#but in a good honky way

[mrsoharaa]

I feel like eye contact with Ghost would be TOO intimidating yet extremely intimate.

[sarcasmic-skies]

the plink-plonk of honky tonk piano + the wahhh-wahh-wahhh of honky tonk steel guitar + the bah-bah-ba-daaahhh of honky tonk fiddle + the drawling, lamenting tennessee or texas accents of honky tonk vocals = everything to me

[qveerthe0ry]

Conquer the Heart

Summary: Joel comes out - written for @romanarose Pride Event Week 1: Coming Out Word Count: 3,981 Pairing: Joel Miller x M! Reader Rating: Mature (but my blog is 18+ mdni) Warnings: vague descriptions of sex, fluff, kissing, conversations about sexuality, really that's it this is pretty much just sweet and fluffy with a tiny hint of spice Betas: @for-a-longlongtime and @perotovar who could have guessed? Love y'all <3 A/N: I just wanted to make Joel queer idk. Title from an Orville Peck song because of course

You don’t know what possessed you to pay the $5 cover to check that place out. The Round-Up Saloon, perched on a street corner in downtown Austin. The outside was unassuming enough, but the neon lights and mechanical bull and rotating dance floor inside made it look like something straight out of Urban Cowboy. 

There were all kinds of crowds. College kids and business casuals and actual cowboys. And it’s Austin, so all the sexualities were represented in one way or another as you took note of the couples at tables and on the dance floor. You couldn’t really care about any of them, though, as soon as you laid eyes on him. 

You were drawn to him and his broad shoulders and tight Wrangler blue jeans. 

He was with a big group of women and men, all drinking and laughing and taking turns line-dancing with each other on the dance floor. 

And to think you only stumbled into the honky tonk cowboy bar out of curiosity… It certainly wasn’t your scene. 

But you’d watched Joel dance with a few women with respectful hand placement, and then he danced with a man, and hope had bubbled up inside of you to the sound of Alan Jackson. 

He was a little sweaty when you worked up the courage to talk to him, and his cologne masked all the alcohol and cigarettes in the air.

You plastered on a flirty smile and asked him if he could teach you some of his moves. When he looked taken aback and flustered, you backtracked. 

“I’m sorry, I saw you dancing with that guy— I didn’t mean to assume.” 

“Tommy? That’s my brother,” he’d explained, a little flushed in the face. 

“Oh! Shit, sorry, ignore me.”

But he’d caught your arm as you turned to hibernate for approximately 5-10 business days. 

“I don’t see no harm in teachin’ you.”

And so he did. And it was fun, and his hands on you were so warm you swear they branded his mark all over your skin. 

A few songs, all background noise to the ‘he’s just straight, don’t do this’ mantra in your head, and he was leading you off the dance floor for another beer. 

A friendly beer. Surely that’s all it was. 

But he was so friendly. He gave you pointers on how to dance, and then asked if you’re from around here, and then he was waving off his group of friends when they all announced their departure. 

He asked you about your job, and you asked about his, and then the way his hands felt rough on the skin of your arm made more sense. 

Maybe you were crazy, or the two beers you had were really getting to your head, but there was something so unspeakably electric between you. You felt it when he’d lean in closer to hear you, the way he touched your arm with the back of his bottle-filled fist, the way his hoppy breath ghosted across your cheek to reach your ear.

And then he said he should probably get home, and asked if he should walk you to your car, and maybe he wasn’t straight, you thought, as he briefly placed his hand on your back to guide you through the packed bar. 

And you really, really shouldn’t have. But you asked for his number, and he put it in your shitty flip phone, and then you kissed him. 

Right on the mouth. A quick peck that was so short you could’ve nearly pretended it was an accident. 

He looked so stunned, and guilt boiled up in your stomach. 

But he’d grabbed your wrist gently, and looked you in the eyes. 

“I’m uh… I don’t… I haven’t ever done that.” 

“That was your first kiss?” 

It was a joke, and thank god he laughed. His smile looked so fucking good under the shitty, flickering street lamps. 

“Call me, okay?” 

And then he was gone. You thought about him the whole drive home, while you got undressed and ready for bed, as you fell asleep. You felt his touch in your dreams, and when you woke in the morning you could hardly believe he was real. 

But his phone number was burning a hole in your cell phone. You stared at it on and off all Saturday long. What would you even say? Why did he even want you to call him, if he’d never even kissed a guy before? Did he just want a new drinking buddy? 

The dread built up all day long, until it was late, and a sense of now or never goaded you into calling his number. 

He answered, and you told him who you were, and he’d sounded so surprised to hear from you. He didn’t think you’d want to see him again, after he embarrassed himself, and his admission made you balk. 

You told him you were the one who felt embarrassed. He laughed at that. Said he’s a lot smoother with ladies, but you made him feel nervous. He said he wanted to meet up again. 

And so you did. 

Just a shitty diner for an early dinner on Sunday, unassuming enough. The chemistry you felt at the bar hadn’t faded. If anything, it was so much more apparent now. The way he blushed when you flirted seemed less like the bad kind of gay panic. His foot kept nudging yours under the table. 

He walked you to your car again, and then he kissed you, much less chaste than the night at the bar, with one big, rough hand on your neck and the other on your hip. 

“That was pretty good for only your second kiss,” you’d said. 

He shrugged, a sheepish smile gracing his heated face.

“Should stick around and find out about the third.” 

And if you hadn’t already been wrapped around his finger, he certainly secured the spot for you then.

He wasn’t new to dating, but he was new to this, and it showed. He got pretty easily flustered around you. On your second date, he brought up his daughter for the first time like he’d forgotten he hadn’t mentioned her before. A casual thing, talking about her getting ready to graduate high school. 

“Does Sarah know… who you’re on a date with?”

Joel shook his head. 

“Not yet. No one does… Not even sure how to explain it to myself, if I’m honest.”

You were patient with him. It’s gotta be culture shock, living nearly 40 years of your life completely straight and having some random guy at a bar change that for you overnight. 

You took things slow. You talked a lot over the phone, after Sarah went to sleep. He told you about his dating history, Sarah’s mom and only a few unserious flings after. You tried not to psychoanalyze him, but it makes a little bit of sense. Getting some girl pregnant at 19, marrying her, getting ditched with a toddler and a curt ‘good luck’ and then raising her on your own? 

No wonder he never questioned his sexuality. There was genuinely no time to. 

At first, you thought you may just be a stepping stone. A news flash for him, an experiment, something fun for a season. It didn’t bother you. It’s happened before. But as your nightly talks got longer, and as you took each other out more and more often, it became clear that it wasn’t like that. 

You watched with fascination and adoration as Joel figured things out. It was so endearing when he asked if he should hold the door open for you, or if you should take turns. Likewise, when he held your hand in public for the first time, the way he asked your permission made your heart grow way too big for your rib cage.

Things weren’t perfect, of course, but nothing ever is. You didn’t get to see him as much as you ideally would. You were both busy during the work week, and he often had father duties on the weekends. Most of your dates were quick dinner bites when Sarah had a school thing, or an odd Saturday here or there when Sarah had a sleepover. 

But that was quite enough for you. You weren’t even looking for something when you’d met him. You didn’t feel the need to move quickly when you hadn’t planned on going anywhere in the first place. 

And he was sweet, and quite self-aware. 

“Wish we could spend more time together,” he’d tell you over the phone, “I know this ain’t the way things normally go.” 

But you liked him. So much. So it didn’t bother you.

And, as the weeks passed by, he opened up more. He started asking you more pointed questions, like how you came out to those closest to, and what it was like. He asked if you were seeing other people— it’s okay if you are, was just wonderin’— and then he asked you if you wanted to be together when you made it clear you weren’t. 

“Like… as boyfriend and boyfriend?” 

He chuckled, the deep gravel a familiar tone swimming through your landline with a nervous twinge to it. 

“Yeah, as boyfriend and boyfriend.” 

And he treated you right, and you got along with him so well, and he was so put together and responsible and respectful. 

“I’d really like to be your boyfriend.” 

And his breath had hitched so loud it was caught by the receiver, but you could hear the smile in his voice when he told you that he’d really like that, too. 

A few days after that, he told you Sarah would be gone all weekend, on a team trip for some hiking and kayaking and bonding. 

“Could I stay at yours? I hate to invite myself, it’s just— Tommy’s got no boundaries. Wouldn’t want him bargin’ in, y’know, before I get to tell him.” 

You didn’t mind one bit, aside from the mountain of laundry you had to fold in preparation for his arrival. 

It was the first time you’d been truly alone with him. Your dates were always public, at least somewhat. And he’d kissed you, a ton, but that’s as far as it had ever gone. 

You definitely wanted him. You’d wanted him since the very second you laid eyes on him at that cheesy honky tonk bar. But it was funny how nervous you were, even though your experience with men put Joel’s to shame. 

It was a lot like high school, in the way you danced around each other at first. A movie on your couch, with his arm draped along the back of it. Readjusting to ‘get comfy,’ inching, until the warmth of his body was pressed against yours and his arm dropped from the back of the couch to your shoulders. 

His heartbeat was deafening, hard and fast, when you’d tucked your head against his chest. You moved your hand to his knee in the world’s most intense match of The Nervous Game and feared for his cardiovascular health. 

He said your name, and like it was the magic word, every single facade crumbled around you in an instant. 

His kisses made your head spin, and the way his thick thighs felt under your own was addictive, and it was over before either of you realized it had started. Two sets of soiled pants and underwear thrown into your washing machine, along with the last of the pretenses. And then you’d dragged him to your bed. 

The sex wasn’t even your favorite part. The best was the morning after, and how you were plastered to his back as you woke up slow and easy. The way he held your arm to his stomach, even in his sleep. And the way you only got out of bed for food or bathroom breaks, a whole day with him, alone, uninterrupted. 

Just as you started to worry that this was a one-time thing, at least for a while, Joel huffed beside you and nuzzled his head into your shoulder. 

“I wanna come out. At least to Tommy ‘n Sarah. S’not right, keeping you a secret like this when you’ve been makin’ me so happy. I know you’d make them happy too.” 

You stroked his hair, and asked if he was sure, and though his pretty brown eyes looked wide and scared, his jaw was set with a determined nod. 

So you devised a plan. Or— Joel devised it, and asked for your input, and it all made you a bit giddy. 

He had you over for dinner. Just as a friend, at first. He’d ordered pizza and stocked beer and told Tommy and Sarah he was having a friend over. 

You wondered if Tommy would recognize you from the bar, but if he did, he didn’t show it. He just talked your ear off about Texas sports and old cars.

Sarah was… well, you understood why Joel could never seem to smile wide enough when he talked about her. She was so smart, and kind-hearted, and funny. You had a hard time keeping up, but the way Joel and Tommy were around her, you think she probably has that effect on most people. 

It was a nice night, fun and easy conversation, good pizza, and a very competitive game of Boggle in which Sarah dominated. 

And it was only a little bit difficult to spend the evening as just Joel’s friend, solely because of how easily you fit into his life. You wanted to scream it from the rooftops, that Joel wanted you to be a piece in his puzzle. 

Sarah, so politely, excused herself to go to bed as it got later. The three of you left shuffled around, gathering game pieces and paper plates and empty cans, until you all eventually met back in the kitchen. Joel gave you a look, and you gave him a comforting smile right back, and it was like the room’s air was replaced with water as he spoke up.

“Tommy?”

“Mmhmm?” 

The younger brother whipped around to face you both, sliding the leftovers into the fridge with a slice in his mouth. 

“I uh… I wanted to let you know that I’m— that we’re, uh… Together?”

You watched as his dark eyes glazed over for a second, brow scrunched up in confusion. And then his gaze flickered from you to him, and back to you, and his eyes grew as big as saucers. 

“No kiddin’?”

Joel laughed. 

“Serious. He’s my… He’s my boyfriend.” 

Tommy swallowed his mouthful of pizza, wiped his mustache, and smiled. A genuine smile, sweet and warm, reaching his eyes. 

“Hermano, good for you. That’s— I’m happy for you.” 

He opened his arms and tugged Joel into a hug, and Joel grumbled something about Tommy getting pizza grease on his clothes, but he was smiling wide and relieved over Tommy’s shoulder. 

But then Joel’s face got serious again as Tommy pulled away with a manly slap to his shoulder. 

“Sarah doesn’t know yet. I wanted to make sure everyone got along first, y’know?” 

And then Tommy was looking at you and rolling his eyes and chuckling. 

“Think we all get along just fine. You should tell her soon.”

And Joel knew Tommy was right, but it didn’t stop him from looking so anxious when Tommy left with another round of goodbye hugs. 

“What are you most worried about?” 

You asked him because you knew there were many things to fret over, in his situation. 

“Just that… She’s had this idea of me this whole time, y’know? What if she sees me different, and then things change between us?” 

And god, that made your throat feel thick, and Joel’s eyes got a little misty, so you pulled him tight against you and let him sag into your hold.

“I know the feeling,” you told him, “but I don’t think you have to worry about that.”

“No?”

You huffed a laugh and tangled your fingers in the curls at the back of his neck. 

“You mean everything to her. I can tell just by how she looks at you. Never seen a teenager like their dad that much.” 

And he laughed too, a little wet against your shoulder. 

“Will you be there with me when I tell her? I don’t— I don’t think I can do it alone.”

Your lips found his bristly cheek and planted a kiss there, and you mumbled of course into the salty skin.

So you went home, with plans to come back the next day. This wasn’t easy for you, either, dating a guy with a kid for the first time. You knew she liked you, at least, but that was a face value assessment. Would she mind you taking up more of her dad’s time? Would she mind you in their space every so often? Would she mind if you came around to her soccer games or science fairs or graduation, as her dad’s boyfriend, in front of all the other kids with nuclear families? Would she resent you for shaking up what they had?

You didn’t get much sleep, thinking about it. You wondered if you should bring her some kind of gift, flowers or a trinket or something, but then you’d be trying too hard, right? 

As you got ready the next morning, you thought about all the ways it could go wrong, but none of them really seemed realistic. Sarah was sweet, and intelligent, and surely if she did have reservations, they’d be able to talk them through civilly. 

Right?

You couldn’t even listen to music on your way to their house. It was a silent fifteen minute drive with your nerves boiling over and spilling out, thinking of how awkward things could get. 

But all of that kind of fell to the wayside when Sarah answered the door and said “I haven’t seen you in forever” with a cheeky grin and those bright eyes she definitely got from Joel. 

It felt cozy when you sat down at their kitchen table while they sipped their coffee and orange juice and Sarah told you both all about the English project she was working on. It put you at ease to ask her questions about things you have in common, and for all of you to mesh so well into a normal conversation.

But as it lulled, you noticed Joel getting restless, and you noticed Sarah noticing his uneasiness. 

“Dad, you’re acting weird in front of our company.” 

And while she was alway kind and respectful, she was still a teenager with a dorky dad. 

“Well… I wanted to talk to you about somethin’.”

She looked at him with her head tilted and her eyebrow raised. 

“Now?”

She nodded her head toward you as she asked, and you couldn’t blame her for being confused as to why he had to have a heart-to-heart with his ‘friend’ visiting. 

“Yeah um… You know how you’re always tellin’ me I should get a life and start datin’?”

Sarah laughed and looked at you.

“Yeah, could you be his wingman? It’s getting sad.” 

And you laughed, and Joel laughed, but it was a little forced, and Sarah’s smart, so you could read the confusion on her face. 

“What’s this about, dad?”

Joel took a big, deep breath and took Sarah’s hand on the table. You watched her squeeze his fingers as her face twisted up in worry. 

“He’s my— we’re dating. He’s my… boyfriend.” 

The worry dissipated, and her eyes got wide and her lips pursed before her jaw slowly dropped with surprise. 

“You guys are together?” 

She looked over to you, then, and all you could do was give her a soft smile and nod. 

“I know you might have some questions—”

“How long? When did you guys meet?” 

She looked back to Joel to answer, but you could see he was still reeling, with sweat saturating the curls at his temples. 

“Just a couple months ago, he taught me how to dance to the Boot Scootin’ Boogie.”

She made a noise, like a scoff, and it made you wince.

“Months!? Dad, why didn’t you tell me?” 

You watched Joel’s eyes cloud with— fear? You’d never seen him look so scared. 

“I’m sorry, babygirl. I just— I guess I didn’t know how. At first.” 

His voice trembled, and you watched Sarah’s lip quiver before she shot out of her chair and lunged toward her dad, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. 

“I love you,” she’d mumbled, like she knew it was what he needed to hear, because his shoulders slumped and his arms wrapped around her back. 

You thought maybe you should look away. It felt real personal. But Joel had asked you to be here, and it was about you, too, as much as that fact made you want to burrow underground. 

“You could have told me sooner. I love boy talk.”

Her voice was muffled and heavy with tears, but Joel chuckled all the same through his own misty gaze. 

“I didn’t know you liked boys.” 

She pulled away but didn’t go far, letting her hands squeeze his biceps as she looked to him for an answer. 

“Me neither,” he shrugged, “I like this boy, though. A lot.” 

And he got this goofy smile on his face, even though it was a little wet, and he looked at you, and you felt so awkward but so head over heels. 

“Okay, well, you still should have told me. I would’ve been on the porch cleaning Uncle Tommy’s shotgun when he pulled up.” 

Joel groaned and covered his face but you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up out of you. 

“What are your intentions with my father?”

And though her tone was joking, her eyes grew soft as she waited for an answer. 

“I guess I just wanna make him happy. Because he makes me happy. If that’s alright with you?” 

She sat back down and rested her chin in her hand, with her lips pursed again as she thought. 

“Sarah, you can have time to think—”

“Deal.” 

She extended her hand out to you from across the table, and you took it eagerly to shake on it. But after an appropriate amount of handshake time, she didn’t let your hand go. 

“You have to come over for movie nights now.” 

“I can do that.”

“And I have to make sure your taste in movies doesn’t suck before I let you pick one.”

“That’s fair.”

“ALSO—“

“Sarah,” Joel interrupted, “this isn’t how deals work. You can’t add stuff while he’s still shaking your hand.” 

“As I was saying,” Sarah rolled her eyes, squeezing your hand tighter, “you have to treat him right. He acts all tough but he’s just a softy.”

“Oh Christ,” Joel huffed. 

“No, she has a point,” you told him with a smirk, “I promise I will, Sarah.”

Her eyes narrowed at you, but then she grinned, and finally let go of your hand. 

So yeah, you really really like Joel Miller. You’re never happier than you are when you spend the evening at his house, snuggled up on one side of him while Sarah’s snuggled up to the other, watching some movie Sarah’s usually the one to pick. 

