and locked the door.

As you stepped into the room, you were greeted by members of Ghost Company. Those that weren't on duty that is. Crys was leaning against the table, Wooley sitting on it next to him, Boil and Waxer was nearby, pressed close together and sending you heated looks. Helix meanwhile was giving you a once over, obviously checking to see if you'd followed his instructions.

"You're looking a lot better since I last saw you" Helix commented, voice all rough and brash but you could hear the concern underneath it.

"Wow, real smooth talker you are, Helix!" Wooley drawled, shaking his head at the medic.

Unable to help the small giggle that escaped you, you rolled your eyes at Helix, more than used to his behaviour. "Don't worry, I'm feeling a lot better since you set Cody on me" you assured.

Warm hands settled on your waist, and you leaned into your Commander. He nuzzled into your neck, leaving a soft peck there before he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Everyone has noticed how tense and stressed you've been recently, cyare. So they were more than happy when they got the call to come help you relax" Cody explained, glancing at his eager brothers.

You felt yourself face flush, you didn't realise that it had been so obvious to everyone that you were struggling. You thought you had hidden it rather well. But being on a ship in such close quarters, no doubt people noticed the small things and the little changes within you.

"Yeah, mesh'la. We just want to help you relax, feel good again" Waxer agreed, a playfully grin on his face. No doubt all the boys were just as excited as you with what was going to happen. But knowing your love just as well as you did, you knew that tonight had some stipulations.

“Okay, are there any rules for tonight?” you asked, turning to Cody as he pulled away to slip off his armour.

"Only a couple, mesh'la, and you can change them if you want to" he assured, unclipping everything until he was just in his blacks. The orange and white plastoid was stacked and laid in a neat pile at the edge of the room. Cody nodded at his brothers to do the same. He wanted you to be as comfortable as possible, and that meant the armour had to go.

"Let's hear them then" you breathed, as you felt butterflies in your stomach as you glanced up at Ghost company.

“Nobody is going to be using your pussy tonight mesh’la, except me. They’re all going to be using their mouths and fingers on you, and you can be as loud as you want. This room is soundproof and hardly anyone comes in” Cody explained, and the other clones surrounding you didn’t seem too surprised at those rules. They were probably informed about this before they had turned up tonight. “Is that okay with you?” he checked in, rubbing soothingly at your side.

“Yeah, that sounds good to me” you agreed, smiling up at him as he leaned forward to give you a kiss.

"Good. Just let us take care of you, cyare" he murmured, lips brushing against yours softly. His hand crept up to the back of your neck, keeping you pressed against him as he took control of the kiss. He gently licked at the crease of your mouth, and you could do nothing but let him in with a small groan. His hands kneaded your neck while his lips parted yours, pushing his tongue to slide against your own.

Cody always could make you forget everything with just his mouth. Be it through kisses, or using those talented lips and tongue to make you scream, he had an ability to make the whole world around you disappear. So when you felt hands land on your waist, your shoulders, your arms, you startled just for a moment before sinking into their touches.

Cody's large, warm hands cupped your cheeks, pressing small teasing kisses over your lips until you had to push him away for air. Panting, you rested your foreheads together as the hands worked to undress you, sliding and unbuttoning your clothes until you stood naked before them. You would have shivered from the cold air around you, but they all burned hotter than a furnace, the press of their bodies keeping you nice and toasty.

“You’ve been so stressed lately, mesh’la. You don’t even have to do anything, just be a set of holes ready and wet for us, okay?” Boil's grumpy voice murmured from your side, his hot breath caressing your neck before he pressed a kiss there.

"The boys know your safe word and your safe action if you can't speak. Ready?" Cody reminded, brushing his nose against your heated cheek.

You gave him a short hum in confirmation. You wanted this. You didn't need to be asked again.

“On your knees” Cody instructed, pecking your lips once more before guiding you with his hand in your hair down in front of him and his brothers.

“You look so pretty on your knees for us mesh’la” Waxer praised, running gentle fingers over the curve of your jaw once you had settled before them. He let out a quiet cooing noise as you rubbed against the tender gesture.

