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mermaidgirl30 · 7 months ago

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✨Saddle Me Up, Cowboy Part 1: Spin Me Around the Dance Floor✨

Cowboy! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: Thank you to @alltheirdamn for encouraging me to write this! Beth Dutton and Rip Wheeler from Yellowstone heavily inspired this short little series. I hope you enjoy 🩷 I just saw @auteurdelabre Trope Off challenge, so I’m tagging this as a meet cute for that!

Chapter Summary: You were only trying to enjoy your drink and watch the different couples spin around the dance floor at your favorite country club, but all that changed when you set your eyes on a certain handsome brown-eyed cowboy.

Rating: 18+ only

Word Count: 4.6k

Tags: Lots of fluff, flirting, pining, two stepping, meet cute at a country western bar, no use y/n, no outbreak au, switching POVs, soft! Joel, summer love, reader has hair

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The neon lights flash across the busy dance floor as bodies sway back and forth to the slow country tune. Smoke permeates through the air as couples hold each other close and the men spin their lovers around the wooden floor. You love two stepping, love the rustic feel of the bar, love the feel of your jean shorts and fitted cowboy boots. You just love being here on a Friday night in your favorite country bar called Cowboys.

You stir the straw slowly around in your mixed drink, your elbow leaning against the side of the dance floor, toes tapping on the bottom of the barstool. And as you watch the happy couples spin across the floor, you can’t help but wish that was you out there.

When was the last time you came here with a date? Maybe two years.

Sure, you’ve been asked to dance. Took a twirl around the room twice with some nice blonde guy that talked about his job and dogs. But it was just friendly and casual. Just a way to spin around the dance floor a couple of times. It wasn’t a perfect match with your cowboy lover. That’s someone you haven’t met yet.

Tonight, maybe you’d find someone. The one. A girl can dream, and that’s exactly what you do. Dream.

Another two songs fly by as you sip your fruity drink, watching couples come and go on and off the dance floor. A slow Morgan Wallen song floats through the packed room, your eyes roam around the bar, falling on the far right corner. Just when a couple spins out of the way, it clears your view to the opposite side of the dance floor. And oh my God, your heart drops out of your chest.

You nearly choke on the fruity liquid, your jaw dropping straight to the floor. There, right across the room, stands the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

He’s tall, well over six foot. His green button-up flannel clings to strong biceps, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing thick veins that spider down into massive hands. His hair is dark and sandy, silver threaded through his tousled curls and burrowing into the thick beard against his sculpted jawline. He’s tan, dark from working out in the sun, you think. And his eyes look like the color of chocolate almonds from what you can tell under the dim lights. And his smile. Jesus, it could light up an entire room.

Soft. He looks so soft the way he holds the flute of his beer bottle, the way his eyes light up every time he laughs with his friends. And God, you’d kill to see him smile at you like that.

You keep your gaze on him, staring like a child in a candy store, eyeing the last Hershey’s bar on the shelf. And it’s like your first school crush all over. You need to get a hold of yourself, but you just can’t. He’s too tempting, too smoldering, too perfect.

And in the next moment, his eyes are on you.

—

Sweat beads Joel’s forehead as he takes another swig of his beer, a chuckle leaving his lips as Tommy teases Maria and pulls her to his chest. She just laughs and kisses him on the cheek as he wraps her in his leather jacket. Joel wishes he had someone like that. Someone to love as much as Tommy loves her. Maybe someday he would.

“You gonna ask anyone to dance?” Tommy asks, his brown eyes trained on Joel.

“Eventually,” Joel mutters, sighing as he takes another generous sip of the strong alcohol.

“Better before the end of the night,” Tommy laughs, pulling Maria by the hand to the dance floor. Before Tommy turns away, he gives a brotherly shove to Joel’s shoulder and winks. “Pretty girl at twelve o’clock, straight across the room. Go get her, Joel.”

Just as Tommy leaves him with a confused expression, he looks up and freezes the minute he spots you. He gulps and sets his beer on the table, his fingers curling into the wooden tabletop, eyes wide when your eyes meet his.

Big, glittering, beautiful eyes swallow him whole, the swirling lights making them glow even brighter. He catches his breath and has it knocked right back out of his chest again as a shy smile curls against your glossy red lips. He thinks he just fell in love.

Your pretty hair falls in long waves down your shoulders; your low-cut tank top sticking to your sun kissed skin shining under the bright spotlight. It’s like an angel sits before him, and he’s mesmerized. Your tight denim shorts hug your curves, and your tan boots with embroidered butterflies scuff against the barstool. Your pretty eyes flick down to your drink and back up to him repeatedly, sweetly beckoning to him to come ask you to dance.

Shy, sweet, adorable, beautiful. He picks all this out just by looking at your pretty face. And you’re just his type of girl; he already knows it. He thinks you were made just for him to find tonight.

It goes on like clockwork for the next few songs. Shy smiles, locked eyes, hesitation permeating through the thick, smoky air. But he won’t hesitate for long. No. He wants to know you, to dance with you, to take you out, maybe show you his ranch.

