#if it's not in Colorado it's not fucking worth it

[nonbinarymissdude]

actin a fool in the oklahoma city whataburger cause they will never see me again

[explodingfurby]

Look at this fucking stick

[19871997]

.

[crow-talks-hockey]

fuck. k/cherov is leading again... sigh. at least when nate inevitably gets that lead back tomorrow IM GONNA BE THERE TO SEE IT 🤭

[dionysus-complex]

.

[killerchickadee]

Now my mom is all "I mean no pressure, if you don't want to come to Colorado you don't have to!" Etc and making it seem like I'm just going out there for one day for the concert and I'm like.... regardless of how I feel about Colorado I'm not gonna go all that way for a single day. I don't want to go at all but my mom's gonna be upset if I don't even if she says she's not.

The good news is though that my friend will watch Oscar if I do go, so I don't have to worry about boarding him somewhere. The fact that he was an adult cat when I adopted him and he's got such bad separation anxiety leads me to believe someone dumped him, so I'd be heartbroken worried that he thinks I'm abandoning him if I took him somewhere where he had to stay in a cage for a few days.

I'd feel bad leaving Ollie alone for a few days but I've done it before and he was fine. Just... very needy when I got home.

[fractallogic]

Me: dad what do you think should I renew my lease for a full year given I’m trying to get us to move to Denver asap because the constant gray and rain makes me want to die but also don’t really know where I’ll get a job even more now

Dad: send me your lease but if nothing else you could move in with us down here!! That could be fun!! We have lots of space!!

Me: …absolutely not. ABSOLUTELY not. NO.

[catboybiologist]

The year is 2030.

At the Cincinnati stop of her "world tour", Taylor Swift ends her set. As she walks off the stage, she leans into a nearby mic and says "oh by the way, I'm lesbian".

She's still milking a public relationship with a man named Chett Whitesman, so this is met with a combination of cheers and confusion. Immediately, the media mobilizes. They have to intercept her before she gets onto her private jet, and ambush her for an interview. Luckily, this has become much easier these days. Since the release of her 2027 album, "The Carbon Emissions of my Heart", T Swizzle has performed a ritual sacrifice of an endangered species on live camera every time she boards her jet, a #girlboss way of saying that her emotional pain can only be healed by the tortured screams of drowning polar bears.

(Since this practice started, a devoted faction of Swifties have started a carbon negative algae farming commune, with the express intent of negating taytay sweezie's contributions to climate change. Apparently "her tortured soul deserves to pollute without guilt". They haven't even come close to their goals.)

Taytor Twift is intercepted after this ritual, as she's walking up the steps of her plane. When asked what the lesbian statement was about, she nonchalantly says "oh, I thought it was clear that was a joke. Anyways, G T G!" , before biting into the still beating heart of an emperor penguin.

During her flight, discourse on the newly renamed twitter-X-ElonIsExtremelyVirile Corp goes nuclear like it never has been before.

There's a camp of swifties thoroughly convinced that her relationship with Chett is all a beard so that she can still keep touring in the New Christian Republic of Florida, and the interview at the plane was deepfaked.

A different camp of Swifties feels insulted and betrayed that she would be anything less than a paragon of allyship. To them, this is the worst slight the queer community has ever experienced.

A third camp of Swifties insists that she *is* dating Chett, and is also a lesbian. They get insulted that anyone would police Taylor's labels. Comparisons to the Boulder, Colorado shooter are made.

A group of non Swifties tries to point out that everyone is fucking insane and that 'ole taytay regularly tear gases pride rallies to make way for her promenade to stadium venues, and who the fuck cares about this shit and point out that what a billionaire celebrity does for five minutes of PR is not worth your attention or discourse, nor does it warrant harassing other people for the labels *they* use, and isn't it really fucked up that Taylor is making a joke of how people describe their identities? They are promptly doxxed, harassed, and banned.

Bi lesbian discourse is off the charts. Nothing Taylor said has anything to do with it, but it happens anyways.

A lone transsexual who actually goes outside once in a while tweets "hey guys isn't it kinda fucked up that 2.4 billion people have been displaced by mega storms this year that her jet contributes to and is also specifically designed to fly over" and is promptly doxxed and harassed off the platform.

After an exhausting 9 minute plane ride, Tailing Swiffer lands in Columbus for the next performance of her world tour. She unveils a new single that contains the line "ride my horse after dumping him, stepping up onto my SAD dle".

All is forgotten. All is quiet. The Swifties continue as usual, moving on to the next discourse about these lyrics.

[the-nature-of-the-art-beast]

Texas' Big Gamble

For every blessing, there’s a curse and a lot of Texans are hoping this year’s Texas Legislature will bless the Bluebonnet State with legalized marijuana and gambling. First off, marijuana should have been legal since day one. It really is no worse than alcohol and by making it illicit from the beginning, that only made marijuana that much more sought after. This is not a shocker, we all figured…

[yidiyada]

Being smart (rich) enough to choose a less populated city to sign up for Taylor tickets

[anticipatecrime]

𝙞 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨 𝙠𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙮𝙤𝙪 | colby brock & sam golbach x fem reader

summary: slight enemies to lovers trope, sam/colby, and you are from kansas, and make haunted content, only difference is they blew up months before you did. you and the guys have a rocky relationship, jokingly but also not jokingly hating eachother. what happens when you both plan to film at the stanley on the same day. | a/n: hey guys, uh warning for like the beginning of smut(?) also please call me out on spelling mistakes!! also don't be shy to request jake words: 12k

"hey guys, welcome back to another video! if you saw my recent tweets, you'll know that our next series is going to be based around the stanley hotel, one of the most haunted areas in the us." you introduced the video idea. "and to make it even more special, we're going to be joined by three very special guests that you may recognize."

you pan the camera towards your three best friends. "vera, milo andd finn!"

"hi guys!" vera smiles, waving to the camera, adjusting her backpack on her shoulder. her light brown hair blowing in the slight wind.

"hey whats up." milo says, putting his hand to his mouth and biting his lip, making his brother roll his eyes.

"nobody likes that." finn murmurs seriously, before chuckling. "hi fans! i've missed you guys." he makes a heart with his hands.

"cringe alerttt." milo snickers, making fun of him.

"okay, okay calm down guys, i need to explain to them what's going to happen today." you stated, setting down the camera onto a tripod, before sitting down yourself on a bench outside of target. "come sit down, i want to get a cool shot."

one by one they sit down on the bench with you, everyone squished so they could be in frame. "okay, so! i'm hoping to film the entire trip so i have a series worth of content for you guys. and i was thinking on how we should get to the stanley, like by plane or something but then i had a thought.. what if.. we did.. a roadtrip!" you announce to not just the viewers but also your friends.

"what." milo gave a disapointed look. "how long are we going to be in colorado?"

"i was thinking that we start driving there tonight, it's kinda a long drive so we'll get to colorado around 11am, and we can like chill out until we check in at stanley around 5, explore the most haunted areas, and then we can sleep for a bit and then wake up at 3am." you explain, earning a nod from the group.

"i'm thinking we only stay there overnight and then we leave in the morning around 10 or so, another 17 hours back, makes it just like two days and a half i think." you say, overexplaining the time, to make sure nobody was busy.

"what day is it today?" vera asks, looking to the two boys.

"wednesday." finn answers, giving a smile to the girl, earning a smile back.

"wait wednesday? shit i don't think i can go y/n, i have a modeling thing on sunday." milo shrugs.

"you'll be back saturday morning, though." you say, raising an eyebrow, and crossing your arms.

"i need my beauty sleep, this trip sounds exhausting, i can't come back, having a shoot with eyebags." he says, earning a scoff from finn.

"whattt." vera pouts at him. "but the ghost squad won't be the same without you! the viewers will be so upset at you."

"yeah! milo we need you to come with us, you always make for good content." you say, before giggling.

he pauses for a moment, thinking about his schedule before looking to vera. the two had a weird relationship, something along the lines of friends with benefits.

finally, he shrugs. "i guess i'll go, but i need to be back that morning, i need time to recharge." he says.

"awesome!" you smile, jumping out of your seat on the bench. you glance at finns watch. "okay so it's about 4, we need to leave around 6. so i'm thinking we get loads of snacks and some ghost type stuff here at target, get to the apartment and then we can pack like anything we need."

"fuck yeah." finn nods. "i'm down for snacks." he laughs as you jokingly pass your credit card to him.

"since i'm dragging you guys out here, the snacks and stuff is all on me so don't worry about paying."

"yoo really?" finn actually snatches your card this time, laughing mischievously.

"are drinks on you too?" vera asks, with a smug smile. "i could use some vod- i mean water." she looks into the camera directly as she corrects herself. she coughs. "water, yes water."

"i fucking love water." milo laughs, wrapping an arm around vera, making her blush.

you clear your throat, before looking to finn, and pulling him along into target. "lets go guys! we don't have much time."

the four of you grab a cart, trying to keep the camera down so an employee doesn't see and kick you out. vera suggests you getting into the cart, so you do and suddenly shes pushing you down aisles at rapid speed.

you scream at the movements. "vera! be careful!" you laugh, the boys chasing you two down.

"how will we get snacks if you two are fooling around with your shenanigans." finn comments, trying not to burst out into laughter.

"okayy, fineee." vera stops the cart, making it jolt.

"so, what snacks should we get?" you ask from inside the cart, looking at the chip selection.

"oo definitely doritos." milo reaches for them, throwing them in.

"i want ms vickies." you say, grabbing two kinds, both your favourite, and finn's.

"hmm i don't know what i want, i'm more craving licorice." she walks away into the direction of the candy aisle.

"she left us!!" you pout, encouraging finn to push the cart slowly.

as you three make it to the other aisle, you see vera with her hands full of candy. licorice, m&ms, gummy bears, popcorn and some chocolate.

"yes the m&ms!" you shout, making grabby hands towards the small package.

"i know you so well." vera snickers, chucking not one but two packages directly at you. "score!!"

"do we need any other snacks?" you wonder aloud, looking back to the guys.

"i could use a drink." milo comments, shrugging.

"to the drinks!"

everyone goes completely different in their choice of drink. you watch as finn reaches for two monster cans, vera on her tippy toes trying to grab a bottle of fresca, and milo looking at coconut milk. you scoff and roll your eyes at that.

finn notices the look and shuffles over to you, whispering behind his hand. "he's so lame."

you try not to laugh, as he's a few meters away. "i agree. i don't know what vera sees in him." you mutter back, knowing that finn has been in love with her since preschool.

you had all gone to the small school, finn meeting vera, and milo meeting you in kindergarten. because of classes you didn't really know finn until he was at vera's 6th birthday party.

and ever since you three had been the best of friends. with milo he was slightly different. it was like he was popular since the womb. he came out and immediately was the cooler sibling. it took a few more years for him to be apart of the group, only really joining because vera had a huge crush on him.

it was a weird love triangle. them being brothers and all. it was obvious milo didn't have feelings for her but he couldn't not play into it.

"i'm being serious, i can't believe she's still all over him." you say. "he treats her horribly. you really should confess." you encourage him.

"dude, i'm not ruining our 18 year long friendship just because of my dumb feelings." he sighs disappointingly.

"atleast consider it. you're perfect for her!"

"perfect for who?" both you and finn become still, eyes wide turning to the girl standing infront of them.

"perfect for selena gomez." you blurt, before whispering into her direction. "his celebrity crush." you shrug, trying to hide what was actually happening.

finn rolls his eyes, annoyed. "yeah."

"oh cool. she's hot i guess." she turns away and walks back towards milo, attempting to look over his shoulder.

"close one." you mumble.

"don't talk about this stuff around her, i can't risk her finding out." he pleads, embarrassed of the situation.

"yes, of course, sorry about that." you rub the back of your neck awkwardly before getting a drink too.

about 20 minutes later, and you're leaving target, still in the cart, packed tightly around the bags. you click the button on your key, the trunk popping out. the guys begin to pack away the bags in there, before vera takes you on one last run with the cart.

"wooooo!" you smile, feeling the cold wind hit you at your fast past. you're going so quick that you can only just make out the figures of the guys, finn with his camera out, taking a few pictures of the two of you.

after the shenanigans were over, you were driving the car back to the apartment you, vera and finn shared. you remember when vera begged you two to let milo move in as if there was room.

the apartment was bigger than an average one, but for four people, it would suck and be cramped with eachothers things.

and it wasn't like you couldn't afford a real place, because you could. your youtube channel was absolutely blowing up. you were about halfway to three million subscribers, around the same amount as your social media arch nemesis, sam and colby.

your channel and theirs have always been really close, them having no more then 10k subscribers then you at a time. it's been noticed by many fans, and earlier this year it became a competition. both yours and their fanbases have almost gone against eachother, starting a rivalry.

it was such a serious thing to their fans that they would leave hate comments on most of your videos. you tried not to let it get to you, and you made sure to only take them as jokes.

you honestly felt a bit betrayed by sam and colby as a creator. you thought they would've spoken up about the real threats, but they chose to leave it unnoticed, leave their fans spewing hate.

infact one time they even made a passive aggressive dig towards you in their haunted series a few months ago. colby said something along the lines of how they would always be better and he made a joke about sexism, that womens youtube content could never be as good as a mans. he clearly said it was a joke, but who jokes about that stuff?

and that's when you really declared war. if they wanted to be assholes, they would get treated as such. you ended up blocking him on instagram so you’d stop getting tagged in stuff with him.

you sighed, walking through the door behind everyone else, going to your room to pack a few clothing items. you turned the camera back on, setting it on the side table. "hey guys, just an update, we are now each packing our bags, and hopefully we will leave within the hour! hmm i think i'm gonna post the picture finn took in the parking lot for you guys."

you go onto your phone and post a picture on instagram. this was something you would do often to interact with fans.

you would post a picture while filming, and reply to a few comments on the video.

@y/nslittleworld

Liked by verakeys, finnsphotography, tarayummy and 310k others. y/nslittleworld: this is how we're getting to colorado, by cart view all 4,381 comments.. verakeys: when i was pushing you inside the store i was so scared of an employee 😭 finnsphotography: pretty tarayummy: you guys r so hot!! brennen: pls answer my dms | y/nslittleworld: brennen for the last time i won’t be your girlfriend

y/nsbiggestfan12: she posted!!, new lock screen check! | y/nslittleworld: you’re adorable <3 i love my fans

team_y/n776: team y/n! she's so pretty!! | team_colby_brock: no she's not 💀she looks basic view 109 comments..

you giggled at your comment to brennen. it's a running joke on both of your channels that brennen has a major crush on you.

"oh god." you put a hand to your mouth, looking at all the replies arguing about which youtube channel is better. you hated how seriously all of this has become, you never wanted this many people hating on you on the internet but it seems like it was practically inevitable.

hearing a light knock on your door, you spotted milo looking at you. "hey just to let you know we're ready and waiting."

"alright, i'm coming."

the roadtrip was long, uncomfortable and almost unbearable. you were only two hours in and you were tired. since you planned this, everyone demanded you drive, atleast until you get too tired. finn offered to take turns with you. "hey vera, can you pass me that five hour energy shot?"

she chuckled, passing it to the front.

the car you had was very large, it was like a family van. you bought it, knowing you'd need space for camera equipment, and people since you were a youtuber. the seats were down in the back, creating a bed like base. was it a little unsafe? possibly, but you were a very good driver so you were confident it'd be fine.

finn opened the bottle for you, and you took it, chugging the container in a few seconds. before making a screeching sound. "yuck."

as he put his hand up to move his hair out of his face, milo started talking. "so like, what's so scary about this place?"

"oh i have tons of stories." you chuckle, gesturing for finn to grab the camera and place it on the dashboard. "hey guys! we're about two hours into the drive, and i think it's a good time to share why the stanley is so haunted." you smile.

"me and y/n did a lot of research and took some notes." finn shows the paper he's holding. "because she's driving i'm going to do most of the explanation this time."

he places the paper infront of him. "okay so first." he looks back to his brother. "ya'know the shining? like the movie."

"uhh yeah i think so." he shrugs. "why?"

"well the shining was created by stephen king, and it's based on a dream he had while staying here." "he had crazy dreams and feelings from the hotel. there's many different spirits that reside there."

"yeah like room 217, the most haunted room in the hotel. it's haunted by a spirit named elizabeth wilson, she was the hotels head housekeeper and didn't die in the room, but got injured during a storm in 1911, and now she chooses that room to stay in." you pip in, while turning.

"there's the vortex, which as you all know." finn looks to the camera. "is those mirrors facing eachother, creating a kind of portal, or 'rapid transit system' he repeats from his notes.

"also the concert hall." he continues. "if you watched our video from last year, you'll know we did a throughout investigation in the concert hall, where a young spirit called lucy lives. she basically froze to death outside after getting kicked out by janitors in super cold weather."

"i really recommend you guys go check out our first video about the stanley, because we give tons more information about the hauntings." vera says to the camera.

"i'm thirsty." milo groans.

the group laughs at him, you grabbing the camera and turning it off. finn throws a waterbottle into the back, not looking. it ends up hitting milos face, earning a scoff. "watch where you're throwing things."

finn just rolls his eyes, trying not to laugh. "sorry brother."

you chuckle at the sibling behaviour, before sighing looking out ahead at the road. "this is so tedious." you yawn.

finn laughed, before asking if you were okay to drive. "yeah, i'm okay. you guys should try and get some sleep! i'll pull over and wake finn up when i need to switch. but for now, really get some z's."

"you don't have to tell me twice!" vera announces, sinking into her blanket.

"i won't purposely try and fall asleep but if i do, wake me up the second you need to okay?" finn said, earning a nodd from you.

as the sun set fully, the dark began to set in. it was honestly pretty nice. there were no cars on the road, and occasionally anytime they went through a town there would be plenty of lights. it felt calm, rather than scary.

you felt like you were preparing yourself for the stanley. you had been once before, about a year and a half ago with just vera and finn, and your experience was crazy. so many noises, feelings, stuff moving around.

you loved the paranormal so even though places were crazy, it was fun. you were nervous about milo coming, knowing he didn't believe in ghosts, and from previous experiences in videos. you were scared about him disrespecting whatever was in the hotel.

you just hoped he'd be respectful, because this kind of stuff hit you hard. you've had tons of paranormal experiences ever since you were a kid.

you yawned, keeping your eyes on the road.

suddenly the car was lit up, you glanced down to your phone that was sitting in the cup holder. you had an instagram notification from tara, one of your youtuber mutuals.

you wouldn't exactly consider her a close friend, but you've gone to tons of partys with her. because of tara, you had met jake who was friends with sam and colby.

you actually really liked tara and jake, they were cool and really nice. you slowed the car down, pulling onto the side of the road to look at the notification.

she had messaged you a longish message.

tarayummy: hey girl, just wanted to ask if you knew that jake and the guys are going to the stanley tomorrow? i saw your tweet about going and wanted to warn you

y/nslittleworld: oh shit what? did they say that publicly? i had no idea they'd be there

you began to panic, you were clueless about the guys coming to the stanley hotel. what if they think you copied them?

tarayummy: no they haven't told their fans yet, jake saw your tweet and told them about you being there, so i thought it was fair i did the same

y/nslittleworld: thanks for the heads up! i'm about to start driving so i'll talk to you later :)

tarayummy: okok, have a good trip

about 4 hours later, you had to quit. your eyes watering from how bad you needed to sleep. you gave finn a nudge, and pulled over.

thankfully he was happy to help, and told you to rest while he drove. you were out like a light in seconds.

you woke up much later than you thought, it being around 7 in the morning. you stretched out, eyes opening to the bright sunlight hitting the car. yawning, you turned to finn, who was slumped into an uncomfortable position, driving the car.

"hey." you smiled, rubbing your eyes. "need me to take over? i didn't mean to sleep that long." you chuckle.

"no it's okay, i've got this." he said back, taking a sip of his monster.

"okay well, don't be too stubborn, let me know when you need to switch again."

he nodded.

"where are we?" vera asks, her voice raspy from waking up. with her arms over her head, she stretched, and cracked her back.

finn yawns. "close to colorado, we're in utah right now. about an hour till we're in colo, but 6 i think until we get to our hotel."

she groans. "we're so far away." "guys i have an announcement." you say, frowning. "sam and colby.. they're filming at the stanley today too."

"sam and colby?!" vera peeks up. "okay, okay i know this is bad for you but oh my god we're going to meet sam and colby." you and finn looked to her with confused faces.

"since when were you 9 years old." you say, rolling your eyes at her fangirling. this was your borderline competition, she can't be excited about the enemy.

"for real." finn adds, continuing to drive.

hours later, you four realized you were an hour behind schedule so you just decided to check into the stanley hotel early. you had room 217 and 401 reserved, luckily.

you wondered where sam and colby were staying.

you carried two bags into the main room you wanted to stay in, which was 217. "guys, hurry up." you rushed them, waiting for them to follow you.

finn nodded, grabbing his and veras bags, her and milo following close behind. "i'm excited." finn states.