You looked around you at the impressive men that had caged you in. All of them supporting impressive tents in their blacks. You couldn't help but lick your lips, thinking about tasting them, feeling the weight of them on your tongue. Crys groaned, hand coming to press against his bulge at the sinful look crossed your face.

Calloused fingertips hooked under your chin, pulling you back around to face Cody. "Eyes on me, cyare" he ordered, thumb coming to stroke against your bottom lip before he pulled away. He quickly unfastened the bottom half of his blacks and pushed them down his hips, allowing his hard, swollen length to come out.

Your mouth watered, staring at the hard cock in front of you. He wasn't fully hard like you knew he could be, but he was already leaking some pre-cum from the head and you knew he would be a challenge to take when he was hard as rock. You couldn't wait to feel that in your mouth, to wrap your lips around the head and suck him down.

"Go on, cyare. You know what to do" Cody instructed, gripping his base to keep it steady.

Finally, with his permission, you took his head in your mouth, sucking on it strongly before trying to sink further onto him and gagging slightly.

"Whoa, look how hungry she is for the Commander's cock" Wooley- you were sure it was Wooley—muttered in awe.

However, a hand wrapped itself in your hair and pulled you off him. Cody tutted, shaking his head as you whined up at him. "You know better than that, cyare. Take me properly" he rebuked, before letting go of your hair.

Pouting, you knew he was right. Normally you took your time in taking Cody into your mouth, made it a show and built his pleasure. Not rush it, unable to wait.

Raising your hands to his thighs, you shuffled forward, kitten licking at his slit before ducking to lick a long, heated swipe from his balls all the way up to his tip. Hearing the answering groan, you did it again, making sure to swirl your tongue around his head for a moment. You continued to lick him teasingly, sometimes sucking his tip and lapping up his juices.

"That's a good girl. That's better, cyare" Cody moaned, eyes sliding shut as his hand tangled into your hair. He never pulled or tried to guide you, just keeping the weighted reminder on the back of your head, keeping you connected to him. "I know, you've been rushing, having to get things done quickly. Working so hard, but I don't want that. Want you to take your time, enjoy this cyare" Cody continued, knowing his words would sink deep into your brain.

The grip on his thighs tightened, as you let out a small whine, not wanting to think about what had led up to this. All you wanted to do was focus on Cody, on making him feel good and feeling how good it was to just not have to worry about anything.

"Shh, you're alright, ad'ika. Don't have to think of anything right now" Helix assured, hand trailing along your shoulders.

Closing your eyes, you took Cody deeper into your mouth, struggling slightly as he bumped the back of your throat. Squeezing your thumb, you took calming breaths in through your nose before finally sinking all the way down on him. With watery eyes, you looked up to meet Cody's gaze, knowing he enjoyed it. You hoped he was able to read what you wanted in your eyes as well.

Cody frowned, brow furrowed for a moment before he smiled and nodded. "Alright cyare, I know, I know what you need" he assured before pulling away from your delicious mouth. He allowed you to take a deep breath before he was pushing back in, hand that was resting on your head becoming firmer and pushing you down onto his length with every buck of his hips.

Groaning, you allowed Cody to use your mouth, making sure to drag your tongue against the underside of his cock with every thrust. Already you could feel slick dampen your core, and the urge to touch yourself there grew.

"Kriff! She's so hot" Waxer cursed from above you.

Tears brimming your eyes, you dragged your nails down Cody's thigh, hearing and feeling how you affected him. The loud moan that he let out and the way his hips stuttered in their pace had you feeling very proud of yourself. Wanting to have his cum flood your mouth, you cupped his balls, beginning to gently massage them in your hands.

However, Cody quickly pulled you off him, panting heavily as he tried to steady himself once more.

"Having trouble there, Commander?" Boil smirked at his brother.

"Shut up vod! You would be too if you felt this mouth around you" Cody grumbled, before dragging his thumb over your swollen lips.

Instantly you took it into your mouth, showing him what he was missing.

"Want you to have my brother's first, cyare. Be good for them, let them take care of you" Cody told you, leaning down to brush your lips against his. It only lasted a second before he was stepping away and allowing his brothers to take over.

