#the way they are at some park/ranch

[partiallypearl]

this photo of the boys encapsulates the vibe i imagine they (tv!btr) had in minnesota

[punkshort]

Roommates | 10. just us two

Pairing: (ex)pornstar!joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: You and Joel settle into your new lives together.

Chapter Warnings: language, alcohol and food consumption, massive quantities of fluff, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex (reader is on BC), oral sex (f!receiving), spanking, pussy pronouns, multiple orgasms, some sex tape action 👀

WC: 7.1K

A/N: Okay, we've reached the end of the road for these two! I can't believe I'm wrapping up another fic, jfc. Thank you so much for sticking around and expressing so much love and excitement for this story. It means so much to me that I'm able to share this part of myself with people who are just as happy as me about these characters. This chapter wasn't really necessary, most loose ends are already tied up but they deserved to be happy, so this entire chapter is just love and fluff and smut. Shout out to @txtattoostark for listening to me yap and for the watermelon moonshine inspo. Enjoy, and thanks again ❤️

Series Masterlist

One Month Later

Joel smiled to himself as he watched you in the kitchen with his mom from his spot in the living room. The old radio next to the sink, dusty and missing two buttons, was softly playing jazz music while you both worked on dinner. It wasn't the trailer park he grew up in. The small ranch house his mother bought with the life insurance money she received after his father passed away wasn't too bad. He begged her for years to let him give her some money, to buy her a place closer to town, to pay for new appliances at the very least, but she always refused. Instead, he found himself visiting her whenever he had a few days off so he could fix the sink or the washer or cut the grass.

He didn't mind. It was a good excuse to come visit. He enjoyed catching up and spending time with her.

But now, with you? Watching the way you seamlessly moved around the kitchen, laughing with his mom and stirring things in pots while swaying your hips in those tight denim shorts... yeah, this was different. This was much better.

"Hey, brother," Tommy said from behind, startling him out of his rosy daydream. Joel stood with a smile to engulf Tommy in a hug once he kicked off his shoes.

"You look tan," he remarked, then reached for Maria and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"New Orleans was sunny," Tommy said, holding some bottle of clear alcohol in his hand. "Brought back some moonshine. Watermelon. Mama's favorite."

"Oh, Tommy! Maria! You're back!" their mother cried from the kitchen before wiping her hands on a towel and hurrying over to the front door, her worn out blue slippers catching on the rug as she walked. "How was your honeymoon?" she asked after she squeezed them both within an inch of their lives.

"Amazing," Maria said happily. "We had such a great time. Have you ever been?"

Mrs. Miller shook her head. "Maybe James will take me one day."

"Is he here?" Tommy asked, handing his mother the liquor.

"No, he's visiting his daughter out of town this weekend. Come on, I have some snacks out."

The four of them entered the kitchen and you swiveled around with a big smile. Setting down the wooden spoon you were holding, you threw your arms around Maria's neck, then Tommy's.

"How was it?" you asked them, your eyes sparkling with excitement.

You and Maria fell into an animated conversation about some haunted ghost tour when Tommy cleared his throat and propped his hands on his hips.

The pair of you stopped talking to look at him questioningly, then realization dawned on you. You smirked and shook your head before digging into your back pocket to pull out a folded bill and slapped it into his palm.

"You were right, Tommy."

He laughed and tucked the money into his shirt pocket.

"Thought you mighta forgot."

Joel frowned and looked between the two of you curiously, but Maria seemed to know exactly what was going on because she was already chuckling to herself.

You glanced over at Joel, who was eating a cracker with cheese, and your expression softened. "Best hundred bucks I ever lost."

"The hell you givin' him a hundred bucks for?" Joel asked incredulously, but you just slipped your arms around his waist and rested your chin against his chest with a smile.

"I lost a bet," you told him.

He practically melted into a puddle under your touch. He couldn't get enough. After a year of denying yourselves or sneaking around, it felt so good to be open. He refused to ever take it for granted, so he tilted your face up and pressed a tender kiss against your lips. He felt your mouth twitch into a smile when Tommy groaned in fake disgust.

"Thought we were the newlyweds here."

You broke the kiss to shoot him a look over your shoulder.

"Try and keep up."

Joel tossed his head back and laughed, then released his hold on you so you could return to the stove. Maria washed her hands and picked up a knife to chop vegetables and Tommy reached for the bottle of moonshine their mother left on the counter.

"Let's crack into this," he said, and Joel nodded. He weaved through the kitchen to open up the cupboard where the glasses were kept, grabbing five tumblers. You were swaying again with the music and you gently knocked into him with your hips, just enough to tease him, and he sucked in a sharp breath.

"Watch yourself, baby," he warned with a wink before placing the glasses down next to Tommy so he could pour.

Joel couldn't remember a time he had seen his mother look so happy. The five of them sat around her dining room table, a table made for four but you all squeezed in, knees knocking together underneath, arms brushing against one another, and it felt perfect.

He leaned back in his chair after finishing his food, one arm draped along the back of your chair, his other hand loosely holding his glass of moonshine and he smiled. He tried to pay attention to Maria and his brother tell stories about their honeymoon, but he had a hard time looking away from you. Eventually, he stopped trying. His gaze slid down your face, admiring your smile and the way your eyes crinkled when you laughed.

He was so fucking lucky.

Tearing his eyes away to bring his glass to his lips, he caught his mother watching him across the table with a knowing smile. She winked at him before giving Tommy her attention once again and Joel felt his face warm.

Once dinner was over, he and Tommy stood to clear everyone's plates. A habit that was formed early on in their lives. Whoever didn't cook had to clean up.

After the dishes were done and the leftovers were packed away, the two brothers refilled their glasses and wandered out to the back porch where their mother, you and Maria had ended up.

Maria and Mrs. Miller were strolling around the yard, their mother pointing out plants and flowers and telling Maria some long winded story about each. The deer hate this one. Cindy up the street cut a chunk of this out of her garden for me, can you believe how big it is now? I got this from Home Depot on clearance half dead, look how good it's doing.

"Better go save her," Tommy murmured before jogging down the steps. Joel plopped himself next to you on the porch with a sigh and clinked your glasses together.

"Lucky you already got the flower tour earlier," he told you.

You bit your lip and chuckled. "She really loves her garden."

The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes. The sun was setting and you could hear the crickets coming to life all around you. Birds swooped anxiously overhead, rushing back to their nests for the night. A cool breeze floated through the air, rustling your hair and making you shiver.

"C'mere," he murmured, patting his thigh. You smirked and shook your head but put your glass down and stood to perch on his leg, wrapping your arms around his neck lovingly and giving him a chaste kiss.

He hummed in approval and licked his lips. "Taste good."

"Like watermelon?" you asked, fingers twisting around the long strands of hair on the back of his head.

He nodded. "And you."

You kissed him once again, lingering a bit longer that time so you could fully appreciate the softness of his lips between yours and breathing in deep the scent of soap still stuck to his skin.

Then voices began to grow louder behind you, indicating your alone time was coming to an end.

Tommy stumbled on the stairs leading up the porch and you turned around on Joel's lap. He wrapped his arms around your waist, keeping you right where you were, before teasing his brother.

"Better take it easy. You been out for two weeks at work, you ain't callin' in tomorrow 'cause you're hungover."

Tommy rolled his eyes and took your abandoned chair.

"Yes, boss."

"How are things at the bar, Joel?" his mother asked, sitting down with a sigh. "I'm so glad you found some work I can actually tell my girlfriends about without lying."

You stifled a giggle and glanced at Maria, who was also trying to hold back her laughter.

"Good, Mama," Joel said, ignoring her other comment. His chin came to rest over your shoulder as he spoke. "The remodel is done. Opened up the room so there's a place to dance. Easier for customers to move around. Everyone's been real excited to see the changes. Been busy."

"He's been working so hard, too," you added, twisting to your side so your fingers could lovingly rake through the hair on the back of his neck. "Some days I don't even see him."

Mrs. Miller gave you a sympathetic look but you could tell she was proud of her oldest son for venturing outside his comfort zone and applying himself.

"So you're all moved in, I take it?" Maria asked, and you nodded.

"Didn't really have much. Most of my things were still packed from when I moved out."

"She's been sprucin' up the place, too. You oughta see it," Joel said fondly. "Got pretty lookin' art on the walls, fluffy pillows and blankets for the couch. Actually got some food in the damn fridge, too."

Tommy laughed heartily. "That mean you'll stop swipin' fries and shit from the kitchen?"

"Hey, I'm payin' for those fries. I'll take 'em if I want 'em," he said with a scowl, then looked up at you, his eyes softening. "But it's nice to have dinner waitin' for me at home," he added, bringing a smile to your face.

"You were always terrible at cooking," you teased, tugging on his earlobe playfully between your fingers.

The night dragged on, the stars lit up the quiet night sky and Mrs. Miller eventually began to yawn, indicating it was time to head home.

Home.

It felt so right to think of it that way. It was where you belonged. But you knew it wasn't simply the house. You could have been living in a shack and you would still be just as happy because it was with him.

Joel gripped your thigh while he drove his truck with one hand on the steering wheel. The windows were down, the wind whipped at your face, tangling your hair when you turned your head to gaze over at him.

"See anythin' you like?" he teased when he spotted you admiring him from the corner of his eye.

You giggled and felt his fingers squeeze your bare leg.

"You know what I want?"

The corner of his mouth tugged upwards and his eyes darkened with excitement. "What's that, sweetheart?"

You seductively ran your palm up his arm, sighing at the way his muscles twitched under your fingertips.

"I would really, really love... a vegetable garden."

You laughed at the way his face fell in mock disappointment.

"I'll build you a vegetable garden," he finally said as he turned onto your street.

"Really?" you asked with a huge smile. He nodded and shot you a wink.

"'Course. Whatever you want, baby."

Joel stayed true to his word. About a week later you woke up on Saturday morning to the distant sound of a hammer beating a piece of wood in the backyard. Stretching a lazy arm out to your side, you pouted when you found Joel was missing.

Then the pieces slowly clicked together.

It was a rare weekend off for him. You had been talking about it for the past few days. He was looking forward to Tommy returning to work so he wouldn't be so short staffed and he could relax with you for two whole days. You didn't come up with any plans except laying in bed, ordering takeout and watching movies, content to just spend time together. But Joel sweetly surprised you by waking up early, something he absolutely detested, so he could build you the vegetable garden you asked for.

You lightly padded down the steps still clad in your tank top and shorts to grab a mug from the cupboard. The coffee pot sizzled with heat when you plucked it from the burner, half the liquid already gone. Once you fixed it the way you liked, you walked out onto the back deck and leaned over the railing, your mug cupped in both hands, to fully appreciate the sight before you.

Joel had his back to you as he crouched over a simple rectangular wooden frame on the ground. You could see the sweat collecting on the back of his neck and it made your mouth water. As your eyes traveled lower, you noticed the dark patches in his shirt forming at his collar and between his shoulder blades, making your thighs clench together while he worked, completely oblivious to you watching him, listening to him grunt and sigh when he lifted a new piece of wood.

You swallowed thickly before taking a sip of your coffee, your eyes never leaving his form while he stood to stretch his back. He lifted his hat from his head and wiped his brow with the back of his forearm and you sunk your teeth into your lower lip. Something was so fucking hot about him getting all sweaty and worked up, but on that particular day? When he was making you something, sacrificing his rare down time just for you? It lit a fire inside you that couldn't be tamed.

Before he noticed, you scooted back inside to fill up a glass of ice water. With your hand hovering over the door handle, you got an idea that sent a jolt of arousal right through you. Without giving yourself a chance to overthink it, you pulled down your shorts and underwear, kicking your panties off to land on the couch, and shimmied your shorts back on.

Your pulse was fucking racing with excitement when you stepped outside once again, but this time you made sure to make a little noise so Joel would hear you. When the door clicked shut, he turned around and grinned before setting down his tools and stepping into the shade.

"Thank you, darlin'," he murmured when you handed him the water.

"You're welcome," you replied, your hands clasping behind your back as you practically vibrated in place with nervous energy. His eyes flicked down your body curiously right when he was finishing up his drink.

"Sleep okay?" he asked, sensing something was off while he set the glass down on the deck.

"Mhmm," you said, a nervous grin spreading across your face. "Missed you, though."

He chuckled and wiped some sweat away from his face with the bottom of his shirt. Your mouth went dry and your eyes instantly locked onto his tanned stomach and the dark smattering of curls that led below his waistband. The sleep shorts you were wearing were thin. If they were a lighter color, you could probably see right through them if you really looked. As it turned out, they were also terrible at absorbing moisture because they were sticking uncomfortably to your inner thighs while you waited for him to notice.

"Huh?" you said when you realized he was speaking.

He shook his head and dropped his shirt back down. "I said, I'm makin' you the damn garden you wanted."

You inched forward and took his hand in yours. "Well, do you think it can wait? Because I need to show you something inside that needs your help."

Somehow, he was still not picking up what you were implying.

"Baby, I'm on a roll. I just need another hour, maybe two-"

You tugged the hand you were holding between your legs and his eyes widened when he felt the wetness waiting for him there.

"Sorry. Got tired of being subtle," you told him with a playful smirk. He whipped his head around, checking to see if any of the neighbors were out tending to their lawns or enjoying their morning coffee on their patios while his fingers hooked around the soaked material.

You saw in his face the exact moment he realized you were bare underneath your shorts. It was like his brain was buffering, desperately trying to calculate how long he allowed you to stand there practically begging to be fucked while he rambled on about a goddamn garden. The surprise in his features slowly faded into the hazy, lust filled gaze you were so familiar with, and you smiled triumphantly.

"Get your ass inside right fuckin' now before I do somethin' that'll get us both thrown in jail," he growled, something primal shifting in his face while his body flooded with arousal, his need for you dripping heavier in his veins with each steady beat of his heart.

You squeaked and covered your ass when he swat at you from behind, then you hurried past him, back into the house.

Looking back on it, to think you would have made it upstairs to your bedroom was comical. His hands grabbed your hips halfway up the carpeted steps, pulling you down as you laughed giddily and pretended to try to fight off his attack, clawing fruitlessly at the stairs while he smiled into your lower back where his mouth was alternating kisses and bites across your skin.

"You wanted attention, you got it," he mumbled before yanking your shorts down and sinking his teeth into the flesh of your ass. Not enough to really hurt, but enough to make you yelp in surprise and leave a few linear indents in your skin.

Joel usually took his time with you. He preferred it that way. He liked to watch your face as he tormented you between your legs. He liked to see what new sounds he could pull from your throat when he changed an angle.

But not that day.

No, that day he yanked your shorts all the way off, tossing them over his shoulder and down the steps before grabbing your hips with his hands, all rough and sweaty from working outside.

You braced yourself for the inevitable stretch, the welcome yet slightly painful intrusion that you yearned for, but what happened next shocked you.

Your eyes widened and you gasped when you felt his mouth descend on your pussy from behind, his tongue immediately setting an intense pace, which was a change from the way he usually ate you. But speed and passion weren't the only variation. He never, ever went down on you from behind before.

"I- J-Joel, what are... oh," you moaned, eyes fluttering closed as he lapped eagerly at your core. Instinctively, you spread your hips and sunk down further onto his mouth. Your cheek was rubbing harshly against the carpet and your lips were parted, allowing a small trail of drool to trickle down your chin. If you had any awareness left, you might have cared, but the pleasure he was building between your legs left your brain completely numb.

"Oh, fuck yes, Joel - keep going, just like that," you groaned, reaching behind you blindly to grab a fistful of his hair. "Fuck you and that fucking mouth," you gasped when his tongue flatted against your clit. He chuckled against your core but didn't stop. His hand slid up the back of your thigh and gave your cheek a firm jiggle before smacking his palm down across your ass. You jolted forward, your forehead bumping up against the next step, and cried out for more so he did it again, but on the other side.

"You like that?" he panted, pulling away from you for just a moment to catch his breath. You arched your back, giving him a generous view of the mess he left between your legs and he was afraid for the first time ever that he might come completely untouched. He inhaled sharply and pinched the bridge of his nose when he saw your cunt pulse, calling to him like a goddamn siren at sea. "Fuck, so beautiful," he growled before closing his eyes and picking up right where he left off.

His thumbs spread your lips so his tongue could tease your entrance, scooping up your arousal and rutting his hips against the stairs, eating you like he was about to go off to war.

"I'm... oh, shit, Joel!" you exclaimed, pulling at his hair roughly so he wouldn't dare try to stop when you were so close to your climax. And he could sense it. He was good at that. He knew what you needed sometimes before you even knew. So once again, he brought his palm down sharply across your ass, a little harder that time but not too much. Just enough to leave a few seconds of sting, electrifying your nerve endings and pulling you over the edge.

Two tears rolled down your cheeks when you came. The little bit of pain from his hand and the carpet digging into your cheek and knees mixed with your pleasure in such a way that it left you breathless.

Finally, once he felt your legs begin to tremble and whimpers fell from your lips, he pulled away with a deep gasp. His eyes were pinned to the way your pussy looked; all drenched with a combination of his spit and your release, and he cursed under his breath.

"She looks so fuckin' good, baby, wish you could see what I see," he murmured, mesmerized as he continued to stare without any shame. You hardly had any of your senses. Your breath was ragged and your throat was dry but still, you tilted your chin and whispered, "show me."

A wide smile stretched across his face and his eyes lit up.

"Yeah? You'd let me take a picture of this pretty pussy?" he asked, but he was already digging in his back pocket for his phone. You nodded, eyes still closed.

When both his hands left your waist, you arched your back a bit more and spread your legs, presenting yourself to him. You heard a deep groan rumble from his chest and he whispered, "fuckin' natural, baby," before you heard the shutter on his phone. One, two, three times at least you heard the familiar little click, click, then he leaned over your slumped body and slid his phone in front of your face.

"See? Look at you. Look at what I get to see," he murmured into your ear. Your eyes opened and widened as you stared at your wrecked pussy on the screen.

"Oh, wow," you breathed, not expecting at all to find it sexy, but you did. You fucking did. "Look at what you did to me," you said, craning your neck over your shoulder. His eyes flickered with heat and his mouth crashed down onto yours.

"Just wait til I split you open on my cock," he said, his voice rumbling against your back. "Have you all stuffed full with my cum. Now that's a pretty sight."

You groaned and shakily pushed yourself up.

"I'm begging you, please, Joel... do not fuck me on these stairs. My knees are killing me."

He laughed and helped you stand, legs wobbling just a little.

"Nah. I got an idea and we can't do it here."

You laid underneath the covers in bed, your lower half still bare and your tank top still on while you nervously chewed on your lower lip, watching Joel at the foot of the bed tinker with a camcorder he had buried somewhere in his closet that he swore up and down he never used with anyone else.

Never wanted to before, he had said when you eyed it suspiciously after he explained he swiped it from a set when it was used as a prop in one of his films years ago.

"Battery's dead but I'll just leave it plugged in," he said, then he flipped out the little screen tucked into the side of the device and swiveled it around so it was facing out. He set it on his end table and adjusted it until he was satisfied with the angle, then looked over his shoulder with a grin.

"You sure?" he clarified again. Your eyes flickered from him to the camera, then back again.

"Yeah," you squeaked, your voice very clearly betraying you. His gaze softened and he leaned across the bed to press a chaste kiss against your forehead.

"We don't gotta do this," he assured you. "I don't wanna make you uncomfortable."

"No," you replied, shaking your head. "I want to, I'm just nervous."

He scoffed and readjusted himself so he was lying next to you, blocking the idle camera.

"Nothin' to be nervous 'bout. It's just for me 'n you," he murmured before cupping your face and pressing his lips tenderly against yours. When his tongue swiped over your bottom lip, you sighed and looped your arms around his neck, melting into his embrace and deepening the kiss. His hand slid down from your cheek to squeeze your breast, groaning a little when he pinched your nipple through the fabric of your tank top.

His lips dragged down to your jaw, his teeth grazing your throat until he found a spot he liked and latched on while pushing the sheets from your body. The anticipation bubbled up while his hand continued to travel lower, your legs instinctively falling open for him. You finally relaxed when he successfully distracted you with his fingers through your folds and gasped as he slid two inside you with ease.

"Oh, yeah, you're ready for me," he moaned into your neck, his erection bordering on painful. He exhaled shakily when one of your hands wrapped around his length and began to gently stroke him, your palm so soft and warm that he almost forgot about the camera.

"C'mon, baby, sit up f'me," he said, pulling his hand from between your legs and leaning back so he could kick his jeans off. You scrambled to sit, your breaths coming in shallow pants as you watched him tug his shirt over his head. When he reached for the hem of your tank top, he paused and turned to tap the record button on the camcorder. Instantly, your limbs went rigid and your hands fell to your lap, covering yourself, but when he turned back to you he pinched your chin in his fingers, pulling your nervous gaze from the camera lens.

"Eyes on me," he told you, his voice low and deep, sending a shiver down your spine.

You nodded and raised your arms so he could peel off your tank top. He tossed it onto the floor and sat back on his heels to admire the way your tits sat exposed to him, his eyes darkening when your nipples hardened with arousal. He lunged forward and took one in his mouth, his hot, wet tongue lavishing your pebbled skin before switching to the other one. You tipped your head back and moaned, mouth open as you stared up blankly at the ceiling, your fingers rising to get tangled in his hair.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, planting little kisses all over your chest and circling his arms around your ribs, tugging you closer. You wrapped your legs around his waist, trembling when his cock pressed between your bodies, his erection sliding through your wet heat and suddenly you couldn't breathe.

"I-I need you," you whimpered, weakly lifting your hips into his lap.