Or when you meet him and Tommy at Sarah’s soccer game, and he greets you with a smile and lifts the bill of your Miller Contracting hat you’ve stolen to peck your lips. 

Or when you’re in your own kitchen, making his coffee, and you feel sleepy arms wrap around your waist and a sleep warm kiss at the nape of your neck. 

Really, as long as you’re with Joel, you’re the happiest you’ve ever been. And if those three little words slip out one day soon, well, there isn’t a single thing that makes you think Joel would be surprised by them.

[dallasgallant]

Country/southern slang and vernacular-

This is what I’m going with for the title as honestly I’m not sure what else you would call it, but it is also linked to class a little bit? It’s complicated. Anyways, surprised I haven’t done one like this sooner as I’ve done:

JD slang. 60s slang. Rodeo terms

However, it can’t include everything! As usual take this as a jumping off point, it’s funny as Oklahoma is technically southern, culturally and such. Some are sourced from general knowledge, others from southern or “Oklahoma slang” which heavily overlaps but is more accented.

A lot of this ended up actually being more writing accented speech with some slang thrown in, a lot of it is about contractions! Also word usage! They’ll be a more “general grammar” and accent section at the bottom.

—

All get out- sentence enhancer (ex. Funny as all get out)

Air up - Pump air into something (Tires, mattress)

Ain’t - am not; are not; is not. has not; have not.

An’ all - and all

Belted- beaten

‘Bout - about

Billfold- Wallet (Oklahoman, used in place of wallet)

‘Cos - cause/because

Coke- soda (any kind) (ex. You wanna get a Coke? What kind?)

Crick- creek

Do up - prepare : clean/repair (Ex. Y’all do up the dishes)

Do wut - say again

D’yall - Do y’all or did y’all

don’tcha - Don’t you

Drop trou- pull down one’s pants , especially as a stunt in public

dyeet - did you eat?

Figure- Calculate, consider, decide

Fixin’ - on the verge of something : getting ready to

fronta - in front of

Fo’ sure- for sure

Fussin’- overexagerated concern, fidgeting

Gettin’ round - getting ready to go somewhere or do something (ex. Gettin’ round to it)

Gonna- going to

Gussied up - dressed nicer than everyday (ex. Church clothes)

hafta- have to

Hankering- desire, yearning, craving

Heap - a large quantity (ex. Heap of trouble)

Holler- loud cry or shout

Honky tonk - bar where people dance (typically to county, line dance )

Howdy- Greeting or used to express surprise

howta - how to

Hush- quiet, shut up

Ice box - fridge (Oklahoman or rural)

I’mma - I’m gonna or I am

Imma geddin sig n tard" - I’m getting sick and tired

ja'eet yet?- did you eat yet?

Kin- family (not always by blood. Could be someone you’re close to)

Laying out - staying the night (doing something illicit) or

Let alone - leave alone or to indicate somethings less likely

Like to - Almost (rare)

Lick [Noun] - any amount (Ex. Didn’t get a lick of sleep last night)

Lick [Verb] - beat (ex. Steve Licked that soc good)

Musta- must have

Muddin’ (Oklahoman) - off-roading, going down muddy trails

‘N - then/than or and

Naw- no

Neither- not one or other (sometimes used in place of either)

Nuss - To nurse

Okie- native resent of Oklahoma (formerly derogatory during dust bowl)

Ornery- combative, mean

Ought- indicate something correct or probable

Oughta- ought to

Ope- oops

Outta- out or

Preddy sure - pretty sure

Prolly- probably

Pop- soda

Purdy- pretty

Pitch a fit- throw a fit, be really upset

Reckon- think: suppose

Rise- upset someone (ex. He sure got a rise out of her)

Rile- upset someone (ex. Don’t rile up the dog)

Ruther - rather

Shouldn’t’ve- shouldnt have (double negative)

Shoot- polite way to say shit : go ahead and speak

Sho’ nuff - sure enough

‘Sides - besides

s’not - it’s not/is not

s’okay - it’s okay

Sorta- sort of

Sprinklin’ - light rain

stocking feet - wearing just socks

Sumbitch - son of a bitch

Tailing- follow without being noticed

The city - Oklahoma City (even if you live in Tulsa. ‘The city’ is Oklahoma City)

Tore up - upset

Twister- Tornado (used to be more regional)

Upitty- conceited, fancy, snobby

Welp - well or expression (ex. Welp, I better head out)

Whup/whoop- hit

Whipped- beaten

won’tcha = won’t you

Y’all - you all

Yall’re- y’all are

Y’ain’t - you ain’t

Yer - your

-

Grammar-

The more I added to the list the more I realized writing for the gang is just as much learning to write accent than it is slang, it’s the way they talk and that includes grammar etc. Im going to try and explain some points that I’ve noticed in an understandable way, but it’s also important to note that these rules don’t apply every time necessarily.

Using the wrong word

less words in certain sentences (ex. Don’t mean nothin’)

With above, fewer words to describe things.

Drop the G occasionally (ex. Nothin’ )

Adding ‘d instead of saying ‘would (ex. Soda’d)

Real> really (descriptive)

Anybody > anyone

Weren’t typically goes with a double negative ( ex. weren’t nothing we could do)

Use of ‘you’ (used instead of a name or ‘your’)

Use of ‘was’ instead of ‘were’ ( ex. I knew you was)

Both Aren’t and isn’t become ain’t (sometimes even more)

A LOT OF CONTRACTIONS

Combing words - either a new contraction or new spelling to emphasize accent, especially around questions (ex. ja'eet yet?)

Use of expressions/idioms (ex. That dog won’t hunt)

[hornyhornyhimbos]

"Wilder Than Any Eight Second Ride" ~ S. Harrington

Summary: At the annual Honky-Tonk Halloween Party, Reader and Steve find themselves having a little bull-riding competition. When Steve isn't pleased with the results, he demands a rematch… in the bedroom.

Pairing: Bullrider!Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,545

Content Warning: MINORS DNI (18+ content) unprotected piv sex, cowgirl activities, against the wall activities, creampie, bondage, marking a lil bit, nicknames (princess, sweetheart, baby, cowgirl; daddy once i think), explicit language, alcohol mentions since it takes place at a bar, lmk if i missed anything!

Extra Notes: i missed writing for these two individuals

Originally Written: 10/20/2024 through 10/24/2024

stranger things masterlist can be found here!

halloweek masterlist can be found here!

The air was buzzing, filled with the smell of alcohol and sweat. “Elvira” by The Oak Ridge Boys blared through the speakers, though it was barely heard over the crowd of probably two hundred people chattering amongst themselves. The annual Honky-Tonk Halloween celebration was officially underway.

Steve, as per usual, looked absolutely delectable, even in his cheaply made, party store costume. He used his hot-pink bandana to wipe up a spill on the bar, and something about the sight sent heat straight to your core.

“See something you like, Western Barbie?” he smirked, never taking his eyes off the spilled alcohol.

You met him with a similar smirk. “Just admiring the view, Cowboy Ken.”

Dark brown eyes finally met your own gaze as he finished cleaning up the puddle of beer on the counter. “You sure that's the only thing going on in that pretty head of yours?” You could tell he was already a little buzzed himself; his accent got thicker when he was under the influence.

“Other than how I'm totally gonna kick your ass at the mechanical bull riding competition?” you asked with an eye roll.

Steve met you with a daring expression, one eyebrow raised quizzically. “What makes you so sure you're winnin’? Considering I ride actual bulls for a living, I've got a little bit of a leg-up on ya, princess.”

You walked around to the other side of the bar, standing face to face with him and placing your hands on his chest. A gasp nearly escaped you at how rock-solid his chest felt underneath the jacket he currently sported, but you chose not to comment on it, considering how much you already inflated his ego on the daily. “Mmm, see, I also have a little riding experience of my own under my belt.”

“Is that so?” Steve asked, leaning down a little closer to you.

You simply met him halfway, leaning in for a playful kiss. “Well, what can I say? I've had a really good teacher.”

His hand swatted at your butt as you walked away, and the sound of Steve chuckling could be heard even through the chaos of everything else happening in the bar. He quickly followed after you, his long legs catching up in just a couple strides.

The crowd of half-drunk bull-riding fans cheered Steve on as he approached the mechanical bull. With a smirk, he climbed up, confident that he'd win this little competition between the two of you. “Start her up!” he hollered to the operator.

The machine started up, and immediately his hips began twisting in a way that should've been illegal in public, in your opinion anyway. One hand met his Stetson, while the other held tight to the handle of the bull. His jeans were ridiculously tight, showing off the curves of his ass and bulge as he rocked back and forth. It was dirty, practically erotic, and he soaked up every moment of the ride with his head thrown back. While he looked like an overdone version of a cowboy in a western movie, he looked like a damn good version of the stereotype.

“Think you can keep up with me this time, princess?” he called, practically grinding against the fake saddle.

Your scoff in reply could probably be heard in the parking lot. “You wish you could keep up with me!”

The comment must've been enough to catch him off guard, because as he laughed at your response, he came tumbling down from the machine and onto the safety mat.

He turned to look at the operator, who simply replied with, “Eighteen seconds.”

“Oooof,” you let out, trying to sound regretful. “Sounds like someone's slacking in their preseason. Your trainer's not gonna be too happy, Steven.”

He rolled his eyes, patting your ass again. “Let's see you do any better, cowgirl,” he said, lifting you by the hips onto the mechanical bull.

With a confident smile, you signaled for the operator to start up the machine again. You made a show of grinding your hips against the faux saddle, and in a similar fashion to Steve, your opposite hand that wasn't holding onto the bull flew to your sparkly cowgirl hat.

You whooped and shouted as you held onto the bull, your confidence never ceasing. All eyes were on you, though the only pair you cared about belonged to someone who'd seen these moves from you a million times. And just for him, you twisted your hips a little extra, all for his enjoyment.

Time seemed to slow as you fell off the mechanical bull and onto the mat below. Steve was quick to make his way over, offering a strong hand and helping you up from the floor. “Impressive,” he commented. “Not sure if it was enough to beat the champ, though.”

“We'll just see about that,” you replied confidently, turning to the machine's operator and asking for your results.

When he replied with, “Twenty-two seconds,” a pleased squeal left your lips. Your husband simply rolled his eyes, demanding a rematch.

With a shake of your head, you said, “No can do, Cowboy Ken. Results are final.” And then, “It's all in the hips, you know.”

“You forget who taught you that phrase?” he quipped. Then, as if just registering your first sentence, he said, “And final my ass.”

When you smiled about your accomplishment again, a hand swatted at your butt a third time. And then, a suggestive glint appeared in his eye as he whispered, “I think I know of a way we can have our rematch without interrupting all these people waiting for the bull…”

That was how you found yourselves wandering away from the party and up the stairs to your apartment, hands on each other the whole way. As soon as Steve opened the door, his lips were on yours, his hands meeting your hips and his foot moving to kick the door closed. As often as you and Steve were on each other, you couldn’t recall a time when the door had been closed the proper way.

In a matter of seconds, both your hat and Steve's had been tossed aside, along with his jacket. Your hands met his hair as he kneeled in front of you, making quick work of your cowgirl boots and nipping at your clothed thighs. Perhaps he should've been a magician for Halloween with the way he could manage to make your clothes disappear

He kicked off his own boots, a skill he'd managed to cut down to five seconds flat. While he worked on the fastening of his own pants, you easily slipped yours off, leaving you in nothing but a bandana, vest and a pair of lacy panties that left little to the imagination.

Steve groaned at the sight as his lips met your neck, the vibration sending heat straight through you. “You're so fucking beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, fingernails digging into your love handles ever-so-slightly.

“Even dressed as a party store Barbie?” you smirked, the sentence being cut off by a sigh as his hand moved to cup your clothed core.

“Especially dressed as a party store Barbie.” His thumb rubbed a soft circle against your covered clit, eliciting a noise of approval from you.

A moment later, his pants and boxers were shoved down and tossed aside, leaving him completely bare for you. He didn't even bother to undo your vest, instead focusing on discarding the white lace to get to where he wanted to feel you most. You couldn't help the moan that left your lips as the air hit your most sensitive spots.

Lips were on lips as Steve lifted you, wrapping your legs around his waist as he forced the two of you backward into your bedroom. A small sound of both pain and pleasure came from you as your back hit the wall, overtaken by another, hungrier sound as the head of his cock teased at your entrance.

“Fuck,” you whined, canting your hips forward. You were desperate, oh so desperate, for him to be inside you at any capacity.

Still, Steve wasn't giving in that easily. “Gotta beg for it, princess. Otherwise, I don't know what you want.” He knew exactly what you craved, but he could be a dominant asshole sometimes, wanting to see just how far he could push you.

“I want to ride you,” you said, the words coming out in a sigh. Your hands pulled his face to yours, your lips meeting in a needy kiss and your tongues moving together hungrily.

With that simple sentence, Steve shifted your hips and used the space to push inside you. Both of you let out a synced groan, your body instinctively squeezing around his length.

Teeth nipped at his shoulder, eliciting a rather loud moan from his mouth as you sucked on his skin. “As sexy as that is, you know I got that Calvin Klein shoot coming up,” Steve reminded you.

You smirked at the thought. Steve “The Hawk” Harrington, had been invited by the Calvin Klein team to do his own campaign. The shoot was in just a few days, the two of you flying out to New York bright and early the next Monday. Every time you thought about him in those signature boxers, posing by a poolside, you nearly started to salivate.

A wicked expression lit up your face as you scratched at his chest this time, another moan coming from his lips. Clearly he was enjoying the feeling, but the rational side of his brain took over as he thrusted into you a little harder.

“Baby, as much as I love- fuck- the way it feels to have you marking me up,” he started to say, hips rolling into yours all the while, “I have to make sure I look my best for the photoshoot.”

“I think you look your best when you're all marked up,” you pouted, feigning innocence. With another nip at Steve's shoulder, you scratched him again, just to see what he'd do. His reaction wasn't quite what you expected, but it was still welcomed and still extremely sexy.

His hand met your neck, undoing the bright pink bandana that had been tied there. In one swift movement, he had you on the bed, pinning both of your arms above your head. With a nearly evil look, he tied your wrists together. “Bet you won't disobey now, huh?” he remarked, emphasizing his win with another deep roll of his hips.

Despite the restriction, you still managed to meet his thrusts like your life depended on it. Steve's name rolled off your tongue like a mantra, your way of showing him how you needed more of him, all of him.

Steve wrapped an arm around your body as he flipped the two of you over, giving you what you'd asked for earlier. His signature phrase, “Giddy up, cowgirl,” tumbled from his mouth, those three words only fueling you on.

His hands gripped your love handles, lifting you up and down his length. The restraint only made the scene that much more filthy, whine after whine falling from your lips.

The smell of sweat and sex wafted through the air, the partying crowd from downstairs being completely forgotten as the scent overtook you. They could be right outside your door, and honestly neither of you would care. As long as you were together, your bodies connected in any capacity, you didn't care who was around.

One of Steve's hands stayed on your hips while the other snaked between your bodies. His thumb rubbed circles over your aching clit, his eyes hooded as he watched you near your release.

“There ya go, cowgirl,” he encouraged, his fingers and dick working in tandem to please you just how you needed. “Take whatever you need from Daddy.”

His praise only made you keen further, your back arching and your mouth falling slack at just how much pleasure he was currently bringing you. To the best of your abilities, you bounced on his length a little harder, mentally cursing him for tying your hands together when you so desperately wanted to be gripping his shoulders or his hair.

“Stevie, please,” you begged. “I'm so close, but I can't-” Your sentence was cut off by a whimper as he thrusted up into you.

He knew exactly what you needed, finishing the statement for you. “If you can promise to not leave any more marks, I'll take it off, okay?”

You nodded, but obviously it wasn't enough, considering he once again told you to use your words. Another plea left your lips, this time telling him exactly what you needed.

With one flick of his finger, he undid the fastening around your wrists. Desperately, your hands met his hair, tugging at the tussled strands.

A chuckle rumbled through Steve's chest, the sound simultaneously hot and annoying. “Not sure Calvin will appreciate it if I show up all covered in marks.”

“I don't know,” you managed to smirk, your climax inching further as you continued to take his cock as deep as you could. “He might not, but I'm sure your female fans will.”

Ever the gentleman, he just leaned forward and kissed your neck with a juxtaposing sweetness to the otherwise lewd scene. “You're the only female fan I care about, sweetheart.”

The words made you clench around him. His thumb caressed your clit, the movement somehow both sweet and dirty. You were so close, and by the sudden twitch of his cock inside you, you could tell he was too.

“You're so beautiful,” he repeated, his lips meeting your wrist with a gentle kiss. Despite the earlier urgency, the air now had a level of soft intimacy to it that you simply couldn't explain. It was like that with Steve; one minute, he was a desperate mess, and the next, he was showing you how much he loved you.

The compliment was just what you needed to push you over the edge, your orgasm hitting you like a freight train. Steve quickly followed suit, his seed filling you up just how you always wanted.

You both collapsed in each other's arms, his now softening cock still buried inside you as he held your body close. His lips peppered what skin he had access to outside of your vest, his hands softly caressing your hips.

“Steve?” you said after a while of just laying there, just being together.

He hummed in question, too tired to form a full sentence.

You leaned up to look at him, a cheeky grin taking over your otherwise blissed-out face. “Not sure if you tying my wrists together was the sexiest thing or the meanest thing you've ever done.”

Steve met you with a smirk. “Can't it be both?”

With a roll of your eyes, your lips landed on his, and in that moment, you decided if you were to die just like that, you'd at least die a happy woman.

“I'll tell you what, though,” Steve said, a tired drawl to his words as he pulled you closer. “You sure are wilder than any eight second ride I've ever done.”

“I'll take that as a compliment,” you smiled giddily, meeting him halfway for another kiss.