"Hey ad'ika, need to move you for a second, okay?" Helix informed you, scooping you up under your arms and pulling you to your feet.

Wooley and Boil laid out a thin mattress from the corner of the room and laid a few pillows down on it, trying to make it more comfortable for you.

"How do you want her?" Waxer asked, coming to your left side while Crys came to your right. They took you out of Helix's arms before taking over supporting you between them. Their arms wrapped around your waist and Crys was already pressing kisses along your jaw. Sighing, you couldn't help but tilt your head back, giving him more skin to kiss.

"I want her sitting on my face. You can do whatever you want, but I want to taste her" Helix instructed the others.

His words made you groan, imagining the clone eating you out and feasting on you. He was your boss. How would you ever look him in the face again knowing his had been buried deep in your cunt?

"Come on ad'ika" Helix muttered, voice reassuring and gentle as he saw the look on your face. He laid down on the mattress and reached out a hand for you to take.

Of course it would be fine. Helix was one of your closest friends. He looked after you and cared for you. This was just one way of doing that. So, stepping forward onto the mattress, you took his hand and let him guide you above him.

Looking down at him, you couldn't help but bite your lip, worried about suffocating him as you sat on his face. How would he breathe?

"Are you sure? What if I hurt you?" you worried, squeezing the hand that was in yours.

Helix huffed, shooting Cody a dark look as he stood in the corner. "I'm disappointed in you vod, I would have thought you showed her how impossible that is" he chided the Commander.

Cody rolled his eyes, but sent you a warm smile. "I have, multiple times. That's a concern coming from elsewhere" he grumbled before turning to you. "I promise sweetheart, he wants you to sit on him. He'd prefer to go out that way, bit of a sadist really" he teased, making you giggle.

"Yeah, no kidding! His hypos are excruciating!" Waxer mumbled to Boil, rubbing his neck where he had gotten stabbed by Helix the last time.

"Alright, I trust you" you grinned, excitement and happiness curling in your heart in equal measure. You lowered yourself until you were hovering over him.

"I said sit, ad'ika" Helix ordered, hands landing on your waist and tugging you down.

You gasped as his lips instantly attached to your folds, sucking the slick from them with a pleased moan. Fuck, your thoughts fizzled out as Helix pressed his wide tongue between your lips, gathering as much of you on his tongue as possible. He pressed against your entrance, circling it before pushing in.

"Helix!"

A rumble echoed beneath you and you clutched on tight to Helix's long hair, needing an anchor as he began to eat you out. His large hands stretched over your thighs, keeping you in place as he began to push further into your cunt, tip of his tongue teasing your tightening walls.

Closing your eyes, you tilted your head back, hair brushing against your shoulders as your breathing stuttered and became heavier. Unconsciously you began to rock your hips into Helix's talented mouth, panting as Helix pulled you into him. You could hear every wet, swipe of his tongue. The squelch of your juices being devoured by him and the soft groans he was letting out at the taste of you.

Warm fingers dancing along your jaw caught your attention, and you straightened up and opened your eyes to see Crys standing in front of you, his hard cock bobbing in front of him. You couldn't take your eyes off his length, how it was already leaking pre-cum and seemed to be an angry rouge colour.

"Think you can take me in your mouth, sweetheart?" Crys wondered, fingers continuing to stroke along your jaw and down your neck.

Leaning into the soft gesture, you knew he would accept whatever answer you gave him. Luckily for him you really, really wanted to put your mouth on him. Nodding your head, you rested a hand on his hip, steadying yourself against him while you continued to rut against Helix's mouth.

Licking a stripe up from the base of his cock to the tip, you wondered if they all liked their cocks sucked as Cody did. Slowly you began to tease at his head, trying to learn what the technical specialist liked, circling the tip before taking it into your mouth. Cody liked you going slow on him, building his pleasure and teasing him but it seemed Crys didn't. A hand tangled in your hair, guiding you to take him further into your mouth.

