#and dallas because he will be officiating

[kitnita]

nhl: have you hugged an otter today? 🦦

[wyattjohnston]

sorry to rangers fans but i’ve never been happier to see an official hawks tweet in my life

[pathologicalreid]

Hello, love your writing, can i request a oneshot for spencer Reid x wife!reader with the plot of the movie taken where she goes on a business trip or something and she gets taken and the team have to work against the clock to get her back. Had this idea for so long and thought you would be perfect to write it. Perfectly fine if you dont but im craving this story.

leave a message after the beep | S.R.

When you go missing under suspicious circumstances on a business trip, the BAU goes to Texas - and ends up in the middle of something bigger than anticipated.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: kidnapping, blood, guns, reader almost kills someone, hospitals, the securities and exchange commission, typical cm violence, texas, takes place maybe circa season 7 word count: 4.03k a/n: okay anon so like yes i can write this but also i've never seen the movie taken so really i took your request and made it my own! i hope you like it either way!

Tuesday, 2:17 p.m.

“Hey, Spence, it’s me. Shame I got your voicemail, but I just landed at Dallas Fort Worth and I’m waiting for my ride to take me to meet the regional officers. Not sure if you’re traveling, but uh, call me when you get this, I guess. Or when you can. Hopefully, this trip goes better than I think it’s going to… oh, I think my ride is here.”

Tuesday, 6:42 p.m.

“Hey babe, so, the first meeting went fine, they don’t seem very receptive, but people generally aren’t when I’m sent in to change their methods. Wish you’d pick up your phone. Anyway, I’m on my way to the hotel now, I’ll probably try you again before I go to bed. I know my updates are probably riveting.”

Tuesday, 8:09 p.m.

“Well, I’ve definitely stayed in nicer hotels than this one, but I guess I can’t complain about being put up for free. I’m probably just biased because the a/c unit is busted – oh, my room number is 316, I know you like to have it. I opened the windows to let air in but it’s so dry here that I’m not sure it’s helping any. I’ll shut them before I go to sleep, so don’t worry about that. Call me back, I miss you, don’t worry about waking me up. I think that’s all I’ve got, goodnight, I love you!”

There was a collective sigh in the roundtable room, five agents around the room all looked nervously at each other. No one wanted to be the first person to speak. No one wanted to be the first to propose a theory. “Where’s Spencer?” Emily asked, looking through the voicemail transcripts that were splayed out in front of her.

“In Hotch’s office, they’re talking,” Rossi said, eyeing the photo of you that was being projected up on the screen. Most of the time, Penelope just used driver’s license or passport photos in files, but for you, she had chosen a photo from the last BAU O’Keefe’s outing. Your skin was flushed and there was an odd shadow being cast on your face, but your smile was unmistakable.

The official files would have your driver’s license photo, but that picture was for the BAU. Seemingly unable to peel her eyes off of the screen, JJ asked the question that everyone was sitting on, “We’re on this case, right?”

It felt ridiculous, one of their own had gone missing in the middle of the night and they weren’t even sure if they had the jurisdiction to look into it. When no one answered, Morgan looked around the room, “The brass isn’t seriously going to try to tell us not to investigate.”

“No, they’re not,” Hotch said, suit jacket unbuttoned and fluttering behind him as he walked into the roundtable room with purpose. “We’ll debrief more on the plane, JJ and Garcia will stay here, the rest of us are headed to Dallas,” he instructed, nodding at everyone before turning around and walking out the door, the rest of the team following like ducks in a row.

On the jet, the traveling members of the team watched as Rossi held a cup of coffee out for Spencer to take, but the team's youngest member took a moment to even recognize that it was there, “Oh,” he mumbled, “thank you.” Blinking a haze from his eyes, he took the cup in his shaky hands.

A familiar concern flowed among Spencer’s teammates, they all watched as he twisted his wedding ring around his finger – a nervous habit that usually presented itself when he missed you. “Y/N’s boss is en route to Quantico to talk with JJ, the flight’s about three hours, we should get started,” Hotch was the one to speak up, herding the sheep in the correct direction while everything felt aimless.

With his legs tucked beneath himself, Spencer watched the team as they bounced back and forth in a discussion on what you were doing in Dallas and Penelope scoured through your recent communication.

“According to the voicemails and the hotel records, her room was on the third floor,” Emily spoke up, flipping through the file in front of her. “Do we have crime scene photos from the hotel room yet?”

On the video screen, Penelope shook her head, “CSI is still processing the scene, I have an inquiry in with them to send the photos as soon as they can.”

Checking his watch, Hotch looked over at Spencer, still sequestered on one side of the jet, “Make sure they keep the scene undisturbed for when we arrive. Dave and Morgan will meet with the sheriff at the hotel, and the rest of us will head to the precinct to set up.”

If Spencer wanted to be the one to investigate the crime scene, he didn’t protest his assignment, he just continued to spin that gold band on his finger. He didn’t notice the glances exchanged between the rest of his team; he could only think of you.

With the involvement of the BAU, the team had been redirected to the Dallas Field Office. “There was a hole torn in the window screen, the crime scene techs think that’s how they got inside,” Morgan announced to the team, they were all gathering in the conference room.

“On the third floor?” JJ questioned over video chat, she and Penelope sat right next to each other on the screen.

Rossi nodded, “We must be looking at a team. At least two, likely three UnSub’s in order to pull something like this off. They cut the camera feed and broke into the hotel room where she was staying – this was premeditated.”

It wasn’t difficult to deduce that being taken from the third floor of a hotel meant that you had been a target, but the evidence of a break-in settled like a boulder on Spencer’s chest. Someone had intended to take you. Someone had intended on grabbing you from your hotel room in the middle of the night – and they had succeeded.

“Is there any chance she forgot to close the windows when she went to sleep last night?” Emily looked over at Spencer, dark brows raised quizzically as she leaned over the table, skimming through the voicemail transcripts again.

Clenching his jaw, Spencer shook his head, recalling your promise to close the windows before the end of the night. “No, she’d never forget. She knows I worry,” although, after this, you’d never be able to chide him for worrying too much ever again. Sharing a knowing look with the brunette before him, “So, she’s been missing since last night, not this morning.”

The initial assumption had been that you’d disappeared at some point early in the morning, maybe on your way to your first meeting of the day, no one was entirely sure, but this confirmed that you had been missing for at least eight hours more than the first estimate.

A knock on the door garnered the attention of the team, each of them turning to see a field agent, “Uh, Ezra Buchmann is here to speak with you, he said he got a call from your tech girl.”

Hotch nodded succinctly, “That’s the co-worker who reported the case. Morgan, go see if he needs anything. Dave, let’s go check out the office building that Y/N had been working at.”

“Do you think she might’ve been caught up in something at work?” Spencer asked, following his team members with his eyes as they left the conference room.

The unit chief didn’t provide a forward answer, “I’d like to start checking off some possibilities. It’s been fourteen hours with no firm leads.” It wasn’t as optimistic as anyone had hoped, but Hotch shared a look with Emily before leaving the room.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Spencer turned to the evidence board, looking at the pictures of your hotel room, the water splashed around the rim of the bathroom sink, your phone charging on the bedside table, your wedding ring resting on the counter, and if he separated himself from the missing posters, he could almost convince himself that they were just random pictures. Almost.

Frowning at the blown-up images of partial fingerprints and a random CCTV shot from across the street, he recalled your voicemails. “I wasn’t busy,” he confessed to Emily. “When she called me, I wasn’t busy. I was doing other things, but I wasn’t too busy to answer the phone. I assumed that I’d have the chance to talk to her today,” he said, slightly leaning over the oak table, resting his fingerprints on the varnished surface in an attempt to keep himself standing.

Pursing her lips, Emily took a member for responding, “That’s not an outrageous assumption to make,” she tried to reason with a miserable man. “You’d never think something like this would happen.”

“Until it does,” Spencer continued. “We see it happen to people all the time, we’ve made a life of it, but I never thought it would happen to me. To her,” he maundered. If he had a dollar for every time he had heard the same sentiment from victim’s families, he’d never have to work another day in his life. “I did call her back when I got home last night,” he added, though, he wasn’t entirely sure who he was trying to reassure.

In an effort to comfort him, Emily reached out and patted his arm, “We will find her, Spencer.”

Dead or alive? He wanted to retort, but he bit his tongue, holding it in.

As a favor to him, in the hopes of providing him with some emotional respite, Emily had haggled with the field agent whose name was last on the chain of custody of your belongings. It wasn’t entirely proper for evidence to be released to family, but she offered to put her name on it in the interim.

She stayed with Spencer in the conference room, letting him keep your things nearby as she spoke with JJ and went through the information that had been acquired back at Quantico. The team now had your performance reviews at work and, according to JJ, your boss couldn’t say enough good things about you. While it was nice to hear, it didn’t bring them any closer to finding where you were.

Tracing the woodgrain of the table with his fingertips, Spencer eventually tuned the phone call out, instead wondering at what point he was obligated to call your parents. He was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice your phone was ringing in the evidence bag before him until Prentiss tapped him on the shoulder.

It was an unknown number, but that was a barrier easily blocked by Garcia with a quick search. The rest of the team watched as she blanched on the screen, “Uh, you might want to answer that.”

“Garcia, who is it?” Hotch asked, a hardened look on his face as he looked from the screen to the buzzing cellphone.

JJ frowned at Penelope’s monitor as if she couldn’t believe what she was reading, “It’s the SEC,” she responded.

Swiftly, Hotch answered the phone call, turning on speakerphone so the rest of the team could hear, “Hello.”

“Hello, may I speak with Mrs. Reid?” A male voice came through the receiver, everyone sharing the same wary look.

Focused on the phone call, Hotch shook his head, “This is Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner with the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit, you can speak with me.” He said, elaborating on the situation and rendering the SEC investigator speechless.

Unable to listen to the conversation any longer, Spencer got up, minding his movements as he walked out of the conference room. He checked the map of the building that was posted on the wall before walking up the stairs, making his way up to the roof of the building.

The dry heat of Dallas was about as miserable as everyone made it out to be, but it was hard to ignore the way it reminded him of home. Maybe he could call his mom – speaking with her usually brought him some semblance of peace. Though, she might have a negative reaction to the situation he found himself in. On the hot rubber roofing, he kicked around piles of dirt before leaning against the ledge of the building, craning his head back and closing his eyes when he heard the rooftop door open.

“Look, I’m really not in the mood for any sort of discussion right now,” he complained, neglecting to spare a glance at whoever was disturbing his quiet – not exactly an Eden, but quiet.

He recognized Emily by the sound her boots made, even on the rubber that had been softened by the relentless sun, “I’d be more surprised if you were in the mood to talk.”

Impulsively, he rolled his eyes, “Did Hotch put you in charge of me?” He was glad his eyes were still shut, that way he couldn’t see the look on Emily’s face when he sniped at her.

“No,” she responded, gathering his attention as he brought his head down, squinting in the sunlight. “I thought you might want to know what just happened,” she nearly challenged, dark hair gleaming in the daylight.

Mentally kicking himself, he nodded for a moment, “You’re right, I just… I’m sorry.”

Taking a moment, Prentiss walked over, standing next to him, “I know.” She sighed, turning around and taking inventory of the surrounding buildings, “She was sent out here to look at some shady dealings of the company – insider trading, that kind of stuff. The main branch has an investigation open with the SEC, and they have been for the last few months. She was supposed to meet with that Ezra guy this morning to try and work something out. Hotch is talking to the CEO right now, he’s claiming he couldn’t tell JJ because it’s need-to-know,” Emily explained, focusing her eyes on the highway in the distance. “The SEC has an office in Fort Worth, they’re sending some people, and they faxed over all of the files.”

Setting his jaw, Spencer was the first to move to the stairs, the air conditioning providing an instant relief as he strode down the steps with Emily trailing close behind.

A field agent was standing in the middle of the office, stirring a cup of coffee, “Would someone really kidnap a woman over an SEC investigation?”

“We’ve seen much worse for much less,” Spencer mentioned in passing, swerving through the office of people until he made it back to the conference room. “Why would Y/N’s boss send her to investigate something that had already been brought to the SEC?” He posed the question to the rest of the team, taking one of the files that Morgan handed him and reading through the pages.

Rossi shrugged, nodding his head in the direction of the evidence board, “He wanted it handled quietly,” he posited. “Maybe he thought she could negotiate a solution and they could call off the securities investigation.”

Understanding where Spencer was going with his question, Hotch watched the board as if it was all coming together, “But, Y/N had no idea there was an open investigation. This was just another assignment to her.”

You had basically said as much in your voicemails, you went in, and you cleaned up fires across the country, and now you were caught in a blaze. “It was a setup,” Spencer concluded.

“And I know just who you need to talk to,” Garcia said over the phone, typing on her keyboard, “Check your phones.”

Ezra’s assistant folded immediately under the threat of being charged with interfering with a federal investigation. She had no knowledge of what her boss was up to, but she did know where the BAU could find him.

On the edge of the city, your company held an old office building that was slated for demolition. With the information from the assistant and some actions of questionable legality from Garcia, the team was able to nail down Ezra’s location and, hopefully, yours.

Letting SWAT lead the way, Spencer, Emily, and Morgan all made their way up yet another flight of stairs, hoping to be able to find you on the third floor. The SWAT commander signaled with his fingers to direct everyone in their respective directions.

There was a clang from across the floor and everyone froze in place, “Fuck you!” Your voice rang out, reverberating through the mostly empty office space. The yelp that followed would have sent Spencer clambering in your direction if it weren’t for Morgan grabbing his arm in warning. “I didn’t know,” you spoke again, your tone less obstinate as the misery you felt crept in.

Drawing their weapons, the team clung to the wall as SWAT gave orders over comms until the team came into view, lifting their firearms.

In retaliation, Ezra pulled you up, keeping a deadly tight grip on your upper arm as he kept you compliant by pressing the barrel of his gun to your temple. “She told me you’d come,” he said, nearly seething with rage like a rabid animal.

It seemed like a ridiculous moment to feel relief, but the fact that you knew the BAU would come for you ever so slightly lightened the weight on Spencer’s shoulders. However, whatever relief he felt was quickly banished from existence when his eyes met yours, you were covered in blood. It leaked in a steady stream from your nose and down your sleep shirt, he hoped that was the extent of the damage that had been done but based on the evidence of a struggle in the hotel room, he doubted it.

“Y/N, don’t look at him, look at us, look at Spencer,” Emily reasoned, noting the way you looked over at your captor, eyeing the gun in his hand.

You didn’t look scared, not to Spencer, though Emily had reasonably assumed that you would be in this situation. “Y/N, don’t,” Spencer said in a warning.

But his warning came too late, you had already swung your bound hands up, grabbing the weapon from Ezra as you kicked his legs out from under him. If Spencer hadn’t been so worried, he would’ve been impressed, but now he found himself in an entirely different situation.

“The safety’s still on,” you chastised as your now shaking hands undid the small latch, settling your pointer finger on the trigger as you stared him down.

SWAT seemed entirely dumbfounded, not sure how to go about the admittedly unique situation, so, it fell upon your husband to talk you down. Slowly, he holstered his weapon and stepped toward you, “Baby, put the gun down.”

You sucked in a harsh breath, “He set me up, Spence”

“I know, darling, I know,” Spencer said breathlessly, holding his hands out to stop any and all movement in the warehouse. “This isn’t the answer though, okay? You know this isn’t the answer.”

Your hands didn’t stop shaking, still bound together by the flex cuffs on your wrists as you narrowed your eyes at Ezra. “He set me up,” your voice broke at the sheer memory of the betrayal.

Distantly, you heard Derek tell people to lower their weapons, convincing the field agents that you weren’t a threat. “This isn’t you,” Spencer insisted.

Blinking as tears fell from your eyes, you gripped the handle of the gun, leaving your pointer finger hovering precariously on the trigger. This isn’t you. This isn’t the answer. This isn’t you. This isn’t the answer.

Swallowing thickly, you looked down at Ezra, who was taunting you, trying to get you to pull the trigger. You fought against yourself, trying not to stare at Spencer because you knew as soon as you met his brown eyes, the choice would be made for you.

“Pull the damn trigger,” Ezra jeered, baring his teeth at you. This was it; this was the end. The FBI had the whole building surrounded. Even if he tried to run, the BAU would follow him, they’d chase him down, and they’d kill him themselves if it came down to it.

