#even the way he was kissing me. holding me. looking at me and god

[jjkbambi]

the morning after luigi mangione x reader (18+)

summary!!! part two of is it new years yet because you do not get back together just cuz he has good dick OMG 🖕🖕🖕🖕😒 he also has a great personality and loves eating pussy

warnings: smut, kinda angsty, he’s manipulative but honestly he’s such a nice guy, you should really give him a second chance

^ not edited let’s alll just practice gratitude 🙏

seven days, thirteen hours, and nine minutes and thirty six seconds.

that’s how long it had been since luigi had seen you. not that he’d been counting, he was truly trying to be normal about the distance this time around.

he replays the morning after on a loop, searching for the slightest hint he’d done something wrong to no avail. as a matter of fact, your quiet body was beside him until deep into the afternoon, nothing but soft snores exchanged between the two of you. he wakes before you, kissing your forehead before taking his leave. his frat brothers whistle at him as he enters the wretchedly messy house, throwing him a water.

“happy new year, big guy,” one of them, hasan, greets. “did’ya spend your night thinking about new goals or scoring the same one?”

luigi rolls his eyes. “fuck off.”

another brother chimes in, bright-eyed. “when are we meeting her?”

“in your dreams.”

he had no intention of sharing you in any way; the thought of anyone else even looking at you irritated him. but starting the new year off by your side was far too great a fate to be stoic about. he grabs a plate of what’s left of their shitty communal breakfast (jar salsa from the night before, scrambled eggs, and two pieces of mostly burnt toast) and brings it into your room.

“y/n,” he calls out while entering. the door to the bathroom is now closed, and he sees your shadow shuffling around the room.

hesitant, the door creaks open. youre back in your black minidress, holding onto your heels. “hey, pretty.”

“hi,” you say tightly, the mistakes and soreness from the night before lingering in your mind. you’ve just wiped away the tears still streaked on your face, yet your ex-boyfriend hardly looks hungover.

“dressed up just for me?” he jokes, kissing your cheek. he offers you the plate of food but you shake your head.

“lacy’s waiting for me. i’ve got to go.”

“stay,” he says, his voice honey-sweet, like the boyfriend you knew months ago. it makes you feel sick, the familiarity of it all suffocating you. the room feels too small.

you push away from him. “i have to go.”

“baby,” he drops everything he’s holding to grab you again. “what’s wrong? is everything alright?”

he always blows your mind with his audacity. “no, everything’s not alright, luigi,” you spit back. “we shouldn’t have—none of that should’ve happened.”

“what do you mean?”

“luigi,” you sigh. “we’re over, alright? it’s done.”

“y/n—”

“i mean it,” you raise your voice so slightly, but still it breaks. “you cheated on me, then pulled all this shit, i can’t do it anymore.”

“you can’t do it anymore? are you serious?”

“yes!”

“you ignored me for weeks then showed up at my fucking party, dressed like that,” his voice was low, but angry. brows furrowed, he doesn’t lose his grip on you. it scares you. “you can’t tell me you weren’t bartering for my attention.”

“i wasn’t.”

his jaw sets. “then who’s?”

“oh my god. nobody’s!”

“don’t fucking lie to me—”

“lu, stop, seriously.” your voice trembles this time, and you both notice it. he drops your hand.

“i didnt mean to hurt you,” he says, soft at your upset. “i swear—i dont remember cheating on you. i’m not gonna mess up like that again, i promise.”

he leans in to kiss you, to seal the pledge with his gentle touch, but you pull back. “it doesn’t matter that you didn’t mean to hurt me—you did. you can’t just pretend it didn’t happen.“

his big brown eyes bear into yours and he swears, “i can make it up to you.”

“luigi,” you hadn’t even realized you’d been crying until he brings his hands up to wipe your tears away. “i just don’t think this is a good idea, i’m sorry.”

“come on,” he says, frowning. “i love you. only you.” his lean-in to kiss you is successful this time. the kiss feels much better—softer—than last night’s. he’s gentle with his desperation, intent on making you stay. “‘m sorry, okay?” he says between kisses. “let me make it better.”

“no, luigi, we shouldn’t—”

“you’ve got to hear me out, y/n,” he takes your lips again. his hot kisses move down your neck—and it all feels so different this time around. even the air in the room feels lighter. his voice is against your ear when he swears, “i’ll be good to you, sweetheart, i promise.”

saying no to him is near impossible—it’s why you shut yourself off of him for weeks, avoiding places he frequented, deactivating your social media, ignoring his constant stream of messages and calls. now, he has you, and within minutes, you’re pressed against the wall again.

“feels good?” he teases, grinding his hard-on into your core. you melt underneath him, you can’t help it, he’s so warm.

“lu,” you whimper. you’re still sensitive from how selfishly he took you the night before, you can’t help but react to his touch so quickly. it felt so raw.

“wait—” he never does. his hands are on your hips again, moving your body against his.

“just let me take care of you,” he says, trailing kisses down your neck again. this time, he was sure to leave marks.

he keeps the dress on this time. he places you back onto the bed, and as you gather the courage to take him in again, he moves beneath you.

“knew i recognized these,” his voice hot against the fabric of your panties.

you told yourself the lacy black panties were just meant to match the dress, but it all seemed so intentional—the party crash, the kitchen drive-by, the fact that you were wearing his valentines day gift. whether this was a manifestation of your greatest fear or desire, you couldn’t tell.

he kisses your thighs, then runs his tongue against your core through the fabric of your panties before ceremoniously ripping them off. he kisses and sucks at your wetness. you tremble at the suddenness of his movement. his big nose is so prominent in your pussy, you can’t help but grind yourself against his perfect face and whine as he drinks you in.

“you’re such a fucking mess,” luigi says, smiling into your warmth. his unshaven stubble tickles your sensitive cunt, sending a tremor through you. “so wet, i’ve barely even touched you.”

“i can’t help it,” you whimper.

he grabs your ass, pulling you closer to his relentless mouth. it’s ridiculous how good he feels. he’s completely shameless in his endeavor to ruin you.

“look at me,” luigi orders, so you do. you look down to see him, finding that he’s already gotten to touching himself. his hard length at the edge of the bed, furiously red, as he strokes himself. “i think about you everyday,” he admits in between licking at your core. “i missed how this pretty pussy tasted. i missed having you like this. holding you down so you can’t squirm away. missed hearing you beg.”

you’re almost there, fidgeting underneath his hands. “luigi, please. it’s too much.”

“you’ve taken worse,” he growls into you.

he feels like he’s on fire. one hand moves up and down along his cock fervently, while the other lends itself to fingering your frothing pussy. you mewl at the sudden entry, back arching.

“luigi,” you whine. “please.”

“i’m trying to do a nice thing for you, y/n,” he hums, “but you want me to be selfish, hm? want me to take you?”

“yes,” you say, breathless.

“fuckin’ slut,” he grumbles, pulling himself away from your wet cunt. he grabs your ankles and pulls you to the edge of the bed. “what d’you want from me, huh?”

“want you.”

“course you do,” luigi says, surprising you with hard slaps against your sensitive clit. you cry out at the sensation, the unfamiliar storm of bliss and torment, and he chuckles darkly. “you fuckin’ belong to me.”

he grabs your chin and forces you into another kiss, your wetness now staining you both. he lifts your leg up and slides himself back into your wet warmth. “you’re dripping,” he praises as he pounds into you. the exhilarating pain sets your senses alight, you grip onto him tighter without even realizing. “all for me, yeah?”

“all for you.” you nod. this is not how you expected this conversation to go. you writhe at how big he is, how hard.

“you can take it,” he grunts. he’s not fast, this time—his thrusts are agonizingly slow and tortuously deep—just as you think it’s all entirely too much, one hand grips your clothed tit, the other lifts to cradle your chin, forcing your lips to part open. he spits into your mouth. “swallow,” he orders.

you do.

“good girl,” he places sloppy, wet kisses along your jaw, your neck, then goes to bite at your tits. “so fuckin’ pretty.”

“i thought about you too,” you admit sheepishly, out of your mind. he looks up at you, raises his eyebrows, urging you to go on. “i missed you.”

to your surprise, he scoffs. “fuckin’ bitch.” he suddenly loses the interest in being gentle with you, returning to your body rough and angry. his fingers massage against your clit, unraveling you. “you’re just as crazy as i am, you know that? running around town like you don’t belong to me. like you don’t touch yourself late at night thinking about this cock. wishing those fingers were half as good as mine, huh? fuckin’ idiot.”

“luigi,” you cry out. was this him being nice?

“be a good girl f’me,” he grunts. he feels you pulse around his cock and drives into you with even more force. “cum all over me, baby. have my fuckin’ kids.”

“luigi,” you mewl again, desperate for release.

“come on, pretty, show me how good it feels.”

his lips return to yours, hot wet and desperate, as he cums inside of you. you’re a complete mess—squirming and whimpering as you unravel onto his cock, he catches your moans with kisses and leaves you shaking underneath him.

“good girl,” he hums, kissing your forehead.

for a fleeting moment, the two of you are perfect. everything feels just right. he slips into the spot beside you, the disarray of tangled sheets forgotten as he pulls you into his warmth. you sink into the nape of his neck, and though there are no more words spoken, the air is thick with an undeniable love, quiet but all encompassing.

but when he stirs awake, reaching for you, all that lingers is the soft, fading smell of your spring perfume.

send requests ! <3

[slushfaerie]

okay so…fratboy!patrick...

(truly my beloved. from this post ! stoner!art coming soon. filth below the cut)

you meet in a random discussion section for one of your sophomore english classes. get assigned to peer review each other's papers. he’s a sweetheart on the down low.

he’s one of those frat boys that shows up to your 8am section hungover or even still drunk with those fucking black sunglasses on. he talks about his conquests from the night before with his boys before class but still grabs you papers from the stack being passed around by the TA and hands them to you, your fingers brushing against his.

patrick invites you to the party at his frat house one week towards the end of the term, not thinking you'd show up. but he can't hold back a grin when he sees you walk up, pushing by the new pledge they'd made stand as a bouncer.

he watches you dance and take shots with your roommates and he can't keep his eyes off you..but he's just…surveying the party…that’s it.

patrick's the one who makes the announcement, “if you’re not a brother or with a brother, get the Fuck out.” to the whole party at the end of the night. 

when that one creepy brother approaches to try and hit on you, hoping to get lucky, patrick wraps his arm around you, making a show of whispering in your ear and taking too much pleasure in the way the creep’s face falls.

"wanna go to the roof? grab some air?" he pulls the cigarette from behind his ear with a grin.

as you climb the stairs to the rooftop of the frat house, patrick's hand wanders to land on your hip as he pulls you closer. he's crushed his 4th beer of the night and you'd taken shots and had some of the jungle juice. neither of you mind the way it feels, him so close to you.

you share a smoke on the roof and he makes you laugh, his smile lines illuminated by moonlight as he tries to insistently point out constellations in the light-polluted Palo Alto sky. you try to look away from him, stay detached, brush him off. but you can't help that he's funny.

despite your efforts to stay away, you can't help yourself. your night ends with his tongue down your throat. he tastes like beer and cigarettes and looks at you like he wants to ruin you, just so he can piece you back together. wants to have you all for himself. you can't resist his gravity.

patrick takes you to his messy room in the frat house, kissing you with wild lips and tongue against the door, air thick with tension, before peeling off your clothes.

he guides you to your elbows and knees, your hands gripping the soft fabric of the sheets on his unmade bed.

he places slow kisses up the skin of your back before teasing the seam of your cunt with the tip of his cock, laughing as you shudder for him.

“oh…you like that? tell me what else you want..”

you’re practically putty in his hands, making all kinds of noises, trying to get him to stop teasing.

patrick can’t hold back his “fuck, baby…” as he finally enters you.

as he fucks you from behind, his hand reaches around from where it rested on your hip to rub your clit with his fingers almost sweetly, the gesture a stark contrast to the brutal way he was taking you.

patrick gives you a smirk as he continues to fuck into you. you look up to his eyes meeting yours in the reflection of his closet door mirror.

"god, look how pretty you are."

he gives your ass a spank before thrusting all the way in, tonguing your neck before he leans down, his chest molding to your back as he presses you down into the bed, impossibly deeper inside you.

"you're squeezing the hell out of me, y'know that?" he whispers in your ear as he covers your hand with his.

"can't believe this pretty little pussy..taking me so good..”

guess you're with a brother now.

[pinejayy]

╰➤Riding Them || One Piece

featuring: doflamingo, corazon, buggy, mihawk and ace

a/n: finally a third part for this series!! thanks for the love and support guys!! <33!! // hugs and kisses to everyone!! uwu

summary: riding these beautiful one piece men because I’m whore when it comes to anime men. 😩😩 // part 1 ,, part 2

warnings: doflamingo, nsfw, riding, buggy being a bottom, mihawk being a top, face fucking.

✦•·················• 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃!! •·················•✦

Doflamingo

This man is ruthless whenever you’re riding him and despite him being the bottom he still has his ways to dominate you and your feelings. And this man will degenerate you in every way possible. He’s spitting either god awful dirty things at you or sweet words. Such as !! “Such a dirty whore, you love riding my cock? Can’t get enough of it?” Or “Such a good Princess. Keep making me feel good, such a good girl.”

He gets even more rough with you when he’s had a long and hard day. He’ll just make his way towards your direction and shove you slightly towards the his private room. He doesn’t care if you’re in a middle of conversation. And once in the room he’ll sit on the bed and patted his leg. “Sit. It’s been a long day and I need a good fucking.”

And once you end up on his lap his hands are all over your body, squeezing anything he can grab. And he isn’t gentle, not wasting time he’s always striping you from your clothes, and he’s already stripping himself from everything…well besides his sunglasses. Placing sloppy kisses across your neck . “Come on princess.” He whispered, as he stroke himself. “Sit on your throne and ride away.”

And he helps you aline yourself with him, and this man is so huge and thick that you wince every time you’re in this position. Whimpering softly, as he allows you to adjust to his size, and he can’t help but have a smug smirk across his face. “So tight. So good Princess…you love riding me. Right?” And to which you moan and nod, looking at his eyes and nod. “Mm so good Doffy…so big…you fill me up so good..”

Doflamingo loves watching you shake in pleasure as your riding him, the way your hips move against his, the way your chest bounces. Everything gets him so hard for you. And sadly you do tend to get tried quicker than him so when you start to slow down he’ll hold down your hips and fuck you to his liking. And you better scream his name, he wants everyone that you belong to him.

And this man doesn’t believe in aftercare…so good luck with that.

Corazon

He’s the quite opposite from his brother, than man is more shy than anything. He’s scared that he’ll hurt you due to his size. After all he’s much taller than you and he doesn’t want to harm you. But after one day of trying to convince him he decided to try it out and he ended up loving this sex position. So he loves when you offer to ride him. “Mm I need to ride you sweetheart. May I?” You cooed out softly, to which he began turning red.

He’s so gentle with you. Treating with such care and with so much love. And whenever you’re on top of him, he loves to admire your beautiful body and face. He’ll run his hands along your waist and hips. “Feel so good…you look so beautiful on top of me..” He moans out. Cora loves watching how your boobs bounce, he can’t help but squeeze them. He loves watching how prefectly you fit him.

He’s always using his devil fruit abilities when having sex with you. Especially when you’re riding him. Because let’s be honest he’s a moaner. He wants to every single noise you make. So when you try to cover your mouth he’ll move your hand. “It’s okay my dear. Feel free to moan my name out. No one is going to hear us.” Because god forbid Doflamingo

He loves thrusting his hips upwards and hitting every sweet spot of yours. He loves how your body reacts to every little thing. The way your head is thrown back moaning his name. “Mm Cora…you feel so good…” And this babey would also praise you. Let’s say you’re getting tried he’ll hold your hips and thrust upwards and take over “It’s okay my dear. I’ll take it from here.”

THIS IS 100% FOR AFTERCARE!! He’ll kiss your hickeys and praise you once again. “You did wonderful my dear.” Also!! He’ll grab your favorite snacks and run you a warm bath!! And after that he’ll cuddle you until you fall asleep. A lot of head kisses and a bunch of “I love you.”

Buggy

This man is a total bottom for you. And he loves to brag to everyone that he’s the top of your guys relationship but behind close doors he’s falling onto his knees for you. He loves it whenever you dominate him. Especially when you ride him because he gets a good fucking and a good view of your tits. He loves squeezing your tits and saying “Honk”

You’ll start off by sitting on his lap and taking his lips against yours into a heated kiss. “Mmm…I need you to ride me again..” He whispered against the kiss. And you gladly accepted his offer. Stripping him from his close, placing small kisses along his neck. And before sinking into his cock you’ll stroke nice and slowly and tease him. “Such a dirty little clown…can’t get enough of me?” Biting his neck, and sitting on his lap.

Buggy has to beg for you to do anything. “Please Y/N…stop teasing me…” And you’ll cut him off mid sentence by pinning him against his back and sinking onto his cock. And he has to bite his lip from moaning out loudly. And you’ll move your hips slowly, until he’s begging for more. “Come on clown. Beg for more.”

You love hearing him moan your name out. So whenever he tries to cover his mouth. You shake you head. “Tch..naughty clown. I want to hear your pretty little sounds.” And he’s a whimpering and moaning mess. The rest of the crew probably hears him and they tease the hell out of him. Poor Buggy.

Buggy uses his Devil Fruit abilities whenever you’re riding him. One floating hand will be teasing your nipples, while the other hand is playing with your clit. “Heh..I make you so good huh?” And speaking of his devil fruit abilities, you’ll make him remove his head and place it across the room and you’ll ride his body. You’re the star of the show and he’s enjoying it.

Pspsps Mihawk and Crocodile know he’s the bottom of your guys relationship and honestly they aren’t so surprised.

Mihawk

This man…this is definitely the top of your guys relationship. He isn’t going to submit to anyone and that also includes you. So whenever you are riding him it’s on his terms and only on his terms. “Hmm I think you deserve a treat my dear. You’ve been such a good girl, how about tonight you take the lead.” And his words are already making you weak to your knees.

Before riding him he’ll appreciate a nice lingerie, he loves to admire your beauty. And you bet your ass he’s going to praise you. “Such a beautiful dear…you’re going to look even more beautiful on top.” He say softly and grab your hand and lead you to the bed and he’ll sit down and pat on his leg. “Sit my dear.”

And once in his lap he’ll place a gentle kiss on your lips. “Just because you’re on top doesn’t mean I’m submitting to you.” He whisper against your lips. Nodding, you place small kisses along his cheeks and neck which will earn your a hum of approval. And once he’s admired your body, he’ll strip his own clothes and yours and stroke himself as he smirks at you. “Now careful, don’t break yourself dear.”

And once he’s inside of you, you take a moment because he feels so much bigger in this position. “Mm Mihawk…so big..” Moaning out, and he groans as he felt your walls clench around him. He gives you a moment to adjust before placing his hands on your hips and moves his hips upwards. And he knows what spots to make you cry out.

Whenever Mihawk notices your getting tried he’ll run a finger along your clit. “Now don’t disappoint me my dear.” He coos, which makes you whimper and move your hips against his until you guys reach each other’s climax’s. And when you do finish, he’ll quickly flip you over. Being on top once again.. “Now, my turn to fuck you my dear.”

Ace

This man is a total switch, and if you want to ride his dick he’s already dragging you to the bedroom. And he’s already kissing you with such hunger. Hands all over body. “Damn..you wanna bounce on my cock again?” He’ll tease you and strip you naked. And once you’re naked he’ll whistle. “Wow, beautiful as always.”

His favorite position is reserve cowgirl style, and to top off the position he’ll make you wear his hat. God…seeing you in his hat makes him cum alone. So this position is top three favorites. And he also loves watching the view…the way your ass is bouncing off of him. “God babe…you know how to drive a man crazy.”