"I know, baby, I know," he hummed. One hand dropped to cup your ass so he could reposition his legs underneath you, then flexed his hips so the tip of his cock lined up with your opening. "Want me to fuck you just like this? Sittin' in my lap?"

You nodded, your eyelids heavy with desire as you tightened your grip around his neck. The second he pressed into you, you gasped. He watched with adoration as your eyebrows pinched together in concentration, breathing deep and slow as you relaxed and slowly took him.

"Joel," you whispered, jaw slack. "Joel, I love you."

He moaned and pulled your hips flush with his, forcing you to take the last few inches all at once. "I love you, too, baby. Christ, you're incredible. Fuckin' look at you."

Look at you. His words made you remember the camera. Your eyes flickered over to the little rectangular screen, the outline of your bodies perfectly centered, and you swallowed tightly.

"Pretend like it's the mirror," he whispered in your ear as he began to gently rock in and out, "just like the mirror at the hotel, okay?"

You nodded and sighed, your shoulders loosening and your muscles relaxing as you began to roll your hips in rhythm with his. He tightened his grip around your middle, his body engulfing you in warmth. You rested your head on his shoulder as he continued to fuck you nice and slow, stretching you out around him, reaching depths that had you reeling.

This was it. There was nothing else outside those four walls. You had everything you ever wanted right there. The way he kissed you, touched you, made love to you always left you feeling so safe. Deep down, you always knew he was the missing piece in your life, the mysterious thing you kept searching for in others and were always left disappointed. Because nobody else ever loved you and cared for you the way he did.

"I'm so lucky to have you," you told him, your tongue dragging up his neck, collecting the dried sweat with a moan. You began to bounce in his lap a little faster and he immediately matched your pace with thrusts of his own.

"I'm the one who's lucky," he said through clenched teeth. He exhaled heavily through his nose and tucked his chin to his chest so he could watch himself disappear inside your cunt. "So soft. Softest pussy. So fuckin' warm and wet, you feel so good. Goddamnit, every fuckin' time..."

You smiled to yourself as you listened to him ramble. "Maybe we're both lucky."

He chuckled and you gasped when his cock brushed up against that one spot that made you see stars. You feverishly grabbed his face with both hands and bit desperately at his lower lip, pulling it between your teeth and making him groan.

Your body was loose and pliant now, so with more confidence you quickened the roll of your hips, relishing in the way his cock felt dragging in and out of you, how your clit rubbed against the coarse hair at his base, in the noises you managed to pull from his throat each time your skin slapped together.

"Yeah, that's it, baby. Show me what you like. Oh, good girl," he groaned, hands sliding up your back to hold you as you began to lose yourself. He could see it in the look in your eyes and the way your fingers dug into his shoulders.

It was the most beautiful fucking thing.

Your body moved perfectly in tandem with his, your sharp gasps and his deep groans filling the room, the camera long forgotten by now.

"Oh, god, I'm close," you whimpered as you felt the heat that had been building begin to quickly creep up and spread through your stomach. "Oh, fuck. Oh, god... Joel, don't stop, please..." you begged, your breath coming in ragged gasps as your vision began to blur.

"I ain't stoppin'. C'mon, give it to me, lemme feel you," he growled. He snapped steadily into you now, each thrust punctuated by a grunt while his eyes locked on yours, watching with pride as you crumbled and fell apart, your walls squeezing him so beautifully as you came that it nearly pulled him right over the edge with you.

It happened fast. One second you were in his lap, your body tingling with the aftershocks of your orgasm and the next he had pulled out of you and flipped you onto your hands and knees. Only when you felt his thick cock slide back inside did you fully realize you had switched positions. And shit, taking him from that particular angle always was so much more intense, but combined with the fact that your new view included the camera in the corner of your eye made everything so much more powerful.

You could fucking see him now and you couldn't look away, completely entranced with the way his face looked as he slammed into you. His mouth hung open as he looked down at you with what could only be described as complete and utter desire. You could feel his hand running up the length of your spine but you could also see the look of worship in his eye, the way his face twisted in pleasure when he watched your ass ripple from the force of his hips, and you felt a heavy wave suddenly crash over you once again.

"Oh, fuck!" Joel groaned loudly as he watched another orgasm shoot through you. His hands grabbed at your waist to try to keep you still, but you were trembling everywhere and you couldn't hold yourself up any longer.

You fell onto your elbows, the side of your face pressing into the bed while he held up your hips, fucking into you harder now that he could tell you were spent. "I'm gonna come, baby, I'm -" he cut himself off with a desperate whine, the buildup from the past hour or so becoming too much and causing his release to intensify.

Your bodies finally stilled and he pumped you full of his spend, his groans getting caught in his throat as he pulsed inside you. He watched in a daze when his cum started to leak out even though he was still inside, and without thinking, he snatched the camera from the bedside table so he could get a close up.

"Fuckin' hell, baby," he whispered hoarsely, chest heaving and hands shaking as he held the camera at his chest, pointing it down to where you were connected. "So glad you're back on the pill. Fuckin' beautiful, all full of me like this. Shit," he muttered, swiping a finger to collect some of his release to rub it over your clit. With a whine, your body jolted forward and he chuckled before dropping his hand, knowing you were too overstimulated.

"Joel," you whispered tiredly. Your eyelids were heavy and your thighs were shaking from the effort of holding yourself up.

"I know, baby, just one more thing and then I'll clean you up," he promised. He took a deep breath and steadied the camera before slipping out of you.

He made a pained noise in the back of his throat when he watched through the lens the way your body leaked of him, your pussy all swollen and stretched out, completely fucked, messy and used.

"Jesus," he croaked, wishing he could keep filming but your body sagged forward and he stopped the recording before tossing the camera onto the other side of the bed so he could check on you.

"You alright?"

You nodded, eyes closed, lips bitten raw, hair a complete mess but you still wore a satisfied smile.

"Tired. I think I'm gonna just..." you yawned and stretched out your shaky limbs. "Just gonna close my eyes for a sec."

He grinned and stood up to go to the bathroom, plucking a couple clean washcloths from the linen closet and wetting them both under the faucet so he could clean himself up with one and take the other back to you.

"Did you eat?" he asked softly as he gently and carefully dragged the washcloth through your thighs. You shook your head, eyes still closed. "I'm gonna go make you somethin'. Gotta eat, honey," he whispered before kissing the top of your head and covering you with the sheet. But by the time he came back upstairs with a bagel and cream cheese, you were fast asleep.

So you're getting married, then?

Well, he hasn't really asked me, not in so many words.

Four, you mean?

Huh?

Well, that's how many it takes: will you marry me?

Your eyes fluttered open when you heard two familiar voices reciting an even more familiar dialogue from the television, the volume turned down so low, you could hear the neighbor's dog barking from four houses down.

Joel shifted in bed next to you as quietly as he could, unaware you had awoken. You peered up at him, hair all messy, chest still bare, and you smiled when you caught him stifling a laugh at Audrey Hepburn.

"Hey," you said, voice coming out rougher than you expected, so you cleared your throat. He immediately muted the television and turned toward you, grinning as his eyes raked up and down your sleep-addled face.

"Hey, yourself," he said softly. He pushed the hair off your face, letting his thumb linger on your cheek while he continued to examine you closely. "Feelin' okay?"

You nodded and yawned, stretching your sore legs out underneath the blankets. "You fucked me into a coma."

He laughed heartily and rubbed his palm over his chest, embarrassment flushing his bronzed skin.

"But I guess that's what I get for shacking up with a pornstar," you added with a giggle. He tossed his head back and laughed even louder at that and you couldn't resist, his happiness too infectious. You inched forward and nuzzled into his side, his arm dropping to wrap around your shoulders.

When the laughter died down, he gazed lovingly at you and, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear, reminded you, "ex-pornstar, but I suppose old habits die hard, huh?"

"Mm, maybe, but that's okay," you said, tracing light, invisible patterns on his stomach. "It's nothing I can't handle."

He cocked an eyebrow at you and smirked. "Careful, or I might have'ta hold you to that."

"Bring it on, superstar," you whispered before leaning up and pressing a gentle, soft kiss against his mouth. You licked your lips and hummed before looking up at him through your lashes. "Cream cheese?"

"I made you a bagel, but you fell asleep," he admitted, "but figured we could relax the rest of the day. Order in, watch movies... just like we said we would."

"I don't remember saying we would do all that naked," you teased.

"Thought that was implied, baby," he said with a frown. "You shacked up with a pornstar, what'd you expect?"

What did you expect? Did you ever imagine your life would turn out the way it did? Sitting in bed with a sheet wrapped around you, eating Chinese food and watching a Turner Classic Movies marathon with the man of your dreams? You always wished for it; before you met, after you became friends, while you were carrying on an illicit affair, and even when you weren't on speaking terms, you always, always wished for it. But did you ever really think it would come true?

You couldn't really remember, and at that point, it didn't matter. Because you didn't care how you got there, just as long as you were together, you were happy.

You did exactly what he said you would do. You stayed in bed until the sun began to set, wasting the whole day away curled into his side watching old movies and pointing out your favorite parts, exactly the way you used to.

It was around nine when Joel suggested going out for ice cream. Let's get out, stretch our legs and walk along the river, he had said after vowing to finish your vegetable garden the next day.

And on your way out, your hands fused together even while he struggled to lock the door one handed, you looked at the chairs on his porch and smiled to yourself.

"What's that for?" he asked, tapping your cheek lovingly while you walked side by side to his truck.

"Nothing, it's stupid," you told him with a shrug.

"Ain't nothin' you got to say is stupid to me."

You sighed when he let your hand go so you could round the truck and hop into the passenger seat. After you clicked your seatbelt into place, he put the keys in the ignition but waited to turn it on. Instead, he looked at you expectantly with his eyebrows raised.

"Fine," you mumbled, "I'm gonna sound fucking crazy, but... fine."

"Oh, well now this I gotta hear," he said.

You gave him a look before turning in your seat to face him. "The chairs on your porch." He nodded.

"So far, not crazy."

You rolled your eyes. "Remember when I came by to drop off the shirts for the Jack and Jill party?"

He nodded again and you could feel the self-consciousness begin to creep up.

"We weren't on great terms back then. I had just found out you bought a house. I felt like I hardly even knew you anymore. And I was so damn nervous, I didn't want to fuck things up even more than I already had, but when I saw you had two..." You paused when you saw the flicker of understanding cross his face. "I thought you maybe found someone else. I know. It's crazy, like I said."

Joel smiled and reached his hand across the seat to lace together with yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

"Got the second one for you."

Your eyes snapped up to his in surprise.

"What?" you breathed.

He gave you a shrug and tilted his head bashfully. "I was just waitin' for you."

Tears welled in your eyes as you fumbled with the seatbelt, unbuckling yourself so you could stretch your body over to his seat and pull him into a deep kiss.

"I thought I lost you," you whispered against his mouth, and he chuckled.

"You didn't. I was all yours that very first night, sweetheart."

You didn't even try to deny it. He was right. It seemed so obvious now. Why didn't you see it back then? But before you began to mentally chastise yourself for being so bullheaded, you stopped. You couldn't change the past, something you've been learning to accept in therapy for months now, but what you could do was focus on your future. And while you sat next to Joel as he drove towards your favorite ice cream place in town, windows down and stars twinkling in the sky, you smiled because your future together looked pretty damn bright.

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Midnight Rain

Summary: Waking up in the middle of the night to a storm raging outside, you find Javi outside on the porch, deciding to have him right then and there.

Pairing: Javier Peña x fem. reader

Rating: E

Wordcount: 1.9k

Warnings: oblivious idiots, mentions of divorced reader, reader in her mid thirties, smoking (both Javi and reader), alcohol, thunder storms, smut (unprotected sex, semi public sex), kissing, one ass slap, dirty talk, the word slut is used, some fluff at the end

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Full Masterlist // Javier Peña Masterlist

You couldn’t sleep.

Well, you couldn’t fall back asleep. 

When you got back to the ranch earlier that evening you had eaten a sandwich, taken a shower and fallen asleep as soon as your head had fallen against your pillow. 

It had been a long day of taking care of all the horses and making sure the barn was secured for the night. 

The heavy rain outside must have woken you up, the storm that had been forecasted for earlier that day now raging outside. You sat yourself up on your tiny single bed, parting the curtains so you could look into the darkness outside. 

Sometimes, when you were sitting in the small room Chucho Peña had provided you after you had shown up on his ranch out of the blue, asking if he needed any help with the animals you asked yourself how your life had ended up like this.

In your mid thirties, divorced, without any money, working as a ranch hand (though you were more of a all around hand, mostly tasked with taking care of the house, food and garden).

Chucho had seen something in you and he had quickly become the father you never had. 

And then his son Javier had come home. 

It was instant, at least for you, the attraction you felt towards him. 

He was tall, dark and handsome and there was something in his eyes familiar to you. It was the same hurt you saw in yours every time you looked into the mirror. 

And it took a while for him to warm up to you, the past years he had spent in Colombia haunting his every thought.

Getting used to that strange woman that was now living in his childhood home, laughing with his father in the kitchen. 

The woman that was sleeping in the tiny guest bedroom next to his childhood bedroom that he lived in yet again, because he had not idea what to do with his life. 

The woman he fucked for the first time after a fourth of July celebration almost two years ago, fireworks going off while he was balls deep inside of you on the backseat of his truck in the parking lot of the already closed gas station he had stopped at on your way home. 

You hadn’t really stopped since then. 

For more than two years you had been sleeping with Javier whenever you both felt like it. 

But that was all it was. 

Sex. 

Because you both weren’t ready for more. Or to name these… feelings you had whenever you were in each other’s arms. 

Thunder outside made you jump on the bed and you grabbed one of Javier’s flannel shirts you had stolen the week before, pulling it over your naked body. 

You would tell him you were scared of thunder when he would wake up to you in his bed the next morning. 

Because you could not tell him that the only way you found yourself sleeping lately, was in his arms. 

Not yet.

He did not hear you as you opened the door, the heavy rain continuing to fall. 

You had looked for him in his room, finding the bed still made. But there was a light on in the kitchen so you followed you intuition, finding him outside. 

Javier was sitting in the far left corner of the porch, legs spread wide, a cigarette between his fingers, a tumbler of what would probably be whiskey in his other hand. 

He was only wearing some sweatpants, the very same sweatpants that would make you forget what you wanted to say mid sentence when he had them on, or more like what was hiding beneath them. 

You let the door fall shut behind you and he looked up, those dark brown eyes wandering up from your feet all over your body towards your eyes before he looked away again, bringing his cigarette back to his lips, inhaling the smoke deeply. 

You both just stared out, the rain seemingly getting heavier before you heard him set his glass down on the ground. He spread his legs wider and you bit your lip before you slowly walked over to him, stopping as you stood between his legs for only a moment, before you climbed into his lap, the hand that had been holding his glass moments ago, coming down to rest on your ass immediately, making you shiver. 

You reached for the cigarette between his lips, and he raised his eyebrows in confusion until you slipped it between yours so you could take a puff, his eyes softening in amusement. You felt his other hand slip under your shirt, his fingers brushing the underside of your tits. 

„Was wondering where this shirt went,“ he hummed and your lips twitched into a small smile as you took another puff of his cigarette before you threw it outside into the rain. He was about to complain when you crossed your arms behind his neck and brought you lips against his, his mouth opening against your as you exhaled the smoke from your lungs. 

Closing your eyes as he kissed you, you brought one hand up to slip through his hair while his hands both now rested on your ass, his fingers digging into your skin as he pulled you closer against him, his hips thrusting up against yours, his cock hardening beneath you. 

He spread your cheeks before one of his hands slipped further down and you felt him chuckle against you.

„No panties and a half buttoned shirt. What a little slut you are,“ he said, his voice hoarse and you gasped when you felt two of his fingers enter you, your slick coating your his fingers as he played with you. 

„Says Mr. No shirt and no boxers, sitting outside with his legs spread like a who…. Fuck Javi right there,“ you moaned, biting your lip as he moved his fingers inside of you.

„Right there?“ He asked with a smirk and you nodded, looking down at him as you arched your back. 

„Touched myself but couldn’t… fuck… couldn’t finish. Needed, needed…“ you whimpered.

„Your pussy needed me, huh?“ He teased and you whined. 

He made quick work of the few buttons that kept his shirt on you, his lips closing around one of your nipples, as soon as he had slipped his shirt down your shoulders, revealing your naked chest to him. 

„Javi… Please…“ you moaned, one of your hands on his shoulders, holding on while your other hand was still in his hair, now pulling him against your tits as he sucked on one of them. 

„What do you need, princess?“ He mumbled. 

„Need your cock. Wanna cum on your cock. Please,“ you begged and you felt his teeth pull at you nipple, making you hiss before he let go. His dark eyes looked up at you, before his fingers pulled out of you and he pushed his sweatpants down just so he could release his cock. 

Before he could do anything you had him lined up with you and slowly sank down on him, both of you releasing a long moan. 

Lightening made you jump before you sank down on his cock completely and Javier hissed, his arms coming around you to pull you closer, both of you breathing heavily before you both laughed. 

„Maybe we should take this inside,“ he said as he looked up at you, one of his hands brushing up and down your spine. You shook your head before you brushed your lips against his. 

„No. I want you just like this,“ you whispered against his lips before you began to move your hips. He hummed, his hand now on the back of your head, pulling you against his lips so he could deepen the kiss, his tongue slipping between your lips to part them. 

You rode him slowly. 

One arm wrapped around his shoulders while your other hand rested on his chest. 

Javi’s hand was on your ass, guiding the way you moved on top of him while his lips kissed whatever part of your skin he could reach. 

The rain and the fact that you were out in the open were forgotten as he began to meet your hips, thrusting up into you. You wrapped both of your arms around him, moving on top of him so you could ride him deeper, your chest now in perfect height so he could suck on your tits. 

„Oh fuck Javi,“ you moaned and he slapped your ass, fucking up into you, meeting your hips in audible smacks every time you skin collided. 

You could feel the familiar tingles of your orgasm approaching. 

„I’m close,“ he warned and you whimpered. 

„Me too,“ you gasped, crying out when he bit into the soft flesh over your right nipple, marking you yet again. 

„Cum for me,“ he grunted and you looked down at him. 

„Cum for me so I can take you inside and have you sit on my face until you pass out,“ he continued and you let him take over, letting him fuck into you in quick hard thrusts as you orgasm took over, making you shake against him your fingers digging into his skin on his broad back as you held on to him. 

„Such a good slut for me,“ he praised you, now chasing his own high, fucking into you a couple more times until you felt him spill himself inside of you, your name a deep rumble against you neck as he hugged you against his body. 

You stayed just like this for a moment. In each others arms, out of breath, the rain still coming down heavy just outside the porch. 

It was when he felt you shiver that you both came out of your post orgasm bliss. He pulled his shirt that you somehow still were half wearing back up over your shoulders, kissing you softly, a tired smile on his lips. 

„We should get inside,“ he hummed against your lips. You nodded, yet none of you moved, being content just like this, close, in each others arms, deep in the night when nobody was awake to see you like this. 

You could feel him drip of of you, his softening cock still inside of you. 

„Javi?“ You asked, your head resting against his shoulder. 

„Hm?“ He kissed your temple. 

„Can I sleep in your bed tonight?“ You whispered. He was quiet for a moment and you were about to get up from him when his arms around you tightened and you looked at him. 

„I… I suck at this,“ he sighed and you tilted your head. 

„Suck at what?“

„Relationships,“ he mumbled and your eyes softened. 

„Is that what this is?“ You asked quietly and his eyes were big and he looked so so scared. 

„It could be, if you want that,“ he finally said and you smiled. You reached one hand up so you could touch his cheek before you leaned in and kissed him softly. 

„I do want that,“ you mumbled and you felt him smile against your lips.

„Yeah?“ Javi asked and you nodded. 

„Good, cause I am not letting you go ever,“ he whispered, before kissed you again. 

[ceilidho]

prompt: reader is a large animal vet making a house call to a certain ex-SAS member's ranch.

-

It’s the first time you’ve been called out to this ranch. 

You’ve been to some others in the surrounding area—just last week you stopped by a ranch just half an hour away—but never this one. It’s far out of the way, almost tough to find—you miss the turnoff twice, each time forced to turn back around and squint to find the poorly marked dirt road leading to the ranch. Your shoulders only unclench when the ranch house finally crests over the horizon and you spot the horses milling around in the fenced-off enclosure. 

They must have had an in-house vet prior to calling you out. None of your colleagues remember ever visiting and the ranch is big enough to necessitate one. It sprawls across the landscape, acres upon acres. The kind of ranch that deals in thoroughbreds, horses that go on to graded stakes races. In the pen already, you can pick out Thoroughbreds and American Warmblood, the distinctive spotting of an Appaloosa, even a couple Hanoverians. 

There are men working around the ranch outside of the main enclosure that you park just a dozen or so yards away from, but something about the man standing by his lonesome with the horses makes you pause. 

A head taller than the rest, and built like a redwood. Bandana affixed around the lower half of his face, almost bandit-like. You shake those thoughts out of your head. You’re not here to pass judgement on people; you’re here for the horses. Whatever scars mar his face are hardly your concern (still, rugged, you think, a bit breathless even sitting in the front seat of your truck). 

When he turns in your direction, eyes locked on your truck and then locked on you when you pop into the back to grab your bag, your back straightens. Imperceptibly, yet still. Compelled to measure up somehow, to whatever standard he expects.

He strikes you as the man in charge. “Mister Riley?” you call out, shielding your eyes from the sun. 

He beckons you over with a gloved hand. Even from the distance, he leaves you unsure of yourself, quick to stumble when his stare starts to burn. 