Slowly, you moved your thumb, re-engaging the safety before you lowered your arms, handing the gun off to Spencer. As he grabbed the barrel of the gun with one hand, he pulled you in with the other, passing the gun off to Emily so he could hug you tightly.

He pulled away for a moment, retrieving a pocketknife and using it to cut the flex cuffs from your wrists, letting the stiff plastic fall to the ground, and catching you when you practically threw your arms around him.

Your legs gave out from under you, and Spencer wondered how long you had been in this sweltering building without water, likely having used the last of your strength to stop Ezra. “Shh,” he hushed gently, “Let’s sit down,” he spoke to only you as he guided you to the ground.

Closer to you now, he saw more of the damage that had been done, the glazed look over your eyes, your chapped lips, and a bruise on the side of your head. “I knew you’d come,” you murmured dazedly, swaying ever so slightly, “I told him you’d come.”

“I know, I know,” Spencer reassured you, listening to the buzzing of people, hopefully EMTs, around you.

A hiccupping sob almost broke his heart, but he just kept his hold on you, keeping you upright and wishing your nosebleed would clot. “I almost killed him,” you mumbled.

But you didn’t, he wanted to respond. Part of him felt like it would’ve been fine if you had. You’d have gotten away with it, even, but he knew firsthand what it felt like to take another life. He wanted to believe that he had played a part in you turning the safety back on, but even he wasn’t sure.

“How are you feeling? Better?” Spencer asked, sitting on the edge of your hospital bed and taking your hand in his.

He squeezed your hand gently, allowing you to admire the way your wedding ring looked now that it had been returned to its rightful home. “Much,” you assured him, keeping your head resting on the mountain of pillows behind you. You had been cleaned up, stitches on your forehead, and a bandaged cut on your thigh, but the main concern was your dehydration. An IV delivered fluids to you while you sipped on a cup of water, waiting for your stomach to settle enough for you to eat something.

Spencer raised his eyebrows, reaching out and sweeping a strand of hair behind your ear, “Good enough to try something for dinner?”

You nodded apprehensively, “Something light?”

The smile that sprouted on his face was enough to convince you to eat. He offered to go talk to your nurse, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead before he left the room, leaving the door open so you could see him in the hallway.

A small chime got your attention, looking around for the source of the noise, you found yourself digging through Spencer’s bag, retrieving your cell phone from the leather satchel.

There was a scratch over the screen, but it still worked just fine following your skirmish in the hotel, you opened the phone to find that you had a voicemail. You tapped the message before bringing the phone to your ear.

Tuesday, 10:23 p.m.

“Hey love, I’m just leaving the office now. I’m sure they’ll be more receptive to you as you talk more, you can be very convincing. The weather is very dry in Texas, make sure you keep hydrated, okay? I’m sorry I didn’t answer any of your calls, we’ve been trying to prepare all of this paperwork for Strauss and time just got away from us. I miss you, maybe when you get home, we could talk about taking a trip. We could go see my mom. It’s been a while. Hm… I have to admit, I’m a little bummed you didn’t answer the phone, but I’m glad you’re getting sleep. I love you so much, sleep well.”

[sc0tters]

Dreams Awakened | Jack Hughes

summary: when Jack gets caught in the midst of your dreams, it’s only fair he helps you.

request: yes/no

warnings: mature themes, p in v, oral (fem receiving!), swearing.

word count: 2.67k

authors note: this was meant to be the soft sex for jacks birthday (before we get to something real big) but I got busy and sprained my ankle so this is shorter than I wanted but here it is and better late than ever really!

All he wanted was you.

Before Jack didn’t mind when the team was sent on their long roadtrips, he never understood why it mattered so much to the married players as they’d complain. Jack consistently enjoyed the time away from the city as it felt like a break.

But now it all changed for him once he met you, the girl next door all bright eyed for her change of scenery which was meant to be a big fuck you to your past friends who thought you couldn’t do it. Your new beginnings quickly led to you ending up in Jacks bed a few times before you both agreed to make it official and within six months of that when your lease was set to soon expire, Jack offered up a permanent place at his.

From that moment on he knew all too well why his teammates hated those long roadies, being away from you for that long felt like torture. And now after doing it for two and a half years he swore it never got easier, yet the arrivals home seemed to get more sweet. This time they came back directly after the Dallas game and even as the clock on his phone showed 02:34 Jack still hoped that you were awake so he could talk to you.

It wasn’t that he had anything on his mind, he just missed the way he could see you in person. But that idea was quickly tarnished when he noticed that all but the light in your bedroom was off. The crack under the door revealed the glow of the bulb, making the boy drop his bag in excitement.

Even as he let the door burst open you didn’t move a muscle, in fact, you had fallen asleep on his side clutching his pillow as you lay with your ass in the air and only his shirt and a pair of panties on. He couldn’t help but crack a grin at the sight, you looked perfect as you lay there and Jack was ready to push his desires away. You knew all too well about how he wanted to fuck his girl in her sleep once just to feel it, and you gave him the green light to do it whenever he wanted because you figured it’d be a good time for you.

With your blessings he still found himself reaching for your blanket as he felt sick. You were meant to be his sweet girl, not someone he could just use like a toy to fulfil his needs “Jack.” Your moan made him freeze with a blanket in his arms ready to cover you up.

You wriggled your hips and as your eyes were still shut. He quickly realised that you were in the midst of a wet dream as your fingers gripped at the sheet beneath you.

Jack felt his jaw soften as his lips turned to a smirk “my horny little girl huh?” He muttered to himself as he ran his fingers over the edge of your panties looking at the table where your vibrator sat.

You always got horny at the ends of his road trips when the phone sex would no longer cut it and you were left imagining what he would do to you. Like him, you hated the long roadtrips because no matter how hard you tried, your fingers were no match for his.

As Jack felt his suit bottoms grow tight against his cock he loosened the button of his shirt “wanna be-good girl.” Your words came out gurgled as your lips formed a pout “fuck baby.” Jack let out a grunt as he let the vibrator sit between his fingers.

The gummy material was something he wasn’t unfamiliar with as the hot pink toy ended up in your relationship as a joke when he said you’d need a friend, and has since never left. He turned it onto the lowest setting looking back to make sure you were still asleep before he pressed it against your clit.

The fabric of your panties were quick to grow soaked at the fact that he had left those on you “ah.” You moaned arching your back further to give him an even better view as his shirt rose up on your body.

It was a sight Jack was never going to get tired of as he made the vibrator’s speed increase “mhm.” You let out a whimper as Jack swore he was now caught when your head went deeper into the pillow, but still you were asleep.

He watched on for another minute before you began to babble on about how you were close “please.” You whined finally making him pull away from you. Even as you were sleeping the pleasure dissipated from between your legs making you pout in disappointment.

Jack smiled at the sight letting his tongue coat his lips in wetness as he placed the vibrator onto the table. He let his hands grace over the waistband of your panties before he stealthily pulled them down. Still you remained sound asleep and now he even had the sight of how wet you were in front of him.

The soft purrs left your lips as he rubbed your ass “can’t believe I always let you go for so long.” He grumbled to himself as he shifted his legs trying to find a comfortable place to be sat in that moment.

He found himself sat on the mattress as he blew cool air against your cunt “mhm.” You mumbled driving your hips closer to him “always such a needy little cunt.” He cooed licking up a stripe against your cunt.

It made you moan as he froze looking up at you “you’re such a pretty fucking girl.” Jack explained as he used his hands to spread your ass cheeks so that he could taste you properly.

The hockey player enjoyed the taste treating you like his last meal as he lapped at your cunt like a starved man “Jack.” Your moans seemed deeper as his tongue sucked at your clit.

Your eyes blinked open adjusting to the light around you “hi pretty girl.” Jack cooed causing your head to lift from the pillow as you looked at him.

He smirked thrusting his fingers into your core as he leaned over you so that he could get to your neck “fuck.” You whimpered feeing his lips nip at your skin “was thinking about you all damn week.” Jack confessed as he kissed your jaw.

You gripped at the sheets beneath you “missed you.” You confessed letting your voice break as you clenched around his fingers “couldn’t get this fucking sight out of my mind.” The hockey player explained as he let his hand slap your ass.

The action made you moan as you jumped feeling his thumb circle your clit “make me cum.” You pleaded wriggling your ass against him “that’s the first fucking thing you ask for when I’m home huh?” Jack laughed as he shook his head increasingly the speed of his fingers as he curled them into the gummy walls of your cunt.

Jack’s cock throbbed as he watched you spread your legs further “honestly think we should put you in my suitcase.” He confessed as he inserted another finger into your cunt “can’t help missing this needy cunt.” The boy added as he sped up his pace, making sure that he got every spot of your walls including your gspot.

He was grateful for the fact that Luke had moved out as your door was now able to be wide open, yet still you kept your hand over your mouth “doll you wanna cum then I better fucking hear ya beg for it.” He grunted feeling his cock grow uncomfortable in his pants “please baby.” You pleaded seeing his eyes stare into yours.

His silence served as a reminder to the fact that you hadn’t done nearly enough to convince him “missed you so much Jacky.” Your eyes filled with tears as your legs began to shake “just wanna make a mess on your fingers so I.” You cut yourself off as you moaned feeling your toes curl.

Jack let his free hand go under your shirt now letting his weight go dangerously close to sitting on top of you “so you what?” He taunted you as he smirked letting you feel the way his lips curved upwards against your skin “can fuck your cock.” That was all enough for him as he swore he could have cum on the spot.

He kissed your ear as your moans echoed in his ears bouncing off of the walls “let me finish ya off then huh princess?” Jack mumbled giving you the green light to cum.

The both of you loved getting the chance to be this close as it felt like the two of you hadn’t seen each other in years “don’t stop Jack.” You begged letting your head drop to the pillow as you clenched around his fingers.

Your eyes screwed shut as white dots scattered over your vision when you got your first proper orgasm in over a week “there we go pretty girl.” He cooed brushing his fingers through your hair as you came down from your high.

A flurry of whimpers flew from your lips as you felt his fingers release from your cunt, causing your release to ooze down your slit “fuck Jacky.” Your words were soft as you let out a cough smiling as you looked up at him.

He was quick to roll you over, letting the space between your legs get taken up by him “missed ya.” Jack confessed as he kissed your lips.

The moment was soft as your hands cupped his cheeks letting your hands rub over his skin “why don’t we get you out of this?” Sure Jack loved the way his clothes looked on you, but in that moment he wanted you in as little as possible.

As cooler air came around you, a whine slipped from your lips as the both of you were now sat up straight “you’re too clothed.” You grumbled making him laugh as he sat back on his feet “think you should help me then.” He joked letting that same smirk come back to his lips as you began to undo the buttons of his shirt.

It was clear you were desperate as his clothes quickly formed a pile on the ground “god I’ve missed this.” Jack groaned ripping open the wrapper to his condom as he watched your eyes light up “seems like you have too.” As he rolled the condom over his cock he couldn’t help but kiss your lips.

You lay back down with a stupid grin lacing your face “think I should go nice and slow-” Jack loved teasing you when you were overly eager “I know you didn’t just wake me up without fucking me.” You grumbled propping yourself up by your elbows.

If this was any other day he would have laughed, but in that moment he just wanted you to ruin you “fucking hell.” You both groaned feeling him bottom you out.

His forehead pressed against yours as he gave you the chance to adjust to his size, always having the same effect on you that he had the first time around “please move.” You whimpered trying to move your hips to create some kind of friction “look at you all needy again.” Jack taunted bringing your legs closer to him as he brought them over his shoulders.

The movement made you squeal feeling Jack peck at your lips. It was what you loved most with him as he found the way to make you feel like you were playfully in love “missed this cunt.” He confessed as he began thrusting his hips as he wanted to feel every inch of you again.

You whimpered in agreement “kept on thinking bout you.” You babbled on as the bed creaked beneath you “wanted your cock so bad.” You clenched around him remembering how needy you felt seeing him get into a few fights on screen.

He let his hand crawl up your skin “don’t think I ever wanna leave you again.” Jack announced as he watched his chain drop to your chin “already told Neeks I’d fucking murder him if he made me leave ya tomorrow.” The boy added as you lifted your lips up to kiss him swearing that this had to be a dream.

His cock continued to push deeper into your gummy walls as you clenched around him “you carry on doing that and I’m not going last.” Jack warned dropping his head to your breasts.

The coil in your stomach tightened as his lips wrapped around your nipple, sucking at the sensitive bud trying to bring forth your second orgasm before he came like an excited teenage boy. His message to himself was always that you had to come first, and that was no different tonight.

You had one hand gripping at your sheets and the other at his hair wanting him to stay there “please don’t stop.” You begged feeling your legs begin to shake.

He brought his lips up looking at you to see you staring back in awe, as the sight of broken saliva trailing from his lips made you squirm “wanna milk your cock.” You whined letting moans echo off of the walls.

It made him throb against your walls “wish I could make a mess.” Both of you weren’t ready for kids but still he couldn’t deny his desires to mark you up like some little whore.

You moaned letting the thought crowed your mind “please baby.” You nodded letting your fingers slide between your bodies to attack your clit.

But Jack was all that much quicker as he slapped your hand away looking back up at you “it’s gonna be me that makes you cum.” He explained with a scoff feeling his jaw tighten “please Jacky.” Your lips were swollen from how you chewed at it and your pupils were blown.

The sight alone was enough to make him nod as he let his fingers strum at your clit like he was playing a guitar “go on baby.” He cooed moving closer to you as skin slapped together when he kissed you.

It was enough to silence your moans as you came feeling the coil snap in your stomach quickly triggering on his orgasm “oh my god.” Your chest heaved as you caught your breath making him laugh “it’s just me princess.” He grinned as you scoffed going to argue with him when he pulled out of you.

Your eyelids grew heavy as he watched you lay on his side of the bed “really did miss you.” Jack confessed as he softly kissed your lips wanting to still feel you.

He watched you grin as he rubbed his thumb over your cheek “you want a bath, shower or bed?” The hockey player asked not wanting to care that it was well beyond a suitable time to be awake anymore.

You chewed at the inside of your cheek “you gonna put my bath bomb in?” Your voice was soft as he nodded “and those bath salts you like so much.”

After the late night that the two of you had, it was no surprise that all you wanted was to sleep in. Craving Jacks warmth as you were practically falling onto his side edging closer to him.

But that only lasted so long as your eyes stirred open hearing the sound of knocking at your door “baby should I get it?” Jack asked hearing the knocks get louder.

Your groans deterred him from it, ultimately making him laugh “if you even think about it I will murder you Hughes.” You warned pulling him in closer with you.

From the other side of the door stood John and Dawson “why do you think that Nico told us Jack wanted to see us?”

[rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me]

Dallas Dating A Curtis!Reader

Buckle up buttercups, this is gonna be fun!

As always, to fit the age bracket, you’re either Soda’s twin, or you were born between Sodapop and Ponyboy

Pick and choose as you see fit, but I’m definitely seeing more opportunity for a Sodapop’s twin sibling-

Anywayyyssssssss

Lemme set the stage a little bit, alright? Cause there’s a bunch of ideas floating around in this brain of mine-

You’ve had a crush on Dal for the longest time and I mean the longest time- ever since he stumbled in with that stupid white blond hair and that stupid New York accent and that stupid little attitude of his- you’d been head over heels

And low and behold, Dallas had been nursing a few feelings for you as well, hiding them a little better than you had been

So of course, y’all flirt and mess around and all the rest of the boys are a little suspicious but you and Dal both deny that there’s anything between the two of you

That changes a few weeks before the Curtises die, you and Dallas go on an official date down to the nightly double (he timed it with your favorite films cause he’s romantic like that) and bada bing bada boom, y’all are dating

But it’s a secret and no one knows but here comes the funeral and you’re holding Dallas’ hand through the whole thing, crying into his shoulder and he’s cradling the back of your head and everyone knows there’s something up

Darry doesn’t like it- not even a little bit- he doesn’t love that you’re dating Dal one smidgeon of a bit

He likes Dal well enough, he’s got to, they’re in the same gang, but like- he knows Dallas well enough too to know that maybe this isn’t the best thing

Dare’s biggest concern is your heart and whether or not Dal’s gonna break it by doing something stupid like fooling around with someone else or getting hauled in for something big and leaving you alone forever

Sodapop’s a little more okay with it? But he’s still a little hesitant, especially when Dally likes to get a little more physical than he needs to

*cough cough* kissing you way past decent under the porch light when he’s dropping you off at home after a date, sliding his hand into your back pocket to keep you close, just generally being Dal and pushing the limits of what is publicly decent *cough cough*

But!