You groaned around him, eyes fluttering shut as you clenched down on the tongue inside of you. Helix pulled away from you, taking your folds into his mouth and suckling lightly on them while you adjusted to Crys' length. Letting yourself sink further down on Crys, you tightened your grip on his hip before he was pulling you off him.

"Good girl, took me so well. I'm going to fuck your mouth, okay? If it gets too much, tap me twice and I'll stop" Crys instructed, brushing a few strands of hair out of your face.

"Kay" you mumbled, voice already sounding strained from the use of Cody and him.

Crys sent you a grin before he guided you back down his hard cock, your soft exhales through your nose tickling the curls at the base.

As Crys found his rhythm, thrusting his cock inside your waiting mouth, Helix continued to work you open, his tongue flicking up to the bundle of nerves. It had you bucking into him, warmth flooding you at the way he was teasing your clit. Every thought vanished from your head, only focusing on how good it felt to have Helix eating you out and Crys fucking your mouth. All you had to do was take what they gave you, they would look after you. They'd make sure you forgot everything except them.

As you moaned around the length in your mouth, Helix enclosed his lips around your clit, sucking it harshly and having your cries muffled by Crys.

"Damn, whatever you just did, do it again. She really liked that!" Crys hissed out, the vibrations around his cock pushing him closer and closer to his finish.

Helix wasted no time, sucking your bundle of nerves harshly while his hands kept you secure to him. He allowed you to rock and buck against his mouth, but he wouldn't let you move far from him.

Your peak was rising, the ministrations of both clones pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your moans were muffled by Crys, who continued to fuck into you, pace faltering as he neared his own edge.

"Shit! Oh shit sweetheart!" he hissed, throwing his head back as he pushed you all the way down onto his cock, your throat quivering around him as he found his release. He shot his thick load down your throat, and you swallowed it down with no complaint, earning another broken moan from the blonde clone as he pulled away to look you over.

"So beautiful, sweetheart. Did so well" he praised, brushing the few tears that had collected on your waterline. "Think you can cum on Helix's face now? I think he's so close he's going to blow" Crys whispered, caressing and stroking your cheeks as he shot his brother a teasing look.

Helix swore at his brother before plunging his tongue back into your soaked entrance, determined to push as deep as possible into you.

Your back arched, a broken cry leaving your lips as Helix wrapped his lips around you tightly and sucked. Tugging at his long hair, you couldn't help but feel your release wash over you as he continued to tease you with his tongue, drinking down the juices that erupted around him. Quivering at the powerful orgasm, you nearly missed the hot spurts that hit your ass. Realising what happened, you shuddered even more when you realised that Helix had come untouched and had painted your skin with his release.

Whimpering, you pushed his mouth away from you and rolled off him, panting heavily as you lay there, coming down from your high.

Sweet, gentle hands lifted your head and placed it onto a thick thigh. "My perfect, wonderful cyare. So beautiful. You did brilliant, love" Cody whispered his praises into your hair, bending down over you and laying kisses over your cheeks and head.

Sighing, you sunk into his reassuring touches and loving words, feeling them soothe you and bring your mind into a warm, heady cloud. Cody loved you so much, he was so pleased with you already and still there was more men to have you. Everything felt so right and comfortable that you almost missed Cody pressing something to your lips.

Blinking wide eyes at him, he sent you an adoring smile as he sat you up more and pressed the water canteen to your lips once again. The cool water did wonders for your throat and brought you back from that delightful and safe headspace that you had sunk into.

"That's it cyare, got to make sure you keep hydrated. Otherwise Helix will kill me" Cody chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple as you drank.

When you had your fill, you pushed the canteen away and Cody passed it off to someone else. He held you close on his lap, brushing warm circles on your back as he took you in. "Do you want to continue, cyare?" He checked in, giving your knee a quick squeeze.

You wanted nothing more than to continue. Helix and Crys had already made you feel amazing, your orgasm still making you feel small aftershocks of pleasure. Why wouldn't you want to continue with the rest of the troopers? Nodding eagerly, Cody chuckled, giving you a chaste kiss before helping you to lie-down once more on the mattress. He transferred your head onto someone else's lap.