-> taglist: @dungeons-are-too-cold @rupsmorge @writer-in-theory @esoltis280 @liberhoe @wifeyreid @serenity-lattes-reads

[ddejavvu]

Whipped!Hangman would:

Tell everyone to "Be nice to them, or you're all dead. Every single one of you. Especially you, Big Bird." He emphasizes the last part with a point to Rooster

Let you win at pool because you look so happy when you win and he doesn't have the heart to actually win

Give you seashells he finds

Win you a prize at a claw machine. He would literally stand there the whole night and empty out his wallet if it means he gets to see that smile when he gives the plush

Give you flowers. Idc idc, he so would

Listen to you talk and talk and talk

Send you songs that remind him of you

save your contact with a little '<3' after your name

no bc around his team members he's a whole different person than he is with you, and that's not to say he's not 'himself' around you, but he knows his friends need to be threatened into good behavior so he runs ahead when you meet them with the nastiest glare on his face like i fucking dare you to act out and lets you grab his arm if you're a little nervous to meet everyone :'))

hangman is the reigning pool champion but everyone else must be super bad bc he always loses to you?? he's really not even that good at pool, you don't know why he keeps making the stupid mistakes he does... oh well! he's asked you to teach him your methods, so you'll have fun giving him pointers <3

hangman probably never collects seashells, because he's too impatient to sift through the sand for him and there's always better stuff to be doing, like chasing a frisbee, catching a football, diving into the waves is he a dog? but he always collects seashells after you're dating, he spots one by his foot and he's like woah y/n would love this. and he just sticks it right in his pocket for you, presents the little thing in his giant palm later with a smile, like here y'go darlin'. Ain't it pretty? It made me think of you.

HNNGGH PLEASE :(( penny puts in an arcade machine in the bar to make more money, and it's proooobably rigged, but you can't prove anything >:( anyways ofc hangman doesn't know this, and penny didn't think anyone would put that much effort into the machine for a stupid pink bear, but $30 later (all paid in ones) he's about to smash the glass to get the poor thing out and you beg penny to just let him have it already 😭 she's like yk what i can buy a truckload of cheap stuffed animals with that $30. sold. so she fishes it out for him and is like ohh must be bugging out. i'll fix it. take this in the meantime. and he hasn't held it for a second before he turns around and gives it to you :')) he's all sheepish like wish I could'a won it for you. Guess I just paid Penny off, huh? I hope you like it anyways. and you sleep with it every night to make him feel better, you tuck it between the two of you when you cuddle up to his chest :')

he brings you flowers all the time!!! he's a real southern gentleman, if you ask what they're for he says 'just because' or 'just for being you' :')

he has one of those expressions where he zones out while listening to you talk and you can totally tell he's not paying attention to you anymore, he's looking at you all dreamy the same way babies look at chocolate 🥹

jake hangman country boy seresin only listens to country music. that's it. he'll send you any honky tonk song under the sun if it describes a sweet, pretty love interest, if there's anything positive at all in the song he's sending it like morning, darlin. this made me think of you <3

THE <3 !!!!!!!!! rooster's the first one to see it and his brow furrows and he goes 'hangman, who is that?' and jake snatches the phone away from him so fucking fast, snapping at him to stop snooping on people, it's rude. but bradley's seen it now, and he'll be damned if he doesn't torture the info out of hangman. within minutes everyone knows hangman's got a girl, and it's only a matter of time before you're discovered <3

[pinkroseblooms]

Options

Arajin Tomoshibi/f!Reader/Marito Jin

Summary: A misunderstanding leads Arajin to realizing he's not quite over his crush on you; it's even harder ignoring his own feelings when you also manage to peak his volatile boyfriend's interest. A/N: This takes place in a AU without magic and honki people. Suggestive language, but no smut: part 2 coming soon! Enjoy! wc: 2.3k

“Let Arajin go!”

Marito felt something smack the back of his head, right dead center of his bun; he slowly turns enough to see you holding a ladle high above your head. You flinched, but held the utensil higher. Arajin shrugged off Marito’s arm; his soul might have ascended from his body, seeing you standing in the middle of the street.

“What are you doing?!”

“It’s okay; you start running, I’ll hold this jerk off!” Your knees shake, threatening to buckle under you at the glare Marito is casting your way. “Run!”

“Wa-wait! It’s not what you think!” Arajin sputters, hands raised as he gets between you and Marito. “What are you even doing here? Mom said you were on serving duty today; just go back to the restaurant-”

“Ara-teen, do you know this little beast?” Marito’s lips form a slow, cold smile. “That must be it; otherwise, I sure hope she has a good reason for attacking me so rudely on our date.”

“Date?” You blink, lowering the ladle to your chest. “Arajin, you…know this guy? So, he’s not bullying you?”

About ten minutes prior, you, a server at the Chu Chu Chinese Restaurant, had been tossing a couple of trash bags out in the dumpster when your eyes spied Arajin walking past with someone you didn’t know. The taller boy’s arm was slung over Arajin’s shoulders and he was talking animatedly, but your immediate assumption was that this stranger was shaking down Arajin for money or favors. You didn’t know at the time Marito Jin was in fact a gang leader, but currently you’re apologizing profusely for your “attack”; Arajin and Marito sat across from each other at an empty table as you explained to them what was going through your mind.

“I feel so dumb.” You bow your head in Marito’s direction specifically. “I really am sorry, I jumped to conclusions; I’ve been worried about Arajin having a tough time at school and I guess…I assumed the worst. I’m so sorry, Jin-san.”

“I’ll let it go this time.” Marito says coolly, barely glancing your way. “I wouldn’t normally let you live after such an offense, but for Ara-teen’s sake, I’ll excuse your rudeness.”

Arajin gulped: there’s no way he can tell you Marito is actually not only a juvenile delinquent but a dangerous psycho. No, it’s better you don’t get involved in any of this; Arajin’s known you most of his life. His mother and yours had been friends forever and when your mother passed, you had been all but adopted. You made ends meet working at Chu Chu; you were earnest and hard working but something of a worry wart, at least when it came to Arajin.

“You really don’t have to worry about me,” Arajin tries to sound casual and breezy as you set down two cups of hot tea. “Marito might seem scary but he is a…well, he’s very…he would never, uh…” 

Okay, maybe it’s dishonest to try and tell you Marito is a “good” person but Arajin really doesn’t want you to be concerned; if anything, he knows Marito is going to be the first person to throw down on his behalf should anyone even try to hurt him. Now, whether or not Marito will be inflicting any of that pain himself, that’s something Arajin can’t quite say for sure. 

“Is your head okay?” You look around Marito’s head; you lightly touch the spot you made contact with. “I can get you some ice.”

“Wow, you are wound up tight.” Marito slaps your hand away, but it’s more of a light swat than anything. “Ara-teen, tell her to calm down and bring us food; it’s bad enough our date got interrupted, I’m starving.” he whined as you left to fetch them some appetizers. “Also, you didn’t ask how my head was…”

“You said it didn’t hurt though,” Arajin grumbles under his breath, blowing on his tea. “I can’t believe this. What on earth was she thinking?”

“Is she your guard dog? A little beast like her couldn’t hurt a fly.” Marito snickers, teeth baring wolfishly. “Don’t tell me she thinks you need her to protect you.”

“It’s more like…she’d step in to help anyone.” Arajin smiles a little himself; he remembers how hard you were shaking, the real fear behind your bold glare. “She’s crazy, that girl.”

“Hey, who are we talking about here?” You come back to their table with two plates loaded up with food. “Arajin, so mean.”

“No, I didn’t mean it how it sounded!” Arajin scrambles to explain himself. “You were really cool back there actually.”

“Aw, come on, you and I both know I’m useless in a fight; that was all a bluff.” You address Marito. “Besides, he’s the one who looks cool. I really like your hair and piercings.”

“Flattery won’t get you on my good side.” 

“No, I’m serious.” You tell him with some surprise. “I’m sure you get this a lot, but you could be a model or something; of course, Arajin’s still the cutest. He’s off the charts when it comes to being a cutie pie.”

“Ugh, don’t make fun of me.” 

“Come on, no need to be modest in front of your date.” You tease. “He knows what I’m talking about, right Jin-san?”

“I’m an expert.” Marito agrees, fixing Arajin with a knowing look. “You should see how cute he looks when-”

“KNOCK IT OFF!”

“Soooo scary!” Marito cackles. “Is your face red from anger? Or something else?”

“You’re both awful.”

Arajin scoffs but inwardly he’s getting…tingly. It’s almost like both you and Marito are flirting with him, giving him all this attention. He has to remind himself you’re just being nice.

Marito takes a chicken skewer and tears a bite of juicy meat off with a satisfied hum. “Hm, these are different.”

“Oh that one is my recipe.” You grin. “Arajin, do you like it?”

“It’s delicious.” 

“Yay!”

Arajin feels his chest swell at the look of pride on your face; honestly he would happily swallow unseasoned glass shards by the spoonful if you asked him to. You were wrong: if anyone’s cute it’s you. God, he’s only been back for a few months; Arajin thought by now you wouldn’t have the same effect on him, especially now he’s seeing someone. To be fair, with Marito he wasn’t exactly given a choice, but still. 

“Feed me, Ara-teen!” Marito leans over the table and points to his open mouth. “I want a dumpling.”

“You have hands!” 

Arajin’s cheeks flush and he hopes you don’t notice. He uses his chopsticks to take a dumpling and pops it into his mouth, ignoring Marito’s whimper, but hunger wins out and he takes a dumpling for himself. 

“Here, don’t forget the sauce.” Arajin slides the bottle over to Marito. “You always eat too fast and forget to use it.”

“Aw, thanks honey~”

“Don’t. Call. Me. That.”

“Yum!” Marito licks his lips eagerly. “These really hit the spot.”

“I hope you like them; I still feel bad about earlier, so I doubled the portion.” You smile sweetly, hands clasped to your chest. “I made them with lots and lots of love, just for you two!”

Arajin almost chokes when your hands form a heart shape; Marito pauses mid bite as you shoot them with a “love beam” and giggle childishly. 

“Chu!” You blow them a kiss. “Please let me know if you want anything else; have fun on your date, Arajin-it was nice to meet you, Jin-san.”

Arajin can barely stop himself from staring as the skirt of your uniform flounces around your thighs and your hips sway with every step.

“I see how it is.” Marito leans over the table with a sly smile. “Ara-teen, bad boy. You’re practically family, aren’t ya? Does she know about your little crush? Or were you childhood sweethearts? Don’t say it’s so, I’ll be jealous.”

“No, no, no! We’re barely friends, my mom knew her mom, she’s just…”

But Arajin can tell Marito isn’t buying his excuses; of course he’s thought about you that way. 

“I liked her.” Arajin confesses quietly. “She’s cute and she's a good person: I admire her, that's all."

Cute, brave, sweet, and only the most perfect girl and Arajin knows he doesn’t have a chance in hell. Besides, you don’t see him that way; he might as well be your kid brother, the way you fuss and act so protectively. 

“I can see it now: two love birds who grew up together, getting married and running this place, a few kids maybe, real domestic. Blegh.” Marito rolls his eyes. “I bet your mom would be thrilled; is she planning the wedding? You're not just playing with me to pass the time, are ya?”

“You know mom likes you; you shocked her maybe, but she thinks you're funny and cool.” Arajin replies with a small smile. "Not that she wouldn't be happy with anyone as long as they treat me well. The only thing that would make the old hag happier is maybe if you and I and-”

“We all got together? You, me, and that little beast?” Marito picks up a dumpling, almost gingerly with his chopsticks, inspecting it with an odd half smile. “Nah, more like…a nervous little kitten who doesn’t know how to use her claws yet. She needs training.” 

Arajin watches Marito carefully; he’s been acting off all afternoon. More so, at least. 

"You heard what she said: besides, she hates fighting." Arajin remarks, passing Marito the whole plate of skewers. "Go on, these are your favorite right?"

"They're best when you make 'em though." Marito winks, basically salivating as he picks up another stick. "I bet you've had a lot of her cooking, huh?"

"Why do you keep bringing the conversation back to her?" Arajin sighs; his teas gone cold but he's too anxious to call you back over to bring more. "My mom teaches her and she has me for a guinea pig. Actually when she started cooking it was awful."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, always over salted or undercooked or burned, you name it." Arajin recalls various failed dishes he had been assigned to taste test. "She'd do it over and over again though. It was important to her. Mom would tell her food can be an expression of personality; I guess that's why she put so much effort into doing better."

Every time, you would go to him with a hopeful spark in your eyes; even now you're self conscious about how your food tastes. Arajin would say the practice paid off, but considering he would consume poison made with your painstaking care, maybe he's not the one you should've been going to for critiques.

"Her food tastes like her." Marito smacks his lips in satisfaction. "I taste it."

"The saying isn't really literal." Arajin smiles in exasperation. "What are you even tasting?"

Marito leans his chin on his hand; he has a much more subdued expression and the abrupt change on his demeanor isn't lost on Arajin. Marito is being serious.

"Filling warmth."

"Filling...warmth?"

"It's kinda like," Marito drawls. "There's heat in my belly; I already ate so much, I know I shouldn't eat more, but I can't get enough. Don't ya taste it?"

"Yeah, well," Arajin scratches his cheek. "I'd say it's comforting? Something like that."

“So, you do have a crush."

"Marito, lower your voice please!"

"Says the one squealing like a little girl; gotta say, I’m a bit disappointed in you, Ara-teen. All this time and you never tried to claim her? Normally you woulda been kissin' her ass and the ground she walks on, but you're holding back?” Marito asks, almost as if he’s genuinely curious. “You’re so odd: fiery and bold one minute and all shy and timid the next.”

“I mean, we’re…together now, so what does it matter? Come on, it's not funny, Marito. We're on a date but you keep trying to-to goad me into flirting or something.” Arajin glances around, but no one seems to be paying them any mind. “You act like you want me to make a move on her.”

“Maybe I do.”

Arajin watches, gaping as Marito sinks his teeth into the last dumpling; he’s staring towards where you’re speaking with his mother behind the bar counter. You’re nodding, looking fairly serious now, at the ready and eager to help. Arajin can feel his heart fluttering again and he jumps when Marito’s foot slides to tap his own under the table; Arajin looks up but Marito’s eyes are still on you, a strained smile playing on his lips, as if he's trying to not laugh. 

Although everything on the table has been devoured already, Arajin wouldn't know it from the hungry way Marito scans your face, the way his tongue darts out as if to savor any trace left of the meal you had brought them. He looks ready to lick the empty plate clean: except, his eyes are still on you.

Arajin squirms in his seat and at the same moment, you seem to have noticed them staring. You wave sweetly, smiling at them; Arajin could dissolve into a puddle as Marito reaches under the table to grasp at his knee.

"Hey, ya know what we oughta do? Let's adopt a kitten."

"What?!" Arajin gasps, words cut off as Marito slides his wandering hand further to his thigh. "Stop teasing, this really, really, isn't funny..."

“I thought you liked when I teased you?" Marito giggles maniacally. "Anyway, she did say with lots and lots of love for us. Or are you so worked up you can't remember?"

"I don't think she meant..I-I couldn't-"

"Please, Ara-teen? Pretty, pretty please?" Marito coos and simpers; there's a hint of pink rising in his pale cheeks. “I wanna play with that kitten.”

[grogusmum]

Please Mister Please

JOEL MILLER X F!READER (nicknamed)

SUMMARY: You can't seem to escape that one song even after the apocalypse. Joel and Ellies friendship brings you some comfort, and maybe Joel is interested in more.

WORD COUNT: 1700ish

WARNINGS: None to speak of. Unless you need one for soft Joel. As always, if you see something I've missed, let me know in my DMs, and I'll add it.

A/N: Just a little something inspired by the Olivia Newton-John's song of the same name. (She was in her country music era) It's hardly edited, written on my phone, and Imma just yeetin' it out there. Oops. It's just the usual fluffy hurt comfort. But it IS my first go round with Joel. I hope you enjoy it! 💚

The jukebox was found on a supply run at some honky tonk out Fort Collins way called Sundance something or other. You laughed at your first thought, which was it's wasn't one of those new ones with CDs, realizing "those new ones" were now 40 years old... but this one was truly an antique, with vinyl in it and everything.

A Wurlitzer in all its chrome, brightly colored bakelite, and satisfying push button glory.

You shake your head now, thinking you should have known the moment you heard. Everyone was so excited. Because, of course, they were! How fun is an old timey jukebox full of country-western ballads, anthems, and line dance classics?

It brought an energy into Jackson, the likes you hadn't seen before it. You'd gotten in early on, and watched its evolution from place where people were merely surviving to an industrious hive of busy bees, creating abundance but there wasn't much room for joy and then out of the clear blue sky - line dancing. At first they couldnt keep it plugged in all the time, it was turned on for a half an hour at the end of the day, until they had a good handle on the dam and the power plant was working consistently. You're sure it was the inspiration for Maria's attention to holidays and socials after seeing the excitement and morale lift from it. Suddenly, y'all were living, not just staying alive. So it seems silly, with so much real life and death shit to deal with, to get so hung up on one song, but it carried so much weight for you, you just couldn't shake it. If only it wasn't so sweet, if only it wasn't so catchy… Maybe people wouldn't have noticed it among all the other tracks. But it was sweet and it was catchy, and about making it after all the shit they'd been through...

So naturally, at five songs for a quarter, it ends up in the mix at some point. (It's the only reason the town has any coins. Paying it could have been bypassed, but dropping the 25¢ seemed to be part of the fun.) So when you least expected it, it would start to play, and so far, it continued to flip your stomach and make your eyes glass. And think about how he and you didn't actually make it.

Joel and Ellie have been in Jackson several months now. Ellie dove right in, school, taking care of the horses afterward, trying to socialize. She's a little guarded sure but mostly funny and eager. Joel started helping Tommy right away, but it seemed to you more to keep busy than to join the community. He's wary and taciturn. When they weren't in those organized work times, they stuck close. When Ellie ventured into social activities, Joel let her go, but he was ever watchful, with Ellie checking in often even just a look over her shoulder, just to see if he was still there. He always was. They reminded you of a bonded pair of strays.

You liked your place, Catnip's Apothecary. They'd come in twice so far, once when Joel brought Ellie in for a poison ivy rash and once when Ellie brought a very grumpy Joel for inflammation in his knees Ellie found all your jars of tinctures, teas, herbs, and powders fascinating. Asking what everything did, looking at drying plants hanging from rafters in wonder, pspspsing the cats.

“Are you a witch?”

“Ellie!” Joel admonished, but looking at you for a tell. Were you? You could see him wondering.

You only laughed. Sure you were, but what they were seeing here was hardly witchcraft, just herbalism, mostly. Joel and Ellie are both bright and observant - you're pretty sure they both noticed you didn't answer.

Tonight, Ellie is at the rec center, a movie theater for the evening, awaiting the start of none other than Star Wars.

Where did they find all these 70s flicks? Nevertheless, A New Hope's a great find. You can't resist going, even though you know it by heart, and you'll have to force yourself not to recite all the dialogue. Sitting smack dab in the middle, surrounded by all these kids and young adults, seeing it for the first time, you munch your popcorn and smile.

You don't see Joel, but it's not like you are actively looking for him… just curious, given their penchant to stay together and you figured he will know the movie too, maybe he's more of a Trekkie. When you catch Ellie's eye, she waves animatedly and moves to sit beside you.