Ace doesn’t bother trying to muffle his moans, if you’re making him feel good then he’s gonna let the whole ship know. And the same goes to you…both of you guys are loud. “God babe…your pussy makes me feel so good…fucking good.” He moans out, smacking your ass which earned a loud moan from your lips. “Fuck Ace…dick so good.”

You guys are so loud that the ship knows you guys are fucking and they have to bang on the door to keep you guys quiet. “You guys fuck like rabbit! Keep it down! We’re trying to sleep.” To which results in you and Ace laughing.

Speaking of dick riding. He loves when you face fuck him. Ride his face…he fucking loves it. And he doesn’t want 10% percent of your body weight he wants you to full sit. USE HIS FACE AS YOUR CHAIR UWU.

[1425fivefive]

Just saw your kink prompt list and my brain went briefly offline because your writing + any of the kinks on the list? I think i'll literally spontaneously combust.

I'm literally on my knees and begging for Landoscar + 17 (breeding). Alternatively Landoscar + 12 (forced feminization), 21 (wet + messy) or 24 (inexperienced partner).

I read these 4 kink prompts and my brain went 'YES' particularly loudly.

Literally any of the above and I will be the happiest Elf on the Shelf!!

breeding for landoscar (with a lil bit of feminization as a treat)! (for the kink prompt asks)

Oscar needs to find whatever McLaren employee thought it was a good idea to hand Lando a baby and tell them to never do it again. Babies should be banned from the MTC. Banned from anywhere within five kilometers of Lando’s vicinity. Because now that Oscar’s seen Lando with a baby—the way Lando’s eyes lit up, his delighted grin, how he couldn’t stop trying to make the baby laugh—Oscar can’t stop thinking about anything other than knocking Lando up.

Oscar’s not an idiot. He knows they’re both men, knows Lando can’t get pregnant. But it doesn’t stop Oscar from imagining it. Lando’s taut stomach swelling with a baby. Their baby. His tits getting heavy and full, perfect little handfuls. Milk dribbling from his nipples, Oscar licking it up, dragging his tongue over the sensitive buds.

Oscar decides not to mention it, figures Lando will probably be more than a little put off by Oscar telling Lando, a man, that Oscar wants to get him pregnant. Instead, Oscar contents himself with digging his fingers into Lando’s belly while he fucks him, kissing Lando’s neck, telling Lando how pretty he is, how perfect, how well he takes Oscar’s cock. Whenever Oscar comes, he stays in Lando a little longer than usual, fantasizing about making it take.

After a few weeks, Oscar figures Lando hasn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary. That Lando thinks Oscar’s just being his usual, adoring self.

But Oscar fucks Lando in front of the bathroom mirror in Lando’s hotel room one night, one hand resting on Lando’s belly, the other squeezing Lando’s pec.

“Gonna fuck you so full of me,” Oscar moans, meeting Lando’s eyes in the mirror. “Get you so fucking full of my come.”

Lando whimpers, tipping his head back against Oscar’s shoulder. “Please, Osc. Want you to.”

“Yeah?” Oscar pants, grinding deeper into Lando. “Want me to fill you up?”

“Please,” Lando whines, hand coming up to grab at Oscar’s hair, tug him closer, deeper. “Make me full. Wanna feel you.”

Oscar feels delirious. He rolls Lando’s nipple between his fingers, drags Lando back on his cock, groaning at the sight of Lando’s dick flopping with each thrust of Oscar’s hips, dark and flushed.

“Touch yourself, sweetheart,” Oscar breathes. “Make yourself feel good.”

Lando whines and brings a hand down to his cock, rim tightening around Oscar.

“Yeah, Lando,” Oscar moans. “Just like that, good girl.”

Oscar doesn’t even realize what he’s said until he sees Lando’s mouth drop open, whole face going red, rim going ridiculously tight around Oscar.

“Oh, fuck,” Oscar stutters, thrusts slowing. “I didn’t, uh—”

Lando shakes his head so fast he looks like he might give himself whiplash, whining, “No, no, I liked it, please, Osc, you can—”

“Jesus,” Oscar groans, sinking his teeth into Lando’s shoulder, fucking in hard.

Lando cries out, cock blurting pre-come over his fingers, his tight little body shaking in Oscar’s hold.

“Yeah, Lando,” Oscar breathes, voice strained. “Make yourself feel good, baby, that’s it.”

“Oh,” Lando gasps, turning his head into Oscar’s neck, hand flying over his cock. “Oh, oh, oh—” He breaks off on a shaky moan, spilling all over his fist and the counter, panting against Oscar’s neck.

“Fuck,” Oscar groans, fingers tightening on Lando’s stomach. “God, Lando, that’s—”

“Osc,” Lando whimpers, starting to tremble from oversensitivity as his orgasm peters out.

Oscar starts to pull out, planning to come across Lando’s arse and thighs, but Lando throws a hand down to Oscar’s hip, keeping him in.

“No, please,” Lando begs, fucking himself back on Oscar’s cock. “Want you to—” He breaks off on a moan, eyes fluttering. But he opens them again, meets Oscar’s in the mirror. “Want you to fill me up,” he whimpers. “Want you to make me yours.”

Oscar’s panting against Lando’s shoulder, fucking him hard, deep, fast, lost in Lando’s eyes.

“Come in me,” Lando whispers. “Want you to give me a baby.”

Oscar comes with a shocked moan, whining and whimpering, spilling inside Lando, palm flat against Lando’s stomach, imagining Lando getting swollen and big with their baby.

“God,” Oscar moans, pressing in deeper, trying to make sure it takes. “God, Lando, fuck—”

“Yeah,” Lando whines, grinding back. “Yeah, Osc, please.”

Oscar gives Lando exactly what he wants. What they both want

After, Lando pulls them to the bed, drags Oscar’s hand to his arse and guides two of Oscar’s fingers to where he’s fucked open and puffy, wet with Oscar’s come.

“Want to keep you in,” Lando whispers, urging Oscar’s fingers inside.

“Fuck,” Oscar gasps and slips his fingers in, swallowing Lando’s whimper with a kiss.

When Oscar pulls back, he asks, “How’d you know?”

“What? That you wanted to knock me up?” Lando asks, smiling lazily.

Oscar huffs a laugh. “Yeah.”

Lando’s grin widens, and he tips his forehead against Oscar’s. “You’re easier to read than you think.”

Oscar’s chest aches, everything going soft. “Nah,” Oscar whispers. “Think you just know me too well.”

Lando tucks himself tighter against Oscar, letting out a pleased little hum.

[alba1221141]

Mary Janes

.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.☁︎

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵

Arcane High school AU Jinx x female!reader

1

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Jinx

"You got the stuff?"

"Yes, dumbass, when do I not?" My hand dives into my pocket. Out comes the 5g of Mary Jane.

"Now this? This is quality. High-end." I waggle the bag. "Don't waste it. Got it?"

Today's buyer nods. He's a boy, tall enough, with the kind of face that might make him passable to get with. He's definitely, probably, bought the weed hoping to get into some druggie girl's pants.

"$20." I hold my hand out.

Cue the grumbling. Expletives.

But hey, there it is—the crisp twenty, right in my palm.

"Pleasure doing business with ya!" I grin, pocketing the money as the boy walks away with a newfound swagger in his step.

Dealing’s not hard—not for me, at least. Dear old Dad supplies the goods: weed, ecstasy, coke, sometimes mushrooms. I supply the school. Easy. Weed’s the favorite, though. Always weed.

Then—ugh. That sound.

Click. Click.

Mary Janes.

I grimace.

And there she is. Little Miss Expert Saboteur. Brows furrowed. Lips tight. Clipboard ready.

"Ah, toots." I peel myself off the wall, sauntering over. "Come to ruin my fun again?"

"Dealing contraband is forbidden on school grounds," Y/N has to push the words out It looks like it hurts her to even utter the word contraband.

I clutch my chest, gasp. "Oh no! A crime! A horrific, terrible crime!" I stagger back, mocking it up real big. "Lock me away forever, toots!"

Nothing. Not even a smirk.

She scribbles on that stupid clipboard, eyes all slitty.

"Ohhh, I see how it is," I sneer, stepping closer. "Writing me up, huh?"

"Knock it off, Jinx," she snaps.

I raise my hands. Innocent. Halo practically glowing. "What? I didn’t mean to offend Little Miss Brown Nose."

Clipboard. Thrown. Smack.

And she’s off. Stiff-backed. Nose high.

I pick up the clipboard. Flip it open.

"Jinx, dealing pot on school grounds again. Issue: week detention."

I snort. Same old crap. She’s such a kiss ass.

Me and her? History. Friends once. Used to be. Past tense. Before she became this tight-ass snob. Okay, fine—maybe part of it’s on me. Messed-up kid. Scary. Whatever. But the kicker? Silco takes me in, and just like that—childhood, fairy tales, besties—splat.

I chuck the clipboard into the trash and light it up.

Flick. Flame.

The fire snaps to life, chomping through her pathetic little notes like it’s starving.

I watch, arms folded, leaning back, enjoying the show. A grin creeps onto my face, sharp and hungry.

The flames crackle, roaring as they climb up the sides of the trash can. The heat bites at my skin, but I don't flinch.

And then—BOOM.

The trash can goes off like a cheap firecracker, bursting with a loud pop. I grin at the sight.

Her precious clipboard? Allllll gone.

"Oopsie,"

.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.☁︎

Y/N

Gosh, gosh, gosh!

She just has to mess up everything all the time. And she just had to keep the clipboard, god knows what shes done to it, probably discovered a way to it into some kind of powder to snort.

And why on earth did she have to taint the school with her sketchy little deals, is it that hard to refrain from drug dealing on school property, apparently for Jinx its a severe struggle.

Gosh and to think i'd once associated myself with her, well... she was different then, less... deranged. She was Powder, but anyone with half a braincell could see the foundations of Jinx, the outbursts, the meltdowns... it was only a matter of time before she cracked... i just wished it was later rather than sooner i just wanted more time.

I slam the locker shut, hard enough to make it rattle. Ugh, why was I even thinking about her? Like, seriously, what is wrong with me? A fixation? Gross. Absolutely disgusting. I yank at the buttons on my shirt, finally grabbing my cheerleading top and shimmying into it.

"Whats going on with you today?" Mel nudges me making me jump. “You missed Caitlyn’s romantic musings. Again. Which as trivial as they are you seem to love.”

Caitlyn huffs, "They're not trivial... just why cupcake why does she persist with that damn name, but that's beside the point... what's going on with you, you've been blanking out."

"No, no, I'm fine, probably PMSing is all." I deflect leaning against the locker.

Mel, Caitlyn, and I have been tight since freshman year. Well, me and Caitlyn long before that. Her parents—the Kirammans—are, like, dripping in generational wealth. Private tutors, fancy everything, the whole deal. Then, because Caitlyn absolutely insisted, they finally caved and let her go to public school.

After the whole disaster with Pow—no, Jinx—we kind of just... found each other. Both of us needed normal, and we’ve been best friends ever since.

Mel's a senior, a year above us, but when we showed up at Piltover Community three years ago, she just... adopted us to put it simply. She’s a Medarda—her family owns part of the trust that funds the school. Everyone kisses her feet. Head of student council, Model UN, you name it.

Cheerleading practice goes by without anymore qualms until... Water’s spraying from the celling everywhere, that damn beeping piercing everyone's ears — the fire alarm. It’s not a drill. Cait and I would've been told, Mel would've given us the heads up.

But I know exactly who it is. Blue braids trailing behind a certain figure slipping out of the gym. She spots me instantly, turns around, and—the audacity—winks at me.

Jinx

.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.☁︎

authors note: hey this is my first fanfiction on Tumblr, hope you like it :) please like and reblog!

[madridfangirl]

Star crossed lovers (Jude Bellingham fic)

Chapter 18

(Series Link)

Jude * female reader. Mature Language in parts.

Synopsis: A chance encounter in a tiny Madrid cafe with the newest superstar of her fav club. The two couldn't be more different, yet both feel the pull toward the other. Would this girl be the one he finally falls for? Or would life come in the way of these star-crossed lovers?

..........................................................

Ananya woke up the next morning, with Jude holding her close. Still on their sides, facing each other, his arm on her waist and one of his legs resting in between hers. Only difference being he was on the end of his pillow now, not hers.

She sighed & looked at his peaceful resting face, a picture of perfection. His features soft yet sharp. Manly yet boyish. The dichotomy never failed to amaze her. God must truly be proud of this particular creation of his.

He was here. He was really here. Not a figment of her imagination that she had conjured up in her despair yesterday.

Slowly, she traced his cheek with the back of her index finger. Rest of him was just hard muscle, but his face was soft. The skin feeling warm & squishy under her touch. He stirred a little, but his breathing evened again, and she resumed her exploration.

The trim seemed fresh, suiting him perfectly, but it was a tad too fine on the sides. She made a mental note of telling him that.

Her finger slid to his firm, muscly neck, lingering there. Something about his neck always did things to her. His pronounced Adam’s Apple always catching her attention. 

She could do this all day, just admire his beauty & soak in his presence. Especially after yesterday, when she had nearly lost it all. Again. 

‘Ummm colddd.’

Her hands were somehow always colder than the rest of her body, even under a blanket. Jude often called it a mystery.

Keeping his eyes still firmly shut, he reached for her palm blindly and then put it inside his sweatshirt, on his chest, warming it with his body heat. The gesture turning her into mush. She was about to hug him dearly but Jude being Jude said something wildly unexpected before that.

‘So you touch me often while I sleep?’

She stilled, gaping at him. He peeped one eye open, while rubbing sleep out of the other one. Even half-asleep he was notorious.

‘W-what?’

He scooted closer on the pillow, noses touching, as his lips curved up into a half-smirk.

‘Where all do you touch me?’

‘JUDE.’

‘Can I do it to you too?’

‘Stop right n..’

‘Imagine waking up with my head between your legs, huh? Or my hand? Bet you’d like it.’

‘YOU LITTLE ASS.’

‘Nothing about me is little, darling. You of all people should know it. And definitely not my ass, you love it.’

‘I hate it.’

‘Lies on Christmas? What would Santa say?’

‘Santa would understand, since I have to deal with a demon like you.’

‘Please, you adore me.’

‘Let me go.’

She struggled to get out of his hold but his grip was tight and his booming laugh quickly eroded the fight in her (plus she never actually wanted to get out of his arms, not really), making her giggle too at the silliness of it. The sound was music to his ears.

Jude buried his head in her hair.

‘Merry Christmas Eve, darling.’

His accent was somehow thicker in such moments, each word ringing distinctly in her head.

‘To you too, Jude!’

She knew he had done this to lighten the mood, and she was secretly thankful. Her emotions were still all over the place after yesterday, and were threatening to bubble over any instant. 

Ananya turned in his arms, facing him again, and was met with a charming, dashing grin. The boy should just be illegal, head to toe. She couldn’t help herself from reaching over and kissing his cheek.

‘When did you know?’

‘Know what?’

Jude knew very well what she was asking but he loved to play this game with her.

She rolled her eyes loudly and he quit the teasing.

‘Sometime after the dinner with the three of us. I think Jobe said something which I couldn’t stop thinking about, and then one thing led to another. I knew that night.’

‘So without him you won’t have realised?’

‘Sometimes I need help with these things. But honestly, I think I’ve loved you long before. That night just put things in perspective.’

‘Hmm.’

‘Don’t leave me hanging now. Tell me about you, when did you know?’

Flashes of that night came to her mind, when she had nearly blurted it out unknowingly. She told him she didn’t know the exact moment either but that was when she realised. Jude remembered that night. He knew something was off when she had dashed to the washroom like that but could never imagine the reason to be this. Until now.

‘I guess, somehow without me realising, you just clawed your way into my heart.’

‘I’m quite a clawer for what I really want.’

‘Clearly.’

They fell into a comfortable silence, her head lying on his chest, listening to the soothing rhythmic beating of his heart. While his fingers threaded through her hair.

‘I love dove.’

She looked up then.

‘Dove is love. So lovey dovey. Look it all fits. I’m so creative.’

‘You’re so silly is what you are.’

‘Pls, you’re jealous of my genius.’

‘Sure.’

‘Where’s my Christmas present?’

‘It’s….in the works.’

He looked at her suspiciously. But how was she supposed to know things would materialise in this way? She had assumed she would have more time till she saw him again, before her trip to India. 

‘Honestly, I didn’t forget. It’s in the works.’

‘Gimme a hint?’

‘In a way it’s similar to yours. In a way.’

‘You’re writing something? Making something?’

‘Yes.’

‘Oh I CAN NOT wait.’

‘Soon, baby.’

‘You’ll beat me, won’t you? It’s gonna be better than mine?’

‘Gosh it’s not a competition. And for the record, nothing could be better than yours. Not in a million years.’

‘Now that you say it..’

He preened a little under her praise and she found even that endearing. God help her!

But something was nagging her, something that she needed to let out.

‘Jude.’

‘Yeah?’

‘I was too harsh yesterday. Some things I said….I’m sorry.’

‘You were angry & hurt. It’s not your fault. Plus you were mostly right.’

‘But still I…maybe shouldn’t have said a few things….I didn’t mean them.’

Her hand gripped his sweatshirt and she sank further into his chest. Jude cupped her face with one hand, while his other hand ran up & down her back.

‘Shhh. It’s ok. Just tell me this - at any point, did you really believe I’d walk out on you like that?’

She took a deep breath. In her attempt to alleviate the pain, she had tried to convince herself of a lot of things. But the answer to his question was clear.

‘No.’

‘And did you know I’d fight for you? Come back for you?’

‘Yes.’

‘That’s it then. That’s all I need - your love & trust. With that, we can get through anything.’

Overwhelmed, she snuggled into him, trying to crawl under his skin to get a load of his warmth and his scent. He held her tight through it.

‘Maybe we should talk about a few things though. Like what you said about my Insta likes.’

‘Now?’

‘Now’s as good a time as any.’

Reluctantly, she nodded, asking him to go on.

‘I thought about what you said. I’d be more mindful going forward. You won’t have any complaints. But if you do, will you please tell me then & there?’

‘Yes. Ok.’

‘It’s your right Ananya. You need to understand that. Believe that. Truly. You have a right over me, like I have a right over you.’

‘I hear you.’

‘Pls be more vocal with me. I need that. I’d love that. I’m not good at reading between the lines, you would have seen that by now. So pls help me there.’

‘I-I’ll try.’

‘Great. One more thing.’

‘What?’

‘Is the 100 Euro threshold still on?’

Ananya had set that as an upper limit for him to get her anything. This was her way to have a middle-ground to still let him get her stuff but nothing expensive.

‘What made you ask that?’

‘Because now we’ve said we love each other. And I wanna spoil you, like I do for the other people I love.’

She looked at him tentatively, and he knew the answer before she said anything.

‘I’d really appreciate it if we could stick to the threshold. For now.’

If Jude was disappointed, he didn’t let it show on his face.

‘Ok.’

‘Did I upset you?’

‘No, it’s fine.’

She reached out to cup his cheek. 

‘It’s not about you. Even with my parents, I haven’t taken a cent since I took up this job. And I don’t wanna take anything from them for my MBA also. Both Stanford and Harvard are expensive, but if I do well at work I’d get a full scholarship from my company. That’s why I applied for this team - more work, higher stakes but better incentives. Just trying to make my own way in this world and I am a bit of a stickler for that. And I get that you’re not trying to interfere with that in any form, that this is just your way to express yourself but pls give me some time to get accustomed to it. Also, it’s the gesture that counts right? Not the price tag.’

He turned his face to gaze his lips against her palm.

‘I respect that, really.’

‘Thank you.’

‘I’m glad you are telling me things like these, makes me feel closer to you.’

He had said that last night also. And she had felt it too. Strangely, this had not been an issue in her previous relationship. But somehow, with Jude, she hadn’t been able to communicate as effectively. For no fault of his.

Maybe because she didn’t feel inadequate with her ex. But with Jude, it was another story. Maybe, she should tell him that.

‘I-I saw her yesterday. Her pics.’