Where the real fun is located is with our dear darling Ponyboy!

It’s canon, I’m pretty sure and I’m pretty confident after reading the book fifty million times, that Ponyboy “doesn’t like” Dally and thinks he’s kinda scary

But at the same time, we all know that boy looks up to Dally too and Dally has a soft spot for him

I’m seeing like- Ponyboy and Johnny and Dallas hanging out, just the three of them, and Dal’s trying to be all nonchalant and stuff, smoking casually as he tries to ask Ponyboy about how you’d like certain things

Dally tries to subtly run almost all his date ideas past Ponyboy before he takes you out because yeah, he really does like you, and sometimes he’s just a little unsure of himself with how much he cares about you

Now. When he gets hauled in, and we know it’s going to happen, let's be honest with ourselves folks, when he gets hauled in, his phone call is going to go to the Curtis house

He’s gonna ask for you and he’s gonna apologize for having to be gone for so long

If I was you? I’d cry, I’d scream, I’d be angry and sad and frustrated because why does he keep making stupid decisions?

But I’m gonna tell you this-

Putting up with stupid decisions and working through tough times like this? It’s gonna be a lot of the relationship, and it’s gonna be pretty prominent in your time with Dally

If that’s not for you? Then maybe, maybe it won’t work out

But that’s alright too! All the more for me :D

[quizzicalwriter]

Love Her Madly

Pairing: Modern!Dallas Winston x Fem!Reader

Summary: Dallas is more than willing to lend a helping hand, even on film.

Warnings: SMUT. MDNI. Camgirl!Reader, fingering, dirty talkin’, all that good stuff.

Word Count: 4.6k

Everyone had a career, whether it was accounting, mechanical engineering, or meteorology - everyone had something that provided monetary income. Something to survive, hell, some people even loved their jobs. For you, work was a bit more personal. You interacted with customers frequently, purchased things to pull in newer eyes, and you were damn good at it. 

Questions directed your way on the topic of your career were quickly, and skillfully deflected. Most dropped the subject, willing to delve into the next conversational topic, others were persistent. Your friends were the ladder, childhood companions who knew you better than you knew yourself. They’d nudge your arm with their elbow, teasing you with their theories on what you did for a living. 

Hitman, masseuse, dog trainer. All of them were incorrect. 

Except for one, one whispered statement into the crook of your neck on a night when all of you found yourself way past the point of inebriation. It had caught you off guard, admittedly sending a flush of heat across your chest and cheeks. If it had been anyone else, you might’ve gotten away from it unscathed. 

But you didn’t, because Dallas had been the one to guess correctly. 

Luckily for you, Dallas had no issue keeping a secret he found amusing to himself. However, his keeping of your secret included a few ill-made quips at your expense. Whenever company dwindled low, leaving only the pair of you sitting together, he’d inquire about your line of work. His words always came off hushed, almost near a whisper, but the questions were genuine nonetheless - and his intrigue was palpable. 

Usually, your work centered around yourself, toys and props were included every few clips, but it was mainly you on your lonesome. Your viewers seemed to love it enough, and if one tipped particularly heartily, you usually indulged in a little fantasy-making. Every few days you’d check your inbox, mainly to clear out spam messages and the occasional creep, but one caught your eye as you scrolled through the monotonous topics. 

A regular, a nearly fifty-year-old man with enough wealth and boredom to stock your tip jar with obscenities tied into compliments. He was kind, and lascivious, but nice enough to leave you genuinely considering his request - it certainly helped that he’d stuck a hefty tip onto the end of it all. 

All you had to do was find someone to sleep with, no biggie. 

Right?

Whatever method you’d used in the past to hype yourself up had failed you, miserably, leaving you drumming your fingers against the cool tabletop of your booth in feigned hope to ease your worried mind. Out of your friends, and coworkers you were acquainted with, only one struck you with genuine possibility. 

Dallas.

You framed your meeting around buying him lunch, which admittedly, you had promised to do after he bought you lunch the past fourteen times. It didn’t take much convincing, and after a whopping thirty-second phone call you found yourself waiting at your local hole-in-the-wall diner. 

The complimentary fries were enough to keep your mind distracted, the sharp sting of the salt against your well-bitten lips keeping you settled in the present. You weren’t worried about embarrassing yourself, you had walked in on Dallas with enough women to officially blind yourself. The worries flurrying around your mind centered around your friendship with Dallas, one you’d had since the both of you were scraggly teens. 

“Hey, kid.” Dallas quipped with a sharp push to the back of your head, quickly snapping you from your mind with a groan. He only laughed at your reaction, a lopsided smile crinkling the skin by his eyes as he plopped himself down across from you. 

“Ass.” You murmured, fighting away your smile with a rub to the back of your head. “Go ahead, order what you want. I’m like, what- fifty dollars in debt?”

“More than that.” Dallas replied with a sigh and a reach across the table, grabbing a few fries before tossing them into his mouth. “Who’s countin’? I ain’t.” 

You had spoken to Dallas on nearly every topic under the sun; sex, academics, money, drugs - all of it. Yet you were left feeling uneasy about raising such a premise with a lifelong friend. As you two finished your orders, you found yourself willing your silent mind into words, hopeful that there would be an eloquent way to word wanting your best friend to fuck you on camera. 

“Dal-“ You started with a clear of your throat, free hand grasping one of the few remaining fries from the basket between you both. “I wanted to ask you something.”

Dallas hummed, not bothering to hide his intrigue as he relaxed back against the leather booth, legs spread in a manner that left nothing to the imagination as the denim of his jeans clung to his upper thighs. You weren’t sure if he noticed your blatant staring, the way your eyes couldn’t decide if they wanted to focus on his parted lips or his parted thighs, he wore a smirk nonetheless. 

“You know what I do for work, so I don’t have to explain that part.” Before you could finish your words, he leaned forward, resting his elbows against the cool tabletop between you. “I was wondering if you wanted to film something with me?”

“You want me to fuck you on camera?” He asked, tone full of nonchalance and loud enough to turn a few heads from those seated close to you. You were half-inclined to leap across the center table and clamp your hand over his mouth, but you knew Dallas well enough to know that would’ve fueled him more. 

So, with a crimson-tinted face, you nodded. 

To your surprise, he lifted his drink to his lips with a shrug of his shoulders and a quick, “Alright.”

Relief flooded your senses quicker than relative confusion on his quick decision, your mind not wanting to jinx things or have him second guess it all. Dallas had done risky things before just to say he’d done it, maybe he viewed this under the same lens? 

Some childlike part of you was left wondering if he still saw you the same. It wasn’t every day that someone called their best friend over for a lunch date, only to spring on in the middle of it all that they wanted you to fuck them on camera. 

“Dal-“ You began, clearing your throat halfway through the word. “Do you- do you look at me the same?”

His brow quirked, confusion written clear across his face as he chewed away on another fry. Once he saw you were being genuine, his eyes rolled and he let out a lengthy sigh. 

“‘Course I do.” He mumbled. “Everyone does something for cash. I don’t mind lending a helping hand.” 

Even though his words ended in enough insinuation to leave you choking back another laugh, you were thankful for him. He was an odd friend, one you were constantly worried about the mental and physical well-being of, but you knew that he’d seen enough shit in his lifetime to leave him perpetually unbothered.

“Cool.” You chimed, beaming him a genuine smile as you lifted your hips, fishing around in the back of your jeans for your wallet. “Little weird you’re willing to do it with no convincing, but I’ll take it.”

He snorted at your words, leaning back against the cracked leather of the booth with his drink in hand. “You make me sound bad, kid. Just want to help you out is all.”

“Is all?” You asked, placing down enough money to cover your tab and his, along with a hefty tip in a silent apology to your waitress for having overheard Dallas’s filthy mouth. “You realize what I’m asking you to do right?”

His eyes flickered up to yours, a look within them you hadn’t seen before, it left your stomach flipping in on itself. With a quick placement of his empty glass against the table, he leaned closer to you. 

“I’m going to fuck you on camera.” He stated, once again, not quiet enough for your liking. “And when you post it, you get paid. Helping hand, right?”

A ‘helping hand’ was a different frame of mind for it all, but you agreed with a shallow nod and a quick sip of your drink. 

“There are people here.” You whispered as you fished an ice cube from the bottom of your glass. “Don’t need them knowing my business.” 

“You ain’t seeing these people again.” He quipped with a quick reach across the table for your glass, his thick fingers slinking to the bottom of the cup for an ice cube of his own. “I’ll make it up to you later, how’s that?”

“You better.”

You tried to ignore the cocky smile that overtook Dallas’s lax features, the way his lips wrapped around the ice, the droplets of water curving around his wrist. While you lost yourself in the flex of his jaw as he chewed away at the ice, Dallas let his mind run wild with everything he could do to make you regret your words. 

Your apartment was modest, never something you bragged about, but you felt comfortable and proud enough of it to have people over several times a month. The guys had made their home in your apartment, each having their own designated spot they’d relax in for the time being until they moved onto something else that captured their attention. 

Dallas’s was your couch, pressed tight against the exposed brick wall, directly underneath one of the bigger windows overlooking the land beneath the building. He’d always push the window up, leaving the screen down to ensure no bugs crawled in as he smoked half a pack of cigarettes while talkin’ to whoever had come with him to bother you. 

Just as you assumed he would, he kicked off his boots and slung his jacket over the back of a nearby armchair, giving you a short-lived grin that sent your stomach careening in on itself before he made his way down the adjacent hallway. You followed behind him, abruptly kicking off your shoes as well before padding after him. 

“Dallas?” You called, watching as his form disappeared behind the beads you kept stapled to your doorway. They served as a makeshift curtain, only Ponyboy and Johnny seemed to love them as much as you did, Dallas always swatted at them - not that day, however. “Hell are you doin’ in there?”

As you parted the beaded curtain to the side, you caught sight of Dallas making himself comfortable on your bed, legs sprawled out before him as he struck a match against the side of his belt buckle. His blown pupils gave away his internal thoughts, so you decided against wasting time. You already had a set-up near your bed, it took no time at all to have everything propped up, and with the click of your camera, Dallas looked up to you. 

“Strip.” He murmured, a sharp inhale following the order as he took a drag from his cigarette. “Come closer, doll. You want the camera to see, don’t you?”

You nodded, moving closer to the end of your bed. His hips lifted as he not-so-discreetly adjusted himself through his jeans. The sight of his cock straining against his jeans sent your confidence through the roof, and with little more than a smile directed his way, you lifted your shirt up and over your head, letting the fabric fall to your feet. 

“Shit-“ He breathed, eyes widening as you began unfastening your belt. You didn’t try to contain the giggle that left you at his comment, you knew you’d feel the same in only a matter of minutes. 

“C’mere.” He murmured around the filter of his cigarette, a soft smile toiling with the corner of his full lips. You listened without wasting a second, kicking your unbuttoned jeans off your thighs until they were a crumbled mess against the hardwood floor. 

His eyes watched you as you moved over to your bed, how your chest flushed a deep crimson, the heat spreading up your throat until it turned your cheeks the same hue. You noticed the faint lift of his hips as you sunk to your knees, the soft bedspread enveloping your legs as you crawled over to him. 

“Sit between my legs, doll. Want them to see how pretty you look.”

You were used to holding yourself to a certain degree whenever you filmed your videos, a personal disconnect from your real self. Dallas had done away with it, his eyes coaxing you in, deep brown hues echoing each pant that left your parted lips. As you moved to sit between his legs, he hooked an arm around your middle, effortlessly pulling your back flush to his chest. 

The smoke from his cigarette left your eyes watering, but all you could focus on was the steady throb of arousal between your legs, every atom of your body screaming for his touch. Your hips shifted, twisting, inadvertently brushing your ass back against his lap. You felt the rumble of his breath circling his chest, the reflection of his head falling back reflected on your nearby camera lens. 

“Stop that.” He laughed out, words muffled as he kept his cigarette steady. “Already hard, doll. Gonna make me cum before I get to show you off.”

Wherever Dallas had learned to talk filthy, you made a mental note to pay homage to. Each word sent shockwaves through you, leaving your cunt clenching down around nothing, cum dripping down the cleft of your ass. As you tried to refocus yourself, Dallas leaned back behind you, snubbing his half-gone cigarette on a nearby windowsill. 

With a slow exhale, his hand moved to cup your throat, tilting your head back to face the camera fully. You could see yourself in the reflection of the lens, face, and chest flushed, lips parted - pitiful. 

“Come on, pretty girl.” He urged, tone a centimeter away from being an all-out beg. “Spread your legs, show them your cunt.”

He spoke of your body as if he’d seen it, mapped out your being beneath his skilled tongue, and left kisses in places unseen by your own eyes. You obeyed, lips parted in a silent moan as his hands helped your thighs apart with a gentle push to your inner knees. His chin rested on your shoulder, eyes fixed on yours in the reflection of your camera lens. 

“Look at that.” He whispered, tilting his head to see you, a coy smirk written across his face. “Soaking wet already, huh? That desperate?”

You watched yourself, your cunt twitching around nothing, dripping cum onto the bedsheets below. His hands moved from your knees, slowly caressing your trembling thighs until his fingertips brushed against the swell of your sex. 

His left hand slipped back, fingertips digging into the hollow before your hipbone, pressing down in a manner to keep you steady as his right slipped down your cunt, fingers parting your soaked folds with ease. You allowed your head to fall back, eyes shutting in a relief so packed with bliss you could’ve thanked Dallas until your voice gave out. 

With a chaste kiss to your shoulder, his middle and ring finger pressed into your cunt, gently curling up in a ‘come hither’ motion. Your hips rocked into his touch, pulling his fingers deeper, your body doing a better job at voicing your neediness than your vocal cords ever could. 

“Think you could cum from this?” He asked, even though you were both keenly aware of the fluttering of your cunt around his digits, the pants of breath that left you with each push of his fingers. You nodded, and he smiled. “Want to make you cum on my fingers first.” 

You turned your head, tucking your face into the crook of his neck as his fingers plunged into your cunt, the heel of his palm brushing against your clit. You lifted your arm, curling it around the back of his neck, holding onto him as though you were petrified he’d vanish beneath your grasp. 

A ravenous pleasure blossomed in your lower stomach as you rocked your hips into his palm, small pants and whimpers of his name tumbling past your parted lips. He whispered praise against the shell of your ear, gaze set on the reflection of you in the camera lens, legs spread, hands clinging to his forearm and along the back of his neck, cunt stretched around his fingers. 

“Dal-“ You whined, voice breaking off into another desperate moan as your cunt fluttered around his fingers. He hummed, pressing a kiss to your temple as he pushed his fingers deeper, curling them upward with each thrust. He sent you careening over the edge with a gentle circle of his thumb around your clit, continuing the same blissful motion as you cried out his name into the crook of his neck. 

“That’s it-“ He hushed, cheek pressed to your temple. “Good girl, so fuckin’ good.”

Cum dripped from your cunt, dampening the comforter beneath you. Dallas caught sight of it in the reflection of the camera lens, pride swelling in his chest at the realization that he’d made you cum hard enough to coat his fingers and the bedding in your arousal. Only when your moans broke off into desperate pleas did he slow his movements, fingers still gently rocking forward into your cunt, leaving you teetering on the edge of mind-shattering oversensitivity.

He lifted his arm after slowing his movements to a halt, exposing his glistening fingers to the warm sunlight pouring through your bedroom window. You watched with bated breath as he brought his fingers to his lips, his eyes locked on yours. It was as if the air was knocked from your lungs when he parted his lips, pushing the soaked digits against his tongue. You could hear the deep-set groan reverberating within his chest as your saccharine taste coated his tongue, all but making him drool as he sucked your taste from his fingers. 

His left hand moved to cup your jaw, tilting your head back as he lowered himself to meet your lips. His right grabbed at your breast, smearing his saliva along with the remnants of your arousal across your skin as his lips met yours. The moan that fell from your lips was pure, completely instinctive. He swallowed it with a moan of his own, fingers tightening their hold as they slipped down to cup the curve of your throat. 

You could taste yourself on his tongue, the muscle swirling around your own, ensuring you tasted yourself just as he had. It was lewd, debaucherous, leaving you clenching around nothing as you sucked on his tongue. His fingers tweaked your nipple in between rolling squeezes of the tissue, you couldn’t help but notice his tongue moving in sync with his fingers. 