“Sssoooo, you're like one of the only grown ups here.” there is a gremlin glint in Ellie’s eye.

“Yeah, I thought there'd be more nostalgia watchers-” you say a little sheepishly. “ But it's okay, I'll see it with a soon-to-be New Generation of Star Wars Fans. Bear Witness!”

“And what if it sucks?”

The noise you make is somewhere between an indignant scoff and a gasp of purest offense. But you rally.

“Oh just you wait padawan-”

"What's a pada-"

As quickly as the lights go down the attention commanding drums of the 20th Century Fox fanfare begin.

“Oop here we go! Buckle up, buttercup!!”

You live vicariously through the new audience for the next two hours, and it is a pure joy.

The young people of Jackson laugh at the Laurel and Hardy comedy stylings of Threepio and Artoo, they eat up the “though she be little she is fierce” snarky spirit of Princess Leia, gasp at Alderaan's fate and Obi Wan's sacrifice, cheer at Hans return, hold their collective breath when Luke turns off his targeting device to use the force, and burst into applause when he makes the one in a million shot, womp rats in Beggars Canyon take heed.

“Aw man I really hope we can see Empire some day,” you say as the credits roll.

Ellie is elated, peppering you with questions about the sequel and then Return of the Jedi as you walk out of the rec center, and everyone begins to head home. You do you best answering, not wanting to spoil too much if she actually gets to watch it.

“I'm this way,” she says suddenly, as she peels off from the town center, “see ya!”

You head toward the Tipsy Bison, to join the adults, most of which took advantage of the kids being off at the movie to do a little drinking and dancing.

The spring has brought high spirits, and with it bright chatter and the stomp of line dancing in progress. Grabbing a spot to watch, you order yourself a drink. When the song ends, there's hoots and applause, and the next one is slow and sweet, and it only takes the first note for you to feel the drop in your belly.

Joel saw you come in, he had seen you from the street actually, when the community center emptied after the film, he had his eye out for Ellie and saw her come out with you, talking animatedly and laughing. He smiled. You were his age, or close enough, he guesses, not only from both the smile and worry lines but your points of reference when talking, only missing references that are local to growing up in Texas. It's comforting, you remember Before. You also have a light he can't get enough of. You didn't confirm nor deny it, but he is sure you've enchanted him witch or not. He's just been too, 'shy' isn't the right word... he just hasn't been able to make any sort of move.

Then he does his best to saunter over to your little table, drink in hand. He's pretty sure his sauntering days are over.

Now you sit alone, a moment ago smiling, tapping to the music. He had been taking in some liquid courage, in the form of whiskey, to ask you to dance. But the light in your eyes is replaced with a shine, not in the way he loves. He's seen this a couple times, he realizes. Times when your eyes go far away and a sadness descends on you.

He gets up and checks the jukebox, taking note of the song. He's pretty sure he's right. He can't bypass a song on a jukebox, nor can he tell a DJ to change it. But he's gonna talk to Walt the barkeeper, first chance he gets.

“Hey Catnip, can I sit?”

You look up wiping your wide eyes.

“Oh, sure, Joel, please,” your smile tries to reach your eyes, but it flickers and can't stay.

“So," Joel starts, he's not good at this. He's gotten better but, “You're Still the One, huh? For me, it's Vince Gill- When I Call Your Name ”

You just look at him, and he starts to think maybe he hasn't improved at all.

“I don't know that one, it was kind of a fluke that our song, his song was a country song. It's not my usual genre.”

“Well it wasn't my lady and my song, it was the song that I listened to after she left. Sarah was so little. I felt so lost in those early days. Now I can't even hear the open-”

“Opening chords,” you finish with a chuckle, “yeah, I can't- and now of course it all wrapped up in the Before Times, too. But here it is, in a jukebox of less than 200 songs, the one song that represents my husband walking out on me before the shit hit the fan.”

“I can't even picture anyone leaving you with nothing but a song.”

“Yeah, well, I can picture it quite clearly. I can't imagine someone leaving you with a little baby girl to raise.”

“We are in the same boat, darlin’ until it happened I would have been with you on that. We were very young, 22, she panicked.”

“Aren't we a pair?”

“Why don't this pair go for a walk then?”

Joel holds his breath, looking into your lovely face.

“I'd like that.”

Standing, Joel holds out a hand to guide you up and out of the bar, it settles comfortably on your lower back, the song long over. His hand tingles and theres a flutter in his chest at being allowed to touch you this way.

It smells like petrichor, though the skies are clear. Joel's hand leaves your back to your chagrin, but he gently holds out his elbow, and with a crooked smile you slip your hand in the crux of it.

“Such a gentleman.”

He smiles and brings you to the newly constructed, yet to be painted, gazebo.

You climb the handful of steps and look at the town from this new vantage point.

Behind you, Joel comes close, his hand casually on your hip, like you did this everyday. His mouth close to the shell of your ear and a quiet hum floats in, the controlled breath tickling, you smile knowing the very apt song choice,

“Are you making fun of me Joel Miller?”

He chuckles, then the words over take the hum -

“Please mister, please, don't play B-17

It was our song, it was his song but it's over

Please Mr. please, if you know what I mean

I don't ever wanna hear that song again…”

Joel turns you, arm around your waist, his other hand sliding into yours -

" I'd sound a bit better with my guitar, but when we couldnt dance, so-"

He starts a simple box step, as he sings quiet and low, just for you, while turning you around the gazebo.

You join in singing, whispering in his ear the chorus when it comes again. It feels cathartic. Then you step back - who is this man? Not the guy who came in with a little girl, a gut wound that should have killed him, poorly healed knuckles, and the wary eye of someone who is always waiting for the other shoe to come down on him like it's made of lead. But looking at him now, those brown eyes wide but the little crease between his eyes holding his concern. His jaw soft, making you take more note of his natural pout and the salt and pepper scruff, the little spot that just won't fill in, it looks like a heart… you wonder if it's as soft and smooth as it looks and if he'd let you touch it to find out.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING 💚

Please consider commenting and reblogging. If you are interested in reading more of my writing, you can find my masterlist here. If you would like to be notified when i post more work, you can find my taglist form here.

[baronessvonglitter]

Cherry, Cherry 🍒 Chapter 13 🍒

"Rough Ride"

pre-outbreak! AU!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: 6,978

Summary: after sneaking around, Joel takes you on your first official date -- okay, so it's a little hole-in-the-wall bar the next county over. Just as a perfect night comes to an end, you see Joel's jealous side for the first time, and it leaves you craving more.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, age gap (reader is 18, Joel is 35), takes place summer 2003, reader wears a dress and thong, groping, TW for unwanted grabbing (from a stranger), fistfight (Joel & stranger), jealous!Joel, Joel grabs reader, dubcon, rough sex, unprotected piv/creampie, mention of emergency contraceptive, anal, no use of y/n, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

Author's note: this is the chapter that shows a darker side to Joel's personality. Please heed the tags. If this is not something you are in a good headspace to read then please skip.

Series Masterlist

It's almost a cruel kind of existence, to be so close yet so far from Joel. You're back to reality, doing the same mundane things you did before. Only now you look upon everything with a kind of wisdom, baptized with a secret knowledge that you can't tell anyone about, though you want to shout to the heavens how much in love you are with a certain Joel Miller.

You find time here and there to be together, mostly at your house when your cousin's gone. It's a thrill you never tire of, to be with him in this way, to meld your bodies together, sometimes slowly, savoring the feel of each other, other times a quick, impetuous coupling in the darkness of his living room or in his truck. He says you make him feel like a teenager again.

"I want to go on a date with you," you tell him one night, your arms wrapped around him as he picks you up from your shift at the cafe. You both lean against the truck in the empty parking lot. "I'm always hearing about everyone else's dates and we haven't gone on one yet."

Joel smiles and kisses the top of your head. "And where would you like to go?"

"Let's go out dancing," you say. "I'm dying to see you all dressed up."

"I ain't much of a dancer, sweetheart," he says, and when you look up at him you see him visibly blush. "Pretty sure my moves might even shock ya."

"Come on, Joel, it can't be that bad," you laugh. "Besides, I'm more interested in slow dancing with you." To tease him a little you softly grind your hips against his, and your heart feels like it's on springs when you feel him start to twitch and harden in his jeans.

"In that case I'm game. There's a little place about twenty miles south.. we're not bound to run into anyone we know." He kisses your hair again, smells the sweet mixture of coffee and your natural scent.

Joel picks you up on a Saturday night. You've dressed for the occasion in a sundress and cowboy boots, and your heart throbs to see the hunger in his eyes as he takes in your appearance. He doesn't look so bad himself in a long sleeve button down shirt and a pair of Wranglers with boots of his own. "No hat?" you tease him as he opens the truck door for you.

"I'm not much of a hat man," he grumbles, giving your ass a little grab as you climb into the passenger seat. "You look amazin' by the way."

"So do you." Grinning, you settle into the seat as he gets in and you take off. "I'm not used to seeing you all dressed up."

He laughs a little. "Well, I don't get dressed up all that much, but I'll do it for you." Once he's settled into the direction you're going, his eyes dart over to you. "I just love lookin' at ya."

Your hand is on his lap as he drives, and he laces his fingers with yours. "And I love looking at you," you lean your head against the headrest and smile at him. The drive doesn't take very long, and your excitement only helps to distract you.

The town's welcome sign is so rusted you can't make out the name. In contrast the honky-tonk is small, but well-lit and in an older neighborhood. The parking lot is full and Joel has to park a further way down, but neither of you mind. It's a beautiful, if sweltering night and you walk together with your arms around one another's waists.

Inside, the little saloon is brimming over with people. Couples are on the dance floor as an old-fashioned jukebox provides the music. A place like this doesn't even have a DJ, which you find so charming, There's no one at the door to card you, probably because there's so many people, and because you look more mature paired with Joel. "I'm gonna get a beer first, you want anything?" he asks, lips close to your ear.

"Gin and tonic," you tell him, simply because you heard someone order it in a movie and it sounds good.

"Like hell," he shakes his head. "You ain't drinkin' that kinda stuff til you're old enough."

"Fine," you playfully roll your eyes. "A Shirley Temple, then. I'll find us a seat."

While he's at the bar, you look around, taking in the white lights strung up from the beams, the couples dancing boisterously to an Alan Jackson song, the scent of cigarette smoke and beer, the raucous laughter in the air, the feeling that you've stepped into another world altogether.

Glancing around you see a guy who looks only a few years older than yourself, tall, lean, in complete western wear. He catches your gaze and smiles, gives a little wink. You only smile and nod, not wanting to flirt with someone while you're waiting for Joel. When he returns with your drinks the other guy turns his attention elsewhere.

You sip your drink as Joel puts his arm around you, and you lean into his shoulder. He can barely take his eyes off you. You return his gaze, meeting him halfway as his lips press to yours, tasting the sweetness of the grenadine from your drink. "I shoulda meet you sooner," he murmurs, his lips millimeters from yours.

"If you met me any sooner our relationship would be illegal," you tease him, enjoying the redness that flushes over his cheeks. "But I know what you mean," you add in a whisper.

"You know it ain't like that," he tries to explain. "Sweetheart I'd love you if you were 28, or 38, or 48.."

You kiss him to stop his deluge of words. "Finish your beer and let's take a look at the jukebox," you tell him, and when he's done he takes your hand and follows you to the jukebox and check out the songs together.

"What song you want?" he asks, his hand stroking your lower back as he kisses the top of your head.

"Depends. Do you know how to two-step?"

"Of course. What kinda question is that?" But he's blushing and you know he's not telling the truth.

"Good!" You call his bluff and put a quarter in the jukebox, pressing the button for "Small Town Saturday Night" by Hal Ketchum. Joel's eyes light up as you bring him out to the dance floor. "You sure you know how?" you ask, after a couple minutes of him awkwardly shuffling his feet compared to your practiced steps.

"I did warn you earlier that dancin' ain't my strong suit," he chuckles, relieved when you shift to a more basic dance with him.

"I know what your strong suit is," you murmur, earning a wink from him and a squeeze of your ass. "Follow my lead." You do the steps a little slower, showing him how to mirror your movements, and he does get better, but each time he tries to take the lead you take it back with a smile. "It's not a very easy dance," you tell him as the song winds down. "Maybe the next one can be a slow one? You choose the song."

He puts a coin in and takes a moment before selecting "Amazed" by Lonestar. It's one of your favorites, and you smile at him as he grabs your hand and leads you back out to the dance floor. His arms around your waist and yours around his shoulders, it's like there's no one else in the room as you move together in a slow dance. The magic between you is undeniable.

"I love you," he says, gripping you tightly, watching the lights overhead glimmer across your beautiful face.

"I love you too, Joel," you reply, reaching up to kiss him.

"I swear I'll never stop lovin' you," he whispers, his hands cupping your face, committing every detail of this moment to memory.

A blissful little smile on your face, you kiss him again. "Good. Because I plan on loving you for the rest of my life." You gaze up at him, heart skipping a beat. "In fact, I've been thinking.. maybe we should tell Sarah about us.. I don't like us keeping this secret from her. She's old enough to know the truth."

Joel looks deep in thought, brows creased. "I don't know.. maybe. We'll talk about it tomorrow?"

"Of course," you agree, fingers stroking his hair.

Soon enough you're not even dancing anymore, just swaying and kissing, barely aware of the other couples dancing around you. It's as close to heaven as you can get on this earth. His hands gently squeeze your ass, kneading your cheeks as they slide beneath the hem of your dress. "No panties?" he whispers, automatically pressing his pelvis to yours.

"A G-string," you tease him, giggling a little as he lightly snaps the waistband against your skin.

"You're gonna give me a heart attack, woman," he sighs and kisses your hair. "Let's get outta here.."

It's a tempting thought, and of course you're willing to drop everything and go home with him immediately, but you also want to take advantage of this moment. "Just a couple more dances. Please? We came out all this way. Who knows when we'll get the chance again?"

The song ends; he tips up your chin and kisses you softly. "All right, whatever babygirl wants. I'm gonna head to the men's room real quick then us another round of drinks. I'll put on somethin' for us, maybe some Garth Brooks." He winks at you, walking you back to your table before he leaves.

As far as first dates go, this one is the best. You feel good, you're in love, and you know that Joel is going to leave you a sopping, quivering mess later tonight. There's nothing better than this.

You're finishing the dregs of your Shirley Temple and using the straw to scoop out the maraschino cherry when someone arrives at your booth but it's not Joel. It's the guy who was checking you out earlier.

"Hey there beautiful, you wanna dance?" he asks.

It takes you a second to realize he's actually talking to you. "Uh, no thanks, but I appreciate it. I'm actually here with my boyfriend." It feels good to say it, even if it's only to a stranger.

He just gives a wry smile. "That so? I don't see him around."

Your smile remains polite even though you could kill him with your eyes. "It doesn't matter if he's right next to me or all the way in Timbuktu. I said no thanks."

"I don't know why he's fool enough to leave a pretty young thing like you by your lonesome," he persists, and it's irritating.

"You don't get the hint, do you?" As you emit your snide remark you scan the saloon for Joel, and see his tall, broad, sauntering figure heading towards the bar. Ignoring the idiot trying to hit on you, you leave the booth, not wanting to be cornered, and make your way across the dance floor to Joel.

Suddenly the stranger grabs you and presses you to him in a lewd and suggestive manner. "Get the fuck off me!" you shout, but you're barely heard over the music. His grip is tight and as you're pressed up close you feel his hardness. A wave of nausea surges in your gut.

"What the fuck is goin' on? Get the hell away from her!" Joel shouts, saving you by pulling you away from the man's grasp. You're grateful until you catch the look in his eye, full of anger and blame. At you. You get out of the way before he pushes the other guy, who stumbles back but catches himself.

"You're gonna be sorry you did that," the other guy slurs, rearing back to throw a punch but Joel is quicker and lands his punch first, sending the other guy sprawling.

"Joel!" you shriek, but it's lost in the hubbub that ensues as Joel pummels the guy, beating him nearly to a pulp. You know better than to intervene and risk getting hit yourself, but even if you could, you're frozen to the spot in disbelief.

Security comes and manages to pry Joel off the guy, but the damage is done. The other guy is groaning, blood spurting from his nose and mouth, and more of that blood is on Joel's knuckles. He's promptly kicked out, shrugging off the security guards who try to escort him outside. He grabs onto your wrist, dragging you with him. You've never seen him this angry.

The night is hot, sweltering, but a cold sweat forms on your brow as Joel, in silence, leads you back to the truck. His hand is wrapped around your wrist pretty tightly. "Joel what the fuck did you do that for?"

"You defendin' that asshole?" he mutters, not easing up on his grip as he walks quickly with you in tow.

"Let up, will you?" you whine. "I'm not defending anyone, but that guy was obviously just a drunk idiot. You could've just pushed him away from me and be done with it."

"Looked like you were actually enjoyin' yourself. I didn't see you strugglin' in his arms." He looks down at you with a cold stare.

You're so shocked you can only stare back, not believing what's actually going on. "You're fucking kidding me, right? I was petrified!"

"Sure you were," he mutters, still dragging you past the parking lot and to the secluded area where you had to park.

"Joel," you grunt again, your heart starting to pound like a jackhammer at the way he's treating you. "You're hurting me!"

"Quiet," he grumbles. "You don't know what pain is." As if he hasn't manhandled you all the way out here to the truck, like a gentleman he opens the passenger side for you. You start to climb in but his hand presses against your back, bending you over.

"What-" your startled question is cut off as Joel uses his free hand to lift the hem of your short dress, revealing your ass to him. Blush reddens your face, and much to your surprise you start to get wet. He just has that effect on you.

"Can't believe he was grabbin' on ya while ya had this little thing on." He snaps the strap of your G-string and you whimper at the sweet sting. "Don't think I can't see that glistenin' lil' pussy between your thighs. You get all wet for that sumbitch?"

"No," you shake your head, starting to feel dizzy with pleasure, with confusion, even a little bit of fear. "Only you."

Joel just grunts and abruptly digs his fingers into your cunt, causing you to cry out.

"Really? All this for me? Don't want nobody else to touch ya?"

You shake your head, too many words and needful moans crowding your throat. "Just you," you croak out.

He starts moving his hand, roughly, and the hand pressing your back now squeezes your ass, grabbing it, and then you feel a sting as he spanks you. You gasp, body moving forward as he spanks you again, rubbing your cheek as if to ease the sting right before he does it again, all while he fucks you with his other hand, feeling you coat his fingers with your juices. You hear him unbuckle his belt and there's the sound of clothing being moved and shifted aside. He moves your right leg up so that you're stepping on the running board, then he's hot and hard at the opening of your cunt, pushing in his broad tip.