He just has to have you. And he will. You’ll be his by the end of the night.

After an encouraging slap on the back from Tommy, he takes one more glance your way and hands his tan cowboy hat to Tommy. Right now he only has one task at hand, and that is to ask the pretty girl to dance. So, he swallows all his nerves and walks across the room, right through the sea of endless bodies.

Right to you.

—

Your cheeks burn hot as you lock eyes again; a flirtatious game you’ve been playing for the past two songs. You practically feel on fire with the way your body reacts every time he looks at you.

Maybe he’ll ask you to dance. You hope he does because you have a feeling being in those big, strong arms would be like jumping into a freshly made bed after a long day at work. Warm and cozy and made just for you.

You bite your bottom lip and laugh as your head drops to the scuffed-up wood, a loose curl falling over your shoulder. How can you already like someone this much when you don’t even know them? Sounds pretty silly, but it gives you tingles in your feet just the same.

This is a good sign.

When you look back up, your heart drops to the floor when you don’t see the handsome man standing across the room anymore. You slide further down in your chair and sigh, letting all the hope fizzle out of your tired body.

He left. You just wanted one dance. That’s all you wanted. One fucking dance.

You sigh quietly and look back out at the spinning bodies on the dance floor, shaking off the growing tears in your eyes. Just when you think one might drop, your body freezes when you hear a husky, deep voice being cleared next to you. When you turn to look at who just interrupted your sulking session, you nearly fall off the barstool.

It’s him. The man with the pretty brown eyes.

“Hi.” His deep voice floats through your ears like a dream, and the music seems to disappear altogether.

“Uhh—hi,” you stammer out, your mouth agape as you watch a small smile curl against his inviting lips.

“‘M sorry if this comes off as rude. But what’s a girl like you doin’ sittin’ on the sidelines, darlin’?” His thick Southern accent drawls out, and your eyes immediately widen when you hear how deep and staccato it sounds. You think you could listen to it all night long.

Darlin’. He called you darlin’.

Your words fail you, so you just brush off his apology and smile. “Can’t a girl enjoy a drink?”

He chuckles and shakes his head, a tousled curl falling into his forehead. You want to brush it back for him. That soft looking sandy hair. “Well, sure ya can. Didn’t answer why you’re sittin’ over here by yourself, though.”

“My friends are dancing,” you shrug, spinning your straw nervously in your drink, letting the liquid slosh around the sides.

“Now how come a pretty thing like you ain’t out there with ‘em? Hmm?” His thick eyebrows raise in question, and another dreamy smile meets his face.

God, he’s so handsome.

“Oh, I dunno. Was just watching,” you answer nonchalantly, not pointing out the fact that they’re all taken and you’re not.

He hums to himself, his eyes flicking to the dance floor and back to you after a few seconds. “You wanna dance?” he asks softly, his chocolate eyes sparkling in the hope that you’ll say yes.

“Huh?” you say off guard, your eyes wide at the question.

He just asked you to dance.

“Do you wanna dance with me?” he asks again, nudging the side of your boot with his own worn leather boot.

“You’re asking me to dance?” you question.

“Ain’t that what I asked?” he chuckles, causing your stomach to somersault with the way his infectious laugh is making you feel. All warm and tingly.

“Oh. I umm—okay,” you smile shyly, looking up through your long eyelashes at him.

“Is that a yes, darlin’?” he asks with a big smile.

“Yes, I’d love to,” you confirm with a nod.

“Well, c’mon then.” He holds out his open palm, and you don’t hesitate to take it.

Warm. He’s so warm. Rough, calloused hands that hold yours perfectly. A match made in heaven.

He leads you to the middle of the dance floor, careful not to get in the way of any other couples. And then he slowly slips a hand around your waist, the other securely latched to your hand, his fingers laced through yours. And when he starts to lead the dance, you follow right after him.

The bright lights land over him, putting his beautiful eyes right on display for you. Your breath catches when you see how soft his eyes are. Dark brown like the color of honey and onyx flecks swirling in his irises that hypnotize you to him. He’s absolutely beautiful. You’ve never seen eyes as pretty as his; ones that draw you right in. And the way he’s looking at you, all soft and like he’s looking at the most beautiful girl in the world makes your knees a little wobbly.

The neon signs on the walls glow in the distance, the melodic tune of a Scotty McCreery song floats in the background while couples dance around you. Joel leads you around the dance floor, holding you tight and never once stepping on your feet.

You scuff your boot over his toes out of nervousness, but he doesn’t say anything about it. He just chuckles and pulls you closer to where you can feel his steady heartbeat against your chest, his brown eyes staring into yours like he’s enamored by you. But he’s got your full attention, and you’re so into him already.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” he asks, his Southern drawl completely melting you at the sweet sound. You tell him yours and when your name slips off his tongue, you nearly fall to your knees in awe.

“And yours? What’s yours, Cowboy?” you ask over the loud couple that whips around you.

“Cowboy, huh? Already got a nickname for me, sweetheart?” he chuckles, eyes lighting up at the nickname like he wants you to say it again. And maybe you will.