“Dallas-“ You panted, eyes fluttering open to meet his, recognizing the same carnal desire reflected in his irises. He nodded in response to your unspoken question, placing another chaste kiss on your lips as his hands hurriedly moved to unbutton his jeans. You smiled into the kiss, elated laughter bubbling in your chest as your hands moved with his, nearly tearing the fabric of his boxers in haste to have him. 

It was as if there was no camera, no incentive to keep you both pawing at each other besides the heavy lust hanging in the air, polluting your mind into nothing but a heavy daze of desire. Your cunt ached, desperate for some form of attention, but you refused to appease yourself - you wanted Dallas, and by God, you’d have him. 

“C’mon.” He urged, wetting his lips as he reached behind him for a pillow. You hardly understood what he wanted from you before he pushed the pillow beneath your hips, his free hand settling against the small of your back, gently guiding you over the bunched-up fabric. You could feel his fingers spreading your folds as you settled yourself against the pillow, face turned toward the camera. 

“So fucking wet.” He whispered, tone riddled with equal parts amazement and disbelief. A wet squelch sounded through the silence as he pushed his middle and ring finger into your cunt, a sharp hiss leaving him at the feeling of your warmth enveloping his digits. Part of you wanted to be pissed, to yell at him for not fucking you, but the way his fingers curved inside of you left you pushing your hips back against his hand. 

As soon as you grew accustomed to the feeling of his fingers writhing inside of your cunt, he pulled them free, using your arousal to lubricate his already leaking cock. You pushed your face flat to the mattress, arching your back in a display so riddled with desperation it made Dallas’s cock twitch. His hand grasped at your hip, steadying your trembling form as he swiped his tip along your folds. 

He was a performer, a natural before the camera. Each movement was fluid, and effortless in a way that made you pine for him. With a gentle push forward of his hips, he bottomed out inside of you, stretching your cunt in a manner that left you whining into the duvet. You could hear him steadying his breathing, hands tightening their hold on the flesh of your hips.

“Move-“ You ordered, or more so begged. “Please.”

He responded with a grunt and a sharp push forward of his hips, bullying the tip of his cock against your cervix. Once he was sure you had grown accustomed to his size, he pulled out, pushing back in rough enough to force the air from your lungs. You wove your hand down beneath yourself, circling your middle and ring finger around your swollen clit. 

“So fuckin’ tight-“ He rasped, right hand releasing your hip for a moment to smack at the plush of your ass, leaving a red imprint of his hand behind. You felt his hand smoothing up your back, fingers pressing into the muscle of your upper back before slinking around your shoulder. 

His hand wrapped around your throat, fingers pushing your jaw up, forcing your attention onto the camera in front of you.

“Look at the camera, doll.” He grunted, fingers tightening around the curve of your throat. “Let them see how you look taking my cock.”

You could only moan in response, the noise strangled due to his impeccably tight hold around your throat. You pushed your hips back against him, eyes bleary with tears from the combination of sheer pleasure and lack of oxygen. 

His thumb pushed into your mouth, pressing against the wet muscle of your tongue as he fucked you. You sucked at the digit, your moans concealed for nearly a second before his hips jerked against you, pushing his cock deeper into your cunt. You could feel your spit dripping down your chin and onto your breasts, breaths haggard the longer he kept you pressed back against him. 

Your breathy moans were no deterrent for him, his thumb against your tongue all but forcing your noises to be heard by anyone nearby. His free hand held you by your hip, his thighs slamming against yours with each eager thrust of his hips. You could feel the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix, deep enough to knock the wind from your lungs. 

Pleasure swirled within your lower stomach, settling heavy. The chase of your climax urged you to push your hips back, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing throughout your bedroom. Your cunt squeezed around his cock, each roll of his hips leaving you both breathless, hands grasping desperately at each other as your arousal built to a fever pitch. 

“Dallas-“ You whined, tone carrying enough of a warning for Dallas to trail kisses along the hollow of your throat in between rough groans of your name. Your hand slipped between your slick thighs, fingers finding home against your clit where you eagerly swirled your digits. “-I’m gonna cum.” 

“C’mon.” He urged as he smoothed his hand down your side, grasping the other side of your hip. “Cum for me, doll.” 

A broken, garbled mess of a moan tore its way from your throat. Your eyes squeezed shut as pure euphoria shot through your veins, igniting every facet of your being as your cunt spasmed around his cock. You could hardly register the curses that slipped past his gritted teeth, how his hold on your waist tightened as he fucked himself into you, pushing his cock deeper. 

Your hands reached behind you, blindly fumbling against his dampened skin as he continued to bully his cock into you, fucking you into mind-numbing oversensitivity. His hands moved from your hips, both lacing around your wrists, pulling you back to meet each eager thrust of his hips. Your moans broke off, well past incoherent, delving into the grounds of depravity. 

“Sound so good for me, doll.” He rasped, his voice mirroring yours in its spent nature. “Want me to fill your cunt up, huh? Don’t you?”

Without giving you a moment to reply, not that you could anyhow, given your fucked-out state, he buried himself to the hilt inside of your still spasming cunt. You felt his grip on your wrists tighten to an almost painful degree as he grunted out your name, his hips jerking with each mutter that fell past his lips. Warmth flooded your cunt, spilling down your inner thighs, leaving a mess beneath you. 

As soon as Dallas released your wrists you crumbled to the bedsheets below, deep, ragged lungfuls of air heaving your chest as your mind tried to remain in the present. Dallas kissed along your spine as his hands smoothed up your sides, muttering words of praise lost on your fatigue-ridden mind.

“Doll?” He asked as he shifted behind you, left hand moving to cup the underside of your jaw, gently tilting your head back to meet his gaze. “You alright? Didn’t fuck you dumb, did I?”

You shook your head as you smiled, a small bout of laughter following the movement as you threaded your fingers through his, feeling your damp skin against your pulse point. His words didn’t shock you, if anything you might’ve been worried if he babied you for too long without jabbing at you - that was simply his nature. 

“Alright-“ He groaned, moving his hand from yours to pat your cheek as he moved from your bed. “Stay here, I’ll go get a washcloth.”

As the bed dipped from his departure you took a moment to catch your breath, stretching your legs out beneath you. You were sure you could’ve fallen asleep right then and there if it hadn’t been for Dallas’s return. 

The mattress dipped beside you and a cool washcloth wiped away at your inner thighs and cunt. Dallas cleaned himself off, tossing the dirtied washcloth to a nearby corner of your room before moving back to your side. 

“Turned your camera off.” He stated as he stretched his arms over his head, leaning back afterward to retrieve his nearby pack of cigarettes. You responded in a thankful hum, or what you attempted to make sound thankful. “Figured you wouldn’t want to use your legs for a while.”

Cockiness laced heavily in his words, but you were in no state to dispute it - even if you did, you couldn’t deny he’d fucked you until your legs were jelly. You glared at him through your tired eyes, taking note of his self-satisfied grin as he leaned back against your bedroom wall, a lit cigarette hung between his lips. 

“Ain’t arguing, are ‘ya?” He asked, to which you swatted at his exposed thigh with a stifled laugh. “Hittin’ ain’t denyin’.” 

“Shut up.” You responded, not bothering to hide your smile. “You’re too cocky for your own good.”

“Still ain’t sayin’ I’m wrong.”

A/N: I’m not dead! Or inactive! Life has put me in a chokehold recently, but lately it’s been better! Writing has been a sanctuary for me, and while I can’t do it as often as I could before, I still have more time than I did prior! So, thank you all for your continued love and support of me and my work! I hope you guys enjoy this, see it as a late Christmas present, or holiday gift thing.

[so-so-woso]

i wanna be the one | part 1

Edit: Changed title. Thanks to Dru for the suggestion. From the song "Things We Never Say" by the Bad Bad Hats. Great song, potentially relevant maybe who knows.

Summary: Reader is an English-American GK who joins the Arsenal squad and ends up in an interesting back and forth with Leah Williamson. This chapter is mainly set-up for the future. The vibes will probably be very different going forward lol

Warnings: Angst, swallowing self-doubt, and mentions of parental death in the first section.

Word Count: 3,284

London felt just like Seattle. You were expecting it to feel different, more European (whatever that meant), but when you stepped out of the airport and that familiar January rain hit your skin, it was a welcome feeling. It wasn’t quite Home – you hadn’t had one of those in a long time – but it was definitely welcoming, and nice enough that you didn’t bother with an umbrella. It would’ve been hard enough trying to carry one along with all your bags anyway, although by the look on your driver’s face he really wished you had at least tried. It was nice that the team had sent a car to meet you, especially since you didn’t really know anyone here that well, but you supposed they would do that for any new signing. The driver helped you get your bags into the car and then you were off to the club to dot some Is and cross some Ts to make everything truly official.

Wistful thoughts crept into the back of your mind as you were chauffeured through the streets of London, and you decided for the first time in a long time not to fight them. Not here, anyway – not now. Not after everything it took to get you here. Get you here again, technically. You were born in London after all, and raised in Sheffield where your mother had grown up. Your father was an American, from Dallas, who came to England for graduate school and stayed for the woman he fell in love with. He often teased her about “real (American) football” but she converted him to Sheffield United fan, though he would never admit it – at least not until you were born. Match days became a family event as soon as you could stand up on your own, even though you were still too young to really remember anything at that point, but by the time you could run you wanted nothing more than to play. You were always bigger than the other kids so they made you play with the boys, but you knew a lot of the women’s national team players had played on boys’ teams growing up, so you didn’t mind it. You were never upset about that, but you were upset when they made you move to the goalkeeper position when you were eight. It was the boring position and you never got to do anything, but you were the only kid on the team who didn’t seem scared of the ball when it came flying at you, so the job fell to you. Many years later, it would prove to be the right choice, but for a while you thought it felt like a punishment from the universe. Then you found out what that kind of punishment actually felt like.

You were only eleven when your parents died. It was a car accident; your mom was driving. She took the brunt of it and was gone by the time the ambulance arrived. Your dad was in the hospital for two days, but he never woke up. You had been in the back seat. Heavy bruising, a busted ribs, broken collarbone, and a big gash across the side of the head was it for you. You were in the hospital too, for a while. Your paternal grandmother came all the way from Austin to pick you up and take you to live with her. Your mom’s parents had been gone for a while now, and GiGi – what you had called your father’s mother – was all you had left. You had only met her a few times before, but you didn’t really have another option, so across the pond you went.

It would be a massive understatement to say that Texas was different from Sheffield. It was truly a whole different world, but kids are resilient enough. You were famous for a while, because of your accent, and then you were weird for a while, because of your accent, and then eventually you became just one of the kids. Your GiGi was supportive as well, more than you had expected her to be. You didn’t know much of the specifics as a kid, but you knew she and your father had had some sort of falling out and weren’t as close as they had been when he was younger. You always thought it had to do with him choosing to stay in England rather than come home to America. When you got older it seemed like maybe there was more to it than that, but GiGi wouldn’t talk about it. She did help you get into therapy, so that you could learn how to process what had happened and all the big changes that came with it. You didn’t like it at the time, but in hindsight it was probably the best thing she could’ve done. She even started trying to learn about football – soccer – too, because she knew you liked it, and she made sure to sign you up for the local league. You think maybe that time doesn’t heal wounds, but it sort of scabs them over enough that they only hurt when you pick at them, so eventually you learn to stop picking at them, and after that life became kind of normal.

You eventually played soccer in high school – goalkeeper, naturally – and were good enough to get recruited to the University of Texas. From there, the NWSL draft sent you to Seattle for the OL Reign. You spent a season as the third-string goalkeeper, then a season as the second-string, and then were presented with an opportunity you couldn’t dare turn down. It had been Kim Little’s idea, apparently. She had only played with you in Seattle for a month or so, and you never really hung out, but she knew you had grown up in England and that you had really wanted the chance to play football in Europe. She would tell you later that she was impressed with your resilience, something you had heard often growing up, and that you had a “dead brilliant reaction speed” which you guessed sounded good. So when Arsenal’s back-up goalkeeper transferred out and they were weighing their options, she suggested they give you a look. She had said it offhandedly, like it wasn’t a big deal, but you would wager she fought harder for you than she let on. You had only played a handful of games in two seasons, and while you were admittedly good, the offer from the English club still came as a massive surprise. They were up front and adamant about your status as a pure back-up to Zinsberger, and while you would’ve had a decent chance to win the starting spot in Seattle, you just couldn’t say no to European football, to England, to the Arsenal.

That’s how you ended up in the back of a dark car being driven through the streets of north London in the pouring rain. Your fingers fiddled absently at the chain around your neck and the two golden bands that hung from it while you considered everything that led you here, hoping that you made the right choice. Only time would tell, you thought, as the car squealed to a slow stop. You hesitated for a long moment before tucking the necklace under your shirt and moving to exit the vehicle. The driver met you at the car door, an umbrella extended overhead. You were taller than him, so you had to awkwardly bend your neck as he moved to close the door behind you.

“This shouldn’t take long,” he said, “Then we’ll get you home.” You thanked him and stuffed your fists in the pockets of your coat as you followed him up to the club, your stomach slowly rising higher and higher into your throat as the series of decisions you had recently made began to congeal rather quickly into a hard reality. It was some grotesque mix of nerves and excitement and fear that just fully slapped you in the face when you stepped inside the building. You hadn’t felt like this in Seattle, or on the plane, or in the car, but now that you were here, physically, it’s like everything else was physical too. It wasn’t some amorphous Choice floating in the metaphorical ether of your life; it was a foreboding Presence leering down at you, clawing at your shoulders from behind, and whispering ‘you don’t deserve this’ into your psyche. Nausea began to swell up, to the point you were just starting to feel dizzy. Out of instinct you reached forward and put your hand on the driver’s shoulder, who stopped walking to turn and see what you needed. He opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but was interrupted by a distinctly Scottish, “Oh ‘ey, Tex!” behind you.

You both turned to see Kim Little striding down the hallway, followed closely by Jonas and one of the other coaches. You swallowed hard, all the torturous feelings slowly fading away as you saw a familiar face. “Hey, Little Kim, “ you retorted. She scoffed and faked a jab towards your ribs before she reached up to hug you.

“Welcome to the party,” she said, stepping back to introduce the coaches, who shook your hands. They welcomed you as well and explained that the evening would be brief, they were sure you’d be tired from the flight, but just needed to finalize some things on the business side and then Kim would give a tour of the facilities. You thanked them, probably too many times, and went with them all to finish your paperwork and pick up your official training gear. Your kit wouldn’t be ready until tomorrow since they’d have to put your name on and weren’t sure what number you wanted (you picked 18 because it was available and made sense for a goalkeeper). Kim showed you around, asked about the flight, and made you feel as welcome as she thought she could. It was nice to talk to someone for a while. You weren’t exactly an extrovert, but you were Southern enough you enjoyed being around people, and being able to talk to Kim, even if it was more or less small talk, made you feel better, and by the time the tour was done all of the earlier feelings were forgotten. You started to think that maybe this whole thing was a good idea after all.

“So no rest for the weary – first training tomorrow, yeah? Text me your address and I’ll pick you up. Since you won’t have a car, Uber’s always an option, but until you get sorted, you can get rides with me,” Kim said.

“Sounds good. Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“Don’t thank me yet, I’m picking you up extra early tomorrow – the girls’ll want to meet you before kickin’ balls at your head.”

“Well, I guess that’s only polite.”

You both laughed and hugged goodbye before heading your separate ways, you pulling out your phone to look up your new address to send it to Kim. This was a good decision, you thought, this was a good decision.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your apartment – or flat? – was nicer than you expected it to be. You had done a Zoom tour while you were still in Seattle and it looked fine, but you had tempered your expectations to be safe. Turns out, you didn’t need to. It was a two-bedroom and furnished with the basics, so there was plenty of space for you and plenty room to decorate as you saw fit. You had what was sometimes described as an eclectic taste by your friends, mainly because you liked to decorate with things that made you happy. That seems like an obvious thing to decorate with, but you were kind of – literally – a giant dork, which meant you had a lot of “nerd shit” as your friends would tease. You expected the Arsenal girls would do the same if they ever started coming over, but all of that would be a long time coming. Tonight, all you wanted to do was collapse into bed, which is exactly what you did.