"Beg for it," he growls in your ear, his hand pulling at your hair.

Your heart throbs so fast you worry it'll just explode. "Fuck me please," you whimper, body tense and taut as wire.

He shoves your G-string to the side and rams himself into you, both of you crying out, and then he begins to fuck you, mercilessly, hands gripping your hips as he drives into you. He's deep and rough, all previous gentleness lost in the intensity of the moment. But damn it if you don't press back against him, eager for more of him, showing him you can take anything he's got.

"You're mine, got that?" he rasps in your ear. "Mine to fuck any damn time I please."

"Joel," you whimper as he pushes in especially deep, so deep you can feel him in your belly. "Fuck.." He stays there, pressed deep against you, purposefully, as if to embed himself into your very soul.

"This is exactly what my little slut needs, ain't it?" He pulls out slowly then slams back in. "This is what keeps her in line. This is what she gets for wearin' a little nothin' dress with little nothin' panties underneath, dancin' with other men while my back is turned."

His words hurt more than the actual slamming of his cock into your willing body. "I wasn't," you gasp.

"The hell you weren't," he mutters, and grabs your arms, pinning them behind your back, as he uses them for leverage, speeding up, fucking you like he hates you. You wail into the interior of the truck, which moves vigorously with Joel's forceful movements.

"Joel!!" It's a supplication, a reverence, and you don't know if you want him to stop or to keep going, but he lifts you up against him, your back flush to his broad chest, and he tears the buttons off the front of your dress, pulling down your bra and exposing your breasts to his hands, which grab them with his rough touch while his hips ruthlessly pound against you from the back. In a maddening surge of animalistic lust your cunt clenches around him as you come, your hands steadying yourself on the edge of the passenger seat. Your mind goes blank as you get caught up in the intense pleasure. Joel grunts and thrusts more quickly against you, pinning you forward on the seat again, his hips pounding forcefully against you. You know this rhythm, you're familiar with the movement of his body as he's about to come, and you try to pull yourself up but he's stronger. "Joel, don't you dare--" you're cut off with a long, low groan as you feel the warm eruption of his come deep inside you, and you're shocked how your body reacts by milking his orgasm with another of your own. He fills you up, his hips eventually slowing to a rest as he sags over you, his panting breath hot in your ear. "Jesus," you whisper, at the same time as he growls, "Fuck."

He pulls away from you and realization sets in for him. His cum is trickling down your inner thighs. And though a primal part of him has been craving to see it, he also knows he fucked up. "Wait," he tells you as you get back up. From the glove compartment he grabs some napkins from a fast-food place and carefully cleans you up. You wince a little, just now feeling the soreness between your legs. "I'm sorry," he says, he voice low and full of shame. "I didn't mean to. I just.."

You don't know what to say as he's wiping himself away from you. Even when you weren't being careful, you were somewhat careful by him pulling out. And this was just carelessness. You hear him saying something, but there's a ringing in your ears, and all you can concentrate on is the warm, squishy feeling in your cunt.

Joel helps you into the seat and gets into the driver's side once you're both properly put together and buttoned up. Within minutes you're on the road, heading back towards Austin. Joel's mouth is dry as his mind plays over what happened. He took you the way he'd take a random woman on a one night stand. He projected his jealousies and insecurities onto you when you were innocent in all this. He has no words for you that can suffice to make things better. To drown out the silence he puts on the radio. A Faith Hill song, staticky at first, fills the air.

You can kiss me in the moonlight On the rooftop under the sky, or You can kiss me with the windows open While the rain comes pouring inside Kiss me in sweet slow motion Let's let every thing slide You got me floating, you got me flying

"I need to get the morning after pill," you tell him, only comfortable while the music is playing.

Joel nods, eyes flicking to you nervously. "There ain't any drugstores open right now. I'll get it for ya in the mornin'."

You're quiet, watching the white of the lane markers disappear, in stark contrast against he black of the road. So few cars are out. "Are you okay to drive?" you ask as you pass a police cruiser.

He looks at you for a moment. "I only had two beers, I'm good." Even in the dim light of the truck you can see Joel is pale, not looking like himself. Nothing about this night has shown the Joel you've come to know and love deeply.

It seems like forever until you reach your neighborhood, and instead of pulling up to your driveway he pulls into his. Tommy’s truck is still there, and the lights in the house are still on.

“I’m gonna take care of ya,” Joel mutters, gently combing his fingers through your hair. You lean into his touch like a shelter pet seeking affection.

He lifts you out of the truck. The skirt of your sundress is stained and sticky with his come, but he picks you up and carries you bridal style towards the house.

Inside, Tommy and Sarah are playing a board game, looking up with expectant smiles as Joel walks in with you, and then their expressions turn serious. "Is she okay?" Sarah asks, getting up from her seat.

"She's fine, just a little ill." Joel says, bringing you upstairs. "Tommy, you can get yourself home," he says over his shoulder. "And don't tell your little girlfriend Sofia nothin'!" he warns. You remember that you and Joel were supposed to sleep over at your house tonight while she's working, but he's brought you here instead. He only sets you down once you're in his room, perching you on the bed and removing your boots and socks before he gets a bath running in his adjoining bathroom. You're in a daze with the night's events still fresh in your mind, and just go with the flow. Joel is treating you with utmost tenderness and you let him.

Sarah takes a peek in and you give her what you hope is a normal smile. "Tommy just left. Are you okay?" she asks after a beat.

You flash back to just an hour earlier, when Sarah's dad pounded you from behind, accusing you of cheating, or at least wanting to cheat, and how you can still feel the remnants of him leaking out of you. Jesus, you'd never tell her the truth.

"Yeah," you answer her, just as Joel comes out. The bathroom is already steamy from the hot water.

"To bed," he tells Sarah, and she lingers just a moment, as if deciding to disobey or not, before she finally goes to her room. Joel locks the door. "Come on, sweetheart," he murmurs to you, lifting you from the bed and bringing you into the bathroom. He gently undresses you, peeling your dress over your head, and your stomach flutters as he pulls down your underwear, the tiny scrap of material you'd hoped to surprise him with tonight. "Are you okay? Does anything hurt?" The look on his face is one you've never seen before: one of absolute concern, almost as if he were your own father, looking out for you after your first broken heart.

"I'm fine," you manage to smile. "You don't have to do all this for me.."

He shakes his head and helps you step into the warm tub. Sleeves rolled up, he gets a bath sponge and adds some soap, then gently glides the sponge across your skin. You haven't been treated to such luxury since you were a kid, suffering with congestion, and your mom would sit with you in the steam of a hot shower to loosen the crud in your lungs.

Joel's touch is gentle, brushing across your chest, slowly over your breasts, smiling a little at the sigh you give, watching your nipples rise to attention. He's in no hurry as he continues over your belly, down between your legs as softly as possible, wiping away his residue drying on your thighs. You give a little murmur, keeping his hand there, and he simply follows your lead. He drops the sponge and traces his bare fingers over your flesh. "Are you sure?" he asks, more than ready to do what you want him to, but he's already crossed the line in more ways than one tonight.

"Yes," is your breathy response, bringing his hand where you want it most, and he obliges, tracing your folds, gliding across your crease and finding you already slick. He closes his eyes, still feeling how you resisted earlier that night, still tasting the fear in your kiss as well. It gives him pause until you move his hand for him.

You're still just a kid, you don't know what you want he wants to say. He wants to scold you for wanting him, and even more, he knows he deserves to suffer for bringing you to this point. But the words are stuck in his throat, leaving a burning there that he bears in silence.

He loves you. He can't let you go. And he knows he doesn't deserve to keep you.

"Joel.." your voice breaks through his pensive thoughts, and when he doesn't answer right away he almost lets out a gasp as you rise up and pull him towards you by his shirt, kissing him fiercely. There's no point in resisting you. You're naked, skin soft and slippery from the soap. He grabs you and lifts you out of the tub, pulling you to him, wrapping you softly in a fluffy towel. You're not quite dry as he brings you to the bed, peppering your face and neck with kisses. "Babygirl," he mutters, gently kissing away the tiny rivulets of bathwater that drip down your skin, drying you off with his tongue, smiling as your skin jumps in reaction. From the delicate cleft between your collarbones, down towards your breasts, lapping up any stray droplets of your bathwater with his tongue.

Your cunt clenches in anticipation, breath growing heavy with the need to moan. Your eyes nearly roll back in your head as Joel's tongue swirls around each nipple, cupping each breast, running his thumb over your stiffened peaks. Already your thighs start to shake, and he grips them in his strong hands. "You're so responsive, baby.. I'm only halfway there.."

He's determined to take his time, as atonement for his earlier crudeness, his rough liberties with your body. He intends to soothe your ache with his kisses, with lips and tongue, wherever you need them, wherever you want them. You've put up with his brutishness, and now you're getting his gentleness.

He follows the patterns the droplets trace down your skin, gently nipping at your soft skin with his teeth, glancing up quickly to see if the moan you give is one of pleasure, and continues his path, smiling to himself as you whimper and shake, murmuring his name. To him, there's never been a sweeter sound, one that he savors as he finds his way down to your trembling thighs. He gently lifts them, his hard cock twitching as he hears your breath catch in your throat.

As he kisses the soft crease between your torso and thigh, he works at undoing his jeans, quickly undoing his belt buckle and freeing himself from the confines of his boxers. He eagerly takes himself in his hand as his tongue flicks over your sweet wet cunt, his hot breath on your sensitive flesh making you gasp. He hasn't had to handle himself since you started sleeping together, but he's resolved to make you come apart using his hands, his mouth. He'll handle his own pleasure until he's worthy enough to be inside you again.

Your hips lift to meet his ravenous lips and tongue, trying your damnedest to be quiet but a few squeals, a few gasps of excitement escape, and you know you'll be heard. You don't care.

Joel's tongue swirls over your clit, sending a beautiful shock that zips from your brain to your heart. You gasp and buck against him, fingers grabbing his hair. He shudders at the sensation, groaning against your flesh as his tongue dances over your heated skin, tasting you with a primal need. He fucks his fist eagerly, imagining it's your sugar walls wrapped around him, making him twitch and jerk in anticipation of cumming.

"Don't stop, don't stop," you whisper, begging for the continuation of this savage pleasure. He growls in response, not breaking the contact between his mouth and your cunt, his tongue and lips worshiping every inch of your quivering flesh. "Never," he whispers fiercely, his voice a guttural snarl. He takes his hand away from his over-sensitive cock for a moment to concentrate on you. "You taste so damn good, babygirl.."

"Fuck!" you whimper as your legs quiver. Joel is relentless in his ministrations, working tirelessly to drive you over the edge. His large, rough hands grip your thighs, holding you in place as his mouth works its magic, his own need growing with every moan, every shiver that racks your body. "Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod!" you say behind your own palms pressed to your mouth in a desperate bid for keeping quiet. Your hips lift up and Joel can feel your body tensing, the sweet sounds of pleasure spilling from your lips, the scent of your arousal filling his senses.

It's like lightning when you come, the pleasure uncoiling itself from the pit of your stomach as Joel continues, feeling your body shudder with every lap of his tongue. His body strains with the efforts of keeping himself in check. He strokes himself with newfound vigor, spurred on by your sweet-sounding moans, the beautiful sight of you laid bare, wrecked by your pleasure, your pussy pink, sensitive, and very drenched. He comes, a little of it landing on your thigh. He takes off his shirt and uses it to clean you up, gentle on your skin, murmuring his love for you. Getting undressed down to just his boxers, he spoons you, gathering your body against his, kissing your hair, hands caressing yours, hoping his love for you will erase whatever bad you think of him.

Not until the wee hours of the morning do both of you finally get to sleep. Waking up later, your body throbs, a pleasant soreness all over. You recall the night before, both the bad and the soft parts. Without one, you couldn't really have the other.

When you turn to face Joel he's not there. His side of the bed is empty, his spot cold and made up. You sit up, gathering the sheets around you. From downstairs there's the sound of the radio, or the TV, you can't tell, and Sarah's voice as she talks to someone. You feel a jolt of relief when you realize it's Joel, his deep voice booming in response.

Dressed in one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers, you join them in the kitchen, shyly, as if you've never been a guest in their home before. They turn to you, and you meet Sarah's questioning eyes. "Good morning," is all you say.

"You're just in time, breakfast is ready," Joel announces, in a particularly goofy mood this morning. He does a double take, seeing you in his clothes, and you notice his gaze darken. He has to rein himself in while Sarah's in the room.

"Are you feeling okay?" she asks, and you can see she's bursting at the seams with questions about your night before you came home with her dad.

"Yeah, great," you find it impossible to stop a blush on your cheeks. As she goes to set the table, Joel takes your arm, presses a small kiss to the top of your head. "You should take your pill after you eat. I left it in the medicine cabinet in my bathroom," he whispers, letting go of you just as Sarah returns for silverware.

It's a nice, quiet morning. Joel made bagel breakfast sandwiches and too much bacon (as usual) and Sarah cut up fresh melon and strawberries. "You should have woke me up. I'd have been happy to help make breakfast," you tell them.

"Nonsense. You're our guest." Joel smiles fondly at you, and his glance flickers to Sarah. Your stomach does a flip flop as you worry that he's going to drop the bomb on her right now. But it would be the perfect time to tell her about your relationship, wouldn't it?

You feel a mix of relief and, oddly, disappointment as he changes the subject. The story is that yes, he took you out dancing, and yes, he got in a fight with someone who was harassing you. His knuckles are bruised, but that's the extent of the damage he took. Something about those bruises gets you wet. Joel was completely feral that night, and then tender afterwards. You admit to yourself you'd like to see that wild side again, and it shocks you.

Sarah just shakes her head at how bull-headed her dad can be. He's not violent, but he has that capacity and you witnessed it firsthand. She gives him a lecture, actually scolds him for his actions, and Joel nods, either going along with it or really taking her words to heart. Either way, you start to see that his own daughter takes the lead sometimes. She takes care of him, you realize, smiling as your heart melts at this scene.

Once you're full, Sarah asks if you want to hang out, go to the mall, the park, anything. "Maybe later," you tell her, catching Joel's look over her shoulder. It's a relief when she agrees, and gets ready to leave with friends for the time being.

"What should we do today?" you ask, getting up to rinse the dishes. Joel stops you in your tracks. "Hey, I'll do that. You go relax." He dares a kiss while you're alone. "I didn't tell you how good you look in my clothes, babygirl.. it's makin' me think all kinds of thoughts.." His hands are on your waist, drifting down to your hips as he nuzzles your neck.

"I'm thinking movies.. and sex. Lots of sex," you grin, turned on at the thought of having him to yourself for the rest of the day.

"Are you sure?" he asks, brow furrowed even as his face turns pink with desire. "I think we should talk about last night."

"Okay," you nod, arms crossed as you lean against the sink. "Don't ever do what you did, ever again." Your voice is stern, and part of you is pleased when Joel looks chagrined.

"I know. I'm sorry. Sometimes I forget how new you are to all this, to.. being with me," he whispers, darting a glance towards the stairs on the lookout for Sarah. He rubs your arms. "I'm sorry. I won't be rough with you like that again."

"What?" Your filled with confusion. "No, not that. I meant you should apologize for accusing me of flirting with that idiot at the bar. You know I don't care about anyone else but you, Joel.."

It's his turn to look puzzled. "That's the part you're mad about, not the.. the rough stuff?"

"Turns out I didn't mind the rough stuff as much as I thought I would," your smile is askew.

There's a darkness in Joel's eyes when you say that, and it stirs your soul as he pulls you close. "I apologize for sayin' you were lettin' that asshole put his hands on ya. I was crazy jealous. You were turnin' a lotta heads last night."

"I was not," you giggle, pressing your lips to his shoulder.

"You were, and it made me proud and possessive at the same time." He sighs. "I shoulda handled myself better."

You kiss his cheek, savoring the little sigh he gives as he closes his eyes. "I forgive you.." You pull away slightly, fingertips stroking the stubble on his jaw. "This was our first argument as a couple."

"I hope it's the last," he says, bringing you close for a kiss on the lips.

With Sarah out for awhile, you settle in for a movie, take your morning after pill with a glass of water, and rest your head on Joel's lap as you watch Tombstone.

The tale of the old west has you absorbed, though you've seen this movie at least fifty times since you were a kid, mostly with your dad when you were younger. You feel Joel's thumb delicately swiping over your cheek, his hand smoothing over the dip and curve of your waist and hip. It's a comforting gesture that turns into one of playfulness, then desire.

His hand goes under your shirt, tracing patterns over your skin, creating goosebumps on your flesh. Your nipples harden and as if he can read your mind, he grazes his thumb in circles over the stiffened peaks. Your back arches, inviting more of his touch. Joel's touch grows possessive, fingers skating over your belly and down to your cunt, covered by his own pair of boxers. "That's the hottest thing ever, you wearin' my stuff," he says, his thick fingers teasing your folds, lightly skimming over your clit. You give a low whine as he teases you, circling your tiny bundle of nerves without actually putting pressure, then pressing just enough to make you want more before he takes the touch away again.

"Joel," you groan, and he quiets you with a kiss, pulling you up to him to sit on his lap. Your shirt is off, boxers pulled down. There's something more than the usual urgency that comes with your shared desire. Last night you crossed a line that can't be uncrossed, as if you've unlocked a new level of your relationship.

"On your back, darlin'," he says gruffly, getting up as you do so. He pauses the movie before going back to you, seeing you laid out on the couch. "Mine," he says, eyes taking in your body, from your innocent, beguiling eyes to the damp V between your legs. He sits in the splay of your legs and pulls your thighs over his, his cock jutting out through the hole in his boxers before he slides it in, his eyes flicking to your own, watching the look of astonishment there.

You feel vulnerable beneath him, and flashes of the previous night flitter through your mind. But you've made up your mind to trust him.

"You tell me if this feels uncomfortable, okay?" his voice is husky, almost a growl.

You tell him okay, breathing his name like an invocation, that same breath catching in your throat as you feel him gather up your wetness and spread it on your tight puckered asshole. Your question dies on your lips the moment you feel him start to move while his thumb circles your ass, gently delving in to tease, to test your limits. He thrusts again, deliberate and long strokes and still he gathers your wetness and uses it to press into your ass. "Is this okay, darlin'?" he asks, though your answer is already evident in the way your face scrunches in pleasure, the slight pull of your hips, welcoming him, even as you clasp around his invading fingers.