"me too actually, last time it was crazy! i'm excited to see what happens." vera smiles to him.

"this camera equipment is so heavy." slowly one of the bags starts to fall from your grip.

"i got it." milo rushes to your side, grabbing the bag. he smirks, now hip to hip with you. you smiled back awkwardly.

you weren't the biggest fan of milo for multiple reasons. the way he treated vera, and what he does behind her back. like smirk, wink and touch your shoulder unwantedly. it made you uncomfortable everytime but you brushed it off as just his cocky flirty personality.

"this is our door!" you call out, setting the bag down temporarily to unlock the door with the key. milo pushes open the door, holding it open for you.

everyone shuffles in and puts their bags down onto the floor. "okay." you sigh, relieved.

"now what do we do?" vera asked, looking around before jumping on the bed. "woo!"

"i'm thinking change, and we go check out the bar, maybe get something to drink and eat?" you offer up earning nods from the group.

"yes please." finn moans at the thought of food.

as you four make your way downstairs, you start to hear loud male voices. you pause, holding your arm out so nobody comes down. you listen, hearing jakes voice.

"sam, colby, jake and corey are at the front desk." you whisper.

"be non chalant." milo shrugs, walking infront. you all follow him down the stairs, like he was a bodyguard.

you adjust your tank top, pulling it up, and uncreasing your baggy jeans.

immediately you see the four guys, standing and talking to the camera. jake notices you first, eyes widening before waving. his wave got the attention of the rest of the group and they turned to see you four walking to the bar.

the four guys were looking at your group.

you accidentally lock eyes with colby, before his trail down, clearly checking out you. eventually you're walking out of sight and his eyes follow you. "i can't believe she's here on the same day we are." he mumbles.

sam took a step away from the group, glancing towards the bar. there you were, giggling with your friends, sipping a drink. even though your fanbases rivaled, he was a huge fan of your channel, and loved your content.

"i know, it's crazy. what are the odds?" he chuckles, sending a polite smile your way when you notice him staring. 'odd' you think to yourself.

"what if we did a video with them." he suggested.

"dude that would be sick if we teamed up." jake agreed with the other.

colby stared at them with wide eyes, wondering what the fuck they were thinking. "guys, no fucking way." he said. "sam what has gotten into you. don't you remember that she hates us? and vice versa."

"she's not even that bad, all she did was block you on instagram." he shrugged.

"what did you do brother." corey shakes his head in disappointment.

"all i did was make a dumb joke last year, and she blocked me." colby shrugged, frustrated.

"that's such a half truth." jake called him out. "you literally made a sexist joke towards her and didn't apologize, and your fans sent her death threats and you didn't do anything about it."

sam and colby looked to eachother, not even knowing about the hate messages you were receiving because of them. "shit really?"

"there's no way you didn't know. her instagram dms, comments, youtube comments are full with hate from toxic fans." jake pushed.

"i really didn't know." sam said, putting his hands up, grimancing. "i should go over there and apologize." he began to walk towards the bar before colby grabbed and pulled him back by his arm.

"dude no, that's so embarrassing." he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "besides, she's being dramatic over a dumb, obvious joke i made." colby tried to explain what he thought was right. "i didn't do a single thing to upset her, it was a joke." he defended.

"what is up with you." sam shakes his head, not recognizing his best friend. he sounded like an asshole, and he couldn't figure out why.

while in reality, colby was just embarrassed for making such an ignorant joke... an ignorant joke to someone he actually looked up to. both sam and colby had been privately watching your videos, honestly getting inspired to make their own content.

"yo, are you guys good to check in? i might go say hi to y/n." jake said, ignoring colby's eyes.

"actually can i come too? i'd like to meet her, and apologize." sam asked.

"i feel left out, i want to meet her too." corey said.

"okay, we're going to y/n, you can come if you want i guess." jake says towards colby, before they began to walk away.

"yo, y/n!" jake called out, walking in your direction. you turned, just expecting jake, shocked to see corey and sam following behind him.

"hey jake!" you smiled, hopping off the barstool to hug him. "i've missed you, it's been awhile." you sayy, sitting back down, before hesitantly looking to the other guys.

finn looked up from his phone, seeing them surround your area. he made sure to keep an eye out for you while vera and milo were drinking a few chairs down.

"it really has." he sat down on the chair next to you. "this is uh sam and corey." he gestures towards them.

"oh hi, what's up." you sit their awkwardly, doing the so called white person face out of awkwardness.

"hey, i'm corey." he holds out his hand, you give it a little shake.

"good to meet you." you smile, sensing his chill personality. you are then met with sam, him standing there awkwardly, trying to figure out a way to apologize to you.

you being socially awkward and hating the silence, speak first. "it's uh cool to finally meet you." you nod, avoiding eye contact with him, not sure on how he's feeling about the situation.

"it's awesome to meet you too, i'm a fan of your content." he smiles, making you surprised and flustered, not expecting that.

"wow really?" you giggle. "i could say the same thing about your channel." you take notice of one boy missing and glance around. he notices your wandering eyes.

"colby's uh.." sam trailed off, looking to the check in desk, before realizing he wasn't there. he felt a hand on his shoulder and jumped back, before realizing said boy was right behind him. "right here i guess." he says, rubbing the back of his neck.

"we were just looking for you brother." corey says, grabbing his shoulder.

"i uh put the bags in the room, it's a pretty nice room actually." he says to his group, trying to not even look in the direction of you. you notice the behavior and spin the stool around, to talk to finn about exploring.

you hear the guys murmur, not exactly sure what they're saying until you hear a groan and a sigh.

"yeah i'm thinking we take a look around at the hotel right now while it's light out, and visit our other room." finn said, taking out a map of the hotel, since it's been awhile.

"i agree, sounds like a great idea." you nod.

"hey y/n." a voice says from behind you. you turn to see sam again. "would you be down to do a collab or something for atleast a part of both yours and our series?"

hesitantly, you pause, looking towards finn. "what do you think?" you give him a confused face, so he's aware you're not sure of the idea.

he also makes a face.

sam clears his throat. "it's totally okay if not, no pressure." he smiles.

you nod slowly. "i guess we could." you shrug, sipping more of your drink. "what do you have in mind?" out of the corner of your eye you see vera and milo make their way towards you, the latter glaring at the guys infront of you.

"what's going on here?" he asks, leaning on the bar.

"oh hey. this is sam." you introduce him, them shaking hands, milo's cleary very stiff. "he want's to do a collab with my channel."

he raises an eyebrow. "anyways, we're doing a seance later, so i thought maybe if you and your friends wanted to join it?”

you sigh. “i dont know, seances are very powerful and not to be disrespected. i would only agree if you guys were doing it properly, no jokes, no mocking.” you said seriously.

“i mean we can try our best, but when we’re scared we tend to joke a bit, im sure we could take it more seriously.”

“i.. i don’t know.”

“here well i’ll give you my number just incase you change your mind.” he smiles towards you. you nod your head, handing him your phone.

he gives it back and you slide it into your pocket. “hopefully i’ll see you later.” he looks proud of himself as he walks away to the guys. jake waves to you, before they’re out of eyesight, probably going to explore.

you blush slightly at his kindness. before finn nudges you with his elbow and raises his eyebrow.

“what was that about? why are you blushing.” he interrogates you, making you blush more.

“he’s cute.” you shrug, trying to lessen your large smile. “and he just exchanged numbers with me.”

everyone decides to finish their drinks before they go anywhere. you were pretty surprised and happy about the events of a few moments ago.

you had been trying to squash whatever was previously between you, sam and colby, so this was a good start. you were pretty flustered when vera and milo started asking about the blush on your cheeks.

sam on the other hand, when his friends, mainly jake questioned him about you, he was holding himself together, not showing any weakness. “what are you guys talking about.” he shakes his head at the claims of him liking you.

“that was so flirty of you brother.” corey points out, smirking at him.

“are you guys gonna bone.” jake jokes, making a weird voice.

“ew, dont say that.” “thats weird.” sam says, shaking his head once more.

“she is pretty hot.” colby comments, looking at her as he walks away.

“colbyyy.” corey calls out at him. “don’t be a weirdo, bro.”

sam huffed at his friends childish behaviour, but to be fair if the roles were switched he would probably tease them about it too.

if he was being honest, you were really cute, and he loved your personality. every video you’ve made, he’s watched and not just watched, enjoyed.

he’s wasn’t following you on any socials, but he always checked up on them every week or so. he was well aware of your fanbases rivalling, and he was obviously there when colby made the comment about you and he remembers in a video of yours when you said that you disliked the duo.

after hearing that and seeing you block colby, he assumed you wouldn’t want him following you either.

but after what jake said, he realized how shitty him and colby had been. he couldnt believe all the hate you were getting on twitter. when jake showed him, his mouth was wide open, shocked at how horrible their fans were being to you.

the worst hate comment he had gotten from this whole situation was a few of your fans saying you were better then him. and he was used to comments like that from the traphouses prank war.

he felt horrible, and wanted to apologize, but he felt weird doing it with everyone around him which is why he wanted to see you again, so he could say sorry in a private setting.

and he did have to admit, that he just wanted to talk and see you again too. he definitely had a crush on you, and has had one for atleast a year now.

your style, your personality it was just above and beyond what he was attracted to. one problem.. he could tell colby thought the same as him.

the boy would never admit this, but sam remembered one time a few months ago where he came over, and saw you on colby’s tv screen. he had been binging your channel on a thursday night.

it was clear he liked your videos, and content because a week after you uploaded a video, he copied the point of it and did his own verison.

sam encouraged him to apologize or talk to you but he was being too arrogant and full of himself. he didnt want to seem like he was in the wrong, even if he was. (which he knew he was)

“so you invited her to the seance?” colby asked, as they walked around outside.

“yeah, she said she’ll think about it.” sam replied.

“i hope she does, she seems cool, id like to get to know her.” corey said, genuinely liking your clothing style and hair. he thought it made you unique, and in the best way possible.

“her group is also going to explore soon so we might see them around.” sam added.

“great.” colby rolled his eyes.

“brother, if you just apologize, it’ll be fine. y/n is so forgiving. trust me, before i knew her i spilt my drink all over her outfit at a party. she was so cool about it.” jake said, trying to explain how chill you were.

“it’s not that easy.” he scoffed, frustrated at this dumb feud he caused between the two of you. but to be fair, he still thought you were too dramatic about it.

“whatever colby.” sam shrugged, before pulling out his camera and updating the viewers about the concert hall they were going to explore.

you, and the three others finished what you were doing at the bar, and headed back to your room to unpack a few items, mainly stuff to film with and use.

you had the spirit box in hand. you were really excited to use the estes method, because you hadn’t tried it before, and finding out it was invented here at the stanley was crazy.

finn grabbed the emf reader and walked with it around the room. it blinked to the first level before staying grey. “mm nothings showing up, we’ll definitely retry it later.” he says to the camera.

"the emf is one of my favourite devices, it'll either be neutral or just going off like fucking crazy." vera says, scrolling on her phone. "oh also y/n, you're trending on twitter." she says carelessly.

"what?!" you exclaim rushing over. trending on twitter was almost always a bad thing so you panicked as you pulled the phone from her.

you read the headline. "famous youtuber, y/n photographed in etes park, colorado by fan." "huh." you scroll under #y/n, and see a picture of yourself at a gas station you stopped at on the way.

"that's not creepy at all." finn murmurs.

"yeah like what the hell, the fan didn't even come say hi or ask for an actual picture." vera says, with a slightly disgusted face.

"maybe they were just nervous." you shrug. "thank god i'm not cancelled or something." you chuckle, anxiously.

"what would you even be cancelled for? being too nice?" milo gave a rhetorical question, making vera laugh.

"no really though, what would i get cancelled for." you thought aloud.

"definitely murdering someone." finn replied, before snickering. "you scare me when you're angry."

"heyy, i'm not that bad." you said, rolling your eyes.

"you threw a book at me when i didn't do the dishes!"

"it was your turn! you are supposed to do the dishes once a week! once! i do it five times a week! they were there for 2 fucking days!" you shout, jokingly frustrated.

"i forgot!" he defends, chuckling to the camera. "this is what i go through on a daily guys." he says for sympathy points to the viewers.

"should we start exploring?" you ask.

"hell yeah." vera grins, putting on a sweater.

"okay guys." finn hands the camera to you. "we are now going to the other room we reserved, room 401 and hopefully we'll hear children laughing."

it had been about thirty minutes, you holding the emf reader, slowly walking around the room and asking questions. vera was looking out the window, spotting the guys from earlier, milo was watching you with the emf, curious on how it worked, and finn was editing a video you had filmed a few days ago.

nothing had been happening, so everyone was just relaxing.

but suddenly, the emf reader went to orange, you dropped it out of fright, everyone looking at the device going off. "holy shit." you mutter.

"is there someone in this room with us?" finn asks, looking up from the laptop.

the emf went green, before boosting up to orange again.

milo's eyes widened. "woah."

"are you a child?" the question made the device turn off.

"are you a maid? or one of the-" it shot back to orange.

"this has never happened before." you say to the camera. "this has been the only time that the emf and the questions have been spot on."

it was about 30 minutes later, and you were leaving the room by yourself. everyone was a bit tired as well as bored, and decided to chill out. it was about 8 now, and you checked your phone as you were walking around the hotel.

you realized sam had messaged you a few minutes ago.

sam from the bar: "hey! just checking in. if you're free, us four are about to go into the concert hall if you and your friends want to join."

sam had been waiting for a reply, looking at his phone every few seconds, before sighing and putting it down. just as he was walking into the doors with colby, corey and jake, his phone vibrated. "guys wait!" he called out.

y/n: hey! i'm totally down :) the rest of the crew is napping in our second room rn so it would just be me, is that cool?

you didn't have to wait for a reply, him texting back immediately.

sam from the bar: yeah that's awesome, we'll wait for you outside the hall

you began your walk outside, quickly realizing you should've brought a sweater, the wind nipping at your exposed shoulders and neck. you saw them in the distance and waved.

sam took notice of you, and smiled at your gesture, before waving back. he saw you were still wearing the clothes from earlier, and realized how could you must be. in this moment he wished he would've worn a sweater he could give to you.

he saw a smirk on colbys face as you made your way over, and scoffed quietly.

"hey y/n!" you heard from sam. you quickly rushed over and you stood infront of him.

"hey sam!" you gave him a light side hug, before looking to the others. "so, are you guys ready to meet lucy?"

"no." corey fake cries.

as you begin to walk in, you trip up the stairs, colby snickering, before making a comment. "watch where you're walking princess." he rolls his eyes, stepping by you.

sam holds his hand out for you, helping you up before giving colby a face, as if to ask why he was still being a dick.

you tried to ignore him, and turned your flash on, looking around the concert hall. it was pitch black, and looked very creepy, everything neutral and dead looking colours.

colby and corey pointed out the mirror that had pictures taken in it, before a loud bang was heard. "what was that." jake turned to the area, before corey discovered a picture he took with a streak down the middle.

"that looks like a face almost." colby said.

"to me it just looks like something to do with the mirror, and the flash." you shrug, getting an annoyed face from the boy.

corey started taking more pictures, and a light turned off in the other room, getting colby's attention. everyone stood still, facing the room. "i have a horrible feeling about that room." he said.

in a few seconds everyone was running out of the building, from a picture that showed lucy peeking around a piece of furniture. sam looked at you before going back into that room with corey, trying to figure out what the shadow could have been.

you, colby and jake were sitting in the other room, jake distracted on his phone. you clearly caught colby checking you out, him watching you carefully.

"so where's your crew?" he asked, with a odd tone of voice.

"they are napping and relaxing in our room." you said, short and plain, avoiding eye contact with him.

"cool." he was mentally slapping himself. he had no idea how to start a conversation with someone, especially someone that he had offended. "are you dating that kid? the one with the dark brown hair?"

you raised an eyebrow. "that's not really your business, but no i'm not. he's my best friend. also his name's finn."

"he looks like a nerd." he points out, trying to joke, but only making you more uncomfortable. "that other guy though, looks like an asshole."

"he is. and that's milo." colby sees your face as you talk about him, making him curious. he watches as you shiver from the cold, and he sighs, taking off his sweater.

"you're so unprepared." he chucks his sweater in your direction, it hitting your eye. you wince, before scoffing.

"what the fuck." you mutter, rubbing it until the pain lessens.

"cmon princess, lighten up." he hums, finding amusement out of your annoyed face. he could tell you were getting more and more pissed off. "if you were smarter, maybe you would've worn a sweater."

"i'm not taking your dirty ass sweater." you throw it back at him, it practically slapping him.

he shrugs, seeing you shiver once more. "your loss."

as soon as corey and sam rush out of the back room, colby shuffles away from you, pretending to be on his phone.

"we need to leave." corey says, eyes watering. you all follow him outside, and look at the pictures he's been taking.

"jesus." you mutter.

sam stands right next to you, his arm touching yours. you visibly blush at the action, and take a small step away when colby starts watching you. "this is crazy." sam states, zooming into the picture.

"lucy is definitely calling you guys pussies." jake jokes, making you laugh.

corey refuses to go back in and eventually convinces the rest of the guys to go back to their hotel room. you agree, thanking them for inviting you.

as the others leave, sam stays behind a second. "you're really cool." he comments.

you gush at that, and giggle, trying to stop the red coming to your face. "thank you, you're cool too, i look forward to the seance, which i've decided to join."

sam grins. "awesome! we'll do it around 3am if thats okay with your guys."

"that's fine with them." you say, looking into his bright blue eyes. "you're a lot nicer than i thought."

"vice versa, you're so much more chill then i imagined."

"you imagined meeting me?" you say, jokingly pouting before laughing.

"i actually have, pretty big fan right here." he plays into the joke. it's silent for a few seconds, just the two of you looking at eachother.

sam tried to keep himself from looking at your body, finding it disrespectful since he just met you, but his eyes wandered slightly, the outfit you were wearing attracting him. the way it hugged your curves, it made him drool.

"you're really pretty." he huffs, slightly frustrated at how attractive you were.

you're absolutely stunned hearing that, your face clearly showing you were giddy. you knew both of you had been sharing little touches since you met, and been flirting very slightly but you didn't actually think anything would come from it.

"you are too, sam. you're pretty." you say back, making him smile.

"can i kiss your cheek?" he asks. your smile is unbearably large, it starting to hurt.

"yes, you may." right as you say that, he kisses your left cheek, his hand lightly hovering around your waist. his lips were on your face, so close to your own.

you were never one for kissing on a first date, so only just meeting this guy, talking to him a few times and letting him kiss your cheek was crazy.

you honestly wished he would've asked for a real kiss. you definitely would've said yes. his lips leave you, his breath hitting your neck. "i think-"

right as he began to talk, a loud shout came from a window on the top floor. "sam, hurry the fuck up!" colby yells, smirking. it was like he was watching for the correct moment, wanting to interrupt.

sam sighs, his head dipping. "i'm sorry, i have to go." he rubs the back of his neck anxiously.

"it's okay." you say, still smiley. "thank you for the kiss." you look back up at colby and you can see him still looking. you propped yourself up on your tippy toes and gave him a quick kiss, before walking into the hotel, him following slowly.

he didn't know why but he was obsessed with you, watching from the window. he couldn't take his eyes off of you. and when he saw you kissing his best friend, he felt irritated. (from his angle it looked like you were actually kissing sam)

he honestly felt like some kind of stalker. he sighed, from the window, shaking his head. you were making him crazy.

as you got back to your room, you saw your friends asleep. milo and vera were on either side of the bed, and finn was sleeping on a foot rest. you grimanced at that, and woke him up. "dude, that cannot be comfortable." you laugh quietly.

he groaned. "it's not. this sucks." he looks over to vera, sleeping peacefully.

"wanna go to the other room?" you ask, he nods.

both you and finn walk to the other room. you both moan once you lay on the bed. it was so uncomfortable after standing and walking around the entire time. "god this is the comfiest bed." you say, stretching your arms.

"i agree." "so how was the concert hall?"

you blush, remembering what happened. "sam kissed my cheek." you whisper, him getting up and looking at you.

"no way! really?" he smiles for you, happy that you're finally having a chance at a relationship.

"it was so.. ahhhh." you can't even finish talking, before you throw yourself into a pillow, screaming into it.