Looking up into heated, brown eyes, you smiled at the moustached man who was gazing at you softly.

"Hey, verd'ika" he murmured, fingers brushing through your hair and massaging your scalp.

Sighing and relaxing further into him, you almost purred at the amazing way that simple touch had you feeling loose and ready for more.

"Its mine and Wax's turn, you ready for us?" he asked, watching as a wide beam spread across your face.

"Yeah... I'm ready for you both" you assured, eyes flickering down the length of your body as you felt the mattress dip by your feet.

Waxer returned it with an easy but excited grin of his own before sliding his hands up and down your calves, going higher each time. "I really want to taste you, mesh'la. From the sounds of my brothers, you must taste divine" Waxer complimented, settling his broad frame in between your legs.

Blushing at his words, you couldn't help but nuzzle into Boil's hand. To have such beautiful, kind men eager to be with you had your heart soaring and filling with love for the troopers around you. "And I want this mouth. Had Crys and the Commander shaking like a tooka afterwards" Boil chuckled, running his thumb over your lips.

"Kriff off Boil, just wait until you have her mouth on your cock!" Crys retorted, huffing at his vod's teasing.

"Good idea vod, knew you'd have one eventually" Boil smirked, lifting his hips slightly to push his blacks down enough for his cock to bounce out. "Open up, mesh'la" he ordered, gripping the base of his cock. As soon as you opened your mouth for him, ready to take his length into your wet heat, he pushed the tip of his cock to rest against your tongue but moved no further.

Whining, you tried to push forward, bury more of his throbbing, weighted length into your mouth but he just tutted, pulling you back. "Just like this for now, verd'ika. I want you to just hold me in your mouth like this" Boil told you, running soothing hands up and down your arms and shoulders.

"That's it mesh’la, you keep him warm in your mouth while I get to work" Waxer beamed, pressing a little nip to your inner thigh before soothing it with a swipe of his tongue.

The little yelp died in your throat at the way Waxer contrasted the harsh sting with the soft glide of his tongue. He continued to rain small kisses and little nips up your thighs before he reached the apex.

"You're gorgeous! No wonder the Commander likes to keep you to himself" Waxer breathed, brushing his nose along the crease of your thigh.

Sighing around the cock in your mouth, you reached for Waxer, brushing against his smooth head to try and encourage him to move to where you really needed him.

"I know, i know mesh’la, you just look so amazing" Waxer chuckled, his hands gripping your thighs and throwing them over his shoulders. His warm breath caressed along your swollen, wet heat, causing your nipples to harden even further.

A hand entwined in your own, and you looked up with heated eyes to see Boil's hand curled in yours, giving you something to squeeze and hold beside Waxer. As a reward, you gave a light suck to his tip and Boil let out a muffled curse.

"Get on with it Wax, she's starting to get impatient" Boil grumbled, flicking his brother's ear.

Waxer flinched away but did spread your folds open with his thumb, leaving your bare to his face before he licked a long, broad stripe from your entrance all the way to your clit. He circled the little swollen bud before returning to your entrance to do the same.

Letting out a groan, you slid your eyes closed, losing yourself to their touches and the way they held you still against them. Just giving you pleasure without having to do anything in return. Whining, you squeezed Boil's hands as your thighs trembled along Waxer's shoulders. The weight against your tongue was also keeping you distracted, because you wanted nothing more to take Boil further into your mouth, have his cock brush against your throat until you had tears streaming down your cheeks.

Keeping you spread for him, Waxer's tongue delved into your sweet hole, enjoying the way your walls shook and fluttered around his penetrative tongue, almost like you were drawing him further into you. He groaned at the thought, pressing closer into you and spreading your thighs wider around his head.

Dragging your hand down from his head to his powerful shoulders, your dug your nails into his blacks, groaning around Boil as his brother seemed to want to swallow you whole. The coil in tour stomach began to tighten as Waxer pulled away to nibble on your folds before taking them into his mouth and soothing them with his talented lips.

Boil brought your attentions back to him with a slight tug on the roots of your hair. He brushed his thumb over the apple of your cheeks before slowly beginning to push his cock across your tongue. Just as he brushed the back of your throat, he pulled back once more until the tip was just resting on your tongue.