"That's my girl," Joel exhales, rocking steadily into your body. "Do you want more?"

"Mnh.." is all you're able to say until you force yourself to speak up. "Yes.." You gasp when he pounds into you faster, your hands on his forearms, nails digging into his skin. "Joel.. wait!" You shiver as he stops momentarily, a concerned look in his handsome dark eyes. "Remember, you can't come in me.." you tell him breathlessly.

"I won't," he smirks, thrusting slower than before as he gazes down at you, and you swear there's a look in his eyes that you've never seen before, not even from the previous night. You cry out as he leans down to take your nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue over the rising nipple as your hips rise up. He hovers over your lips as he starts to thrust forward, fast and hard, watching, waiting to see your reaction, to see that one split second of worry.

When he knows he's about to explode he removes himself from your cunt then pressing just the first few inches of himself into your ass, loving the way your eyes get big, your face flushed with surprise. He gives a few shallow strokes before he comes, twitching as he grunts out his pleasure. When he pulls out, his leavings drip out of you.

"Joel.." you gasp, torn between being turned on and scandalized.

"Hang on, babygirl. I know you didn't come." He scoots down, letting your thighs bracket his head. "I didn't say I was done with you yet.."

<- prev chapter

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dividers by @saradika-graphics & @firefly-graphics

[sorchathered]

Sweet Home Texas pt 1.

Summary- it’s here! Chapter one of my new series/ my submission for my birthday Rom-Com challenge! I am straying from the plot of Sweet Home Alabama a bit but I hope you all love it!

Pairing-Jake “Hangman” Seresin x oc (Ella Mcree Seresin), Bradley Bradshaw x oc (Ella Mcree Seresin)

Warnings- language, drinking, eventual smut

Stepping out of her shitty rental car into the dimly lit honky tonk parking lot Ella Mccree can already feel the pain of a headache forming behind her eyes. She flew out from San Diego on a red eye to get to this shithole, filled with enough anger to fly the damn plane herself. She swore when she was here the last time that she would never set foot in this damn town again and yet here she is, pushing through the sweaty bodies of horn dog cowboys and navy pilots to find the bane of her existence.

He’s here of course, holding court by the pool tables, looking every bit the cocky asshole he presents himself to be. He’s always been a bit of a douche, that was part of his appeal; well until it wasn’t. She couldn't help the way her stomach flipped as she looked at him, the memories flooding her mind would make anyone blush. First kiss, first time, her first everything had been with Jake Seresin, he was supposed to be the only one, but that hadn’t worked out as planned. Nothing had where they were concerned.

She squared her shoulders, his pretty boy looks didn’t work on her anymore and she was here in this tacky bar for a reason, he wouldn’t distract her. In her ridiculously expensive pumps and form fitting black suit she marched over to him and dropped her briefcase in the middle of the pool table, a chorus of what the hells ringing out as she rounds on him, perfectly manicured finger poking him in the chest, shock clearly written all over his face before he schools his features. She’d caught him by surprise; good, maybe this time he’d actually listen.

“Jake! You stubborn redneck hick, I swear to God if I have to cut your damn hand off and sign these papers myself I will.” If he was phased by her colorful vocabulary he didn’t show it, simply throwing back the rest of his beer and sitting it on the corner of the nearest table as he looked her over, the mischief in his eyes evident in his gaze.

“Hey baby, it’s been a while. How’re things at home?” He said with a grin, knowing it would absolutely irritate the shit out of her, he loved riling her up, it was almost like he had a death wish sometimes but then again being an ex fighter pilot just confirmed that.

“Hey. Baby?! Are you kidding me right now?! Oooh!! You are the most annoying person on the planet!” She said shaking her head jerkily and balling her hands into fists, she needed to get it together. There was a reason to be here, get it done and get the hell out of this town, don’t let him distract you Ella you’re better than this.

Someone behind her said something to the extent of damn I like this girl and out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of a brunette woman sending impressed looks her way. Well at least someone was entertained, she thought.

She leaned across him to grab the papers from her briefcase, his body stiffening under her and she knew despite his cool exterior she had him rattled. She ran a hand across his uniform top, noticing the falter in his grin as he blinked at her and slammed the stack of papers into his chest.

“I have sent these damn papers through your lawyer 4 times in the past 6 months and they keep coming back unsigned, if you are so incompetent that you can’t use a pen, maybe you shouldn’t be allowed to fly a jet, given your lack of a brain. Sign the damn papers Jake, it’s been 3 years. You very clearly aren’t interested in being a husband so why the hell won't you just divorce me?”

Everyone around them seems to go quiet at this, none of his coworkers even knew he had been in a serious relationship, let alone married.

He sticks a toothpick between his lips and pretends to mull over her words as she taps her heel on the sticky bar floor. She already knows what he’s going to say, the same bullshit line he’s given her their entire life. “You know damn well why Ella Bella, because I promised to love you til the day you die and as far as I can tell you’re still breathin’ so we’re still married.”

She rakes a hand through her wavy red hair and gives him a look that could burn the world down. “If I could go back knowing what I know now I’d have never made that damn promise. Stop holding me hostage and sign the damn papers, I’m not leaving town until you do.” She yanks up her bag and stomps out towards the exit, everyone in the group parting like the Red Sea to let her out. Meanwhile Jake still seems cool as a cucumber, completely unbothered as he lines up his next shot and chuckles as he watches her walk out of the bar.

“Uh you planning on giving us an explanation Hangman?” Natasha Trace is the first to speak up, she does enjoy seeing him brought down a peg from time to time but she’s pretty sure she’s seen him more upset over what was for lunch at the dining facility than he is right now.

“Oh that? Eh she’ll be alright, Ella is all bark and no bite. She knows how much I love her, just gotta remind her is all, she and I will be just fine when she comes to her senses.” He seems awfully sure of himself, but she’d noticed something he clearly didn’t. A big ass diamond ring on her ring finger, no wedding band in sight. She has a thought to say something but thinks better of it; let him crash and burn all on his own and maybe invite the girl out for lunch and some gossip if she can find out her number. Jake’s hometown is just a few miles out from the Kingsville Navy base they’re stationed at, maybe an old friend of his has her info, she files that away for tomorrow’s problems and grabs another drink.

Ella is heated, she clumsily fumbles her keys by her car door as she curses, she knew he wouldn’t go for it but damnit if she didn’t hope he’d come to his senses. They’d been split for almost three years?! What was keeping him from letting her go? Pride? Idiocy?! She didn’t have time for this, she had plans of her own and they didn’t include begging her delusional husband for a divorce for the millionth time.

Her phone began to buzz in her pocket as she finally got the car unlocked and settled into the seat. She heaved a sigh out and put on her brightest smile, answering the face time call with fake enthusiasm.

“Well? How’d he take it?” the raspy voice on the other side of the line says, tan skin and bronze hair and those puppy dog eyes she loves so much gazes at her over the screen, and he can tell she’s pissed. “About as well as I thought. I’m gonna be here a few more days I reckon, maybe I can get one of them to get him to pull his head out of his ass, because it definitely didn’t work like I hoped.” She says the last words with a waver in her voice, she hates that she’s tearing up over this.

Bradley Bradshaw sighs over the screen and runs his hand over his face, he knew it wasn’t going to be as easy as she thought. “Need me to come down there? I can hop a flight? We can order a pizza and get trashed.”

As good as that sounds, his presence would only make it worse, and they both know it.

“No baby, it’s ok. I’ll see you soon alright? I just need to go to my hotel and sleep, I’ll try again tomorrow. Maybe call Natasha and see if she can help me with some intel though? She seemed pretty interested in what was going on, and might be an ally.”

He knows Natasha Trace well, and she definitely would be very helpful if he asked, so he nods his head in agreement and ends the call with I love yous and promises of a back rub when she gets home.

He knows the bomb that’s going to go off as soon as Seresin finds out everything, but he also knows the real reason Jake won’t give Ella what she wants. It’s guilt plain and simple, and Bradley isn’t interested in watching his fiancée get hurt by his former rival anymore. Only Ella knows the whole truth, but are either men ready for it?

A/N- this is gonna be a doozy y’all, prepare for these three to be put through the ringer! Next week we’ll get some more on Jake and Ella’s backstory and why they fell apart, hope you enjoyed chapter one!

🏷️ tagging- @attapullman @seitmai @bobgasm @sailor-aviator @jessicab1991 @roosterforme @bradshawssugarbaby @mynameismckenziemae

[theplottdump]

And Poppy's first rodeo-

𝙃𝙀𝙇𝙇𝙊 𝙍𝙀𝙋𝙐𝘽𝙇𝙄𝘾𝘼𝙉 𝙉𝘼𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉𝘼𝙇 𝘾𝙊𝙉𝙑𝙀𝙉𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉 !

Concurrently, a little over twenty feet away, the aged wooden doors that guarded the entrance to the Rusty Horseshoe Bar were thrown open with an unexpected and frankly unwarranted exuberance- nearly knocking said doors (and several weak-hearted patrons) right off their hinges.

The smell of cigarettes and old beer soaked floors filled the county bar; while the static twanging of honky tonk music being played through ten year old basegame speakers sidestepped and danced it's way around the now continued conversations of it's patrons.

All of this was- of course, thrown callously aside the instant Poppy locked eyes with the most beautiful creation to have ever graced her watcher-given simearth.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙈𝙚𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙡 𝘽𝙪𝙡𝙡.

Fuck whatever emotional soft shit Kate was going through right now. Love at first sight did exist- and 009 now knew she was put on this planet for one reason and one reason alone.

The Agent's normally eloquent and sharp-tongued little jaw went slack as it slammed into the floor with enough force to register on the richter scale- her whole body possessed by a 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵.

✨ 𝗜 𝗠𝗨𝗦𝗧 𝗥𝗜𝗗𝗘 𝗜𝗧 ✨

M: So while 009 works through whatever psychosis she's currently going through- wanna grab a table? Vera: With- 𝘺𝘰𝘶? M: Yeah, there's a free one in the corner that only looks a little sticky from here.

Vera: 𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧. A Group Table. 𝘈 𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘱. For surveillance right? M: Surveillance? Vera: To make sure Kate's date goes well? M: Uh, yeah- right. Surveillance. That uh, that sounds good too I guess.

Poppy: [ 𝙙𝙪𝙢𝙗 𝙜𝙞𝙜𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 ]

[sowritten]

TO WONG FOO, THANKS FOR EVERYTHING! JULIE NEWMAR

feel free to edit pronouns, etc. as needed

If we're going to be friends, there really is something I should tell you.

I can tell you one thing about them founding fathers of America; they sure had fabulous wigs.

Your approval is not needed.

I've waited my whole life to hear those words. And I'm very, very, very happy that you're the one to say them.

Nothin' this pretty could be real.

What in gay hell?

Looks like it's the age-old dilemma: style, or substance?

I think of you as an angel.

I think that's healthy!

Do you ever, like, not cry in this room?

Baby, you can have him.

I got a million dream lovers, alright?

I've got a broken heart for every light on Broadway. And when one of them goes out, I just screw in another one, okay, hello good-bye.

I'm the Latina Marilyn Monroe. I've got more legs than a bucket of chicken!

I didn't ask to come on this trip, did I? No, I don't think so!

As soon as we get to the next town I am jumping on the first man and riding him all the way to New York City and away from you 'cause this trip sucks! It sucks!

How do I look?

I don't know who he is, but if there's a snowstorm tonight, he's going on my tires.

Since you have obviously learned nothing, I am hereby stripping you of all your princess points.

I don't need a dream. I have a plan.

That might be all fine and dandy but you still have a lot more to learn.

Does everything have to be a joke with you?

This is not a masquerade! This is real life!

Oh, my God, I'm like a compass near north.

You have the potential of a lifetime and you are squandering it.

I want you to turn your swayback little self around on those Robert Clergerie Knockoffs and get back in this car.

Larger than life is just the right size.

No one is so rich as to throw away a friend.

I'll bet you were the brightest in your class, weren't you?

I feel like Miss Jayne Mansfield in this car.

You gotta take chances, because you never know, you know what I mean?

I'm not gonna worry about if people accept me or not.

I'm gonna make Hollywood wherever I am at.

I want you to believe in yourself, imagine good things and moisturize, I cannot stress this enough.

There are times when you help people, and then there are times when if you help people, you end up being killed.

Go on and talk to him, you speak honky!

This America does not respond kindly to our sort of person.

No one say anything frivolous for the next few moments.

I am having a significant experience.

Try to describe her and not use the word "statuesque".

I've had enough of this conversation, I'm hungry.

Let's just relax. It's gonna be alright.

A car? Mary Alice Louise, no. This is a land yacht.

How you gonna hitchhike if there are no cars, stupid?

I'm not rich, my parents are.

It's like living in a Tex Avery cartoon.

Live life before it lives you.

If you want them to know there is steak for dinner, you got to let them hear it sizzle! Understand?

You ruin my language and I still love you.

I think I'm gonna black out.

Why is he on the ground?

I am not going upstairs with you.

If you were my girl, you'd never cry for anything, except maybe for happiness.

I think tomorrow is a "Say Something" hat day.

Lets throw you a pity party.

You're gonna be second class and you're gonna be second rate your whole life.

Don't quote me but I think this one is decease-ed.

Actin' real proud of yourself just like a New York City girl.

I tell you where I'm going, I ain't going nowhere.

If I was your bread, would you be my butter?

[sixpennydame]

Hey hey hey bestie, I’m here for #24 with Jean.

ありがとうございます✨

Dee, my lovely, it's all your doing that I'm having a Jean moment to begin with! 楽しんでください！

Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy)

Cowboy!Jean x Fem!Reader

C/W: Slightly dom!reader, face sitting, NSFW, Minors Do Not Interact!!

You loved to hate Jean.

He was, without a doubt, the cockiest bronc rider on the pro rodeo circuit. And as much as you hated to admit it, it was for good reason. Jean almost made it look effortless; as the wild horse bounded out of the chute, kicking and bucking, Jean would hold on tight, leaning back and anchoring his feet into the stirrups. He would ride it out, the full eight seconds, every time. He knew he was the best, and he had no problem telling (and showing) everyone. It infuriated you.

As a barrel racer, you often saw him at the same rodeos, a gaggle of women always waiting for him. He'd take pictures of them and sign autographs - an arrogant smile on his face as one woman unbuttoned her shirt for him to sign her breasts.

God, you hated him.

But you also loved to fuck him.

The first time, the two of you were drunk and horny after both winning in your respective events. A group of you had ended up at a honky tonk joint in Cheyenne, Wyoming, and as he spun you around the dance floor, he pulled you close, his hand moving down to the small of your back as he asked to go back to your hotel room.

It just never stopped after that.

There's a knock at your door and you open it to see him there, an arm leaning on the door frame.

"Hey," is all he says before he saunters inside. The moment the door clicks closed, you're grabbing him by the shirt and pinning him to the wall. His hands start to unbutton your blouse as yours move down to his muscular ass that’s squeezed into his tight Wrangler jeans.

Clothes fly off and you push him onto the bed. "Please...sit on my face," he begs. His voice is soft and needy, and as you straddle his shoulders, moving slowly towards his face, he whimpers.

You hover just above his mouth and feel the heat of his breath on your intimate parts. "You want this?"

"Fuck yes," he responds, "I wanna taste you...wanna make you feel good." His rough hands wrap around your waist, resting at your hip bones, but he doesn't dare push you down on him because he knows..

..you're in control.

You lower onto his face and he immediately drags his tongue along your vulva. He’s precise - he knows your body by now and knows exactly the way to move to make you feel good. But that doesn’t mean you just sit there. You begin to slowly grind your hips back and forth and moans of pleasure from both of you fill the room. His hands grab at your breasts desperately as your hips move faster, then in a circular motion. The new movement causes his tongue to flirt around your clit, but when he finally latches on it, you stop. He sucks on your clit, switching between light and hard suction, and it causes you to grab onto his hair. You know that his cock is rock hard behind you, and a part of your wants so badly to reach back and touch him, but you and he both know that this is how the game is played.

Your pleasure is first and foremost.

Jean continues to suck on your clit and lap at your pussy until your legs start to shake and your climax washes over you. When you move back, his face is covered with your juices. “Shit, I love how you taste.” His hands move up and down your thighs. “What else do you want?”

You move further down and start rubbing your pussy on his cock, causing him to take in a deep breath. “Depends…is that the best you can do tonight?”

“My wild girl…I’ll let you do whatever you want. Use me all night long, if that’s what you want.”

You love it, watching Jean moan and writhe beneath you as you fuck him. Within the four walls of your hotel room, the cocky, arrogant bastard becomes your slave, willing to do whatever you want, for as long as you want it. You sit up and put your hands on his pecs, feeling his muscles tense, his body coated in a layer of sweat, his eyes watching your body as his cock disappears inside you again and again. He knows you won’t stop until he’s given you everything.

And both of you know this won’t be the last ride.

—//—

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[princeasimdiya12]

Return to Nyan Nyaight Love-A Happy Ending in Sight?

Before I begin my analysis for Episode 9's NNL segment, I would like to thank everyone who reblogged my previous post and left kind and wholesome compliments about my analysis. It really warms my heart that so many of you guys enjoyed my thoughts on these segments. Especially if they helped provide a clearer understanding of what thematic purpose they serve in the Bucchigiri series. I'm more than happy to help and I appreciate the compliments.

Secondly, I'd like to thank @saph-yells-into-the-void for providing a majority of screenshots for me to use. Even though you didn't mind not being credited, you still deserve it for these great screenshots!

So just as a quick recap, the NNL segments serve as a Greek Chorus as they parallel the main story of Bucchigiri by using the customer's relationship with Jasmine to symbolize various relations and plot events. This time, their relationship parallels the main relationship of the series: Arajin and Matakara.

Episode 9: A Heartfelt Reunion

The segment starts with the customer being nervous as usual about whether he should go in, only to hurry inside as to avoid being spotted by Arajin who's on his way to the bathhouse. The customer is greeted by the receptionist who is still uneasy with him avoiding Jasmine. And even the customer himself looks less indecisive and more somber when he's asking for Pu'er instead of Jasmine.

As I mentioned in the Episode 1 segment, the customer is meant to symbolize Arajin while the catboy receptionist represents the colorful delinquents that Arajin encounters. And even though the first episode had Jasmine stand in for Mahoro, this time she stands in for Matakara.

The receptionist describes Jasmine as being strong-willed, clingy, and too much at times. Many of which are traits that are associated with Matakara.