“Maybe so,” you giggle, relaxing into the dance as he spins you around in circles, the lights following your movements.

“The name’s Joel. Joel Miller.” He tips his head and gives you a big smile. You can’t help but giggle every time he smiles at you. It’s like you’re in first grade all over, and Joel’s the new, cute boy that’s caught your attention in class.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Joel.”

“Pleasure’s all mine, sweetheart,” he smiles, keeping you close to his warm body. You let out another nervous giggle, and it just makes him smile wider like he’s addicted to your laugh.

“I like your laugh, darlin’. Could listen to it all night,” he sighs dreamily, chocolate eyes melting as he looks intensely at you, honing in on just you while the rest of the room disappears. Your breath hitches for just a second, and then you melt right back into him.

“Well, I like your brown eyes,” you lull, your eyes locked on his pretty pools of honey. You giggle when he blushes, and then a dimple indents into his left cheek when he smiles. And God, you think you just fell in love.

“And your smile. I love your pretty smile. It lights up a room, darlin’. And you lit up the whole damn bar tonight,” he drawls, his warm breath fanning over your open mouth, gawking at this handsome gentleman.

He’s fucking perfect.

He lifts his arm and spins you around in a complete circle, his large hand finding your hip again and pulling you back into his broad chest. And there you are, completely breathless again.

“So, Cowboy. What made you want to come ask me to dance?” you ask, curiosity circling in your wide eyes.

“Saw you from across the room, and I couldn’t keep my eyes off you,” he answers honestly with the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“Me?” you ask, taken aback.

“Yes, you,” he chuckles as he guides you across the polished dance floor.

“There’s a hundred other girls in here who’ve had their eyes on you all night,” you scoff in a playful way.

“Oh? Is that so?” An eyebrow lifts in piqued interest, but his eyes still don’t leave yours. They stay glued to you.

“Mhm,” you hum in confirmation.

“That means you’ve been watchin’ me too, ain’t that right?” he smirks devilishly, his brown eyes darkening just slightly.

“No I—no. That’s not…” you stutter, at a loss for words. You were watching him. Ever since you saw him across the room; that damn smile that has your head spinning.

“S’alright, sweetheart. Wasn’t tryin’ to get you all flustered now,” he chuckles, obviously trying to get you flustered. He doesn’t have to try hard because you’re already overly flustered.

“I’m not flustered,” you scoff, your cheeks burning hotter with every second his chocolate eyes are on you.

“No? Well, you’re pretty cute when you’re blushin’, darlin’. Maybe I want you flustered,” he grins, a beautiful smile curling against his plush lips.

“Careful, Cowboy. You might be the one blushing next,” you tease, narrowing your eyes playfully in response.

“I’d like to see you try, sweetheart,” he challenges, his eyes growing into a soft syrupy color you want to drown in.

“Maybe I will, brown eyes,” you say with the flash of a smile.

“Brown eyes, huh? Kinda like the sound of that.” His pretty eyes are genuine when he says it, like it’s the best thing you’ve said this whole dance. And the pink that marinates around his dark scruff tells you enough. He does like it.

You smirk in knowing and wink playfully his way, creating a deeper blush on his tanned skin. It makes your heart skip a beat. “Good, now you’re the one blushing.”

He shakes his tousled curls and sighs, his eyes alight with an enamored glow. “Christ, you’re adorable.”

“If you say so, Cowboy,” you say, letting him continue the dance even though there’s a new song booming from the overhead speakers.

He wraps his large hand tighter against your waist, and you let his other gently glide up and down the back of your hand. A caress that’s laced with care.

“I do say so, sweetheart,” he chuckles warmly. “But you wanna know the real reason why I asked you to dance?”

You keep your eyes trained on the glow of his and squint carefully. “Tell me.”

He takes a deep breath and smiles shyly. “The reason I asked you is ‘cause I thought you were the prettiest girl in the room.”

Your mouth gawks open in shock. He thinks you’re the prettiest girl in the room? Wow. “Me? Are you sure you picked the right girl?”

“Yes, you,” he nods, his thumb stroking against your soft skin. An affirmation of what? Care, admiration, love?

“You think I’m… pretty?” you ask hesitantly, your voice quiet and meek. He can’t think you’re the prettiest girl. There’s no way.

“Mhm. Gorgeous. And your eyes. Absolutely beautiful, sweetheart. They make the lights in here look dim with how bright yours shine.”

You stare in amazement at him, eyes as wide as an owl’s gawking at the man with pretty brown eyes who swept you off your feet. You’re falling into places you’ve never been, and you’re quite scared of how many feelings are bubbling up inside you already. But at this moment, you don’t care. All you can do is stare at him affectionately as he spins you around the room.

He’s perfect.

“So, what does a pretty girl like you do for work, sweetheart?” he asks, molton brown eyes glazing into yours, making you audibly gasp how pretty they are.

“I’m a vet assistant.”

“Vet assistant, huh? You ever work on cattle, by chance?” His wide brown eyes are full of hope, and a smile tugs at his lips.