"also at 3am they want to do the seance." you said, letting him know. he nodded and continued to lay down.

you quickly both fell asleep, sleeping peacefully. however you slept a lot longer then you anticipated. when your first alarm went off, you were shocked.

you had set a 2am alarm, so you could be ready for 3.

you didn't think you were that tired to nap for a few hours. you threw the blanket off of you and quickly realized finn was sound asleep next to you. you rushed to turn off your alarm, and once you did you watched him snore for a few seconds.

glad that he was still asleep, you got up and dug through your duffle bag, looking for something else to wear. you quickly changed into black baggy jeans, and a white tee. you grabbed finns sweater and put it on as your teeth began to chatter.

you were annoyed at yourself for forgetting a sweater, something you wore almost everyday. bored of waiting for the time to pass, you decided to take a walk around the hotel again.

as you're walking down the stairs, you hear a few children laughing. you jolt to look behind you, seeing nothing there. maybe it was just your mind playing tricks on you.

continuing your stroll, you see the bar closed, a few benches scattered around second floor. about to go sit, you see colby walking in your direction. "hey princess. didn't expect to see you here." he has that smug smile still on his face.

you, not wanting to deal with his arrogance turn away from him, and go sit on the bench. he follows, sitting next to you. "what? am i disturbing your 'me time'."

"yes, actually you are." you snap at him. you hated when people purposely tried to push your buttons. "i'm not in the mood for whatever you're trying to do." you sigh.

"i'm not trying to do anything, i'm just talking." he shrugs, noticing your sweater. he remembers seeing finn wear that earlier at the bar. "are you sure you're not dating your friend." he pinchs at the hoodie.

you pull your arm back away from him. "i didn't bring a sweater and i'm freezing. i already told you we were just friends."

"so you're single?"

you pause, thinking. maybe if you said you were taken, he would leave you alone. "i didn't say that."

colby raised his eyebrow. "so you're telling me your in a relationship but kissing my best friend?"

closing your eyes, you scoff. "can you just leave me alone. i don't understand why you hate me, and like i said, i don't want to deal with your bullshit."

he stops, genuinely feeling a bit bad. "i don't hate you." he says lowly, looking around the lobby.

you turn to him. "sure." you scoff. "first you make an asshole comment towards me, basically bringing down everything i've worked for, making it seem like nothing, then you and sam let your fans attack me, now when i actually meet you, hoping to squash whatever this is, you're being an asshole to me." standing up to walk away, he pulls you back.

"i don't hate you." he reassures, holding a tight grasp onto your arm. he looks into your eyes, with such a sincere emotion on his face.

you shake your head. "then why are you such a dick?"

"because i'm an idiot. okay y/n? i'm a fucking idiot. your channel, you, are so inspiring, and i'm intimidated by you. the fact our subscribers are so close, and your fans are loyal to you, it intimidates me.

he grates his teeth together. "because i know that you're going to beat us, and that our fans are going to like you better. because you're such a genuinely cool person."

"i made a dumb joke, and didn't want to admit i was wrong..." he trails off. "so.." "so i'm sorry." he finally apologizes. your eyes are almost watering from how deep that apology was.

"and.. i think i like you." he adds, his hand moving from your arm, lower to your wrist.

your mind was running a thousand miles a second. not even a few minutes ago this guy was teasing you, and you hated him for it. now he was confessing that he was in the wrong, and likes you.

what were you going to do? there was sam, a kind, cute and gentle guy, taking his time to get to know you, and then there was colby. an edgy, incredibly attractive, deep but bold guy.

you were leaning towards sam, he has been kind to you since the beginning.

but quickly, you weren't left with a choice in the matter. colby put his hand on your back, and pulled you into him, his lips touching yours.

you were about to pull away, but something about the scenario made you stay. kissing him back, you couldn't help but be attracted to him. he was bold, and dominant. it was obvious from the way he was kissing you, completely overpowering your mouth.

eventually you get ahold of yourself, and push him back, hands staying on his chest. "colby.."

"shit i'm sorry y/n." he pulls away, turning his back to you. "fuck." he mutters. "i'm sorry, i don't know what came over me." suddenly the tension in the air pauses, as his phone rings. he reads the contact.

"sam." he mumbles, before answering.

you sit there, listening, feeling guilty. you had no commitment towards the other boy, but god did you feel bad, like you had cheated on a partner.

"hey colby, where are you?" his voice comes through the phone.

"i'm just in the lobby."

"why are you in the lobby?" he asks, confused.

"i was just taking a walk since i woke up early. i've been reading a magazine down here." he looks to you as he lies to sam.

"oh, okay. well it's about to be three, so i'm gonna message y/n and invite them over to do the seance." you panic, looking to colby before running upstairs, to hurry and get to your room. he frowned, watching you leave.

you got to your room, opening and closing the door quickly. finn sat awake on the bed. "where have you been?" he saw the panic in your eyes. "y/n are you okay?" he gets over to you and looks at your face.

"colby kissed me.. and i kissed him back." your breath got shallow, and it felt hard to breathe. your chest was going up and down frantically.

finn knew you had anxiety, and he had dealt with attacks like this before. he ushered you onto the bed, and held your hand. "hey y/n it's okay." he rubbed your back gently.

as you breathing got back to normal you gave finn a large hug. "what do i do."

"what you want." he answers. "you owe nothing to either of them so, plus why are you trying to make up your mind right now? you just met them, silly." he continues to rub your back.

"okay." you breath, before a knock at the door makes you jolt. you check your phone seeing two messages from sam.

sam from the bar: hey, we're going to set up the seance soon sam from the bar: i'm gonna come to your room if that's okay

finn decided to answer the door for you, only having it slightly open. he saw sam standing there awkwardly. "hey man." he greeted him. "we're just getting ready."

sam nods. "alright, i'll wait here for you guys."

finn shut the door, asking if you were okay, you nodded. he noticed his sweater was on you, before rolling his eyes. he got dressed, and called vera.

she said she would meet at sam's room in the next 15 minutes.

you said hi to sam as you opened the door, and he started to talk to you about what was going to happen during the seance. finn was right behind you, listening to his explanation.

you saw vera and milo standing outside their door, vera in her pajamas, while milo was wearing a tank top and cargo shorts.

they waved at you and finn, vera giving you a hug. "i'm so ready for this." she says, excitedly.

"i know right." finn adds, earning a smile from her. milo just shrugs, still tired.

you walk into their room, immediately seeing colby sitting on the bed looking at his phone. right as he sees you he puts it away and looks at you to see what you're thinking.

you take a deep breath and start chatting to corey and jake about how they were feeling towards the seance. you glanced towards colby, seeing him whisper to sam before he pulled him out of the room.

you tried to stay calm about it, hoping the situation was unrelated to you.

colby stood a few feet away from sam, taking a deep breath. "what's up?" he asked, seeing the other looking nervous.

"i have something to tell you.."

as they were chatting, you continued to talk about the seance, and you asked corey about the safety precautions they were taking. which were none other than being saged.

"i swear to god if a spirit follows me because you guys are being stupid." you shake your head at them.

everyone assembles on the floor, sitting in a circle. finn sits on one side of vera, while milo sits on the other. you grimace at finn, him shrugging, accepting it.

sam and colby re-enter the hotel room, both looking smug. you let out a sigh of relief, assuming since they were both in a good mood, that they didn't talk about what had happened.

sam takes a seat on your left, while colby, your right. you look to him, seeing a smirk across his lips. you couldn't help but stare, thinking he looked so attractive right then, a bead of sweat falling down his forehead.

sam had his normal gentle smile on his face. "alright, are you guys ready?" he asked, looking to everyone around the circle, before leaning to spill the salt in a circle between the group.

you did honor of lighting a few candles, flicking the lighter. corey began to get really freaked out hearing little noises, feeling things, and noticing the candies moving.

"i have a really bad feeling." he was being really defensive, about doing the seance, refusing because he was thinking about what the physic said.

because of that, he decided to sit out, leaning on the window seat. you all began to hold hands.

sam reached his hand out to you, you taking it. it was soft but he was definitely nervous, the light layer of sweat giving him away. you then gave your other hand to colby, he took it quickly.

his hand was freezing, and more calloused.

you flinched at a sudden noise coming from the closet. corey stood up in awe, shouting. "what was that." "in the closet!" he stood up pointing. "dude! can we stop?"

"i think whenever we hear things it means we should keep going." jake comments, shuffling closer.

"exactly, what's the point of the video if we stop the most important part?" you say, looking into your camera placed next to you.

"yeah we're literally saying lets do this, then-." sam is quickly cut off by corey.

"i hate this crap." he goes to sit on the bed, and watches. sams hand rejoins yours, and everyone closes their eyes for a few seconds, preparing themselves.

sam says a few things, talking to the spirits, telling them they can't harm any of us, while noises in the room pick up. weird knocks from the closet and bangs on the roof.

he encouraged corey to open the door, before he sat back down again.

colby sighed, trying to get him to join the seance, his hand up to gesture with.

he placed it back down, but on your upper thigh, before giving it a squeeze. you lightly gasped at that, everyone too busy to notice. you shot him a glare, only making grip harder.

shaking your head, you noticed corey sitting next to him now. you took the hint to grab the boys hands again.

sam kept speaking, leading the seance, asking about their experiences so far in the night, and acknowledging their room was haunted by a cowboy.

colby spoke up. "you moved the lolipops, we heard you earlier while we were relaxing, it's not time to play games anymore, use our energy, show us you're here."

a candle's light blinked, spooking the boys, followed by more noises coming from the closet. you shivered, sensing something around you.

corey got scared, standing up, followed by colby. "i'm out." he said, hands up.

you gave him a look. "literally why." you rolled your eyes, earning an annoyed face from him.

jake agreed with you, wondering why they would quit after hearing what they wanted.

sam sat his hand on your lower thigh before moving it to your back, reassuring you in this situation. he knew you weren't scared, you were fearless, but he felt he should comfort you regardless.

eventually everyone sat back down again, vera this time quitting, going on her phone in the corner. finn following short after, taking this as a chance to talk to her one on one since they got here.

you close your eyes as noises began to happen again, and right as it's getting good, you get pulled back by sam, grabbing your arm. everyone but jake is rushing to the corners of the room, away from the closet.

corey rushed out of the room, leaving everyone behind. you ripped away from sams grasp, not wanting to follow. he sighed, before telling you he'd be back.

you walked to finn and vera, milo behind you. "this is crazy." he comments, looking out the window to see the guys filming.

"i understand being scared but genuinely what's the point of committing to a seance then disrespecting the spirits willing to talk?" you say, sighing, leaning on vera.

"i'm tired." you yawn, realizing the lack of sleep you've been getting. "to be honest i might go back to our main room."

vera, for once during the trip agrees with you, asking if she can come along. you notice how she avoids milo, even as he's asking her to come to the other room.

finn notices as well. he waits back a few minutes as both of you leave, wanting to talk to his brother.

you glance at vera. she looked upset. "you okay vee?" when she looks up at you, it's obvious she had been crying. "oh my god, are you okay." you grab her face gently.

"no." she begins to sob, pulling you in for a hug. "i'm so stupid y/n.. so stupid to think he would want me for something other than sex."

you comfort her on your way to the room, asking her what happened. "he's been talking to a girl he met in the lobby all day." she pouts. "he told me that he might go have sex with her.. not even 10 minutes ago." you hug her tightly.

"vera, it's okay. he's just a douchebag to not realize what was right infront of him."

"nobody is gonna love me the way i want to be loved." she pours out. you think for a minute, finn..

"vera.. i believe in soulmates okay? and i know you have one for a fact. don't get too upset over milo. we tried to warn you about his behavior, i'm sorry."

"it's okay. i was too blinded by his handsome face." she sighs, wiping her eyes. you feel a vibration in your pocket, pulling out your phone.

you see both a message from colby, and sam. you put it away, focusing on vera. "you'll get over him girl, look at you! you're so gorgeous, and funny, there's someone that will treat you like a princess."

you hear a knock at the door. "hey, it's uh finn." you look to vera, and she nods.

opening the door, you see finn with a already turning black eye. his left eye looked like something out of an action movie. "holy shit!" you shout, before covering your mouth, aware of the noise complaint you've already gotten.

"holy fuck." you whisper. "what happened?"

he shakes his head. "did something i should've done awhile ago. i punched milo." he says proudly, vera poking her head up. she rushes to him, wiping the slight blood away from his face. "andd.. he punched me back."

"jesus." vera exhales. "now why'd you have to go and do that?" finn looks to you, and gestures to your phone. you check the notifications from sam and colby, asking where you had gone.

"ohh." you said, getting the hint to leave. you smirk at him, pulling out a finger gun or two before leaving.

right as you step into the hall, there are the boys. sam notices you immediately, asking what happened. "just a little tussle between brothers over a girl, nothing much." you say. "how's corey? still being a puss?" colby snickers.

"yeah, but we atleast got him back into the room, so he's chilling out now."

you three stand in awkward silence, taking notice of how they look at you. you clear your throat before speaking. "i'm really tired." a yawn slips its way out of your mouth.

"us too. corey's already sleeping, snoring like a madman." sam says, making you giggle.

"it's so loud." colby rolls his eyes.

"i get that, finn snores sometimes. i can usually hear it from the other room in our apartment, boy does it piss me off." you relate to them, before they walk you to your room.

you open the door, looking in to see if milo was around. your eyes widen, seeing his luggage gone. "milo must've called a cab." you say, turning to them.

they both look at you with smug looks, like they had been for most of the night. "if you guys want, you can sleep in here to avoid the snoring." you offer. "but i'm going to fucking bed."

you walk into the bathroom, changing into some pajamas. by pajamas, you mean almost no clothing at all because you get too dang hot.

as you're freshening up you hear a few whispers. "we don't even know if she'd be into that." sam said lowly.

you yawn loudly, coming out of the bathroom.

the way their eyes watched your body.. it drove you crazy. you quickly took notice of their lack of clothes, while in your bed. very bold of them to think you'd let them sleep with you. it was a queen bed but is that really enough for three strangers.

"you guys are surely making yourselves comfortable." you point out, seeing the only space for you was in the middle of them.

sam rubs the back of his neck, apologizing anxiously. "sorry, we can sleep on the couch or something." colby rolls his eyes at his friends behaviour.

"it's okay, as long as you too don't make me sweaty i'll be fine." they look to eachother at that.

jumping into the bed, you get under the covers between them. because you were nervous about the situation, you laid stomach down, face into your pillow.

you would never get tired of this amazing bed, god was it comfortable. and having two attractive, shirtless guys on either side of you made it even better.

you felt the bed dip as they came closer, colby touching you first, his finger trailing along your side. "i like this outfit." he mumbles close to your ear, making you melt.

the feeling of his hand caressing you was something out of a movie or book. it started from your arm, down to your waistline, his finger rubbing light circles between your waist and shorts.

"it's pretty." sam comments. you giggled, clearly seeing how different both of them are. to you, it seemed like colby was teasing you and trying to turn you on, while sam was making you feel like the most important girl in the world. and woah the combination of it made you flustered.

"thanks." you say into the pillow, making colby chuckle. his hand slowly going to your ass, you breathed shakily as it happened, but let him.

and in seconds, he was taking a handful and squishing it, massaging it, whatever you want to call it. he was obsessed with your ass. you propped yourself up slightly, turning onto your back just to frustrate him.

you watched his eyes flicker as he couldn't touch that part of you anymore. your lips were slightly stuck out, pouty almost at the heat you were feeling. "fuck y/n, you're so hot." he blurted out, not regretting it.

you looked to sam, trying to tell his reaction with how dark it was. you couldn't decipher what was happening, and if both of them were coming onto you. it seemed like they both talked about it before hand, and now just needed your permission.

you locked eyes with colby, his hand coming to your neck, and lighting hovering over it.

gulping, you lean back a bit, hesitant. he notices, and goes back to touching your side. "he's right. y/n you're the most gorgeous girl on this planet."

colby didn't like sharing your attention, pulling your face to look at him gently. his eyes flickered to your lips, and you nodded.

his hand slid behind your head, holding you in place as his tongue explored your lips. you kissed back, feeling how passionate he was. his body moving in a rhythm. as he pulled away slowly, he looked at you hungrily.

sam took this as an opportunity. "can i kiss your neck, y/n?" he asked, you nodding frantically. the way you felt right now, it was almost unbearable.

he started kissing your neck area, sucking and biting at your skin. you hoped he didn't leave any marks.. but secretly you craved it, thinking about the way you would show off their lovebites.

you felt colby's mouth on you now too, licking down your stomach till your shorts. he lightly tugged at them, making you move to where he could pull them straight off.

he lightly trailed his hand around your thigh, getting closer and closer to where you wanted him. he moved, getting inbetween your legs, and licking up your thigh.

you let out a raspy moan at the combination of sam's mouth on your neck, and colby's tongue getting closer. once he heard you moan, he came back up to kiss you again.

"you sound pretty needy, princess." he comments, both of them taking back their touches, making you open your eyes.

you look to both of them, colby clearly confident in his teasing. "fuck i want to kill you." you groan, shaking your head as he chuckles.

[zialltops]

honeysuckle’s & huckleberry’s

Cowboy!Joel (41) X F!Reader (25) | 42.1k words | wip | explicit | 18+ minors dni | enemies to lovers | slow burn | au: no cordyceps outbreak | oral (f receiving) | (semi) public sex | vaginal fingering

masterlist | ao3 | spotify playlist

“In just—“ His eyes slip closed when his mouth connect with the inside of your wrist. His lips are warm and so tender you fight down a soft whimper at the intoxicating sensation. When they open again, dangerous amber irises peer back at you like you’re their salvation. “-my cowboy hat.”

Oh—fuck.

a/n: this chapter was so fun to write, I accidentally made it 9.5k words lol, but it was such a relief (ish) to write. Some new warning apply to this chapter, so please be advised of those. We get to see a whole new side to Joel this chapter and we’ll get to see some “in the making of” this chapter in the following one. A little bit of context on why Joel changes so abruptly and the reasoning behind his decisions. I hope you all know how much i love love love you guys for being here for me while i struggle to find time to write. I’m working on getting back on my feet every day and this is the one safe place I have to escape and indulge in my favorite coping mechanism. Much love, H 🤍

Chapter 7–You Don’t Want That Smoke

Your birthday falls on Friday this year, (lucky you) but it also means the First Friday dance falls on your birthday this year as well. It’s the first community event after the cold winter months and by that time, most people are itching to get out of their snow-buried homes. The town usually puts on the event to celebrate the coming spring, hosting venders of all sorts and games for the families. Growing up, your parents would take you to the petting zoo and let you ride the ponies, like you didn’t have a horse at home, like there wasn’t a whole ranch to attend to, animals to raise up and sell, like you could just for a moment, be a normal little girl from a quiet street who’d never sat in a saddle in her life.

If only that had been the case, ever. If only you’d had parents who pursued safe, reliable careers, where they had pensions and retirement, insurance and benefits, instead of breaking their backs for a ranch that had been dying long before it was left to your mother by her parents. Was it obligation that kept them here, or was it something else? Was it the same thing that got you through years of college, all in an attempt to keep your parents' dream alive for a little while longer?

It’s Wednesday, which means you have two more days before your birthday and Melly’s plane lands in a few hours from Colorado, but so far your morning has taken you five rounds in the octagon and is currently coming back for more.

“—No! The statements I just got in the mail yesterday said we have ninety days to come up with three months worth of the mortgage before the property faces foreclosure.”

The woman on the other end of the phone sighs at you and you can hear the way her hands hit her keyboard. “I know that, ma’am, but that was a month and a half ago and we still have not received any payments. The bank sent another letter, requesting that the entire six month worth of back payments be received by the end of the ninety days or the property will be foreclosed on.”

The routinely scripted response feels like an open handed slap to the face, white hot pain snapping through your veins like lightning on the Wyoming plains. You sink down into the dining room chair and let it soak in all the way.

“How many days do we have left?” You hear yourself whisper into the phone but it’s not you speaking, not really—its a absent reflex like blinking or breathing.

“That's…51 days, ma’am. We’ll contact you again in thirty days if we have not received the entire amount by that time.”

Your eyes burn and blur, tears for the years of your life wasted on a useless education, until they surge past the dam and plummet to the paper below. When you look down at the document, your tears are stained red by the ink on the foreclosure notice. “How much will it be, again?” Defeated, Inadequate and Doomed.

“Fourteen thousand, three hundred and forty dollars, for six months worth of the Mortgage and late fees accumulated.” She sounds annoyed when she reads off the obscene number, like she isn’t sealing the fate of your family home, the dream your parents have worked their whole lives for to pass down to you—all wasted on a backed mortgage that your parents took out on the farm when you were born.

The full circle indicates that losing your family’s livelihood was your fault, from start to finish. You didn’t make it in time. All your hard work, and you’re still going to lose it.

“Is that everything, ma’am?”

Click

You drop the phone and sob into your arms, your whole body shaking and heaving with every sharp inhale. In your best attempt to keep quiet, you attract the attention of the one person you long to keep this from, your sweet, well meaning mom.