“Doc,” Riley greets you when you’re close enough, and you fight back a shiver. His voice rumbles like thunder, like hooves pounding into the freshly tamped earth, into the dirt. 

“You called about a pregnant mare,” you remind him. 

The bag in front of your legs puts a bit of distance between the two of you, a needed buffer. Up close, he towers like sequoia, in fact, sleeves rolled up past his forearms, old tattoos on his left arm faded like beaten leather. He holds out a hand though, forcing you to take a step forward out of politeness and shake it. Your lips tighten at the touch of his skin. It’s weathered too, coarse palms and fingertips; there’s dirt caked around his nail beds, the kind that never comes out, the world’s indelible mark on the skin. 

He stares at you for a moment without speaking. There’s no helping the way you squirm under his gaze.

“The horse,” you remind him, cheeks hot.

“She’s in the stables; I’ll bring ya to her.”

You struggle to keep up with him, bag bumping against your leg as you haul ass after him. Big as he is, he moves quickly, fast on his feet—used to quick beasts, you know, probably used to anticipating their movements, always one step ahead. Your last shred of decency keeps you from staring at his ass the entire walk to the stables. 

Her coat is a rich coal colour, mane sun-bleached. Inky eyes peer back at you when Riley lets you into her stall. It’s cooler inside somehow, out of the inescapable glare of the sun; the sweat on the back of your neck stays wet under Riley’s eyes though, nervous rather than weather-born. 

She’s gorgeous though, the mare. Pretty as can be. Heavily pregnant too, you can see. Obviously well taken care of too, still decently muscled like she’s still been taken for walks and rides during her pregnancy. 

“She’s too far along now to ride,” he tells you when you remark on that, his voice carrying in the confined space. He doesn’t raise his voice, but it makes you perk up again, at attention, head whipping over your shoulder to look at him. 

“I can tell. A little over two months ‘till she delivers,” you say with a nod, looking down at the chart you have on her. “I can come back for her last deworming before she foals, if you want.”

He grunts, doesn’t answer. You take it as an affirmative. 

It doesn’t take you long to run through her check-up. A docile girl, you coo when she lets you touch her without any sign of aggression, sweet-tempered thing. It’s second nature after all, at this point in your life. 

Still, you find yourself watching Riley out of the corner of your eye, careful under his watchful gaze. Not that you usually aren’t, but still. Your movements feel intentional, precise. 

When he walks you out, you get a bit bolder in the sunlight. Freer to pester him with questions. 

“Did your last vet retire or something?” you ask, fishing for information. It’s probably none of your business, but you find yourself curious anyway. There are a few different vet practices operating in the area, so it’s always helpful to know who’s going to your competitors. 

He shakes his head. “Friend of mine went to school for this—been with me as long as I’ve had the ranch. He got hitched a couple weeks ago though.”

“Moving away?” you guess.

“Opening up a practice,” he corrects, making you frown. That’s worse, at least for you. “On his honeymoon this month though, so he gave me your name.”

“My boss’ name, you mean.”

“That’s right,” he says, and you realize that he’s walked you all the way to your car, half-pinning you to the door of your truck. Just close enough that a new layer of sweat breaks out on the back of your neck. You have to crane your neck to meet his eyes. “Don’t know if I caught yours, little filly.”

Now that makes you stutter over your name, confidence finally failing you. When he hums like he’s caught your name in his head now, mapped it to you with his sharp eyes, you feel yourself swallow reflexively. 

“Not like you’ll need it for long,” you tease, trying to gain back some semblance of control. “Just until your friend gets back and sets up his practice, at least.”

“Not sure about that. Might find some use for you yet,” Riley says, close enough now that you can tell he smells of hay and silage, peppery when you breathe in too heavily. 

And you breathe too heavily. Hard not to when he crowds you up against the truck, hand laying flat on the roof, boxing you in. You wonder if any of the ranch hands are looking over at the two of you, curious. 

“What do you mean?” you ask, head empty. Mouth dry enough now that it hurts a bit to swallow. 

His brown eyes glint in the sun. Honey gold under the light. “I can think of a few reasons to keep you around.”

[duhnova]

Cry-Baby | Choi Seungcheol

synopsis. decked out in leather and riding a harley davidson like he’s got business with the devil, choi seungcheol was the talk of your small town. everyone looked down on him and when you come home for the first time since starting uni you find it hard to believe that the pouty lipped kid you tossed off the merry-go-round when you were six was some slick haired delinquent. 

pairing. biker!choi seungcheol x fem!reader 

word count: 4.9k

genre. fluff, angst, opposites attract, drama?, kind of college au

warning(s): mentions of parent death, mentions of parent illness, alcohol, let me know if i forgot anything!

this is apart of a 90's collab! you should check out everyone elses fics! - there might be a smutty & more angsty part 2 to this if there’s enough interest! also huge shoutout to @onlyhuis and @onlymingyus for proofreading for me, ily guys <3

When you left for university three years ago you never wanted to return home, the small town always made you feel claustrophobic. But now you’re sitting on a train, about an hour away from your childhood, the sony walkman you got as a graduation present from high school sat in your lap as you listened to the same nirvana cassette on repeat. 

The nerves of being home began to get to you as the familiar views of the old trailer park that sat outside your town came into view. An old pickup truck that adorns the same white and blue paint of your best friend's truck drives down the road that travels along the train tracks and it makes you wonder if it’s him coming to meet you at the station.  

“We’ll be arriving at the station within the next five minutes.” The worker smiled at you as she continued down the aisle of seats to tell the other patrons of the cart that the train will be stopping for a couple minutes at your stop before embarking to the next station. 

You put your walkman in your pocket so that you aren’t scrambling to gather your things when the train stops. Just as you got your backpack situated the train jolted a little as its breaks screech to a stop. 

“Ladies and gentlemen we have reached our next stop.” The worker's voice is drowned out by your music as you stand up and grab your suitcase before hopping out the door with the worker's help in lifting your bag down. 

“Thank you!” You call out and wave as the door closes and the train takes off again, no one else got on or off. 

“Y/N!” You hear a familiar voice call from behind you, the roar of a diesel engine brings a certain comfort to you that you haven’t felt since you left. 

“Gyu!” You call out with a smile on your face, the change in his appearance being more shocking in person than you thought it would be, having only seen him in pictures he sent from the crappy disposable cameras he and his friends like to use. All the work he’s been doing on his family's ranch has paid off as his muscles glisten with dirt and sweat. 

“I’ve missed you cherry pop.” He hugs you tightly as you laugh at the nickname he gave you years ago because you always had cherry lollipops on you. 

“I’ve.. missed you too.” You choke between laughs and the way he was squeezing you a little too tightly. 

“Sorry,” He laughs as he lets you go to grab your suitcase instead. “Are you hungry? It was a long travel day for you.” 

“I could eat.” You smile as you take your headphones off to let them rest around your neck as you follow your best friend to his truck that was still running and emitting a gross smell of diesel. 

“Great, let’s go to pops diner.” He lifts your suitcase over the side of the truck bed like it was nothing before he opens the door for you to get in. The leather of his seats were warm from his heater that left the cabin toasty unlike the train car you had been sitting in almost all day. 

“How are you?” You ask about the owner of the diner who was well into his 70’s at this point, his restaurant having been open for almost five decades at this point.

“He’s doing good, got his hip replaced last summer,” Mingyu shifts the car into drive after he reversed out of the spot he parked at. “Still kickin, Cheols mom still works there too.” The mention of your old childhood playmate makes you smile bittersweetly. The last time you two had talked was before you left for college and he seemed angry about everything in life and he took it out on you leaving a sour taste in your mouth and the lack of communication between the two of you over the past few years.  

“That’s nice, how is she doing? I remember last you told me she was in the hospital for something.” Mingyu sighs a little from beside you.

“Yeah she was, took me forever to get anything out of Cheol about it but she’s doing good now. Or so I’ve been told.” Seungcheol had always been hard headed and he’d rather talk about other people's problems than his own so it didn’t surprise you that Mingyu had to dig for some type of answer from him. 

“Is she working today? I’d love to see her…” Your voice trailed off as you thought about the lady’s son, who you desperately wanted to see as well but how you left things made you hesitant.

“Not today, she’s off for the weekend.” You nod, mumbling that it’s nice that she takes the weekend for herself. 

“I know you and Cheol had some blowout when you left but I’m going to see him later after I drop you off, if you wanna come with you’re more than welcome too.”

“What’re you two doing?” Mingyu was surprised you didn’t immediately shoot down his offer, he thought it would take more convincing.

“We’re going to the river for a bonfire with Jeonghan and Wonwoo.”

“They’re home too?” They had both left for college around the same time you had.

“Yeah, they come home every break they can.. Unlike someone I know.” He laughs lightheartedly. You huff quietly, unsure of how to respond. How do you respond anyways? You never wanted to come back, memories weighed heavy on your heart and the only thing keeping you to your hometown was the friends that resided in it.

“Hey,” Mingyu's voice softens. “I get it, you got out when you saw the chance and I’m proud of you.” 

“Thank you.” Your voice was just as soft as you watched the familiar scenery zip by. A nice silence fell between the two of you as he focused on driving, the train station sitting a couple miles out from the town you used to live in. 

“The bank sold the house by the way.” Mingyu broke the silence, a nervous sweat settled on his forehead as he broke the news to you. 

“About time.” You sigh, another weight you didn’t realize you were holding lifted off your shoulders. “Less for me to deal with now.” 

“You’re not upset?” Mingyu looks at you out of the corner of his eye. 

“No,” You sit up straighter and begin picking at the hem of your jacket. “My father was a drunk with thousands of dollars of debt he owed the bank so I’m not even surprised they sold it to make back what they lost and then some I’m sure.” 

“At least an actual family bought it instead of some corporation.” Mingyu tried to lighten the mood. “They just moved in and they have a newborn and a cute dog that I think you’d like.” 

“What kind of dog is it?” You side eye Mingyu, appreciative of the fact he moved on from the sensitive topic so quickly. 

“A corgi, they said it’s a black tricolor… Whatever that means.”

“It’s the fur color, it’s mainly black with a little bit of brown and white?”

“Yes! See this is why you went to college, you’re smart as hell.” You shake your head with a smile on your face. 

“You’re smart too, Gyu, and not going to college doesn’t affect that.” He shrugs as he slows his speed down after approaching the edge of town. 

“If you say so cherry pop.” Just as he pulled up to the first stoplight the roar of a loud engine could be heard from a distance. 

“I bet that’s Cheol.” You look at Mingyu confused before your question gets lost once you see the helmet less Seungcheol sped by on a motorcycle you had never seen before, his once dark hair was bleached blonde.

“That’s Cheol?” You asked as you watched him disappear down the opposite street you and Mingyu turned down. 

“Yeah, he changed quite a bit since you left.” That was an understatement as Seungcheol looked as big as Mingyu, maybe bigger if you dared to think.

“I can see that, can’t believe he bleached his hair.” 

“He did that pretty recently actually, said he needed a change and decided the worst that could happen is his hair would fall out.” 

“He’d look good with a buzz cut.” Mingyu laughs at the thought causing you to laugh too. 

“You should tell him that tonight when we hang out, I guarantee he’ll either blow a gasket or take you seriously and actually cut his hair off.” 

“He would drown me in the river first before he’d listen to me.” 

“I don’t know cherry pop, you were very influential to him for a long time. Remember how he did your bidding all throughout elementary school?” 

“Yeah cause I tossed him off the merry-go-round at recess and he decided he was scared of me until junior high.” 

“I think we were all scared of you after that,” Mingyu puts the car in park after pulling up to the diner. “The older kids wouldn’t mess with me either because you scared them too.” The fact Mingyu is younger than you by two years makes you question reality as he’s much bigger then you now and has been since junior high. 

“Still wild to think about.” You laugh as Mingyu hops out the truck to run over and open the door for you, he’s never allowed you to open your own door since he started driving. 

“Oh, I guess Cheol’s mom is working today.” Mingyu closes the door behind you and puts the key in the handle to lock it as he stares at the familiar woman through the window that was taking someone’s order. “Someone must’ve called out of work today.” 

The two of you walk to the front door together, making small talk about anything and everything. Seungcheol’s mother greeted the two of you with a smile and handed you two menus once you sat down. 

“It’s good to see you sweetheart.” She smiles widely at you, she was always like a second mother to you growing up especially after you mothers untimely passing. 

“It’s good to see you too, you look great.” You smile warmly, despite any animosity you might feel for her son right now you will never be able to hate this woman. 

“I’ll start you two off with some water?” You both nod, prompting her to walk away. 

“So how’s the ranch?” You scan the menu, already knowing what you want but wanting to check to see if anything new was added. 

“It’s good, Cheol doesn’t work there anymore.” Mingyu doesn’t look up from his menu to see your surprised expression. “Mr. Johnson offered him a job as a mechanic after seeing the work he would do on the farm equipment.” 

“Mechanics suit him.” You smile at his mother when she comes back with your waters. 

“Do you two know what you want?” You both nod, letting Mingyu order first despite the look he gave you after you shrug and take a big gulp of your water. “Are you getting your usual sweetheart?” She turns to you.

“How do you remember what I used to order?” Your eyes widen.

“You’d order the same thing almost every time you’d come here since you were a kid and I’ve been working here longer than you’ve been alive so I have it practically engraved into my memory.” She laughs quietly as she takes your menus. “You and my son are the same in your consistency in ordering the same thing.” 

“Oh.” You could feel your face heating up at the thought. You’re happy she didn’t bother to push a conversation as she went to help more people that came in. 

“You and Cheol are as opposite as opposite can be.” 

“You don’t say.” You roll your eyes playfully. 

The banter between you and Mingyu continued on, even after your food came you both found something to poke — and trust me there was a lot to poke at that has happened over the past three years that couldn’t be conveyed over letters and the occasional call here and there. 

“We should head out now, get you to the ranch so you can clean up and rest before tonight.” Mingyu paid for your guy's food like the gentleman he is and held the door open for you as you walked out into the warm summer air. 

“Am I obligated to go swimming tonight?” Mingyu shakes his head. 

“You’re not but we’ll all be swimming so,” He hops into the truck after opening the door for you. “Just to be safe you might wanna wear your swimsuit.” 

“Got it.” You nod your head before watching out the window again, committing your old hometown to memory again. The drive to the ranch was peaceful and long, sitting a few miles out of town on the opposite side of where the diner was. 

Once you got to Mingyu's house and greeted his family and caught up, you went to the spare room upstairs to unload your bags and lay on the bed to unwind. A quick nap was sure to help the oncoming headache you got so after changing your clothes to be a little more comfortable you crawl under the freshly cleaned blanket and almost instantly knock out. 

A couple hours pass by before Mingyu is knocking on the door to wake you up, telling you the guys are heading to the river now and that you two need to get going soon.

Groaning quietly as you sit up in bed and stretch, it felt nice to not have to worry about anything as this is the first summer you decided to not take summer classes as you'd be graduating early after this upcoming fall semester. Getting up and taking your walkman out of your bag again you took out the nirvana cassette and put in green day instead, the music more uplifting and giving you an ounce of energy to put your swimsuit on and a pair of shorts and jacket to cover yourself. 

“How was your nap dear?” Mingyu's mother greeted you as you walked down the stairs, your friend standing by the door waiting (im)patiently for you. 

“Amazing, sitting all day in those train seats takes a toll on your back.” You take your walkman headphones off and half hazardously shove them into your jacket pocket. 

“Tell me about it, I can’t sit for too long now without going stiff.” She smiles warmly as she wishes you two well as you b-line to the door after Mingyu told you to hurry up. 

 “Couldn’t even give me time to say bye.” You grumble as you shuffle up to the truck where Mingyu was holding the door for you. 

“Sorry cherry pop, the guys are waiting for us and we still gotta get drinks.” 

“Why are we getting the drinks?” You buckle up and put your headphones back on, both of your tastes in music are dramatically different as he puts in a country cassette into the radio. 

“You’re home, they want you to get what you want instead of drinking what they like.” 

“They still drink that shitty dollar beer right?” Mingyu nods. “Then we drink the same thing, not much has changed as I still couldn’t afford the expensive stuff being at college.” 

“Great, that makes this run cheap.” The ride to the corner store was quick, the street lights lining the road leading from the ranch to town making the trees look ominous. 

Once you guys had secured the alcohol you made your way to the river. The long body of water stretched for miles outside of town in both directions, and the one spot you guys have always met up at since junior high was hidden away. You had thick bushes to climb through and poison ivy to look out for as it wasn’t a regular site on the river to be at. 

“Mingyu! Y/N!” Jeonghan called happily when he saw the two of you emerge from the bushes. The bonfire was already large and roaring while Cheol and Wonwoo were already in the water swimming. 

“Hannie!” You smile and hug him happily, he was always the least affectionate person so when he offered you a hug you always took it. 

“How have you been? It’s been years!” He pulls away from the hug to greet Mingyu while sitting down in his chair and pats the one next to him that looked to have been occupied by Seungcheol at one point based on the jacket hanging on it. 

“I’ve been good, college has been tough but I'm graduating a semester early.” You smile at Mingyu who hands you a beer before he sets the box down and makes quick work to strip down to his swim trunks so he can join the other two in the water. “How have you been?” 

“I’ve been great, graduating a semester later than I should've, but I took a light load last semester because I was back and forth to be here for Cheol while his mom was in the hospital.” you nod your head while taking a drink of your beer. You never realized that his mom being in the hospital was that bad. 

“Mingyu didn’t tell me much about her being in the hospital so I didn’t realize it was that bad.” You look out at the three guys who are currently climbing the rock in the middle of the river so they can jump into the water.

“He wanted to write to you, ever since you left it’s all he had been beside himself about but when his mother got sick he wanted to write to you even more.” Jeonghans voice was soft, nervous that the said male would hear your two's conversation and start hounding him for spilling the secret. 

“I wanted to write him too, but-“

“But you couldn’t, I’m not as hard headed as Seungcheol so I get why but I don’t get why you couldn’t have let him down sooner.” You sigh, this was a conversation you knew you’d have eventually as Jeonghan was Seungcheols best friend outside of you and he was the only one that knew about you two. 

“I wanted to, believe me it was never my plan to break things off the day I was leaving but I was selfish and didn’t want to let him go yet.”

“You are selfish,” You laugh quietly, thanking him. “But he’s selfish too, this town holds too many bad memories for you and he wanted to tie you to it when you finally had the chance to escape it.”

“You know, I asked him to come with me.” You took another sip of your beer, your eyes back on the blonde who seemed to feel you staring as he tilted his head back and gave you a bitter smirk. “When I first got the acceptance letter and I was on the fence about going, he wanted me to go but he also wanted me to stay and so I told him to come with me so I didn’t have to choose.”

“He never told me that.” Jeonghan opens up another beer and gingerly takes a sip of it. 

“I’m not surprised, I think he thought it was a joke.” You finally tear your eyes off of Seungcheol to look at Jeonghan. “After that I didn’t tell him I committed and just continued to relish our time together.”

“Y’know, he wanted you to go because this was your dream but he wanted to be a part of that dream and you keeping that from him and then cutting ties with him when you left is what broke him.” 

“I didn’t mean to.” You mumbled and looked down at your half empty beer can. “He was the one that told me that if I wasn’t willing to make things work then he didn’t want to hear from me.”

“Well he’s dumb,” Jeonghan takes another sip. “But so are you.”

“I know.” You close your eyes and sigh, letting your head lull back on the chair. 

“Are you going to talk to him while you’re home? It is the first time you’ve been home since leaving after all.” 

“This isn’t my home anymore.” You don’t bother to open your eyes as you take in the warm night air. This hasn’t been your home since you left and it hasn’t felt like home for far longer, the only thing (or person) that made you feel remotely anchored here was Seungcheol. 

“It was your home at one point, and I'd argue it still is because Seungcheol and the rest of us are here.” 

“Corny loser.” You mumble, a small smile cracking at your lips before you sit up straight. “I’ll talk to him, I promise. I had been prepping myself all week to mend things between us while I was here.” 

“Good.” Jeonghan smiles and downs the rest of his beer. “Now hurry up and finish drinking so we can go join them in the water before it gets colder.” 

“You’re going to die in that water, it’s too cold for you already.” You laugh before downing the rest of your beer so you can strip down to your swimsuit, making sure not to toss your walkman around too much. 

“I’ll manage.” He shrugs after taking his clothes off too before walking cautiously up to the edge of the water. He barely touches it with his big toe and he curses. 

“Told you,” You stand beside him and watch his reaction. “You just gotta go in as quick as you can.” You show him how it’s done as you take a deep breath in and hold it as you quickly walk into the water before you’re deep enough to dive under. 

“Show off.” He huffs before he follows in your footsteps, cursing the whole way up to his shoulders. 

“You did it han,” Wonwoo pats him on the shoulder. “You’re shivering already.” 

“It’s fucking cold and you’re all insane.” He huffs and starts to swim around a little, letting the cold water soothe his warm skin. 

“I think it feels good.” You had popped back up next to Mingyu who was standing with Seungcheol who was watching Jeonghan worried. 

“It does feel good.” Mingyu lets the water support his body as he starts to swim backwards, no longer being a wall between you and the ire of your freshman year of college. 

“It’s good to see you Y/N.” Wonwoo gives you a small smile before he also swims away, leaving you and Seungcheol alone and seeing the look on Jeonghan's face in the distance makes you believe that this was planned. He clears his throat when he seems to realize you two are alone.

“Um,” Is all he manages to say before you’re taking a deep breath and turning to look at him. 