Jude sighed. He could already tell how she would have tortured herself in a thousand different ways and where all her mind would have gone.

‘Ok. And?’

‘And - I can’t be like that.’

‘Who’s asking you to be like that?’

‘Won’t you? At some point?’

‘Have I done anything to make you feel that way?’

‘No, but…’

‘But what?’

‘You’re 20 Jude. You may not know what you want.’

‘You’re 20 too.’

‘Yes. But age & maturity work differently in men & women. You said it yourself.’

Jude took a few deep breaths to calm his head before responding.

‘That maybe true. But I know that I want you just the way you are. And that my days of straying are over.’

‘Your friend had a different opinion.’

Jude looked at her with confusion and she referred to the video of his Dortmund friend Gio saying Jude would be the last person he’d want his sister to date, and that there were various reasons for that which he couldn’t get into.

‘Wow, stalking me much?’

She just shrugged.

‘Ananya, that was before us. And it was a joke answer to a hypothetical question.’

‘A joke answer based on some facts?’

Silence for 2 seconds.

‘Yes. But it’s in the past.’

‘Don’t wanna go back to that life? To just have fun?’

‘No. And I do have my fun with you.’

‘What changed?’

‘You. I met you.’

She looked at him with such a mix of earnestness and residual doubt that he felt like his heart would explode in his chest.

Jude kissed her lips for a good 30 seconds, calming both their nerves.

‘Baby, listen to me yeah? The kind of life & women you are talking about, I had that. In abundance. And I thought that would suffice for the next few years. That it would be ‘fun’ for the next few years. Till it's time to settle down. But somewhere along the way I started to get bored. It became just about some initial flirting then sex. And that was it, nothing after that. No conversation, no companionship, nothing. I didn’t even spend the night in the same bed, didn’t want to. There was no one to come home to. No one to talk to after a good day or a bad day. No one to share my thoughts with. No one to take me away from reality when the day-to-day became too heavy. No partner. No confidante. No one to love. No one to spoil. No one to watch a movie with or share a laugh with. No one to anchor me. No one to understand what this game and this club means to me. And I didn’t really know of this void till I met you. Remember how we talked for hours on our first date? I don’t even recollect the last time I had that or even wanted that with anyone. But you - you changed everything. And I know you’d call it cheesy but I kinda just had this feeling about you, from the moment I saw you in that cafe.’

‘It is cheesy.’

‘Such a hater.’

She shrugged. Jude knew she didn’t believe in fairy tales any more but he also had a feeling there was a time when she did. Then it all changed, maybe after her breakup. Since then she had hardened her heart and strived to become more practical. But in time, she’d believe in destiny again. Because he had started to believe in it now, since he met her. It could only be destiny which made his mother suggest that cafe, for him to stop there that day and look out the window. And everything that transpired after that. He was convinced it was written somewhere. It was ironic, because it felt straight out of a movie. And Jude wasn’t particularly fond of these rom-coms  (while she loved them wholeheartedly). But the tables had turned and he’d become a believer now.

‘ANYWAY, like I was saying, it all changed with you. I keep repeating it like a broken record, and will probably do that till you actually believe it, that I’m completely obsessed with you. I love every side of you - smart, opinionated, headstrong, feisty, sweet, kind, thoughtful, shy, football fanatic, Madridista. Just everything. Never met anyone like you. You want me for me, not the other things that come with it. Heck you would have liked me a lot more easily had those things not been there. Do you understand how rare that is? I know the feminist in you would scoff at this but most women I’ve met want me for other things. It’s true, don’t look at me like that. And you know what’s the sexiest thing about you? That you actually have no clue how sexy you are. You’re like a sexy little kitten. When you talk on your work calls in words I don’t even understand, it gets me so hot I can’t explain. Many times I’ve considered just grabbing you then & there. Have pictured taking you on your office desk, or on a conference room table, right after a big presentation. Don’t know what witchcraft it is that you’re looking so alluring even in this baggy night-suit. The definition of temptation from the Garden of Eden. Why do you think guys hit on you? Why do you think that lee….that colleague of yours fell for you? Dove, I can’t wait to show you off to people whenever we decide to go public. You’re perfect for me, just as you are.’

Her eyes were lowered, as she clung to him while hearing him profess how desirable he found her in that disarming baritone of his. The colour starting to seep into her cheeks & neck.

Jude sighed loudly, cupping her cheek.

‘I think of this flush when I touch myself.’

She slapped his chest.

‘Shameless boy.’

‘What? Sharing things with my girlfriend is shameless? I’d call that healthy communication. You should try it sometime.’

‘Yeah right.’

‘No seriously. Tell me something about my ass. I know you check it out all the time.’

The confident smirk was on in full force now.

‘You really are a menace.’

‘Thank you.’

He chuckled, the sound & his pretty face making her smile too.

Jude leaned over to kiss her cheek and they snuggled into a comfy embrace again, his big arms engulfing her, neither wanting this moment to end. After a few seconds, curiosity got the better of him.

‘Dove?’

‘Yeah.’

‘You think I’m too possessive?’

‘Where did that come from?’

‘Just something you said yesterday.’

‘I never said that.’

‘Not directly. But felt like you implied it.’

She rose up slightly, leaning on her elbow, looking down at his waiting eyes. His face so open & transparent. In his closed circle, Jude really walked the talk of sharing everything. With him, what you see is what you get. He would just blurt out the most random of things sometimes but no one could call him secretive, not with the people he truly loved.

It made her want to share too. But words were hard to come by. Mostly because that phase of her life she had locked away somewhere in her heart, never to revisit. Never to mull over. 

‘I don’t mind it. In fact, I sorta like it. Shows me you care. It’s different from what I’ve…..experienced before.’

Jude knew where this was going, and he patiently waited for her to continue at her own pace. She looked away & chose to share one particular instance to show what she meant.

‘Once, we were in a club in Goa. After our final term got over. We were in a big group but the two of us had separated mid-way. I was waiting for him to get a drink from the bar. A guy came over, quite drunk, and asked me to dance with him. I said no and he walked away, no fuss there. When my boyfriend….ex boyfriend came back I told him this and he wasn’t bothered at all. In fact he was like you could try it out, it was just a dance, just an experience. I didn’t get it at all. Like I can’t explain, it wasn’t a big thing, not like he did something major but it just made me feel a little less wanted.’

She turned to look at him, he was still listening to her intently. 

‘I know you would never do that.’

‘Never.’

He responded without missing a beat. She smiled.

‘I know, and I like that.’

‘Well, I’m glad. Coz I don’t know how to be any different when it comes to you.’

She stroked his cheek softly.

‘You don’t need to be.’

He covered her hand with his, holding it there.

‘If you don’t mind, what happened there? With him?’

Her face dropped, and she buried her face into his neck, fingers playing with the fabric of his sweatshirt.

‘You don’t have to tell me, but tell someone. It feels like it’s weighing on you, and the weight will only grow with time.’

Jude was right. She hadn’t really talked about it in detail even with her close friends back home. Not even her cousin. The official line she had used was that they grew apart, not much beyond that. Locking it away seemed like the best choice at the time, because the separation made her weak and desperate and she hated to be in that state. Hated seeing herself like that. She never revisited it later because what if thinking about that made her weak again? It was much easier to just zone out of it. But that wasn’t particularly healthy. She was surprised though that Jude had caught on to that.

‘Listening to me talk about my ex is not weird for you?’

‘I want you to talk to me about anything you feel. Wanna be your friend too.’

‘Hmm.’

She considered that for a bit, while he gently ran his fingers through her hair. Somewhere along the way she started talking.

‘We always knew we were very different in personalities. And after a point it started bothering him, though in the beginning he always told me we’d find a mid-way. Honestly, I didn’t do enough to find a mid-way too, it was my fault as well, but at least I tried. After a point, when he thought it was too hard, he stopped trying. He loved me a lot, not denying that, but it came down crashing very quickly when he checked out mentally. Which is why he got over it quickly too, he’s very practical that way. Always told me to never get too attached to anyone and never have too many expectations. I was not his first love, he had his heart broken by his high-school crush, which made him practical. But he was my first love, my first in everything, and I fell head over heels. He told me many times to not make my life all about him, and he was right there, it’s not good for either party. But I understood all that a lot later, when he was at a point of no return. He never really looked back, and it was hard for me to handle. So I cut off from him and that set of friends completely. It was easier to not see him at all than to see him completely alright. When I was nowhere close to it. This was in April. I haven’t seen him or spoken to him since then. He’s not on socials so that makes it easier to cut off too. This wedding I’m going for would be the first time I see him in months. ’

It was all starting to make sense to Jude. Why she was the way she was and why she tried so hard to keep her guard up. 

That he was going to be at the wedding was not news to Jude, Ananya had told him well in advance. And it didn’t bother him. Well, mostly it didn’t bother him. 

‘I’m sorry you had to go through this.’

‘Hmm.’

‘Look at me.’

He tilted her chin to look into her moist eyes.

‘What did I say about tears?’

She wiped her eyes with the back of her arm.

‘Sorry.’

‘Baby - I’m sorry you had to go through this. But without that, you wouldn’t have come to Madrid and would never have met me.’

‘Yeah.’

‘It’s meant to be, I’m telling you.’

‘When did you become so cheesy?’

‘Your fault. You are doing things to me I don’t understand.’

‘Oh Jude.’

She turned to find his lips, kissing him dearly. He kissed back with equal fervour, flipping them to get on top of her.

The kiss became heated in no time and she knew where it would go if she didn’t stop him. So she rolled out from underneath him, leaving him high & dry, scooting away to the edge of the bed.

‘Excuse me?’

‘Excused.’

‘Thought we were having a moment there?’

‘We were. Then it ended.’

‘Thought I was punished enough yesterday. Clearly not.’

‘Told you I need some time.’

‘Fine.’

He sulked, tucking his arm under his head, watching her tidy up the room a bit.

‘Jude, you need to leave now.’

‘So you’re kicking me out also? Boy you’re cruel.’

‘It’s Christmas Eve. You need to be home. Now get up & leave. You promised.’

‘I said afternoon. It’s 11 am right now.’

‘Fine. Then go take a shower in Roma’s room, I’ll take one here & make some breakfast and then you will leave.’

‘Can I take a shower with you?’

She crossed her arms.

‘What do you think?’

He tried a different strategy.

‘Can I draw you a bath?’

She narrowed her eyes at him.

‘I’m good at those. Honest.’

‘Fine.’

He jumped up from the bed like a toddler who had been told he could skip school today, and headed straight to her washroom, banishing her from coming inside till he called her in.

When he did call her in, the place had turned into a mess but the bath-tub sure looked inviting, bubbles foaming well above it.

‘Thank you.’

‘I’ll help you get in.’

‘Didn’t know I needed help with that.’

‘Floor is wet. You need help.’

Amused, she decided to play along.

‘Fine.’

She tied her hair in a bun & took off her clothes. And Jude tried really hard to keep his eyes on her face. Really hard.

He extended his hand to her which she took, and he carefully guided her inside the tub. She hummed while sitting down, the hot bubbly water providing instant soothing.

‘Thank you Jude, this is lovely.’

‘I could help wash you with the loofah.’

She smiled. It was glaringly obvious what he was trying to do but it was cute as well.

‘Fine.’

He smiled wholeheartedly. And for a second she forgot what game he was playing.

Jude fetched the loofah and started with her arms, running it softly over her skin. She moaned a little, which was not helpful for his nether regions. He went to her legs and she moaned harder. Jude wondered if she was doing it on purpose to torment him but her eyes were shut and her face looked so innocent it couldn’t be so. 

Somehow, he carried on and moved to her back, but the angle was restrictive.

‘I could do it better if I’m inside.’

‘You wanna join me in the tub?’

‘Just to help wash you.’

‘Sure.’

Jude took off his clothes then, and she had to look away to not break her resolve. It didn’t help though, coz when he sat down he pulled her back to his front, and it was hard, so hard to remain unaffected. 

He continued the charade & rubbed the wet object down her front, paying special attention to her chest. She threw her head back & moaned, which made him groan too.

‘A little mercy here?’

‘This is your doing.’

Defeated, he carried on. The object tickled her tummy & she giggled a little. But the giggles died in her throat when he moved to her thighs. His actions slow & deliberate. Measured. 

‘Ju-de.’

‘Yeah baby? Want something?’

She whimpered as his hands continued going lower down her thighs, till the very apex of them. There, he stopped.

‘Don’t think this can go here, right?

‘Ermm no.’

‘Gonna have to use something else then?’

‘Y-yes.’

He threw the loofah away. And prodded at her sensitive folds with his long, strong fingers, pushing one inside her.

She shuddered & fell back against him, and his other arm came around her waist to support her.

‘Why deny yourself? Why not take what you want?’

He whispered in her ear. Despite being in hot water, her whole skin tingled with goosebumps.

The way his finger was filling her up made her head swirl. Her own touch wasn’t good enough anymore, since she had met him. It did nothing for her; her body ached for him whenever she had tried to tend to it last week. And now he was here. Offering to please her. How could she resist?

‘Yes? Say yes, baby.’

He punctuated that with perfectly timed thrusts of his finger, adding another one in, making it impossible to say no.

‘I love you.’

He cooed behind her. The words which were her ruin. Her undoing. 

‘YES. God yes.’

‘Such a good girl. Gonna take care of you now.’

His fingers moved gloriously inside her. Doing all kind of things to her insides. When he added his thumb to massage her sensitive spot, she shuddered violently and water fell from the sides of the bathtub, making him smile.

She needed more of him. Craved more of him.

‘Ju-de.’

‘Turn around. Hold my arm.’

He guided her carefully to turn and sit in his lap, bending her legs at her knees. She looked like a goddess, a wet naked Greek water goddess. 

‘Come here you.’

He grabbed the side of her face and pulled her in for a deep kiss, plunging straight in, pouring all his longing into it. She whimpered & tried to hold his arms or the side of the tub but it was all slippery & she couldn’t find an anchor. 

The bubbles were hiding her from him. It was a travesty. Jude picked them up in his palms & started throwing them out of the tub, making more of a mess on the floor than it already was. She wanted to protest but his eagerness was endearing. When he had cleared them enough and her torso was visible, he went for her neck & chest, biting & sucking with abandon. Her soft moans filled the room, he revelled in those sounds.

His large palms cupped her butt, kneading them with force, lifting them to lower her gradually on his length. The angle made her feel him deep inside, and she gasped all the way through. 

After going in fully, he gave her time to adjust. She panted a little, trying to find the right slot for her legs to find some balance. The cramped space & his large body not giving her much room. After adjusting to the heavy intrusion, she finally looked at his stunning face. Droplets fell off his sharp jaw sultrily, putting her in a trance. If there was something more erotic than naked Jude, it was naked Jude wet. She leaned over to steal a kiss of her own, going for his cheeks first, then the tip of his nose, then finally his lips.

‘My prince.’

She whispered softly, and he preened under her nickname. 

Feeling emboldened, she leaned in again but this time she bit his cheekbones instead, followed by the tip of his nose. He chuckled, and did the same to her, ending with little bites on her bottom lip.

Her hand traced his torso, starting with his muscly neck, moving to his chest hair, then his six-packs and finally his happy trail. The touch sending sparks through both of them. 

‘I can’t wait anymore.’

‘Who’s asking you to.’

With another quick kiss, he grabbed her hips and started moving her on top of him. The angle hitting all the right spots deep inside. He quickly found THE spot & made a beeline for it. She shuddered & mewled & thrashed against him but he didn’t relent, making her peak shortly after. The speed & intensity with which her pleasure was wrung out of her left her completely breathless & spent. But he wasn’t done yet. He kept moving her like a rag doll, stimulating her excessively, till he filled her up with shots after shots of his pleasure. Her clenching muscles squeezing him of every last drop.

She fell forward on his chest, and he held her like a precious flower, rubbing her back softly, pressing kisses to the top of her head.

‘That was….it was…’

‘Amazing? Breath-taking? Out of this world?’

He grinned against her forehead. Her hand reached up to caress his cheek.

‘Yes. Because you are all of those things.’

‘Look at you, being mushy in love.’

She met his playful eyes then.

‘You’re doing things to me I don’t understand either.’

‘Why thank you.’

‘You’re also incredibly silly and say the most inappropriate things at the most inappropriate times to completely kill the moment.’

‘But you still love me.’

‘Sadly, I do.’

It was getting late. She had to be the adult here. Grudgingly, she got out of his arms and out of the tub, leaving him behind to clean the mess while she made them some breakfast.

Jude entered the kitchen 10 mins later with water still dripping from his hair. She shooed him out, admonishing him for making a mess of the whole apartment.

Mumbling under his breath as to how she was so mean to him at times, Jude fixed his hair & the floor. Then plopped on the couch, one leg resting on the back of it.

He perked up when she emerged from the kitchen with two plates of French toast, a favourite for both of them. Jude pulled her next to him, and they ate side by side.

It was time. To leave.

‘Call Agnes. You’re going to the airport now.’

‘One more hour.’

‘JUDE.’

‘What? Why are you so eager to see me gone?’

He cried out, almost sounding hurt.

She moved to sit in his lap, and cradled his cheeks in her palms.

‘Baby - it’s Christmas Eve. I know how much you love this time. I know that your family is the most important thing in the world for you. I can’t be the reason to separate you from home right now. I can’t have that on me.’

‘You’re important too.’

He said that matter of factly and she wanted to cry out of love again. 

‘I know. But please, you can go now. I’ll be fine. You don’t have to stay back for me. I know that’s what’s holding you back, but really I’m fine now.’

Jude wasn’t sold. He knew she was still raw & overwhelmed from yesterday. He didn’t want her sitting alone & her mind going places. Her flight was day after tomorrow, she still had two more days here. 

‘What about your other friends? Work friends? They don’t have any plans around this time?’

‘They do..but..’

‘But what?’

She looked up at him, not wanting to say it. But he understood.

‘But he’s gonna be there.’

‘Yeah.’

Jude covered his face with his hands, sighing audibly. It was a rock & a hard place kinda scenario. But her staying alone was not an option.

‘I’ve said no.’

‘What’s the plan?’

‘What?’

‘What’s their plan?’

‘Umm they leave this evening for a cabin on the countryside, a 2 hour drive. Spend tonight & Christmas Day tomorrow there, then return in the evening.’

‘How many people?’

She looked at him oddly, unsure why he was even asking this.

‘5 of them, including him. 1 couple, one other girl, and 2 guys.’

‘What’s the sleeping situation gonna be?’

She rolled her eyes.

‘3 bedrooms. They offered to have me in with the other girl.’

‘Who called you for this?’

She rolled her eyes loudly again. As if Arjun would call her to invite her, after how awkward things had been between them.

‘Anna - the other girl.’

Jude covered his head with his hands again. Trying to reach a decision, while she sat confused. 

‘Go.’

‘What?’

‘You’re going.’

‘No I’m not.’

‘I don’t have a problem with this.’

‘Tell that to your face.’

‘Ok I do have a big problem with this. But I can’t have you here alone. So you’re going. Call them & confirm now.’

‘Jude - I don’t want any drama. It’s not worth it.’

‘I’ll behave myself, promise. Just don’t…don’t tell me anything about it. About him. Unless something major happens, I don’t wanna know anything. I’ll just pretend he’s not there.’

She looked at him incredulously.

‘You? You’re saying you don’t wanna know about him?’

‘Yes I’m making an exception. Look, anyone else I can handle, but that….that creature…I…’

‘You hate him. I know.’

‘Understatement of the century. But yeah.’

‘Jude, I don’t have to go. It’s not worth it.’

‘You’re either coming home with me or going with them. Pick.’

He didn’t leave her with any option. Going home with him she’d never pick, it was too soon, especially after all the drama that had just transpired. She was mortified enough that her parents got to know about them this way. 

‘Fine.’

‘Message them now. I wanna see it.’

‘And I’m the Hitler?’

‘Mostly yes.’