She’s soft spoken when she soothes you, rubs your back while you dry up your tears against her chest and she doesn’t ask why, just kisses your forehead and smiles one of those sweet sweet smiles at you and says, “We’ll get through this, Honey, don’t you worry about that. We’ll figure this out together.”

And you believe her, enough to reel in your hiccups, enough to ease your searing tears. “Why don’t you take a break from work, Melly gets here soon, yeah? You got everything you girls need?”

You smile at her, thankful for her ability to distract you from the things that keep you up at night. She knows you better than anyone, she’s your best friend. “Maybe we can stop at the store after we get her, but we gotta leave soon—“ you check the time, one hour until her plane touches down in Jackson and it takes forty five minutes to get there alone.

“Actually Honey, about that…I can't go with you. I’m not feeling up to it and I thought I would whip up dinner for you girls. But I got someone to go with you,”

You stand up from the chair and put the papers back into the envelope. “Mom, I really can go alone, I drove all the way here—“ she stops you with a quiet scuff. “You got stuck in the snow and Joel had to pull you out.” Joel, that son of a bitch…that big, sexy cowboy son of a bitch who left you in the snow. Who huffs and puffs and walks around like the sweatiest, filthiest, most delicious version of every nasty fantasy you’ve ever had. Of course she would drag him into this, maybe she’s the one who’s after the help.

“Speak of the devil,” she has this knowing look when her gaze travels past you to the doorway of the dining room. You glance over your shoulder to find yourself smack dab in the middle of one of those filthy dreams, dressed in green plaid and his brown Carhartt jacket, his black cowboy hat resting atop his head with curls peeking out of the sides, kissing the tips of his ears. His beard has grown out a tad too, making him look soft all over, scruffy and curly with a dimpled smile. The sight of him comes with a sudden rush of soothing comfort, warm eyes that make you feel safe, hidden in the shadows of his hat.

“Heard I was takin’ you somewhere?” He’s broad and sturdy, with a slight sheen of sweat on the peaks of his collarbones under his shirt. Under his beard, his neck is taught and his muscles are strained, his pulse visible beneath his skin despite his cool composure. If you know Joel, he did a days worth of work this morning to clear his schedule for the rest of the afternoon. He probably smells like sweat and dirt, like horses and leather under all that damn southern charm he possesses.

Actually, you can take me anywhere. On the couch, in my room, hell—in the glow of a fridge light.

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip to bite off your involuntary groan, shooting your mom a sharp look. She may play coy, might act like she's this innocent and sweet, cookie baking, laundry folding, house making mom who knows no better, but you see what she’s really up to. How she hides behind her little false oblivion, a facade she usually only uses for good. This doesn’t feel like it was for the greater good.

“You—“ you sneer at her quietly and she smiles with a “Not sure what you mean dear, but you better get a move on. I have to get dinner in the oven!” She scurries out of the room and into the next, letting the door swing closed behind her. Joel remains in the same spot, one shoulder pressed against the white wood frame of the old door, his muddy boots on the dark hardwood floors. Your eyes drag up the rest of him, his pants are tight in the middle, hugging his hips and probably just barely restraining what lays below the dark blue denim. There's a soft curve to his belly, made apparent when his arms cross over his chest and pull his shirt tight against his front.

His belly looks so damn soft. So fucking round and bite-able. A few more clicks up, his chest nearly bulging out of the buttons of the flannel. The buttons hang on for dear life, but you’re afraid if he flexes, they will scatter to the floor with your resolve.

He clears his throat and you finally meet his eyes. “Doin’ alright there, darlin’?” If his presence wasn’t enough, the bourbony southern drawl and the way he cocks his hip makes your thighs squeeze together involuntarily. “Yeah—Yep, just need to get dressed and I’ll be ready.” You’re still in a big sleep shirt, have been all morning because work for you doesn’t require pants half of the time. When you start to breeze past, his eyes drop to the exposed skin of your thighs.

“Been wonderin’…” he stops you with a big hand, pressed against your sternum when you try to pass by his solid form. He’s still faced the opposite direction than your body, only his head turns to look down at you, gone still beneath his stern fingertips. “If you always walk around naked under these shirts, or if you’re wearin’ somethin’ under there when mom and dad are ‘round?”

His eyes flick back to the door leading into the kitchen, where your mother is currently hiding from your scowl, then back down to the hem of your oversized shirt. The hand on your ribs shifts when you haul in a deep, stuttering breath. It slips a few inches lower, the tips of his thick fingers dipping into the flesh of your stomach, just below your belly button. He’s so close and so fucking firm where he holds you in place.

“Why don’t you have a look for yourself, Cowboy?”

You challenge him back and you swear he stops breathing beside you. He meets your dare with a low growl, reverberating inside his rib cage like a shout in a vast canyon. What the hell is happening right now, did he hit his head or something? Is he finally getting the fucking hint? How desperately you want him to have his way with you? Then again, the last time he saw you dressed like this, you were bent over, knowingly showing off everything you had to offer, the place you wanted him most, while you listened to the guttural sounds leaving the unsuspecting man behind you. You aren’t going to complain about the sudden shift in his attention, hell no—you’ll soak in what you can get from the leery cowboy.

You hardly register the way he moves until he leans forward and warm fingertips graze the skin just under your ass. He’s looking when he lifts the shirt all the way up to your tailbone slowly, covered by smooth black satin, a thong that hugs your hips but leaves your cheeks exposed to his greedy sight. His eyes are everywhere, your thighs and the curve of your bare behind. His fingers dip just under the black satin band on your hip, his expression is just shy of a devoted man as he drinks in the contrasting sensation of your smooth skin and the silky material.

“Fuck,” he murmurs under his breath, letting his hand slip from your panties to travel back down, unsure fingers tracing along the crease of your ass, curling under your cheek when he gets to the bottom. It’s the softest touch you’ve ever felt, full of admiration and barely restrained desire. It sets your skin on fire, radiating behind your eyelids. “Those are…damn pretty, sugar…but you better go get yourself ready, before you’re late.” His hands slip away from you completely and he turns in the direction of the door, already on his way out before you even fully process what just happened. What flipped inside of Joel on a random Wednesday afternoon in late February?

He leaves with a satisfied smirk with intentions of starting the truck while you stammer against the doorway and remind yourself to breathe. When the front door closes behind him, you lean against the wood he was just propped against, hoping his heat will still linger there. He instigated something, a secret whisper of want, the thought makes a grin break out from one side of your face to the other, pulling your cheeks tight. He wants you.

You get dressed with that same stupid grin plastered on your face. You shift through your closet a few times, but you keep falling back on the same outfit. A pair of flared jeans, light in color with stitch work on the sides. With a pair of boots, they make your ass look like a dream—just what you are going for, just so you can rile Joel further. You find a tight top and a thick wool flannel to throw over it, before tracking back down the stairs to the front door.

It’s the rush of adrenaline that shocks the agony from your brain, but the moment you bound down the front steps to his waiting truck, the door already propped open, you pause.

You stop at the foot of the stairs and turn, looking up the steps you’ve known your entire life, the screen door you’ve spent numerous summers swinging in and out of. The porch you’ve watched storms roll in from, the porch swing where you had your first kiss. All this and…your heart sinks. When you turn back towards the running chevy, Joel is staring back at you, his once knowing smirk traded in for a furrow of concern on his handsome features.

You climb into the passenger seat and fasten your seatbelt while Joel puts the truck in gear and pulls away from the house.

There’s a long stretch of road that passes in near silence, before it’s you who just can’t take it anymore. Joel, sweet fucking Joel sat beside you, respecting your emotions and your boundaries once again. “Ranch is ‘bout to be foreclosed.” You tell him. Once it’s spoken aloud, you realize just how imminent your family’s demise really is. How quickly you are going to lose everything, watch your parents walk away with no retirement and nothing to show for themselves, for generations of hard work.

You expect something, questions about how you know, how long you have, if there's anything he can do to help you, but the questions never come. Instead, Joel reaches over and presses his fingers into the latch on your buckle, pulling it off of you with one click.

“C’mere, sweet girl.” His tone is low, soft enough to not interrupt your thoughts, but enough to have you drawing across the bench seat and slipping under his sturdy arm while he drives. He keeps you tucked in close beside him, his hand trailing up and down your arm to ease out the pain residing in your veins. He takes one glance down at you and leans forward, his lips connecting with the crown of your head. “We’ll get through it. We ain’t goin’ down without a hell of a fight.”

We

We

Because after the years you’ve spent away from this place, Joel has come to think of the Rising Sun ranch as his home just as much as it is yours. He’d raised every one of the cattle on that ranch, he’s worked day and night to ensure its survival, he’s lost sleep and nearly limbs fighting to keep them afloat while you were gone. This is his home, his fight right alongside yours. Finally, the weight seems to ease up, shouldered by Joel's sense of responsibility for your family’s livelihood.

Beside you, he’s solid and warm, he’s alive and overflowing with strength, enough to spare, for something to cling to. You turn your head and bury your face in his shoulder, covering yourself in the shield of protection he has to offer, sturdy, devoted support that makes you feel lightheaded with security. He doesn’t push you further, doesn’t prod you for details. He just hangs on, keeps your body tucked in close to his while he drives into town. At some point, the rattling of the old truck along patchy highway roads lulls you into sleep with your head against his shoulder and one leg across his lap.

Joel, with all the strength he can muster—holds on tight.

“Hey,” your senses come rushing back when the truck comes to a stop and your warm pillow jostles under your head. You lift up off his weight a little and glance at him through a sleepy gaze, a soft smile present on his lips. “As much as I like you droolin’ all over me…” he gestures to wet stain on his flannel. “Think your friends plane lands soon, don’t want you to miss it.”

You get yourself together enough to look out the window. Joel parked right outside of baggage claim at Jacksons little airport and his arm still sits tightly around your shoulders. A deep sigh sets in to your bones and you lean against him for just a moment longer to soak in the warmth. “Hey, look at me, darlin’,” his hand wraps around your chin gently, coaxing your eyes up to his. “Don’t think about the ranch, at least till the week is over. Ain’t nothin’ you can do right now, so don’t let it ruin your birthday. Everythin’s gonna be alright.” His words trail off when a broad thumb swipes across the underside of your bottom lip, his gaze caught in yours so tightly you’re half sure the jaws of life couldn’t draw you apart. He breaks out into a grin and heaves a shallow laugh. “Had a little drool there.”

The little laugh that bubbles up in you breaks the eye contact and Joel shuts off the truck, untucking you from his arm. You check the time for safe measures, there's still a few more minutes before the plane lands and she still has to make it out the gates.

“Joel?” He’s fiddling with his key chain, adjusting a few backwards keys. “Hmm?” He barely makes eye contact—is he embarrassed? From holding you while you slept? “Thank you. For everything you’ve done for me—for my family while I’ve been gone. I can't think of a way to…repay you for everything.”

Joel glances over at you and something flashes in his brown eyes, something that looks like discomfort and shame. He takes a sharp breath in and squeezes his knuckles around the keys. “I didn’t do it all selflessly…please don’t take this wrong. I haven’t felt a sense of belonging in years. Me and Tommy have been drifting since I was twenty eight, working on one ranch after another. We’d stick around a town for six months and he’d get antsy, stir up trouble and we’d have to hit the road again.”

He brings his hand up to his mouth and chews on the corner of his thumb. He’s anxious, you can tell by the way his eyes flitter to you then away quickly. “I’ve covered his ass more times than I can count because I don’t know if I’ll be the same if I have to leave here. It feels fuckin—selfish, like I’m usin’ your folks. M’gettin’ old, my bones are tired and all I want is to…stop. Slow down for once in my life. I’ve never been more at peace than I am here, with your parents and the ranch. I was doin’ so good, gettin’ my mind right, hatin’ myself a little less and then—“ he trails off with a distant look in his eyes.

And then…what? What’s caused Joel to lose that sense of peace and stability? “What happened?” You sink back in the bench seat, run your fingers along the stitched pattern of color adorning the warn padding. “S’big snow storm came in…I was comin’ back from town because I took Tommy to pick up flowers. He’d been a real asshole to a sweet lady who didn’t deserve it. Was pissed off he was smokin’ in the truck, pissed he was jeopardizin’ our home again, when we see this little car stuck in the embankment, met this—real pretty girl, and she…” he sneaks a glance over at you, but he’s doing his best to find anywhere, anything else to look at. Cars passing by, the sun reflecting off the bright white paint on the cross walk. The older woman in-front of you, helping what looks like her daughter, load her luggage into the trunk.

“She got under my skin and I was flustered for the first time in a really long time. Kinda freaked me out—and then I left here there—‘cuz I was scared shitless and nothin’s ever been the same since. Sorta think she hates my guts half the time for it.”

There's this unsettling silence in the cab, Joel's nerves and his admission hanging in the air between you. He’s never ever been this vulnerable and honest with you before. You’ve talked to him more times than you can count now, a meaningless little conversation where you found everything you needed to change your mind about him. But he’s never opened himself up like he was right now, in the damn pick up line of the Jackson airport.

“Joel I…I already forgave you for that.” You forgave him for that when he gave you your necklace for Christmas. You forgave him when he carried a newborn calf half a mile through a snowstorm for you. You forgave him when you came down the stairs to him in that damn cowboy hat.

You forgave him when he came back for you and looked at you with those pretty brown eyes.

“What?” He looks over at you and you hold onto the eye contact for as long as you possibly can. “I don’t hate you. Furthest thing from it actually—I do hate how much you avoid me. Like I’m going to bite your head off any second—“ he snorts, cracks a white smile at you and his eyes crinkle at the sides, making your stomach flutter, little blue butterflies soaring through your abdomen. “You do bite my head off—often.”

Okay—maybe he’s a little right, maybe you let it get too far a few times, spent too many afternoons angry at his distaste for you, when all you wanted was a taste of him. “Well, I’m sorry…for all the things I’ve said to you, the things I’ve called you. But I’m not upset about that anymore. I forgave you for that a long time ago. You’ve already made up for it a million times, Joel.”

He’s grinning at you like you just told him he won the fucking lottery, his nervous hands drumming a absent tune against the steering wheel. He’s looking at you like it’s the first time you’ve ever met him, his eyes shining with mirth and admiration. “Think…you could give this ol’ cowboy another shot?” That nervous little shake of his jaw, the tick in his voice and the hopefulness in his eyes is enough to break anyone, but you? You’re so lost on him you never want to find your way back. Throw away the maps, toss the keys somewhere you’ll never find them again—you never want to go anywhere else in the world. Another shot? You’d give him all of them.

“Pretend you’ve never met me before.”

He blinks, cocks an eyebrow and makes a face of confusion at you. “I’ve never met you?” You nod, turn your whole body to face him on the bench seat of his old beat up chevy. “Like it’s the first time we’ve met. I’m Hank's daughter and you’re picking me up from the airport to take me home for the first time in years. We’ve never met. Try again, shoot your shot, cowboy.”

You’d like to imagine that's how it went—your mom and dad were too busy to come get you and you decided to fly because you knew your little car wouldn’t make it. They send Joel, because he’s trustworthy and punctual. They know he’ll treat their daughter with respect, they trust that he’ll use his better judgment, because they know he’s a good man. You know that under that rough, hard exterior is an anxious man searching for belonging, a good man.

Joel takes a deep breath, lets his mind drift out the window before he turns it back to you with a charming smile, one you’ve never been on the receiving end of. It’s smoldering, flirtatious—everything you imagined Joel to be after all those years of pinning after a man you’ve never laid eyes on. A Joel you’ve never met and desperately need to get to know better. “Prodigy daughter finally returns,” his drawl is thick and his eyes rake over you once, twice, before settling on your own. “I’m Joel.”

You giggle—rightfully so, because this Joel? This Joel is all quick wit and chivalry. You fake introduce yourself back, your grin mirroring his own. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Joel.”

“Pleasure is…all mine, darlin’.”

You could stare at him forever with that damn goofy smile on his face. “Anyone ever tell you—you look good in this?” You tell him, reaching up to flick the brim of his hat, but it stays firmly in place despite your efforts. He snorts and snaps up to catch your wrist, holding onto it tightly in his big hand. “S’funny, I was just thinkin’ about how good you’d look in my hat.” His thumb circles the inside of your wrist slowly,’ pushing down the fabric of your sleeve with the effort. Slowly, he draws your appendage closer, till his mouth hovers just above your skin. His eyes are like witnessing something tragic, so devastating you can't bring yourself to look away.

“In just—“ His eyes slip closed when his lips connect with the inside of your wrist. His lips are warm and so tender you fight down a soft whimper at the intoxicating sensation. When they open again, dangerous amber irises peer back at you like you’re their salvation. “-my cowboy hat.”

Oh—fuck. There’s an image you’ll never get out of your mind—your hands on his sweaty chest, the brim of his hat falling in front of your eyes while you try to keep it in place, despite the way you ride him—

“Joel—Jesus, you can’t just—“

He breaks out into a chest filled laugh, his eyes slip close and his head falls back. His whole body responds to the way he laughs, his legs kick up, his chest heaves and his belly bounces. He’s a menace, a damn trouble starter—he makes you see hearts around his head and a sparkle in his eyes you’re sure you’re imagining. He calms his laugh down with a few deep breaths, a grin still plastered on his handsome face. “What can I say? I’m really bad at first impressions.”

He is, but it doesn’t bother you like it used to. Joel isn’t and never will be the perfect man you’d envisioned. He’ll never be the Joel you’d made up in your head for so long, because that Joel was made solely for you, from your interpretation of a man who’s perfect for you in every way. But that Joel and the one in front of you are two vastly different people—this Joel is gruff at times, opinionated and flawed. He wasn’t made perfect for you, but you find that the things that make him the least like the Joel in your mind—are the things that you like most about him. He’s gruff, but he’s punctual and takes no shit. He’s opinionated, but he’s wise about life, he’s earned the right to voice his beliefs. He’s flawed—he has crows feet by his kind eyes, graying curls and weathered hands—but it’s his flaws that entice you to learn more about him. They make him real in front of you instead of a made up, faceless man in your dreams.

Your phone chimes in your pocket and it sucks you from the void in the cab of this old truck, away from Joel's charming smile and his burning hand on your wrist. He pulls away and the moment dissipates into dust on the dashboard.

Melly: I just got my bag, headed out now!

“Be right back,” you slip out the door with a firm shut and try your hardest not to glance back at the man in the cab of that blue and white truck.

Finding Melly is easy, she sticks out like a sore thumb with her blonde hair and too-blessed chest. What did she do in a past life for tits like that, anyways?

She comes out the double doors and jogs to you with a grin your wearing on your own face. “Oh my gosh!” She squeals, finally getting close enough to throw your arms around each other. It’s been months since you’ve seen each other after spending everyday together for the last two years. You tumble around together in your hug for a few minutes before she pulls back to look you over, in a pair of flared jeans and boots. “Oh man, the country got you.” She jokes, faking a deflated sigh. “Would you fuck off?” She laughs menacingly, slinging her bag over her shoulder for more security. “Let me guess, you’re still trying to drive that cowboy crazy, right?”

With a deep eye roll, you finally look back at the truck. He’s looking right back at you, an easy smile on his lips when your eyes connect. You look back to your best friend and make a face. “He uhm…he actually drove me…to come get you. He’s in the truck, please be nice to him, okay?” She sneers and you know she means trouble when you help her with her things on her way to the truck.

“Please don’t fucking embarrass me, I swear dude—“ Mel gives you a little shove and huffs a laugh when you put her suitcase in the bed of the pickup. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to ruin your shot with the old dude.” She looks around you, eyeing him from outside of the truck without his knowledge. “Holy shit, dude he’s hot. He’s like, stupid hot.”

You look over at him too and like he can feel your eyes on him, he looks over his shoulder, smiles warmly and you know it—

Know you’re fucked.

“Not a word.” Mel throws her hands up innocently and follows your lead when you open the door of the truck and climb in the middle, sliding in right beside Joel, reclaiming the space you’d taken up on your way here.

The whole drive back to the ranch, your body is on fire along the parts that connect to Joel, pressed so close you’re afraid you might melt into him.

Two days pass in a blur.

You spend a lot of time with Mel, catching up on how she's been doing since graduating, how she likes work—she’s a wildlife biologist in Colorado, who’s still learning the ropes of the job but she’s never been more excited to be a part of something. You don’t tell her about the ranch for a good reason, but she still asks and doesn’t say anything if she notices the look on your face when you lie to her.

We’ll get through it

You love spending time with her, but you don’t see a lot of Joel besides meals. He’s pleasant and soft, smiling at you like he’s never worn a frown on that handsome face. He sits too close at dinner, draws your gaze in far too many times for it to be an accident. It’s not anymore but it’s still so damn hard to make yourself believe that this isn’t just a fleeting moment—temptation breathing life into you for the first time in years, teasing you with possibilities.