“Hi Seungcheol.” He flinches at the use of his full name.

“Ouch, hi litt-“ He catches himself using the old nickname he had for you. “Hi Y/N.”

“God I hate this.” You can’t be bothered to hide the fact that the whole situation makes you sad and angry already, you missed him and he was right there in front of you and you were both acting like you wanted nothing to do with each other, which might’ve been true right after you had left but as time went on it faded into longing and anger at oneself.

“You hate this? How do you think I feel?” He crosses his arms and looks down at you. 

“Cheol I-“

“I don’t want to hear excuses.”

“Ok asshole I was going to apologize but not anymore.” You roll your eyes and turn away from him so you could swim away, the conversation you had with Jeonghan felt like complete bullshit now. 

“Wait,” he grabbed your arm to spin you back around, the water splashing violently at the fast movement. “I’m sorry, for everything.” It was rare that he’d ever apologize and right now it felt out of place as he had no reason to apologize at the moment. 

“I practiced how this conversation would go for weeks and this was not one of the ways I accounted for. You weren’t supposed to apologize first.” You look up at Seungcheol who was just staring at you silently now, his hand still holding tightly on your arm. “Seungcheol I-“

“Stop calling me that.”

“Stop interrupting,” You huff, the smallest smile forming on his face “I’m sorry for how I left things and for everything leading up to when I left.” 

“Y’know, I spent most of the first year you were gone blaming you, and then I started blaming myself until my mother made me realize that neither of us were to blame and then I spent the remainder of the time just numb.”

“If you stopped blaming me, how come you didn’t write to me?”

“You never wrote to me.” He sounded hurt and you were hurt too but you hated the pain in his voice and it caused you to move closer to him, hoping you could erase even just a hint of it.

“I’m sorry, there was never a time where I didn’t think about writing to you but your words kept playing in my head about how you never wanted to hear from me if I left our relationship behind.”

“It wasn’t much of a relationship then was it, we were just friends exploring each other,” That’s what you liked to tell eachother when you were in denial about your feelings. “I wrote letters, most of them are stamped and sitting in my desk drawer because I couldn’t bring myself to send them.”

“Yet you bought stamps for them?” You raise an eyebrow curiously. 

“Yes,” He huffs, trying to hide the ounce of embarrassment he’s feeling. “I’d get these bouts of feelings where I’d want to send them and I’d get all the way to the post office with a stamp on the envelope and the second I’d park I’d back out and go back home only to hide it away with the others.” 

“Cheol…” 

“I know it’s probably stupid and I’ll just burn them all now since you’re home and-“

“I’m not staying,” You cut him off for some reason. “I mean I’m staying for the summer but I’m going back home to finish my last semester of college so I can get a job at a vet clinic there.” 

“That’s ok, this time I promise I will write.”

“You should come with me.” You blurt out like you did all those years ago.

“I can’t leave my mother, she won’t leave this town and with her health fluctuating I just can’t.” He gave you an actual answer this time unlike he did when you were younger. 

“I get it, she needs you.. But one day you have to leave this place, don’t you think?” Your hand gently touches his arm as you drift even closer to him. 

“I never thought of leaving until you left.” He mumbled as his hands moved to ghost over your sides that were under the water. 

“One day?” You sounded hopeful. “Even if we’re old and married to other people do you think you’d still leave?” 

“I..” His voice trailed off as your breath got closer to his face. “I’d never marry… unless it was you.” He whispered before he finally kissed you, the weight of what he said disappearing as you both got lost in the taste of each other. After what felt like an eternity you finally pulled away out of breath, a quiet whistle could be heard from behind Seungcheol somewhere and you assumed it had to be Jeonghan since Mingyu would’ve quite literally jumped the two of you. 

“Cheol- '' He cuts you off.

“Let's enjoy the night, yeah?” He didn’t want to talk about what he just said, or what the future would hold anymore. It’ll take time, you both realized, for things to go back to normal but for now you were content with how things were because this time he knew what to expect when summer ends, he just hoped that you’d change your mind about long distance relationships. And you hoped he’d change his mind about rotting away in this small town.

feedback + reblogs greatly appreciated! let me know what you guys thought!

[hurriane23456]

Stepping Into His Boots

Ethan had always been a city guy, but when James—the rugged cowboy who owned the ranch—asked him to house-sit, he couldn’t say no. There was something about James, older and confident, with a body shaped by years of hard work. He commanded attention without even trying, and Ethan found himself drawn to that power. Maybe a little too drawn.

The ranch was isolated, miles away from the nearest town. The first few days were peaceful, the kind of solitude Ethan thought he needed. But soon, being surrounded by James’s things—his clothes, his truck, his boots—began to mess with his head. James was everywhere, even when he wasn’t.

One evening, after watching the sun dip below the horizon, Ethan found himself wandering into James’s bedroom. He lingered by the closet, heart pounding in his chest. **It was wrong to even think about it**, but he couldn’t stop himself from opening the door. Inside, the familiar scent of leather and sweat hit him, sending a rush of adrenaline through his body. He hesitated for only a moment before stripping off his own clothes, leaving them in a messy heap on the floor.

His hands trembled as he reached for James’s black briefs, the soft cotton holding the faint scent of detergent and James’s musk. He slid them on, the fabric clinging tightly to his body, the sensation sending a shiver down his spine. The arousal he felt was immediate and undeniable. **He shouldn’t be doing this**, but it was too late to turn back now.

Next came a pair of James’s worn jeans. The rough denim scraped against his legs as he pulled them on, the weight settling around his hips. They fit a little loose but snug in all the right places. Each time he moved, he felt the denim press against his skin, heightening the sensation of stepping into someone else’s life.

He grabbed one of James’s denim shirts, the fabric rough under his fingers. As he buttoned it up, the familiar scent of sweat and leather enveloped him. It was like wearing James’s skin. The shirt hung a little loose, but it made him feel powerful, like he was James.

But something was still missing.

Ethan’s gaze drifted to the top shelf of the closet, where a mask was tucked away behind some boxes. He pulled it down, his breath catching in his throat when he realized what it was—**James’s face**, captured in uncanny detail. It was smooth, realistic, and eerily lifelike. Why would James have this? He hesitated, knowing this was a step too far. But the temptation was overwhelming.

With trembling hands, he lifted the mask to his face. The silicone was cool and soft as it molded to his skin. As he adjusted it, he looked in the mirror and gasped. **He didn’t look like Ethan anymore—he looked like James.**

The transformation was complete. From the snug fit of the briefs to the heavy cowboy boots on his feet, from the rough denim to the mask, Ethan had become James. He couldn’t help but smile at his reflection. **It was wrong, but it felt good.** Too good.

He had to see if he could pull it off in public.

With James’s truck keys in hand, Ethan headed out the door, his heart racing with a dangerous thrill. The drive into town was a blur of excitement and fear. What would people say? Would anyone notice?

When he parked the truck outside the local bar, Ethan took a deep breath. **This was the moment of truth.** He stepped out, adjusting the cowboy hat on his head, and walked confidently inside. The familiar hum of conversation and country music greeted him, but he felt like he was in a dream. Eyes glanced his way, but no one looked twice. A few men at the bar nodded at him, just like they did with James. **They believed it.**

Ethan walked to the bar, leaning against the counter. The bartender, a grizzled man with a thick beard, gave him a nod. “Evenin’, James,” he said, sliding a glass of whiskey across the bar.

Ethan’s heart nearly stopped, but he forced a casual smile. “Evenin’,” he replied, his voice steady despite the wild rush of adrenaline surging through him.

He took a sip of the whiskey, letting the burn calm his nerves. **He had done it. He was James, and no one knew.**

But after a few minutes, the excitement started to make him restless. His heart raced, and he felt hot under the mask, the tight press of it against his skin growing more uncomfortable. **He needed to take a breather**. With a quick glance around, he slipped off the barstool and made his way to the bathroom.

Inside the bathroom, he locked the door behind him and faced the mirror. He stared at his reflection—James’s face staring back. Slowly, he reached up and began peeling the mask off. The cool air hit his damp skin, and Ethan let out a sigh of relief as he pulled the mask free, wiping the sweat from his brow.

But just as he was about to catch his breath, the bathroom door opened. Ethan froze.

Standing in the doorway was a man—another regular, dressed in a flannel shirt, jeans, and cowboy boots. His eyes widened as he took in the sight before him—Ethan holding James’s face in his hands, the mask limp and unmistakable.

For a second, neither of them spoke. Then the man smirked.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” he drawled, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him.

Ethan’s heart pounded. **This was it. He was caught.** But the man didn’t seem angry. He seemed... amused.

“You were doin’ a good job out there, pretendin’ to be James,” the man said, his eyes glinting with mischief. “But looks like you’re havin’ some trouble keepin’ up the act. How ‘bout we make this more interestin’?”

Ethan blinked, confused. “What do you mean?”

The man grinned, a playful, almost challenging look crossing his face. “Let’s switch. You put on my clothes, and I’ll put on that mask of yours. Let’s see if we can fool ‘em together.”

Ethan’s breath caught. **Switch?** The idea was absurd, but the rush of adrenaline—and the possibility of getting away with it—was too tempting to resist.

“Fine,” Ethan said, his voice low, the thrill starting to take hold again.

They quickly stripped down, the small bathroom thick with the scent of sweat and anticipation. The man’s clothes were warm from his body as Ethan pulled them on—first the flannel shirt, rough but comfortable, the faint smell of cologne lingering in the fabric. Then the man’s jeans, snug around his hips, a little worn at the knees but perfectly broken in. They felt different from James’s—lighter, softer, more worn—but still foreign enough to make his heart race.

Meanwhile, the man slid on James’s mask, adjusting it with a knowing grin. “How do I look?” he asked, his voice muffled slightly as he adjusted the edges of the silicone.

Ethan stared, his pulse quickening. **The man looked exactly like James now.** It was uncanny. “Like him,” Ethan replied, his mouth dry.

They exchanged a look, both fully aware of the madness of what they were doing. But neither of them stopped. The switch was complete.

They walked back to the bar, side by side. The bartender gave them both a nod as they returned to their seats, none the wiser to the switch that had just happened. Ethan sat down, feeling a strange mixture of excitement and discomfort in the man’s clothes. The flannel shirt scratched against his skin in unfamiliar places, the jeans tighter than what he was used to. But it only added to the thrill.

They finished their drinks in silence, exchanging the occasional glance, the knowledge of their shared secret making the moment electric.

When they were done, the man—still wearing James’s face—tipped his hat to the bartender. “See ya ‘round,” he said, his voice eerily close to James’s now.

Ethan followed him out to the truck, their boots crunching against the gravel as they climbed inside. The drive back to the ranch was quiet, the air thick with tension. Neither of them spoke, but the unspoken understanding between them lingered.

Back at the ranch, they headed inside. Ethan’s heart pounded as they made their way back to James’s bedroom. **It was time to switch back.**

They stripped quickly, the man pulling off the mask and handing it back to Ethan. The silicone was still warm from the man’s skin. He grabbed James’s clothes, putting them on again, the familiar weight and scent wrapping around him like a second skin.

When the switch was complete, they stood in front of the mirror, Ethan back in James’s clothes and the man back in his flannel and jeans.

“Well,” the man said, a sly grin on his face, “that was somethin’.”

Ethan nodded, his heart still racing. **It had been more than something. It had been a thrill he’d never forget.** As the man tipped his hat and left, Ethan stood there, staring at his reflection in the mirror—James’s face staring back at him once again.

He had gone too far tonight. But the excitement, the danger... it had been worth every second.

[acrowandtheirshinies]

HSR + Genshin In - Date Ideas!

[ Including - Wanderer, Tighnari, Venti, Albedo, Boothill, Jing Yuan, Dan Heng ]

AU - Modern AU

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Tighnari -

Botanical Dates where he gets to hold your hand while yall walk through the gardens where a lot of plants grow with a lot of care, he takes some time to ramble about them to you during the walks.

He loves it when you're both just relaxing, maybe grabbing a snack or a drink and then going on to continue the walk to take a chance to relax during this entire date.

Sometimes he'll call to check in on Collei during the date but he likes to take pictures of you during the date to make into Polaroid pictures to hang up on the fridge or in a scrapbook to show on your wedding night :]

Venti -

Date nights to him are either both if you stay at home and order take out while watching a movie and getting mildly drunk or it's a walk in a park with a nice breeze

Either way there's a lot of memories to be made along the way! Sometimes some pictures are being taken and poses with the statues in the park but it's still a good time all around though

Movie nights are his favorite because usually it means you fall asleep on his shoulder or laying beside him on the couch so he can tuck you in with a blanket and call it a night, and honestly he values that the most. Just a night with you and him in the warmth of a home

Wanderer / Scaramouche -

Good luck getting him out on a date honestly but at the end of the day he can't ever say no to you, so you go out to the arcade for the preferred date place

He finds amusement in you losing to crane games, saying you need to get better at them if you want to ever win something at these events but once you leave the area then he does his hardest to win a prize for you

He acts so smug about it too but also you just know he's flustered too so you just accept the prizes and prepare to play more games, so in your eyes it's a date well spent with your partner

Albedo -

Museum dates for him, he loves guiding you through the halls and pointing out the little things in art and science while you both are walking through the halls honestly. It makes him so happy to see you're paying attention to him

You stop for a snack and you see him taking a picture of you for a reference for painting later to relax, he likes seeing you surprised honestly at the end of the day because he thinks you look perfect naturally

A lot more pictures gets taken but it's by you while the two of you are going through the museum sections, pictures of Albedo looking up at works of art and others things- you want to save them for a scrapbook

Boothill -

This man loves the markets and you cannot tell me otherwise, the stockyard markets are his favorite place to take you out on a date and to find little knick knacks to decorate the house with

He gets you you're own cowboy hat along the way and you get him a new scarf because the one he has now is old and needs to be washed desperately, and he wears it because it's a gift from you

You both take a picture at the end of the day to hang on the fridge though, right alongside other pictures of dates to the movies and to the ranch to visit the horses and animals

Dan Heng -

He loves taking you out to the park for dates, it's so peaceful there and he loves walking down the paths with you with a lil picnic basket being carried by you. It's a favorite for both of you because it's peaceful and a lil secluded so no interruptions by Dan Hengs found family and friends

Fall time especially means a lot to him for dates, it also gives him a chance to offer you his jacket if it gets chilly at times and the colors remind him of you- warm and comfortable.

He takes a picture of you walking down the paths with leaves falling because he wants to make it his wallpaper, a reminder of this time he has with you because it means the world to him

Jing Yuan -

Any place with you is a date to him as long as it's with you, so he let's you decide where you go because he knows he has the money to support whatever you choose to do

Movies? Whatever you want to go see. The park? Of course anything for you. The theatre? Absolutely he would love to go watch a show with you

But honestly his favorite has to be staying at home to watch a show and order food for you both and the lion he takes care of, it makes him feel content knowing you and him are well and safe inside the house you both made for each other. During the show he'd probably fall asleep on you, and then you both wake up like that- just sprawled on the couch with a warm blanket on both of you

╚═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╝

[bellarkeselection]

When Dutton's Marry, They Go Big

Request from wattpad mackleann - Kayce and the reader come back from their honeymoon and the bunkhouse crew talk about how amazing the wedding was ( huge wedding 😏 )

"There's nothing that says we have to go back today. We could just stay out here." Kayce had his arms wrapped around me from behind while I was trying to put my shirt on.

Kayce and I had recently got married a few weeks ago. And we had been spending our honeymoon here at the Dutton Summer Camp. I giggled trying to not cave into his embrace when he kissed my neck. “Kayce, we have to go back to work.”

“Your mother doesn’t need you for another week right?” He mumbled into my neck until I spun around in his arms.

My mother Lynelle Perry was going to be stepping down and leaving Montana in the coming weeks since she got a higher job in government. Kayce’s father John was taking over her position as governor of the state. “No, she's busy helping your father. But I want to spend time with her before she leaves.”

“One more day won’t hurt anybody, darling.” Kayce leaned down, capturing my lips deeply.

I squealed when he got the chance to pick me up by my thighs and I wrapped my legs around his waist. “Kayce!” He carried me over to the edge of the bed sitting me down on it where we both fell backwards on the mattress.

“By the way you're looking at me right now I can tell that you’re not complaining too much.” Kayce smirked down at me only wearing some blue jeans and his boots that he kicked off.

Running my hands up his chest I wrapped my hands down his neck drawing him in for another long round of the morning. “Who I am kidding you’re hard to resist, Dutton.”

“So are you Mrs. Dutton.” He mumbled in between kisses and we laid in the bedsheets together till the next morning when we had to get back to the ranch.

Kayce drove the truck up underneath the Yellowstone Dutton ranch sign. We parked outside the main house where I turned in my seat facing him. “You know we could always hide out in the bunkhouse till the cowboys are done with work for the day.” A smirk was playing off my lips.

“I like the way you think, baby.” He smiled hoping out of his seat and I scrambled to get my door open. Kayce scopped me up before my feet could even hit the ground, carrying me to the bunkhouse door.

I giggled, wrapping my arms around his neck and he kicked the door opened. He sat me down on the nearest bed beginning to remove my shirt until someone else's voice entered the building. “You two look just like you did the day you got married.”

“Ryan! What the hell are you doing here?” Kayce broke the kiss, breaking the kiss that we was sharing seeing the cowboy standing at the edge of the bed.

Ryan raised a brow. “I should be asking, are you going to sleep on my bed right now?”

“Oh god! We didn’t mean for that to happen.” Covering my face with my hands I groaned feeling somewhat embarrassed at the very thought of what we we’re about to do before he walked in. “Wait what did you mean we are just like how we were on our wedding day?”

Ryan chuckled with a smile. “Your wedding was huge and I don’t mean it’s just because of who your mother is. But I also mean weddings and other big events don’t really happen here.”

“Ryan, Rip says we have to move more cattle across the ranch before Gator starts dinner. What….what are you talking to these two about?” Colby enters the barn seeing the three of us talking.

Ryan turns toward his fellow cowboy working. “I was talking about their wedding.”

“Ah yeah. I remember that day. That was the biggest amount of people I had ever seen here before. And the food spread was insane.” Colby throws his head back, running his fingers through his black curly locks.

Thinking back on my wedding day I smiled at the memory. Kayce had been dressed in a light white dress shirt, black tie and his only pair of not dirty blue jeans and some boots. I was wearing my dress obviously that had lace all over the train. I had put some of my hair up with a flower crown braid leaving the rest of it down going down my back. Paring it with my light tan cowgirl boots instead of heels. “I didn’t think you guys were so focused on our wedding. We weren’t even that focused on the details after we got to the ceremony and said the words "I Do.”

“Okay we’ll y’all should get out of here before Rip comes and kick your asses or better yet I’ll kick your asses if you tell anyone else we are back yet.” Kayce threatened sitting down on the bed beside me glaring at the two cowboys who were still standing in the bunkhouse doorway.

Ryan raised his hand up in the air. “Chill out man. We’re going.”

“Who knew married Dutton’s could be more demanding than they already were before.” Colby mumbled exiting the bunkhouse with his fellow cowboy.

Kayce ran a hand through his hair looking back at me. “Are you reconsidering coming back home early like I knew I would?”

“Possibly….do ya think we could sneak back to the truck without them noticing?” I asked him, grabbing his discarded cowboy hat up from the dirty floor putting it on my head after dusting it off.

Kayce smirked the same expression as me. He moved forward, capturing his lips with mine. “You are a genius. But we could just drive back to the Summer Camp for a few more days.”

“Fine Mr. Dutton you win.” I caved knowing he wouldn't leave me alone until I agreed. We grabbed our jackets and ran as fast as possible to his truck in the driveway. I knew the day I said yes I was in for one hell of a ride changing my last name to Dutton and I wouldn't change one thing.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[gothcsz]

Imperfect For You | Javier Peña x Fem!Reader | ~10k wc | Part 4 of the Fantasize series | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: The night Javier proposes.

Tags: established relationship, semi-public sex, jealous!javi, but also sweet nervous javi that might be a little ooc but irdgaf, oral (f&m receiving), a smidge of degradation, light breath play, dirty talk, unprotected p in v sex (practice safe sex pls), facial, pwp, porn with feelings, some physical descriptions but overall it's pretty vague, javier can pick reader up, no use of Y/N, reader is a badass photojournalist, reader speaks spanish, other shit i’m probably forgetting.

A/N: did not expect to write another part in this world so fast, but the idea for it came to me in a dream and my mind kinda just took it from there, lol. i hope you guys like it, pls feel free to come bother me about this, okay?! in the wise words of queen bey: i'm swerving on that, swerving, swerving on that big body been servin' all this swerve, surfin' all in this good-good 😋🙂‍↕️

DIVIDERS CREDIT: saradika

Navigating your relationship with Javier stateside was definitely an experience.

When the highs hit, they were nothing short of breathtaking.

That summer was a whirlwind of sweet moments. You spent your days with him and his dad on their family ranch, immersing yourself in the rustic life— learning about the animals, how to care for them, and getting your hands dirty in a way that was surprisingly fulfilling.

Nights were filled with fun adventures, like hitting up those grimy dive bars Javier loved so much, only to find yourselves tangled up in the back of his pickup in some dusty parking lot.

There were times that felt straight out of a fairytale—picnics in sun-drenched fields, soft, sleepy sex in his childhood bedroom followed by breakfast in bed with the morning light streaming in.

But as the summer drew to a close, reality set in. Javier decided to stay in Texas to help his pops with the ranch, while you had to move to New York for work.

It made sense, but that didn’t make it any easier.