“Unfortunately no. Just dogs and cats mostly. Why? You got some cattle, Cowboy?” Your eyebrow arches, and a mischievous smirk curls over your mouth.

He chuckles and nods his head. “As a matter of fact, I do. I own a ranch,” he says proudly, standing a little taller, making your face hurt from smiling so damn much at him.

“So you are a Cowboy. I knew it,” you giggle. “What kind of animals do you have?”

“Tons,” he says, the neon lights glowing over his tousled curls. “Horses, cows, bulls, chickens, sheep, dogs, and the list goes on.”

“My, my. You got your hands full. Don’t you, Cowboy?” you blush, fluttering your eyelashes flirtatiously up at him. You like him even more now.

“Reckon I do,” he chuckles, his thumb tracing light circles against the back of your hand, eliciting goosebumps down your arms.

“Too full to handle one more thing?” you question, giving him your best puppy dog eyes that you can manage.

He shakes his head and smiles warmly. “If that one thing is you then ‘course not. Got all the room for you, darlin’.”

Your eyes soften into liquid and your head is spinning as you stare at this beautiful man. You’re already falling head over heels, and you think he is too.

“You ever ride a horse before?” he asks, tilting his head like he’s assessing you.

You shake your head in response. “I mean, when I was little I rode on a pony. But a horse? No. Can’t say that I have.”

“You wanna learn? Got a stallion back at home that has your name on the saddle.” His smile is breathtaking, just like his honey-colored eyes. Your heart gallops in your chest like hooves pounding on the ground. He wants to teach you how to ride?

“You really plan on teaching me?” Your eyebrows pinch together, hesitation stuck on your tongue.

He nods, a fleeting smile meeting his beautiful eyes. “Consider it our first date, darlin’. Gonna turn you into a little cowgirl.”

“Oh, a cowgirl, huh? Is that what I’m going to be?” you giggle flirtatiously, and he picks right back up on it as he winks at you.

“S’right. My cowgirl.”

My cowgirl.

Your heart gets stuck in your throat, words lodged deep inside. So you do what you can do. Smile and trace your fingertips across his broad shoulder, letting the soft flannel graze against your smooth skin.

As the song slows to a halt, you find the opportunity to wrap both of your arms tightly around his neck, nuzzling your face into the soft fabric of his flannel. His arms circle your hips, and one hand gently runs up and down your lower back, sending electricity zapping through your nerve endings.

You smell him now. His woodsy cologne, the hint of sweet beer on the tip of his tongue, faint scents of smoke on his collar, the scent of leather in the air. He smells like your favorite scent all mixed together, combined into the perfect formula to get you drunk off him. And you’d gladly get drunk off him.

“Lady May” by Tyler Childers plays through the speakers; the slow song sending the mood of the bar into a romantic, all consuming type of way. Love’s permeating through the air, and you can feel it everywhere. It tingles in your toes, brushes like a breeze through your hair, spirals down the back of your spine, floods your heart with warmth you’ve never felt before, makes your eyes sparkle like starlight through the bright lights, landing right in the palm of Joel.

Put your toes down in the water. And a smile across your face. And tell me that you love me. Lovely Lady May.

He pulls you closer, where your chin is tucked against the crook of his neck, his woodsy cologne making you feel a bit dizzy.

Now I ain’t the sharpest chisel that your hands have ever held. But, darling, I could love you well.

Lovely lady May.

His lips brush over the crown of your head, his fingertips lighting your nerve endings on complete fire, sparks igniting in his caramel eyes. The way he’s looking at you makes you think he’s already in love with you. And maybe you’ve already fallen in love with him, too.

As the music slows, he dips you low, not daring to let your back touch the scuffed-up wood. When he pulls you back up, he brings you flush to his broad chest, and his scent is everywhere.

His brown eyes sparkle like glitter, shooting stars that only you can make a wish on in the clear night sky. And his smile. My God, you’ve never seen anything as beautiful as him before.

He gently brushes a loose curl behind your ear, lingering his calloused fingertips down your jawline, ending right under your chin where he stills. The room melts away, the noisy crowd disappearing as the song completely takes a hold of you.

But I’m baptized in your name. Lovely Lady May.

His thumb slowly traces your bottom lip, leaving invisible marks that’ll stick like permanent ink, branding you as his own. The way he’s staring at you all soft and deeply makes you melt into him even more.

One more trace, one more shy smile, and he’s asking. “Darlin’?”

“Yes?” you ask breathlessly.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his Southern drawl sounding lovestruck and angelic. “And thank you for allowin’ me to dance with the prettiest girl in the room. But there’s jus’ one more thing I’d like to do.” His mouth drops a little lower, and your breath hitches.

“And what’s that?” you ask, lilting at his soft smile.

“I’d really like to kiss you…” he breathes, his deep timbre shaky as his brown eyes melt into you.

You lean up on your tiptoes, blowing your breath over his open lips. “Then kiss me, Cowboy…” you whisper out.

He cups your face the next second and leans in, crashing his lips down on yours without any hesitation. And he draws you in like a moth to a flame.

His lips are soft like velvet, and he tastes like your new favorite flavor. Blue moon, sweet and savory with a hint of smoke and mint marinating on his tongue.