He makes you burn but he doesn’t push further, doesn’t chase that desire down its narrowing path. It’s so close—you’re so close to finally making him yours.

When your birthday rolls around, he’s nowhere to be seen at breakfast. When you head out to the stables, the horses have already been fed and there's no trace of the man who plagues your every waking moment. The truck is gone and the tire-tracks in the driveway look old, like he’s been gone for hours. It’s not that he’s required to see you on your birthday, but you thought things were going to change. You thought that re-meeting him in the truck at the airport would restart everything, he’d realize you want him around more than the ranch hand who got under your skin and made you desperate for his attention. It feels naive, to watch out the window for his truck for most of the morning, pining after that faded powder blue and rust.

“This is depressing to watch from the outside, you know that right?” Comes Mel’s voice from the other side of your room when you check the window for the first time in the last half hour. She's painting her nails on the chair in your room while you peer through the blinds like he might appear out of thin air without you hearing the rumble of his old chevy. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You do your best to defend yourself, stepping away and crossing your arms as you trudge to your bed.

“Don’t play dumb with me, I know you. You’re pacing your room wondering when you’ll see him. You know everyone can see the way you guys look at each other right? When are you guys going to like…kick it up a notch, get in his pants?”

You toss yourself on the fluffy sheets and close your eyes tight, letting your mind wander for a moment. “I don’t know…” what are you going to do, if you cant even see him long enough to get him alone? Tonight is the dance and you were hoping he’d be there, maybe he’d ask you for a dance. You’ve never told a boy in your hometown yes to a dance at this thing, but you’d change that for Joel. If he asked, you’d let him spin you around all night long.

Only problem is, he can’t do that if he’s still avoiding you like you're an illness he can’t afford to catch. “He’s so confusing. One second he acts like…he wants me, the next he’s hiding from me, probably—ugh, I just wish I could get him out of my head if he wants nothing to do with me!”

The room is silent, still for all of five glorious seconds before Mel breaks it. “Does he still run away to jerk off?” You snap your eyes over to her with a sharp glare. “Yes! And he drives me up the fucking wall, dude! All I want is to get my hands on that delicious man and he runs away every time. How am I ever supposed to accomplish anything if I can't even get him alone for five minutes. And every time I do, something happens and ruins it all.”

You can't seem to get a second with him no matter how hard you try. The last two days, he hasn’t been around aside from his work in the morning, a few meals he makes it to in between. If you’re being honest, it's painful to think about the way he’d smiled at you a few days ago and the way he doesn’t have the time of day now.

“If he shows up at that dance tonight, I’m making sure you get your second alone. Now come on, let me help you pick out your dress. He won't know what he’s missing out on.”

By the time you’re headed out the door for town, Joel is still nowhere in sight. You thought you’d heard his truck for a moment earlier, but when you’d peered out the window a few minutes later, there was no blue chevy in the driveway. No cowboy waiting out front for you.

You trudged to the car in your black dress, two slits up the sides where your thighs peak out and a back so low your half afraid your ass is going to fall out of the damn thing. You do your best to hold it up when you walk through the dirt, a pair of knee high red cowgirl boots are the only thing saving you from the mud right now.

Melly isn’t far behind, but she's not dressed in anything nearly as revealing as you. She’s making friends with Tommy who surprisingly hasn’t tried to flirt yet and claims to have no idea where his older brother has disappeared to. He’s endearing, but you know he’s playing for both sides here, hiding something for his brother.

On the drive into town, your parents take your dads truck, leaving you, Mel and Tommy in your car. When you get about half way, you finally break and ask if Tommy has seen Joel, if he knows if he’s coming. Tommy shrugs in the rearview mirror with a smile.

“I’m sure we’ll see ‘em.” Is the only answer you get.

It doesn’t happen for hours.

Hours of forcing a smile through mind numbing conversation with people you haven’t seen in years. The same old how have you been in the big city? and you tell them it was hard work and commitment. They ask no plans for the future? like you’re doomed without a ring on your hand at your age. You keep your head up through every comment, back handed compliment and pick up line that passes you by for a whole fucking hour on the dance floor alone.

“I think I want to go home soon. I’m having the worst fucking time, my feet are killing me and I think my eyelash is falling off.” Your whining and limping, faking distress and discomfort for any shot to get the fuck out of here, go home and maybe you can chance a run in with Joel.

Maybe he’s coming in from the north pasture where he’s probably been hiding all day. He’d be covered in muck and sweat, dirt clinging to the creases in his face. He’d be tired and worn out, vulnerable to the way you’d take advantage of his weakened restraint. “You sure you don’t want to stay a few minutes longer?” Melly muses beside you sipping on a tall glass of tequila on ice, watching the small town’s people converse and dance, laugh and gather together under the low string lighting.

You take a long drag of the drink in your own hand, your third of the night that's finally starting to warm your insides. It’s not enough to ease the ache of wishing Joel would appear. You know he won't, there's only a few hours left and people are starting to get tipsy. “I think you might want to rethink that…the devil himself just walked in, twelve o’clock.”

You look up at her, in a pretty green dress with curly hair framing her face. She’s smirking over your shoulder at something—or someone behind you. You turn the rest of the way around and swear you’re in the middle of one of those movie scenes.

The ones where the love interest walks in and sexy rock plays while they walk in slow motion. With wind blowing this hair back even though they are inside. Joel fucking Miller was doing exactly that at this very minute, striding through the hall in his cowboy hat and a black button down, dark wash jeans and his boots. He looks like a wet dream standing there, looking a little bit lost and so damn handsome. Under his hat, you can see that his hair is slicked back and he looks clean like he’d gone home and gotten ready.

He’s here.

“Oh he looks…if you don’t ask him to dance, I will. He’s hot.” You wish you could explain to her that Joel is more than that, that he’s funny and endearing, that he’s honorable and loyal to a fault. He’s so many more things than just hot. You swivel around as he makes his way through the crowd, he’s bound to find you and you don’t want him to spot you gawking at him. “Do I look okay? Fuck he looks so good—is my hair alright?” You try to do a quick pat down but Melly grabs your hand with a smile. “You look fine. He’s not going to know what hit him, I promise—but he’s coming this way so whatever you do, chill out.”

She sets her drink on the tall table, the ones that adorn the outside of the dance floor for people who want to mingle. You take a long drink of yours and move to set it down when someone clears their throat behind you. The drink hits the table and you turn slowly, till you rotate around to face him completely. He’s even more devastating up close with pearl snap buttons on his shirt, his arms nearly bulging out of the damn thing. His facial hair looks shorter, his eyes shimmering with reflected light.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doin’, standin’ here all by herself on her birthday?” He grins at you and takes another step forward. “Guess I’m just waiting for the right cowboy to ask me for a dance.” You tease back, reaching out for him once he’s close enough for you to touch. You start at his stomach, soft under his dress shirt. When your hands make contact, a visible shiver runs through Joel.

There’s suddenly two more hands to join the party, one high up on your waist while the other curves around low on your hip, his digits digging into the top of your ass. “I’ll be real’ honest with you here, doll—askin’ you for a dance is the only reason I came tonight.” He smells good for once, usually you catch a hint of his shower under the smell of dirt and manure, a faintness of his once clean skin. Now, it’s all you can focus on—how he’d taste like his soap, smooth and clean, every part of him reachable by your watering mouth. “Well, Cowboy…go on.” Your hands slip up his chest and over his broad shoulders, like you’ve imagined yourself doing a thousand times. He’s responsive, lowers his shoulders so you fit along him perfectly.

“Would ya make this old man's day, let me have a dance?” His hand drops lower, along the side of your thigh until he can dig them into the curve under your ass. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was trying to hoist you up, drag you into that vice-like grip you want to be at the mercy of every day of your life. “Can’t get me any closer, Joel.” You giggle, hiding your face against his neck. He smells like after shave and a little like whiskey. “I thought you were giving up drinking?” You nip at his jaw lightly, just to listen to the way he rumbles against you.

“I’m—tryin’ to keep my cool here, but you look fucking incredible tonight. Needed a little courage to walk up to you, s’all.” He leans back slightly, looking down at the way your dress squeezes your tits together, nearly pouring out of the black satin. “Fucking…gorgeous in this thing, you know that? You knew how sexy this little thing was, didn’t you?” He pulls at the slit that exposes your thighs, raking it up a little higher, until he can get a handful of bare skin. He’s not wrong—you’d put the dress on and thought about all the ways it would drive Joel crazy if he saw you in it.

“You better take me dancing before you take this off of me.” The dance around you has started to fade away. Melly took her cue to go and has started to make conversation elsewhere. “With pleasure, darlin’.”

Joel all but carries you to the middle of the dance floor before you notice his obvious nervous ticks, the shake of his hands and the way he’s fighting the urge to gnaw on his thumb. He’s anxious despite his obvious attempt at faking composure. When you wrap your arms around his shoulders again, he stammers. “Need to tell you somethin’.” His voice is a little shaky on the inhale when his hands find your waist again. “I went into town last week, there’s this dance studio on sixth street and I thought, maybe I could trade work for someone to…teach me how to use my damn feet.” For added flair, he reels away from you and spins you once before drawing you back into his chest as he moves. “So, I take it someone taught you?”

The song changes, something slow, romantic and sweet that couples join in around you, swaying together around the dance floor. “Lady said she’d been lookin’ for someone to replace the dance floor. Told her I just wanted to learn to dance, so I’d stand a chance against the other schmucks askin’ you.” He dances you around for a few more moments, pulling out all the stops—every new move he learned. Was that why he was gone so much, disappearing every time you turned around? He was replacing a damn floor and learning how to dance, all for you?

“Joel—“ you start, trying to grab ahold of him for long enough to make him still. “There's somethin’ else,” he dips you back and your insides flutter, looking up at him with those big brown hopeful eyes. He stands you up right again and the dancing slows to a stop, right there in the middle of the dance hall. You’re sure the towns eyes are on you, your mom and dad, friends from high school, older people you’ve been around your entire life. “She wouldn’t let me leave without payin’ me for it, said dancin’ lessons don’t cost that much after all.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a envelope, sealed tight with a number written on the front.

“Ranch needs it a whole hell of a lot more than I do. S’just two grand, but I’ve found a few other odd jobs, so there will be more comin’, but it’s a start—“ your hand clasps over his clutching the envelope. You push his hand down, stepping forward until you're nearly standing on his own feet. “Joel Miller…are you going to stand there all night running your mouth, or are you going to kiss me?” This endearing man, this big, expressive cowboy who can’t seem to get anything right in his own eyes, but everything right in yours.

He chuckles, the hand not holding the envelope finds the side of your face, sliding his thumb along the apple of your cheek. He’s not the one to make the first move after all—after all the leading him towards it, the teasing and the showmanship. It’s you that stands up high on your tiptoes and drags him the rest of the way in, until his mouth finds yours in the lull of the dance hall, surrounded by swaying bodies and sweet music.

He sucks in a breath through his nose and his mouth opens, slots your lips between his when he finally, fucking finally gives all the way in. It’s sweet, chaste while you stand there, smack dab in the middle of the floor. Joel stuffs the envelope back into his pocket and his other hand finds your body again, yanking until you're flushed against him, digging your hands into his shoulders when his tongue licks along the seam of your mouth, begging to be let into the slick heat. What was slow and steady, soon becomes frantic, hot and needy. Your fingers tug at the buttons of his shirt and someone shoots off a whistle from across the room, enough to have you reeling apart. Joel's mouth is red, his lips swollen and shiny from your spit.

“You want to get out of here?”

Yes. Fucking hell yes you wanted to, you’ve wanted to all damn night, but with Joel standing in front of you, a strained tent in his dark jeans, it’s all you can think about. Instead of a response, you grab him by his hand and all but drag him out the back doors towards the parking lot. It's quiet, dark—the dance isn’t even close to being over so there’s next to no one in the parking lot.

You never stood a chance, looking back on this moment right here. You never would have stood a chance, with Joel’s ragged breathing behind you when he closes the door tight behind him.

One look at his wild eyes and parted lips, you should have known how this night was going to end.

Joel was desperate. He needed you, needed to touch you every second of his day. He thought about you every second he spent awake and he dreamt of you all night long. When he’d heard about the dance, he wanted to kick himself for not learning sooner. Finding the dance studio was a fluke, learning to dance was a damn nightmare and the floor wasn’t much better, but he’d do it all again for another opportunity to press you up against the brick wall with your thighs pressed apart and his hips slotted between them while he all but devoured your mouth.

He’s ruthless, relentless as he drags your bottom lip between his teeth. You—you can't keep your sounds to yourself, hiking your legs up higher around his waist when he presses in closer. He can feel himself straining through his jeans, can feel the heat of your core against his painfully hard cock. He’d take you right fucking here if you let him. “Joel—Joel,” your hips roll down to meet his uncontrollable press forward. “I know—fuck, baby, I know.” His movements are hurried and frantic, like this might be the only shot he has to get his hands on you. His mouth finds your jaw and he bites down on your flesh, relishing in the salty taste of sweat from dancing, the tang of your perfume and the sweet taste of your skin. It’s your sharp whine that gets him in motion again, his stilled teeth still hanging on to your delicate jaw. “Touch me, please—please, touch me.”

In a scurry, he drops his hand between your bodies, pushing the fabric of your dress to the side so his fingertips can work under the elastic of your panties, past the soaked material to the place he’s always longed to touch, always wondered what it would feel like.

And you are fucking drenched under his exploring digits. He slips them through your lips, your slick already dripping down his knuckles when he finds your clit and presses the pad of his thumb to it, swirling it around in a swift motion. Your head falls back and your mouth hangs open, a silent scream on your parted lips.

“There it is, huh? S’what finally gets you quiet? Just needed me to touch your pussy, didn’t you?” He groans when your thighs tremble against him, trying to tighten up around his waist where he has you pinned to the cold wall. His thumb keeps its rhythm while his fingers dip lower, making him breathless at how easily your body draws those fingers in. You come apart like you were meant to do just that, your body rapidly chasing him towards the brink. If he hadn’t gotten himself off twice today, he’s sure he’d already have cum in his pants from just this. “Yes-Yes, Joel—make me cum, please!” Your voice is wrecked.

Your eyes rolled back in your head, your chest heaving in that pretty little dress—your tits are about to bust out of the damn thing. He picks up the pace, slams his fingers into your heat and curls them while his thumb makes quick work of your clit. It’s been so long since he touched a woman, but he’ll never forget the signs.

You are dangerously, furiously close in mere minutes alone. “That’s it, pretty girl—cum on these fingers, let me feel her squeeze me.” You cry out sharply and he nearly covers your mouth with his other hand, but he doesn’t move. Instead, he revels in the pulse of your pussy on his fingers, the way you grind down against him while your body grasps for release. It comes to you with a whole body shake, a ragged gasp of his name and his tongue on your jugular.

When he pulls his hand free, it’s with a wet sound that makes his gut tighten and his knees weak. He has to get you somewhere more secluded, away from the prying eyes of the town folks. “Wunna taste you,” he growls lowly, dragging you away from the building despite the way you stumble, the lightheadedness from cuming on his fingers.

His truck is parked in the back for lack of a better spot, due to his tardiness. He’ll thank his lucky stars for it later, if he can remind himself of it. Now, he slings the door open and nearly throws you down on the bench seat. “C’mere, girl.” He’s running out of will power and common sense, the only thing driving his mind right now is sheer want, carnal desire to get his mouth all over what he’s already ruined. He’s lucky for the part of his brain that slips off his hat and sets it on the dashboard. “Lemme see that fuckin’ pussy.”

His hands find the backs of your knees and he yanks you to the edge of the seat. At this angle, he can spread you out and kneel beside the truck, let you use the door jam to rest your foot on. When your eyes find him, he thinks you’re just as far gone as he is, blinded to the world unfolding around you, to rubber hitting asphalt nearby.

“I’m going to fucking ruin you, babygirl. Only word you’ll know is my name when I’m finished with you.” He pushes your dress up with your hurried help, both of you desperately trying to rid you of your clothes as quickly as possible. The second he has your panties dangling between his finger tips, he pushes his head between your spread legs and buries himself under your dress.

The thing about Joel is, he’s always been too good at this. Half the time, it's the only reason women stick around. It must have been the only reason he got his ex wife to marry him.

He’s abandoned his shame and better judgment. He’s starved, famished for a taste of you. This man, this unhinged version of Joel eats pussy like he’s going to die without it. From the very second his mouth finds your center, he’s lost to your immodest cries, your mindless begging for him to keep going, never stop, never stop, Joel—please. He opens his mouth wide, slops his tongue through your folds like he’s trying to lick every drop from your sensitive skin. He pulls away for a breath and his eyes bounce up to meet yours, transfixed on his relentless attack. “Wunna split this little pussy open on me,” he says, muffled against your soft mound. He takes another long lap and moans at the heady taste of you on his greedy tongue.

“I’ve been practicing—I got, oh, fuck Joel, like that,” your head tips back and he pulls his mouth away completely. “You got what, baby, use your words.”

Your body clenches on nothing and his eyes track the movement with a low rumble. “Got a toy that’s as big as you so I could practice. So I'd be able to take you.”

You’d thought about this, about him. You’d thought about him while fucking yourself on a toy you’d bought to train yourself.

He doesn’t have the words to express the way it makes his chest tighten, so he presses his face between your thighs again and gets back to work, drawing out every secret you can no longer hold onto, how good he makes you feel, how hot and devastating his tongue is—how the sound of a car pulling up doesn’t even register until—

“Jackson Police department, step away from the vehicle!”

You should have known.

[queerofthedagger]

reeling through the midnight streets

[Steddie | T+ | no warnings | ao3]

Written for @steddie-week day 2; bittersweet + fluff/angst (a bit of all of those)

-

“God, I used to have such a crush on you,” Eddie says, all casual. “Back in ’86, I mean.”

To Steve, the words feel like a car crash. They are said easily, mirthfully, but they change something fundamental about the space around them; Eddie’s cozy, clustered living room, the languid air between them. About those years—eight exactly—between now and the one that Eddie is so carelessly flinging in his general direction.

As if he doesn’t care whether it lands or not.

“What,” Steve chokes out, delayed, and it’s a wonder his voice doesn’t break.

From across the room, lying sideways in a worn armchair, Eddie raises a brow. “Oh, come on, you already know that I’m bi, you’re cool with Robin and Nancy—“

“What,” Steve repeats, and his voice lilts up at the end there, going tinny. He feels like he’d stuck his hand into a socket, and not in a hot way. “That is absolutely the last fucking thing I care about, man. In case you’ve missed the casual-but-entirely-on-purpose way I’d referred to my fucking ex-boyfriend—this isn’t even the point. What the fuck did you just say?”

Finally, through the haze of an evening full of weed and whiskey, Eddie seems to clock that his words may have not landed as casually as he had been aiming for.

Whatever the fuck he had been thinking.

“Look, it’s not that big of a deal, yeah? I was young and impressible, and you’d basically saved my life; easy for the poor queer kid to develop an unfortunate crush on the golden knight in shining armor.”

Steve laughs, a hollow sound. He leans forward on the couch and runs a hand through his hair. Looks back up at Eddie, at the faint but genuine confusion in his eyes, and knows that this isn’t a joke or an attempt to fuck with him.

Steve swallows. “You know, I always thought…”

He cannot finish the sentence. His mind isn’t clear enough for this, their spontaneous Friday night hangout turning a bit less casual when Eddie found a bottle of whiskey—coincidentally, of course, Stevie, what do you take me for—as if for old time’s sake.

He wonders if Eddie had planned this. If Steve’s the idiot, for not being able to laugh about it, too. For feeling like the words have wrapped themselves around the cage of his ribs like a fist, waiting to close.

“What,” Eddie laughs softly, not unkindly. “That I viewed you as some untouchable thing, the babysitter?”

“God you’re—“ making it worse, with each and every word. Steve clears his throat. “I always thought, you know, if you hadn’t left. I thought we could’ve been…”

Something. Anything. A fucked-up thing breaking after a year because they both didn’t know what to do with themselves, much less someone else in their life. Something good, something solid, the way their friendship had been.

Just. Something. Something more than broken promises and dwindling phone calls, than running into each other by chance in goddamn Colorado Springs, 1995, after years of no contact.

Across from him, Eddie is finally paying attention, sitting up straight in the armchair and looking at Steve the way Steve feels on the inside; raw and flayed open, like he’s coming apart.

There is a ringing at the base of his skull that sounds exactly like the one that had clung to him those first few weeks, months—too long—after Eddie had left.

“We could have been what, Steve.”

Steve laughs again, shakes his head. “Come on, don’t make me say it.”