Saying goodbye was like tearing a piece of your heart out. Your relationship, still so fresh, was suddenly thrust into the challenges of long-distance, and that brought its own set of struggles.

The lows were devastatingly low.

At first, it was really hard, and you feared that the thrill of your kinky and dramatic beginnings had worn off, exposing you both to the harsh realities of dating.

You started seeing sides of each other that had remained hidden until they weren’t.

Javier’s hot-headedness and tendency to react without thinking, your own habit of micromanaging and being passive aggressive— these flaws clashed in ways that neither of you had anticipated.

Javier, who had never been good at relationships to begin with, struggled to navigate this terrain all over again, while you, having not been in a serious relationship since your freshman year of undergrad, found yourself unsure of how to handle the rough patches.

These were challenges you hadn’t faced since you didn’t really have the time to. 

He was preoccupied with taking down dangerous drug traffickers and you were caught up in the whirlwind of keeping up with him.

It made you wonder if the idea of you two only ever really existed in Colombia.

The distance didn’t help matters. Seeing each other so rarely made the relationship feel strained, like you were constantly trying to hold onto something that was constantly slipping through your fingers.

You tried to convince him to move to the city with you, but every time the topic came up, it ended the same way— with you in tears and him abruptly hanging up.

“I can’t just leave him here to run this place by himself. He’s not getting any younger.” “He has other ranch hands, Javi. You said you’d try this with me.” “This is me trying. Why are you being so selfish?”

The conversations would spiral into bickering, pointless arguments that left you both emotionally and physically drained.

There was even a time when it all fell apart— a breakup that lasted an entire month, neither of you speaking, the silence as heavy as the miles between you.

It wasn’t until Javier finally came to his senses, flying out to New York to win you back, that things started to feel right again.

The reunion was explosive, leading to the most fervid, passionate makeup sex that left the both of you out of commission for the rest of that weekend.

After that rough patch, everything began to fall into place, and it was pretty much smooth sailing from there.

The two of you had weathered the storms of long distance, misunderstandings, and inevitable growing pains of a serious relationship, and you had come out stronger on the other side.

Javier eventually made the decision to move into your apartment, a choice that felt like a natural progression rather than the point of contention it had once been.

You found yourself building a life together, and the city became the backdrop for your blossoming relationship.

He found work at a private security company nearby, a job that kept him engaged but wasn’t nearly as all-consuming as his previous work with the DEA. 

Your own career was thriving as well, your time in South America propelling you forward, and Javier was your biggest supporter. He admired your passion and dedication, often marveling at the way you captured the world through your lens.

Gone were the days of petty arguments and the anxiety of being so far apart. 

Javier’s fiery temperament mellowed in the warmth of your affection, and your once-passive tendencies faded as you grew more confident and assured in his unwavering support.

You learned to communicate more openly, and trust replaced the insecurities that had once threatened to pull you apart.

Now, your life together is a beautiful blend of routine and spontaneity. Whether it’s quiet mornings spent sipping coffee and reading the news together, or weekends exploring the city and its surroundings, everything is finally okay.

It’s much better than anything you could have ever thought up of those late nights in Bogotá, where all you did was dream of being his.

The gallery is abuzz with the energy of admiration and praise, the walls lined with your photographs— snapshots of life that tell stories far beyond the frames they’re bound by.

It’s your night, a celebration of your burgeoning career, and as you move through the room, mingling with friends, colleagues, and mutual acquaintances, your confidence shines brightly.

The alcohol is flowing, the murmur of conversation blending with the soft music that plays throughout the space.

Javier stands near the edge of the room, keeping to the periphery and staying out of the way, but his eyes never leave you and how you glow in the spotlight.

Tonight you’re the center of attention, and rightfully so. You’ve worked your ass off trying to make this exhibit happen and you managed to pull it off seamlessly. But, there’s something else on his mind— something that has him a bit shaken.

The small velvet box tucked securely in his pocket feels heavier with every passing moment.

He plans to propose to you here, a decision he’s been turning over in his mind for well over a year now. Despite the certainty in his heart— that he loves you more than he ever thought possible— there’s a ghost from his past that won’t let him be.

The memory of Lorraine, his ex-fiancée, looms like a shadow, stirring anxieties he thought he’d left behind.

He never imagined himself getting engaged again after that failed relationship, and the fears that haunted him then seem to be creeping back now, whispering doubts even though he knows that what he has with you is completely different.

He takes another careful sip of his drink. Your friends have reassured him that everything will be fine, that you’ll say yes without hesitation.

But still, he can’t shake the apprehension that has him locked in place, keeping him rooted to this spot, while everything moves like a blur around him.

To make himself feel better, Javier allows himself to imagine what it will be like— to see the surprise and joy in your eyes when he gets down on one knee, to feel your arms wrap around him as you say yes, to know that you’re his, officially and forever.

You look so radiant, your cheeks flushed with excitement and champagne, and the sight fills him with a warmth that momentarily drowns out the worry gnawing at his insides.

And that cocktail dress you have on— Christ, it makes you look so sexy. Fitting your silhouette like a glove, accentuating all the curves that make him delirious. He’s half tempted to pull you somewhere more private, fall to his knees, and bury his tongue inside you.

You wouldn’t mind it one bit.

Then, from the corner of your eye, you spot him—your rock, your steady presence, the man who has stood by you through every twist and turn. Even amidst the buzz of the crowd, you can sense his wary disposition, the tension in his stance.

You excuse yourself politely from the conversation you’re in, your steps slightly swaying from all the alcohol you’ve had, and make your way over to where he’s standing.

“Found the life of the party right here,” you tease as you step up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. It’s soft, affectionate, and you taste the liquor on his breath; a reminder that no matter where you are or who’s around, he’s the one you’re always drawn to.

Javier’s heart skips a beat as your lips meet his, and he can’t help but smile down at you, even as the nerves twist in his gut.  “You’re the star tonight, mi amor. I’m just here to admire.” He murmurs, his voice low and warm, his free hand instinctively finding your waist.

“And I’m so glad you are,” you giggle softly, “But something’s on your mind. You okay?” You know him too well, and even through the vignette of champagne, you sense the unease beneath his calm exterior. 

“Yeah, just… taking it all in. Letting you do you,” he replies, his thumb rubbing small circles against your waist which has you exhaling shakily. He tries to sound casual, but there’s a tightness in his chest that won’t go away.

You see right through it, of course. After two years together, you’ve learned to read him like one of your photographs— capturing every subtle shift, every unspoken word. You tilt your head slightly, studying him with that sharp intuition of yours. “You sure?”

He hesitates, his thoughts racing.

He could drop to one knee right now, right here. But the weight of the past holds him back, just for a second longer.

“Just proud of you,” he finally answers, deflecting, but his brown eyes give him away. There’s more he wants to say, the words just catch in his throat.

Your smile softens, and you reach up to stroke his cheek. “Thank you, baby.” you whisper, leaning in to kiss him again, slower this time, as if to reassure him that whatever’s on his mind, it’ll be alright. 

A soft throat clearing from behind you interrupts the intimate bubble you’ve momentarily retreated into.

You roll your eyes playfully, earning a knowing smirk from him before you reluctantly turn on your heel.

Standing there with an expectant look is your best friend, arms crossed and eyebrows raised in mock impatience.

“Sorry to break up the PDA,” she teases, tone laced with humor, “but you’re needed elsewhere.”

You shoot her a faux-glare, but the corners of your mouth twitch upward into a smile.

“Duty calls,” Javier murmurs in your ear. He leans in, pressing a tender kiss to the crown of your hair, the simple gesture making you feel tingly all over. You close your eyes briefly, savoring the moment before letting out a soft sigh.

With a resigned smile, you reach for his almost-empty glass, still held loosely in his hand. Without breaking eye contact, you tilt it back and drain the remaining contents in one swift motion, the smoky burn a small, satisfying feeling that warms up your blood.

Your friend snorts at your display, a grin tugging at her lips. “Cute. You’ve got her shooting whiskey now.”

You hand the empty glass back to Javier, who’s watching you with a specific glint in his eyes that you can’t quite put your finger on, and you wonder what it is that’s got him behaving like this.

“Go do what you have to do,” he tells you softly, fingers brushing against yours as he takes the glass. “I’ll be here when you’re done.”

You nod, giving him one last peck before turning to follow her to where you’re needed. As you walk away, you can feel his eyes on you, so you sway your hips exaggeratedly. 

She nudges you playfully as you weave through the crowd. “You two are disgustingly cute, you know that?”

You can’t help but snicker, “I really lucked out with him,” you reply and she nods, understanding how much he means to you and vice versa. “He’s been acting really weird all night. Don’t know what’s gotten into him.”

She pokes her tongue against her cheek, trying her damndest not to spoil the big surprise even though she’s so excited for your reaction. “He’s so used to having you all to himself that he can’t stand sharing you with the rest of the world.” 

Now you nudge her, catching the sarcasm in her voice.

There’s a flutter in your chest telling you it’s more than that. There isn’t much you can do at the moment so you just drop it all together, a large grin on your face as you get pulled back into the social whirl.

You’re standing on the far side of the room, engaged in a lively conversation with the professor who had suggested you for the position in Bogotá. The conversation is light and familiar, filled with nostalgic anecdotes and her telling you she knew that you were perfect for the job.

Then, you hear someone softly call your name from behind.

You turn to face a man who appears slightly older than you, with sharp, handsome features and an air of pretentiousness that’s impossible to ignore. His perfectly tailored suit and calculated smile speak volumes before he even opens his mouth.

You bid farewell with your professor and shift your attention to the man before you.

“Peter Andrews,” he introduces himself smoothly, extending a hand which you shake. “Fellow reporter, currently working on a piece about the rising individuals in the field. I was hoping I could steal a few moments of your time for a quick interview.”

His eyes rake over you shamelessly, tongue wetting his lips, and then he adds, “I have to say, you’re even more beautiful in person.”

And there it is— the not-so-subtle flirtation, wrapped in a thin veneer of professionalism. You catch it instantly but choose to brush it off with a sweet, practiced smile, hand returning to your side. “Thank you,” you reply politely, already calculating how to keep the conversation on track.

You walk a little further down and he gestures toward the collection of pictures displayed on the wall opposite you, the ones capturing your time in Colombia. “Impressive work,” he remarks, eyes lingering on the images. “I’m particularly surprised you managed to get Javier Peña to talk.”

You recall that weekend spent in the Hamptons with Javier, where the goal had been to wrap up the project. Instead, it had been repeatedly delayed, thanks to his inability to keep his hands off you. The memory makes you smile inwardly, but you keep your expression neutral, curiosity piqued by his comment.

Your brows knit together as you question him, “Why do you say that?”

He exhales heavily, as if what he’s about to say is common knowledge. “I’ve just heard the guy is kind of an asshole.”

You suppress a laugh, realizing he has no idea that the so-called “asshole” he’s referring to is actually your boyfriend. Deciding to keep that detail to yourself for now, you feign interest, wanting to hear more of what’s being said about the former agent.

“Really?”

He hums, shifting his weight on his feet, eyes moving between you and the framed photos, “Yup. It’s a bit astounding that he wasn’t thrown in jail for, well, you know.” He motions vaguely and your eyes narrow, “Bringing him back was definitely… a move. A criminal going after criminals. Guess it’s the only way to catch ‘em, right? Takes one to know one type of situation.”

You bite down on your tongue harshly, hating the way he’s talking about Javier. He doesn’t know the half of it and if he did, he wouldn’t be so fucking judgemental.

“Criminals going after criminals,” you echo his words back to him with an edge, “Sounds like every other government man,” you add and he lets out a haughty laugh, the sound grating on your nerves. 

His arrogance makes your stomach twist, but you hide your distaste, bowing your head slightly as if to smooth out your dress, masking the grimace that threatens to surface.

The conversation with Peter continues with a few more back-and-forth questions. Nothing particularly groundbreaking. You answer with ease, maintaining the courteous smile you’ve perfected over the years.

Meanwhile, Javier has been searching for you, his brows drawn together in a deep scowl. He stops your friend and asks where you might be. She points him toward the more deserted side of the room, where he spots you engaged in conversation with another man.

Javier knows he has nothing to worry about— he’s secure in himself and in your relationship. But still, a sharp surge of jealousy courses through him as he takes in the scene.

The man, with his taller frame towering over yours, is standing just a little too close for Javier’s liking. His hand twitches at his side, as if he’s holding himself back from reaching out to touch you, and that’s enough to set your boyfriend on edge.

Before his brain can fully process it, his feet are already moving, carrying him across the room at a faster pace than he intended. He stops when he’s close enough to overhear your conversation but not to let himself be seen, keeping a watchful eye while trying to gauge the situation.

Neither you nor Peter notice his presence, too absorbed in your exchange to sense him nearby.

Not that it matters much— Javier can tell from your body language that you’re wrapping things up, and that small observation helps ease the tension in his chest. Still, he remains alert, listening intently while his gaze never wavers from you.

“So, where’s the after party?”

You laugh softly, shaking your head as you respond, “No after party. I’m looking forward to going home with my boyfriend.”

Javier, still watching from a distance, feels a swell of pride in his chest. Hell yeah, gatita, let that fucker know you’re taken.

Peter’s eyebrows lift slightly in surprise. “You’re in a relationship?”

“Yes,” you confirm, your voice steady. A server passes by with a tray of champagne, and you take a flute, thanking him before sipping from it to maintain your composure, though your thoughts are far less polite than your demeanor.

“Happily?” Peter presses, his boldness catching you off guard. You raise your brows in amusement, nearly choking on your drink at the audacity of his question.

Javier’s jaw tightens, and he’s on the verge of stepping in, ready to make his presence known to the man who’s clearly trying to make a move on you.

“Very,” you reply firmly, tone leaving no room for doubt.

“So I shouldn’t invite you back to my hotel room for a nightcap,” Peter murmurs, his tone dripping with suggestion.

You suddenly realize just how close he’s gotten, his breath warm against your ear. His hand has somehow found its way to your waist, fingers grazing your hip in a way that makes your skin crawl.

That’s the last straw for Javier. Without hesitation, he steps out from his spot, his voice cutting through the tension. “There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

The way Peter jumps back from you is almost comical, his eyes wide with surprise as he scrambles to put some distance between you both. It’s like that self-assured, cocky attitude was completely dissipated by Javier’s presence. 

Relief floods through you as your boyfriend steps closer, putting you at ease. An arm snakes around your waist, pulling you firmly against his side, and the warmth of his touch melts away any lingering discomfort.

“Sorry,” you say, definitely feeling the drinks in your system. “Peter here pulled me aside for an interview. He was shocked to find out that you actually sat down to talk to me about your time in Colombia. Apparently, you’ve got a reputation for being kind of an asshole.”

Javier chuckles dryly, his grip on your waist tightening protectively as he looks the other man dead in the eye. “Is that so?” he drawls, his tone calm but with an unmistakable edge. “Well, I guess everyone’s entitled to their opinion.”

Peter, clearly flustered, forces a laugh, his previous confidence now shaken. “Oh, you know how rumors are,” he stammers, taking a step back. “It’s just what I’ve heard.”

“Good thing I don’t put much stock in rumors,” Javier replies, leaving no doubt that he’s marking his territory.

You nestle closer into Javier’s embrace, smelling his cologne, feeling a sense of satisfaction as Peter fumbles for words. The dynamic has shifted, and it’s clear who holds the power in this situation.

“Besides,” he adds with a pointed look, “I am an asshole.”

You grin and bite down on your lip as he presses a kiss to your temple. Peter finally decides to retreat, mumbling something about taking a ‘very important phone call’. As he scurries off, you can’t help but feel a surge of pride for the man by your side—strong, vigilant, and completely yours.

Once he is out of sight, you turn to Javier, a twinkle in your stare. “You really do know how to make an entrance,” you tease, leaning up to kiss him softly.

“Just making sure no one forgets who you belong to,” he murmurs against your lips, the possessiveness in his tone unmistakable. It’s so hot.

“As if I could ever forget.”

Somehow, you’ve found yourselves in a secluded enough corner for Javier to let his hand slide down from your waist to cup your ass, his fingers squeezing firmly over the fabric of your dress. The touch draws a soft gasp from your lips as you lean into him.

“Me estás volviendo loco con este vestido, amor,” he mutters in a low growl, indicating his growing need for you. “Wanna take you home and rip it right off you.”

You bite down on your lip, the idea swirling in your mind with a dangerous allure.

The thought of leaving this event—your event—early, just to be alone with him, is tempting, more than you’d like to admit.

But even as the desire flares between you, you know it’s not the most graceful move to make, disappearing from your own celebration just to satisfy your hunger for each other.

“Soon, Javi,” you whisper, trying to be the voice of reason in the building suspense, even as you try to maintain some semblance of composure.

But Javier’s hands have a mind of their own, growing bolder as they firmly grip your ass, pulling your hips to his.

The heat between you is tangible, and the restraint slowly slips away as his touch becomes more insistent.

Sensing that things are about to get dangerously out of hand, you quickly reach down to grip his wrists, gently but firmly stopping him before the moment escalates beyond your control, or worse, you’re caught.

“C’mon, sneak off to the bathroom with me. I’ll be quick,” Javier whispers, his voice thick as he leans in to nip at your earlobe. It sends a jolt of heat straight to the apex of your thighs, and you have to bite back a moan.

You tilt your head slightly, eyes scanning the room to make sure no one’s paying attention.

That no one’s searching for you.

When you’re sure it’s safe, you grab his large hand, heart pounding with excitement as you begin to pull him toward the back area of the building.

He’s sporting a triumph smirk that tempts you into kissing it right off his annoyingly handsome face.

Skipping the public restrooms, you guide him to the more secluded one for employees, knowing it’s the only place where you’re least likely to be interrupted.

The door barely clicks shut before he’s spinning you around, pressing your back firmly against it. His lips crash onto yours with an urgency that feels almost desperate, like kissing you is the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

His hands roam over your body, fingers digging into your hips as he pins you against the door, his mouth moving hungrily against yours. It’s unrestrained, filled with a need that borders on primal.

Your hands find their way to his hair, tugging him closer as your tongues tangle. The confined space only heightens the anticipation, the thrill of being caught shouldn’t feel this exhilarating. 

But amidst the whirlwind of passion, you manage to break the kiss, pulling back just enough to gasp for air. “I need to go back out there soon,” you whisper, your voice shaky, lips swollen and glistening.

Javier groans in protest, a deep, throaty sound that reverberates through your very core. In one swift motion, he maneuvers you over to the countertop by the sink, lifting you effortlessly to perch on top of the cool marble surface.

His hands are already working, sneaky fingers rucking your dress up until it’s bunched around your waist, revealing the silky barrier of your underwear. His gaze drops, taking in the sight of your exposed thighs, the delicate fabric already damp with anticipation.

A wicked smirk plays on his lips as he lowers to his knees before you, hooking a finger around your panties, tugging them aside to unveil your glistening folds.

The cool air brushes against your scorching skin, eliciting a soft gasp from your lips. Javier’s eyes dart up, meeting yours, the smoldering intensity making your breath hitch.

He leans in, his warm breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh. The first touch of his tongue is agonizingly gentle, a teasing glide along your slit that has your hips bucking forward, seeking more.

He obliges, flattening his tongue to deliver a languid, thorough lick from your entrance up to your clit, collecting your arousal with a groan of appreciation.

A tremor runs through you, your fingers instinctively weaving into his hair, anchoring him closer. He chuckles softly against your pussy, igniting sparks in your veins.

His hands grip your thighs, thumbs stroking soothing patterns as he delves deeper, his tongue exploring every ridge and contour with meticulous attention.

When he finally wraps his lips around your swollen clit, sucking with just the right amount of pressure, a strangled moan escapes you.

Your thighs clamp around his head, the feeling so overwhelming, but Javier seems unfazed, his focus solely on drawing out every ounce of bliss he can from you. His tongue flicks and circles, alternating between gentle laps and fervent suckles, each movement pushing you closer to the precipice.

Your back arches involuntarily, head falling back against the mirror with a gentle thud but you’re too overwhelmed with how good he’s making you feel to notice the dull ache.

The room fades away, party outside muted, leaving only the slick sounds of Javier’s ministrations and your ragged breaths.

“Javi,” you pant, your voice barely above a whisper, laden with need. He grumbles, the sound sending a fresh surge of wetness to leak from your cunt.

His pace quickens, tongue and lips working in tandem to push you over the edge, his mustache scratching against you so delightfully.

The coil in your belly tightens, every nerve ending alight, and with a final, expertly placed suck, you shatter, pleasure washing over you in relentless waves.

Your vision blurs, stars dancing behind your closed eyelids as you ride out your climax, Javier’s tongue continuing its gentle caresses, guiding you back down.

As the aftershocks subside, you release your grip on his hair, fingers numb and trembling.

Javier pries your legs apart, placing a few more wet kisses on your pussy before nipping your thighs and standing to tower over you, kissing you roughly.

You can taste yourself on him, the heady flavor with the spicy liquor he’s been sipping on all night is an inebriating combination.

Pulling back, he rests his forehead against yours, both of you breathing heavily, faces heated. “Okay, we can go back now.” he teases, a smug grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You laugh softly, still reeling from how quickly he got you off.

This man has a fucking mouth on him.

“You’re insatiable,” you murmur, affection lacing your tone as you bring your thumb up to smooth down his mustache, collecting some of your cum and feeding it between his lips.

He bites down on it gently after licking it clean. “Have you seen yourself? Hard not to be.” He responds, stealing another quick kiss before helping you straighten your dress, fingers lingering a moment longer than necessary which has you reprimanding him playfully.

You both compose yourselves, cleaning up and ready to return to the world outside, but he hangs back.