Growling a little as you realised he was teasing you, setting a slow and controlled pace, you tried to lift your head to swallow him down completely but he just chuckled and pulled you off him.

"No, I want it like this" he said firmly, smirking at the whine that you let out and the pout that formed on your face. "Not used to getting told no, verd'ika? The Commander spoils you. I'll fuck this beautiful mouth how I want, don't worry we'll get you there, just have to be good for us, think you can do that?" Boil's stern but teasing voice filled your ears.

Fine, you would let him set the pace. And you weren't spoiled, Cody just loved to see the smile spread over your face and to know he was the one that caused that. Letting out a huff, you nodded, but quickly accepted the kiss that Boil pressed to the corner of your lips.

Straightening up, Boil pushed his cock back into your talented mouth, rocking in slowly and steady just to drive you mad.

It was such a contrast to what Waxer was doing between your legs though. The Lieutenant was running his tongue in small circles around your clit, never touching it but teasing you all the same. You could feel slick leaking down onto the bed, as he kept you open, thumbs hooking your folds apart. It left you feeling so exposed and you couldn't help but buck and press your hips into his mouth.

"Waxer!" you cried, pulling away from Boil when his vod finally flicked his tongue over your clit. Pleasure raced along your body, especially when Boil gave one of your nipples a sharp tweak. Panting heavily, you clenched around nothing, wanting to be filled as Waxer took your clit into his mouth. He alternated his sucks, keeping them light and then harsh, always having you writhe underneath him as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

Letting out a sob, you tugged on Boil's hand and Waxer's head, wanting them closer, wanting more and more.

Chuckling against you, Waxer began flicking your clit in fast motions, determined to push you over into another orgasm. He didn't have to wait long as you cried out, back arching from the mattress as you came hard. He groaned, collecting your release on his tongue, tasting your sweet nectar as you shook around him, thighs quivering and small sobs escaping your lips as white hot pleasure washed through you in waves.

As you became oversensitive to the sweeps of his tongue, you pushed Waxer away, panting heavily against Boil's thigh. Waxer got onto his knees before you and you couldn't help but watch, eyes unable to move as Waxer quickly fisted his aching cock, pumping himself a few more times before he shot his release all over your stomach.

The warmth that landed on your stomach had you letting out a small moan, enjoying the way that the Lieutenant had painted you with his cum. It left you feeling marked, possessed in a good way. Like you belonged with them.

"Commander... can I try something different?" Wooley's voice interrupted your bliss, pulling your attention to the pair of troopers leaning against the wall.

Cody frowned, taking in his vod'ika's nervous behaviour and eager eyes. Glancing at you, he saw you were curious at his words as well. What did he want to try with you?

"You know the rules, Wooley" he warned, raising an eyebrow at his younger brother.

"I know sir, i just wanted... er to... to eat out her ass, sir" Wooley admitted, his cheeks reddening at the look Cody shot him as well as the wolf whistles of his brothers.

You felt heat flash through you at his words. It was something you hadn't even thought about happening tonight. But that didn't mean you didn't want to have Wooley's mouth on you, exploring your furled entrance.

Raising your eyes to meet Cody's, you could see that he was checking in with you. Wanting to make sure it was something you wanted to do tonight. It had been something you had explored with him before, but not something you had thought would happen in a session like this. Giving him a nod and a small smile, you reassured him that Wooley's request was okay.

Cody turned back to his brother with a hard look, wanting to tease him just a little. "Fine, same safe words and actions apply. Check in with her as well" Cody instructed, giving him permission.

"Wait! That's not fair, I didn't know that was allowed!" Waxer cried out, looking between his baby brother and you. Wooley shot him a smug look as he passed him.

"Careful Commander, your favouritism is showing" Helix smirked, leaning back against the table to watch.

"It’s not my fault that you lot wasn't creative enough to ask about this" Cody shrugged, used to the (well founded) accusations of favouritism of Ghost's youngest member.