And then your lips become his as you fall like rain into his kiss.

Mint. Blue Moon. Smoke. Velvet. Cedar Wood. Leather.

He’s all you know now.

You stay like that for minutes, connected like webs to each other in the middle of the dance floor as couples swirl in a colorful blur around you. When the two of you finally disconnect from each other’s lips, a big smile curls against his mouth and his pretty brown eyes look like they’re laced with love the longer he looks at you.

He brushes his thumb against your lower lip and leans in close, his lips tracing the shell of your ear. “You taste like mine, darlin’.”

And that’s when you fall head over heels for the Cowboy that snatched your heart and made you his own.

He pulls you in for another dance, and you let him lead you through another song which turns into another and another and another. You lose count. All you know is that you’d dance all night with him if you could.

After over an hour of twirling around the dance floor with him, he buys you a drink and leads you over to two barstools. You end up with your legs sprawled over his lap, his fingertips tracing lines over your thighs, his lips brushing over your cheek while he places his cowboy hat on top of your head, claiming you as his own.

You end up meeting Joel’s brother, Tommy, and his wife, Maria. And you spend all night laughing and flirting with Joel while you bond over music and shared interests. Turns out you have a lot in common.

It’s the way his smile stops your heart and his brown eyes that send your head spinning. It’s the way he calls you his girl and the way he can’t keep his hands off you for even a second. You’ve never been this wrapped up in a guy before, but you’ve never met a handsome gentleman like Joel. A cowboy that won your heart over the second he looked at you.

He ends the night by driving you home, walking you up to your door, pulling you against his broad chest as his thumb traces lightly against your skin affectionately. You don’t want to say goodnight.

“So, pretty girl. How ’bout I pick you up at 4:00 o’clock tomorrow? Can give you your first ridin’ lesson, maybe watch the sunset from the back of my truck. Can tell you how beautiful you look under the stars,” he drawls, his brown eyes sparkling under the moonlight.

He has you reeled in, pulling you in like he just lassoed his way into your heart.

“Quite the romantic type. Aren’t you, Cowboy?” you blush, lacing your fingers through his tousled curls.

“That I am,” he chuckles, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pulls you tighter against him. “So, what do ya say, Cowgirl? You gonna let me take you on that date?”

“Pick me up at 4:00, and I’m all yours.”

“All mine?” he smiles, his warm breath fanning over your lips.

“All yours,” you confirm.

He pulls you in for a slow, romantic kiss, letting it linger as the stars twinkle above your porch. You’re never going to get tired of his kisses, his soft Southern drawl, his big brown eyes. You’re only going to grow more in love with him every day. And you’ll let it grow like a wildfire that consumes you whole.

This was only the beginning. The beginning of a perfect summer love that would never fade away.

Tags for those that were interested: @mountainsandmayhem @alltheirdamn @lotusbxtch @almostfoxglove @burntheedges

@jasminedragoon @inept-the-magnificent @magpiepills @almostempty @aurorawritestoescape

@milla-frenchy @pedrospatch @thundermartini @lanaispunk @sawymredfox @ace-turned-confused

@stylesispunk @there1snothingleft4u @littlevenicebitch69 @tuquoquebrute @ajw-23

#joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #Cowboy!Joel #joel miller fic #cowboy #no use of y/n #no outbreak au #joel miller fluff #tropeoff2024

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pansexualkiba · 7 months ago

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#Charli XCX #Teddy Swims #Hozier #Post Malone #Morgan Wallen #Tommy Richman #Tinashe #Kendrick Lamar #Shaboozey #Chappell Roan #Billie Eilish #Sabrina Carpenter #music poll

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justwhisperingfantasies · 3 months ago

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daemonium amor

A/n :A drabble for🎉 @rubyvhs 500 song challenge celebration 🎉

430ish words

Warnings- Angst, Couple fighting,

His eyes rose from the book as the clacking of her heeled boots on the tile caught his attention. His gazed traveled up as she passed him, feeling a prickle of excitement as he took in those skinny jeans hugging her curves, that silky black tank cut low enough to show off just enough, her curls bouncing with every step.

A wave of nausea made its way from the pit his stomach, when she picked up her leather jacket and swung it around her. He leaned back in his chair and took a swig of his whiskey. “Let me guess.” He sneered.

She paused just before the entrance to the war room. “You’re seriously mad right now?” He stayed silent, prompting her to spin around. “How did you think this was going to be?”

His jaw clenched, as he felt the anger stir within him.

She slowly made her way over to him. “Did you think I would just settle down and be the perfect little housewife?” she mocked, running her fingers through his hair.

He scoffed, “Didn’t expect you to keep making deals.” He shook away her fingers and stood up, turning to face her.

“You knew what I was going into this.” she closed the space between them, gliding her hands up his chest making his face twist in pain.

“Don’t!” He pushed her hands away and stomped over to the bar cart.

“Dean, why did you start this if you couldn’t handle.”

“Like I have a choice.” he shouted, cutting off her question.

“And you think I do?” she retorted.