She sent the message, received a quick excited confirmation then shoved the screen in his face.

‘Happy?’

‘Yes.’

‘I’m telling you now itself it’s not a good idea.’

‘The alternative is worse.’

‘Gosh you’re stubborn.’

‘Look who’s talking.’

‘Ok. Time to go now. Move.’

‘Wait. I just did this immensely mature thing and I don’t get a reward?’

His fingers started caressing up her sides, from where she was sitting in his lap.

‘You’ll get one when we meet next.’

‘Too far out. How about a quick one now?’

‘There’s nothing quick with you.’

‘We can try.’

His grip tightened on her sides as he leaned in towards her chest. She had to stop this now, else he won’t leave for a long time.

Summoning all her will, she batted his hands away and stepped out of his lap.

‘Seriously?’

‘Yes. LEAVE.’

‘My girlfriend leaves me high & dry, then kicks me out ON CHRISTMAS, after I’ve told her I LOVE HER?’

She cocked her head at him. He’d put a toddler to shame with all his histrionics.

‘Enough with this emotional blackmail. Now pick up your things & leave. I’m calling Agnes.’

She followed through and called Agnes the next second. Muttering under his breath, he stood up, went to the bedroom to get his things, then dragged himself back out, shoulders slumped.

Before he was about to open the door, she held his hand, stood on her tiptoes and pulled him down for a soft kiss.

‘I’ll make it up to you, promise.’

‘I’ll hold you to it.’

‘I know you will.’

She kissed him again, and his spare arm wrapped around her waist.

‘Jude, I love you, so so much.’

‘Love you too, my little dove.’

‘Call me after you reach home.’

‘Will do. And text me all the time you are there.’

‘Will do.’

‘And if anything major happens…’

‘Yes I will call you immediately.’

‘I don’t wanna go.’

‘I know. But you have to. And we’ll meet soon. Bye baby.’

‘Bye, darling.’

…………………………………………………………………….

There you go :)

Am still a bit unwell but didn't want to keep you guys waiting anymore. 6.3k words, phew!

2 more chapters to go till the end of the story.

As always, would love to hear your comments / thoughts / messages. That you for all the love to Jude & Ananya!

[ssentimentals]

hey, nini !!! how about, hurt 4 and 37 with seungcheol but it's just a silly reason thing at the end they make up at the end??

hey, lovely! sure-sure, thank you for requesting! 💜 hopefully you will like it! (sorry for delay)

hurt prompt: 'i trusted you. with everything.' - 'just admit you're wrong.'

seungcheol is very close to start recording you and send this video as your application for the drama school; he's sure you'll beat all of the students there with your level of-

'i trusted you. with everything.'

-dramatics. your level of dramatics. my god the way your voice fucking wavers as you're about to cry makes his heart twist painfully in his chest, even when he knows you're not actually that upset. where the hell is his monument for being the most patient boyfriend in the world? 'baby,' seungcheol tries, trying to make sure not to laugh or sound too dismissive. 'angel. my love. of course you can trust me with everything. i only said-'

'just admit you're wrong.' you demand in a voice that leaves no room for arguments.

seungcheol holds your gaze but breaks it off after few seconds because he fucking can't. he's too weak for you. he can't sit here and continue arguing with you and proving that he is right, because your sad eyes won't be worth it. he can't stand you sad, can't bear being the reason for it, so yeah, he folds. and his boys would've never stopped teasing him for it they were here and saw this, but they are not and seungcheol honestly just wants to get over this and have you in his arms. preferably, smiling and being in a good mood.

'yeah, baby. i was wrong. i admit.'

he can't help but chuckle at the triumphant look on your face. all these dramatics over such a little thing - really, where is his monument? 'told you,' you say all smug, coming over to his side. 'told you i was right.'

'mhm.' seungcheol eagerly takes you back into his arms, pressing small kiss on your forehead. 'happy?'

'very.' you nod, looking very serious for a second but then breaking off in a huge grin. 'let's watch something?'

seungcheol laughs at this, shaking his head at how quickly you switch between different moods. it's crazy and it drives him crazy, but he won't have you any other way. being wrong when you are right also drives him crazy, but at least you're happy and seungcheol wants that more than being considered right.

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 35

Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, NSFW, MDNI, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings/labels: rude bitches, rich people being wildly out of touch with the modern era, vague hints of body image issues, comfort, and lots of holiday fluff

wc: 3.6k

A/N: Happy holidays all! I had hoped to have this chapter up yesterday, but the characters stopped talking to me for a few days so ... here we are. 😅

Chapter Selection

Jason healed fast, when he bothered to get medical attention. By the end of the week he was back to his standard training regiment, the arm wound was already shaping up to be one of his less pronounced scars, and Bruce insisted he couldn't use the incident to get out of the Wayne Foundation Christmas Gala. So, the Friday before Christmas I found myself back in my red dress, this time paired with a white faux fur wrap draped across my shoulders. Jason bit back a grin when I held out the necklace he'd given me, eagerly taking it. I held my hair out of the way while he clasped it around my neck, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of my neck.

“Stunning~” he purred softly, wrapping his arms around my waist.

I giggled softly, leaning against him. “Thank you~”

Damian cleared his throat behind us and I turned toward him. He looked downright regal in his suit; it was perfectly tailored, and the vibrant green tie matched his eyes beautifully.

“Oh my god, Damian! You look incredible, sweetie!” I squealed a bit, clenching my fists by my cheeks.

He flushed, looking away awkwardly. “Calm down, sister.”

I bit back the coo’s that threatened to pour out of my mouth. Damian rolled his eyes at the face I was making, and Jason laughed softly; “You might want to let her get it out, demon brat. Wouldn't want her squealing like that when the socialites get here.”

Damian frowned, staring up at me before holding his arms out for a hug. “... Proceed.”

I squealed and pulled him in, kissing the top of his head. “My handsome baby!”

He allowed my babbling for several minutes before gently pulling away. “Alright, alright, that's enough.”

I took a deep breath, getting myself under control again. “Sorry, sorry ... Who else will be there tonight?”

“Cain and Thomas will be around. And Father and Grayson are on Bat-duty.”

“Ok, cool.” I nodded. “... Where's Tim?”

“He’s needed at a Drake Industries event tonight. But he'll be here tomorrow for the holiday.” Jason rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the smile on his face.

Damian stayed glued to my side throughout the evening. Since Bruce was ‘inescapably occupied', the Gotham social scene had their eyes on those of us who were present. The WE board was also at the gala, so we were fortunately not accosted with requests to meet with Bruce at the office, but we were left on our own to deal with the social aspect.

An older woman approached us on the side of the dance floor, an insincere smile plastered to her face. “Now you must be Jason Todd. And young Damian Wayne, ah, such a pleasure to meet you both! Mr. Wayne has told us so much about you!”

Jason raised an eyebrow; “oh, has he?”

“Of course! He's terribly proud of his boys, you know. Oh, we were just devastated when we heard he was busy tonight. Perhaps you could tell your father we spoke?” She smiled brightly down at Damian; “it is getting to be about that time, isn't it? And our Maria would just love to meet you, young man.”

Damian pressed closer to me, reaching for my hand. I frowned, gently squeezing back. “... Sorry, it's getting to be what time?”

The woman tittered; “well, young men of status must be introduced to their social equals, mustn't they? Mr. Wayne will want to secure a good match for his son.”

I blinked a bit, wrapping an arm protectively around Damian's shoulders as I turned toward Jason; “what year is it? Have we fallen through a wormhole to the Regency period?”

Jason laughed as the woman's expression soured. “Perhaps we should call Mr. Wayne directly...”

“I'd love to hear that. When are you going to call? I'll make sure we're visiting.” Jason snorted.

The woman scurried away, huffing softly. Damian frowned deeply, staying close. I gently stroked his hair. “... Do you want to go up to your room, sweetheart? We can say you got tired.”

He slowly shook his head. “No, not yet, I'll be ok.”

Cass came over, looking at me as she held a hand out to Jason; “I need to borrow him for a minute.”

Jason rolled his eyes; “why?”

“I told the VP I couldn't dance with him because I promised you this one.”

He sighed, taking her hand. “Why me? Why not Duke?”

They made their way onto the dance floor, and Damian looked up at me, offering me his hand. “... Sister, shall we dance?”

I chuckled softly, taking it. “Such a little gentleman~”

He smirked a bit, leading me onto the floor after Cass and Jason. Damian was a surprisingly good dancer, and we spun around the dance floor a few times. Eventually, we ended up at the buffet table for some punch. A group of women were giggling amongst themselves nearby, and I caught just a bit of their conversation.

“It's just a shame about his face, you know?”

“Ugh, tragic. He was such a cute kid.”

“I know! I could have gotten past his poor upbringing, but that scar … that’s a deal breaker.”

“Didn't he have to find a girl from the bad side of town?”

“Yeah, he did! And I heard she's pretty f-”

Damian snapped; “yes, my new sister is very pretty. She's also clever, and kind, and we're all very pleased to call her family.”

The girls gasped softly, eyes darting toward us; “... This is a private conversation.”

“Is it? You weren't doing a very good job of keeping it to yourselves.”

I gently placed a hand on Damian's shoulder; “ignore them kiddo, they're not important.”

“Excuse you?” One of the girls shrieked; “my daddy could buy and sell you!”

“And yet he can't buy you some manners?” I sipped my punch, rolling my eyes as she sputtered.

I felt a familiar hand on my back as Jason slid in next to me. “Princess? Is everything alright?”

I smiled softly, leaning against him slightly; “hello, handsome~”

“These imbeciles are under the incredibly flawed impression that their opinions on our family are worth listening to.” Damian growled softly.

Jason's arm tightened around my waist. “I see … Well, which of us is the star of tonight's gossip?”

One of the girls cleared her throat; “n- nothing like that, Mr. Todd. These two misheard…”

“I highly doubt that. Come on, say it to our faces.” Jay raised an eyebrow.

“... Really, there's nothing to say-”

“They were commenting on your scars, Todd.”

The girls paled, clearing their throats awkwardly. “N- now that's just not true. None of us said anything about you…”

“My brother is a lot of things, but a liar isn't one of them. Tell the truth now, you don't have any vapid comments for me, maybe about this one?” He gestured toward the J branded onto his cheek. “Everyone's always so curious about it. If you want to talk, talk. Don't let me stop you.”

I gently squeezed his hand. “Jace, they're not worth it. Come on, let's get some air, yeah?”

He slowly nodded, frowning. “... Yeah, alright baby.”

I nodded, letting him lead the way. As we passed the girls, I leaned in to whisper; “it's Christmas, so I'm going to be nice to you today. But if I hear one more unkind word about my man tonight I will find you, and I will show you exactly how we handle these things on the ‘bad side of town'. Got it?”

The ringleader of their group sneered at me; “what are you gonna do, sweetheart?”

I looked her over; “... Let's just say you'll look more interesting when I'm done.”

“Is that a threat?!” She growled.

“Of course not. It's a guarantee.” I smirked, rejoining my boys as they stepped into the gardens.

The snow swirled lazily around us, and Jason leaned against a stone railing. I gently stroked his back, and he sighed softly, holding me close. “... You weren't particularly subtle. Someone will have heard what you said to them.”

“Fine, they can share the story far and wide for all I care. It will spare me from having to repeat myself.”

He chuckled softly, looking over at me. “... It's supposed to be my job to defend your honor…”

“How exactly will you do that, Todd? Shoot the trollops?” Damian smirked a bit. “That will be even less subtle than her threats.”

“... Did they say something?” He frowned.

“Damian didn't let them.”

He smirked; “I was not about to let them speak unkindly of my favorite sister.”

Jason chuckled, ruffling his hair a bit. “Good.”

I smiled softly, kissing Jason's cheek. “You feel alright?”

He leaned in, nodding slowly. “Yeah … I just … I'd almost forgotten what that was like.” He leaned against me, and I held him close. “... At least they don't know about the rest of them though.”

I cupped his cheeks, kissing his forehead. “They’re nothing. They’re insects taking cheap shots at a king because it makes them feel better about how insignificant they are. It lets them pretend they don’t burn with jealousy every time they see you.”

He chuckled weakly, cupping my cheek and pulling me into a kiss. “A king, huh? Does that make you my queen?”

“I suppose that's for you to decide, my king~” I giggled softly.

Damian gagged a bit. “Ok, both of you need to stop, or I'll have to follow Thomas around for a while.”

I woke on Christmas Eve to an insistent knocking. Jason's arms tightened around me and he groaned softly. “... Whaaat?”

“Snowball fight!!!” Duke roared from the other side of the door.

Jason shot out of bed, stumbling for the closet.

“Woah!” I blinked a bit. “What's going on?”

“Snowball fight! Get dressed!” He grinned, tossing some warm clothes onto the bed for me. I chuckled softly, pulling them on. Jay grabbed my hand as soon as I was dressed, pulling me toward the door.

We met Duke, Tim, and Steph in the foyer. Tim grinned, leading us all outside. The grounds were blanketed in pristine white, with more flakes fluttering down around us. “Come on, we gotta make a base!”

We ran for the yard. Dick and Bruce were already building a shelter while Damian and Cass made snowballs. We hunkered down a good distance from them.

“Duke, Steph, you're on snowballs!” Tim announced. They got started, and the rest of us began creating a snow hill to hide behind.

“Sister! It's not too late, you can join the winning side!” Damian called across the yard.

“Funny, I was going to say the same thing to you!” I laughed. “Join us, baby brother, and our victory will be glorious!”

“I will not betray my father!” He roared, laughing. “If you will not join us, you are the enemy! There will be no mercy, sister! Reconsider your loyalties!”

“You reconsider yours, little one!”

Jason laughed, offering me a snowball. “Ladies first?”

I grinned, kissing his cheek, and threw. The ball burst against Bruce's back, and the game was on. Soon I could barely make out Tim's attempts to shout instructions to our team over the sounds of laughter and snowballs bursting all around us.

We must have spent hours out there. Duke snuck away at one point, bringing back donuts and thermoses of coffee. After a long while, a taxi van came up the driveway. Bruce called time out as Bernard hopped out. The driver lowered a ramp, and Babs rolled out as well.

Tim beamed, running over to greet his boyfriend, and Dick ran over to give Babs a hug. Everyone gravitated toward the house to say hi, and Alfred called us all in for hot chocolates. Jay wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into a couch to cuddle and warm up.

“Should we do first presents now?” Dick grinned.

“First presents?”

“On Christmas Eve everyone gets to open one present!” Steph grinned, pressing a box into Cass's hand. “Open this one, Cass!”

Everyone took turns opening gifts. Jason tried to give me one, but Tim shouted; “wait!”

I jumped, looking over to him. “... Tim, we had an agreement. You got me jewelry for my first gala, that was my Christmas present from you.”

He grinned, holding out a box. It had blue wrapping paper with a big silver bow. “Yes, but this isn't a Christmas present. This is a Christmas Eve present. … And if you don't buy that, it's a Hanukkah present.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “... Are you Jewish?”

“Bruce is.”

“... Do you celebrate Hanukkah, or are you using it to make me accept your gift?”

“Sometimes we do, when his cousin visits. But otherwise, it’s hard enough to get him to do a one day holiday.” He shrugged, pressing the box into my hands.

“... Ok, fine. Thank you, Tim.” I chuckled, rolling my eyes affectionately as I took the box. I carefully unwrapped it, blinking in shock; Tim had put together an assortment of rare and luxurious spices, including saffron, Tahitian vanilla beans, and several things I'd never even heard of. “... Woah! Tim, this is so much…”

He grinned. “You like it? I figured you probably haven't had a chance to cook with some of these before.”

“You'd be right. Thank you so much!” I gave Tim a quick hug, and Damian peered at the spices.

“Sister, we must make saffron cookies. Please?”

I grinned. “Sounds good, kiddo! Next weekend?”

He beamed and nodded, leaning against me a bit. I stroked his hair, holding him close as Bruce and Dick brought out some games. The rest of the day was spent playing and eating. Bruce surprised me with how enthusiastic he was; given how Dick and Tim spoke about it, I had assumed he would participate in a little bit, then disappear for a while. Instead, he spent the whole day with us, and he even seemed to be having fun.

Bernard and Babs stayed for dinner before heading back home, sharing a cab into the city again. At bedtime Damian had me go up with him to tuck him in. I sat on the side of his bed as he got situated, smiling softly as I offered him a small red box. “I have a present for you, baby brother.”

He tilted his head, curious; “not tomorrow?”

“You'll get a present tomorrow too, but I thought you'd want to receive this one in private.” He opened it slowly, sliding my old ipod into his hand. “I recorded something special for you.”

He looked up at me, sliding an earbud into his ear before pushing play. His face lit up as the song started. “... You recorded my lullabies?”

I nodded, grinning; “so that you can listen to them even if I can't sing for you myself.”

He grinned, hugging me tight. “... Thank you, sister.”

I stroked his back gently, kissing the top of his head. “You're welcome, baby.”

I set the ipod on his bedside table for him, tucking him in. Once he was comfy I cleared my throat and began to sing. The words flowed, almost effortlessly, and I silently thanked the grandma's who'd spent so much time helping me practice at the Arab Cultural Center. Damian's eyes stayed glued to my face as I sang, a look of shock and wonder frozen on his face.

As I finished the song, he whispered; “... You … you learned an Arabic lullaby … for me?”

I nodded, smiling softly; “I know my accent is very American, but the ladies at the cultural center said it was coming along. What do you think?”

“... It is very American, … but it's perfect. … Can … Can you do it again?”

I nodded, singing the song again. He curled up and I gently trailed a finger down the bridge of his nose, lulling him to sleep. His eyes fluttered shut, and soon he was snoring softly.

In the morning I woke to Jason's fingers delicately tracing designs on my shoulder. I smiled softly, leaning in to kiss his chest. “Morning~”

“Morning, doll~ … merry Christmas~”

“Merry Christmas~ … ready for your present?”

He chuckled softly. “I don't know, am I?”

“Not that kind of present, silly.” I chuckled, stretching as I sat up and grabbed a big bag of presents. I found Jason's, offering him the red and gold wrapping. He kissed me gently before carefully popping it open. He slowly smiled, looking over the handmade book inside. The cover was a watercolor painting of the pair of us, Jason cupping my chin about to kiss me. It was a perfect mirror of the kiss scene in the 2005 adaptation of Pride and Prejudice. He carefully opened the book, reading the scenes I had dutifully transcribed; scenes that reminded me of us.

“It's beautiful, baby girl, thank you.” he smiled softly, pulling me into a kiss. “I love you~”

I grinned, wrapping my arms around his neck. “I love you too~”

He smiled softly, offering me a silver wrapped gift. “Your turn.” I grinned, opening it to find a book; ‘Love in Prose: An Annotator's Book of Love Poems'. “I was going to write something for you, but … well, you know I struggle with words. I try, but they don't come to me the way they come to you, you always know what to say. ... I did find some of my own words; they're not very pretty, but I can promise you that they are true. But, mostly I found myself quoting the experts. ... So, I thought it best to just … give you the experts.”

I flipped open the book, reading the first poem; Annabel Lee by Edgar Allan Poe.

“Oh, Jason … it's perfect.” I swallowed the lump forming in my throat, hugging him tight. “I love it! Thank you~”

He hugged back, kissing my temple. We cuddled like that for a little while, until a soft knock on the door interrupted the quiet.

“Todd? Sister?”

“Morning, kiddo~”

He popped the door open, still wearing his pj's. “Hi. Breakfast is ready.”

I nodded, getting up. “Thanks Damian!”

Jason stretched, popping his back, and picked up the presents. “Ok, let's go!”

We met everyone in the family room, and Jason set the presents out. I passed out hand painted snowflake shaped platters loaded with cookies, brownies, and fudge. Damian's platter had extra ma'amoul, but everyone got a selection. Jason passed out mugs filled with hot chocolate packets, candy canes, and marshmallow toppers.

“So cute! Did you guys paint these yourselves?” Steph grinned.