Giggling at their complaints, you welcomed Wooley onto the mattress, taking his large hand in yours. "Hi" you greeted, smiling sweetly at the way Wooley blushed a little more at you.

"Hi" he echoed back, settling between your thighs, "you sure this is okay?"

"Hmm, more than okay" you assured him once more, squeezing his fingers as well.

"How do you want her, vod?" Boil asked, stroking along your jaw.

"Just like this. You two seem too comfortable to move" he answered, settling himself down in between your legs.

Your breath became a little heavier as Wooley pressed a kiss to your hip before his large hands slid underneath you to cup your butt and lift it up to his face. "Oh!" a startled yelp left you as your hips was lifted from the mattress, supported by the large, strong trooper.

"Like being picked up, verd'ika?" Boil grinned, stroking your cheek before returning his leaking cock to your mouth before you could even think of a retort.

It seemed that Boil was just as eager for this part of the night as well, as his pace increased slightly. Still controlled but not nearly as slow and careful as he was before. You wrapped an arm around his waist, pressing against him as much as possible as you sucked around his length.

A hot breath fanned against your forbidden entrance and it had your muscles clenching in Wooley's hands. Your heels dug into his back, ready to feel the fist touch of Wooley against you. Fortunately, you didn't have to wait long, as Wooley lightly pressed his tongue against your ass, trailed around it a few times before pulling away, not breaching you just yet.

Digging your nails into Boil's hip, you couldn't even rock forward suspended as you were between the two troopers. All you wanted was for Wooley to touch you again. "Please" you begged, as Boil's hips pulled away from you. It had the younger trooper groaning before he licked your clenched hole with slightly more pressure.

"Hmm, she sounds so cute when she's begging" Crys admired, watching the way your body shook slightly at his vod's touches and his praise.

"Relax, cyare, just let go" Cody added, noticing the tension in your body as you tried to keep from feeling too much and having this be over too soon.

Closing your eyes, you sunk into the feeling of Boil rocking his cock in and out of you while Wooley teased your furled hole. Finally you felt him push into you, stretching you around his tongue. The tight ring of muscle clenched around his venturing tongue, sending shock waves of pleasure through you, settling just behind your clit.

He lathered your opening with his saliva, making you nice and wet for him. You could feel him run his tongue along your tight muscles, coaxing you to relax and open up more for him. Wooley must have felt you relaxing around him because he groaned, the vibrations echoing through you and sending sparks up your spine.

"Fuck, sweetheart!" Boil cursed, pushing his cock further into your mouth and tugging at your hair. The vibrations that was surrounding his cock was making it difficult not to cum right then and there.

Moaning, your hand slipped between you, cupping his balls in your hand and gently squeezing and pulling at them. Your lips stretched around his thick length, running your tongue along the throbbing vein on the underside of his shaft.

"Kriff!" Boil hissed, eyes slamming shut as he thrust roughly into you as he came, pressing you down until your nose brushed against the wiry curls at the base of his cock.

Panting, you pulled away from him, sending the trooper a pleased, smug look as he almost looked deliriously at you, bliss written all over his face.

"Good girl, verd'ika" Boil gasped out, patting your head a few times before slipping out from beneath you.

Wookey squeezed your ass tight at the shift in position, keeping you secure against his mouth as his tongue devoured you. He pulled away slightly, spreading your cheeks wider before spitting on your puckered hole.

A cry left your lips at the feel of his wet, hot saliva trailing over your hole and down onto the mattress. It was something filthy and dirty and you wanted more of it. "Fuck, please! Please Wooley!" you cried, trying to writhe in his grasp but it was no use, he held you so tight.

The thick muscle returned to your ass, pushing as far in as Wooley could as he continued to squeeze and massage your ass cheeks. You reached down, hands gripping onto his Mohawk and no doubt ruining the gelled hair. Flicking his tongue over the rim resulting in another harsh tug before you felt your core tighten once more. You wouldn't be surprised if your arousal was leaking from you and dripping down your crack if it wasn't for the position that Wooley had you in.

But you wanted release, you were so close, all of them having worked you up and pushed you over the edge. You wanted it again. You wanted to cum again because it was too much.