Kim wasn’t lying when she said she’d pick you up early. At least she had the decency to bring you coffee, but she was completely taken aback when you admitted you didn’t really drink coffee and actually preferred tea. “Guess there is some English in you after all,” she had joked as she drove. She asked about your night and how you slept, and pointed out all the important-to-know shops and stops between your apartment and the training center. When you finally arrived, you asked her if she accepted tips for her tour knowledge – to which she responded with “only big bills”. You laughed as you retrieved your bag from the back of her car, and the two of you headed in.

The next few days were an absolute blur. You were introduced to everyone, and they all seemed pretty nice. McCabe kept talking about how tall you were, but from how everyone else acted that was normal. Manu was happy to have another goalkeeper in the squad despite the fact you would both technically be competing for the starting spot, even though you were explicitly hired as a back-up. At least it didn’t seem like there would be any weird hurt feelings or anything there, so you were glad for that. All your other time was spent trying to discern personality types and team dynamics, and also actually training. The coaches had told you they wouldn’t expect you to go full on for the first few days to give you time to acclimate to everything. You thanked them, of course, but that didn’t stop you from diving in head first.

By the time your official day three was over, you wished you had taken it a little easier. It felt like jet lag hit you late, on top of the normal physical tiredness of training. But that evening as the team as the team filtered out of the locker room, Katie McCabe slapped you on the back and said, “Drinks on you tonight, mate!” You turned to look at her, but before you could ask, Kim interrupted with a sharp “Katie–“

“Hold on, hold on! I don’t mean a big to-do, but we gotta welcome the newbie right, right?”

A couple of the other players voiced their agreement and Kim rolled her eyes. “Two drink maximum.”

“Four.”

“Two.”

“Three?”

“Two, McCabe.”

“Two and shots?”

“…”

“Two…and shots?”

“…one shot.”

“Fuck yes, best captain ever! You’re riding with us, Y/N!”

A mix of confusion and amusement spread across your face as you looked between the two of them, and Kim just shook her head and waved at you to go with Katie, so you let yourself be pulled away into whatever the night would bring.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Despite telling you that you were paying for drinks, Katie was nice enough to only make you buy the shots, and despite Kim’s hesitance at you all going out mid-week, it was a surprisingly calm evening. You ended up sitting at a table with just a handful of your new teammates. Most of them were joking around with each other, teasing and taunting. You sat quietly, unsure of how inserting yourself into the dynamic would come off. You thought of a few quips throughout the conversations, but made sure to hold your tongue, choosing to sip on your beer instead.

“You always this quiet?”

You glanced over in the direction of the voice, inadvertently locking eyes with Leah Williamson. You knew who she was, obviously – won the Euros and all. What you hadn’t known was that she was even more attractive in person. You didn’t even know that was possible, but it was certainly a pleasant surprise.

“Not usually,” you responded, drawing in a breath. “Just can’t get a word in edgewise with this one goin’ off.”

You gestured towards Katie, who didn’t even register the comment. It did get a chuckle out of Steph and Foord, though, which made you relax a bit. Looking back at Leah, she was still looking at you, but didn’t seem to react otherwise. You paused for a moment, chewing on the inside of your cheek, before deciding to just go for it.

“So in the summer do you ever get a weird tan on your forehead from frowning so much?”

That did draw Katie’s attention; you could tell from the way she practically guffawed.

“Oy, she’s got you dead to fuckin’ rights!” she said, leaning over to elbow at Leah. The Aussies had laughed as well, as did Kim. Leah didn’t look impressed at the remark, but from the twitch of her lips you would swear she was biting back a smile. She had nice lips. Were you staring at her lips? Your eyes flashed back up to hers and she was still looking at you. She would’ve been able to tell where you were staring. That’s…embarrassing. You swallowed hard, and quickly looked away, taking a long swig of your drink. If anyone else at the table noticed the interaction, they didn’t react. Katie started in on you immediately, dragging you into whatever she had been talking about before, and from there you spent the rest of the evening integrating yourself into the team.

The bar was really only starting to fill up when Kim decided it was time for you all to get a move on. There was some light-hearted grumbling, but everyone was professional enough to know how to behave. You had popped into the toilet before leaving, and when you came out of the stall, Leah was washing her hands. You hesitated for a brief moment before moving up to the sink next to her to wash your own hands, the little bit of alcohol you consumed tonight just enough to embolden you.

“Man, Williamson, what kind of a world is this where you’ve got those legs and no rhythm,” you teased, quickly busying yourself with the most thorough hand-wash you’ve ever done so you didn’t have to look over at her and see how poorly she took the remark.

“You spend a lot of time thinking about my legs?”

You froze. It would seem she didn’t take it too poorly at all. Taking a moment to compose yourself, you turned off the sink and turned to look at her. She was staring at you again. Seemed like maybe she did that a lot.

“Yeah, maybe,” you finally said. She hmmed a bit and cocked her head to the side. The glint in her eye was the only thing that kept you from worrying you were being too forward, and you silently prayed it wasn’t a trick of the fluorescent lighting overhead.

“You think you’re being all charming, with your little jokes?”

“No, not really,” you shrugged. “I think I have the personality of a 14-year-old boy and it’s the only way I know how to flirt with you.”

Leah changed at that. Her posture shifted. Her shoulders dropped slightly. The glint in her eye was gone. You fucked up, you thought. You’ve been here for four days and you already fucked up.

You moved to apologize at the same time Leah moved to respond, but both of you were interrupted by the door to the bathroom slamming open and a group of girls rushing in. You turned around and pushed yourself up against the edge of the sink to get out of the way, but Leah dipped her head down and shoved out past them, taking the opportunity to escape without you being able to stop her.

Yep. You fucked up.

[justrikiss]

sweater weather .. dallas winston x reader

fem!reader x toxic!dallas winston "it's too cold for you here.."

warning(s): toxic relationship! dallas keeps trying to push reader away but she won't budge, and he's js like "?? why r u still here" because he's TERRIFIED of love or commitment. things change toward the end though(?).

a/n: i have woken again to post for you guys 🥰 this is true dedication bc i started this at 1:03am and it's now 2:50 at the time of officially uploading this (with this a/n cause it's an edit). first i was gonna talk ab how dilf matt dillon is, then i was gonna make matt hcs, THEN i was gonna do dally hcs, and FINALLY i decided on writing this because toxic dallas is stuck in my headdd😣. i am a FIRM believer that dallas winston is EITHER loverboy softboy around reader OR cold toxic bf that is afraid of commitment and love because of his past in new york. NO OTHER WAY TO PUT IT!

dating dallas, you knew whaat would come with it. no, not just the constant "gettin' it in with the fuzz" or his repetitive fights at buck's on a thursday night, but the laid back "ya know i don't love anythin'" motto he always has going on. you and dallas had probably broken up 5 or 6 times in the past month. either he'd be out with another broad, or he'd be dismissing your feelings again and telling you "i mean i like ya, doll. that's close enough to what you're talkin' about, right? i mean what's love anyways? don't say things you don't understand.."

you'd recently just gotten back together with dallas. you'd broken up with him because you found out he was hitting on another girl, this time a soc named cherry valance.

well, in due time another argument would come up. so here you are, arguing with dallas again because you told him you loved him again and finally snapped at his unbothered, half-assed response.

"dallas i don't understand!" you yelled. "all i try to do is get you to love me because that's what a relationship is all about! i do everything for you and give you chance aftter chance. but no, you just HAVE to keep it up like you care about nothing i do for you!! what's the point dallas? why knock my heart around just 'cause you can't commit to anything?" by now tears welled up in your eyes, but your anger overshadowed the embarrassment you might have crying in front of dallas.

"i don't have to keep nothin' up doll, that's just me. man i thought this love problem you got goin' on in your head was a one time thing. if i knew you were always gonna be so emotional and stuck on tryin' to get love all the time then maybe i wouldn't have dated you at all!" dallas yelled back. you scoffed as you walked up to him, even angrier than before.

"god i hate you dallas! you're not fucking cool, and one day i hope you wake up and see that! the world isn't all bad you just make it out to be that way so you can have a reason to be miserable. i hate it all, and the thing i hate the most is that you just can't love me after all i do!" you gave dallas a little push at the last part. at this point, you couldn't stop the tears from flowing as you grabbed your stuff and walked home. not to mention, the whole argument was in front of the curtis' house. who needed tv when you had your weekly dallas and yn drama, huh?

seemingly on queue, rain started to pour, drenching you in water. you let out a huff in annoyance as you finally made it to your house, slamming your front door behind you.

meanwhile dallas stood in front of the curtis house still, watching you walk away. he tried to act like he didn't care, but deep down he knew he did. "did she get home safe? is she alright? man, i messed up. god, im a jerk. do i love her?" were the questions racing through his mind. he didn't know wether he should run to your house or keep going about his day like nothing happened.

the sound of the curtis' screen door closing brought back dallas' attention as darry walked up to him, trying to give whatever advice he could. "hey dal, maybe you guys should call it quits or somethin', i mean-"

"hey man how 'bout you shutup, alright? mind your own." dallas clapped back, interrupting darry. darry seemingly understood his defeat as he raised his hands in surrender and backed up into the house. all the guys asked what was going on, and as a response he just sighed and shook his head.

..

about an hour later you heard a knock on your door. assuming it was your best friend marcia, since you'd called her a couple minutes before to sleep over, you opened the door without checking who it was. to your surprise, you were met with dallas.

in his hand he had a rose, definitely stolen, some soda (i say pop where im from but whatever..), and a box of milk duds, also probably stolen.

you scoff out of shock before finally speaking. "dally? what's this?" you asked. dallas just rolled his eyes and responded "just let me in the house, man i wouldn't even be caught dead doin' this for anyone.." you couldn't help but grin as you let him in, closing the door behind him. yeah you guys had previously argued but, it felt good to be in dally's presence again..

you both took a seat on your bed, sitting in silence for a bit. finally, you decided you'd had enough of the tension. "so, you gonna explain where all this came from" you asked, pointing towards the items he'd brought you. "just thought i'd do somethin' nice man, that's it." he leaned back onto your bed a bit. "oh, sure okay." you responded dryly.

dallas sat back up and scooted towards you. "yn.." he said, making you look up and respond with a simple 'hm?'. "listen, i care about you alright? but you gotta stop with the saying you love me. i'm not a good guy and i don't do right all the time. you gotta love someone who ain't like me, alright?" you frowned at his words. "dallas, the way you see yourself is totally different than how i do. i know you've been through a lot that you'll probably never tell me about, but that doesn't mean anything in my eyes. i do love you and i won't stop saying it cause i know one day you'll say it back. sometimes you're a little cold, sometimes it's too cold for me here...but i'll keep tryin' anyways dally." you turned away from dallas as you spoke, tears filling up your eyes yet again.

dallas sighed and stayed quiet for a bit, seemingly thinking about what to say. finally, he replied "yeah, alright. hey ask me again in the future. maybe my world'll be different and i'll think about it, huh?" you told yourself "at least it was a start" as you nodded in response to dallas' words.

finally, you'd decided to move onto dallas' lap. he grinned as he leaned in to kiss you. and you guys kissed for a while too. dallas didn't need to say it, but you knew he loved you deep down.

and he knew it too.

yet still, you both awaited the next argument to come. after all, he's still (somewhat) the same old dally. only difference is you both knew he cared about you a bit (and sorta loved you too).

[kedsandtubesocks]

dance away your cowboy blues

Country Singer!Joel Miller x F!Reader

summary: who knew the man with the voice of an angel could break your heart this bad?

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, modern/no outbreak AU & Joel has both his daughters, exes to lovers with eventual husband!Joel, angst followed up by good sweet fluff, concert venue, light drinking mention, Joel being stubborn & bad at feelings, hints of spice, fools in love, reader is addressed as ‘honey, darlin,’ use of song lyrics in fic, Pearl Jam & Taylor Swift song mentions, soft & heartbroken!Joel, lovesick!Joel

word count: 6k

a/n: here we are - the last installment in our ‘Let’s Rodeo’ series & I’m so incredibly grateful to finally make it here, also this is my mini tribute to our boy and his SAG award! The main song Joel sings is this one and I highly recommend! Thank you to my forever babe @the-wild-wolves-around-you for letting me scream about plot holes & aiding my Joel brainrot, @tightjeansjavi for always being down to chat about Joel, and to @lowlights & @ahauntedcowboy for being my ever guiding forces for this series, thank you all… And finally to you reading this, thank you so much ♡

A year ago, Joel broke up with you on a warm early spring morning.

He arrived at your apartment, sat you down and shattered your world. You felt every range of emotion as he simply stood there like a man of steel.

So upset and angry, you wanted to rip your heart out and throw it at him.

Then later that week you found out his record was officially getting picked up and you crumbled.

Ending your relationship simply because he was about to step into true proper fame - you never took Joel to be a man so somberly callous. However, you began wondering if that’s what fame sometimes did to people.

When curiosity gnawed too hard, you’d Google him or even check Spotify. Simply catching glimpses of how big he’s gotten sent you spiraling. Last Thanksgiving, your favorite aunt threatened to lock your phone away when she found you upset in the bathroom after discovering Joel was performing at the Dallas Cowboys holiday game.

From that point on you refused to even check any amount of social media or update on him.

A few clunky first dates and a couple of ghosting experiences later, you’ve now decided to simply work on yourself and embrace the selfcare of being single.

It’s why when your best friend called you earlier today eagerly explaining how her parents had extra tickets to the Rodeo tonight, she playfully teased how she knew you didn’t have anything planned for this Saturday night.

You almost hung up on her, but you excitedly scrambled to get ready.

Now the smell of fried foods, popcorn, and beer cloud the air. The fairgrounds hold a chaotic but controlled lively energy. You never knew so many cowboy hats could exist in one space.

Once you meet up with your best friends' parents, you’re transported to a whole new area you never believed could exist during a rodeo. Lux and cozy, the VIP lounge gleams with its elevated experience. You knew your best friend’s mom worked for the construction company managing the arena. You just didn’t realize how big of a hookup it was. The VIP tickets allowed for full premium dining along with a couple of free drinks.

More importantly - it came with the best concert seats.

“In the dirt” is how they’re described because the tickets are literally stationed on the floor, in the dirt of the rodeo stadium, right by the stage.

Ecstatic and bubby energy now fills you. The food being served is divine and you gladly enjoy the free various drinks.

“So wait, did we figure out who’s performing?” You ask curiously while you lounge taking advantage of the nice seating area.

“Uh, I think my dad said it’s that band named Midland is performing today.” Your friend answers but then is quickly pulled away to meet more of her mom’s coworkers.

You’ve never heard of the band, but for a free concert you’re open to enjoy some live music.

It’s a trait you gained from Joel.

Because of him you grew to love music performances, the energy that comes with hearing the band, being among the hum of the crowd. The trips around Austin seeing not just him perform, but enjoying other concerts with him, let you appreciate and admire live shows.

Waiting for the concert allows you to enjoy some of the actual rodeo event. But the main performance of the evening soon arrives.

“You kids go enjoy! We’re getting a little too old and are just gonna stay back and enjoy the free food.” Your best friend’s mom grins with a wink.

The ticket advertisement wasn’t joking when it said close to the stage. The ground level truly sits on the dirt floor. The arena swallows you whole surrounding you like a strange fishbowl. A small crowd already lines the front railing closest to the stage. However sneakily you find a nice open spot by the side that gives a clear sight to the stage.

Even if you don’t know the band, giddiness bubbles in you electric.

You take in the massive general admission floor section already packed full. The band must be popular. So you take plenty of pictures and happily enjoy the time with your dear friend.

The lights dim and excitement crackles in the air. The stage lights up. The large backdrop screens on the stage flutter to life beginning to showcase different picturesque black and white shots of Texas.

Midland, you remember, is a city in Texas so the images make sense. A low strum of a guitar begins playing. The melody dances soft but in a quick beat, a hypnotic tune trying to rev up the crowd.

The tune brews up its intended magic that you even get swept up in the anticipation. The sound gets faster and the strumming is rather simple but so striking.

Then the music stops. Suddenly the lights of the entire stadium shut off. Wild galvanized screams erupt.

The lights brilliantly dance forth back to light. They all focus now on the performer who, like magic, now appears on the stage with the rest of the band.

And the lead singer is Joel.

Your knees almost give out.

Dressed in the most dangerous plaid green button up, it so simple yet beautifully compliments him. More grays pepper his beard and highlight his tousled curls. The brilliant stage lights bask him in a heavenly glow.

Your soul momentarily leaves your body the minute his voice sings his first note.

Instantly your best friend whips towards you panicked. She rapidly screams asking if you’re okay as she apologizes over and over.