I nodded, beaming. “We went to the place in the mall! Jay did the mugs, and I did the platters! And we made the treats ourselves!”

Everyone got comfy, and more presents were passed out. Bruce gave everyone gift cards for a bunch of fun things around Gotham; mine included several coffee shops and restaurants near Gotham University, as well as craft stores, and book stores. Jason, Damian and I all also received year passes to the Gotham Zoo. Dick had opted for practical gifts; lots of cozy slippers, favorite snacks, and upgrades for people's home goods. Tim gave high tech presents; lots of hologram art and smart devices. Steph passed around self care items, all luxury brands. Finally, it was my turn. I gave everyone their gifts, chewing my lower lip a bit. I really hoped they liked them.

For Dick, I had embroidered an elephant head onto a royal blue scarf. Elephants are clever, and friendly, and many have a surprising sense of humor, much like Dick. Tim received a handmade journal; the cover had a watercolor painting of a dragon guarding his forest. For Babs, I painted a cityscape, with heavenly sunbeams peaking between the buildings, illuminating otherwise dark corners of the city, just like she did for all of us. For Steph, a purple beanie with green vines and a large white dahlia embroidered on - the flower of kindness.

Damian received an emerald green scarf with a black and gray wolf cub and a silver crescent moon. Wolves are loyal, and even a young pup is fiercely protective of their family. Perfect for my baby brother. Cass's black beanie was embroidered with lavender and rosemary - herbs said to foster clarity, something she seemed to bring to every situation. For Duke, I had embroidered solar motifs in gold on a white scarf. Alfred received a watercolor painting of a fjord; a peaceful, but defensibly sound landscape. And finally, for Bruce, a black scarf with colorful fringe and embroidered stripes representing each of his children.

Dick and Steph put their presents on immediately, complimenting my choices, and Damian shot up to run to the tree. He pulled a large flat rectangle wrapped in green out from behind the tree, bringing it over to me.

“Open this next.”

I nodded, grinning, and carefully peeled the paper away. As soon as I realized what he was giving me, I felt tears threaten to fill my eyes. “Damian, you're giving me the painting?”

He nodded. “You said it made you feel beautiful.”

I nodded quickly, sliding the paper away. The portrait he'd painted of the three of us on my couch was even more beautiful than I'd remembered. “It does. It's incredible. Thank you, baby brother.”

“I haven't seen this painting, what did he do?” Dick craned his neck to look over my shoulder, and I turned the painting around for everyone to see.

“Woah … you're getting so good, Damian!” Steph grinned.

He flushed a bit, clearly pleased. “Thank you…”

Bruce nodded. “It's remarkable.”

Damian smiled, taking his seat again. Jay wrapped an arm around my shoulders, and Duke took his turn passing out gifts.

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

Fanart in the header by: @crowkip

Taglist (open):

@jawdropforkpop @krys0210 @snowy-violet @superthoughts @wordsfromshona @mystic60 @iwannabealocalcryptid @morstuavitamea-a @frosty--giants @arisa191 @prized-jules @phoenix666stuff @dinonuggysandhuggus @anuttellaa @whore-of-many-hot-men @cottage-worm @v1ckycheesue @roastyyytoastyyy @sarakmec @thestarcatcher7297 @stupidlyunhinged @mishkapi @mermaidgirl-11 @bunniboo0015 @bibibusinessman @iimichie

[luvismenu]

Only When It's Us ,, chap: 19 — let go ✎

// series index //

warnings: emotional rollercoaster? silly -> freaky -> cute -> sobbing (but in a good way!) i had to write this as quickly as possible, pls ignore the mistakes, i literally rushed it but i still think it's good !! 😣

nsfw warnings: lots of kissing (IT'S THEIR THING), tittie play, oral (f! recieving), dirty talk-ish??, protected sex.

wc: 5.2k+

note: probably my fave chapter haha

the cafe is quiet, the soft hum of conversation and the occasional clink of cups creating a relaxed atmosphere. it’s not crowded, just a handful of students scattered across tables. you and jungkook decided to meet up here, both having an hour to kill before your next class.

jungkook is sitting beside you, one hand intertwined with yours while his other hand holds his phone as he casually scrolls through his schedule for the day. he’s dressed in his usual casual style; sweatpants and a simple shirt that somehow manages to make him look unfairly attractive. his dark hair falls messily over his forehead, making him look effortlessly sexy. he's literally making it hard for you not to stare and drool over him.

he hums softly, almost to himself. “i could skip the next class if i wanted to,” he says, placing his phone down on the table.

you tilt your head, curious. “oh really?”

he nods, leaning back in his chair, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “yeah, it’s just a lecture. i’ve already got the notes.”

before you can say anything else, a soft voice cuts in. “i am so glad i don’t have any classes after this,”

you glance at the silver haired man infront of you and smile slightly before another familiar voice speaks up. “yeah, guess what? i don’t even have classes anymore,”

jungkook chuckles beside you, his thumb brushing over your hand absentmindedly. “must be nice, hyung,” he teases, and you can’t help but laugh a little.

yoongi and jimin are at your table too. jimin, the silver-haired guy you’ve seen before in a very awkward situation, is here to meet yoongi today. and to your surprise, he talks like you’ve been part of their group for ages, his energy is warm and welcoming, which you really appreciate.

jimin leans back in his chair, turning to yoongi. “you know, i was just thinking about that night.. the one when jason got punched.”

your stomach drops at the mention, and you shift in your seat, suddenly very interested in your cup of coffee.

“i was like, over there in the middle of the dance floor,” jimin starts as he recalls the scene. “i don't even know who i was with, there was some chick grinding on me and then POW! i heard the punch, and everyone just stopped and turned towards the sound. taehyung was already sprinting towards jungkook and jason, and oh my god, i was so ready to cheer for the fight!!!” he pauses. “but then i saw the look on yoongi's face and thought, ‘oop, never mind. gotta make it stop.’”

jimin chuckles and glances at yoongi, who shakes his head, clearly unimpressed by the retelling.

a few days after that night, jason apologized to you. it was awkward but sincere, and you listened as he explained himself, it was clear that he regretted it.

“i messed up, i know that,” he said,“i shouldn’t have pushed things the way i did. and, uh… i totally deserved that punch.”

you raised an eyebrow, surprised that he was acknowledging it so openly. “yeah, well. i am glad you're aware,” you said.

he sighed, looking down for a moment before meeting your eyes again. “i guess it's time for goodbyes? i don't know, i don't think we're gonna get along well, especially since your boyfriend hates me.”

you were surprised at the ‘boyfriend’ title but you chose to ignore it and nodded slowly, “i get that, and yeah.. i think it’s best if we’re not friends anymore. i don’t want to keep dragging things out too,”

you watched him walk away. you haven’t talked to jason since that day, and this time, you knew you made the right choice.

jimin turns his attention to jungkook, who’s now watching him with an amused grin. “besides that, i thought it was fucking awesome, jungkook,”

jungkook chuckles softly, “yeah, getting into a fight with one of your friends is awesome now.”

jimin waves him off. “oh please i don't even care about him, he just happens to know a girl i used to fuck,”

“you’re lucky no one called the cops,” yoongi mutters, taking a sip of his coffee.

“oh, come on,” jimin says, grinning. “it wouldve been legendary, right jungkook?"

“i don't know, legendary or not ,” jungkook glances at you with a soft smile, “i’d rather not have a repeat of that night.”

you nod in agreement, grateful that the topic seems to be winding down. but jimin’s energy is contagious, and even though you’re a little embarrassed, you can’t help but smile at how he's excited about the 'fight'.

“well i think that he deserved it,” jimin announces playfully.

jungkook’s got that cocky grin on his face, the one that always makes you... well, horny. his hand casually slips under the table and onto your thigh. your breath hitches when you feel his fingers inching higher, sliding under your skirt. you glance at him, trying your best to act unbothered, even as your body betrays you with a slight shiver.

“he deserved it, didn’t he?” jungkook asks, his voice low and teasing, his dark eyes locked onto yours. the way he looks at you like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you, makes you so fucking wet.

“yeah,” you manage to say softly, even though you have no idea what he’s talking about. your mind is too preoccupied with the warmth of his hand gently stroking your inner thigh.

jimin interrupts with a playful grin. “i think ___'s awesome too, by the way. i saw that slap from miles away, and i was definitely cheering for you,” he pauses and gives yoongi a quick glance before continuing. “quietly, of course.”

you’re not embarrassed about the slap itself. honestly, to this day, you think she deserved far worse. but having it brought up so openly now, in front of everyone, makes you squirm a little.

“oh, um, yeah haha... thank you.” you mumble, feeling jungkook’s eyes on you. he’s smiling ear to ear, clearly entertained by your reaction.

yoongi clears his throat, his expression neutral but his tone laced with humor. “it’s good to see you two not being petty to each other anymore.”

both of your heads snap towards yoongi at the same time, and you chuckle nervously. jungkook smiles, slowly withdrawing his hand from under your skirt and intertwining it with yours on top of the table like nothing happened.

“we’re trying not to. at least i am,” jungkook says, half-joking, his tone so casual that you roll your eyes at him and without missing a beat, you kick him lightly under the table, shooting him a glare. jungkook shrugs a little and kisses your cheek and you can't help but smile.

yoongi and jimin watch the little exchange between you and jungkook, amusement evident on their faces. yoongi raises an eyebrow, shaking his head lightly, while jimin stifles a laugh behind his hand.

“you two are something else,” yoongi comments under his breath, earning a grin from both of you.

but neither of them presses any further, quickly falling back into their own conversation. jimin leans in closer to yoongi, gesturing something with his hands as he starts talking about something you can’t quite catch. yoongi listens intently, nodding along and occasionally throwing in a remark that makes jimin laugh.

their voices become background noise when you hear your phone ding, drawing your attention to the screen. you pick it up and unlock it, only to see a message from jungkook.

jungkook: you look so fucking hot rn, yk that?

you glance at him, raising an eyebrow as he sits there casually, his face unreadable except for the slight upward curve of his lips.

you type back quickly.

you: keep ur hands to yourself and be patient.

his phone buzzes and he checks the message, his grin widening as he types a reply.

jungkook: i am, baby. if i wasn't i would've ripped that skirt open and eat that pretty cunt of yours right now.

you feel your cheeks heat up, and he chuckles softly, clearly enjoying your reaction. you shove your phone into your lap, determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing you flustered again, but the wetness building between your legs is saying something else.

jungkook is patient.

very patient.

no one's ever been this patient with you (except your parents, of course). your brother used to make fun of you—and still does—for having what he called "ridiculous standards." he’d tease you, saying that anyone who wanted to be with you would need the patience of a saint to deal with your stubbornness. back then, you’d laugh it off. but as you grew older, those words began to settle in your mind, twisting into a belief that maybe he was right.

that maybe no one could keep up with you.

you convinced yourself that your standards were too high, your stubbornness too much to handle. and the more you thought about it, the more it solidified into a quiet truth; you weren’t cut out for relationships.

but then theres jungkook.

he proved you wrong in ways you didn’t even know were possible.

he waited for you, even when you didn’t ask him to. even when you didn’t think anyone would. even when you were being stubborn as fuck.

he had this stubbornness to him that mirrored your own. when you were avoiding him, trying to brush him off with short responses or ignoring him altogether, he didn’t back down. he didn’t let you push him away.

he was like you in some ways, and that’s what made everything so frustrating annd oddly comforting at the same time. both of you were being immature about your argument, refusing to give in or apologize at first. but somehow, through all the tension and standoffs, he didn’t back off, and neither did you. and in a way, that’s what made it work.

and in other ways, you could probably say that... he matched your freak?

it was like he saw through all the walls you put up, and instead of trying to break them down, he just... stood there, waiting for you to let him in.

and when you did, he didn’t disappoint. he met every piece of you with something of his own, and it was messy, and it was imperfect, but it was real.

he’s the most patient man you’ve ever met, and the more time you spend with him, the more you realize just how much that patience means to you.

it’s in the way he looks at you, with so much love and care, as if he already knows you’re worth waiting for.

and you can’t stop loving him more and more for it.

but right now, in this moment, he's anything but patient.

jungkook's kissing you, hot and sloppy. his tongue grazes your bottom lip every few seconds, the kiss is wet, messy, and so fucking good.

he waited until you were done with your classes, but as soon as you stepped out, his patience snapped.

the next thing you knew; he was pulling you to his car and you didn't stop him because oh my god were you horny for this man. now you're in the back seat, ur hands tangled around his neck. one of his hands gripping your waist, and the other sliding under your skirt to rest on your thigh, squeezing it gently.

“fuck—does this remind you of something?” he pulls back, panting. his lips are swollen, and you can barely catch your breath.

“when we first—?” you start, breathless.

“yes,” he says, cutting you off with another kiss. you hum against his lips, melting into the way he moves.

“i fucking love kissing you,” he murmurs against your lips, sending a rush of heat through you.

“kiss me more then,” you challenge, your lips brushing his as you speak.

he pecks your lips once, a smile spreading across his face. “let's go to your place first,” he says, his hand giving your thigh one last squeeze before he pulls back, leaving you wanting more.

. . .

“ow—s-stop!!”

you laugh as jungkook keeps kissing your neck, the way he's doing it is almost like he's tickling you. he smiles against your skin but doesn't stop, his hands firm around your waist as he guides you backward into your room.

“jungkook!” you squeal when you feel his hands slide down your waist to your thighs, and with ease, he lifts you up, carrying you through the doorway.

he finally stops his playful kisses when he reaches your bed, his lips parting from your skin as he looks at you. both of you are smiling, your foreheads gently pressed together as you both savor the moment.

“you're so pretty,” he whispers, his voice soft and he sounds so sincere.

you feel yourself melting at his words.

“are you trying to flirt with me?” you tease, raising an eyebrow,

he tilts his head slightly, mirroring your teasing grin. “yeah, i am,” he says, placing you gently on the bed. he climbs over you, taking off his shirt immediately and leaning down to you.

his lips brushing your jaw as he murmurs, “can’t i flirt with my girlfriend?”

a pause.

your hand cups his cheek, pulling him closer. his lips inch toward yours, but just as he's about to kiss you, you press your palm against his mouth, stopping him.

he frowns, confused, while you smirk teasingly.

“but you ain't my boyfriend,” you say softly, leaning up slightly to place a playful yet soft kiss on the back of your hand still covering his lips. “and i ain't your girlfriend.”

he smiles against your palm, his eyes twinkling with amusement. he gently grabs your wrist, lowering your hand as he leans closer.

“but you don’t want me to see nobody else?” he asks, his lips barely brushing yours, his voice low and matching your teasing tone.

you shake your head slightly, your words barely above a whisper. “and i don’t want you to touch nobody else.” you confess

“but i ain’t your boyfriend?” he counters softly, placing a delicate kiss at the corner of your mouth.

you hum as your eyes flutter shut when you feel the heat of his breath and the gentleness of his lips.

“baby, we don’t have to tell nobody,” he murmurs, his hands slipping under your cardigan to rest on your waist. his thumbs gently rub your skin, the touch sending shivers down your spine.

your smile mirrors his as his lips meet yours again, the softness of the kiss promising more than words ever could.

he kisses you softer this time, and you do too, both of you lost in the intimacy. your hands graze his face, then trail down to his neck, too preoccupied with the moment to think about anything else.

his hands gently lift your cardigan up. you help him remove it, and as the fabric falls away, his touch lingers on your skin. and next comes your bra. he leans back slightly, his lips never straying far from yours, his big hands undoing the clasp at your back. the straps slide down your shoulders, and soon, it's discarded.

his kisses shift lower, finding your neck, and you let out a soft gasp when his lips touch your collarbone. your hands explore his chest, feeling the hard planes of his muscles. his hand catches your wrist gently, and he presses a tender kiss to your knuckles, making your heart flutter.

he moves lower, pressing soft kisses along your chest. his lips linger at the top of your breasts, and his large hand comes up to cup one of them gently.

“fuck…” he breathes out, his voice low and needy. his mouth finds your nipple, yyou can feel the warmth and wetness as he sucks it, his tongue swirling in slow, deliberate motions. his other hand kneads your other breast, his fingers brushing against your sensitive nipple.

your head falls back, a quiet moan escaping your lips, your back arching toward him. he hums against you, the vibrations sending shivers through your body. his mouth moves to your other breast, giving it the same attention, his lips and tongue working in harmony to drive you crazy.

you feel completely consumed by him, every touch and kiss leaving you breathless.

your legs are wrapped tightly around his waist, your skirt bunched up high, revealing the soft fabric of your underwear. his lips trail lower, leaving tender kisses along your stomach and hips, each touch sending waves of pleasure through your body. with care, he slides your skirt off, tossing it aside, leaving you exposed in nothing but your underwear.

“can i?” he asks as his head settles between your thighs, his gaze meeting yours.

“please,” you whisper, your voice trembling with need.

he doesn’t hesitate. his fingers hook into the waistband, sliding your underwear down, baring you completely to him. his lips press soft kisses against your lower lips, and you shiver, your body already aching for him.

his fingers part your folds gently, and he pauses for a moment, his gaze fixated on your glistening arousal. his lips curl into a grin as he looks up at you, his eyes dark. “all for me?” he asks, his voice a husky murmur.

“all for you baby,” you manage to breathe out, your voice filled with desparation.

his grin widens, and he doesn’t waste another second. his tongue glides over your wetness in one slow, delicious stroke, and you gasp as pleasure courses through you. your thighs tighten around his head instinctively, pulling him closer as he devours you.

his tongue circles your clit, flicking and sucking gently before moving to lick broad, teasing strokes along your folds. his lips close around your sensitive bud, and he sucks softly, making you moan his name louder and louder.

“mmmph— so fucking— pussy so delicious,” he mutters, his words muffled against your heat. his voice vibrates against your core, adding to the overwhelming sensations building inside you as he continues his relentless rhythm, savoring every inch of your pussy.

his tongue slowly glides down to your aching hole, he licks up the wetness there and pushes his tongue inside you. he starts tongue fucking you and you swear you see the fucking stars.

he moves his head up and down and you can feel his nose rubbing against your clit whenever he moves. you're literally a moaning mess right now.

“mmmgh— j-jungkook so goodd!!”

he grabs your thighs, tight enough to leave marks. he continues tongue fucking you, occasionally pressing kisses and licks on your clit.

you cum.

it's all sloppy and messy, all over his mouth, and he fucking loves it.

he licks you up so good, moaning at the taste of you as you try to catch your breath.

“fuck me, jungkook, p-please,” you gasp, panting, as he rises from between your thighs, quickly removing the rest of his clothes to reveal his already hard dick, standing tall against his lower stomach.

“fuck me jungkook.. please” you moan

“yeah? you're gonna beg for it baby?” he strokes his cock, grunting a little. “gonna beg for my cock like a good girl?”

“y-yes, please fuck me,” you beg. “need you in me,”

he moans and leans down to kiss you. the kiss is hungry, desparate, sloppy and so fucking hot.

he puts on a condom as fast he can and he positions himself at your entrance, gently tapping his dick on your dripping pussy.

he groans. “you look so fucking sexy,” he says as he looks at you panting and moaning, your pussy clenching around nothing, and he loves the way you look so needy for him.

he pushes his thick length inside you, stretching you wide. you let out whimpers as you grip the bedsheets around you. your walls clenching tightly around his girth. he groans, his face contorting with pleasure as he starts to move slowly, his hips rolling back and forth.

“o-oh fuck, baby— good fucking— pussy—” his words come out muffled as his thrusts grow faster and more urgent, his pubic bone slamming against your clit with each thrust. you're crying out in pleasure, your hands grabbing at his back and arms as you try to hold on. he's fucking you hard and fast, his dick pounding into your pussy like there's no tomorrow.

he sinks deeper, filling you completely, “mmnh!!... so good,” you pant, voice strained with pleasure. with each thrust, he hits that sweet spot inside you, coaxing out whimpers and gasps.