"Cody, please!" you begged, turning watery eyes to your commander. However they didn't remain there long as they rolled into your head when Wooley grazed his teeth over your rim before suckling on it gently. You let out a loud cry, thighs trembling around Wooley's ears.

"Shh, I've got you cyare. I know, he's treating you so well, isn't he?" Cody cooed to you, brushing away your tears as you clutched onto his arm. You panted, nodding against him and bucking into Wooley's mouth, stomach fluttering as Wooley continued to devoured you. You just needed more and you knew you would cum. You just needed something to push you over the edge.

Digging your nails into Cody's arm, he locked his lips with yours, swallowing your cries as he brought his fingers to your clit, drenched in all your previous releases and arousal. He pinched the swollen bud lightly before circling it in quick, light touches that had you sobbing into his mouth.

Wooley moaned around you as he felt you walls clench and flutter around his tongue. He buried his face deeper inside of you, feeling his own cock throb at the sounds you were making.

"Cum for us, cyare" Cody demanded, keeping his firm pressure as he rubbed your clit.

The words and feel of both Wooley feasting on your ass and Cody playing with your clit had you falling over the edge, your muffled scream caught by Cody as your whole body tensed and went rigid before sinking back into their touches, as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. Your whole body felt boneless as they pulled away from you, leaving you feeling oversensitive and exhausted.

Distantly you felt two spurts of cum land on you, one on your lower stomach that must be from Wooley and the other on your breasts, the other source must be Cody. They panted, resting against you as you all struggled to catch your breath.

After a few moments, warm arms brought you into a broad chest and you looked up into the scarred face of your Cody. He had an exhausted smile on his face as he held you protectively in his arms. Brushing the sweat stroked stands from your face, he kissed your forehead.

"Feeling better, cyare?" Cody asked, hands running lightly up and down your back and along your thighs.

Humming, you gave him a tired smile and leant your head against his chest, listening to the dull thud of his racing heart as it slowed down to normal pace. You felt amazing, your body too tired to be tense and your mind wonderfully quiet for the first time in a long while.

"Let's get you cleaned up, the others can sort this out" Cody murmured, nuzzling into your hair.

"Come on you two, here's some water and food Commander. Make sure she has some. We'll clean the bedding and get everything sorted" Helix said firmly, helping you both up onto your feet. He kept a steady grip on you until he was assured your legs wouldn't give out.

As Cody took whatever supplies he was given from the medic, you turned to check on Wooley, to make sure he was okay after he had finished on you as well. But you didn't need to worry. Waxer was already coaxing his brother to take some water from the canteen, while Boil washed him down with a wet cloth. It always warmed your heart how much the clones looked after each other.

Your attention was drawn back to Cody, as he led you to a quiet spot and handed you a ration bar. He saw your grimace and chuckled, before pouring some water onto a cloth.

"Eat that cyare, while I wash you up. The boys really got you good" Cody said, pride shining in his voice at the sight of you covered in his and his brothers' cum. It set something primal off in him knowing that you were marked as his. That you belonged with him and the 212th.

Rolling your eyes, you nibbled on the flavourless bar, once again wondering how they could even eat this rubbish on the field. But you let Cody clean you up from their spend, gentle strokes along your chest, stomach and back, making sure that you were all clean. He gave himself a quick clean before throwing the cloth onto a pile of them, ready to be disposed of later.

"Come on love" he encouraged, taking your hand and leading you back over to the mattress. Only this time it was piled high with blankets and pillows, as well as the rest of the clones already getting comfortable in a cuddle pile.

Beaming, you pulled a spare blanket around you before sinking into the middle of the pile. Cody followed after you, getting complaints as he pushed his brothers over so he could lie next to you. Giggling, you welcomed being pulled into Cody's arms as all the rest of his vode pressed around you.

"Get some sleep, cyare. You've more than earned it" Cody whispered, kissing your head and holding you tight.

And in his arms, you had never felt safer. Surrounded by the heat and bodies of his brothers, you knew that whatever happened, you would always have Cody and his brothers. You weren't fighting this war alone.

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