She sighed, the clanking started behind him again, quieter this time, her strides hesitant as she made her way to him. He let out a deep breath, attempting to let go of the frustration that bubbled within him, as her arms wrapped around him from behind. He turned around, breaking her hold.

He grasped her hand and brought it gently to his lips. “Stay.”

“Dean…”

His fingers slid to the nape of her neck as he gently pressed his lips against her forehead.

“We will figure it out. There must be something.”

“I gotta go.” Every muscle in his body tensed at her words. She stepped back, leaving his arms longing for her as they dropped to his side. “I’ll be back.”

“Don’t bother.”

She nodded and the clacking started again, with every step his anger intensified.

The bunker door slammed shut and his fury boiled over, sending the chair crashing against the cement wall, shattering it into fragments.

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madhatterbri · 8 months ago

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I Had Some Help | D.P.

Summary: Y/N wakes up next to Damian Priest and he reminds her he isn't the only one that helped get them in bed.

Author's Note: I love song fic requests because there are so many ways a person can interpret the song. ❤️

Requested by: @new-zealand-chic

Taglist: @theworldofotps @mrsarcherofinfamy @smallestsnarkestgirl @brideofinfamy @magicalbuttertarts

"Oh, no, no, no, princesa. I had some help," Damian told the woman in his bed. She had a sheet covering her body as if he hadn't seen all of it the night before. Y/N opened her mouth yet closed it. She didn't remember what exactly happened last night. Embarrassed, she asked him to remind her. A smile popped in his mind as he reminisced.

They were the last two at the hotel bar. He was celebrating another victory against his former best friend, Finn Balor. Damian could see the girl from across the bar. She giggled and waved at him. He smiled politely and waved back. The Archer of Infamy didn't think anything else of the matter until she sat next to him.

He struck up friendly conversations with her. Mostly because he was in a good mood and the adult beverages were kicking in. Also, she was pretty cute. They started to flirt with each other. One thing led to another, and they kissed.

They continued with physical intimacy. Hands and lips rarely left the other. She was fun to be around. The liquor really loosened Y/N up, and she ended up having the same sense of humor as her. They lost track of time, and the bartender informed them the bar was closed.

"I think I should help you to you room," Damian chuckled when they walked into the elevator. They both reached to pick the same number.

"Looks like you can," she giggled. Their lips locked again. Damian couldn't quite remember the parts from the elevator to the room. He only remembered when they made it to his room.

"I was thinking we could both stay here to help with our hangovers," he whispered and wrapped his arms around her waist. Y/N remained in place, staring at his reflection in the mirror. He kissed the side of her neck. She sighed and moved her head to the side.

His fingers laced hers as he led Y/N to his bed. She sat on his bed. He kissed her lips. "So perfect,"

She blushed.

"You are cute when you blush,” He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. His lips were taunting as they moved down to graze the column of her throat. She felt the sharpness of his teeth slide over her skin, and the breath she didn’t know she was holding exhaled in a long, needy moan.

Her eyes rolled when his calloused palms slid beneath her dress, straight to her inner thighs, spreading her legs apart for him. Y/N grabbed his shirt and pulled him in, crashing her lips with his to give him the answer.

He hastily pulled her dress up to bunch around her waist. He seemed to lack patience, and she didn’t attest. Y/N worked on his belt, hands fumbling to get it undone, and he looked down at the struggle with an amused smirk before he stepped back to do it himself.

“Eager?” He smirks. She pulled him back and worked on the buttons of his shirt, but her fingers halted, and her mind spiraled into a blurred haze when she felt him push into her, bottoming out in one swift motion. Grabbing onto his shoulders, she looked up and found that infamous smirk dripping in arrogance.

“Now who’s eager?” Y/N quirked a brow. All she received was a twitch of the corner of Damian's mouth before he wrapped his hands beneath her thighs and hiked them up, holding them firmly at his sides. His hips snapped, the force unforgiving.

With every thrust, the bed hit the wall, the bangs echoing throughout the bedroom. Y/N's head fell back as he rocked into you, two buttons of his shirt letting a sliver of tanned skin and pieces of his tattoos peeking through. He drew his lip beneath his teeth as he picked up the pace. Sweat beads formed at his temple, sliding down to his jaw as he stared directly into Y/N's eyes, unable to look away when she was taking him so well.

“Taking me so well,” he breathily rasped as he kissed her. Her mouth opened, but no words flew past them. Her mind scrambled, and her body set ablaze. It’s a wonder she could even keep her eyes on him.

“You feel so good," she breathlessly moaned, cupping his jaw and swiping her thumb over his bottom lip before she leaned forward and pressed hers to him. He picked up the pace, his thrusts gaining momentum, so much so that Y/N couldn’t hold the kiss. He smirked against her lips and leaned back up, grabbing her leg and hiking her ankle up to his shoulder. He placed a kiss on her inner calf before he leaned forward again, his lips latching to your neck.

Y/N's knee brushed her cheek as he rocked into her. The new angle made her feel him so much deeper that she couldn’t contain the incomprehensible sounds spewing from her lips. She arched her hips to match his thrusts. She clenched around him every time he pulled back, just to draw him right back in.