“fuck, baby— love this tight little cunt,” he grunts

the room fills with the sound of skin slapping against skin and your mingled moans. sweat beads on his forehead as he thrusts into you with increasing urgency, chasing his climax.

“g-god, you feel amazing,” he gasps, his eyes locked onto yours. “love how fucking wet and hot you are for me.”

your own pleasure builds, coiling tighter with each thrust. you arch your back, meeting him halfway, desperate for more contact.

“y-yes! yes, oh my god, jungkook—” you cry when picks up the pace even further.

with a final, deep push, he buries himself to the hilt and stills, his body shuddering as he reaches his peak. you can feel his cock twitching inside you.

your legs tremble, fingers digging into his shoulders as you ride out the intense orgasm.

he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close as you both pant and quiver in the aftermath. he presses gentle kisses to your neck

“i fucking love you.”

the next morning, you and jungkook are on the couch, in the living room, wrapped up in each other's warmth. you're peacefully sleeping with your head resting on his lap, while his fingers gently play with your hair. he's shirtless, and you can't resist softly tracing your fingers along his toned stomach and chest.

"you know what i think when i look at you?" jungkook asks, his voice soft as he brushes a strand of hair from your face. you hum in response, not fully awake.

"how can someone be this pretty?" he smiles down at you, his eyes sparkling, and you return the smile.

"back at ya," you reply with a playful grin.

"oh, you think i'm pretty?" he teases, his grin widening.

"yeah, of course! you're the prettiest," you say, your smile growing as you scrunch your nose, which he finds utterly adorable.

"what about hot?" he asks, his voice turning a little more playful. you sit up, shifting to climb onto his lap, and he smiles, his hands finding your waist to help you settle comfortably.

"the hottest," you respond, and he chuckles, a soft laugh escaping his lips.

the two of you lean in to kiss... but!!!

just as your lips are about to meet, the doorbell rings.

you sigh.

"must be the delivery guy or something," you say, and jungkook nods, pulling away from you. as you get up, jungkook gives you a playful slap on your ass. you yelp in surprise, and you can hear him laughing behind you as you make your way to the door.

you open the door, expecting to see a delivery person, but instead, your eyes widen in shock.

"what the fuck?" you say it out loud, clearly surprised by the sight in front of you.

"is this how you treat your guests?" a male voice calls out, sounding amused.

jungkook notices your surprise and quickly gets up, walking towards you to see what’s going on. "what happened, baby? who is it—" he stops mid-sentence when he sees a tall man standing in front of you. the man is holding a suitcase, dressed in a sharp navy blue suit, his dark hair perfectly styled, and his face... perfect.

“who is this?” the man asks, his eyes never leaving jungkook, waiting for you to say something.

"who are you?" jungkook asks him, his protective instincts kicking in as he pulls you behind him.

the man frowns.

“geez guys, stop it!” you step forward, standing between them now. jungkook's eyes follow you, a little confused.

"jungkook, this is my.. older brother," you say, and jungkook's eyes widen in surprise. you turn to cal and continue. "and this is jungkook, my... well, you know—"

"oh, i know," cal interrupts, eyeing jungkook with a pointed look, his gaze scanning jungkook's shirtless body. jungkook fumbles awkwardly, trying to cover himself as he looks around for his shirt, only to realize you're wearing it.

oops, you think.

“nice to meet you, i am jeon jungkook,” jungkook introduces himself, his voice a little awkward as he bows slightly to your brother. he’s clearly trying to make a good impression, but the situation he's in right now is the worst.

your brother glances at you, and you subtly mouth, ‘be nice’ to him. cal rolls his eyes, clearly not amused, but he lets out a small sigh and turns back to jungkook, holding out his hand.

jungkook, not missing a beat, reaches out and shakes his hand firmly, though still trying to mask the awkwardness.

“i’m calvin.”

“is this how you live?” your brother muses, his eyes scanning the room as he settles onto the couch where you and jungkook had been cuddling just a moment ago, taking in the surroundings with a critical eye.

“mind your own business,” you reply as you set a glass of water on the table. cal grabs it, grinning at you as he takes a sip.

“i was gonna say it suits you,” cal remarks, casually taking a few gulps of the water before setting it down on the table.

“okay, mr. richie rich,” you say, raising an eyebrow, and cal smiles.

just then, jungkook comes out of your bedroom, now fully clothed, walking towards you and cal. cal’s eyes narrow slightly, his expression hard to read. you catch it, but before he can comment, you give your brother a little kick in the leg. cal scowls, not expecting it.

you move over to jungkook, and he instantly wraps an arm around you, and he feels a little more at ease. cal notices this shift in the air, a slight smirk tugging at his lips, but he doesn’t comment on it.

“why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” you ask your brother, sitting down next to jungkook on the other couch, trying to act casual.

“i did tell you,” cal points out, his tone unbothered.

“no, you didn’t—” you pause, thinking for a moment. “that was weeks ago!”

cal just shrugs, his face unapologetic. “i told you, didn’t i?”

you roll your eyes, clearly not impressed.

cal leans back on the couch. "oh yeah, mom and dad sent you some stuff," he says nonchalantly, as if it’s no big deal.

you furrow your brows, a little confused. "what stuff?" you ask, glancing between him and the suitcase he brought in with him.

"in the suitcase," cal replies, pointing at the bag. "you know, your old stuff. i also saw that plushie you always used to play with."

at the mention of the plushie, you feel something in your chest. you don’t even think twice before getting up and walking over to the suitcase. jungkook watches your every movement, curious.

you open it carefully, your hands trembling slightly as you sift through your old belongings. when your fingers brush against the familiar fabric of the plushie, you pull it out, immediately hugging it tightly to your chest.

cal watches, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. "yeah, that ugly fat guy," he comments, and you glare at him and he just laughs softly, immediately apologising.

you clutch the plushie closer, but as you look down at it, you notice a small tag attached to it, and you read the words on the tag aloud: “we realised that we can let go now.”

the realization hits you, and a wave of emotions rush over you.

mom and dad..

it makes your throat tighten and your eyes well up with tears. you blink rapidly, trying to keep them at bay, but it’s hard. you hug your totoro plushie tighter, a pout forming on your lips.

both jungkook and cal notice it. jungkook smiles softly, his eyes warm, while cal looks at you, his eyes softening.

for a moment, cal doesn’t say anything. he watches as you hug the plushie tightly, your fingers clutching it as though you’re afraid to let it go. despite the teasing earlier, he can’t help but see you as the same little sister who used to carry that plushie around everywhere.

he remembers the way you’d refuse to sleep without it, how you’d drag it around by one arm. you were always so stubborn. you were always insisting that it wasn’t just a toy, it was your “friend.” and now, seeing you holding it again, it’s as if time has rewound.

he can only see you as the same little girl, clutching your plushie like it’s your whole world, and it makes his heart ache a little— but in a good way.

“we’re proud of you, you know,” cal says suddenly, his voice breaking the silence.

you and jungkook both look at him, a little surprised.

“yes, we,” he repeats, his smile growing as he starts to list, “me, mom, dad, totoro, noisy boy-” he chuckles as he recalls some memories. “we’re all proud of you, little star.”

his words hit you hard. it breaks you, completely.

you bury your face in totoro, clutching the plushie tightly as the tears begin to fall freely. soft, shaky sobs escape your lips, and cal doesn’t hesitate. he stands and moves to kneel beside you on the floor, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close. his hand strokes your arm gently, up and down, a comforting rhythm as you cry into his side.

“i missed you,” you manage to say through the tears, your voice muffled against his shoulder.

cal’s smile softens even more. “me too,” he whispers, his voice quiet but filled with warmth.

jungkook kneels down in front of you, his gaze filled with nothing but tenderness. cal looks at him, their eyes meeting for a moment, and with a small, approving smile, cal nods at him.

jungkook seems to understand immediately. he reaches out, gently pulling you into his arms. you let yourself be held, your sobs gradually quieting as he rubs soothing circles on your back.

cal watches the two of you, his chest tightening in a bittersweet way. he sees how jungkook wipes away your tears with careful hands, murmuring something about totoro that makes you chuckle softly through the emotions.

jungkook presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for just a moment before he pulls back to look at you. his eyes full of love and reassurance, and it’s enough to make cal feel like maybe, just maybe, you’re in good hands.

and all cal can think as he watches the two of you is,

we can let go now.

note: one more chapter :(( i have so much to say about owiu i am gonna cry (already did writing the last part,, idk i am js really emo today)

📜 series taglist: @deepikhaprakash @rjooniesdimples @wombatkitten127 @minaateez @myjungkookthighs

📜 permanent taglist: @internetrando64 @jkvias @lovieku @deluluisdasolulu @ddanasjk @onlyforyoukook @diamondjeon @nnybtitts08 @lil0u0 @butnotmontana @fr0ggieth1nk @minimoninini @whoa-jo @lola75111 @iswearimover5feetall @rispwr @genevieveeeee

@134340-kr @mar-lo-pap @fluttershypoo @kyuupii @https-mei @elinaki92 @jungkookmyoneandonlybaby @hoseokteardrop @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @jaykay-world @jmscaffeine @libra04 @beigerin @nikidream24 @svnbangtansworld @mimi1097 @kookoo-kachoo @junecat18 @iheartchanelle

[mxtheialurks]

I'm here, baby. Avis Amberg x !Singer Reader

Hello there, so I noticed there were not a lot of Patti LuPone fics. Or... perhaps I have already read all of them...? But here it is, a 'Hollywood' fanfic between Avis Amberg and !Singer Reader.

Word count: 2928 Warnings: none

------------------------------------------------------------

“Get your head out of the gutter, kid!” Ernie yells, snapping you out of your thoughts. You look down and realize with a jolt that you’ve overfilled a customer’s gas tank, the fuel spilling over the edges.

“Oh my God, Ernie! I’m so sorry, I—”

Ernie sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Save it, kid. Go to my office. We need to have a little chat,” he says, his voice calm but heavy with disappointment.

From the small office window, you watch as Ernie talks to the man whose car you overfilled. Your stomach twists in knots as the man laughs, pulls out a crisp hundred-dollar bill, and drives off, still chuckling.

Inside, you sit anxiously, rubbing your temples as your mind spirals. Am I going to get fired? Suspended without pay? The possibilities whirl around your head like a storm until Ernie finally walks in. He lights a cigarette, inhales deeply, then coughs out the smoke.

Before you can say a word, he cuts you off. “Alright, what’s going on with you, Y/N? You’ve been so out of it lately. Did that guy say something to you? Something about... Dreamland?”

Your heart races, and a nervous sweat beads on your forehead. Ernie notices immediately, his expression softening as he drops to one knee in front of you.

“Tell me,” he says gently. “Did he?”

Tears spring to your eyes, and your voice wavers as you manage to stammer, “Yes, and I—I just froze...”

Without hesitation, Ernie pulls you into a hug, his large arms wrapping around you protectively. “There, there, kid,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “You know you don’t have to do anything like that, right? You’re here to help me out, not deal with people looking for a good time. That is not why you’re here.” He reminds you. 

He pulls back, his voice breaking slightly as he continues, “I know how hard it’s been at home since your mom—my sister—passed away.”

You sniffle, wiping your eyes, as Ernie stands up and pats your shoulder. “The guy whose tank you overfilled? He’s an old buddy of mine. Didn’t realize you were Martha’s daughter until I told him. He laughed it off and even handed me a hundred bucks as an apology.”

He reaches into his shirt pocket, pulls out the bill, and presses it into your hand. “Now, go wipe those tears and buy yourself something nice, okay?”

A small smile breaks through your tears as you hug him tightly.

“Happy 23rd birthday, kid,” he says softly, kissing your forehead.

--------------------------------

After shedding your gas station uniform, you head to the town’s boutique, Uncle Ernie’s words ringing in your ears. It’s not often you get the chance—or the means—to splurge on yourself.

The boutique feels like another world, the faint scent of vanilla candles mixing with the polished wood floors and soft hum of instrumental music. Your gaze drifts instinctively to the rack where that dress once hung.

You’ve been dreaming about it for months—a red dress with a daring slit that cuts mid-thigh. It was perfect in every way, except for the price tag. You’d promised yourself you’d buy it someday, but that day never came. Life has a way of pushing dreams aside for bills and groceries.

“Looking for something, miss?” a cheerful clerk asks, breaking your thoughts.

“Yes,” you reply, hesitantly. “Do you still have that red dress? The one with the slit—”

Before you can finish, she nods knowingly. “Wait here.”

You tap your fingers against the counter as she disappears into the back. The minutes stretch long, and your heart pounds with a mix of hope and apprehension. Then she returns, holding it.

“Here you go,” she says with a smile, presenting the dress like it’s a treasure.

Your breath catches as you take it in your hands. The fabric is even softer than you remember, the color more vibrant. Without a second thought, you pull out your wallet, the crisp bills from Uncle Ernie making it possible.

Moments later, you step out of the boutique, a grin spreading across your face. The dress swings from your hand, a symbol of something rare and precious—joy that’s yours alone.

Back at your apartment, you hold the boutique bag in hand, still glowing with excitement when a voice startles you.

“What’d you get, kid?”

“AHHH!” you scream, nearly jumping out of your skin. “Jesus fucking Christ, Ernie! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” you exclaim, clutching your chest and gasping for air.

“What? Can’t an uncle visit his darling niece?” he replies, unbothered, taking a drag on his ever-present cigar.

“We just saw each other earlier! What do you want?” you ask, exasperated.

He chuckles, his laugh as gruff as his demeanor. “Well, kid, I figured you’d spend your birthday alone in this crappy apartment, so I’ve got a surprise for you. I’m taking you to dinner—me, you, Aunt Ellen, and my good friend Avis.”

You blink, caught off guard. “Avis? You mean Avis Amberg? The owner of Ace Studios?”

Ernie nods smugly.

“Why would a big shot like her come to a birthday dinner for someone she doesn’t even know? Ernie, I’m nobody—”

“Kid, nobody is nobody in this town,” he interrupts, jabbing the air for emphasis. “Once Avis meets you, she’ll see what I see—someone who’s something.”

You snort at his dramatics.

“Come on, Y/N,” he persists, rubbing your shoulders. “You’ve always wanted to be a singer, right? Who knows—maybe she’ll have you record backing tracks for her movies. Whaddya say, hmm?”

You let out a resigned sigh. “Alright, fine. Let’s get this over with.”

“That’s the spirit!” he exclaims, slapping his thigh with glee. “Now doll up. Wear that sparkly red dress of yours—”

You freeze, narrowing your eyes at him. “Wait a minute. How do you know I have a ‘sparkly red dress’ in this bag?” You hold up the sheathed garment for emphasis.

Ernie smirks, his cigar bobbing in the corner of his mouth. “Kid, you’ve been gawking at that dress every time we passed Ursula’s boutique. You think I don’t notice? Besides,” he adds with a mischievous waggle of his eyebrows, “Ursula and I go way back.”

Your face twists in disgust as you chuck a shoe at him. He ducks out of the way, laughing as he retreats toward the door.

“See you at seven, kid! Don’t be late!” he calls out before disappearing with a slam of the door.

You sigh, glancing at the dress. “This better be worth it,” you mutter, already dreading the evening ahead.

--------------------------------

Seven on the dot, just like Ernie said. You stand in front of the restaurant, purse clutched tightly in hand. The cool evening air does little to calm the nervous energy coursing through you. Dolled up and dressed to the nines, you mutter under your breath, “Simple birthday dinner, my ass.”

The thought of the Avis Amberg being inside makes your stomach twist. What if you say the wrong thing? Or laugh awkwardly?

After a minute of deliberation—and a deep, shaky breath—you step inside. Warm air envelops you, carrying with it the sweet and savory aromas of high-end cuisine. The soft hum of conversation and clinking glasses fills the room, but it does little to drown out your own thoughts.

At the front desk, you muster your courage. “Reservation for Ernest West?”

The receptionist smiles and nods, promptly leading you to a private room.

On the way there, your thoughts race. A private room? How much did Ernie shell out for this? And with Avis Amberg as an audience? You grip your purse tighter. Oh boy, this is going to be interesting.

The doors to the room swing open, revealing a warm and intimate space. Ernie is the first to greet you, his arms wide as he strides toward you with his trademark exuberance.

“There she is! The woman of the hour!” he exclaims, pulling you into a hearty hug.

Your eyes sweep over the table. To Ernie’s right sits Ellen Kincaid, his ever-gracious wife, offering you a warm smile. Beside Ellen is none other than Avis Amberg herself. The moment your gaze lands on her, it’s as though the world stops spinning.

Avis is a vision in red, every detail impeccable—from her perfectly coiffed updo to the shimmering jewelry that catches the light with every movement. You glance down at your own dress, also red, and feel a pang of insecurity. Great, of all colors to wear tonight...

But Avis is unfazed, her sharp eyes already reading you, assessing you in a way that makes your palms sweat.

Ernie, oblivious to your internal panic, guides you to the table and pulls out a chair. Ellen stands to greet you, kissing both your cheeks warmly, while Avis remains seated, her gaze fixed on you like a hawk sizing up its prey.

When your eyes finally meet, she smiles—a slow, deliberate curve of her lips. Extending her hand, she says, “And you must be the birthday girl.”

You take her hand, shaking it a little too eagerly. “I am—”

“Avis Amberg,” you finish for her, your voice steady despite your nerves.

Her smile sharpens into a grin, her grip firm but elegant. “Well, well, looks like someone did their homework.”

You laugh awkwardly, the sound escaping before you can stop it. Realizing how unpolished it sounds, you quickly cease, pressing your lips together. Ernie catches it, grinning as he moves to his seat. He leans down to kiss Ellen, who playfully smacks his chest.

“Avis, you know us Wests. We always do our homework, ain’t that right, sweetheart?” he says with a wink in Ellen’s direction.

She chuckles, shaking her head. “Yes, darling, you do. Oh, Avis, if I haven’t mentioned it yet, our darling Y/N here is an aspiring singer—with a voice that could bring down stadiums.”

Avis raises a perfectly arched brow, her red lips curving into a faint smile as she looks at you. “Hmm? If Ellen here speaks so highly of you, perhaps I should have you perform at one of my events.”

Your face flushes as a nervous smile spreads across your lips. “Oh no, Miss. Amberg, I wouldn’t want to intrude,” you ramble, trying to wave off the compliment. “Singing is more of a hobby, really. I couldn’t possibly be as good as Ellen says.”

Ellen and Ernie exchange incredulous looks.

“Nonsense, kid!” Ernie exclaims, his voice booming with pride. “I’ve heard you sing plenty while working the register, and believe me, my customers stick around just to hear you. Take some credit for once, will ya?”

His laughter fills the room, and even Avis seems amused as she leans forward, her interest clearly piqued.

“You let your niece work at your gas station, Ernie?” she asks, her tone half-curious, half-teasing. “How is it that I’ve never seen her?”

Ernie smirks, waving his hand dismissively. “That’s because you never get out of your goddamn Cadillac, Avis!”

The table bursts into laughter, and for a moment, the tension in your chest eases. Still, the realization dawns on you: Avis Amberg is a regular at Golden Tip.

No wonder the boys at the station always seemed to have a little extra spring in their step, boasting about their big tips from “the lady in red.” So it was her all along—the powerful woman who spent money like it grew on trees.

As the laughter dies down, Avis rests her chin on her hand, her sharp gaze locking onto you. “Well, Y/N, it sounds like you’ve been hiding a talent that the world deserves to hear.”

Her words make your heart race, but the warmth in her tone sparks something new: hope.

“Thank you, Miss Amberg,” you say, your tone polite but still tinged with nervousness.

“Oh, baby,” she waves a hand dismissively, her bracelets jangling softly, “you may call me Avis. You’re making my back ache with all the pleasantries.”

You chuckle lightly, a genuine smile breaking through as you nod. “Well then, thank you, Avis.”

Her lips curl into a grin, pleased by your adjustment. “That’s better,” she says, leaning back in her chair with an air of satisfaction. “Now, tell me, Y/N—what’s your favorite song to sing?”