-While Episode 9 shows him slowly succumbing to Ichiya's twisted therapy sessions, it's worth noting that it's been several days since when he first merged with the Blue Genie til then. So it's worth noting that Matakara lasted a good while before succumbing to Ichiya's will. And even before that, it was his strong will that helped him become stronger and find a place among Minato Kai while also evading the shadows that constantly haunted him. His determination in becoming stronger helped him to evade those shadows; maybe not vanquish them but not to succumb to them either.

-The clingy and too much at times qualities seem to go hand in hand as most of Matakara's screentime has been spent trying to reconnect with Arajin while holding him on a pedestal. Even as Arajin kept pushing him away, Matakara still clinged on to his idealized version of his best friend. One who constantly inspired him to be a Honki person and do the impossible. The too much at times part also works since Mataraka just wouldn't stop gushing over Arajin to his other friends or tries to force Mahoro to talk with him about Arajin and his involvement in Siguma Squad. While is very much a sunshine puppy boy, he can be quite overbearing when it comes to his old friend.

As of the last episode, Arajin made his true feelings for Matakara painfully clear and how he wants to avoid him at all costs. Only now the rest of the cast have taken notice and how much it's effecting Matakara given his refusal to talk to his other friends Zabu and Sakigake mixed with him running away from home. It's become a serious problem and they're all worried about him.

Something peculiar about the receptionist's behavior, and the whole scene overall, is how it's played for dramedy.

The receptionist treats the customer abandoning Jasmine as something tragic and how badly it's effecting her. There's soft music at play as the receptionist speaks his heart out about the cat's distress and how only the customer can help her.

But at the same time, it's just so ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous! There's no reason that the receptionist should need to be so invested in the customer's preferences in cats. They haven't actually bonded with each other apart from letting the customer in so he can spend time with the cats and spend Lord knows how much money. This is his job so it shouldn't matter which cat some random, pathetic everyman chooses to play with since he's still getting paid rather handsomely at the end of the day.

But it does matter to him.

Maybe (as far as we know) the receptionist doesn't know the customer very well but he (supposedly) knows that Jasmine truly misses him and is miserable without him. The receptionist could try to make Jasmine feel better herself given that he sees her more often and knows more about her. But he knows that she holds the customer in his heart and implores him to go back to her.

And while the Minato Kai boys don't care much for Arajin or flat out tell Arajin to patch things up with Matakara, they do make it clear that their friend isn't doing so well after their falling out. He's in need of help and they unfortunately can't do anything about it given how they were brushed aside. And even Mahoro, who also happens to be a colorful character that Arajin met when he entered the Ichizu gang life, has also picked up on Mataraka's despair and wants him to feel better. She clearly doesn't care for Arajin but she knows how much he means to Matakara, someone who understands her when it comes to valuing an older brother figure. She even flat out orders Arajin to go see how he's doing.

Something to consider is that while the Minato Kai boys and Mahoro have their respective but serious scenes with Arajin, they still have their quirky (questionable in Mahoro's case) personalities at play. Such as Sakigake singing his heart out in the bathhouse with Arajin while in his birthday suit to Mahoro having a tea party with a blow up doll of her big brother before learning about Matakara's brother. They're still weird and silly but they show how much heart they have and how they can empathize with someone who's at their lowest. And while they might not be the best person to help out, they know that Arajin is the best person to help them out.

Just like how the customer is the best person to help out the upset cat. And what does he choose when he's asked a second time?

He loses his mopiness for just a moment, becomes slightly more confident and chooses his precious Jasmine. Much to the receptionist's jubilation.

I'm gonna be leaning on the optimistic side and say that this will foreshadow Arajin reconciling with Matakara.

As much as I find Arajin to be a detestable and disappointing human being, I will admit that he is capable of growth. Particularly with bonding with his old childhood friend.

Right after defeating Akutaro, we see Arajin help out a grievously wounded Matakara while mildly complaining about it. We see them being on speaking terms during the Pro Wrestling Episode and Arajin even took the time to teach him how to make gyoza. Not to mention that Arajin was also willing to stick around for Mitsukuni's Welcome Party. The guy is not a good person (ESPECIALLY towards women) but he is capable of becoming better. Maybe at a snail's pace, but it's possible.

And we see those glimpses of growth in Episode 9 with him secretly admitting that there was one person (Matakara) who actually would like his rock for a gift.

So I want to be an optimist and say that Arajin will be able to save Matakara from his despair and they'll reconcile. Maybe accepting that he took Matakra's feelings for granted and how he should have treated his former friend better. How he was acting like a dunderhead and how he doesn't expect to be forgiven after treating him like yesterday's trash. I don't know if the puppy boy will forgive and accept Arajin again so quickly after everything that's happened (it actually would make for an impressive writing choice if Matakara chose not to accept him right away but with their being hope that they'll be friends in the future) but their relationship status will be a hopeful one.

Random Thoughts

When the receptionist brought up how the customer has seen other cats, I had two thoughts in mind. The first is from the Group Date til now, the customer has seen other cats at NNL apart from Pu'er.

The second is that this could be an implied parallel to Ichiya. I don't have enough information since we don't know much about Honki People and the Pasts of the Two Genies, but it's possible that Ichiya has encountered other masters in the thousands of years from when he was human to the present. The other cats could have been masters that Ichiya encountered and tried to possess to take revenge against Senya. But as the receptionist claims, Jasmine kept waiting for the customer. In this case, Jasmine was Senya. Ichiya's oldest friend who still longs to see and reunite with him after so many years of separation and regret.

Another thing I want to bring up is how conclusive this segment feels. It feels like it was wrapping up the plotline between the customer and Jasmine. I find this odd since this happened in Episode 9 and we supposedly have three more episodes before Bucchigiri is officially over. Does that mean we won't get more NNL segments in the final 3? Or will we still get them but in different formats? Like an epilogue of the customer bonding with Jasmine (along with getting an official reveal of who she is) or maybe we get a new customer who's set up to meet another cat potentially foreshadowing a final plot point in the series.

And those would be my thoughts on this segment. No lie, I did not expect this to be this long. But given how conclusive this NNL segment was, I felt there was alot to say about this. And what did you guys think of this segment? As before, feel free to reblog this if you agree with what I wrote, disagree or have another interpretation for this scene. So if you think of something, please say that you know.

"Do you know? Do you know? Do you know what this means?"

[joels-golf-club]

Play Along

A/n: I'm writing this at literally 2 in the morning so this could very well be trash but we shall see. Okay so I hate the way I ended this but the rest is kinda cute so I'm posting it anyway, enjoy :)

All my works are 18+ MDI

Word count: 2K

Warnings: Literally just Joel being the best gentleman, Pre-Outbreak!Joel, Lowkey cliche, no use of Y/n, drinking, One creepy guy, reader is uncomfortable, slight unwanted touching, Joel (he always needs a warning), light swearing, I think that's it but lmk if I missed anything.

It was supposed to be a fun night out with your best friend that you hadn't seen in forever. The plan was to go out to a bar your friend liked, have a few drinks, and catch up on what you had missed in the time you two had been separated.

But that plan quickly went out the window. You both showed up and chatted for a while but your friend quickly found someone she deemed worthy of her time and went to the dance floor, leaving you to nurse another drink alone at the bar. That honestly wasn't bad at first. Your drink was about as good as you good get in the small honky tonk bar, the music wasn't bad, maybe a little twangy, but nothing horrible, but then he showed up.

You don't even remember his name, James? Jason? You couldn't remember but you do know that he asked you to dance, and being a few too many drinks deep you said yes. At first he kept a respectable distance between the two of you and his hands stayed high on your back and arms as you danced to the music, but after a song or two his hands began to wander and he pulled you closer. It wasn't terrible until he pulled you flush against him and ran his hot, wet mouth down your neck.

"Okay, I'm getting hot, I think I need another drink! Let go." You shouted over the music but he seemed determined to stay with you.

"It's not that hot in here, just one more song, come on! Then I can think of something else we can do." The innuendo wasn't lost on you and you quickly sobered up a bit. He made another grab for your arm but you pulled it away at the last second and searched the room for your friend with no luck. It seemed she had gone home with that guy, or at the very least disappeared somewhere with him.

"No, I'm actually here with someone so I'm just gonna go find him. This was fun though." You tried to be polite whilst your eyes bounced around the room in search for anywhere you could go, at this point you were almost completely sober and just wanted a way out of this situation.

"Bullshit! You were alone at that bar long before I got to you. Now don't be such a bitch and come over here again!" John or maybe Jackson shouted a little too near to your ear for comfort, causing you to immediately flinch away.

Then your eyes landed on him. Dark messy hair and broad shoulders in a tight green flannel connected to long legs covered in tight dirty jeans. His back was to you and you prayed he was really as alone here as he looked because you made a beeline to him while tossing a, "There's my friend!" over your shoulder. You could tell he followed after you but you just walked faster until you were right next to where the other man stood near the bar counter.

"There you are babe! I've been looking for you!" You called to him and threw your arms around his neck before whispering in his ear when he stiffened at your touch. "Please play along, this guy won't leave me alone." The man didn't answer but he relaxed and wrapped his arms around you for a few seconds before pulling back. By now, the other guy had reached the two of you and glared at the man who now had his arm over your shoulder.

"Hey darlin', been looking all over for you. Who's your friend?" He was playing along to your great relief and glared just as harshly at the unrelentless man before you.

"Oh, this is, uh, Jason-"

"John, actually, and who are you?" John, it turned out to be, cut you off and looked the other man up and down, sizing him up.

"I'm Joel, how do you know my girlfriend?" Joel, stared right back and kept his tone clipped and harsh. Joel was a little shorter, but he was broader and filled out his sleeves much more than John did, no doubt intimidating the creep.

"Girlfriend? This bitch? Yeah have fun with that..." John quickly trailed off as Joel's glare deepened and he took a threatening step forward at the harsh words. John quickly took the hint and turned around and sauntered back into the crowd with a scoff and one last glare aimed at you.

As soon as he was out of sight you slumped down into one of the two empty bar stools while Joel took the other. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry for that. He just wouldn't leave me alone and I lost my friend somewhere and she's kinda my ride but I think she left with some guy so I didn't know what to do. God, you really saved my ass, I don't know what would've happ-" Joel cut your rambling off with a short bark of laughter and shook her head. He smiled in amusement and held out his hand for you to shake.

"Don't worry about it, sweetheart. It was my pleasure, I'm glad I could help. I'm Joel." You gave him your name and shook his hand in return.

"Thank again, can I buy you a drink for that? Like I said, you really saved my ass there." You grinned as you offered but it dropped when he flagged the bartender down and ordered you a drink instead.

"How bout I buy you one since you seemed to have a shitty night? And you said your friend left? I can give you a ride home if you'd like, darlin'." Joel offered in a deep southern twang that had you blushing, though you blamed it on the alcohol still in your system.

You shook your head a smiled. "Don't worry about it, please, I'll just get an Uber or something. I can figure it out, you've already done so much for me tonight." Truth be told, you desperately wanted him to drive you home. Joel was hot, he was also kind and a gentleman, but you didn't want to intrude on his night even more so you declined his offer.

He however seemed to have other Ideas, he raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "You're really gonna call an Uber alone at night? For some reason that doesn't seem like the brightest idea to me."

"Oh and going home with a stranger is any better?" You shot back but Joel just grinned.

"But we aren't strangers. You know my name and I know yours, and according to people around us, we are dating. If you don't want me to take you home, I understand, but I really wouldn't mind at all, and it seems the safer option anyway." You thought over his offer and decided was he right. Calling an uber when you were tipsy, alone, and this late at night wasn't a good idea. You're other option was to somehow get your friend to give you a ride like planned, but she was nowhere to be seen in the bar and she hadn't responded to any of your texts other than one over an hour ago saying she went home with the guy she met.

"Alright, you can drive me home. But you're just dropping me off, alright." Joel nodded and raised his hands in surrender.

"You have my word, sweetheart. I will only take you home, unless you ask for anything else." He threw a cheeky wink in with the end of his sentenced, and that paired with the pet name in his drawl had you blushing from your neck to the tips of your ears. You only hoped he blamed it on the alcohol in your system and the heat of the bar, but the look in his eyes said he knew otherwise.

"Great. Um," You glanced at your phone and saw that it was way past midnight. You had been talking to Joel in between sips of your drinks for well over an hour by now. "It's getting pretty late, do you wanna head out now?"

"Sounds great, darlin'." He fished out his wallet from the back pocket of those unnecessarily tight jeans and threw a couple bills on the table. You tore your eyes away from his ass when he turned around and your blush deepened when you saw the small smirk on Joel's face, he definitely saw you staring. "Let's go then, I'm parked out front."

He led the way out the doors into the chilly night air and opened the passenger door of a shiny black pickup with a large smile across his face. You grinned and stepped up into the vehicle. "I guess chivalry really isn't dead."

Joel just chuckled and shook his head, "Just keepin' my momma proud, darlin'." He winked at you and shut your door before walking around to the driver door. You gave him your address and he turned on the radio quietly as he began to drive.

"Thank you again for everything, Joel. You don't know how much you've done for me tonight." You sheepishly stared at your hands in your lap, the buzz of your drinks wearing off and an odd sense of shame filling you.

You looked up, though, when he reached over and grabbed one of your hands in his much larger grip. His hand covered yours entirely and it was rough with callouses. You stared at the side of his face with your cheeks slightly pink when he spoke. "Darlin', you don't need to thank me. You don't ever deserve to feel unsafe anywhere and I'm extremely glad that I could help you out tonight."

Joel stopped talking then, but he still lightly held your hand in his, you could've pulled away if you wanted, but you just squeezed his hand and grinned. A slow country song came on over the radio and Joel turned up the music a few notches. Quietly he began to sing along.

His voice was deep and smooth with a little bit of a rasp. In short, it was beautiful. You stared at his mouth as it moved to form the shapes of the words. You must have looked insane staring at him like this but when he glanced over at you Joel only smiled softly and continued the song.

The song just barely ended when he pulled into your neighborhood and turned into your driveway. You frowned as the night came to a close and slowly began to unbuckle while Joel walked around the front of the car to open your door for you. "Here you are, sweetheart. It's been a great night for me, I hope it was for you too after everything."

You smiled and hopped down onto the pavement and walked with him to your front door where you tried to linger and build the confidence to ask for his number. "It was wonderful meeting and talking with you. Thank you for everything once again." Joel smiled and nodded his acknowledgment before you began to unlock the door and he turned and walked back to his truck.

You had just about closed the door when you heard your name called out. "Hey wait! you left this in my truck." Joel jogged up to your front door once again and handed you something, it looked like a napkin or a paper, but you didn't remember having it before. It must've just been in your pocket and fallen out or something, you reasoned.

"Oh thanks, I didn't even realize. Goodnight Joel." You finally forced yourself to not chicken out and stood on your tippy toes to press a soft kiss to his cheek before you turned and walked back into your house, just barely catching his own goodnight to you.

It was only after you heard his truck pull away and the sound of his engine fade that you looked down at the napkin he had handed you. Once you processed what it had written on it in a messy chicken scrawl you sat at your kitchen table and a large grin took over your face.

Here's my number so you can buy me that drink another time. - Joel.

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

you look like you love me

Fandom: Bullet Train

Pairing: Tangerine x Original Female Character

Characters: Tangerine, Lemon, Original Female Character [Clementine]

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 4606

Summary: I'm drunk and I'm ready to leave and you look like you love me.

Tags/Warnings: Kissing, Gun Shot Wounds, Near Death Experience, Not Canon, Tangerine Lives, Arguing, Guilt

Notes: the girl mindlessly scrolling through tiktok is me x

MASTERLISTS // TAG LIST // SONG LINK

‘No fucking chance,’ Tangerine said firmly earning a groan from his party.

‘Oh come on!’ Clementine whinged, a pout on her pinkened lips.

‘No,’ he said again.

‘Oh go on, don't be a spoil sport,’ Lemon said, rolling his eyes as Tangerine glared at him. As he took a sip of his pint he watched Clementine fold her arms across her chest, her pout growing bigger as if she were a child not getting her own way. Tangerine said, ‘oh don’t be like that.’

‘I just want to sing karaoke,’ she said, leaning up but not uncrossing her arms.

‘Sing it with Lemon then!’ he reasoned, gesturing at the man beside him. He’d leant back now watching the pair of them verbally spar. He knew there was no point in getting involved, they could, and would, hold their own and it was preferable they were taking chunks out of one another rather than setting their sights on him. In fact Clementine’s presence in their life had been a welcomed relief, someone else to bore the brunt of his brother's somewhat varying temper.

‘Oh I intend to but I want to do it with you too,’ the blonde replied before sighing and pleading, ‘oh come on it’s just a bit of fun.’

‘Not for everyone else in here considering I can't even sing,’ Tangerine retorted.

‘It’s karaoke you don’t have to be able to sing,’ she said. Tangerine scowled, his moustache twitching at the movement. It was always like this with her. She never let anything drop, always picking away at things until they ended up fighting or worse he gave up. Sometimes he had to for his own sanity but he couldn’t help it she just got under his skin.

But right now he had the energy to spar with her. This was their celebration of a job well done and though she had been the one to choose the establishment, a cheesy American style dive bar that hung bull horns from the walls and played honky tonk tunes despite being in the south of Berlin rather than Nashville, he was still determined to enjoy himself. The beer was good at least.

‘I don’t even know any country songs,’ he reasoned, ‘this was your fuckin idea remember.’

‘You must know one song,’ Lemon said, finally chirping up if only because the idea of seeing his brother on stage aglow with embarrassment made him giddy with excitement.

‘Do I look like a fuckin’ cowboy to you?’ Tangerine said, the vein in his forehead bulging as his brother weighed in.

‘Now that you mention it,’ Lemon said, gesturing to his brother’s moustache with amusement.

‘Do you want me to stab you?’ Tangerine grunted.

‘I’ll pick something easy I promise,’ Clementine said, hoping to steer the direction back towards the task at hand rather than letting the boys get bogged down squabbling, ‘please Tange.’

‘No,’ Tangerine said firmly, ‘I’ve already let you have your way with having us come to this fuckin’ dive as it is.’

‘Only because you had to,’ Lemon said, ‘it was one of her wishes.’

‘Yes thank you Lemon,’ Tangerine said, offering a tight smile his brother’s way though as he looked back at Clementine he found she was no longer pouting or pleading she was smiling, that infuriating, dazzling smile she had when she was about to get her own way or more importantly do something Tangerine didn’t want her to.

‘No,’ he shook his head, catching on faster than his brother who looked confused.

‘I’ve found my next one,’ she sing-songed, giggling as Lemon started laughing.