A part of him had always thought that Eddie must have known, even as Steve had barely understood it himself. There was only so much sharing the same bed night after night, so much of fingers always reaching for skin, all casual, so many heavy silences and heavier confessions disguised as something else that could happen before—

He’d always thought that Eddie must have known. That he had looked at Steve, weighed him up against everything else, and decided it wasn’t quite worth the trouble.

“No, I think I need you to say it, actually,” Eddie says, his fingers restless on his rings.

In the dim light of three am, he looks so much like the Eddie that had haunted Steve’s sleep for years, he almost believes that this is nothing but a nightmare.

It makes him bristle, an old habit still not properly buried. “Weren’t you the one who just said it wasn’t a big deal?”

Always a bitch when things get too close for comfort, Steve; it’s something Eddie once knew, too.

“It didn’t,” Eddie allows, lifting one shoulder into a shrug. “Then you made it a thing.”

“I made it a thing? Jesus, Eddie, you’re—“ He bites down on the words, keeping them from spilling over—an eternity of longing bleeding all over Eddie’s faded rug.

It’s taken so long to get over it, the sudden leaving, the following silence. The helpless compassion in Robin’s eyes, Nancy’s pursed lips, the hours Steve had spent staring at his stupid fucking phone. The lingering phantom sensation of Eddie’s blood still on his hands, of Eddie curling around him in his sleep, of his fingers against Steve’s skin.

It’s taken so long, but Steve had managed. Had a couple of more or less successful relationships, found a job, is settled now. Hell, his current relationship has been going steady for months.

He looks up, holds Eddie’s eyes. Each and every word burns like acid on its way through his throat. “I was so in love with you, it fucked me up for a year when you left, Munson.”

Eddie’s eyes widen, his entire body going still. Steve stops paying attention, instead getting up and grabbing his jacket. He has to get out of here, away from the dim light and Bowie playing in the background, the half-empty whiskey bottle and Eddie. Most of all from Eddie.

His life is good. It had taken a while, had taken an entire rearrangement of the pieces left in the wake of Nancy and Eddie and all the pains of being a teenager with absent parents and an alternate dimension dogging his steps, but he’d done it.

He thought it’d be fine to let Eddie Munson shove his way back into Steve’s life. It will be. He just—he needs—

“Steve—“

“It’s fine,” he says, plastic smile spreading across his face instinctively. He fixes his eyes somewhere to Eddie’s right. “Don’t worry about it, I got over it ages ago. Just, you know—I have a date with Nora tomorrow anyway, and I—“

He hasn’t lied this poorly in years. Eddie looks at him like he did in 1987, when he’d left Hawkins for good.

Steve runs a hand across his face and drops the smile for a smaller, more honest one. “Give it a couple of days, yeah? I’ll get over it; I always do.”

He doesn’t wait for an answer this time, slips out of the flat to let the cool mountain air wash over him, breathe and breathe and breathe until every muscle in his body stops feeling like a faulty live wire.

---

In the light of sober morning, Steve’s first impulse is to skip town.

His second is to grit his teeth, get up, and deal with his hangover. It doesn’t exactly lessen the hot-faced shame, but then, he has an inkling that nothing but time will do that.

He allows himself a couple of days to mull it over—he’s not sulking, Robin, thank you very much. To meet Nora for dinner and remind himself that he isn’t the same heartbroken, left-behind kid that he had been at twenty, and that Eddie may have barreled right past all of Steve’s carefully crafted defenses last night, but that it doesn’t mean that he is still a scalpel sliding into the soft parts of Steve’s heart.

It is a week until he picks up the phone. He refuses to feel guilty about it—there really were approximately thirty better ways Eddie could have gone about dropping that particular revelation.

They meet at a coffee shop close to the record store where Eddie works and make it through the slightly awkward greetings and orders, taking their drinks to go. Spring sunlight is finally crawling over the mountains in the distance, and even though the wind is still chilly, it’s like coming back alive.

“So,” Eddie says, once they’ve turned left into a small park. He glances over at Steve, a sharp crease between his brows, and then squares his shoulders. “I’m not going to apologize.”

Steve hadn’t exactly planned any of this through; it was the only way to avoid overthinking what he wanted—and didn’t want—Eddie to say. The declaration still makes him clench his teeth to keep the first and the second answer from slipping out.

Eddie stops on the narrow path, turning to look at Steve. There is something severe to him, the harsh twist of his mouth pulling at the faded scars. “What did you want me to do, Steve; the entire town still hated me, and even before it did, Hawkins never had a particularly shining future in store for me—“

“Unlike for me, you mean?” Steve scoffs, bitterness creeping into his tone.

It’s not how this is supposed to go. He isn’t supposed to still be so godforsaken hurt, is supposed to take the whiskey-hazy night and laugh it off, bury it the same way he had buried all of those sugar-spun dreams for their future, back in 1987.

Eddie shrugs, but he’s too tense for it to look casual. “Yeah, maybe; doesn’t really matter at the end of the day, does it?”

Steve lets his gaze travel through the sorry excuse of a park, sickly-looking trees blocking out the Rockies.

“Yeah,” he laughs, dropping his half-empty cup into the nearest trash. “What does it matter, at the end of the day.”

“Steve…”

“No, I know, it’s—“ He runs a hand through his hair, pulls himself together. He looks back at Eddie and he’s still frowning, the seriousness sitting wrong on his face. “Did you ever—I mean... I could have come with you. You could have asked.”

There is a beat of silence during which Eddie’s face goes blank, and then it crumbles with something so wildly hurt that Steve wants to take it back, shove the words back down his throat and let them rot there.

“Fuck, Steve, don’t you think I wanted to?”

And because Steve can never leave well enough alone, he asks, “Why didn’t you?”

Eddie smiles, a distorted, sad thing that makes Steve regret every step that has brought them here.

“Well, I wish that I could whip out the big selfless story, but truth be told—I don’t know. I think… I mean, do you think we would have made it? That we were ready for… That we wouldn’t have fucked off to Chicago or New York or wherever with Robin, that we wouldn’t have torn each other and ourselves apart with how…”

He doesn’t finish the sentence. He doesn’t need to. After all, they are standing hundreds of miles away, hundreds of days later, and are still choking on the same aching enormity of it.

Steve closes his eyes. Breathes in, out, and keeps his hands very, very still to stop them from reaching out.

“Yeah,” he finally says, his voice hoarse. “Yeah, we would have fucked it up.”

This time, the silence drags on, a moment of impenetrable mourning for everything that never was, never will be.  

Eventually, Eddie visibly shakes himself, his eyes careful on Steve’s face. “At least this way, we still get to be friends, right? Took a while and a few detours, but much better than ending up hating each other’s guts and having to split custody of the kids.”

“Friends, yeah,” Steve agrees, forcing a smile. He doesn’t ask, isn’t this what we have been doing? Avoiding each other for years, splitting time, making excuses and now, finally, pretending that we can be fine, a clean slate? All the pain of breakup, just with a story about missed opportunity, rather than doomed romance. All broken heart and no ready explanation for it.

It’s not pretense, though, he reminds himself. They’re fine. It’s good; he wants Eddie back in his life, and it’s not—

They’re not in love anymore. There’s no reason why they shouldn’t manage to be friends, this time around.

“Come on,” he says, nudging their shoulders together and swallowing down the relief washing across Eddie’s face like pain relief. “Let’s get a drink, yeah? To old friends, and all that rot.”

Eddie laughs, nudges him back, and it’s fine. It’ll be fine.

---

Eventually, inevitably, things go back to normal. Time passes, and while that particular night, that particular revelation, settles into the marrow of Steve’s bones as if to stay there for the rest of his days, they fall back into their usual rhythm easily.

Time passes, and he and Nora break up because sooner or later, that’s how all of his relationships end. Eddie gets drunk with him about it, both of them lying sprawled across his living room floor, fingers brushing, and Steve thinks about kissing him but doesn’t, so it’s all fine. It’s all utterly, perfectly fine.

---

Except that it’s not.

They aren’t teenagers anymore, so they no longer share a bed on flimsy excuses or live in each other’s pockets the same way, but their lives merge and tangle more and more as late summer washes everything golden and languid.

They meet after work and Eddie listens as Steve rants about his coworkers, and they drive up to Denver where Eddie plays the occasional gig. Steve teaches Eddie how to cook something more elaborate than pasta, and Eddie shows Steve how to fix his car himself.

They talk; about the time in between, about why Eddie left and why Steve didn’t, for so long. The kids visit and Dustin is over the moon as if he’s still fifteen and desperate for them to get along.

They’re not teenagers anymore, but as autumn tapers out, the nights already chilling up here, Steve knows that he’s falling in love again. That he should do something about it, because he has gotten his heart broken once already, and how he doesn’t.

---

Except.

They make the drive to San Francisco for New Year because one of those bands Eddie is ridiculously into is playing a show, and Nancy and Robin are in London for their anniversary. Steve just knows that if he didn’t have proper plans, Robin would have felt bad at least half the time instead of enjoying herself.

Not that he minds; many of those big, official holidays have lost some of their appeal throughout their teenage years—4th of July, Halloween, Christmas in the final showdown—and he likes San Francisco well enough.

He likes Eddie a little too much, but at least it’s good to see him happy; Steve already knows that he and his heart are a lost cause.

Except. When the clock is about to strike midnight, Eddie is standing close, the crowd around them a living, breathing thing. The lights go kaleidoscope around them, the bass thrumming through the floor, up Steve’s legs, and Eddie is still the only thing in the whole room he wants to look at—messy hair, glitter on his face, and cherry-pink lips from some abomination of a drink and all.

Eddie takes a step closer as the front man yells the ten of the countdown.

“Hey.”

Steve’s throat is dry. His head is swimming from too many shots and Eddie’s proximity both, from the electric current setting his blood alight.

“Hey,” he says, and it comes out hoarse, unsteady. Eddie’s fingers tangle in the front of Steve’s shirt, and Steve—

Steve knows what’s about to happen next. The crowd shouts the five, and Eddie is smiling, eyes wide and warm and lovely. Steve loves him so much that he won’t survive the second time that Eddie Munson breaks his heart.

Three. Eddie’s hand curls around Steve’s hip. Steve thinks of the tail-end of 1987. Of 1988.

Two. Steve remembers the bathroom floor, Robin’s arms around him, the glaring headaches from too much alcohol.

One. It might be different this time. Eddie leans in.

But what if it’s not.

At point midnight, Steve turns his head away. Eddie’s attempt at a kiss land on his cheek and he steps back. Perhaps it’s not his heart, but something within him breaks at the look on Eddie’s face.

He forces a smile, forces himself to lean back in so he can speak over the noise around them. Forces words past his throat that taste like ashen betrayal, pretending that he isn’t choking on the burn of it.

“I’m so glad we’re friends, dude! To another year, right?”

He doesn’t hear Eddie’s answer if there is one. For the first time in a long time, Steve Harrington runs.

---

The drive back to Colorado Springs is one of the most uncomfortable experiences in Steve’s memory, and he’d once been friends with his ex-girlfriend and the guy she’d replaced him with.

Neither he nor Eddie acknowledge what had happened, how Steve couldn’t bring himself to return to their hotel until early morning, and how, when he finally did, Eddie had clearly faked being asleep.

They should be better than this by now, older and wiser and more mature, but Steve keeps his eyes fixed firmly on the road, and Eddie keeps his anywhere that isn’t Steve. They only talk when absolutely necessary, and if it wasn’t for years of carting the loudest bunch of annoying little dipshits around, Steve’s pretty certain that the utter distraction of it all would have made him crash the car.

By the time he finally pulls up in front of Eddie’s apartment complex, every part of him feels like he did.

“Steve—“

“I’ll call,” he cuts in. “I just—I need to catch up on sleep, yeah?”

He can feel Eddie looking at him, and he knows that he’s being unreasonable and stupid and, most importantly, a massive fucking asshole. He still cannot bring himself to look back.

The door closing softly is a gunshot, bullet to the heart.

---

Steve doesn’t call. He stares at his goddamn phone for three days, and every time he thinks that he’ll be able to use it, he sees Eddie’s face again, bright and glittering and hopeful, leaning in. Tired and haggard, telling Steve that he’s leaving, that he needs to make it on his own. Every time, hope sparks in the pit inside his chest, and every time, he still feels the phantom pain, the cold bathroom tiles beneath his cheeks, the brutal loneliness high in his throat.

Robin comes back, and it takes him two days to tell her, but when he finally does, she simply hugs him, saying, “It’s fair enough if you don’t want to get hurt again.”

Steve’s not sure if it is about it being worth it, really. Eddie’s worth the world, is worth the risk and the hurt and all those years that Steve has been walking around with a hole inside his chest that has only started to close recently.

He still can’t pick up the phone, the mere idea of Eddie’s voice a warning twist of the scalpel, each and every time.

---

They don’t talk to each other for three months. Steve would love to say that it becomes easier after that first week; it proves the point of his serrated fear, at least, that it doesn’t, so he wins either way.

Except, all of it feels like losing.  All of it feels like 1987 all over, except that this time, Steve can’t even blame it all on Eddie, can’t even rant and rant and rant to Robin about how Eddie’s an asshole and have her agree while she holds his hair as he’s throwing up his heart at 5 am.

Steve’s caught between past and future, and meanwhile, the present is slipping him by. He goes to work, does his chores, goes through the motions. He goes running, long, grueling runs up and down Colorado Spring’s hills until his legs shake because it’s the only thing bar drugs that shuts up his brain for a couple of moments.

He avoids all the places that he knows Eddie frequents, as well as the ones that Eddie knows he usually searches out. It feels like 1987 but flipped on its head. Steve hasn’t been this miserable since— well.

1987.

Winter melts into Spring again. He remembers, ‘God, you know, I used to have such a crush on you, back in ‘86.’ He remembers nights spent on the floor of Eddie’s living room, the way Eddie still talks with his hands when animated but how it is missing the anxious edge, these days. How he’s still passionate about music and DnD and the frankly ludicrous number of books littering his apartment, but how he listens now, too, when Steve talks, instead of drifting off into his own head, helpless.

He thinks of the past and of changing, of the embers of anger he has carried for almost a decade. Thinks that he hasn’t been a coward for longer than that, and that they deserve—

Well, either they deserve one last chance, or he finally deserves closure.

More or less exactly one year after he fled Eddie’s flat for the first time, he rings the doorbell, bottle of whiskey in hand and heart in his throat. As he waits, he prays and prays and prays that they haven’t finally fucked it up for good.

---

Eddie looks surprised for all of three seconds before his expression gentles into something softer. “Steve. Hey.”

“Can I come in?”

There is a fraction of hesitation, Eddie’s eyes flickering from Steve’s face to the bottle of whiskey; it’s just long enough for a spike of doubt, but then Eddie nods and steps aside.

The silence as they walk into the kitchen is awkward, but less stifling than Steve would have expected. He waits until Eddie nods at one of the chairs, a wordless question, and they both settle at the table. It takes a lot of effort to keep from proposing a few rounds of shots first, from throwing over all his carefully laid-out speeches and ask questions instead—like, why did you let me in, why aren’t you angry, why haven’t you called if you aren’t?

Apologies have never been Steve’s strongest suit, but he still does none of those things. He straightens his spine instead and looks straight at Eddie when he says, “I’m sorry, I’ve been an asshole on—and since—New Year.”

Eddie’s lips twitch as if any of this is funny. “Yeah, you were. You needed time, though; I get it.”

That… is not how this script is supposed to go. Steve frowns and traces the lines in the wood of the table. “Is that what you think, is that what I needed? I was just…”

If he’d hoped that Eddie would fill in the blanks for him, he’d be sorely disappointed. Eddie simply keeps watching him, calm for once in his life. Like he knows, but wants Steve to say it, anyway.

Which, honestly, is a very Eddie thing to do, in its own kind of way. Then again, jumping head-first is Steve’s, and to hell with all the carefully crafted speeches and measured revelations. They had more than enough time, and Steve wants—Steve wants. All or nothing.

So he jumps.

“I’m still—I’m still as stupidly in love with you as I was at twenty fucking years old. Or maybe not still but rather again; it’s honestly a little hard to tell, sometimes. But I can’t—I can’t do this again, not. Not watching you leave. Not losing you again. And frankly, I’m not…” He exhales; swallows the fear and the hunger and the burning ache, and says, “I’m terrified we’ll fuck it up. That I’ll fuck it up—hell, I almost did, and we haven’t even had a chance—“

He jumps when Eddie touches the back of his hand, the light brush of fingertips like a burning match to spilled kerosene.

“Only you would be afraid to be the one to fuck it up after I was the one who ran away the first time.”

“That was nine years ago, though, this is—“

“Steve.” It’s the full-stop kind of way he says it, brown eyes dark with something that locks the protest behind Steve’s teeth.

He watches as Eddie gets up, walking around the table to kneel on the floor in front of Steve. Under different circumstances, the image might have sent his mind straight to the gutter; right now, with the way Eddie looks at him, all he can think of is kneeling on the church pew as a child, Sunday mass still an occasion his parents insisted on. Of staring up at the mahogany cross above the altar, and how small he’d felt, in the face of something so massive. How he’d hoped regardless, each Sunday, hands folded, that the one thing he kept asking for may be granted.

Love, love, love; Steve Harrington’s biggest, worst-kept secret has always been that insatiable greed for feeling, just once, like he could be worthy of it, too.

And now here Eddie is, kneeling at his feet.

He touches two fingers to the curve of Eddie’s jaw, where the scars still curl; a mirror of the earlier touch, and he wonders if Eddie feels it too, the firestorm beneath his skin. “You agreed that I’ve been an asshole.”

Eddie shrugs. “I waited, though, didn’t I? I needed time back then too, and I regretted leaving as I did within half a year. I just didn’t have the courage to come back.”

If Eddie’s first confession had felt like a car crash, this feels like the aftermath; like getting scraped off the tarmac, band-aids in every color stuck to savage wounds.

When Steve speaks next, his voice is rough. “What if I didn’t have the courage?”

“I knew you would.”

“That’s confident of you.”

“Or perhaps, I just know that you’re the bravest—as well as the most stubborn—idiot I’ve ever met,” Eddie says, and there is so much godforsaken affection ringing through his vowels that Steve almost chokes on how it floods the cavity inside his chest.

“Doesn’t mean I’m not an asshole, sometimes,” he says, because it feels dangerous, all that trust and certainty.

Eddie grins, almost pleased, and tugs at him until Steve huffs as if to prove the point and slides from the chair, kneeling on Eddie’s kitchen floor.

“Look at me,” Eddie says, as if Steve does anything else whenever he’s around.

 Eddie slides his hands around Steve’s jaw, though, as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. Holds Steve’s gaze, and says, “I’m not going to leave again, alright? I’ve waited three months for you, but if you need me to, I’ll wait again. I’d wait each and every day for eight years, too, if that is the amount of time you’ll need. Granted, I’ll complain about it the entire time, and either you or Robin might murder me a year in, which would be a shame, but I’d wait. I’m not going anywhere.”

Steve’s throat burns, and he knows that if he uncurled his hands from where they found Eddie’s wrists, he’d find them shaking.

Steve believes him, though, is the thing; thinks of the sheer unlikeliness of them ever running into each other again after 1987, and about Eddie’s confession. About how they’ve been hurling towards this for so much longer than either of them could have known, and how, although he has long since stopped believing in Gods and fate and meant-to-be, the things Eddie makes him feel are the closest Steve has come to devotion in years.

So on a random Tuesday night in March, Steve kisses Eddie on the hardwood kitchen floor, for the first time since he thought of it, back then with a broken bottle pressed to his jugular.

It’s not as seismic as that particular night. It’s more like something softly clicking into place, like there is familiarity to the warmth of Eddie’s breath against his skin, to sliding his fingers into Eddie’s hair, tilting his head to deepen the kiss.

He licks into Eddie’s mouth and swallows the noise he makes in response, something to tug away beneath his breastbone—a new collection of things with Eddie’s name scrawled all over them. One less like a museum, and more like an exhibition in progress.

It’s like lighting a candle at the altar every Sunday, make a wish, believe it will come true; or maybe it’s the aftermath, the one Steve waited this long for. No candles, no tolling bells, but a wish coming true when Eddie laughs against his mouth, breathless and unsteady and so fucking happy that he glows.

“You know, I might have lied a little,” Eddie says, trailing his mouth over Steve’s jaw, across his cheekbone, until he can rest their temples together. “I didn’t actually have a crush on you in ’86. At least not only in ‘86.”

Steve’s brain isn’t working well enough for this. “What are you talking about?”

Eddie sighs, all over-dramatic theatrics, and tugs at a strand of Steve’s hair. “If you must know—“

“You’re the one who started talking—“

“If you must know. I had a crush on you long before ‘86. It’s just the year where it became so unbearable, not even I could ignore it any longer.”