“You go first. I’ll be out there in a minute.” You nod with a small smile, leaning in to kiss him one last time before leaving him alone.

As the door closes behind you, Javier checks the silver watch on his wrist, noting the time. He exhales a heavy breath, the moment settling on his shoulders. “Okay,” he mutters to his reflection, the image of himself staring back with a mixture of anticipation and nerves. “This is it.”

He talks some confidence into himself, squaring his shoulders as the weight of the small box in his pocket becomes palpable.

It feels impossibly heavy, but it’s a weight he knows he’s ready to carry. This is what he wants— he wants you in every sense imaginable, and he’s ready to make that commitment.

With a deep breath, he adjusts his clothes, smoothing out any wrinkles and straightening his tie. His hands move to his hair, fixing the tousled strands left by your eager fingers, a small smile playing at his lips as he thinks of you.

A quick once-over in the mirror confirms he’s presentable, and with one final, steadying breath, he steps out to follow you, the decision already made and the path ahead clearer than ever.

You stare at Javier quizzically as he silences the room with a simple gesture, the murmur of conversations fading away as all eyes turn toward the two of you. He steps closer, his expression serious but softened by the warmth in his eyes.

You hadn’t expected him to make a speech— he’s not usually one for public displays— but the idea of him surprising you with one fills your chest with a rush of affection. A happy, almost nervous smile tugs at your lips as you gaze up at him.

Javier clears his throat, his gaze never leaving yours, and for a moment, the world narrows to just the two of you. “I’m proud of you,” he begins steadily, “Proud of the woman you are, the things you’ve accomplished, how you handle everything life throws at you with grace and determination.”

Your heart swells with adoration. Even though he tells you these things all the time when it’s just the two of you, having him declare it out loud to the rest of the world really pulls at your heartstrings.

“You’ve made me a better man,” he admits as he reaches out to take your hand. “You’ve shown me what it truly means to love someone unconditionally, to stand by their side even at their worst. I know I’ve given you plenty of reasons to walk away, and God knows I haven’t made it easy. But you’ve stayed, through all my shit, and that’s something I’ll never take for granted.”

His words hang in the air, the room is utterly silent now, every person captivated by the honesty in his voice. You can feel the love radiating from him, the deep, unwavering affection that has only grown stronger with time.

“From the moment we met, nothing about our relationship has ever been conventional,” Javier continues, his voice steady despite the nerves you can sense in the clamminess of his palm. You give his hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze, hoping to ease some of his tension.

“We’ve faced challenges and obstacles in the strangest sequence. And that’s why I love what we’ve built together so damn much— it’s real, it’s raw, and it’s ours. Two stubborn, complicated people who somehow found a way to make it work.”

You’re hit with a wave of emotion, and you feel your eyes begin to glisten as you hold his stare. He carries a sincerity that touches something deep within you, a reminder of just how far you’ve come together.

Javier takes a deep breath, brown eyes never leaving yours. He releases your hand to reach into his pocket, pulling out the small velvet box that has been weighing on his mind all night.

The room collectively holds its breath, and you can hear a few gasps as he drops to one knee, eyes still on yours, nervousness and absolute certainty in his expression.

Your stomach bottoms out and you’re half tempted to pinch yourself to make sure you’re not dreaming. You look around to find your best friend, who just flashes you an encouraging smile, in tears herself.

“Gatita,” he begins, the pet name bringing you back to him, “I never thought I’d find someone like you. You’ve changed my life in ways I never imagined, and I can’t picture my future without you in it.”

He opens the box, revealing a beautiful, sparkling ring that catches the light and seems to shine just as brightly as the love in his eyes.

You gasp, recognizing the large diamond that sits at the center of it. 

Javier had Frankenstein’d his mother’s ring and the one you purchased in that antique shop back in Colombia. With Chucho’s permission, of course, he replaced the diamond on his mother’s ring and put yours in its place, just slightly altering the original band to fit your finger.

It’s truly the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen, and okay sure— maybe you’re biased because it’s being offered to you by the man of your dreams.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” Javier declares as steadily as he can, despite the emotion thickening his words. “Will you marry me?”

Tears blur your vision, the reality of the moment sinking in. You look down at the man you love, the man who has been your partner in every sense of the word.

Your agent.

You nod, unable to find the words but knowing he can see the answer in your eyes.

“Yes, Javi,” you manage to choke out, voice trembling. “Yes, a thousand times yes, I’ll marry you.”

The room erupts in applause and cheers, but all you can focus on is the radiant smile on Javier’s face as he slips the ring onto your finger. The kiss you share is filled with all the love, passion, and promise of the future you’ll continue to build together, a future that’s just as unconventional, just as perfect as the journey that brought you together.

The rest of the evening is a whirlwind of joy and excitement, your engagement ring sparking endless conversations as you gush about it to everyone who crosses your path. Javier stays close by your side, his earlier nerves replaced with a relaxed and happy demeanor.

The gratification in his eyes is unmistakable as he watches you share your happiness with those around you.

The night winds down on a perfect note, and with your apartment just a short walk from the gallery, the two of you stumble through the city streets, your laughter and drunken smiles lighting up the night.

In the elevator of your building, you make out like horny teenagers. This time, it’s you who takes control, pressing Javier up against the railing that lines the small space. Your hand trails down to rub his erection over his pants. He groans against your mouth, the sound full of want.

When the elevator dings open, you grab his tie and pull him down the hallway, both of you struggling to keep your hands off each other as you fumble with the keys. After a few failed attempts at unlocking the door, you finally manage to get inside the apartment.

You break away from him, your breath coming in quick, excited bursts as you tug the loosened tie from around his neck. “Wait for me in the living room.”

He stares down at you, dark eyes revealing the hunger he has for you and yours reflect the same sentiment tenth fold. 

He nods, relinquishing his hold, but not before delivering a sharp smack to your ass as you walk away toward the bedroom. “Don’t take too long. I’m trying to fuck my fiancée.”

You shoot him a playful, heated look over your shoulder before closing the door behind you. Leaning against it for a moment, you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.

So many good things have happened tonight, and adrenaline surges through your veins, leaving you in a euphoric high.

You walk over to your closet, rummaging through it, until you find what you’re looking for. The familiar mask comes into view, and a slow smile spreads across your lips as you trace the pointed ears with fondness.

You don’t wear it as often as you used to, reserving it for special occasions or when Javier has had an especially rough day at work— nights when you know he needs to let go.

Tonight seems like an appropriate time to bring out again.

In the bathroom, you strip out of your dress, letting the fabric pool at your feet. After freshening up, you slip the mask over your face, feeling a thrill as it settles into place.

Now, you’re completely naked except for your heels, the engagement ring sparkling on your finger, and the expensive necklace Javier gifted you on your two year anniversary. 

Grabbing his tie, you stumble slightly as you make your way back to him, pausing in the hallway to flick the lights off. You hang back, just before crossing the threshold into the living room, your heart pounding in your ears.

“You in there?” you call out playfully.

“Yes, ma’am,” comes his reply, followed by the soft clink of ice in a glass.

Peeking around the corner, you spot him sitting on the couch, his broad back facing you. Quietly, you slip into the room, your movements light as you come up behind him.

“Hello, agent,” you purr, words dripping with seduction as you place your hands over his eyes.

His body tenses briefly, a deep, carnal rumble vibrating in his chest as he catches on to your game. A half smile tugs at his lips, one that makes your heart skip a beat. “Hola, gatita.”

You giggle mischievously, the sound light as you lean in to lick the back of his ear, savoring the way he shivers at your touch. Then, with deliberate care, you bring the silk tie over his eyes, tying it securely behind his head.

“Just so you don’t get tempted to look.”

You round the couch slowly, each purposeful click of your heels against the flooring teasing him. His ears seem to twitch at the sound, and he brings the glass to his lips, sipping lazily.

“You won’t believe what happened tonight,” you come to a stop in front of him, right between his spread legs.

“Yeah? What’s that?” he asks, his tone casual but tinged with the same eagerness that pulses throughout you.

“I got engaged.”

Javier’s tongue slowly rolls over his lips, an arrogant smirk replacing his lopsided smile.

The sight of him, shirt half undone, his strong chest peeking through, a prominent tent in his pants where his hard cock strains against the fabric, has your core throbbing. The way he looks, blinded by the tie, relaxed but clearly aroused, is nothing short of irresistible.

He lets out a low whistle. “Lucky man. Think he can handle you?”

You lean forward, pressing your hands onto his thighs, your grip firm as you let the hard tip of your kitten mask just barely graze his nose, teasing him with your closeness. “Oh, I’m positive he can.”

Javier licks across his teeth, the simper deepening as he suavely finishes off his drink. He hands the glass to you without a word, and you take it, placing it on the table next to the couch then turning your attention back to him.

“I should be the one playing with you, preciosa. Tonight’s all about you,” Javier murmurs as he reaches for you. But before his hands can make contact, you pull back, leaving him grasping at the air. He frowns.

“And what I want,” you counter, your voice dropping to a sexy whisper, “is to mount my man and ride the daylights out of him.”

The words hit him like a punch, his hands balling into fists as he curses under his breath. The sight of his restraint, of how much he wants you, brings a satisfied grin to your lips.

You’ve got him exactly where you want him.

You step back to him slowly, your fingers deftly undoing his belt and popping open his pants. His breathing quickens as you slip your hand inside, wrapping your fingers around his velvety length, stroking him with gentle, baiting movements. “Already so hard,” you coo, tightening your grip on his dick ever so slightly, “You want this gatita so bad, don’t you, agent?”

He nods, muttering expletives as his head falls back against the edge of the couch. The sensation of your hand working him over is pure bliss, each stroke sending a lustful charge up his spine.

You lean in closer, your lips trailing kisses and nips along the thick column of his neck, your teeth grazing his throat in a way that makes him tremble. When you reach the birthmark on his neck, you plant a sweet, lingering kiss there, knowing exactly how sensitive he is in that spot.

Javier’s senses are heightened, the alcohol and adrenaline from the proposal amplifying every touch. The tie covering his eyes only sharpens his awareness of you, of the way your hand moves expertly over his cock, coaxing it to twitch.

The combination of your softness, your scent, and your whispered words has him on the edge, his body stiff, every nerve alive and burning for you.

“All the time,” he grunts, “Let me touch you, baby, please.”

There’s that slight whine in his tone, the one only you know he’s capable of making. He doesn’t even realize you’re naked yet and you know that’s going to set him off.

“Not yet,” you whisper in a tantalizing promise. You swipe your thumb over the slit of his cock, smearing the slick precum along his shaft, making him shudder. After a few more languid strokes, you pull your hand away, ignoring the low groan of protest that escapes him.

You tug his bottoms down just enough to free his swollen cock and heavy balls, it’s always a delight to see him hard and ready for you.

“Tan guapo,” you murmur appreciatively, your nails lightly scratching at his thighs, leaving a trail of tingling heat in their wake as you move up his beautifully tanned torso. His skin ripples with goosebumps at the light touches, aching for more.

You undo the remaining buttons of his shirt, sliding the fabric off his broad shoulders, exposing more of his skin to your eager hands. As you straddle his lap, he inhales sharply, the realization hitting him all at once— you’re completely bare and dripping wet for him.

It has the need to touch you growing unbearable.

Your hands glide to his shoulders, massaging the tight muscles there, and he sighs contentedly, tension slowly easing from his body under your soothing fingers.

He’s so close to losing control, and you revel in it, knowing that you’re the one who can drive him to the edge and pull him back just as easily.

“Wanna know a secret?” you whisper, leaning in closer, your soft tits pressing against his heated chest, mouth hovering just over his ear.

Javier tilts his chin up in response, a silent invitation for you to continue. As you lower yourself on his lap, his cock slides between your slick, sticky folds, and your hips begin to move in a slow, deliberate grind, coating him with your wetness.

“I’d been in your apartment back in Colombia before that night I blew you,” you confess in a sultry murmur, the words slipping from your lips so sinfully.

His head tilts slightly, curiosity piqued, and when he speaks, his voice drops to that smooth, dangerously seductive tone that sends shivers down your spine— he’d make a killing as a sex phone operator. “What do you mean?”

You’ve never told him about your little Goldilocks moment, that sneaky visit to his apartment when he wasn’t home. But tonight, with your bodies entwined and his cock teasing your entrance, it feels like a good time to reveal it.

“You went to Cali to catch Gilberto Rodríguez, leaving your place empty for me to explore. It was so exhilarating, all the little things I learned about you by snooping around.” A needy whine escapes your lips as the thick head of his cock brushes against your clit. Your pussy clenches around nothing, begging for more, desperate for him to finally slip inside you.

His brows furrow, intrigue and lust clouding his expression, and you can feel the strain tightening his body as you pick up the pace, grinding down harder against him.

“I couldn’t help myself,” you continue, slurring your words, “I was so turned on by the smell of your cologne lingering on the pillows… and my mind… well, se puso un poco imaginativa al pensar en que rico te sentirías jodiéndome.”

His fists clench at his sides, knuckles white as they twitch with the urge to touch you. “¿Qué hiciste, gatita?” 

You let the heavy pause linger between you, suspense hanging, before finally biting your lip and confessing, “I fucked myself on your pillow.”

Javier’s reaction is immediate, a growl rumbling deep in his throat as the image of you humping against his pillow while he was away seizes his thoughts. His teeth bare into a snarl, the thought of you pleasuring yourself in his space while he was gone intensifies his arousal.

“It felt amazing,” you purr, “I screamed your name when I came. Best solo orgasm I’ve ever had. All thanks to you, agent.”

The guttural sound he lets out has your thighs tensing as he bucks his hips up, adding more friction to the slick heat of your pussy. “Jesus Christ, you’re a naughty fucking thing, aren’t you?”

“Only for you,” you whisper, your tongue darting out to lick along his jawline, your breath hitching as the pressure builds within you, your movements against his now drenched cock growing more frantic.

“Show me,” he pants out, rough and demanding. “Show me how you did it.”

You don’t need to be told twice. Gripping his broad shoulders for support, you adjust your angle as you begin to replicate the way you rode his pillow that night. You lose yourself in it entirely, going absolutely feral on his cock. 

The coarse hairs at the base of him brush against your sensitive cunt, adding a delicious juxtaposition that makes your toes curl.

You rut against him with purpose, your slick folds gliding over his length, hips rolling in a rhythm that has him cursing under his breath. His cock twitches with each movement, a symphony of your shared, ragged breaths and the wet, erotic friction between you filling the space.

As you move, you can feel the traction in your core winding tighter and tighter, his body responding to every little thing you do.

You sigh his name out, your voice wavering with the approach of your orgasm. You’re so close, teetering on the edge, and he can sense it. His husky voice cuts through the haze of pleasure, a dark, encouraging sneer that prickles at your skin.

“That’s right, gatita, come all over this cock, my perverted little bitch.”

That delicious line of degradation is the final push you need. You lock up, figure glistening with sweat as you shatter around him, your juices soaking him as your hips stutter out of control. Pathetic, broken moans escape your lips, your mind absolutely lost.

Javier’s had enough of not being able to touch you. As you ride out the last waves of your orgasm, he wraps his strong arms around you, effortlessly repositioning you so that he’s on top while keeping you nestled in his lap.

With a swift motion, he rips the blindfold from his eyes and takes your heels off, drinking in the sight of your figure beneath him. The darkened room only heightens his need, your sexy silhouette and the kitten mask driving him up the fucking wall.

He moves quickly, grabbing his thick shaft at the base and slapping it against your sensitive clit a few times, watching with satisfaction as you quiver from the sharp, teasing sensation.

His palm spreads at your lower back, steadying you, then with a grunt, he sheathes himself inside your pussy.

“Fuck,” he drawls the curse word out, clenching his jaw. The sweet burn of him stretching you out has your skin buzzing, your nerves on fire, and he’s lost in the way your tight, wet pussy grips him perfectly, just as it always does.

“You’re so big, Javi. Feels so good,” you whimper breathlessly as you tighten your arms around him, pulling him closer.

The praise spurs him on, and with a rough groan, he sucks a nipple into his mouth, biting down just enough to make you gasp.

Your reaction drives him wild, and he snaps his hips sharply against yours, filling you to the hilt in one powerful thrust.

Your yelp of satisfaction echoes in the room as he starts to fuck you hard and fast, the pace relentless, designed to push you both toward that blissful release.

Your hand reaches back to steady yourself further against the couch, fingers digging into the cushions as he drives into you with urgency.

The rhythm he sets is maddening, your hips meeting his with equal fervor. Your lips find his in a messy, desperate kiss, neither of you caring that your mask is in the way. It’s something you’ve gotten used to by now.

“Taking it so good, gatita,” your pussy clenches around him, “Soy el unico que te lo puede dar asi, don’t you fucking forget it.”

The memory of that other man, his wandering eyes and bold advances, has all but faded.

Jealousy has awakened something so primal and attractive in Javier, a fierceness that makes your pulse race. You love it when he’s like this— unyielding, dominant, marking you as his own.

Each ragged breath he takes fuels the rough rhythm of his body against yours, leaving you aching in the best way, a deep satisfaction blossoming alongside the lingering soreness.

“R-Remind me, then,” you whisper, barely audible, caught between a plea and a challenge.

He responds with a brutal thrust, stilling once he’s buried balls deep inside, his thick cock filling your needy cunt.

Javier’s hands are unrelenting as he pushes you flat against the couch, his broad figure hovering over you. One hand snakes down to your throat, his fingers pressing into your soft skin, cutting off just enough air to make you gasp and your vision to blur.

“You need a reminder?” His voice is dangerously low, the mocking tone has your clit throbbing almost painfully as his grip tightens, pulling you closer. “That fucking ring on your finger not enough?”

You move your hips against him, desperate for more, but his hand flies down to your waist, fingers digging in roughly to halt your movements. A pitiful whimper escapes you, your need for his cock all consuming.

His hold around your neck loosens just enough for you to draw in a shuddering breath, your chest rising and falling rapidly. “P-Please, Javi.”

He answers with a cruel smirk, slamming you back down, his hips pulling away until only the swollen head remains inside you. Then, without warning, he plunges back in, forcing a scream of his name from your lips as he begins to fuck you, each stroke filling you completely as he gives you exactly what you’ve been pleading for.

The air is thick with the sounds of your desperate, mingled moans, your bodies slick with sweat as you move together like wild animals in heat. 

His hand remains firm on your throat, keeping you pinned beneath his weight as he shifts your legs higher on his waist, opening you up even more. The other hand moves to your breasts, his palm cracking against one and then the other, sending them bouncing with each slap.

Your acrylics scratch at the wrist of the hand that’s around your neck, the engagement ring glinting in the moonlight that floods the space, casting a silver sheen over the heated scene.

His eyes hone in on the jewelry, the grip on you unbending. “You’re mine,” he growls, each word punctuated by a harsh thrust that makes your eyes roll back, your body helpless against his claim. “Say it.”

“I—” Your voice falters, the words choked off by the sudden, electrifying pinch of his fingers on your clit. You find yourself chasing more of that feeling.

“Fucking say it,” he demands again, this time more gruffly, as if not hearing you declare yourself to him is painful. His fingers slap your bundle of nerves, and you jerk, back arching taut off the couch.

“I’m yours, Javi, fuck, I’m yours,” you cry out, the confession spilling from your lips as you writh beneath him. “I only want you— your cock, your mouth, your touch— everything. Oh,” you moan, your voice breaking as his relentless pounding has your cunt pulsating around his length.

“So close, baby, I’m about to come, please don’t stop.” The overwhelming pleasure builds to a fever pitch, leaving you quivering and completely at his mercy. 

Your desperate words satisfy him, a dark hunger finally sated as he leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. 

Your fleshy walls tighten around his cock as you shatter completely, coming undone. You pant and moan into his mouth, and he drinks in every tremor of your climax.

After a moment, he pulls back just enough to let you catch your breath. “On your knees, gatita.”

His voice is all hoarse and authoritative, leaving no room for hesitation. 

Although your body is still shaking, you obey, sluggishly slipping to your knees with a slow, dazed blink.

He towers above you, all dominating and manly, as he reaches down, pinching your chin between his fingers. He tilts your head up, forcing you to meet his gaze, the intensity in his eyes making you whimper.

His cock hovers before you, and you can’t help but admire the mess you’ve made on him. Without a word, he guides it between your swollen lips, and you eagerly accept him, your tongue swirling around the tip before you wrap your lips around him. Sucking your cheeks tight as you move, he groans, his large hand at the back of your neck.

The taste of yourself mixed with his musk is addicting as you slide him deeper into your hot mouth, inch by inch, until he’s buried completely down your throat, a wet gag sounding out as you struggle to take all of him. Your hands grip his thighs for support while you work to clean him off.

“Shit,” he grunts, pulling you off his throbbing cock and jerking himself furiously over your open mouth. You stick your tongue out, pretty eyes locking onto his, heavy-lidded and filled with lust. “Gonna look so pretty with my cum all over you,” he rasps. It’s all the warning you get before he groans low in his throat, his hips jerking as spurts of his hot, milky load shoot from his swollen slit.

The warm fluid lands everywhere— on your tongue, splattering across your kitten mask, dripping down your chin. Some of it trickles onto the diamonds that gleam around your neck, and the sight of you like this is so fucking perfect, it sends a surge of possessive pride straight to his heart.

With the little energy he has left, he mumbles, “Stay just like that,” before quickly walking over to the entertainment center. He grabs the Polaroid camera, turning to you as he snaps a photo, capturing the erotic moment.

There you are— naked with your face covered in his seed, a sultry glint in your eyes, the kitten mask perched prettily on your face.