“Do that again.” He grunted against her neck. She kept arching her hips, lifting them off the bed every time he thrust back into her.

“Shit, just like that - right there.” His deep voice slightly trembled. He was losing his composure, and she knew it. She clenched him as tight as she could just to hear the curses he let out against her shoulder.

“I’m so close,” she managed to break out, her hips ferociously raising to chase after that high that was so close she could taste it. He wordlessly brought a hand down between their slick bodies and started working his thumb on her sensitive bundle of nerves.

Y/N's eyes rolled back, his name flew past her lips, and hers rolled off his tongue twice. Her body jolted with the last three thrusts before she felt herself succumb completely. She held onto him for dear life as he rocked her through the high, slowing the thrusts significantly to make sure she rode it out as long as she could. He pulled back up and locked his lips with hers just as his high took hold.

His hips stuttered, then stilled, and she took every last bit he had to offer. Two more breathy kisses, and he pulled back, a lazy smirk and droopy eyes to match on his face. He looked at her with adoration.

“I guess you did have a little help," she whispered sheepishly. Y/N slid out of the bed to gather her clothes.

"You don't have to just leave. I'd like to get to know you. Want to do brunch?"

#Spotify #fanfiction #wwe fanfiction #wwe fanfic #damian priest fanfic #damian priest smut #damian priest x reader #damian priest x female reader #damian priest x y/n #damian priest fanfiction #damian priest

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mrsoulstice · 6 months ago

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🤠Oh my, Good lord🤠

Shaboozey's “A Bar Song (Tipsy)” surpasses Morgan Wallen's “Last Night” to become the #1 biggest country chart hit of the 2020s decade globally

#black men #spotify #apple music #black excellence #country music #shaboozey #a bar song #tipsy

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spnbabe67 · 1 year ago

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The Simple Act of Breaking Hearts

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem Original Character

Warnings: This is pure angst (fucking made me cry writing this), Hurt/No Comfort, Slapping, Cursing, Dean is a belligerent drunk, implications of cheating, implications of child death (nothing graphic)

Summary: After a hunt involving multiple casualties, Dean goes missing. When Tori finds him, words are exchanged and ties are cut. When Dean comes to the following morning, he is forced to face his actions.

Word Count: 1694

Authors Notes: This was inspired by the songs Last Night by Morgan Wallen and Something In the Orange by Zach Bryan

Let me know if y'all want a part two

It had been a hard hunt. None of them had realized that the nest of vamps was working with a demon, and by the time they figured it out, 3 small children were dead and two more, Tori and Sam had sent to the hospital in critical condition. Like always, Dean had taken their deaths the hardest, not to mention Tori herself had a nasty black eye and a gash slicing across her bicep. Despite her protests that she was fine, Dean still insisted on doing the stitches himself. After he'd completed the last stitch, Dean had fled her room. That was two hours ago, and Tori hadn't seen him since. Well, that was until she found him in some rundown tavern just outside Lebanon city limits.

The first thing Tori noticed as she set foot into the bar was the blasting music, followed by the stench of body odor mingling with cheap alcohol. It was nearly enough to make her vomit, and definitely, enough to trigger an ache at the base of her skull from all her senses being assaulted at once. Tori swallowed hard and made her way, weaving through the throng of bodies. It wasn't hard to find Dean, she'd know him anywhere. The hunter she'd lived with, whose clothes she mixed in with hers, the hunter who'd just a week ago shared her bed. But what she wasn't expecting, was the scantily clad blonde practically curled up in his lap, the two sequestered away in a booth near the back. Tori felt ice flood her veins, making her shiver despite the overwhelming heat in the bar. She licked her lips, huffing an irritated sigh as she walked up to the table.

"Mind if I join you." Tori bit out, ire practically leaking from her body.

If Dean was surprised to see her, then he didn't show it as he spoke. "Actually, I think we do."

The girl on his lap looked up at Tori with a heavy-lidded gaze from where she had been nuzzling at Deans neck. It took years of masking and self control to keep the rage bubbling up in check and not drag the woman by her bottle blonde hair and throw her to the ground.

"Well to fucking bad, Dean." Tori pulled her eyes away from where the girl was sucking another dark mark against Dean's tanned skin, adding to the myriad of them already littering his skin. "Tell your," Tori ran her tongue over her teeth, "Friend, to go get us another round of drinks."

Tori, pulled a few bills from her pocket, slamming them hard enough onto the table to rattle the empty tumblers and cast a few glances their way. One sharp look from Tori had the onlookers quickly returning to their conversations. The blonde looked at Dean and he leaned in whispering in her ear, nipping at the skin below it before pulling away. The woman crawled over Dean to snatch the bills from the table, sauntering up to the bar.

"What are you doing here, Tori." Dean slurred, knocking back what was left of his drink before slinging an arm over the back of the booth.

"I'm bringing you home, Dean. We were fucking worried." Tori started, curling her hands into fists to keep the tears that threatened to well up at bay. "Sam was worried. I was worried."