Steve pulls back to look at him. “Now I know you’re full of shit, there’s no way—“

Eddie scoffs, but it mixes with laughter. “Christ, you really have no idea. Steve Harrington, you were a menace to every poor soul who was unfortunate enough to be attracted to men and living in godforsaken Hawkins in the ‘80s. And you better not let that get to your head, or I swear—“

Steve kisses him again, can’t help it, really, his chest threatening to crack open with the ridiculous amount of love that’s beating inside of it.

“And now I’m all yours,” he says, a vow against Eddie’s soft mouth. “Not on your goddamn kitchen floor, though.”

Eddie’s grin is bright enough to light up the entire room. “Still royalty at heart, I see.”

His knees crack when he stands up, though; Steve considers it his first big proclamation of love that he’s not making the obvious joke, here.

If the look Eddie levels at him is anything to go by, he knows it too, and what else is Steve supposed to do but pull him close, wrap his arms around Eddie’s waist to kiss him, again and again. To say, “At least not for the first time; I’m sure we’ll get around the flat eventually,” and swallow Eddie’s delight like honey.

After all, they have all the time in the world; Steve’s not going to let go again.

[justagalwhowrites]

Halcyon - Prologue: Prom Night

Your best friend, Joel Miller, takes you to prom. The first chapter of Halcyon, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 3.7K

AO3

A/N: This fic is a modern no outbreak AU fic. All but this chapter will be set in 2022/2023

Austin, Texas 

May, 2008

“I can’t believe you still have the keys to the press box!” 

“Shhhh!” You hissed at your best friend as you climbed the stairs to the top of the stadium, the bottom of your blue satin prom dress clutched up around your thighs so you wouldn’t trip. “Just announce it so the whole school can hear why don’t you.”

“No one is over here,” you heard him roll his eyes. “Everyone is still at the dance there’s no one here to hear me. I just can’t believe golden girl Goldie didn’t return the keys…” 

“Shove it.” 

“Stealin’ shit,” he teased. 

“Joel…” 

“This is probably breaking and entering, you know,” he said cheerfully. “They can try us both as adults now since you caught up…” 

“Fuck you, Miller.” 

“Awfully adult language comin’ from that smart mouth…” 

You rounded on him, taller than him for a change from your perch a few steps ahead.

“Didn’t you just say they could try us both as adults now that I’m 18, too?” You raised your eyebrows at him. He rolled his eyes. “Pretty sure that means I can swear. And if you’re not careful and I’ll shove you down these stairs…” 

Joel scoffed. 

“They’d try you as an adult for that, too.” 

“Not once I testify about how annoying you are they won’t.”

He scoffed again. You turned back around and kept climbing the stairs. 

“This view had better be worth it is all I’m saying,” he said, sounding short of breath. 

“Oh quit your bitchin’,” you replied, hoping you didn’t sound breathless, too. “Which one of us is in heels?” 

“Yeah, yeah.” 

You made it to the top of the stadium and dropped the hem of your dress before selecting the large, utilitarian key from the keyring in your clutch, letting yourselves in. 

The press box was dark and so was the field below. You gathered your dress again and made your way to the windows, the city lights beyond casting the desk against the glass in a warm glow. 

“Damn,” Joel whispered, coming up alongside you and looking out at the view of the city. 

“Told you,” you said, smug. But you were awed, too.

From here, you could see the Capitol all but glowing in the distance, the skyscrapers lit up along the Colorado River beyond, the UT tower standing tall. 

“Never seen it without the stadium lights on,” you said quietly, looking out at the city. “Wanted to experience it at least once before I left.” 

“See why,” Joel said, serious for a change. You could feel his eyes on you. “Can’t deny that view.” 

You felt your cheeks get hot for a moment and Joel cleared his throat. 

“So,” his teasing tone was back. “Could you even tell it was me playing from up here?” 

“Oh sure,” you smirked, glancing at him for a second before pointing at the sideline. “You always rode the bench right there on the end…” 

“Shut the fuck up,” he elbowed you lightly and you laughed. 

“No, I could tell it was you,” you smiled up at him before looking back out at the field. He’d gotten so much taller since you’d first met him, shooting up half a foot over the span of a few months after you became friends in the first place. “Always head and shoulders taller than all the other jocks out there, spaghetti noodles for arms… Also the fact that you have a number on your shirt helped, you dork.” 

He snorted and you looked back over at him again, the way the light fell on his skin. It was almost like he was glowing, too, like he was made up of everything on the horizon in front of you. He turned to look at you, smirking. 

“Wanna drink?” 

The two of you perched on the desk against the glass, facing out toward the city. You bunched the restrictive skirt around the top your thighs so you could actually move and Joel loosened his tie and unbuttoned the collar of his crisp white dress shirt before reaching into the pocket of his suit coat. He pulled out a flask wrapped in worn leather, the name Miller elegantly stamped into the front of it, and offered it to you. 

“Fancy shit,” you said, taking it from him. You took a swig, cheap rum burning as it went down. You handed it back to him. “Where’d you get it?” 

“It was my dad’s,” he said, looking at it for a second, his eyes tracing over the lettering before taking a drink himself. He flinched as it went down. “So was the rum, actually. Not sure what I’m gonna do once we burn through it all, my mom never buys the shit. Lucky for me that means she never checks it, either…” 

You laughed a little. He held the flask back out. You took it. 

“Yeah, that would not work in my house,” you said, taking a sip. “Even when we were living with my dad, my mom watched that shit like a hawk. Never had a chance. Now it’s just not allowed under her roof. That’ll be one perk to college, I suppose. Don’t have to dodge him and don’t have to hide the beer from her.” 

You passed it back. He took it and took a sip before he wrapped his arms around his knees in front of him and sighed. 

“So you’re really leavin’ huh?” He asked, looking over at you. 

“Yup,” you nodded. “Getting the fuck out of this damn place.” 

“So sorry to be such a let down,” he teased, but there was a hint of hurt in his voice. 

“Hey,” you looked over at him. “You know you’re the only thing I have here that makes life worth living, right?” 

“You’re just sayin’ that because I was willing to be your back up prom date,” he smirked. You rolled your eyes. 

You weren’t joking when you said that. Joel was, easily, the best thing in your life. The only thing you’d really miss when you moved away to go to college. 

When you’d moved across the city just before your sophomore year of high school, you’d expected it to be hell and you’d been right. The school you transferred to was cliquey and close knit. Everyone had known each other all their lives, they had their own groups and ways of doing things and you were an outsider, an interloper. 

Which would have been fine if they’d have just let you keep to yourself, but they weren’t content with that, either. One of the guys at school grabbed your ass as you stood at your locker your second day of class and a friend of his girlfriend saw it. The girlfriend decided it was far better to hate you, the new girl, than actually confront her shit head boyfriend and you were suddenly stuck bearing the brunt of her toxic relationship’s misery. 

That’s how you’d met Joel. This girl - fucking Hannah - had sicced her older brother and his friends on you. They had you pinned down against a stadium wall, your heart in your throat as you clutched your diary to your chest. 

“Like tryin’ to take shit that ain’t yours?” The biggest boy - more man, really - said as he crowded in toward you. “Maybe I should…” 

“Hey!” 

The new voice was surprisingly deep, you half expected a teacher to come running over. Instead it was a boy about your age, baby fat still on his stomach and cheeks, his curls messy. But he didn’t move like a teenaged boy, he moved like a grown man who knew how to bend the world to his will. The others seemed to recognize it, parting like water, giving him a clear path to you. 

“The fuck you doin’, Young?” He demanded. “Threatening some girl?” 

“Fuck off, Miller,” he snapped. “Not you business.” 

“Makin’ it my business,” the newcomer positioned himself in front of you. The first boy had a few inches on him and plenty of muscle but it didn’t seem to bother him. “Happy to make punching your fuckin’ face my business, too.” 

“You think just because…” 

“Think coach’ll let you play Friday if he finds out you were gonna hit a girl?” The boy cut him off. “Heard UT is already scoutin’, don’t think they’ll be interested in some jackass ridin’ the bench.” 

The older boy glowered at him but, eventually, looked over him to you. 

“Keep your hands off my sister’s boyfriend.”

You didn’t bother to fight him on the specifics of what happened. You weren’t sure you were able to speak to do it, anyway. Instead, you just nodded and clutched your diary tight to you. He nodded once, face stern, and stalked off with his posse, leaving just you and the other boy. He waited until he knew they were gone to turn to face you. 

“You OK?” He asked, looking you up and down. You just nodded again. “Good. You really go after Hannah Young’s boyfriend?” 

“No!” You said, your ability to speak almost surprising you. “I’m not going after anyone’s anything, he just grabbed my ass yesterday in the hall and…” 

The boy laughed. 

“I’m fucking with you, Goldie,” he smiled. “No one in their right mind would go after him. Bryce is a jackass and Hannah’s a dumbass. They’re a match made in heaven. I’m Joel.” 

You frowned. 

“Nice to meet you,” you said. “But my name isn’t Goldie…” 

“Be a hell of a coincidence if it was,” he smirked and nodded at your diary, the cover gold glitter with an elastic loop holding a matching pen. “But sure seems like you like the color well enough.” 

You looked down at the diary, your prized possession, the one thing that kept you sane. You wrote in it constantly, everything from your thoughts to what happened to you during the day to ideas for stories to poems. You filled up the notebooks that slipped into the gold cover in a matter of weeks, had stacks and stacks of them sitting in your closet at home. It had been the one thing you’d made sure you packed when leaving your dad’s house. 

You looked back at Joel and gave him your name and he nodded, like he was considering it, trying to figure out if it suited you. 

“You’re new,” Joel said after he’d apparently decided about your name. “Freshman?” 

“Sophomore,” you said. “Just moved.” 

“Me too!” He said, sounding a little excited. “Well, not just, we got here about 2 years ago now but feels like just. Everyone here has known each other since they were fuckin’ born. You get used to it.” 

Joel showed you how to get into the stands even when the main gates were locked and sat with you, telling you the basics about the school, figuring out that you’d moved into an apartment complex that was only about a five minute walk from his house, learning that you both were excited about the new Curtis and Viper movie coming out in a few weeks. 

“Have you watched the director’s commentary for the third one?” You asked. “It’s like that man thought they were making the next Citizen Kane, it’s hilarious…” 

“Miller!” 

Joel’s head snapped around to the field where a bunch of other boys in uniform were flooding out of the locker room and onto the turf. 

“You just itchin’ to go on tour?” 

“No Coach!” Joel said. 

“Then get your ass dressed!” The man yelled. “Move it!” 

Joel jumped up and waited for the coach to turn his back before turning back to you. 

“What’s on tour mean?” You frowned. Joel laughed. 

“He means runnin’ all the stairs in the stadium. His favorite punishment. If you wanna hang out for a bit, I can give you a ride after practice. I technically don’t have my license yet but I’m turning 16 in a few weeks and I already saved up for my truck and my mom’s so busy she’s just happy she doesn’t need to haul my ass around anymore.” 

“Yeah,” you smiled. “Yeah, that would be great. Thank you.” 

“Cool,” he smiled back. 

“Miller!” 

Joel flinched. 

“Yeah, I gotta move my ass or it’s gonna get chewed out. But I’ll see you in a bit, Goldie!” 

You watched him jump the railing at the base of the stands onto the track below, making you gasp and scramble to your feet to see if he was alright. But Joel was already jogging into the locker room when you made it to the end of the bleachers, like what he’d done was nothing at all. 

The two of you had been inseparable ever since. He dropped you off that night and, the next morning, you opened your front door to find him there, playing his steering wheel like a snare drum with his fingers, like the plan had always been to pick you up and drive you to school. Even when you started working at the school paper and Joel made it to the first string of the football team you saw each other every day. You didn’t knock when you came to his house, you just let yourself in, his mom calling you Dorada - golden in Spanish - and telling Joel to listen when you tried to get him to study. Your little sister, Anna, had Joel wrapped around her finger to the point that he had a stash of fun sized candy bars in his locker that he’d raid before coming to your apartment so he had one to present to her. 

Even when you started dating Steven, your now ex-boyfriend, you saw Joel all the time. Steven never seemed to like him much but, to his credit, didn’t seem threatened by Joel. 

Which made sense. You knew better than to think Joel was interested in you that way. You were certain he saw you like a sister, like family. You weren’t someone he could look at and want. He was Joel Miller. He was handsome and funny and scored the winning touchdown in the playoff game that sent your school to the final. Boys like that weren’t interested in the girls who spent all their spare time with their nose in a book and tracked the GPAs of the other top students in the class to know where she fell in the fight for valedictorian. You were lucky he was friends with you at all. It didn’t matter how you felt about him, you weren’t about to press your luck. 

But when Steven dumped you two weeks before prom and you showed up outside Joel’s last class with eyes that were red from tears, he jumped up, grabbed his backpack and just gave his teacher a wave before slinging his arm over your shoulder and guiding you to his truck. 

“You know what’s so stupid?” You sniffed, perched on the gate of his truck as you poked at the Blizzard you’d gotten at Dairy Queen but couldn’t bring yourself to eat much of. “I think I’m more upset about the fact that now I can’t go to prom and I got the best dress for it. I know it’s insane but I was going to actually look kinda hot and I’ve never gone to a dance with a guy and…” 

“Why can’t you go to prom?” Joel frowned, reaching his long, red spoon into your ice cream cup. You rolled your eyes and tilted it his direction. 

“Because you can’t go by yourself,” you said. “That’s pathetic. Especially not when you just got dumped.” 

“I’ll go with you,” Joel shrugged. “My mom keeps sayin’ that she thinks I could wear some of my dad’s old shit now, he had at least one suit.” 

“I’m not about to ask you to cramp your style with the ladies by being my prom date,” you rolled your eyes. Joel had gone out on at least one date with every hot girl in your year and a few of the junior and sophomore girls, too. The longest anyone had lasted was Carly Smith, who held the prestigious title of Joel Miller’s almost girlfriend for 10 days and the three class periods before lunch when he told her he wasn’t interested before asking you if you wanted to run to Whataburger. 

He scoffed. 

“Not interested in any of them,” he said. “Setting my sights a little higher these days.” 

“College girls?” You teased. 

He laughed, reaching his spoon over for your ice cream again. You tilted it in his direction and shook your head a little as you did. 

“Somethin’ like that,” he said. “C’mon. Let me take you. It’ll be fun and you can still wear the fancy dress.” 

You ate another bite of your Blizzard, thinking for a second as you sucked on the spoon, the plastic edges sharp on your tongue. 

“Alright Miller,” you said eventually. “Let’s do this thing. You and me at prom.” 

“Gonna be fun, Goldie,” he said. “Promise.” 

He was right. It had been fun. Really, really fun. Honestly, way more fun than you’d ever have with Steven, anyway. Joel picked you up in his suit that was a little big around the middle but actually fit his broad shoulders and long legs. He’d gotten his truck washed and he’d even vacuumed the inside and he came to your door with a corsage in a box that was still cool from being kept in his fridge until he came to get you. Your mom took pictures of the two of you together and you hoped you didn’t look as stupid as you felt when you posed with your hand on Joel’s chest, tucked against his side like a real date while your heart was beating so fast it felt like it was threatening to burst from your ribs. Your dress was long and sleek and fit you just right, highlighting the womanly curves you’d grown into through your teenaged years. Your mom styled your hair so that it was elegant but still framed your face just so and you spent an hour working on your makeup. 

“Steven is gonna feel like a total fucking dumbass,” Joel said as he drove you to the hotel near campus where prom was being held. “You weren’t kidding about that dress.” 

You laughed. 

“You clean up pretty good yourself,” you said and he winked at you, making your heart flutter. 

The two of you danced and laughed and you took silly pictures next to the over the top decorations with the disposable camera you’d bought just for the occasion. 

But as prom wound down, Joel talked you into slow dancing with him, his hands warm and soft besides the callus he had from playing guitar and football on your exposed back. You had to fight to stay focused on the fact that it was Joel. He was your best friend, not your boyfriend. He was slow dancing with you because that was the nice thing to do when you took someone to prom, not because he was interested in you. Even though his eyes were on yours in a way that didn’t feel like was just to be nice and the way his fingers sank into your skin made it seem like it was more than just being nice. 

“Wanna get out of here?” He asked quietly as the song wound down. 

You tried to think of a place you could go that wouldn’t just be his truck or wouldn’t involve the two of you humoring Anna or his little brother, Tommy. For some reason, you wanted to be with just Joel. 

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Think I know a place.” 

You looked at the Capitol dome in the distance, the soft glow of it, and sighed. 

“You don’t have to leave, you know,” Joel said quietly after a moment. “Could just go to UT. Shit, we could even be roommates, I’ve already got a job lined up…” 

“If I stay I’m just going to get swallowed up by my mom’s needs and Anna’s and my dad is going to keep trying to fuck everything up…” you sighed. “And do you really think you’re going to move out? Or are you going to end up basically living at home so you can help your mom with Tommy?” 

“I’d move out if it was with you,” he said.  

You scoffed. 

“Sure you would,” you said, incredulous. “Joel, I love you, but we both know you’d be right back at home the second Tommy acted out at school again.” 

Joel sighed. 

“He’ll get his shit together eventually,” he said. “It won’t be forever. Stay.” 

“I can’t just be in one place my whole life,” you said softly, looking over at him. “I need to try to be someone somewhere that isn’t here.” 

He sighed heavily.

“I know,” he took another drink. You scooted closer to him and rested your head on his shoulder, taking a deep breath as you just looked out the window a bit longer. 

“I don’t know what I’m going to do without you,” you said softly after a few minutes. 

“You’ll be fine,” he waved you off. “You’re the smart one, the one with the real skills and shit. You were always going to do great things, Goldie. Just liked being close enough to you to see you do it.” 

You tilted your head just enough to see that he was looking at you, watching you, his brown eyes glistening in the hazy light of the city. You realized, suddenly, that you were close to him. Very close, so close that your nose brushed his cheek when you lifted your head from his shoulder, your eyes still on his. Your heart was pounding. 

“Joel…” you breathed. 

Your heart kept pounding as your best friend kissed you. It didn’t stop pounding for a while.

A/N: Welcome to Halcyon! This is a totally different kind of Joel Miller and I'm so excited to share him - and Goldie - with you all.

You can expect weekly updates as we watch these two try to navigate all the curve balls life throws their way.

Thank you thank you thank you for being here! Follow my updates account here and subscribe to get alerts when new chapters are posted.

I can't wait to go on this adventure with you all. Love you!!

[baronessvonglitter]

Cherry, Cherry 🍒 Chapter 8 🍒 "Fooled Around and Fell in Love"

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

Word count: 1,807

Summary: a mini getaway brings you closer to Joel, and you reach a new level of your budding relationship.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, age gap (reader is 18, Joel is 35), adult language, brief mention of someone unaliving herself (told in a local legendary tale), breast/nipple play, thigh riding, hand job, mutual confessions of love, reader's race not mentioned, takes place in summer 2003, no use of y/n

Author’s Note: I admit I don't know much about the terrain of Austin that well, but Mount Bonnell is real as is the Colorado River, so any mistakes are my own and purely for fictional purposes anyway. The legend that Joel tells the reader is very loosely based on a story my grandfather told me when I was a kid. I once went on a date with a guy who took me to a cemetery because he thought it was a romantic place, and that gave me the idea for Joel telling that downer story lol. If I missed any tags please let me know!

Series Masterlist

You're on cloud fucking nine.

No one has ever made you feel this way, as if you're brand-new, abundant with promise, with new chances. The little moments you spend with Joel are marked upon your young heart. And you do spend little moments together: he comes by the cafe for coffee before work or after, and the times you hang out with Sarah at the Miller house, you find that Joel hangs out as well, adding himself as an awkward part of the group, until Sarah asks him to leave. You have to hide your smile when he leaves, or risk your secret being blown.

One late Saturday afternoon he picks you up from work in his truck. It's a June night in the Texas hill country, and the sun sets its last golden rays of the day down upon the deep green hills on the horizon. The windows are down, radio blasting Neil Diamond tunes, especially since Joel has turned you on to his music. One of his hands is on the steering wheel and the other is in your lap. You trace the lines in the roughness of his palms, trace each broad finger, wonderingly, and when you look up you see the effect you have on him. Joel is turned on by any little way you touch him.

"Where are we going?" you ask, though honestly you could be driving to Hell itself and it would be just fine with you.

"Just wanna be alone with you for a little bit, sweetheart. Is that okay?" He looks over at you and you know you can't resist those deep brown eyes, the way the lines around them crinkle when he smiles.

"Fuck yeah," you grin, eliciting a wide smile from him.

He drives you up to Mount Bonnell, where you've never been, and your heart gallops to think that you're finally going to be alone with him. He drives you about halfway then insists on hiking the rest of the way.