“My dad must have gotten the dates wrong! God I should’ve fucking doubled checked or some shit!” She cries deeply apologetic and hurt.

You earnestly tell her it’s not her fault and it’s alright. It was just an unfortunate mixup.

“Do you wanna leave?” Your friend leans closer to you. Her eyes shine understanding and considerate. “We didn’t pay for these tickets and I promise you my parents will completely understand. We can say fuck it and bounce.”

You haven’t even completely processed it’s Joel. It’s like your brain went cloudy and now blinking out of the fog, your eyes return to the stage.

Joel isn’t an extroverted man. He’s reserved, quietly charming, even holds a gruff but poised grace. But right now, he’s an absolute sun on the stage. He’s radiant, naturally swaying to the music while singing his soul soul.

Maybe it’s the piece of you still horribly in love with him, or just the curiosity to see how this goes, whatever it is - you shake your head no.

“We can stay.”

Your best friend’s eyes go wide as saucers hearing your answer.

“Are you sure?” She presses and you nod your head.

“Yeah, let’s stay. Afterwards we can laugh about how old he’s gotten.” You laugh bitterly about him looking more aged even after a year.

When truthfully the stronger wrinkles around his face, the vibrant grays, all of his aging only intensifies his striking looks.

A canyon wide sized hole rips through your heart.

The song flutters to an end and the crowd claps with a thunderous roar. With a reassuring squeeze to your shoulder your dear friend nods then turns back to the concert.

You pray this isn’t the worst decision you’ve ever made.

Then Joel speaks.

“Howdy everyone,” his voice is still so devilishly thick and smooth as a shot of moonshine. His accent does his home state proud. The crowd absolutely adores him, screaming loud just hearing him speak.

“Thank y'all for comin’ out tonight. I’m Joel Miller and m’here to sing y’all a few songs.” So simple, casually eased, and it’s so Joel.

His gruff southern charm made you fall in love with him so fast and now it’s a unique brand of magic charming everyone under his spell.

Joel strums a few notes, rapidly shifting the tune and transitions into the next song.

You now fully soak in Joel.

He seems otherworldly, a god of music reincarnated as a Texan cowboy. You think back to the days sitting in his living room and listening to him play. You were honored to see that side of him, to hear him strum to life so much magic.

During the holiday’s Joel’s daughters, Ellie and Sarah, would often pester him to sing silly songs. He’d grumpily obliged but you knew he basked in their attention and love.

He loved to sing. You always knew he was destined for the stage like it was woven into his veins.

You still remember the day one of Joel’s acoustic performances blew up online gaining so much attention. The excitement and absolute joy you felt then still lingers in the corners of your heart. Although, those feelings have been gathering cobwebs.

There’s of course a bitterness seeing him, but also, an unbearably small twinkling pride knowing he’s here living his dream. The song finishes and again the stadium rumbles in applause.

“How y’all doin’ tonight?” Joel asks and your heart jumps hearing his voice again.

The crowd cheers back at him.

“Good good, let’s keep it goin’.” He yells back and then strums the guitar sharp.

That’s when the stage slowly starts moving.

It’s slow but with the surprise purpose to look out to the entire crowd. For some reason you almost laugh thinking of that man, who couldn’t even remember how to FaceTime on his ipad, on a full rotating platform.

However, the lyrics start and you realize he’s singing a heartbreak ballad.

If you’re going out with someone new, I’m going out with someone too…I won’t feel sorry for me, I’m getting drunk but I’d much rather be somewhere with you…

It’s hard hearing him now with how exhilarated the crowd screams at the stage moving. But you try to hear how the rest of the song unfolds.

At the chorus, your throat tightens.

I can go out every night of the week, can go home with anybody I meet, but it’s just a temporary high… ‘cause when I close my eyes, I’m somewhere with you

The words sting every inch of you, but you believe it has to be just a simple heartbreak story and isn’t about you, isn’t directed at you. Yet the words feel like sharpened edges of a broken mirror that seem to reflect every moment of your time with him.

Then the stage rotates to your side of the floor.

There’s no way he can see you or will even spot you. There’s a whole crowd stretching before him. You’re just a fish in a sea of fans.

Joel continues strumming, allowing his voice to so beautifully carry the emotion.

The stage, in its slow movement, is now front and center to your line of sight. Some girls at the very direct front of the railing scream and wave frantically at him.

A small smile tugs at Joel’s lips as he waves back. Joel’s eyes scan the rest of the crowd -

And that’s when he spots you.

Quickly, you rationalize he could be staring out behind you at someone else alongside the side railing.

But Joel’s eyes even narrow trying to focus more. Your gaze stays on him, like something inside of you refuses to waiver.

His eyes flicker with realization then turn into full moons.

He knows it’s you.

Joel continues singing the chorus but emotions cloud his face. His brows are furrowed hard, almost confused like he’s trying to really comprehend what’s going on.

You understand. You’d be so confused too if you were in his position. You’re still even baffled as to why you stayed in the first place.

The stage starts shifting back to the main center direction

But Joel cranes his face to the side, refusing to have his eyes leave.

His focus stays on you.

It’s obvious enough that your best friend now shakes your body.

“Is he staring at you?!” She tries to whisper but she ends up partly screaming.

You think maybe it’s a hallucination.

Yet Joel’s deep inky eyes stubbornly stay locked on you as he sings now.

If you see out on the town and it looks like I’m burning it down, you won’t ask and I won’t say… but in my heart I’m always somewhere with you…

Your world twists warped, melting into a sea of so many emotions you can’t stay afloat.

Joel finishes his song and the crowd enthusiastically cheers. Yet, it sounds muffled as a numbness crawls over you like a thick soupy fog.

You should leave. You need to. But you’re here now. And decide to see the end of this. If he’s singing about someone lingering within him, then you might as well make true to those lyrics.

Joel lowers his face for a moment and shakes his head. The mic faintly picks up his cough of a disbelieving laugh and your heart sinks.

“Alright folks, let’s jam.” He announces composed and brings his guitar to life.

He’s beautiful walking around with it. Strums effortlessly until he shifts from one guitar, his classic, to a more sleek all black styled one.

Joel lets the music and band take over while he makes the switch. He also leans in to whisper something to the stage hand.

Then as if nothing, Joel steps back into the limelight and illuminates the stage.

He walks around freely now that the stage stopped rotating. The current song is lively with a great beat and you hate how badly you want to bounce around to its infectious sound and the way Joel’s voice elevates the tune.

Caught up in the melody, you don’t notice until it’s too late. Joel walks over to the side of the stage directly facing you.

The guitar carries a large piece of this song’s bridge allowing his eyes to flicker across the crowd.

Until they return to your gaze. Stuck in his stare, Joel suddenly cocks his chin towards you.

Most of the crowd around you screams at his simple action. Even your best friend yells out a loud ‘holy shit’ but you stay quiet.

Not knowing how to react, all you do is stupidly shrug.

It’s awful, not even the best reaction you can give.

But Joel barks a laugh, a true laugh that thankfully happens at the tail end of the song, but your knees go weak.

You made him laugh.

On stage.

Heartache finds its way back into your system fiercer than ever and it poisonously tastes of adoration as well.

Joel transitions into another song. This time moving around the stage more towards the other side.

Yet, either his eyes flicker back to you, or he ends up walking to your section.

A part of you wonders if he’s doing this now to mock you, almost showing off how good he is knowing you’re here. You don’t believe Joel would be that heartless, but you hate how that option still lingers.

“He’s been walking over here a lot.” Someone even behind you even notices.

“Well he is old.” Someone yells back. “Maybe he’s just trying to keep his joints in shape.”

You almost want to snap back that he’s looking damn good for his age and in good enough shape that he kept you bent like a pretzel for practically a whole weekend, but you swallow back the protective bite.

You simply go back to enjoying the show, and it’s fantastic. You can’t deny that. Joel is a performer, keeps the crowd focused and engaged. He isn’t showy or dramatic but takes control of his presence on stage.

You think of the days seeing him at small bars around town, sitting on a stool playing till his heart's content.

Then he booked Stubb’s in Austin and when you watched him own that stage - you knew this was meant for him.

You’re reminded of that so vividly tonight.

“Alright, gettin’ to the end here.” He announces and the crowd sounds heartbroken.

“I know, i know,” he coos back soft and low. “But just wanted to say y’all have been lovely.”

So many shrill shrieks crack in the room and you almost roll your eyes.

Your best friend snickers beside you. “Gotta give it to him, man can work a room.”

She’s right of course. Though it’s still so surprising for a man grumpily reserved and introverted at times.

“This next one I hope maybe some of y’all will know.”

He strums the cords to Pearl Jam’s ‘Alive.’

What gained Joel traction online was his renditions and covers of various songs. He added his own country twang and twist to all the songs he covered.

Pearl Jam happened to be one of Ellie’s favorite bands. A hollow nostalgia rip through you, thinking of the two girls you miss.

The crowd ignites recognizing the familiar rock ballad now turned into the tune of a country song by Joel’s touch. He owns the solo and his husky voice melts into the lyrics beautifully.

Under your breath you sing along. You used to sing along when you cooked breakfast at his place or during drives with him and the girls.

It’s a beautiful fondness, yet one still barbed and so aching.

The song ends with the intense but small burst of fireworks that has the stadium cheering. You even clap.

“Appreciate y’all.” He addresses the crowd. “That’s a one of my daughter’s favorites so always means a lot when I get to play it.”

A smile you can’t fight tugs at your lips at the mention of Ellie.

“Now my daughters, they’re like night ‘n day.” Joel continues and your heart fills up so overwhelming fast for those girls.

“One of them, like I said, loves some Pearl Jam. Now my other daughter…” Joel pauses.

“She’s a big fan of someone by the name of Taylor Swift.”

The crowd absolutely explodes and you think you even feel the arena shake. Sarah honestly was a big fan and Ellie loved to tease her about it so much.

“Normally for this next and final song, I’d play ‘‘shake it off.’” Joel had a few songs of hers that he covered. That one was a fan favorite.

“But tonight, I'm itchin’ to play somethin’ else.” He continues.

You even perk up curious.

“So let’s end this on a high note, yeah? Sing along if you know this one.” Joel concludes.

Then the drums begin and the song bursts to life.

The stadium swims in a dizzying frantic energy.

The way Joel sings, he’s pouring his heart out. He’s memorizing. Utterly heart wrenching.

This is the finale, the end of this strange unreal dream you’ve wandered into. You wonder if he feels it too.

The song’s chilling bridge comes and Joel walks to stare directly at you.

I thought I had you figured out, can’t breathe whenever you’re gone. Can't turn back now, I'm haunted…

His eyes never leave yours.

The lyrics sear through your heart. You think about screaming the song to back him. He’s the one who left, the one who’s ghost lives among your ribs.

Then Joel hits the final high note, lets his voice carry the powerful finale, and the crowd roars in earth shaking excitement.

It’s magical, magnetic and utterly devastating in both the best and worst ways. Another few sets of indoor fireworks go off and the show ends.

Joel wishes the crowd a beautiful night and you’re left in a tangled web of emotions.

Your best friend immediately turns to see if you’re okay. While the crowd starts leaving, you and her take a moment. Out of the edge of your focus, you notice a crew member of the arena approaching the side of the rail. You don’t think anything of it.

“Excuse me,” until that crew member stands in front of you on the other side of the barrier.

Blinking absolutely confused you turn towards the man.

“I’ve been asked to escort you backstage.” He explains and your best friend gasps.

You wonder if the ground opened below and dropped you into a free fall.

Quickly you stammer out that you couldn’t. There's no way. Maybe the man must’ve mistaken you for someone else.

“Mr. Miller said you’d say something like that.” The crew member says reaching into his pocket to hand you something.

It’s a keychain.

Not just any keychain, but the one you gave Joel.

It’s a cartoon armadillo, dressed up as a cowboy, holding a guitar. When you first saw it you immediately thought of Joel. His daughters got a kick over it, giggled at how cute it was, and your heart had bursted when you saw it constantly among his keys.

Now the worn little cowboy creature sits waiting for you. It’s sweet marble like eyes stare up at you like a day hasn’t gone by since you gave Joel this.

Your best friend gasps, maybe not fully recognizing the keychain but understanding the significance.

You ask the crew member if your friend can maybe accompany you backstage, but he shakes his head a sad no.

“Then I…I can’t.” You shakily breathe out.

“Yes you can!” She interjects. “You gotta at least hear him out!”

You turn to her and find determination fiercely burning in her eyes as she nods.

“But what about you? I don’t want you or your parents waiting around for me.” You urge.

“Don’t worry about me or especially about them!” She reassures, even offering to wait for as long as you need.

You’re grateful, unbearably so and embrace her tight.

“You call me if he gets stupid. I don’t care backstage or not, I’ll go get you.”

You laugh watery at her well meaning threat and thank her. With a quick sweet goodbye, you follow the crew member along the rails until exiting.

The walk out to the backstage area fills you with a hurricane of emotions. What else could Joel say to you? A part of you wonders if he’s going to be cruel about this, having you simply show up to his dressing room just to laugh so arrogant and smug about how wonderfully famous he is now.

No, Joel isn’t that type of man.

Or you hope fame hasn't warped him into that type of man. Arriving at the green room door, your heart races loud in your ears.

The crew member knocks and before you can compose yourself, Joel opens the door.

He’s bathed in the golden amber light of the backstage room. It highlights all those grays again but also illuminates more of the time passed on his face. More winkles line against his eyes and when he fully stares at you, you wonder how different you might look in his eyes.

A jackrabbit like urge rushes over you to maybe flee, call your best friend to come get you.

“Thanks for comin’,” he mutters out. “Was worried ya wouldn’t show.”

You want to bitterly joke that you didn’t want to, but the armadillo keychain you hang onto holds the truth.

The door closes leaving you and Joel alone. Awkward stale air chokes the space.

You simply keep your attention on examining the room. His classic weathered jacket rests thrown over the couch. The rider is stacked with so many classic Joel snacks like his favorite jerky, popcorn, and even a few familiar favorite treats his daughters love.

Then your eyes catch the mug on the counter and you grin softly.

It must be filled with Joel’s classic drink - chamomile and ginger tea with honey for his throat.

“It’s…yeah. That’s it.”

You didn’t even realize you said anything out loud until Joel replies casuing your heart to jump. Finally your eyes find his.

It's a curse that your greatest heartbreak is this handsome. Exhaustion weighs in you and feels ancient, like if you carry the sum of so many lifetimes before.

“So…You wanted to talk to me?” You speak first, trying to keep yourself strong.

“I…uh yeah.” Answering so cryptically, his shoulders deflate. “How ya been?”

“Good.” You answer simple, curt almost.

There’s too many things that could’ve slipped out if you said anything more. Like how you selfishly kept one of his shirts and hate that the smell of him on it has faded like a wistful memory. Or how you can barely listen to Dolly Parton or Johnny Cash anymore because you’re reminded of Joel singing along to their songs.

So you turn the conversation back to him.

You ask how the girls are and Joel perks up, eyes shimmering with fatherly pride.

“Good, yeah they’re good. Uh, Ellie’s playing softball for the school again ‘n Sarah’s busy with student council. They’re still just bossin’ me all around.”

“As usual.”

You both say the same line at the same time and it chokes you up.

Joel inhales and his lips press tight, a hard line. The air tightens. No one says anything and now annoyance, frustration and maybe even a bit of panic claw at you.

“Joel, why am I here?” You ask him again.

Sighing, so weary and tired, he looks down.

Feels like ages pass between you and him. The faint noise of the stadium leaks into the room muffled.

You think of your best friend waiting and of your own heart waiting to end this.

“Look, it was good to see you,” you half lie. “You did great, hope you and the girls take care”

You turn to walk out.

That’s when he blurts out your name and you stop.

“I miss you.” He exhales.

“Miss ya so g’damn much. Every fuckin’ day.” He mutters.

When you turn back around, he stares at you unwavering. You don’t know what to say.

“Seein’ ya out in the crowd…thought m’heart was gonna give out.” He barks a weak laugh.

“Almost stoppin’ the fuckin’ show just to make sure it was you… y’look beautiful as ever.” His eyes haze over slightly, almost nostalgic.

Suddenly a heated spark rips into your chest, jagged edged and angered.

“You broke up with me.” You snap, voice already raw.

“I know,” Joel nods. “Worst damn decision of m’life.”

Your lips tremble. Everything hurts like a live wire is burning up your veins.