"Yeah, well, I'm fine." Dean snapped back, words sharp as a blade. "You can go tattle to Sam and tell him I'm fine. Peachy even."

"Dean. I love you, and I will not let you drink yourself to death."

Dean chuckled darkly, the sound roiling some uneasy part in Tori's stomach. "Yeah, well the feelin' ain't mutual sweetheart."

And like that, the bottom of Tori's heart fell straight into her stomach. She took a shuddering breath, shaking her head. "You don't mean that."

"I do." Dean shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. "What're you gonna do about it? Cry?"

Tori blinked, eyes blurry with tears. How could he be so fucking cruel? It was sheer will now keeping her from breaking down completely, and even that was beginning to slowly crumble.

"Fuck you, Winchester." Tori spat, clenching her fists so hard she barely registered the blood trickling from where her nails had bit through the flesh of her palms. "You're drunk."

Dean got up from the table, legs unsteady enough for him to place a hand on the table to prevent himself from falling. Tori reached out, but he slapped her hand away. He took a step forward, their chests millimeters from touching. She could smell the alcohol on his breath invading her nose and into her lungs to the point Tori wondered if she could get drunk if she breathed deep enough.

"And you're a nothing but a fucking slut. But you know what?" Dean gripped her chin, making her gaze shift from where she had been staring a hole into his chest to meet his. "In the morning I'll be sober, and you'll still be a pathetic whore who sucks the life out of people."

Tori's hand made contact with Dean's face before she had time to think. Her eyes were drawn to the lines of red dripping down his face from where the impact of her nails had sliced into his face, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

"I wish I'd never met you." Tori snarled, ripping Dean's hand from her face before he spun on her heel and disappeared back into the wave of patrons with no look back.

The first thing Dean registered when he woke up the next morning, was the pounding in his head. It was a herculean task for him to crack his eyes open. All he could remember was leaving the bunker, images of the dead on a reel in his mind, driving to a bar. Flashes kept coming in and out, drinking at a bar, Tori being there, but most too fast for him to comprehend. At least not while he was this hung over. Dean rubbed a fist against his eyes before blinking them open. It was much to his confusion when he was met with the sight of a naked woman sharing his bed. A naked woman that was very much not Tori, and in a bed that was very much not his room at the bunker. A sinking feeling started to nag at the back of his mind. He sat up, not caring if he woke the blonde woman in the bed, surveying the dingy motel room. If the sun peeking through the cracks in the yellowed blinds had indication, there were several hours between the present and the last sober memory he could recall.

Dean slipped out of the bed, frowning at his own nakedness before slipping himself back into the jeans that were discarded on the floor. He closed the bathroom door behind him before walking to the sink. He cursed under his breath as he beheld the blue and black mottling the left side of his face along with the two or three small cuts on his cheekbone. He ran the water in the sink cold before splashing it onto his face. The icy water was enough to send a shock through his system and the dam broke. Everything came flooding back like the water tumbling from the tap. Getting rip roaring drunk, making out with the blonde in the bathroom, Tori showing up, his downright vile words, her slapping him before disappearing as quickly as she came, tumbling through the motel room with the woman in the bed.

"Fuck." Dean whispered, before turning the water off and stumbling back into the room, hastily pulling his shirt on. He didn't take the time to tie his boots before running out of the motel room.

Dean was sure he'd broken a significant number of driving laws getting back to the bunker, not bothering to lock Baby before making his way into the bunker. The silence he'd grown to love about he bunker was now eerie without the sound of Tori's laughter, the music she'd blare while doing practically anything. His heart sunk as he approached his room, the door left cracked open. He slowly pushed it the rest of the way. Just days before he'd helped Tori move her stuff into his room. But now, every trace of her was gone. The bed was made, with every piece of clothing she had borrowed from him folded neatly on her side. A quick check in the dresser revealed that her clothes, along with the ones in the closet, were gone.

Dean's eyes slid to the desk, where Tori's sketchbook and pencils had taken up residence. Those were gone too. And in their stead, was a single folded piece of notebook paper addressed to him and a set of key. One was a copy of the key to the Bunker he had made for Tori when she officially moved into the bunker years ago, and the other was the key to the car she'd fixed up in her time here, the car Dean had given to her for her birthday last year. Dean took the note with a gentleness you'd think he held a bomb, not a piece of paper. He slumped down onto his bed, and with a shaky breath and equally shaky hands, opened it and began reading the note written in Tori's familiar, elegant scrawl.

Dean,

By the time you read this, I'll be long gone. Don't bother asking Sam where I went, he got his own note, but nothing regarding my whereabouts. The keys to the bunker and to the car are on your desk. I took nothing I didn't come here with, or bought on my own.

I'm not sure if I'm to thank you or curse you for the memories over the years. Those aren't so easily washed away as it was to wash the clothes I stole from you. I owe you no debts, and you owe me nothing in return. I wish you no ill will, only the best, which is what you deserve

Don't bother coming to look for me. I've disappeared once, I know how to do it again.

Love,

Tori

#dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester imagine #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #supernatural dean #supernatural fanfiction

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