Her question catches you off guard, and you falter for a moment. “Oh, well, I guess it depends,” you say, fiddling with the edge of your napkin. “I like singing jazz, mostly. Billie Holiday, Ella Fitzgerald… their music speaks to me.”

Avis’s eyes light up, the mention of such timeless legends clearly striking a chord. “Ah, the classics,” she says, a touch of admiration in her voice. “Music that comes from the soul. You have good taste.”

Ernie beams at the exchange, clearly proud of you. “See, Avis? Told you the kid’s got it. I’d bet my bottom dollar she could belt out something right here and knock our socks off.”

You quickly shake your head, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “Oh, no, I couldn’t! Not here, not now,” you stammer. “I mean, I’m flattered, but I’m not exactly… prepared.”

Ellen chimes in with a gentle laugh, “Oh, don’t mind Ernie. He loves putting people on the spot. But if you ever want to perform, Y/N, I’m sure Avis would love to hear you.”

Avis nods, swirling her glass of wine thoughtfully. “Indeed. There’s something about live music, especially when it comes from a genuine place. You’d be surprised how often talent like yours gets lost in the noise of this town.”

Her words carry weight, and for a moment, you feel as though she’s speaking directly to your deepest fears. Lost in the noise. Ernie, ever the optimist, claps his hands together. “Lost? Not this kid! She’s got a voice people’ll remember. Ain’t that right, Y/N?”

You give a shy smile, nodding slightly. “I guess so. I mean… I hope so.”

Avis’s gaze lingers on you for a moment longer before she raises her glass. “To hope, then. And to talent that deserves a stage.”

Everyone joins in the toast, raising their glasses with a clink. You sip your drink, the warmth of the moment settling into your chest. For the first time tonight, you feel like you truly belong at the table.

The dinner continued with laughter, stories, and a surprising ease that settled over the table. Ernie, true to form, dominated the conversation with his larger-than-life anecdotes, and Ellen balanced him out with her gentle humor. Avis occasionally chimed in, her remarks sharp and observant, but never unkind.

By the time dessert arrived, you were almost convinced you could get through the night without further incident. That is, until Avis set down her fork, leaned forward, and fixed you with a look that felt both intimidating and encouraging.

“Y/N,” she began, her tone measured, “tell me, what do you really want? In this town, I mean. Surely you’re not content to spend your life working at your uncle’s gas station.”

The question landed heavily, and the table went quiet. Ernie gave you a small nod of encouragement, while Ellen offered a reassuring smile.

You swallowed, your fingers gripping the edge of your napkin. “I… I want to sing,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I want to perform. To be out there in front of many people, the spotlight is only for me. My voice ringing deliciously in their ears, I want to become a broadway star” 

Avis studied you for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Watching you enunciate every word, how your tongue sticks to the roof of your mouth. Her gaze lingers for a while there and when you finally finish she meets your eyes with enthusiasm. 

“Let me tell you something about this town,” she said, her voice soft but commanding. “It doesn’t matter who you know—or don’t know. What matters is how badly you want it and what you’re willing to do to get it. Talent can only take you so far. The rest? That’s grit.”

You nodded, absorbing her words, though a part of you still doubted your place in a world as ruthless as hers.

Avis seemed to sense this. “You’ve got a spark, Y/N. I can see it. The question is, what are you going to do with it?”

Before you could answer, Ernie jumped in, his voice full of enthusiasm. “That’s what I’ve been telling her! She’s got the goods, Avis. She just needs the right person to see it.”

Avis’s lips curved into a sly smile. “Well, Ernie, perhaps that person is sitting right here.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “You mean…?”

“I mean,” Avis said, setting her glass down, “I’m planning a charity gala next month. I always need fresh talent for Ace Studios. I have been thinking about it, expanding from motion pictures to Broadway plays and musical numbers. It’s not a guarantee, but if you’re willing to audition, I could give you a shot.”

The room seemed to tilt as her words sank in. An audition? For Avis Amberg? It felt too good to be true.

You managed a shaky nod. “I—I’d love to. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Avis said, her tone playful but firm. “The real work starts now, baby.”

------------------------------------------------------------ A/N: Will do a part two or more if you're interested in reading more. Hehe.

[mattsnight]

ex!matt x reader - it happened ✧₊⁺

You find yourself tangled in Matt's sheets. He looks down at you, his lips smashed against yours as he pushes himself into your tight hole. His hands hold a tight grip on your thighs as he pulls you closer, thrusting deeper. "Damn it," he whispers, his voice hoarse.

You had been partying all night. I mean.. it’s the 26th of december and you’re very much alone, so it’s okay, right? You had been drinking a lot too, which wasn’t exactly what you had planned. The alcohol is streaming through your veins at this point and it’s making you lose control. That’s pretty much how you ended up in bed with your ex boyfriend Matt.

You quickly put the thoughts aside as Matt starts to thrusts faster and harder. His arms tighten around your waist, pulling you flush against him. He leans down and captures your lips in a rough, demanding kiss. “Oh matt!” You cry out as you get closer and closer to the edge.

He breaks the kiss to trail open-mouthed kisses down your neck. His arms wrap around your legs, pulling them up around his waist, opening you up to him even more. “Shit you’re so tight.. fuckin’ missed this.” He manages to say.

His name is a scream on your lips as he pounds into you relentlessly, his hips slapping against your ass. The sound echoes through his room, mixed with his own grunt of effort and pleasure. Then, he buries his face in your shoulder, his teeth sinking into the soft flesh as he loses control. “Fuck.. gonna cum.”

He digs his fingers into your hips as he keeps grinding against you, hitting that perfect spot inside - the one that makes you lose all coherent thought. He growls against your neck, his pace erratic now. "Cum with me, baby... let me feel you,"

“Oh god matt.. yes fuck!”

You wake up, noticing Matt beside you, who is sound asleep —lying on his back with his mouth slightly open. You can hear his slow, steady breaths, and the occasional light snore. The room was fairly dark, thanks to the blinds being drawn shut tight, but you could still make out the details. It was...not messy, necessarily, but definitely cluttered. There were piles of clothes at some places, and a few dirty dishes on the desk.

Your eyes fall back to Matt lying next to you, his messy brown hair falling across his forehead. He slowly stirs, shifting a little as his eyes flutter open. He sees you awake, staring at him, and he stretches. He turns to look at you, a faint grin forming on his lips. "Mornin'," he murmurs, his voice raspy.

“Don’t ‘morning’ me, what am i doing here?!”

Matt props himself onto his elbows and lets out another yawn. He gives an amused chuckle, clearly enjoying how out of the loop you are. He gives you a smirk, looking at you like he's in a playful mood. "Well, let me see," he teases, "we had a few drinks and we definitely had sex.. and that’s really how it went."

“What?” You ask, clearly confused. He grins at your reaction, loving how confused you are. He moves to sit up, leaning against the headboard. He pulls the covers over his lap slightly. "You heard me," he says in a matter-of-fact tone, "we had sex and you seemed to love it."

“This shouldn’t have happened.” You groan, putting your hands in your hair. "Why not?" he asks. He leans back against the headboard, his gaze on you intently. He pats the spot next to him, seemingly suggesting you sit down. You don’t listen to him. “You know damn well that we broke up for a reason.”

Matt shrugs, feigning indifference, but there's a hint of amusement in his eyes. He glances at the empty space next to him again, patting it in a gesture for you to join him. “And you know damn well you wanted this, y/n.”

“I didn’t! I was drunk and completely out of it!” You yell back. Frustration streams through your body. “Im leaving and don’t try to contact me in any way.” You get back into your clothes before exiting the room, not looking back.

merry christmas everybody!! ❤️

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

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

I WANT HIM I NEED HIM I LOVE HIM

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

He’s totally smitten, Jesus Christ 🫠

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

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

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

Yeah, she’s me 🥲

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Awwww please, giggling and kicking my feet 🥹

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

OMG 😭🫠

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

JESUS FUCK ❤️‍🔥

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🫠🫠🫠

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

Yes, please, I need this right now

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

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

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

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

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

OH MY GOD PLS 🫠

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

He’s so damn cute 🥹

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

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

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

Awwww OMG I’m going insaneeee

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

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

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

Heheheheheh 🥰

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

Yas, baby 🥹

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

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

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

Thanks for sharing your art with us!

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

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

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

@katiexpunk : here is part two, thank you for being patient, i hope the wait was worth it <3 tags: modern cowboy joel au/ team roper joel and tommy, no sarah, enemies to lovers, dbf lite, choose your own age gap, small town romance, city girl returns to the country, miscommunication, horsegirl!joel, smut, ridin' that cowboy bareback as the good lord intended, no beta-mistakes are my fault for writing at 4am and for spending the afternoon fighting god to get this website to accept me thanks to: @syd-djarin, @auteurdelabre, and @lovely-vamp-princess for support, eyes, and ideas, etc.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You sleep alright?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’ve got this.

You’ve got this.

You don’t got this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was mesmerizing. Infuriatingly so.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You had every right to be upset.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His centering presence somehow has you rocked off balance.

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

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

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

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

But you don’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And you’ve got no idea how much I—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is it, baby?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can’t help it.” Joel shrugs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joel shakes his head, deflecting the comment.

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

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

Joel gives you another warm look with unspoken words.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

@bbyanarchist @94namkooksworld

[neocitylights]

LOVERS ROCK — a rockstar galaxy short story

“Our story is more complicated than this, I was basically crushing on you before even knowing who you were.” GENRE: Romance, fluff, non-idol au, songwriter!Mark WORD COUNT: 2.5k

NOTES: A little follow-up on our favorite neighbors! Can be read as a standalone but it references a few things from the main story. Please let me know what you think, it’s gonna make my day!

Pushing the shop’s door open, you’re immediately greeted by the rich, strong aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the comforting warmth of the cozy place, momentarily shielding you from a chilly late afternoon.

An easy glance at the counter is more than enough for you to quickly spot Mark. Even through his back, the little details are unmistakable—the dark blue cap backwards, his beloved wired earphones around his neck and the out-of-place Sonny Angel keyring you’d put on his bag months ago making him stand out.

Grateful that the faculty meeting had ended earlier than expected, you decided to crash his plans. 

Every other Friday, you and Mark take turns buying dinner for each other, spending most of your nights as neighbors paying a visit next-door. Today, as it was his turn, you’d specifically mentioned craving the peanut butter cup cookies from your favorite coffee shop instead, Mark immediately taking the mission of buying them for you.

After taking a wild guess at his schedule—with a little help from Johnny—you hoped to catch him just in time to accompany him home as he’s done a million times for you.

Holding a giggle at your usual barista’s surprised eyes, you finally approach Mark, furtively slipping your arms around his waist before reaching over to rest your chin on his shoulder. 

As you feel him tense under your touch, visibly startled, the laugh escapes before you can stop it. “Baby, it’s me!”

He immediately whips his head around, the frown on his face melting to a softer expression upon seeing you. “Oh my God,” Mark starts, a groan escaping from his lips as his body immediately relaxes. “You scared the shit out of me just now.”

Still laughing, you squeeze him tighter, pressing a kiss his shoulder. “Are you surprised?”

“Jisung looked so shocked out of a sudden, I thought it was a creep or something,” he says, rolling his eyes in a mix of exasperation and confusion. “Damn, my heart’s beating so fast.”

At his words, you step around to face him and press a hand to Mark’s chest. “I just wanted to surprise you,” you say half-heartedly, amused at his rapid heartbeat. “It’s good to know I still have an effect on you, though.”

“You’ve always had it, baby.” Mark chuckles fondly, finally greeting you with his usual kiss to your cheek. “What’s up? Did you skip your work meeting today?”

“I’m a responsible faculty member now, I would never do that,” you argue, shooting him a playful eye-roll. “It just started a little earlier than usual, that’s all.”

As he pulls you against his side, Mark’s attention turns back to the shop’s menu again. “You’re just in time, I was just about to order,” he explains, scanning the list of drinks. “Jisung says the peanut butter cookies are coming out in a bit.”

No longer sidetracked by your boyfriend’s reaction, you glance over the counter just in time to spot Jisung now approaching with a fresh tray of your cookies, the barista looking nothing but amused at the way your face lights up at it. 

“Jisungie! Sorry for ignoring you!” you apologize, immediately extending a hand for a high-five. “Thank you for being my partner in crime just now, by the way.”

The boy laughs, reciprocating your motion with a satisfied nod. “That was really funny. I’ve never seen someone so scared over a hug before.”

“What about you?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as Jisung frowns in confusion, pointing at himself for a second. “Did you ask that girl out already or what?”

Mark gasps at your side, a smile instantly growing on his face as he looks between you and Jisung. “What the—? Jisung likes someone? How come you’ve never told me? Who is it?”

“A girl from his class,” you explain to Mark, side-eyeing the boy with a giddy chuckle. “She’s really pretty and I’m 100% sure that she likes him back.”

“How do you know?”

“—I don’t think she does.”

As Mark and Jisung speak at the same time, you can’t help a laugh, the pair exchanging shocked glances with each other. 

“He showed me some of her texts,” you clarify, giving the blushing boy a pointed look. “I know the signs of an interested girl because I’ve been one too, you know. She definitely likes him too.”

Your boyfriend frowns, offering you a hesitant look. “I... don’t think I realized you were interested in me through your texts, though.”

“Our story is more complicated than this, I was basically crushing on you before even knowing who you were,” you counter, rolling your eyes at the grin growing on Mark’s face. “Besides, you haven’t seen the way she looks at him, baby.”

Looking nothing but betrayed, Mark feigns a pained look. “ You’ve already met her and I’m only hearing about this now?”

“It was an accident,” Jisung interrupts rushedly, offering an apologetic look at your boyfriend. “It wasn’t really a meeting, she was just around studying for her test—”

“Studying for her test here, instead of the university’s library,” you point out, grinning as the barista groans, having heard your argument a million times by now. “It’s not a coincidence she chose to study here out of all places after you specifically told her you worked here, Ji.”

Mark suddenly whistles after a second, both you and Jisung turning to him. 

As he raises an eyebrow at the boy, your boyfriend nods solemnly, almost as if he’s had a sudden epiphany. “Damn. She likes you, dude.”

The sound of the door interrupts the conversation, startling Jisung into work mode again as a couple of clients enter the shop. 

Watching in amusement as the barista knowingly prepares your favorite cookies to-go before rushing around between the drinks and taking Mark’s card, soon enough you’re bidding him goodbye, under his shy promise of asking his girl out until your next visit.

Outside, Mark immediately holds his hand out as he falls into step beside you. “Hey, I forgot to ask you how’d you know I was here.”

“Johnny,” you answer, chuckling at the look of realization that settles on his face. “I called him earlier, said that I wanted to surprise you but didn’t know the time you’d leave work.”

“So that’s why he was being so weird today,” he says, shaking his head with a chuckle. “He kept asking me when I was leaving, I almost thought he was mad at me or something.”

“Sorry.” You grimace, giving him a half-hearted grin before squeezing his hand. “I’ll ask Hyuck next time, then.”

Mark rolls his eyes, still smiling. “That’s just worse for both of us, you’re better off with Johnny.”

At the mention of his friends, he shares a few tidbits of work while you walk home—the girl Johnny accidentally ended up scooping at a bar is doing wonders as their newest artist, Jaehyun’s concert at a big venue in California sold-out in a few hours, and Haechan’s just... doing Haechan things, apparently having roped his girlfriend into an impromptu trip to Las Vegas.

Everything feels like second nature when you finally step into the building. At the elevator, Mark presses the button for his floor without a second thought, too occupied with the way you’re cozied up against his side. 

Now that you’re more than familiar with his apartment, you feel welcomed almost as if it’s your own.

Sometimes, it’s funny to think that the place was a mystery to you once, holding the very secret that ultimately led Mark into your life. Very few things have changed since then—his vinyls and CDs are still filling every inch of the shelves, instruments propped at every corner, a few figurines here and there. 

A little guilty for leaving your own stuff around too, your boyfriend might now also have piles of books in addition to his albums, too much make-up products in his vanity and a pair or two of heels now forgotten somewhere between his sneakers.

As Mark unlocks the door, holding it open as you step into the hallway, a soft laugh escapes from his lips. “We were matching today.”

Glancing back at him over your shoulder, you pause mid-step inside. “What?”

He gestures down at your feet, toeing his own shoes off with a playful look on his face. “Our shoes were matching today.”

Following Mark’s eyes, your confusion immediately shifts to amusement at the sight of your identical Converses, earning a laugh from you. “Are we becoming one of those couples?”

“I mean, we could,” he teases, settling his shoes neatly at the rack before a grin tugs at his lips. “Are we going full outfits next time?”

You snort playfully, taking his hand for balance while slipping out of your own shoes. ”Please, that would be just you copying me, baby.”

Mark nods, sighing to hold back a smile when you coo at his pouty, sulky expression. “Alright, I see how it is.”

As you pull him into the living room, shoes and jackets properly settled, something else catches your attention before you can tease Mark again—on the coffee table, rests a copy of your latest read, the book’s familiar cover unmistakable to your eyes as you reach for it.

Your eyebrows knit together while you flick through the pages for a moment. “I could’ve sworn this book was at my place?” you say, looking up at your boyfriend in doubt. “Did I leave it here?”

A timid smile pulls at his lips, Mark quickly tossing the keys onto the counter alongside the café’s bag before approaching you. “You didn’t leave it here.”

“I don’t get it.” You frown confusedly, blinking at him. “Are you sure I didn’t leave it here? There’s so many of my books around here now—”

He shakes his head, interrupting gently. “I bought this one, actually.”

“You bought it?” you repeat, a little too dazed at the missing dots. “Why? I could’ve given you mine, if you wanted.”

“We were kinda reading at the same time?” Mark starts, chuckling sheepishly at the way your face changes at his explanation. “You were so excited about it the other day, so I thought I could... you know, read it so I can know what you’re talking about.”

You blink, fingers tightening around the book as warmth spreads through your chest. “Mark...” you mutter, voice softer. “Are you serious?”

Rubbing the back of his neck, he shrugs lightly. “It’s no big deal, I just thought it’d be fun to see what’s got you so hooked.”

Caught in between amusement and endearment at his attentiveness, you give Mark a look before fisting his t-shirt, pulling him closer to press a kiss to his lips. With his arms closed around your waist, you resist pulling away for a moment, a sound of protest escaping from your lips once Mark breaks away for a breath.

As he exhales, a flustered chuckle slips through. “Man, you’re definitely killing me one of these days.”

You burst into laughter at his unexpected reaction, escaping from his hold before heading off to the kitchen with a grin at his direction. “I’m hungry now! What are we choosing for dinner?”

Bending the Friday rules over your sudden request, the scent of take-out soon fills the living-room as Mark sets the bags on the coffee table. With the cookies saved for later, both of you settle on the couch, sharing bites of each other’s choices between bits of conversation.

With both of you sharing an unconscious routine, it doesn’t take long until the TV is playing the latest episode of a show you’re currently watching together, Mark indulging your cookies whenever you feed him one in between sips of your lukewarm coffees after dinner.

In the brief pause between the episodes, you suddenly turn around to look at him, almost pouting when pulling back from his arms holding you close. “Why are you so quiet out of a sudden?” 

Seemingly surprised, Mark’s eyes widen for a second before he chuckles awkwardly. “Am I?”

“You’re not even reacting to my little comments,” you start, voice somewhere between confusion and curiosity. “You haven’t laughed at all during the last episode. What’s wrong, baby?”

As he smiles at the nickname, fingers tenderly brushing your cheek, Mark exhales. “I was just thinking... we could talk for a bit?”

The words are all you need to turn off the TV, focusing on him as you sit up. “I’m all ears, Mark Lee.”

He can’t help laughing at the way you say it, reaching for your hand before pressing a kiss to it. “You’re such a dork, sometimes,” Mark teases, shaking his head. “It’s nothing crazy... I think.”