“Then why? Why did you do it?” You croak. You want to scream, maybe even storm out and not even give him the chance to speak.

“What? Did Mr. Big Country Star hate having a partner that wasn’t famous too?” Venom leaks bitter and poisonous in your mouth, choking your throat.

“Y’know god damn well that ain’t it.” He snarls back hard.

“No actually I fucking don’t know Joel.” You reply with a fierce bite. “You so conveniently left out any real damn reason why you were breaking up with me.”

“I said our paths were going in separate directions.” He glares hard at you now.

“And that’s about it!” Your voice raises and you hate it.

The tears come quicker than you hoped for and you hate that more.

“No real explanation,” you exhale, wanting to stay as calm as you can. “You couldn’t even give me that…what else am I supposed to think?”

Even dabbing away your tears, your composure is slowly slipping.

“I couldn’t do this to you,” he breathes out and it’s broken. His eyes are shimmering obsidian pools.

“This life, all the fuckin’ mess that comes with dating someone in the limelight, I couldn’t just throw that on ya.” He explains and the truth rings out a quiet hum.

“And you didn’t think to talk to me about this?” You whisper out now hurt. “Joel, I thought we were a team.”

“We are- were.” He slips and corrects himself fast. “I just knew if we fuckin’ talked about it you wouldn’t have understood.”

“Understood what?” You’re frustrated and it leaks into your voice.

“That I didn’t want ya fuckin’ hatin’ me!” He finally screams the weighted truth.

Stunned quiet but still slightly confused, you ask Joel what he means.

Pain travels across Joel’s handsome face as his jaw clenches hard.

“This shit…it takes away a lot.” He croaks out. “Hell I’ve even missed things with the girls. Didn’t want ya sacrificin’ your life or wakin’ up one day and realizin’ how much you’ve lost ‘cause of me…couldn’t let myself do that to you.”

Your chest aches like a rocket got shot into you. You’re angry he took that chance for you to decide, but you understand.

Joel never wants to be the cause of pain to others, especially those he loves.

He agonizes so much over his decisions and how corrupting he believes he is. When in reality every action he takes you know simply stems from his endless deep devotion to keep those he loves safe.

His decision to end your relationship was him, in his own frustrating Joel way, trying to keep you safe. Even if it was from himself.

Your lips tremble and you cuss bitterly hard under your breath.

“You damn stupid man.” You hiccup. “I didn’t…I don’t care what life fame would’ve given me with you. I would never resent you. For better or worse I just wanted a life with you, that’s all I ever wanted.”

Through a few sobs, you wipe the tears fogging up your sight.

Before you can see it happening, strong sturdy arms suddenly wrap around you and shock you breathless. Curled in Joel’s arms, it’s like a sad coming home party and you cry even more.

“M’so sorry, my darlin’.” Joel whispers against your forehead.

“I hate you.” You don’t. Even on your hardest days, you never could.

“I know, hate my fuckin’ ass too.” Joel replies.

His arms squeeze you tighter.

“Never stopped lovin’ you. Never will.” His voice wavers and now your arms wrap around him.

“You left.” You whisper back so small while tears continue to prickle in your eyes.

“I know honeydew, ‘n I’ll never forgive myself for it.” He replies fiercely like a strike of lightning with its bright force. “Been a fuckin’ mess without ya. Tommy would be the first to agree and the girls too.”

You absorb his words, basking in the safe haven that is Joel. Hours, maybe days pass just in his arms.

“Please forgive me, baby.” He whispers hoarse against your head.

You nod a soft yes.

Because even the part of you that wants to yell and stubbornly say no knows the ultimate answer is, and always will be, him.

“Of course…I love you.” You mutter half dazed against his strong chest. “Love of my life.”

Pressed so close to him, you feel how hard he swallows and his arms squeeze you impossibly tighter against you.

He says your name and you hum out a soft noise.

“Marry me.”

Your eyes, which have sort of glazed over, snap open wide.

“What?” You mutter out, maybe think you misheard him.

“Marry me.” Joel repeats himself.

You practically squawk like a confused bird and scramble in his arms.

“Joel Miller, you can’t be serious?!” You shriek through the tears still lingering in your voice.

Your face snaps up to him. His face is composed, almost serene in a way as he look at you with molten eyes.

“Serious as that g’damn ring I bought ya.”

His words are a mumble but so soft and unwavering. Your soul leaves your body like you were thrown into a cold lake.

“You what?” You stammer out.

“Y’heard me.” He nudges his chin to you. “A ring. Bought it after you dropped everything to go take care of the girls when they got sick.”

Too many emotions overwhelm you and the tears return with a vengeance.

Joel, like a steady man in the storm, places his warm hand on your face to gather you back into his embrace. He places the softest kiss to the side of your head.

“We gotta have a chat about discussing your feelings with me more, Miller.” You manage to chide him through your tears.

“I know.” He mutters against your skin while he continues softly kissing you with utter tenderness. “‘N I’m not lettin’ ya go again.”

You squeeze him hard, trying to burn his memory into your arms worried you’re going to wake up and find this is just a heartbroken hallucination.

“Baby,” he begins.

“Hm?”

“Stay with me for the night.” He urges. “The bus got plenty of room-”

“Ooo, is this what you say to all your groupies, Mr. Miller?” You tease with a snort.

“Behave.” His hand playfully squeezes your hip but his underlying somber tone even with his chuckle ignites a familiar heat brewing in you of the times he’s reprimanded you like that before.

“No groupies.” Joel reassures you. “Only you sweetheart, only ever gonna be you.”

His words flutter into your heart and make a nest there.

Gently you draw back to stare at Joel. Your hand moves to his face, aching to just touch him. Even in his arms you’re waiting for him to vanish from your touch as if he’s a figment of your wrecked heart, a ghost of lovers past haunting you now.

But his stubble tickles against your palm. Running warm as usual, his face feels like a soft morning sun. Your thumb strokes his cheek and his eyes close, melting into your hold.

Gently you place a soft kiss against the corner of his lips.

Joel now tilts his head so he can deepen the kiss before you can even draw away.

It’s not a consuming passion that you expected. No frantic fierce clash of lips or an overflow from a year passed between you two.

Instead it’s a soft welcome home. It’s a kiss you’ve given him when he’s come home late or when you leave for work.

Because his blood, his soul, you believe are simply stitched into the very fabric of you. It’s like a piece of you is returning back to you, or maybe back to your other home with him.

“So you gonna stay with me?” He mumbles against your lips.

“I don’t know Miller, you haven’t even offered to sign anything for me. What kind of famous country singer are you?” You smirk against his lips.

He laughs, hearty, a true wild deep one sweeping you into its joy.

“Hell yeah I’ll fuckin’ sign something for ya, our marriage certificate.” He snaps in classic grumpy Joel fashion and you almost think about dragging him to a courthouse.

You text your friend a million apologies and even take pictures of all the signed merch you’re bringing back to her.

Now in the cocoon of Joel’s cozy bed on his tour bus, among the warmth sheets, you hold the ring up in the dim light inspecting it. Because of course your secretly romantic man kept the ring with him.

“You sure you weren’t keeping this around for someone else?” You ask.

“Fuck no.” He growls low. “S’yours…only yours.”

From behind his arms slide around you and you’re encompassed by his swallowing presence. His beard scrapes against your shoulder.

“If ya don’t like it, can get ya another one.” He mutters casually but hesitant softness peeks out from under his gruff tone.

“It’s perfect.” You reassure him.

It’s the ring Joel got you then and it’s the ring you want now and always will. You even tell him that.

The kisses places on your bare shoulder whispers of his devotion.

“Honey.” However, his voice now is hesitant and makes you pause on your ring inspecting.

“I gotta ask…but do ya have my armadillo keychain?” Joel asks with an utter somberness.

You burst out laughing and it shakes your body.

“Honeydew, I’m being serious!” He growls out. “Want that lil’ fella back!”

Wheezing with giggles you lean back against Joel, floating so blissfully floating in renewed adoration.

Twisting in his arms your lips find his.

“Tryin’ to distract me ‘cause you lost him, huh?” He mutters.

You snort, shaking your head.

“No I just love you so much, you dumb cowboy.” You tell him.

“Your dumb cowboy. For better or worse.” He vows, kissing you back firmer now.

“For better or worse,” you nod breathing into him.

In this carved out slightly cramped space it feels holy, sacred, chapel like. You’re even afraid it might be gone tomorrow morning. However, the ring on your finger is the steeled reassurance it isn’t going anywhere.

But, just in case, you gather this glory and Joel into your arms with the promise of never letting go.

[jealousmartini]

KPOP DR INTRODUCTION

Old opening intro:

" Don't freak out! We are O.M.G! "

New opening intro:

" 6 friends and a dream! We are O.M.G "

╭╔═════════════♱═════════════╗

[ # 000 :: O.M.G's ORIGIN STORY ] small print

O.M.G, is an originally animated six-member girl group created in late 2013 by Lucia Martinez, or better known as "Keisha" from her character in O.M.G, under her youtube channel "Envious Martini" accompanied by her 5 other girlfriends for fun. They would post a lot of vlogs, grwm (get ready with me's), mukbangs, reaction/commentary, and livestreams, of course, none of these posts were ever serious. And a lot of their videos would be clipped to be used as memes that would instantly catch fire, and their faces would soon be very recognisable. In fact It wouldnt even take long for O.M.G to earn a lot of attention from Korean and Western K-POP fans when "Molly (claimed song!! playboi carti)", which is a scrap unreleased track by the way, would randomly go viral at 2.3 million views on youtube and Envious martini would begin to grow a humble following of 430K followers for their music, art and shitposts.

All music production, concepts, and choreography were created by Keisha with the help of the 5 girls behind the scenes. For example, in order for Keisha to be able to animate the choreography, the girls would make dance routines together, figuring out positions and record it for Keisha to take as reference. This also went for vocals and rapping. All girls played their parts accordingly to how they felt comfortable and were suitable to each member. And then it would be in mid-June of 2014 that the girls would decide to bring Keisha's art to life and replace the characters of O.M.G with themselves.

And in 2015, after being invited to many interviews and talk shows and entering many survival shows and competitions, it would be one competition show in particular, held by JYP which O.M.G would win, where they would officially be adopted under JYP entertainment and debut as a JYP girl group in the same year. But it wasn't until 2016 after much debate surrounding the group that O.M.G. was finally recognised and accepted as a KPOP group.

[ # 001 :: ALBUMS ]

[ disclaimer!! claimed songs are highlighted, and said songs most likely sound slightly different in my dr because of personal taste.]

Core genres :: KPOP, EDM, JERSEY CLUB, POP-ROCK, SYNTH, ELECTRO-POP, CONTEMPORARY R&B

Core aesthetics/concepts :: GIRL CRUSH, Chaotic academia core, Y2K, Girl-next-door

Themes :: Teenage years/Nostalgia, Self discovery, Love/self love, Random stuff

(2013) Mini album 1 :: Superstitious

Tracklist :: "track no.1", "track no.2", "track no.3"

(2014) Mini album 2 :: Lawfully Wedded Wives

Tracklist :: "What's your number", "Molly", "Greedy hearts", "girls never die", "heaven sent", "kinda miss you rn"

(2015) Debut Album :: Oh My Gosh

Tracklist :: "OMG", "Magnetic", "Ditto", "Lucky girl syndrome", "Dalla Dalla", "Woo! Ah!", "ETA"

Debut song :: Ditto

(2016) 1st Single :: Princess Sickness

(2017) 2nd Album :: New Region

Tracklist :: "La di da", "Supernova", "Crush", "life on Mars" , "JOYRIDE",

(2017) 3rd Album :: GINXED

Tracklist :: "Girls on wings", "LOOP", "Serotonin", "WOW", "Bitternes, the disease", "Yes, and?", "Charmed", "LOVE DIVE", "Accendio"

(2019) 4th Album :: Hopscotch

Tracklist :: "Six of em", "1 on 1", "Now what", "Super mario", "Jersey Girls", "Sir mix a lot", more to come...

(2019) 5th Album :: Joyride

Tracklist :: "Insidious", "It's my turn now", "Trance", "met her on the internet", more to come...

(2021) 6th Album :: TOTALLY MAXED OUT

Tracklist :: "I'm your magical girl", more to more...

[ # 002 :: SOLO PROJECTS ]

(2019) Debut Solo Single :: "Make way"

(2021) 1st Solo mini Collection :: Come again?

Tracklist :: "It's my turn now", "He ate my heart", "WTF?"

(2023) 4th Solo Single :: "My Chemical Romance feat. Megan the Stallion"

(2024) 5th Solo Single :: "ABCD feat. NAYEON"

(2024) 6th Solo Single :: "Boohoo"

(2024) 7th Solo Single :: "New Woman feat. CHAE KYUNG"

╰╚═════════════♱═════════════╝

╭╔═════════════♱═════════════╗

[ # 000 :: BASIC INFO ]

Date of DR :: ??/04/2017

Name :: Lucia R. Martinez

korean birthname :: Hwang Chae-Kyung

adopted name :: Lovely adopted surname

nicknames :: Kyu, Kyungie, Keish/Keesh, Chae-Bae, Vivi

Stage name :: Keisha/Kyu

Title names :: THAT girl, Mother Rabbit, Millionaire Maknae, KPOP's Princess, KPOP's Darling, KPOP's first Black Idol, KPOP'S secret ACE, KPOP's curly head, KPOP's BEYONCE

Positions :: Producer, Main/lead singer, main dancer, sub rapper, visuals, maknae, center maybe??

Date of birth : 20 / 06 / 1997

Age :: 19

Hobbies :: Music production, drawing, dancing, singing, baking, gaming

Languages :: English, Korean, Spanish, Portuguese, French, Mandarin Chinese

Ethnicity :: half puerto rican, half korean

Representative animal :: red panda / puppy / Bunny (I can't choose rn guys)

Representative colour :: orange

Representative dessert :: cookies and brownies

Fanbase name :: charmings

Training period :: ?? months

Company :: JYP

Group representative colours :: Blue and Pink

Brands :: Vivian Westwood, Diesel, Juicy Couture

[ # 001 :: FUN FACTS ]

She is older than Jungkook by 4 months. He knows this but still chooses to not use honorifics sometimes.

She is close friends with NAYEON, Sana, Chaeyoung, YOONGI, JIMIN, JUNGKOOK, Namjoon, J-hope, TAEHYUNG, Jin, BANGCHAN, Felix, Hyunjin, YUNA, Jennie, Jisoo, Tsuyu, WONYOUNG, YUJIN,

No one knows this yet but she has a crush on 6 of the idols listed and 2 of the highlighted names are part of the six, the other 4 are not

The red panda is her animal representative because there was a video circulating of her dressed up as a mascot for her highschool as a red panda and break-dancing

Speaking of dancing, she has mastered multiple dancing styles like house, vogue, street dancing, belly dancing, Jazz, Latin, Club, Jersey and Freestyle. She's got her own signature groove 💃🏾 🕺

She is the first kpop idol to be the ambassador for Vivian Westwood, Juicy Couture and Diesel

[ # 002 :: CONTROVERSIES AND SCANDALS ]

Next post...

∘₊ ✧───────────────────✧₊∘

[spikedhe4rt]

dating dallas hcs??

Dallas Winston x Reader Headcannons 🪐🪐

A/N: Hope you enjoy this. I just want to say, I love you guys so much. Thank you for all the support and patience! My request box is always open! <3

✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

❥ You guys met at bucks, you were a bartender and he lives there.

❥ He started to talk to you randomly because he was just bored.

❥ It turned into hours and hours of conversation and you guys just hit it off.

"Im Dallas Winston, Im sure you've-" You quickly interrupted with a sarcastic eye roll. "Yes, Ive heard of you. You say that to all the girls in town". He shook his head with a grin. "Nah, only the pretty bartenders." Cue another eye roll

❥ You were a fire cracker and he loved that about you.

❥ Yall became close to the point, he would rant to you about Sylvia. You had to hide your jealousy every time.

❥ You were talking to him about some rude person at work and he truly realized how beautiful you are. He really sat and stared for a hot minute.

"I wanted to punch that asshole so- Hello? Earth to Dallas fucking Winston?"  he jumped slightly at your words before cooly nodding.  "Im listening..."

❥ He was honestly conflicted about his feelings for you.

❥ It wasn't until you went on a date with someone else, he confessed.