"Joel, I've been on my feet all day," you pretend to pout at his suggestion.

"I'll carry you if I have to," he says with a wicked gleam in his eye. "But I do want you to see the view from up there." He offers his hand and you take it without delay.

Even though there's almost a twenty year age difference between you, you notice that Joel is quite agile, but you keep up with him, laughing at the freedom of the moment. His hand rests on your lower back when you slow down, and brings you close to his side, stopping for you to have a drink of water. "The view will be worth it, I promise," he says in that deep drawl you love so much.

And when you do reach the top, wiping the sweat from your forehead with your arm, the view takes your breath away. The evening sky is azure, with pink and violet cotton candy clouds stretching to infinity, and the earth touched with tinges of tangerine. Below, the Colorado River flows serenely. You and Joel stare in wonder: you watch the view and he watches you. His hand is in yours, and he pulls you close for an embrace. "It's gorgeous," you say at last.

"Not as gorgeous as you," he says with a twinkle in his eye. He leads you to sit upon a rock in the shade of an oak tree. "There's a legend about this place, that in the 1830s there was a young woman who leapt to her death to avoid being captured by men who'd killed her fiance."

You raise your head from where you'd been leaning on his shoulder. "That's actually pretty sad."

He nods solemnly. "Yeah.. I maybe should've saved that story for later."

You giggle and elbow him. "You really know how to ruin a romantic mood, old-timer."

"So you admit you're having a romantic time?" He brings his lips to your ear.

"I was," you retort.

"How can I remedy that?"

"Ten grand would do it, for my mental anguish," you continue the banter.

"Your check's in the mail," he says, his lips now on the soft part of your neck below your ear.

You let his kisses travel down your neck, giggling lightly at ticklish feel of his mustache on your sensitive skin. His hands wander across your chest, gently lifting your shirt to find the satin-smooth cups of your bra. Your breath hitches and your eyes flutter shut despite the stunning view before you. His fingers dip beneath your bra, his thumb grazing your nipples, softly teasing them to hardness. When you sigh he catches your lips in a kiss, his tongue tasting your mouth as your arms wrap around his neck. Your hand encourages his own under your shirt, and he squeezes your breast, eliciting a moan from your sweet lips.

A sudden rainstorm sweeps through, starting to soak both of you.

"Truck," you say breathlessly, both of you scrambling to your feet to get back to the vehicle. You shriek when he lifts you up, your legs wrapped around his waist as he brings you to the truck. Once inside, you're both wet, but you don't care, reaching for each other again in the dry safety of the truck that's become your only getaway for your secret romance.

In a blur of lust you take off your damp shirt, reveling in the carnivorous look on Joel's face. Next come off your shorts, and Joel's breathing becomes all but labored. Just in your panties and bra you kiss him, slowly, savoring his taste as his hands grip your waist. "I need you," you moan, and the excitement between you becomes electric. You climb onto his lap, writhing against him.

The rain beats down on the truck as the two of you discover each other, tasting the raindrops on each others' skin. Joel's shirt is off, his jeans pulled down. "There's something I want ya to do for me," he says.

A thousand thoughts come to mind. It could be anything. "And that would be..?"

"Take off your panties. I want to feel you, hot and wet on my thigh while I suck your nipples."

He has a way of saying things that make your insides light up, your cunt clenching as if he's already in there.

He holds you close, his large hands roaming your waist and your hips. "Is that okay?"

"Yeah," you whisper. Keeping your eyes on him you remove your panties, sliding the fabric down your legs, tossing them to the floor of the truck. His hungry gaze goes to the V where your thighs meet, and he guides you to his thigh, groaning when your hot wet cunt settles on his skin. You feel why he would like this, and begin to move a little to ease the ache he's built up in you. He lets you do as you wish, whatever makes you feel good.

"That's good," he whispers his seductive encouragement. "Just rub yourself on me, sweetheart. Fuck yourself on me."

Your eyes close and with your arms around his neck you move, seeking that friction on your clit that will make you see stars. And just as you get into a nice rhythm Joel reaches behind you and deftly removes your bra, gently moving the straps down your arms as you drop them to your sides. When he uncovers your breasts his breath hitches. He cups them in both his wide palms, rubbing his thumbs over your nipples as he did earlier, and bringing his lips to each puckered pebble, then lapping his tongue over one while softly tweaking the other, testing your limits, grazing your delicate flesh with his teeth. The faster you move the harder he pulls at you, his hands splayed on your back, keeping you pressed to him.

You palm him through his underwear, familiarizing his shape with your hands. His girth and length are intimidating, but in this moment you don't have to worry about taking him inside of you. Not yet. You stroke him as he removes himself from his briefs, loving the groans he makes, the way his cock seems to grow harder by the second, jerking under your touch. You use the beads of precum on his tip to lubricate him, caressing him with longer, stronger strokes.

The car windows fog up with the steam of your gasps and sighs. You grab at the back of his head, cradling it to you as he continues worshipping your breasts.

"Joel! Joel!" you whisper his name in a frenzy of euphoria, and then his thumb is on your clit, pressing gently, flicking, moving with you until you come, hips twitching as you convulse. At the same time you feel him come, his semen spilling over onto your hand, thick and warm. He smiles when he feels you've also left your own traces on his skin.

In those hazy moments after, you rest your head on his chest and he kisses your hair. The small space of the truck is scented with your musk and sweat. It's peaceful, and you feel closer to him than ever. Though you haven't technically had sex yet, you feel your innocence being chipped away at, and it's exciting. For the first time you're in control of what you do.

"You can't be real," he says, his voice breaking the silence that blankets you both. "You gotta be some fantasy that I dreamed up, or some kinda angel."

"I am. You died and this is heaven," you joke, kissing his neck.

You don't even hurry to get dressed. The rain has slowed to a drizzle but there's no rush for you to leave.

"You comin' over tonight? Thought maybe we could watch a movie.. you, me, and Sarah."

"Really? I'd like that." You love the sweetness he has after the intense passion you've just shared.

"I gotta drop you off at your car. Once I'm able to catch my breath, and once I've got feelin' back in my legs I'll drive you back."

You chuckle, kissing along his collarbone. "But what if I'm not done with you yet?" Oh, the scent of his skin drives you wild.

"Jesus, sweetheart," he chuckles low. "I think I love you.."

You look up quickly, your body buzzing with excitation, disbelief daring to poison the beautiful night you've just had. "You.. what?"

His eyes are soft as he cups your face, gently brushes your hair from your face. He studies every feature, committing everything to memory. "I. Love. You." He emphasizes each word with a kiss: on your forehead, nose, lips.

It's the first time you've ever heard it said to you, and the first time you've ever felt it right to say it back. "Joel Miller, I love you too.."

<- prev chapter

next chapter ->

divider by @saradika-graphics 👑

[wannab-urs]

The Spreadsheet Digest - Vol 22

Good lord y'all I am never doing a 2 week edition of the Spreadsheet ever again this is actually insane. Like this is the longest post I have ever made. There's like 35 fics on here :)

Anyway as always you can find the spreadsheet here and the masterlist of my recs (that is currently unupdated lol oops) here.

Recs below the Pedro!

Joel

Mothman Fever a one shot by @beskarandblasters

You meet a really hot guy at the Mothman Festival and almost hook up with him, then you meet him again at the Mothman Stakeout except this time he's not just Joel... he's MOTHMAN!!! This fic is so good. It's funny and hot and amazing. Lil element of sex pollen in there and ya know, my favorite, monsterfucking. Also the shirts reader wears had me hollerin'.

Deliver Me From Nowhere a series by @atinylittlepain

Joel got his sheep ranch in a sleepy Colorado town and decided to slow his life down finally. Delores comes speeding into it, literally, in desperate need of help. As of right now there's a prologue and chapter one out, but I've got a little insight into the full story, and just trust me. This fic is worth your time. It's soft, gentle, and sweet, but do not forget that Joel Miller is capable of so much violence. And he's a protector, a caretaker. I love the way the town feels like a character and the way Joel can't help but help her, and AGH. This fic, man.

No closer could I be to god a one shot by @proxima-writes

Okay so this is set in Jackson... you're the town preacher's wife and you are hooking up with Joel Miller. This fic is super hot. I fucking love infidelity fics and I love when there's a lil blaspemy and sacrilege in a fic and this is just such a good fucking example of that. And the ending is so good.

Guard Dog a one shot by @romana-after-dark

TW Dub con, but it's Joel not reader. Raider!Joel fucks with the wrong girl. Reader fucks Joel at gun point and like there's a gun blow job in there and he's so submissive and he's also obviously pretty into it? And then he's obviously very into it. This is was so unreasonably hot. Just like... oh my god? Joel on his knees and whimpering and begging to cum? Good dog…

Jizz Fingers a Joel (and others) series by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

This is probably my favorite crackfic ever. A splorgimum (alien boy) from another planet can shape shift into anything you want and has various other special space boi powers that make hooking up with him a really good time. This so funny, like you will probably cackle out loud and have to find a way to explain what you're laughing at, but ummmm it's also pretty hot. And I refuse to be ashamed of wanting to fuck amorphous blob boy turned HBO Joel Miller. I mean have you seen what those Jizz Fingers can do?

Not so tough now, is she a one shot by @walkintotheriveranddisappear

Your cute lil raider group gets taken over by Joel's much scarier one. He needs to show your group that you are no longer in charge, and he chooses to ruin any authority you could possibly have by fucking you in front of them. TW NONCON. This is depraved and hot and terrifying. I loved the different ways the men in the group reacted too, from boldly participating to obvious disgust. Really shines a light on the spectrum of human depravity oof.

Oblivion a one shot by @thesummerpetrichor

Your boyfriend's dad is a sweet older man who you go visit sometimes, bake him things, talk about photography... Your boyfriend cheats on you. So you cheat back and let the guy take pictures. He sends those pictures to your boyfriend's dad... and suddenly sweet old man Mr. Miller is not so sweet anymore. TW Dub con, you totally wanted Joel but this is not how you wanted him. This is really hot and a little scary and just FUCK Yes. This is so fucking good

Pillow Queen a one shot by @beskarandblasters

You watch a porn video while Joel is sleeping beside you. He wakes up while you’re watching it. You tell him you want to try that position and he calls you a pillow queen. You prove him wrong. One thing I love more than almost anything else is proving a man wrong lmao. This is so fucking hot it's unreal. That got rode within an inch of his life lmao

All I did was what I had to do a series by @corazondebeskar-reads

I'm not 100% sure why I read this because if someone pissed even in my general direction in real life I'd literally cut their dick off and feed it to them... anyway that is not how I feel about it in fic apparently. Your raider!Joel's little pet or whatever and a new recruit thinks he can make a pass at you. Joel pisses in your mouth right in front of him and then shoots the fucker in the dick. Then he makes it up to you with some overstimulation :)

truth or dare a one shot by @joelscruff

Mean scary neighbor Joel, fuck yes!!! Your friends dare you to "see how far you can get" with your neighbor Joel during a game of truth or dare. You go over there and end up locked in his garage. There's elements of TW DUBCON here, but also he does give you a brief opportunity to leave. This is brutal. He's rough and a little gross about it and it is so hoooottttttttt!!!! And then there's this bit with a flashlight.... anyway I also would ditch these friends since you literally disappear for god knows how long and they don't even bat an eyelash like???

Something wretched about this a series by @covetyou

This is gonna be a series, but so far I've only seen chapter one,,,, Wherein Joel is a drug dealer and you need pain meds for your dad who is very ill. He can't work so you don't have ration cards, but you need ration cards to buy pain meds so he can work to get ration cards. Viscious cycle. Thankfully, Joel is accepting other methods of payment. The main kink in this one is pussy spanking and is so delicious oh my god. Reader is shocked by how much she likes it, honestly I think Joel is shocked by how much she likes it.

Joel + Veracruz

A Lesson in Blackmailing a one shot by @gasolinerainbowpuddles  

No reader in this one! Just Joel domming comandante Veracruz and Veracruz liking it way more than he probably should. Joel is so fucking mean and Veracruz is a brat but he ends up just being a pathetic mess jacking himself off in an alley and I love every second of this.

Dave

Notes on Tutoring a series by @honestly-shite

Dave is your new music tutor and you are down real bad for him even though he's a major fucking asshole. You end up fucking him and then a lot of shit goes down and literally any other summary I can think of is full of spoilers. But this fic, y'all. Oh my god. The way Dave is characterized is so frustrating and so so good. It's perfect. Every detail that is slowly revealed about him is so perfect. The instrument(s) he plays, the music he likes, his background, where he's from, what went down before you met, all of it, is so perfect. The ending may possibly make you mad? But I liked it. I thought it made perfect sense for these two characters.

The Princess and the Duke a series by @theywhowriteandknowthings

Originally just Murder Daddy Kinktober Day 3 prompt "Daddy please" and then followed up with Kintober Day 4 prompt "Risk of getting caught," this is now a series so I'm reccing it as such. And FUCK it is hot. Dave is very much still Murder Daddy but he's so soft and sweet for reader... I mean he's still a scary and dominate motherfucker, but it's hot and the fucking tenderness and vulnerability he shows with reader has me fucking reeling dude.

Din

Taungsdays, am I right? a one shot by @theywhowriteandknowthings

You and Din get attacked by some sort of horny tentacle monster alien thing and it gives you both the fuck of your life, basically. The horny tentacle monster basically wants to fuck you both but also wants to you and Din to fuck. If you like tentacles and/or sex pollen and a lil m!receiving assplay, this fic is so for you. Also even though you didn't exactly consent to getting railed by a tentacle monster, you and Din love each other and are pretty sexually adventurous so it's a good time for everyone involved lol.

Bleed for me a series by @saradika

Din is the mand'alor and a vampire and you are his chosen one, the one he will keep to feed and fuck and whatever else... but you have a secret reason for even volunteering to be chosen in the first place... I'm obsessed with the world building, with the suspense, with the characterization. I'm in love with this fic UGH. It's so fucking good. Din is so hot and scary and perfect in every way. Reader is such a badass too like... girl that is a terrifying situation you have put yourself in. The plot twist is everything. I love thissss

A Place of Safety a series by The_InvisibleWoman (AO3)

Okay so you're a bounty and Din picks you up and he goes to take you in, actually does take you in, but something is just fucking off about the whole thing. And then there's a lil grogu situation, reclaiming the bounty and all that. He decides to try to find her somewhere safe to live and in the process he falls for you and you fall for him and it is so fucking sweet and beautiful and perfect and I love it so much. There are currently 34 chapters and it's ongoing and I am ravenous for this fic fr.

Whispers in the Dark a series by @kewwrites

TW NONCON!!! This is the darkest Din fic I've ever read. It's fucked up on so many levels, man. Read the warnings and be fucking careful because it's got probably 99% of all the triggers possible. Kew, baby, are you okay? That being said, I loved it. It didn't feel like it was glorifying Din's behavior or justifying it or anything. It was just a beautiful and painful representation of what a broken man is capable of and what it can mean for a person to be wrapped up in that with him. If you can handle it, you should read it. This one will stick with you

Frankie

A Fond Farewell a series by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

Angela has written something so beautiful and so painful. It's real, raw, and it fucking hurts. If you're looking for angst this is the fic for you lol. I really loved Frankie in this. I also really really adored Santi's character. This fic is gorgeous. It's one of those things where shit keeps getting in the way of something that should be easy and it makes you want to scream and cry and throw shit. It's also largely based on real events, which just makes it hurt a little more because Ang is my soul mate :')

Slumber a one shot by @write-and-buried

A filthy, lovely, consensual somno fic with a bit of squirting. Frankie is feral and he is so hot in this oh my god. I loved every single second of this fic. Frankie is so in love with you it's adorable and maybe a little gross. Which is just very Frankie. I've read this three times in 2 weeks.

Frankie + Tommy

Group Therapy a one shot by @beskarandblasters

we're pretending therapists don't have a code of ethics because holy shit this is hot. Frankie goes to therapy for his trauma and meets Tommy Miller (who says he looks just like his brother Joel). Frankie and Tommy both have their eyes set on one of the group's therapists. They ask you to go for a drink at the American Legion next door and it's not long at all before you've found a back room and then you fuck them both... Frankie is so soft and adorable through almost the whole thing and then he's fucking you and goes feral and it is so hot dude

Javi P

Drenched a one shot by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

Me and Ang had some brainrot about Javi P wherein we discussed the fact that we would let this man do things we have never let any man do before. This resulted in a beautifully wet fic where you get covered in spit and cum. And it is so hot.

Carmen: Darlin' Darlin' a series by @thesummerpetrichor

You're the ambassador's daughter and you get dragged to this weekend get away thing for the DEA and Javier Peña is there. What follows is flirting and teasing and getting fucked in public and it is amazing. I love the reader character so much. Fiesty little mean ass bitch that she is, she's just like me. This whole thing reeks of daddy issues, and again I say, she's just like me. This fic is so hot.

Video Games a one shot by @thesummerpetrichor

Yes, I did in fact read the whole masterlist, don't look at me. DADS BEST FRIEND JAVI P???? I have never read a dbf!javi, I'm pretty sure. This is so angsty and hot and perfect. The way they dance around each other for literal years (yeah I'm pretty sure that's grooming, but I don't think it was intentional... moving on) and then finally they just crash together and it is so hot. The way he talks you through it and he's so tender and soft and perfect fuck. It's like the Javi from those scenes with Helena or Elisa where that asshole exterior is gone and that overwhelming tenderness you know he has in him comes out and just UGH. Perfection.

Off to the races a one shot by @thesummerpetrichor

I told you. The whole masterlist. Anyway. In this one, you're a sociology student doing research at the embassy and you're relegated to the DEA offices where you go about making Javier's life a living hell. Eventually he caves and fucks you over his desk. And then it becomes a whole toxic thing that is just so perfectly Javi and I love it so much and also the smut is ungodly hot.

Murder Daddy Kinktober Day 5: Who Does This Belong To? a one shot by @theywhowriteandknowthings

dude... Javi kissed another girl and you want to remind him who he belongs to so you tie him up, get him all worked up, make him confess his sins, and then untie him and leave the apartment, where he is left to pathetically jack himself off and be ashamed of himself. FUCK this is so hot. I love bratty whimpering pathetic Javi.

Dieter

Candy a one shot by @secretelephanttattoo

Dieter takes you to a closed down carnival and you suck his dick in the house of mirrors and it is delicious. I'd like to go on random adventures with Dieter... *sigh*

Crumbs, sloppy seconds, and backwash a one shot by @chloeangelic

Dieter is not so great at the whole monogamy thing, and you know this. You're actually into this, which means you've gotten yourself into a toxic cycle of encouraging the behavior and then regretting it. I love how desperately they need each other and how much you can tell they care for each other. I really fucking love the ending. I love how it’s a bit toxic, but there’s little hints in there that Dieter is trying to be what she wants. AHHH I can't believe this is her first Dieter. 

Unwind a one shot by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

You have a terrible day and you start your period and it's just awful. Dieter takes care of you and it is the sweetest most lovely thing. So fluffy and perfect and wonderful ughhhh I love him so much.

Ghost in the sheets a one shot by @proxima-writes

As a lover of shitty paranormal investigation shows, this was fucking incredible. Dieter is such an annoying little shit in his somehow endearing way and I love him. I loved all the ghosty bits and the flirting and the bickering and AGH. I don't think I'd be down to fuck in a haunted attic irl, but maybe Dieter could convince me lol.

Max Phillips

Lust for a vampire a one shot by @idolatrybarbie

You're a bartender at a vampire themed strip club and after your shift the whole vampire thing gets a little too real. Max is so hot and he fucking turns you and it's so good FUCK. I love the freakiness of the location he takes you to also, really adds to the vibe.

A Real Challenge a one shot by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

Oh my god? Max making you wear a plug to work and then making you push it out and then fucking you in a conference room and then making you fucking leave the office in a very embarrassing way that I won't spoil. I'm panting.

Oberyn AND Max Phillips

a court of fangs and foxgloves a one shot by @psychedelic-ink

Oberyn is the lord of a vampire court and you were turned in order to serve him, but you left, uncomfortable with the bond formed when a vampire lord turns you. You regret this decision and come crawling back and Oberyn makes your life hell about it. He isn't exactly ready to forgive you, but instead of killing you for being an insolent little shit he fucks you and his other little pet Max about it. Well actually he fucks Max and Max fucks you... semantics. This is hot.

Maxwell Lord

Working Overtime a oneshot by @gasolinerainbowpuddles 

Dismantling internalized homophobia one rim job at a time! Maxwell doesn't think he'll like getting his lil ass ate out but oh boy is he wrong. And his jizz covered desk is pretty clear evidence of that.

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

I'm not even gonna rec my own fics because this is unreasonably long lmao.