“Hermosa,” he breathes, admiring his work, his gaze worshipful as he lowers the camera.

Once he’s got your photo, you curl your tongue back into your mouth, the saltiness making you hum at how yummy he tastes.

Your fingers delicately collect the remnants from your chin, your neck, and even your mask, before slipping them into your mouth to savor every last drop. The way you devour it makes his breath hitch all over again.

Javier smiles down at you, his gaze softening as he gently helps you up from your knees. He reaches for the edge of your mask and slowly lifts it from your face and tosses it aside, wanting nothing between you as he leans in for a kiss.

His lips meet yours with a gentleness that makes your heart flutter, the exhiliration of your fucking melting into something far sweeter.

“I love you,” he murmurs, those three little words filled with a depth of emotion that makes you feel like you’re floating. The tenderness in his voice, the way he holds you as if you’re the most precious thing in the world, makes your heart swell, your body and soul wrapped up in the love you have for him.

“I love you more,” you whisper back warmly, giving him a final, sweet peck. The avidity of the night begins to ebb, leaving the two of you in a serene, exhausted state.

Javier gathers you into his strong arms, holding you close as he carries you to the bathroom. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your chest is comforting, and you nuzzle into his neck, feeling completely at peace.

Once inside, he sets you down carefully, his hands never straying far from you as he begins to run a hot shower. The sound of the water cascading down is soothing, steam filling the room. He steps behind you, unclasping your necklace and setting it on the counter.

He steps into the shower with you, standing together under the droplets. His hands move over your figure lovingly, lathering you up in that soap of yours that he loves the scent of.

He’s playful in his affection, cheekily cupping your breasts before sliding his hands down to your ass, giving it a gentle squeeze, making you laugh softly as he finishes rinsing you off. 

You return the favor, your fingers tracing the contours of his toned figure, memorizing every inch of the man you’re about to marry. It still doesn’t even feel real.

After you finish your respective night routines, Javier tugs you toward the bed, and you follow willingly. The cool sheets feel like a welcome embrace as you slip under them, and he immediately pulls you close, wrapping his arms around you, your bodies fitting together perfectly.

You look up at him, a surge of pure love and endearment welling up inside you.

“You make me so happy, Javi,” you murmur, your fingers caressing the damp curls at his forehead. The sincerity in your voice is unmistakable, and you see the way it touches him deeply. “I can’t wait to be your wife. Just saying it makes me all giddy.” You giggle, and his mouth quirks up into that familiar half-smile you adore so much, tilting his head to place a kiss against the diamond of your ring.

“I can’t wait either,” he replies, his thumb lazily stroking your cheek as he gazes down into your eyes. “You’ve given me everything I never knew I needed. You have no idea how happy you make me, corazón. I’m the luckiest fucker in the world.”

You lean in, pressing your lips to his in a soft, lingering kiss. It’s a kiss that conveys everything words can’t— the depth of your love, the excitement for your future, the joy of knowing you’ve found your forever.

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 8

part 1 | part 7 | ao3

He finds himself on Cherry Drive by muscle memory alone. Quarter mile past Maple Street, take the third left, the second right; drive straight through the next stop sign and suddenly the Hagan house is coming into view around the bend, bathed in dim yellow light from a flickering street lamp. A 50s era ranch house, painted brick with a detached one-car garage, weeds sprouting through the crooked old stones of the front walkway and leaves scattered across the lawn in mushy browns and orange-reds.

It's not as nice as Steve's place is.

Was.

Whatever.

Steve blinks, shakes himself fully awake; feels a jolt of fear at the idea that he just drove here in some kind of fugue state because he doesn't know what he's doing here. Tommy left for college, and fuck Tommy, anyway.

He pulls up to the house. Slows the car to a crawl.

It's dark inside, all the lights turned off except for a single table lamp in the entryway window; shaped like a sea turtle, its belly full of blue-green light. Mrs. H. loves the sea.

He wonders if they're out of town or if they're just asleep.

The Hagans go to bed early, he remembers. He spent so many nights talking in a hush in Tommy's room; 8:45pm and they'd be lying side by side on the floor beside his bed, reading comic books or sports mags and whispering about nothing. Tommy'd always thank Steve for coming over because he knew his house was a little boring; he was the kid with old parents who went to bed early and kept the radio turned down and wouldn't let them have sugary snacks even on the weekends. Steve would always just knock their shoulders together and smile 'don't mention it' because he'd hang out with Tommy anywhere.

"Anywhere?" "Yeah, anywhere." "What about in a cave?" "Sure." "Under a bridge?" "Don't see why not." "In the belly of a whale?" "Now you're just being dumb." "Am not!" "Are, too." "Oh, yeah? Well- shut up!"

That was usually the part where they got in trouble for making noise, caught red-faced and laughing while they wrestled on the floor.

There's warmth in his chest at the memory, and that part, he expects.

But also...

Something about it makes heat flare in his gut, shameful and feverish as it flashes through his mind: the phantom press of Tommy above him as he pinned his shoulders down; the way the flush on his cheeks made Tommy's freckles pop; the breathless smile he gave, so close their noses almost brushed...

A light turns turns on in the Hagans' hall.

Steve hits the gas.

He drives for a long while, feeling like an asshole for burning through their precious gas money, but too— too something to fully care. He's alone on a highway with dark pastures blowing by, with the heat on and windows down, and he's circling back toward home when Bruce Springsteen starts to play, all croaky static over the spotty radio.

Born down in a dead man's town. The first kick I took was when I hit the ground.

Steve cranks it up and sings along. The song is cheesy, and he feels stupid, but he also feels free. Like there was a shackle around his throat and he didn't notice until it was gone. He shouts along to the chorus and then just shouts in general; long, guttural screams that feel like poison being purged. Tommy, his dad, the Russians, his mom. All of it, all of it spewing out of him into the cold night air.

He misses Carol suddenly. Her acidic attitude. The way it always ate through the worst of his sullen moods.

He can picture her now: perched on someone's lap in the crowded backseat, no seatbelt, manicured hand braced on the ceiling. She'd be smacking bubblegum and twirling a lock of her hair, and she'd roll her eyes at Steve's dramatics and ask whether he was done untwisting his panties yet. Steve would say something dumb and pervy in response, like, "Too busy dealing with girls' panties to focus on my own," and she'd roll her eyes harder and go, "God, you're fucking gross."

Carol's not here, though, so he just screams about her, too.

When he get back to Forest Hills his voice is hoarse. His body is tired; his soul is light. He's thinking, like: maybe he'll be okay. He'll channel his inner Claudia or Joyce and soldier on. Resilience, and all that shit.

He's almost smiling to himself when he turns into the park.

And then he sees the flashing lights.

There's an ambulance on his lot.

—

part 9

just gonna start tagging whoever commented the day before (if your settings will let me) bc i have the memory of a goldfish @a-little-unsteddie @slowandsteddie @pennyplainknits @thesuninyaface @hotluncheddie @messrs-weasley @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @blackpanzy @disrespectedgoatman @i-have-three-feelings @sirsnacksalot @estrellami-1 @manda-panda-monium

[alchemistc]

swing for the fences

He's already fucked up enough dates with his drama, he's thinking to himself as he sips his wine, and god, yeah, it's absolutely great that Tommy clocked the mood change bringing up Bobby caused, but Buck - he sort of just wants a moment in this, in this new thing that sort of turned his world upside down in the best way.

So. He lobs a softball, straight down the middle, throws out an easy daddy issues one liner, because he knows a little more about Tommy than he did a few weeks ago, knows he's got a quick mind and excellent timing and maybe he's fishing, just a little. There's been hints of it -- the dynamic that could evolve, if the right circumstances were met.

It's low hanging fruit, and Buck knows it. But Tommy doesn't swing, lets it fly right into the catchers mitt behind him, so Buck goes for a slider. Or maybe it's a knuckleball - he's mixing metaphors and the point is Tommy is an excellent flirt and Buck would like to be flirted with, please and thank you.

"But you think I do?"

There's a flash of a moment (sixty feet, six inches from mound to home plate) where Buck thinks it might be another swing and a miss. Tommy's eyes catch his --not that they've been off of him much for most of the evening, (god he's drowning in the prolonged eye-contact)-- and then, deadpan, Clack-Boom, knock it out of the fucking park --

"God I hope so."

Buck hadn't actually been sure if that was a thing he was into, but -- Jesus, yeah, yep, he's into it. It's a fight not to squirm in his seat, and Tommy clocks it, easy.

"Touch 'em all time," Buck murmurs, under his breath, thrown back to the radio calls he'd listened to in the Jeep on his drives through the mountains, the summer he spent in Colorado. Tommy quirks a brow.

"It's -- it's a baseball -- you sorta have to be in my head to get --." But he explains anyway, because for some unknown reason his filter goes from leaky to absolutely obliterated in Tommy's presence, and he's also desperately into the way Tommy looks at him when he's on a tangent -- intent, focused, like he's cataloging the questions he's gonna ask once Buck slows down the train.

Halfway through his convoluted explanation about home run calls and living west of the divide and ranch hand duties and then looping right back around to his murky metaphor for the way Tommy flirts and how it makes his heart beat out of his chest and his femoral artery throb in his thigh (Tommy grins, wide, pleased, eyes going a little dark even though it's the most ridiculous way to say he's hard up and hot for him) Tommy leans back, hooks his foot around Buck's ankle and rests it there, just a steady pressure.

"I have so many questions, but the most pressing one right now is do you have pictures of the ranch hand summer?"

Buck grins, and presses the meat of his calf back into Tommy's toes.

[krazyyyyyy]

A Time to Remember Solivan Brugmansia/Reader

Synopsis: Taking a break from school, you and Sol make a small trip out to your childhood home.

Warnings: Slight mentions of alcohol

Words: 3546

“Are you sure we’re not lost?” Sol asks from where he sits in the passenger seat of his car, staring out the window at the vast fields surrounding the single road that seems to stretch on for miles.

“Lost? Of course not! We should be there any second now.” You reply with eyes focused on the road and fingers tapping excitedly on the steering wheel.

You were on your way toward your childhood home, and you couldn’t possibly be any more excited. It had been far too long since you’d been able to feel the comfort and tranquility that the farmhouse brought you. To say you missed it would’ve been an understatement.

Sol had tagged along with you on the short trip, showing much eagerness towards meeting your father and visiting the home in which you had grown up, so many years ago. But, if not for you, you think he mainly tagged along to see the horses that were kept in the barn house, which you had known to be one of his favorite animals.

For the majority of the ride, you and Sol talked endlessly; although it had mostly been you talking of your childhood and how life on the farm was, while Sol would simply listen intently and watch you with amusement glittering in his eyes. Throughout the whole ride, Sol’s eyes never wandered away from you; even when silence filled the car. Sol would take the time to admire everything about you. From your smile to the very way you held on to the steering wheel, he thought every single aspect of you was nothing short of perfect.

You spoke your words truthfully, as it wasn’t long before a small ranch came into view, encircled by fields occupied with livestock and crops. The sight never failed to amaze you, reminding you of the hours you would spend running through the fields when you were younger, without a single worry in the world. Unfortunately, you couldn’t say the same now, as you now had to carry the burden of determining the fate of the farm you held so close to your heart.

“We’re here!” You exclaimed excitedly, pulling into the driveway in front of the farmhouse. You were quick to exit the vehicle once you parked, to admire your old home in front of you, filling you with nostalgia. Sol followed soon after, standing next to you, also taking in the exterior of the farmhouse, a smile painted on his face.

The sudden sound of the front door opening interrupts your sightseeing. At the front door was a visibly agitated man who held a shotgun in his hands as he yelled out at what he originally assumed to be trespassers. 

“I’ll give y'all scumbags till the count of three to–” He cuts himself off in disbelief once he recognizes one of the two faces that stood in the middle of his driveway.

“Y/N?” He asks, almost as if he couldn’t believe the sight in front of him. 

“Hi Dad…” You smile at your father, feeling a bit embarrassed by his sudden outburst, with Sol standing next to you; at least his first meeting with your father would be one to remember.

Without another word, your father very dangerously lets his shotgun fall to the ground, to race down the steps and pull you into a tight hug. It was a hug you had longed for ever since you left home to live in the city years ago. You had always been close to your father, without your mother and no siblings in the picture, he was the only person you really had growing up.

After a few moments, your father releases you from the hug, but he keeps his hand firmly planted on your shoulders to look at you with mixed emotions glistening in his eyes.

“I can’t believe you're here!” he says, voice heavy with emotion, “I’ve missed you, Kiddo.” 

You can’t help but smile tearfully,“ I missed you too, Dad.”. 

Your father's eyes then shifted to Sol, who stood back some to give some space for you and your father’s reunion. Your father looked the man up and down, his gaze suspicious of the stranger, “Who’s your friend here?” He asks, skeptical of the man before him.

Before you could speak, Sol steps toward your father with his hand extended,“ My name is Solivan Brugmansia, Sir. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

You hold your breath as your father continues to observe the boy with a scrutinizing glare before he takes the extended hand and gives it a subtle shake. “Pleasures all mine, any friend of Y/N is a welcomed guest here.”

Relief floods through you as the tension starts to somewhat subside between the two men. Your father has always been rather protective of you, especially with men that came in and out of your life, but you were grateful to see your father be sort of accepting toward Sol. Even if you knew he had his doubts.

Turning back to you, your father draped an arm over your shoulder and led you toward the front door of the house, Sol following close behind you two. You felt at ease being home at last with two of your favorite people. Maybe, just maybe, you would forget about the difficulties of life for a while and just enjoy the moment of peace you were gifted with.

~

The farmhouse had been just like how you’d remembered it all those years ago, which wasn’t surprising to you, as your father tended to avoid change whenever possible. While your father situated himself in the kitchen, preparing lunch for the three of you; you and Sol were in the living room, sitting on the loveseat seat, attention drawn to the TV in front of you.

“Beautiful…” You hear Sol whisper from next to you. Turning your head to look at him, you glance at the framed photograph he held in his hands. It was an old photo of you from high school posing with a majestic chestnut-coated mare. “Oh, that's Persephone! She is a beauty, isn't she?” you speak out cheerfully. Sol nodded his head slightly, “She is…but I was talking about you.” The last part of his sentence was mumbled and quickly spoken, so naturally you couldn’t make out what he said.

“What did you say?”

“I-”

“Lunch is ready! Your father's voice echoed from the kitchen. Sol lets out a huff of frustration at the ill-timed interruption but gets up from his seat nonetheless. He extends his hand out toward you, which you take gratefully. He pulls you up effortlessly from where you sat on the loveseat and you both make your way to the kitchen where an aromatic home-cooked meal awaits you. 

~

After a quiet and peaceful lunch, your father excused himself to focus on some repairs he had to make on the chicken coop fencing, which left you and Sol to your own devices for the time being. 

You were thrilled at the opportunity to show Sol around the farm, and from what you could tell, everything was almost exactly the way it was when you left.

Walking through the familiar paths of the farm, you point out various items from your childhood. From the swing, your father built for you on your favorite oak tree, to the pond where you learned to fish with your grandfather; everything with its own special meaning to you. Sol nodded along, attention solely drawn to the everlasting smile on your face as you went on explaining down to the last detail of the farm to him. 

Approaching the barn area, you introduced Sol to the variety of farm animals that resided there. You couldn’t help but notice how at ease Sol was with the animals, almost like he had a natural affinity for them, handling each of them with gentle touches and a tranquil demeanor. The pigs would oink happily as he tossed them a bit of corn, and even the usually jumpy goats would allow him to scratch behind their ears without protest. It had been a sight that truly warmed your heart.

After being properly introduced to all the animals in the barn, you left the barn to walk toward a fenced-in open field. Sol’s eyes lit up once he spotted the majestic animal that trotted freely in the open field without a care in the world. In the field was the beautiful steed that he had seen before in the picture, Persephone. 

He approached the fence to look at her in amazement, with his love for horses this may have been the first time he’d actually seen one in person. Wrapping your lips around your fingers, you let out a loud whistle, which gains the attention of the horse, who curiously makes her way toward the two of you.

As she approaches, Sol holds out his hand, palm open in a gesture of trust to the giant creature before him. Persephone in her curious nature cranes her neck to sniff the extended hand, studying the scent of the newcomer. After a few moments of hesitation, the horse nuzzles into the outstretched hand with her soft snout.

You watch as a smile appears on Sol’s face, his eyes shining with childlike joy as he gently strokes Persephone’s muzzle. They just met, but there was an obvious bond formed between the man and the gentle beast that couldn’t be described in words.

Without looking away from the horse, Sol spoke breathlessly, “She’s incredible…”. You smiled at his incredulity, “I told you so.” and after watching them for a few more moments, a sudden idea dawned on you. “You wanna take her for a ride? I’m sure she’ll be more than willing to, with how much she likes you.”

Sol finally tears his gaze away from Persephone to look at you, “.. Are you sure?”

“Of course!”

After getting Persephone properly equipped with her saddle, Sol was able to get on her back easily with the help of his height. He was a bit shaky, but you didn’t know if it was from the fear or the excitement…or maybe it was a mix of both. He held on to the reigns for dear life, as you slowly led Persephone around the fence to allow Sol to get used to the feeling.

After a while, you finally let go of the lead to let Sol have full control of the steed. He started rather clumsily, but it didn’t take long before he fully got the hang of it and started to ride with ease. You happily watched Sol thoroughly enjoy himself, setting Persephone into a slow gallop in circles along the fence.

He rode on for a while before pulling on the reigns, bringing Persephone to a complete stop. You held out your hand to him to help him safely get off the horse. He grabbed onto it tightly, carefully sliding off the saddle and attempting to land firmly on the ground. As he dismounted, his legs wobbled with the unfamiliar sensation that came with horse riding, before they gave out from underneath him; causing him to fall down into the grass, pulling you along with him.

Luckily, the grass cushioned your fall, and before you could ask Sol if he was all right, his outburst of laughter interrupted you. He lies on the ground next to you, laughing like you’ve never heard him laugh before. It wasn’t long until you joined him in laughter, and it went on for a while, the two of you lying in the grass, laughing like you two were children again.

As your laughter dies down, you both quietly lay there, staring up at the sky above, enjoying each other's company.

 Sol then breaks the silence, turning his head to look at you affectionately, “Thank you Y/N… for everything”

You laugh, “You don’t have to thank me… I’m just happy that you're here and having fun.” Delicately, you feel Sol gently intertwine his fingers with yours as they rest on the soft bed of grass.

Lost in the moment, you barely hear your father calling your name from the other side of the farm. Eventually, his calls got closer to the point where they couldn’t be ignored.

“Y/N!”, Quickly sitting up, you look over to where your father stood merely a couple of feet away from where you sat. You remain unaware of, just how quickly, you had unraveled your fingers from Sol’s; leaving his hand barren, save for the lingering warmth that emanated from your touch.

“Dad?! What are you doing out here?!” You cry out to your father, who looks at you somewhat displeased.

“Well, I just finished dinner, and neither of you were in the house. So naturally I assumed you to be out here somewhere…seems I was right.” His remained firmly on you, seemingly ignoring the existence of the man next to you entirely.

Had you really been out here for that long? You swore it had only been an hour at most… “Sorry Dad, Sol took Persephone out for a ride… I guess we lost track of time”

Your father’s expression softens slightly, “It’s alright, but let's get you inside, dinner is getting cold.” You nod, before leaving the softness of the grass below you to stand; you wait for Sol to also retreat from his spot before the three of you make your way back to the house.

~

Unlike lunch, your father stuck around to eat dinner with you and Sol and properly catch up with you after so many years apart. You answered his back-and-forth questions about school and if you were taking care of yourself; all while Sol sat by your side eating his meal quietly.

For the second time that day, your father acknowledged the man sitting next to you, “Solivan, was it? I’m assuming you're also a university student.”

Sol stood up straight in his chair, galvanized at your father's sudden attempt to make small talk with him. “That’s right.” 

The older man's icy cold gaze bore into Sol’s, almost as if he was trying to stare right into his very soul, “And what is your major, Boy?”. You pinch the bridge of your nose in annoyance at your father’s behavior. You guess it was too much to ask for one peaceful dinner.

“I am an art major.” Sol stuttered, nearly faltering under the intense gaze he had so unfortunately been placed under.

“Art major? That’s a fine choice…if you want to live a life of poverty–” “Dad! Stop!!” Whether your father was testing Sol’s resilience or sanity; he was pushing it too far, he hasn’t even tried to get to know the true Sol.

A wave of chills is sent down your spine as your father shifts his cold gaze to you, “Is this what you’ve been up to the whole time you’ve been gone?” He refers briefly to Sol, “Do you even care what happens to this place? To the farm?”

You wondered how things escalated to this, everything was just fine seconds ago. What changed? Your question is quickly answered when you catch a glimpse of the beer can that your father clutched in his hand like a lifeline.

Oh…

You knew he picked up his drinking habit not long after that debt collected, and paid you two a visit, but never thought he’d let it consume him like this.

“Dad, It hasn’t been easy, but I'm trying my best, I swear…” Your voice trembled as you pleaded with your father.

He scoffed, taking a large gulp, from the beer can “Trying your best? Is that what you call this? Running off to that dumbass university to have fun with lover boy here, all while the farm falls apart? 

You flinched at the accusation, and your eyes started to well with tears. That had been a hard blow, considering all that you were putting yourself through just so that your childhood farm wouldn't go to the likes of some heartless debt collectors. 

Sol is, of course, quick to come to your aid; abruptly standing up from his chair to give your father a piece of his mind. He did his best to make a good first impression on your father, but that went flying out the window once he saw that shattered look on your face.