"Dallas, whats your problem?" You didn't get why he was being such an asshole today. "Why didn't you come over today!?" he said angrily. "I had a date, y'know that!" he shrugged "Exactly!"

"It was just a movie and-" He looked at you with what felt like a hurt expression "and you didn't need to be with him. I like you." His hand came to the sides of your face and fiercely kissed you.

❥ You guys started dating after that. You guys never officially asked eachother, you just felt it.

❥ Getting to wear his Christopher.

❥ Walking around together with his arm around you.

❥Him never letting you walk around alone because he gets worried.

❥ The only time he will let you touch his hair is when you're stressed bc he's know you love it

❥ He leaves the biggest hickeys on you.

❥ His love language is acts of service.

❥ You not understanding half the stuff he says because the accent but you know he means well.

❥ He calls you doll and sweetheart.

❥ Always getting flustered when you patch him up bc he claims you have to sit on his lap to do it.

"Dallas, I don't need to sit on your lap to do this. You're fine just sitting on the counter" you say with a eyeroll.

❥ When you guys sleep together, he always ends up holding you.

❥ Movie dates

✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

❥ When in missionary, he props your legs on his shoulders so you can feel him deeper.

❥ He use's overstimulation as a punishment and reward.

- "Dally please, its too much." You pant out as Dally brings you to your peak for what seems like the 3rd time. "Weren't you just begging to cum like a pathetic slut after I said no" His thrusts became faster as you moaned out. "You can take it, sweetheart."

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

- "Dally please, more!" You plead for another orgasm, feeling so good that you don't want it to end. You clench around him, moaning out. "You want more, huh? Ill give you whatever as long as you keep being a good girl for me." He continued to fuck you till you both were spent.

❥  He spanks/smacks your ass raw when he hits it from the back.

❥ Leaves loves bites all over your chest.

❥ Loves to tell you everything he going to do to you.

"Oh fuck, Dally faster!" you mewled as he fingered you. His two digits were hitting your g-spot with every thrust. "You like that, huh? Im not gonna stop till you cum all over my fingers."

❥  When he eats you out, he sucks your clit just right and he knows it too.

❥ Has a degrading and praise kink.

"Such a pretty little slut for me"

[stinkygirl009]

Johnny Cade headcon’s!

Johnny Cade X y/n

Warning’s: none, just fluff:) ‘did I miss anything?’

Johnny cade! Who was seated next to you in English class and almost got annoyed because of it.

Johnny! Thought at first you were going to be like every other snobby rich soc.

Johnny! Soon realized that you were actually nice and a well mannered girl. He started talking to you a bit more. When he told dally about you, Dallas internally groaned, with his experience with girls he thought you sounded like pretty girl who was trying to pull Johnny’s heartstrings. (That’s just because dally has bad taste in women tbh.)

Johnny! Who was hesitant on asking if you wanted to hangout with him and the gang to the drive-in. And of course said yes, because why not? He was a nice guy and you knew ponyboy in middle school and are still friends to this day but don’t talk as much, and your friends were going that same night so what’s the harm?

Johnny! Who was a complete nervous wreck when he saw you walking up to him and two-bit at the drive-in.

“Hi Johnny,” you smiled at him, “hi two-bit” you look over to two. “Hey girly” two-bit laughs and looks at Johnny. “Well you two have fun together” he says jokingly and pats Johnny’s shoulder and runs off into the snack bar. “Hi.” Johnny said awkwardly shifting his feet. “Um-” he looks around trying to find something to talk about.

Johnny! Who took to long to make conversation and you smiled. “Why are you nervous?” You giggled looking at his awkward stance. “I’m not nervous” he laughed a little bit.

Johnny Cade! After A few months later were both official and hung out almost everyday after school and got soda’s from the DX and walked around different neighborhoods.

Johnny! Finding out that you lost a few friends after a greaser found out that you both were together and told the whole school, that somehow made news to your parents…

Johnny! Who felt like it was his fault and reassuring him that it’s fine. “If they were my real friends the wouldn’t have left.” You say giving a quick peck on his cheek. he rolled his eyes annoyed with himself. ‘Shouldn’t he be the one reassuring you?’ You honestly didn’t care what anyone else thought or said about you two along with your parents.

You! Did get picked on for it though, but a few people shot them down as soon as someone said something, mostly because they knew you were a nice girl and got along with people.

Johnny Cade! Who surprisingly really good at skipping rocks on water.

Johnny Cade! Who likes when it rains.

Johnny cade! Who lets you yap your little head off to him and shove magazines in his face to show him something that caught your eye.

Johnny cade! Who lets you talk about anything to him. Either it having to due with school dress code or something that you heard. he’s always open to listen to you, he wants you to not hold back on your thoughts or opinions like he had to:(

Johnny! Who Had to face a lot of criticism for dating you, and that mostly being Dallas saying. But he didn’t care, as long as he was by your side he wouldn’t have a care in the world<3

[kaytheday]

Dallas Winston and his Introduction into the Gang

Some story head canons on how Dallas found himself in the Curtis gang.

After Dallas left NYC, (for reasons he’s never brought up to anyone) he was staying in a town near Tulsa.

He was sleeping in alleys and abandoned lots, (because he was a 15 year old kid with only enough money for the bus ticket out of New York) he spent most days in bars around the area or other public places that nobody would kick him out.

That’s when he met Buck Merril.

Buck was making a drop off to a guy he knew.

This also happened to be the bar Dallas was spending the day in.

That’s when he got a good look at Dallas. A young shifty-eyed kid who looked beat up and tired.

“Aren’t you too young to be in a bar this early kid?”

“Aren’t you too old to be out of the nursing home this time of day?” Dallas retorted quickly while Buck only smiled and shifted the chew in his lip.

Then he got to talking to his friend who was the owner of the bar. This guy explained that Dallas came around during the day and often slept out back. Judging by the limp he was walking with, the black eye, and cut up face he suspected that the kid might be homeless or running from someone.

Buck, thinking of his days running from his home, offered Dallas a place to stay in exchange to watch the bar some nights. He did know how to bartend, right?

Dallas took it and rode back to Tulsa with Buck.

So that's how it went for a couple months. Dallas stayed in a trashy room above Bucks bar, running it most nights and not quite trusting Buck at all.

Buck could tell that Dallas was still jumpy and was hiding whatever happened in his past. He never pushed, not really caring all that much, he’d done all that he could for this kid.

Then a kid with gleaming eyes and rusty sideburns made a stop at the bar one night.

Two-Bit Mathews was alone, looking for booze, a blonde, or even a fight.

So he sat at the bar and after throwing down a couple drinks, he went over to a big guy and started wisecracking. Pissing the guy off to the point where he wanted to take it outside. Two-Bit was a laughing drunken 16 year old, barely dodging the punch this guy threw. It caught him on the side of the head.

He hit him again, but before this guy could do anything else, Dallas Winston stepped in. Shooting the bigger guy a couple hooks and jabs, enough to knock him to the ground. The wisecracker, who hadn’t managed to spill too much of his drink, jumped to his feet.

“Shoot man, that guy was twice your size and you dropped him. You can’t be more than a kid, huh?”

Dallas grinned coldly. “And you can’t be more than a stumbling drunk.”

“I’ve got some friends racing in some sort of drag race tonight. Things might get out of hand, you wanna come?” Dallas found himself nodding.

The drag race was where he watched two crazy greasers nearly kill themselves over a $15 bet.

Following the race, a fight broke out and he helped Two-Bit and his gang.

On the way back he officially met those two crazy greasers. Sodapop Curtis and Steve Randle. Soda was happy, golden, and filled with an excited electricity that Dallas had never seen before. Steve was pissed that his hair had gotten messed up in the scuffle, he was attempting to gel it back in place. He was also introduced to the fearsome Darrel Curtis. (who had his back in the fight without even knowing his name)

Later in the year, after a couple more drag races and making trouble at the Nightly Double with this crew, they said he was a part of the gang.

Dallas nearly found himself trying to explain that this wasn’t a gang. A gang had rank, position, and fearsome discipline, but he didn’t bother. He figured being a part of a gang was different across different states.

He definitely liked Oaklahomas version of a gang better than New York’s. This gang felt like a family. One he could stick with.

[rileyh20]

I feel like dallas would have so much fun with dating a shorter reader

I'm talking purposefully moving things just a little to high or far back on top shelves, hiding stools, using their head as an arm rest stuff like that

Just being the most teasing bastard ever lmao

Could u maybe write some head cannons abt that? Like maybe some suggestive and some not? Only if u feel like it ofc, love ur blog(page? Whatever it's called lmao) have such a nice day!!

Yeah I can do that, not sure about the suggestive stuff as much, but maybe you can take some things off here as suggestive?

You didn't specify male, female, or anything, so it's gender-neutral!

(And I think it's blog)

I had a hard time thinking these HCs, so, sorry if they aren't the best!

(This also means I don't have that many of them, very sorry)

Dallas "Dally" Winston x Short Reader:

You are totally right about the shelf thing, he would purposely put things he doesn’t want you finding/grabbing up high and would also just put things of yours up there for fun

He made a mistake one time by putting something you really needed that day, finding you on a very unstable chair and about to fall over (He catches you and then scolds you about it, it gets into a petty “fight” kinda thing)

He would totally use your shoulder (Or head depending on how short you are) as an armrest

He probably enjoys picking you up a lot, and swinging you around his shoulder or like a front piggyback ride?? (Like the one where you wrap your legs around his hips or something, I hope that makes sense-)

He lets you borrow shirts sometimes (Or you steal them), and he laughs at you because sometimes they look like short dresses with how tall he is and how short you are

Someone thought you were his little sibling once from how short you are (Cousin works too)

The amount of times he calls you short daily is mind blowing

Shortie is your official pet name in this relationship, not anything else cute, just shortie (You get him back by calling him a weird giant or something)

You like to steal his jackets because they make you feel like you’re wrapped in a big blanket

He has to bend down to kiss you, and or he just picks you up to save both of you the trouble

In modern AU, he would do those trends like showing your short friend/partner or your pet the top of things/places they’ve never seen before cuz they are short

Sorry it isn't that much, but this is what I could come up with!

[zvdvdlvr]

Hii!!

I love your work, and was just wondering if you could do headcannons for Dallas Winston dating the really happy-go-lucky Curtis sister. Her and soda are twins so she’s pretty much soda but a girl. She’s very affectionate and always needs hugs and cuddles! She is really happy and excited, but also sometimes feels like she can’t be sad or angry around people she loves.

Xx Rose

being soda's twin and dating dally HC's

-> navi. | -> outsiders masterlist

-> warnings: foul language, lil angst, FLUFF, smoking, making out, getting arrested, protective brothers, sexual scenarios (no smut)

-> reader's pronouns: she/her

-> pairings: romantic!dallas winston x reader, platonic!sodapop curtis x sister!reader

-> a/n: wait i loved this request sm!! i hope i did it justice &lt;3

{💖}

JSKSJWIDJ

the curtis's were very very very VERY hesitant for you to start dating dally

what if you broke up? would the gang have to pick sides? dally or the curtis's sister?

9no its too risky

it was only when the guys could list all the times they caught dally staring at you with a fond smile and dazed eyes did they realize his feelings for you were legit

as the oldest, darry of course had to give the 'you break her heart i'll f you up, no hesitation pal'

dally sat through it all while soda watched him intently

when you were official and shit, dear god the shit you'd do

it was like

humorously atrocious

to put it into words, two-bit's shenanigans times 5

I DISRESPECTFULLY RESPECTFULLY BELIEVE

a.) soda takes it upon himself to stay up and get all the details when you come home late from a date

b.) soda gags everytime you and dally are in an embrace for a little too long

as the 'Curtis Cuddlebug', you like to hug and be touchy because you didn't have that for some time or whatever BUT soda 13929292093929381% feels weird watching you hug dally instead of him

like,

you and soda (as twins) had the closest bond of anyone in the gang

so anytime shit hit the fan, you'd find yourself going to soda and him to you

youd gossip and shit talk and fight and do all the fun sibling tingz

but then

his heart kinda sinks when he realized he hasn't cuddled w you for a couple days

but its not like he can really say anything if youre happy

MOVING ON

shotgunning. with dallas.

MEOWMEOWPURRAWOOOOGAAA

thats when you really hash out some feelz

you'll pass the blunt back and forth, staring up at the stars (youre in dall's car bc he knows ur a sucker for watching the stars and cuddling and blah blah blah)

if you had like brought a blanket or two, dallas would a hundred percent pull you into him so he could get some lovin'

dally only likes affection coming from you and you alone argue with the fucking WALL.

some days you'll just sigh and bury your head into his chest. dally'll rub your back and smiling when you squirm to get closer to him cuz bros a little touch starved

"dally?"

"yeah?"

you sigh again. "i feel like shit sometimes. a lot actually"

this makes dally a lil worried "what?"

"soda 'n i are... happy-go-lucky, y'know? we gotta be smiling all the time, always... strong; confident," you tell him

dally's absorbing your words, wondering where tf ur going with this

"but then i realize i dont wanna be strong all the time. i know soda feels the same way i just," you sniffle lightly

dally's eyebrows? through the roof. is he uncomfortable? undoubtedly.

he isnt too comfortable with the way anyone expresses emotions tbh

but will always attempt to comfort you in any way he can

"whatchu mean, doll?"

his heart flips around when he hears you choke back a sob

"means i don' wanna always be smilin' and jokin' and not be taken seriously. i fuckin'- i need a break dall. a break from everything"

dally snuffs out his joint in an ashtray he set on the car and wraps both arms around you as you cry in his arms

he didnt know any of you felt like that

wow okay

if you stayed at his place at 'his' room he's literally heart eyes at you weari g his boxers and his a t shirt

he'd just "c'mere sweetheart lemme show you how loved you are" and pull you onto him

thats about as far as you get with him and the "L'' word

dally???talks????in?????his??????sleep???????

it's so adorable i think it was one of Dillo's works but he'd be a mumbly and clingy and HOLY FU

where can i get one?

back to sussy soda

he's happy for you. he really is

but dallas is snatching up his best friend, sibling, and cuddle bug from right under his nose

soda's pretty protective idgaf

you'd still have ur gossip sessions, but soda still feels bizarre when you're with him

something changed when you and dally started dating

if (IF) dally proposed

it'd be casual

like im talking

dq date, in the middle of drinking a shake he'd pull up with

"marry me doll?"

YESS MA'AM

dally is highkey afraid of rejection, now that he's so involved with you

but you smother him in kisses to prove otherwise

i cant

i

sorry but i cant get the visual of tired!dally out of my head

specially tired!hammered!clingy!dally

he'd attatch himself to your waist when he's 🤏🏼 that close to passing out because even absolutely hammered, he knows youll take care of him

absolutely refuses to let yoy pay bail for him when he gets arrested

but dont expect him to pay bail for you either bc bro kinda poor

he'd prolly just do smth to be in the slammer with you

#couplegoals

but you will 110 percent be getting the Disappointed Look™️ from darry

soda would point and laugh

pony would just shake his head with a knowing smile

once again:

where can i get one???

[cartermagazine]

Today In History

Doris Miller, African-American hero of World War II, the son of sharecroppers Connery and Henrietta Miller, enlisted in the United States Navy at its Dallas recruiting station.

Following bootcamp training in Norfolk, Virginia, he was assigned to the USS West Virginia as a messman.

On December 7, 1941, Mess Attendant Second Class Doris Miller was collecting soiled laundry just before 8:00 A.M. when the first bombs blasted his ship at anchor in Pearl Harbor. Miller went to the main deck where he assisted in moving the mortally wounded captain.

He then raced to an unattended deck gun and fired at the attacking planes until forced to abandon ship. It was Miller’s first experience firing such a weapon because black sailors serving in the segregated steward’s branch of the Navy were not given the gunnery training received by white sailors.

Navy officials conferred the Navy Cross upon Miller on May 27, 1942, in a ceremony at Pearl Harbor.

In addition to conferring upon him the Navy Cross, the Navy honored Doris Miller by naming a dining hall, a barracks, and a destroyer escort for him. The USS Miller is the third naval ship to be named after a black Navy man.

In Waco a YMCA branch, a park, and a cemetery bear his name. In Houston, Texas, and in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, elementary schools have been named for him, as has a Veterans of Foreign Wars chapter in Los Angeles. An auditorium on the campus of Huston-Tillotson College in Austin is dedicated to his memory. In Chicago the Doris Miller Foundation honors persons who make significant contributions to racial understanding.

CARTER™️ Magazine