“Well, now I’m curious,” you answer, frowning despite your amusement. “I hope you’re not breaking up with me right now. Are you?”

Though there’s not a single doubt about Mark’s commitment to your relationship in your mind, the quip is mostly to break your boyfriend out of his own mind. Johnny always says he’s come a long way from being an absolute overthinker, but being the naturally sensible, critical person that he is, Mark still hangs onto his thoughts every now and then. 

His face falls for a second at your words, eyes widening in panic. “Fuck no, baby, no way,” he counters, squeezing your hand harder with a pleading look. “I’m not breaking up with you, sorry if I gave you that impression.”

You smile at his puppy eyes, resisting the urge to kiss him by intertwining your fingers instead. “If you’re not planning to break up with me, then...”

“You move in with me,” Mark says, a hint of concern briefly flashing in his eyes over your expression, a mix of shock and something else he doesn’t seem to catch on. “It’s fine if you don’t want to—”

“Mark, I want to,” you interrupt right away, not resisting pressing a quick kiss to his lips over the endearing relief on his face. “Obviously I want to... but are you sure about it?”

“I’m sure, baby.” He nods firmly, huffing a quiet laugh before taking a look around the living room. “It doesn’t need to be my apartment, though. I can bring my stuff down to yours, if you want.”

“We can decide that with a Halli Galli match,” you joke, laughing at his groan before glancing knowingly at him. “How long have you been thinking about this?”

With a chuckle, Mark runs a hand through his hair,  looking a little taken aback. “A few months, give or take,” he answers, a sigh following. “You’ve been leaving some of your stuff around whenever you sleep over and I... didn’t mind it. It actually felt like I was coming home to you even when you weren’t here, you know?”

There’s nothing that can stop you from jumping on him, your lips kissing every inch of his face as Mark laughs, wrapping his arms around you before falling on his back against the couch. Between a few kisses to his mouth and a few more to his face, you might’ve struggled a little bit to pull back from him.

As both of you sit up again, your arms wrap his shoulders in final a hug. “You belong in a love song, Mark.” 

“That’s a yes, right?” Mark suddenly asks, hands immediately cupping your face as soon you pull away from the embrace, his cheeks still flushed from your words. “Are we really doing this?”

The familiarity isn’t lost on you, a smile growing on your face. With your heart still full and completely assured, there’s no hesitation to your answer.

“We’re doing this.”

[daryltwdixon]

If I Could Give You the Moon, I'd Give You the Moon

I'm obsessed with this angst I've created. Part II of Know It's For the Better

Based on Phoebe Bridgers' Moon Song

Daryl stumbles slightly as you guide him along the quiet streets, his arm draped heavily over your shoulders. He’s drunk—more than you’ve ever seen him—and his weight shifts unpredictably as he leans too far to one side, forcing you to readjust.

“Y’don’t gotta hold me like I’m some old man,” he slurs, his words tumbling together in a low drawl. “Still got my legs, ya know.”

“Yeah? Tell that to the pavement you almost kissed back there,” you reply, your tone light but strained as you try to keep him steady.

He barks out a laugh, loud and sudden, then mutters, “Ain’t my fault these damn streets’re crooked.”

“They’re not,” you say, rolling your eyes even though he can’t see it.

He tilts his head toward you, squinting like he’s trying to focus, and grins—a real, lopsided grin that you’re not used to seeing. It’s different from his usual smirks, less guarded, and it makes your chest tighten.

“Y’look real nice tonight,” he says, his voice softer, slower. The words hang between you, catching you off guard, but before you can say anything, he adds, “Too nice t’be draggin’ my sorry ass home.”

"Weren't you the one who offered to walk me home? Now I'm carrying your 'sorry ass'," you tease, your tone light as you try to deflect from the compliment. You’re not sure if he realizes what he just said—the slip, the way he noticed how you looked.

Or at least, the first time he's ever said anything about it.

The thought makes your heart launch into your throat.

You’ve seen Daryl in all kinds of states—angry, wounded, stone-cold sober—but this version of him, loose and unguarded, is something else entirely. His walls are gone, every word spilling out without hesitation, and you can’t help but let yourself take it in, selfishly cataloging every soft laugh, every crooked grin.

When you reach your porch, he steps back, swaying a little as his arm falls from your shoulders. His hands fumble at his sides, like he’s not sure what to do with them. Then his eyes land on yours, and for a moment, the playful grin fades.

“Don't gotta always take care’a me,” he murmurs, his voice so low you almost miss it.

You shake your head, offering a small smile you don’t really feel. “You already do the same for me."

He doesn’t argue, doesn’t speak. Just stares at you like you’ve said something he doesn’t know how to answer.

And then he steps closer.

His hands, rough and callused, come up to your face, cradling you with a fragile kind of care, like he’s holding water in his palms. Like he’s afraid that if he grips too tightly, you’ll slip through his fingers, yet if he lets go, he’ll lose you entirely. Every touch feels suspended, precarious, as if the moment itself might shatter if he doesn’t get it exactly right.

“You’re good,” he says suddenly, like it’s something he’s been holding onto for too long, his thumb brushing your cheekbone, “Too good.”

There's no doubt he can feel your heart thumping against your neck, the pounding having to be pushing up against his fingers where they brush the soft skin under your jaw.

"Know I shouldn't--know it's for the better that I stay far away from ya," he whispers, like he's talking more to himself as his eyes continue to search your face, "But I can't stop thinkin' of...thinkin' what it would be like..."

“Daryl—”

Then, his lips are on yours in an instant—desperate, reverent in the way they push against yours.

For a second, you’re frozen, your mind spinning too fast to make your body respond. You want to—God, you want to—but the shock keeps you locked in place. His lips are hot and firm against yours, moving with a kind of unpracticed urgency that steals your breath.

The kiss is so Daryl, everything you expected and somehow more. Clumsy, a little haphazard, but so earnest, so real, so alive. You’d never believed the romance novels you’d devoured about kisses that made sparks fly, but this… this proved them right all along. Electricity seemed to crackle between you, only for you to realize it was you humming, the vibrations of your approval thrumming softly through your joined mouths.

When his lips parted and his tongue tentatively brushed against yours, your body finally remembered how to move. Your hands slid up, grasping the solid muscle of his arms, and his whole frame shuddered under your touch.

And then he froze.

His breath hitched, his body stiffening as if something had just yanked him back to sobering reality. In an instant, he pulled away, his hands falling to his sides like they didn’t know what to do anymore.

His breath, warm and uneven, carried the faint scent of whiskey, brushing against your flushed face as his eyes met yours. Wide and uncertain, they searched your expression like he was trying to figure out what he’d just done.

“Shit,” he muttered, his voice rough and low. He cleared his throat, stepping back quickly, the distance between you feeling sharper than it should. “Night.”

And just like that, he was gone, leaving you standing there, lips tingling, your heart racing, and no words to fill the space he’d left behind.

The next day, you find him on the porch, sitting on the edge with his crossbow resting against his knee. He’s fidgeting with a bolt, turning it over in his hands like it’s the most interesting thing in the world.

When he hears your footsteps, he glances up briefly, his expression unreadable, before quickly looking back down. “Mornin’,” he mutters, his voice low.

“Morning,” you reply, stepping closer. You hesitate before sitting beside him, keeping some space between you.

The silence between you stretches for a moment, the sounds of birds in the distance filling the quiet. You try to think of what to say, but everything feels too uncertain. Like you're not sure if you should just say it outright or wait for him.

You should ask him.

The words hover in your throat, right there, but they refuse to come out. Did he remember the kiss? Did he remember the way his lips pressed against yours, clumsy but so full of something it made your chest ache? Did he remember what he whispered, his voice rough but so sure of his feelings when he confessed his unrelenting thoughts of you?

The memory burns in your chest, every word, every touch of his fingers and taste of his lips is seared into your mind. You need to know if it meant something—or if it was just the whiskey.

He breaks the silence first, letting out a short, almost nervous laugh. “Man, I was… somethin’ else last night, huh?”

“Do you remember much of it?” you ask softly, your heart picking up its pace.

You stare at him, searching his face for something—anything—that might tell you he’s lying. That he does remember. That those words weren’t just a drunken slip. But his expression is unreadable, his focus locked on the crossbow like it’s the only thing in the world.

Your throat feels tight, your hands curling into fists in your lap. “Daryl…” You pause, the words catching before they can escape. You want to ask him about the kiss, about what he said. But the fear of what he might say—or worse, what he won’t—roots you in place.

“If I, uh…” he starts, his voice softer now, “if I said or did somethin’ dumb… didn’t mean nothin’ by it.”

Your breath catches, and you nod quickly, forcing a brittle smile. “Right, course."

And just like that, the warmth of the sun from the morning sky feels as cold as ice, seeping into your skin and draining the last bit of life from you.

You stand abruptly, brushing your palms against your thighs to give your hands something to do. “I should get going,” you say, keeping your tone light even though your heart is still pounding.

Daryl finally looks up at you, his eyes catching yours for a brief, fleeting moment. There’s something there—uncertainty, regret, maybe even a flicker of longing—but it’s gone too quickly to be sure.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice low and rough. “See ya.”

You hesitate, your feet rooted to the porch even as your body screams at you to leave. The words are still there, trembling on the edge of your tongue—Did you mean it?—but you swallow them down, just like you always do.

Turning away, you step inside, letting the screen door close softly behind you. As soon as you’re out of sight, you press your back against the wall, closing your eyes as the memory of last night washes over you again.

His words replay in your mind, over and over, as if they’re branded into you. You clutch the hem of your shirt, willing yourself not to cry, even as the ache in your chest spreads like wildfire.

Because as much as you want to believe he meant it, his silence today feels like an answer.

And yet, you know you’d still give him anything—everything. If he asked, if he even hinted that he wanted it, you’d tear down the moon and hand it to him without a second thought.

But he doesn’t ask. And so you don’t offer.

[ddongtsan]

Irresistibly Yours - Kim Woonhak

Woonhak x fem. reader

Note: God, he was so handsome and amazing in this last show!!! I'm super proud of him ❤️.

Warning: Friends to Lovers, drabble, fluff.

The loud music vibrated through the walls of the rooftop, illuminated by the lights of Seoul.

Woonagi stood leaning against the railing, holding a cup of soda — the boldest drink he'd allow himself at parties. He didn’t need alcohol to be the center of attention; his magnetic presence was more than enough.

And you knew it.

You were on the other side of the terrace, trying to ignore the way he kept looking at you — like you were the only thing worth noticing in the crowd.

Every time your eyes met, your heart raced, but you quickly looked away, pretending to focus on anything, everything, just to avoid giving in.

But Kim Woonhak wasn’t the type to give up easily.

He crossed the space between you two like the rest of the world didn’t exist, stopping just inches from you.

“Are you avoiding me?” Asked, tilting his head with that crooked smile that nearly made your knees buckle.

“I’m not avoiding anyone” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. But the lightness in his tone made it hard to hold onto your composure.

“Doesn’t look that way.” He stepped closer, and now you could smell his subtle cologne, feel the intoxicating heat of his proximity. “Look at me.”

You slowly raised your eyes, meeting his. There was a playful glint in them, mixed with something deeper, more intense.

“You like what you see, don’t you?” He asked, his voice low, almost a whisper.

You took a deep breath, looking away again. Woon chuckled.

“Always so difficult”, Woon murmured. “But I like that.”

“And you’re always so confident.”

“Because I know what I’m talking about.” He stepped even closer, his fingers brushing lightly against your arm.

Your heart was pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it.

Kim lifted a hand to tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, his eyes never leaving yours.

“I want to kiss you right now.” He said, direct and unfiltered, leaving you breathless.

“What?”

“You heard me.” He tilted his head, his lips so close to yours they were almost touching. “I’m not going to be a coward. I want you, and I’ll prove it.”

Any protest you had died before it could form. Woonhak had this way of disarming you completely, leaving you vulnerable and lost in him.

When his lips finally met yours, the world seemed to stop. There was no more party, no music, no crowd — just the two of you.

The kiss was urgent and soft all at once, filled with everything he couldn’t put into words.

His hands cupped your face gently, as if you were something too precious to handle with anything less than total care.

When you finally pulled apart, Woonagi grinned, satisfied.

“See?” he teased, his voice husky. “I told you you’d like it.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips was impossible to hide.

“You’re impossible.”

“And you’re irresistible.” He laced his fingers through yours, pulling you away from the party. “Let’s get out of here. I want to show you Seoul like you’ve never seen it before.”

And that night, with the city lights as your witness, you knew there was no escaping the charming chaos that was Woonhak.

Not that you wanted to.

[heart4caitlin]

kk arnold fic based off of sailor song

SAILOR SONG / kk arnold

warnings : religious trauma , angst , self doubt , mainly reader focused

pair : kk arnold x fem!reader

wc : 1659

You had grown up in a house where God was the answer for everything. You were hurting? Pray harder. Doubt? Have more faith. You’d learn to obey the word of God, learnt to not go against your parents. You kept everything suppressed, suffocating yourself in so much guilt. You’d never looked at boys a certain way during school, never thought about them.

Until you went to college. But it wasn’t a boy. It was KK Arnold.

KK was extremely vibrant, lighting up every room she walked into with such a contagious laugh and smile. Who wouldn’t fall for her?

The first time the two of you had kissed was on a pier. KK had begged for you to sneak out around midnight to go see her. You remembered how she looked under the moonlight, her skin glowing as she smiled at you.

“Come on.. What’s the worst that could happen?” KK had teased as she leaned against the railing, her hand caressing your cheek.

"I could burn in hell..?" You laugh nervously as you play with the cross sitting around your neck.

KK scoffed, her hand coming up to pull yours down as she leans in closer. "You deserve to be happy.. Even if it's with me." She whispers before pushing her lips against yours, both of your eyes fluttering closed.

You had messed up, of course you did. You hadn't meant to. It had just started with your mom glancing at your phone and seeing your lock screen, a photo of KK smiling on the pier.

"Who is that, Y/n?" your mother had asked eventually, her tone a bit suspicious.

You froze as you stared up at your mom. "A friend."

"You've been spending a lot of time with this friend." Your mother pointed out, her head tilted to the side as she turned back to the counter, going back to cutting vegetables for supper.

"She's just important to me is all," You forced out with a smile, sliding your phone into your pocket.

"You sound like you're in love with her. Which is wrong, you can't love a girl like that." She had spat out, not even turning around to look at you as she rambled on about how wrong it was.

You were silent for a minute before speaking up. "What if I was though?" Your voice barely above a whisper as your mom froze, turning around to stare at you with disbelief written on her face.

"It's not a sin, it's just love." Your voice was trembling as you sat down in one of the chairs, looking down as you played with your cross again, a habit that you picked up.

"It is a sin. You're just confused about all of this. You're only 19 after all, you'll find the perfect man soon enough. I raised you better than this."

"I-I'm not confused though, mama! This is who I am, I-I really do love KK." You snapped, your frustration finally boiling over.

"Do not bring her name into this house ever again." Your father had finally made his entrance, his voice thundering throughout the house, his hand slamming down onto the table making you jump and look over at him.

"We will fix this. Us and the church will pray for you. God will show you the right path." Your mom had joined back in, wiping her hands off on a towel as she steps closer to the table with your dad.

"You don't love her." Your father spat out coldly. "You love your family and God. You will repent for this, Y/n."

You had sat stiffly in the pastor's office, the walls were lined with Bibles, different texts, framed photos of baptisms and weddings. Your mother was sitting next to you holding a tissue for herself, dabbing at her eyes every few minutes. Your father was on the other side of you, his jaw tight and his hands were clasped together.

"Y/n.. Your parents told me you have been struggling recently. I wanted to let you know that God wants you to come back to him." Your pastor had leaned forward on his desk, his hands clasped together in front of him as well.

Your stomach churned, he made it sound like KK were a sin, something bad in her life. You looked down for a split second, your fingernails pressing into your palms before you stared right at him. "I never left him."

The pastor let out a sigh, taking his glasses off and setting them on the table. "I know this may be confusing for you, Y/n... The world is a difficult place, but you know what he says. God's word is the ultimate truth and we are to follow it."

Your mother reached a hand out to your knee as you looked back down again. "We love you, we really do, sweetheart. Don't let this... confusion ruin the beautiful life God has planned for you."

Your pastor cleared his throat, making the three of you look over to him. "In Corinthians, Paul tells us, 'Do you not know that the unrighteous will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived.'" He looked up back at you again. "I don't want that for you. None of us do."

That night you sat alone on your bedroom floor, staring at the cross above your bed, something you've had for years, it being a gift from your parents. It used to comfort you through sad times, now it's presence is suffocating. A constant reminder of what had happened earlier.

You pulled your knees to your chest as sobs fell from you. The constant reminder that they were right, you were just sick, you just needed God to save you again. Tears were covering your cheeks and eventually falling down onto KK's jacket, making even more sobs fall from you.

The next morning was quiet when you awoke. The rays of sunshine filling your room make you wince when you open your eyes. It took you a few minutes to get out of bed and to change into something, deciding on just a pair of jeans and a simple light blue floral shirt. Your heart ached when you reached for your bedroom door, taking a deep breath before opening it and walking out, making your way to the kitchen.

Both of your parents were in the kitchen, their talking stopping once they saw you. Your mother was at the counter holding a mug in her hand while your father was at the table, his bible open with notes next to it.

You nodded towards them before walking over and grabbing a glass and pulling out a tea bag, your back facing them.

"We still need to speak, Y/n." Your father said, making you freeze for a few seconds.

"I don't think there's anything else left to say." You refused to turn around just yet.

"There's a lot left to say. We will not sit here and watch you throw your life away just for some.. some girl."

"God has a life planned out for you, sweetheart. You're shutting him out, don't do this. Don't throw your life away."

Your silence only seemed to spur your father on even more. "Do you think this is easy for us?" he demanded. "Do you think we want to be sitting here having this conversation with you? We care about you, that is why we're here doing this. We are trying to save you, Y/n. You can come from this, it is not too late for that." Your fathers voice softened just a bit.

You stared at them in silence, your eyes filling with tears. You wanted to believe them. So bad. But you also wanted to love. You swallowed hard, forcing your words back down as you turned away from them and heading to the door.

"Y/n... Don't walk away from us." Your mother had pleaded, her voice cracking as she looked towards you. You paused for a moment, considering if it was worth it. "I'm sorry.." You whispered before walking out, your mom crying in the background as your father comforts her.

The walk to KK's apartment felt incredibly long, it only being around ten minutes though. You hesitated for a second when going to knock, debating if you should go back so KK didn't have to see you in such a mess.

You knocked softly twice before the door had opened, KK stood there with her hair pulled back with her uconn sweatshirt and shorts, her face lighting up when she saw you—before falling into concern.

"Y/n? What happened? Are you okay?" KK stepped forward, her hand reaching out towards you and helping you in the house, locking the door behind you.

You went to open your mouth to speak but no words came out, your throat felt tight as tears welled in your eyes again. “I… I can’t do it anymore, KK.. They all hate me.. m-my parents, the pastor. They think I’m broken and need help.”

KK’s face crumbled, a frown taking place on her as she grabbed your hands. She pulls you to the couch and sits down, pulling you so close next to her. “Baby.. You’re not broken, you’ve never been broke. Don’t listen to them at all. They don’t truly know you like I do. You’re amazing. Don’t let them do this to you, my love.”

Your lip quivered as you sniffled. “I’m so tired, KK.. I’m so tired of fighting for myself.”

KK nodded at you, pulling you closer to her chest as she pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I know baby.. I know.. But I’m here every step of the way, screw them, okay? Move in with me or something. I love you so much.”

KK held you for what felt like hours, her sweatshirt covered in tears but she didn’t mind. You were here in her arms.

a/n : this is very ummm self indulgent kinda?? i did grow up in a religious family but not quite like this!! this is the longest fic i’ve posted on here too YAY

taglist : @mrsarnold @guiltyascaitlin @sweetluna20