Before, a word could even leave his lips, the sound of something falling to the wooden floor halted him. When he turns his head to look at where you once sat, he is met only with a tipped-over wooden chair and a fleeting glimpse of your figure disappearing down the hallway.

Sol was quick to follow you, leaving behind the older man who had buried his face in his hands as he broke into a sob, whispering to himself over and over.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N…”

~

As Sol made his way out of the farmhouse, he looked around for any sight of you, which unfortunately you were nowhere in sight. This worried him to the core, where could you have gone?

He looked from the chicken coop to your favorite oak tree with absolutely no signs of you. The night only grew darker, with only the moon to illuminate the path laid out before him.

He nearly gave up, until the abrupt sound of numerous “baa’s” rang out into the quiet night. Glancing over at the goat enclosure; he noticed a couple of the goat's heads were tilted upwards toward the roof of their shelter, as if something was of great interest to them up there.

Sol used some nearby barrels to carefully maneuver his way onto the roof of the goat pen. Upon safely making it, strained his eyes against the darkness to scan the area of the roof.

His heart soared with relief once he saw the familiar sight of your figure sitting in the near center of the sturdy roof with your knees folded to your chest, as you looked onward into the vastness of the forest.

Sol takes a seat next to you so that you are sitting shoulder to shoulder., looking you over with concern. “Hey, you okay?” He speaks, his voice barely above a whisper; a sound soothing to nerves.

“… Yeah, I'm okay.,” You respond, burying your face deeper into your knees. “I’m sorry Sol… for what my Dad said, he’s usually so much better than this.”. You were brimming with guilt, with everything that went down with your father, and Sol had to bear witness to it all.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, it's not your responsibility to control his actions.” His tone was full of understanding and care. At that moment, there was nothing, Sol wanted nothing more than to alleviate the pain and guilt that burdened you.

You finally lift your head from your knees to meet that mesmerizing amber gaze that you’ve come to love so much; something about them always made you feel safe and dare say even loved…

As you lifted your head, Sol gently enveloped your face in his hands, wiping away any lingering tears that strayed on your cheeks with his soft thumbs; all while he kept his eyes locked on yours as if in a dreamlike daze. His touch was filled with tenderness, and you couldn’t help but lean into his palm, relishing in the comforting warmth it brought.

“Thank you…“ You whispered, as your gaze refused to waver from his; barely noticing the amount of distance you closed between the two of you. Unspoken tension lingered in the air; both of you were caught in the middle of a silent conflict of feelings and desires that only left you wanting more.

“Always.” He responds, eyes filled with longing

No more words were shared, as Sol closed the gap between you until his lips softly met yours in a light kiss. The kiss may have been short and gentle, but it spoke millions of words and future promises that made your heart ache for more.

After you broke apart, you two smiled at each other like the love-sick-driven fools you were for each other. Even though you felt a thousand times better, you’d rather fall off the roof of this pen than face your father again. Thankfully, Sol showed no interest in leaving from his spot next to you; likely, sharing your current mindset.

And stay you did. Laying down on the metal roof, with your fingers intertwined just like they had been hours ago; you two stayed up there til the sun started to rise over the tree line. Although, this trip hadn't been what you originally hoped it would be; the man next to you made the whole thing worthwhile.

As the warmth of sunlight started to kiss the landscape of the farm, you spared a final glance at the man you lay next to. He had his eyes closed with a relaxed smile on his face, yet his grasp on your hand remained unyielding. He looked saintly under the hue of the sun, outlining all of his regal features.

Even with all the turmoil that transpired last night between you and your father, you knew you wouldn’t change a single thing if it meant it led you directly to this moment.

Notes: This took a hot minute to write, but overall I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. Hope you enjoyed it!

[cazzyf1]

pls tell me everything you know about the 1982 drivers strike i think about it often

Right I about to go into as much detail as possible about the driver's strike while hopefully keeping it comprehensible.

*cracks knuckles*

Let's go.

So to give some overall context to the situation, Bernie Ecclestone was doing some meddling. He had control over the Formula One Constructors Association (FOCA) which meant he could negotiate contracts between teams, track owners, television rights, etc. Realising the sort of power Bernie Ecclestone was getting, the Federation Internationale de I'Automobile (FIA) put Jean-Marie Balestre in charge. There was a big power struggle between these two however both Ecclestone and Balestre united against the drivers in 1982.

At the start of the 1982 season, a new license called a 'super license' was put forward for the drivers to sign. This license was based on other sports, like football's transfer systems, meaning the drivers had fewer rights - their team owners essentially owned them. For example, the super licence meant a team could keep drivers to one team for up to three years, even if the drivers wanted to leave. This happened after, in 1981, Alain Prost was racing for McLaren, and he became convinced that the car wasn't safe. He refused to drive for the team, though he had a contract. He said if necessary, he would walk away from the sport altogether. Then Renault approached Alain Prost, and he joined them. A new license was created to prevent this situation from happening again.

1982 was also the season that (at the time) 2x World Champion Niki Lauda decided to come out of retirement. In 1979 he had been racing for Bernie Ecclestone's team 'Brabham', but halfway through the season, he walked away, finding no more interest in the sport. Eventually Ron Dennis, who ran the team 'Mclaren' tempted Niki back into the sport.

Niki was sent the super license a few days before the start of the season to sign, and being a stickler for detail he made sure to read through all of it. In reading it, Niki realised the control the team owners would have over the drivers and did not approve of it. Quickly, he rang up Didier Pironi who was head of the drivers association, to talk him through what he had found. Didier agreed that these licenses were bad and then called all the other drivers, telling them not to sign the licence. They had been late though, as 24 had technically already signed as they hadn't properly read the licence. The only ones that hadn't were Lauda, Pironi, Villeneuve who had seen something similar in ice hockey and didn't like it, Arnoux, Giacomelli and de Cesaris.

In South Africa, Kyalami the track was prepared for the drivers to start practising, and the drivers were arriving in their normal cars. But before they could get out on track, a bus pulled up with Niki Lauda and Pironi in it. Without their knowledge, Niki and Didier had managed to borrow a bus from Trevor Rowe and were ready to take the drivers back to their hotel at the Kyalami Ranch. They rounded up all the drivers and told them of their plans, and while they were hesitant, eventually, most of them were convinced to get onto the bus. Only two didn't. Jochen Mass, who was late (He's always late, someone said) and Jacky Ickx.

The team owner of March, John McDonald, caught wind of what was happening and tried to prevent the bus from leaving by parking a van in front of the bus. Jacques Laffite got out of the bus to move the van, accidentally stalled it, but eventually got it out of the way. The bus then set off, taking the scenic route back to the Sunnyside Park Hotel while every news van and car chased after the bus, getting clips of Niki Lauda looking out the back of the bus and waving at them.

Eventually, they arrived, and all of them strutted past the journalists and went into the hotel. Thus ensued a fun time for the drivers relaxing around by the pool for the day. However, things back at the track were not shaping up well.

Bernie Ecclestone and Jean-Marie Balestre were pissed. The race organisers threatened to impound the cars, Bernie Ecclestone threatened to sue the drivers, and Balestre announced if the drivers didn't come back, then they would all be fired. Bernie Ecclestone had already fired the drivers from his team, Nelson Piquet and Riccardo Patrese. The mechanics put signs out joking advertising for new drivers. Didier Pironi was doing the main negotiations for the drivers at the track and reporting back to Niki Lauda at the hotel on how it was progressing. During the evening, when dinner was being served, the driver's wives and girlfriends, who were still at the track, started throwing bread rolls at Balestre.

Didier Pironi arrived at the hotel and explained that if they didn't return and drive immediately, they risked life bans. Niki Lauda realised that this strike would last the night, and he knew that if all the drivers returned to their own rooms, the team principles would easily be able to convince them to abandon the strike. They needed to stay united, which meant literally sticking together. He arranged to take over the conference room in the hotel and have all the spare mattresses brought into the room.

All the drivers moved into this one big room, and soon, the entertainment started. Many of the younger drivers felt quite panicked about the whole situation, worried that they would be fired for going on strike, which would have ended any career in motorsports, so they went to the older drivers like Niki for reassurance. Niki tried to lighten up the atmosphere by telling dirty jokes. Bruno Giacomelli, who was quite passionate about machine guns, got his hands on a chart and gave a presentation on how to take a gun to bits. There was also a piano in the room, and driver Elio de Angelis, trained to play the piano, performed for all the drivers. Everyone there said it was the most beautiful playing they had ever heard. Gilles Villeneuve also had a go playing a few joyful pieces.

The team owners and journalists had by now discovered that all the drivers were hiding out in this one big room, and they were trying to get in. At first, Niki gave an interview by the door, but he ensured no one would leave the room. One of the team principles, Mo Nunn of Ensign, had brought the driver, Guerrero's girlfriend, along as a bargaining trip. Niki made sure to accompany Guerrero to see his girlfriend. He said that the situation could have brought a tear to your eye. Eventually, they got the girlfriend away from the team principal and into the room. Team principal Jean Sage of Renault tried to get to Prost and Arnoux but was beaten off.

At this point, the team principals grew frustrated and decided to break into the room, so the drivers had to use the piano to barricade the door.

Then night came, and it was time for the drivers to get even closer. There were not enough mattresses for one each, meaning all the drivers had to bunk up. Many funny photographs have come from this event. Alain Prost and Giles Villeneuve shared a mattress, which led to Patrick Tambay saying if a child came from this, all the others might as well give up.

There was a problem with the toilet as there was only one and it wasn't in the room. There was a key to the toilet and so the drivers agreed to leave it in the middle of the room so they would know if someone left to the toilet and didn't come back. One driver, Fabi, ended up going to the toilet but did not come back.

During the night, Carlos Reuntemann or Keke Rosberg snored so loudly that Gilles Villeneuve threw a blanket over them to cover the sound.

In the morning, all the drivers got up, trying hard not to sniff the odour of the room and got ready to head to the track as Didier Pironi had been able to successfully negotiate a licence they were happy with. No drivers were fired, Nelson Piquet and Riccardo Paterese were rehired, and the race was successful. There were fears that the drivers could be arrested at the airport, but thankfully, that didn't happen. Instead, they were fined for taking part in the strike, which, while it didn't affect some drivers who already had plenty of money, it wasn't ideal for the drivers who were just getting started.

This is as much as I am able to remember; if you know anything more or if there is something wrong in this let me know in the comments below! Hope you enjoyed the read :)

[jakkkuu]

WILLOW CREEK CAFE + BAKERY

separated version

lot type - community lot/coffeeshop

size 40 x 30

furnished

Separate version of cafe without additional townhouses witch I used in previous build. I've changed layout and some of the interiors and colors - guessing that's looks way better. Add patio area and some parking lot that's fits Willow Creek street. Love that We can have a lot of fun mixing green color palette that all of my favourite costum content creators use. My favourite color to build ins Sims 4.

Gallery id: JakkuuSim

Tray file on my patreon page

Full list of costum content:

Pierisim cc:

domaine du clos

mcm

oak house

coldbrew

woodland ranch

livingroom mini kit

david’s apartment

pantry party

the office mini kit

combles

stefan

Hey_Harrie cc:

re-color of bougainvillea

coastal

country

klean

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Love,

JakkuuSim

[alittlebitofloveliness]

The last time Dally was having a week this bad he was eleven years old and fresh out of juvie, running from New York with nothing but the clothes on his back and three dollars his sister gave him instead of any sort of proper goodbye.

Shoot, but he’d thought he left that all behind, coming to rodeo country from brooklyn had felt like a retirement of sorts, and he’d gotten half used to the quiet, even if the itch under his skin sometimes still had him wishing there was blogger trouble to get into than tussling with Shepard or baiting some soc into a fight.

Still, that didn’t mean he wanted to end up in another murder wrap. Then again, he probably could have dealt with it a whole lot better if it had been anyone else who’d done it. If Tim had shown up at his place, cool but just a little less collected than usual, Dally would have grabbed a bag of salt and a shovel and driven with him into the backwoods to dump the body without having to think twice. If Darry or Two, or hell even Sodapop had showed up at his door he could have given them a lot better advice than to run a few towns over and hide out in a busted out church. 

But it wasn’t anyone else. It was the kids. Of course it was. 

He knows he’ll never forget it, the way Johnny had looked holding that knife, dried blood like scales on the back of his hand and soaked into the cuff of the jacket Dally had given him a year ago, a look in his eyes Dally had only ever seen once before, years ago, in a different face in a different life. It wasn’t fear, wasn’t anger, wasn’t even really panic- it was exhaustion, plain and simple. The type of bone deep resignation that came with being so beaten down and broken that when someone finally snapped they couldn’t even find themselves to be surprised by it. That look in Johnny’s eyes- just a year younger than him, but somehow so much older and younger at the same time- had haunted Dallas ever night for the past week, stealing the scant minutes he’d managed to set aside to sleep, as those soulful, empty eyes rose in his subconsciousness, staring at him for hours in the darkness.

Then there was Ponyboy, small for fourteen and even smaller shivering in the darkness, eyes wide in his peaked pale face, terrified and naive and stupid. 

What was Dally supposed to do? The kid had been so pissed he wouldn’t have gone home to Darry even if he’d begged on bended knee, especially if he’d suggested hiding Johnny anyway. The whole gang knew Pony worshiped the ground Johnny walked on and hardly seemed to realize it. 

So he’d sent them, the broken one and the baby, a few towns over with 50 bucks and bullshit he could pass off as advice instead of half crocked wishful thinking, and had paid the price for such an idiotic rash decision ten times over. He’d deserved the cracked rib Darry had given him when he found out about the whole thing, especially since he still hadn’t let slip where the kids are. He hadn’t deserved Steve’s icy silence, but he’d taken it with as much grace as he could muster anyway. Steve had already lost a lot in his life, and it was no secret Pony was a favourite of his even though he worked too hard to hide it. Dally could take a little bit of heat if that’s what it took to stop Steve from following Soda into full raving lunacy.

At least the benefit of his shitty advice is this: the kids are still close enough to reach, close enough for him or any of the rest of the gang to get to if they need to, at least for the moment. Not for long though- his selfish desire to keep them close can’t last much longer, he knows. He’s been planning, fund them a half safe route across the border that’ll keep them out of trouble until the whole thing dies down. 

For now though, he parks Buck’s shitty car down a dirt road thats barely more than tire tracks in worn down earth, and starts walking, the church on Jay mountain looking a bit more decrepit than it had the summer he spent out here a few years back working as a ranch hand. 

As he draws closer he notes the broken windows and missing boards and soft part of him, the part that knows he loves these fucking dumbass kids as much as he wishes he didn’t, hopes they weren’t too cold these past few nights.

He banishes the thought from his mind, instead letting out a long low whistle followed by a sharper, higher note, the one Tim’s gang uses to communicate with each other, but that Johnny knows because he spends enough time around Shepard territory to be half decent buddies with some of the younger guys in that gang.

Sure enough, as he rounds the hill a familiar head of jet black hair peers around the side of the church, breaking into a grin at the sight of him, and Dally’s traitorous heart leaps, relief a better upper than Tim’s good coke.

“Hey Dal!”

“Heya Johnnykid,” he can’t help the urge to reach out and ruffle the guy’s hair, especially since it been hacked off in a poor approximation of any sort of haircut, “geez, what’d you do to your hair, huh? Let Pony attack you with scissors, in the dark, blindfolded?”

“Shut up,” Johnny shoves at him halfheartedly, “I thought it’d be a good way to disguise ourselves.”

“Well it's true no one’ll mistake you for a murderer but they’ll take one look and think you escaped the looney bin.”

The kid winces a bit at the word murderer and he immediately feels bad, even though there isn’t much he can do to take it back now, is there?

“Where’s the kid?” He changes the subject, “I figured he’d be tearing down the hill the second he heard me whistle?”

“Inside,” Johnny jerks his head towards the church, leading Dally through the half rotted doorway.

Inside is as dingy and gross as Dally remembers from the one time he came to scope the place out before. The pews are rotted to the point it looks like if anyone older than three tried to sit on them they’d fall right through, and the concrete floor is so covered in dirt it's nearly black.

All of this ceases to matter of course, when Dally spots Ponyboy’s thin frame curled up in the corner, eyes closed, face white as a sheet. If he weren’t trembling ever so slightly, Dally would swear he was dead.

“Jesus,” he hisses, and Johnny nearly flinches, “what the fuck is wrong with him?”

“Nic sick,” Johnny sighs, shaking his head, and for a second he looks so much like Darry Curtis its comical, “I told him to cool it with the cigarettes but he didn’t listen.”

Dally sighs. No wonder he couldn’t bring himself to give them a proper escape plan a week ago. Six days in and Ponyboy’s smoked himself into a stupor, meanwhile Johnny’s lost about three pounds and whatever remained of his innocence.

Whatever. He’s here now. That’s what matters.

“Glory,” he says to Johnny, nudging the tip of his boot into Pony’s side, “he looks different with his hair like that.”

Ponyboy’s green eyes snap open.

The story continues.

[i-heart-yellowstone]

John Dutton with wife reader. Him being in such a mood that even his children start to tease him and her joining in. Anything at all. Fluff/suggestive. Up to you. Thanks!! :))

With prompts; "Are you really this happy 24/7?"

"Are you really this grumpy 24/7?"

"Are you really this happy 24/7?"

Tags [ @kmc1989 @tallrock35 @pear-1206

Exiting through the front door I joined my husband on the old wooden porch swing that overlooked the main part of the property we called our home. He moved one of his arms and laid it back down over my shoulder once I had taken my spot right by his side.

The sounds of nature were the only things we could hear for once. There weren't any of his adult kids running to complain about something or him having to rush off to fight someone who wanted to take the land from us.

I thought we could live in this peaceful moment forever- unfortunately that isn’t the case when it comes to Beth Dutton.

Her car quickly came down the gravel and dust driveway where she parked at the end of the steps. She slammed her car door walking up to the porch seeing me and her father sitting on the swing. “Are you really this happy 24/7?" She bluntly asked the two of us.

I began choking on the coffee I was drinking from one of the kitchen mugs, not expecting that to come from her mouth. “What! Why would you ask that?”

“Beth, I’m allowed to be happy with another woman.” Her father John remarked back at his only daughter.

His only daughter wasn’t exactly happy when he had brought me to the ranch a couple of times for our dates. And she especially wasn’t happy when we had gotten married a year later. I knew why though, it was because I wasn’t her mother. To her I was he step-mother.

We had done our best to be nice to one another but apparently she hadn’t fully accepted that her father could be happy with another woman just yet and we’ve been married for almost five years now.

Beth crossed her arms over her chest. “Come on, daddy. I mean you can’t really be happy all the time with her.”

“Beth!” John grumbled running a frustrated hand down his face.

I held my coffee mug in both hands, nudging my husband with my elbow in a joking manner. “Oh come on, John. You don’t have to fake being happy with me.”

“Y/n, I’m not faking it.” John shifted on his side of the porch swing so that he was directly facing me.

I tilted my head to the side knowing I could tease him for a little longer before he would figure out that I was entirely joking with the love of my life. “Are you sure? I mean I doubt I’m anything like Evelyn was in bed.”

“My mom popped out four kids in total. How many kids do you want to give birth to Y/n?” Beth asked, flipping her hair out of her eyes. “I’m going to get you someone better.”

John rolled his eyes, sitting his coffee mug down on the side table with frustration in his tone. “Beth, that's too far. Okay. I’m married to Y/n and you’re just going to have to accept it.”

“It’s going to happen, daddy.” She smirked in my direction.

Leaning back in the porch swing I almost couldn’t contain my laughter. “Oh god.”

“This whole man-to-man shit thing we got going is becoming a little ridiculous.” John shook his head wishing this would end.

His daughter spun on her heels walking up to the front door. “I’m on it.”

“Beth!”

She called back. “I got it.”

“Beth!” Her father shouted at her.

She shut the front door and hollering beforehand. “I’m totally on it!”

Once we were back alone together on the front porch I touched the side of his face making him look me in the eye. “Honey, I was just joking when I said I don’t enjoy being married to you.”

“But you said-“

I cut him chuckling lightly. “It was a lie, John. I was just trying to make your daughter happy. The only way I think she will like me is when she sees me start agreeing with her on some things.”

“Thank god.” He sighed heavily, slumping his shoulders in relief.

Resting one hand against the side of his face I felt him lean into my palm. “I can’t imagine being married to anyone else but you.”

“I didn’t realize that I was missing having a woman in my life until I saw your truck break down on the side of the road that morning.” He recalled causing a smile to grace my lips at the memory.

When I had gotten a flat tire on my truck right outside the Dutton fence line I thought I would have to call someone to tow me to a shop which would take hours until I saw a man around my age rode up to the fence on a horse wearing a white cowboy hat.

Leaning forward I kissed him slowly, moving my other hand behind his neck making the gentle kiss deeper until he broke it suggesting a common morning routine for us. “How do you feel about going for a ride?”

“Have you not met me? I would love nothing more.” Getting up from the swing I finished the last of my coffee, rushing towards the wooden stairs heading straight to the barn walking backward. Yelling with my hands cupped around my mouth. “Meet me at the barn. I’ll saddle the horses, just don’t forget my hat.”

John groaned getting to his feet, calling back. “You’re hat. I remember the white hat belonging to me when we met.”

“What’s mine is yours, honey!” I laughed with a cheerful grin.

He shook his head going to grab what we needed to ride our horses, truly treasuring the joy he felt once falling in love with you. “I love her. Let’s go to work.” It would take time for Beth to accept her father could be happy with someone else than her mother, but he wasn’t going to not live his life simply waiting for her approval.