‘You’re not serious,’ he scoffed.

‘Deadly. Wish number four is for you to sing karaoke with me,’ she confirmed, making him groan which made her immediately wag a finger at him, ‘ah, ah, you know the rules. All wishes must be fulfilled as asked without protest or whining.’

‘Clem,’ Tangerine started but she was on a roll.

‘Or we can call the whole thing off and I’ll go back to-’ ‘Yes okay fine, fuck!’ he griped, running his hand over his mouth to stem his irritation. But just as she started to celebrate he pointed at her and said, ‘but you’re using them up quick and once they’re gone I don’t to hear want a fuckin’ word you hear?’

‘Loud and clear,’ she smirked as she rose from the table, swaying as the alcohol in her system rushed to her head, ‘I’m gonna go and tell the DJ we’d like to sign up. Back in a minute.’

As she sashayed away smugly he felt Lemon looking at him with a smirk on his face. Tangerine merely held a hand up to silence whatever was going to come out of the other man’s mouth, taking a long drink of his beer as he watched her talking to the DJ in his booth.

One song that’s all he had to do. One song and it was another wish over. One song and she

only had one more insane request left though as he thought about it he tried to remember why he’d agreed to this wish system in the first place. 

‘I need a drink,’ Tangerine sighed. They hadn’t even gotten off the ground yet, he could still hear the pilot doing his rigorous take off checks from the cockpit just ahead of them, but he needed something to take the edge off. He’d been edgy since they’d finished the job, adamant they needed to get the first flight out of Osaka. It was probably the best idea, after all having a hand in the demise of the White Death and his entire family was probably going to catch up with them at some point so why not give them a head start? But it wasn’t just that. He’d thought he’d lost Lemon. For good. He’d looked at his brother’s corpse and his world had collapsed in on itself making him stupid and reckless. If it hadn't been for Clementine he probably would've been dead. She had saved his life and almost gotten herself killed in the process, the bullet they’d pulled out of her thigh living proof of that. 

So yeah he was a little antsy even if she wasn’t, sprawled out on the plush couches of their private jet as she yawned, ‘get me one will you.’

‘Your legs not working are they not, love?’ he quipped intending to get back to their normal selves by bantering with her as he normally would only when he noted her bandaged up leg he felt a twinge of guilt rush through him. Clementine didn’t even seem to notice the correlation, accepting the banter at face value as she said, ‘I'd say it was the least you could do seeing as I saved your arse. Twice if my memory is correct.’

‘You say that like we’ve never saved your arse before,’ Tangerine said as he got to the bar.

‘You have to admit you would’ve been toast back there mate,’ Lemon reasoned. As they locked eyes Tangerine felt his guilt swirl deeper in the pit of his stomach, the memory of Lemon’s limp and lifeless body flashing before his eyes once more. He dropped his gaze to the range of bottles on the bar looking for something that would take that feeling away.

‘No he’s right. He’s saved me enough times,’ she said pushing herself up and hobbling over to the bar. Tangerine frowned as he watched her wince but resisted the urge to help her figuring him trying to lead her would go down like a lead balloon. Instead he opted to ask, ‘what are you doing?’

‘Making us all a drink,’ she said, finally behind the bar and nudging him out of the way with her good hip, ‘I assume you needed me to do that for you too. Or do you think you could manage that all by yourself?’

‘Very funny,’ Tangerine scowled as she giggled, grabbing a fancy bottle of scotch from the bar and handing it to him to pour. He did as he was told, though only because that was the one he’d been eyeing anyway though that only made her beam a smile as she headed back to her seat and allowed him to pour. He did so quickly, swigging a full glass before he made up three drinks and took them over to where they were sitting.

‘Aw you’ve even made it just how I like it,’ she said, taking a sip, ‘you’re learning so well.’

‘Would you pack it in?’ he grumbled as he took a seat on the other couch with Lemon.

‘Not my fault you’re so easy to wind up,’ she smiled.

‘I’m not easy to wind up,’ he retorted, ignoring Lemon’s snort as he continued, ‘you just don’t know how to shut up.’

‘Well you can always make me,’ she bargained, sitting up from where she had been lolling and leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees.

‘Oh yeah and how the fuck do I do that?’ Tangerine said as he laid back against the seat, resting his foot on his knee as he watched her.

‘How about we make a deal?’ she said, watching him cockily as she sipped at her drink. Tangerine watched her. Her hair was up today, pulled back roughly in a clip though she’d allowed a few tendrils to fall around her face, and she was wearing a t-shirt and leggings though he suspected this was more to do with the fact she was bandaged from the thigh up, he knew that because he’d been the one to do it. Still it made her look out of place amongst them, both in crisp new suits. Not someone you'd associate with making deals, even silly little bets like this one.

‘Go on then,’ he said as if the idea bored him entirely though he could feel interest stirring inside him.

‘Okay I’ll stop teasing you if you,’ she stalled clearly thinking on her feet, ‘if you…if you be my slave for a day.’

Tangerine rolled his eyes. He didn’t know why but he’d been expecting something more serious, less childish, but at this rate she was more like Lemon when it came to teasing and games. It was only one step up from Thomas the Tank. Clementine hastened to continue, ‘half a day?’

Still nothing.

‘An hour?’ she bargained. Tangerine merely stared at her.

‘Sounds like a no to me bruv,’ Lemon chuckled as he took a sip of his drink.

‘Well I’m getting something out of it,’ she pouted.

‘How about you celebrate the fact we’re going to keep you on seeing as you’ve actually proved yourself useful and be happy with that,’ Tangerine said. Clementine smiled and placed her glass on the table in front of her.

‘You know it’s okay,’ she smiled, ‘if you’re feeling vulnerable because a woman saved your arse. It doesn’t threaten your masculinity if that’s what you're worried about. Right Lemon?’

‘Course not,’ Lemon chuckled, ‘it shows enlightenment and understanding.’

‘That's what Ladybug would say,’ Clementine giggled though she stopped as Tangerine jumped up and started walking away from them huffily, ‘where are you going?’

‘For a slash so I don’t have to listen to you twats any longer,’ he huffed.

Although he was barely out of the living area of the jet before Clementine was up and following him forcing him to stop and look at her as he questioned, ‘what are you doing?’

‘Coming with you,’ she said as if it were obvious, ‘I figured you’d need help with that too.’

‘You fuckin’-’

‘I can hold it if you want,’ she mused, smiling wider as she saw a tinge of pink on his cheeks though it disappeared as he snapped, ‘alright fine! What the fuck is it going to take for you to let this drop?’

Clementine grinned.

‘Oh I don’t know,’ she said, moving to flop back onto her seat, her legs up on the dark leather of the airplane seats. The seatbelt sign had clicked on but none of them seemed bothered about adhering to its request. Tangerine was just hoping whatever she was baiting for wouldn’t take long, he really did have to use the bathroom.

‘So the slave thing is definitely off the table?’ she questioned. Tangerine said nothing because his face said what he was thinking anyway, not that Clementine paid much attention to the scowl, she was used to him by now and instead she looked to Lemon and said, ‘what do you think?’

‘Well it’s gotta be something worth your while,’ Lemon said seriously. Clementine nodded in agreement as Tangerine folded his arms and asked, ‘I’m sorry, why are you helping?’

‘Yeah I know what you mean,’ she said ignoring the brunette, ‘something simple he can do hmmm…how about wishes?’

‘Wishes?’ Tangerine scoffed, ‘do I look like a fuckin’ genie to you?’

‘Now that you mention it,’ Lemon quipped but Clementine refused to let them get steered off track as she whined, ‘oh I'm not asking you to make me a billionaire or find the love of my life am I? Just simple things.’

‘Like?’ Tangerine pressed.

‘Like I get to pick where we go for dinner,’ she said.

‘What radio station we pick,’ Lemon added, earning a nod of recognition.

‘What bar we get slaughtered at after a gig,’ she said, ‘that kind of stuff.’

‘And that’ll shut you up?’ Tangerine asked.

‘Yep,’ she grinned, ‘but you have to fulfil your end of the bargain without moaning.’

He deliberated on it for a moment looking between the pair of them, they looked like excitable children waiting to see if their dad was going to agree to take them for a happy meal, but he supposed that was better than they could've been looking. Clementine had saved him and he did want to thank her. And he supposed something silly like this was better than something far worse so with a sigh he said, ‘fine. You get your wish.’

‘Wishes,’ she corrected, ‘let's say ten.’

‘Two,’ Tangerine bartered.

‘Seven,’ she said, bouncing his offer back at him as she stood from the couch, holding her hand out for him to shake.

‘Three,’ he replied.

‘Five,’ she said. Tangerine hesitated and then shook her hand.

‘Five,’ he confirmed, ‘now can I go for a slash in peace?’

‘Of course!’ she beamed moving to sit next to Lemon as they broke into a rapid conversation about what her first wish should be. Tangerine rolled his eyes and headed to the bathroom though he couldn’t help but smile at the happiness in her voice.

Tangerine was brought back to reality as he felt a thump on his chest and looked up to find Lemon staring at him gesturing for him to join Clementine who was now standing on the small stage. The middle-aged DJ watched as he crossed the room, handing him a microphone with a curt nod before he returned to his station and announced to the room, ‘please give a warm welcome to er Tangerine and Clementine!’

There was a smattering of applause from the twenty or so people in the bar as he took to the stage. He tried not to focus on them which was fortunately easy to do because as he acclimatised himself he found the lights glaring on the stage almost blinding. He could barely see into the club, in fact the only thing he could focus on was Clementine. In her signing up she’d now procured a brown cowboy hat and microphone like his. In her blue sundress and boots she almost looked the part which made him feel stiffer in his slackened suit. She didn’t seem to care what he looked like though, pulling him closer towards her by the arm as the music started to play so that he could see the small screen set up in front of them which displayed the words.

YOU LOOK LIKE YOU LOVE ME BY

MALE BLUE/FEMALE PINK was all that was displayed across the small screen as the intro played. To his disbelief Tangerine could feel his heart start to beat faster in his chest. How was it he could stare down the barrel of a gun and not flinch and yet karaoke had his palms sweating? He wanted to duck out even leaning in and asking, ‘am I supposed to know this?’ in the hopes that she’d be merciful due to his ignorance.

Unfortunately though she didn’t, simply offering him a reassuring smile and a pat on the bicep as she said, ‘you will besides that’s what the words are for.’

‘Don’t need to know a tune then?’ he asked sarcastically.

‘It's only one verse and it’s mostly talking I promise,’ she said reassuringly as her words started to load.

Fortunately the first verse was all cast in pink and he watched as she started to sing or rather, speak with a tune. She was right, he had heard the song before, it was always playing from her phone whilst she scrolled mindlessly through TikTok in the back seat. Whilst Lemon unwound by playing video games and he by going for a run she found endless banal internet videos a source of relaxation. Of course he didn’t begrudge her way of coping, it was just that it often started the moment they were back in the car which meant he was forced to hear it and it had led to no end of squabbles between the pair.

So I walked right up, And I pulled him to the side, I handed him a beer and looked him right in the eye, And I said, ‘Baby, I think you're gonna wanna hear this.’ Then I told him. 

She was watching him now no doubt hoping he'd clicked on to why she'd picked the song by

the way she was grinning. Tangerine rolled his eyes. 

‘Excuse me, you look like you love me,’ she sang, ‘you look like you want me to want you to come on home.’

The song was cheesy, country and not his style at all but he couldn’t help but smile at the way she was beaming. And he supposed she was right; his part was minimal and didn’t involve much singing so he had to give her credit even if he was shaky and uncertain as he rhymed off the next verse.

By the time they were coming to the close he even ventured to sing some of the chorus with her, earning a hoot from Lemon somewhere he couldn’t see. Granted he let her experiment with the final run which procured her an enthusiastic round of applause which she lapped up, pulling her sundress from her hips so that she could curtsey. Tangerine merely nodded in recognition and got himself off stage as quickly as he could but as he got to his table he felt her swinging off his neck. 

‘Well done Tange!’ she cheered, moving herself to his side but keeping her arm around him as she looked up at him with a grin.

‘Well done yourself,’ he chuckled, slipping his arm around her waist to steady her, the alcohol and the high making her sway, ‘right set of pipes on ya who knew.’

‘Well that’s why we have to try new things isn’t it,’ she grinned, ‘right Lemon?’

‘Oh for sure!’ he beamed, ‘though you know I'm not going to let you have all the glory right?’

‘You and me are already signed up,’ Clementine vowed.

‘You think you can top it bruv?’ Tangerine asked.

‘With my eyes closed,’ Lemon snorted, ‘what did you pick Clem?’

‘Islands in the Stream of course,’ she said as if he was ludicrous to think anything else, ‘we should be up next.’

‘Excellent, in that case let me nip to the toilet,’ Lemon said downing his drink before he headed towards the bathrooms. Tangerine moved to let him past, knocking into Clementine who grabbed onto his shirt to steady herself. 

‘You really did good,’ she smiled, deep blue eyes looking into his own. Tangerine felt his heart thump again.

‘You too,’ he agreed.

‘Oh yeah fancy round two?’ she teased, wiggling her eyebrows.

‘Don’t push it,’ he said, rolling his eyes as he knocked her cowboy hat off her head in jest.

Tangerine never did get back on the stage that night. One because he was sure his heart wouldn’t take the anxiety of it but mainly because the drunker they got the more Lemon and Clementine took to the stage until eventually they were asked, or told, to leave the premises stating they were hogging the mics and needed to let others have a go. It was just as well as by the time they got back to the hotel the pair of them were barely standing, allowing Tangerine, who was just as drunk but somehow able to hold his own, to shepherd them up to their rooms.

He’d barely steered Lemon into their shared room before he was flopping down on the bed fully dressed, already snoring as Tangerine removed his shoes. By the time he’d finished he realised he’d lost track of his other ward and found her flopped on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. 

‘Alright you let's get you to your room,’ he said as he peeled off his suit jacket and threw it on the back of the desk chair. Clementine looked up as she heard him speak before she yawned and said, ‘actually I'm alright here.’

‘Oh no’,’ he said, moving to pull her up by one arm, ‘not a chance, come on.’

‘Do I have to?’ she whined though she allowed herself to be manhandled off the bed, his hands finding her shoulders a moment later as he steered her through the hotel room and out the door until she was standing at the door of the room opposite.

Once outside she moved her bag from where it was draped across her body and stuck her hand in, no doubt fishing around for the hotel key. Tangerine tapped his foot as he waited. He supposed he could have just left her to let herself in but given the way she was swaying on the spot he didn’t want to risk coming out in the morning and finding her curled up against the dark wood of his hotel door.

‘You know you were really good on karaoke tonight,’ she said as she rooted through the small black bag. Tangerine was going to reply something snippy but as she locked her hand around the key she looked up at him and her face was earnest, a smile on her face as she offered the compliment.

‘I didn’t do much,’ he said suddenly feeling bashful, ‘it was mostly you.’

‘Yeah but you didn’t have to do it,’ she said as she turned to slot her key in the door.

‘Thought your wishes were mandatory,’ he ribbed.

‘Oh they are,’ she giggled, though once again when she looked at him there was something behind her expression he couldn’t place, a sincerity he never normally attributed to their relationship. It grew deeper as she dropped her voice, as if offering him a secret as she said, ‘but you were a good sport. I mean you didn’t have to agree…you didn’t have to let me join the pair of you but you did and…well I've been enjoying it.’

‘Me too,’ he admitted, watching as her smile grew, ‘if you tell Lemon I’ll deny it.’

‘Noted,’ she giggled.

Tangerine shifted. He didn’t know what it was, her words or the way she was looking at him but he wanted to offer his own sentiments, one without joking. After all even if he had been bending over backwards to fulfil her wishes he hadn’t thanked her yet not properly and so he said, ‘but I am happy you’re with us…in fact I’m grateful you were I would’ve been fucked if we were on that train alone.’ 

As he said that her face flickered with worry and she dropped her gaze so that he couldn’t see her face as she said, ‘can I tell you something?’

‘Course,’ he said quietly.

‘I was scared you were gonna die,’ she admitted. Her eyes were glassy when she finally looked up at her, gnawing on her lip before she said, ‘so when I saved you I wasn’t really thinking…I just knew I didn’t want to lose you and…’

Her breath hitched as she got to the middle of her sentence, taking whatever worries she’d been mulling over from being spoken into existence as she neared the verge of tears. Tangerine was sure it was just the booze talking but he felt the instinct to comfort her anyway, pulling her in for a hug as he said, ‘ey, I'm alright. I’m here aren’t I?’

Tangerine stroked her hair soothingly waiting for the tears to subside which they did after a moment or so though they left her eyes reddened as she pulled back and wiped at her nose, mumbling, ‘m’sorry.’

‘You okay?’ he asked, placing his hand on her cheek.

‘I’m fine,’ she nodded, ‘I just…I don’t know what I'd do without you.’

‘And Lemon?’ he asked, the way she’d singled him out making him feel as if he was under that spotlight again.

‘Tange,’ she said quietly as if he was missing the point.

Tangerine stared at her, those riveting blue eyes, and all of sudden he could feel his heart beating like it had been on stage. Only this had nothing to do with stage fright. This was due to the fact the words she spoke were truer than anything he'd ever heard. Because the truth was he didn’t know what he'd do without her either. She had become part of his family, part of him without him even realising.  Of course he loved Lemon and he had assumed that the love he had for her was the same but now, staring into her soul he felt like he’d been missing the point.

As if she’d truly had to walk right up to him and spelled out how he felt for her for him to get it.

‘Clem, I, I don’t know how to do this,’ he said hesitantly. After all, what if he had misread his feelings? What if he didn’t feel the way he thought he did and they did something they regretted. She was a good asset and he wouldn't want to lose her.

‘I do,’ she said, moving to wrap her arms around his neck as she pulled him down to kiss her.

His hands moved to her waist, holding her as she pulled him towards her and kissed him with a ferocity he didn’t know he’d been missing. It was like an explosion going off not only as sparks cascaded through his mind but because of how everything seemed to slot into place, their teasing, tension, care and passion blending into one perfect moment.

He was breathless and dazed when he pulled back, all of it taking him by surprise, and yet he still managed to smile as he found her grinning at him. He watched as she moved from his grasp, pushing her bedroom door open before she turned around and said, ‘okay, I’ve decided.’ ‘Decided?’ he asked, still struggling to make his brain work

‘What my last wish is,’ she said, offering a hand out for him to take, ‘wanna find out?’

‘Oh definitely,’ Tangerine said, moving into the room at rapid speed and kicking the door firmly shut behind him.