#Buck Canyon | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hotshotsxyz · 2 months ago

Note

“ just… be honest with me, do you hate me? “ for Buddie

(buddie) (869 words) this prompt screams angst, which is. the exact opposite of what i did with it. whoops!

“You asshole,” Eddie says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We agreed—”

“I know, I know,” Buck says, “But just—trust me?”

Eddie sighs. “I’m going to break up with you one of these days,” he threatens.

“No you won’t,” Buck replies with a sunny grin.

He’s right, obviously, but he doesn’t have to be so smug about it. Eddie makes a noncommittal noise and climbs into the passenger seat of the Jeep.

“At least tell me where we’re going?” Eddie asks, not especially optimistic he’ll get an answer.

“Nope!”

Eddie groans. “I hate you, you know that?”

Buck snorts. “M’hm, sure, definitely seemed like you hated me this morning.”

“Yeah, well, see if I do that again any time soon,” Eddie snarks.

Buck laughs, loud and bright. It’s hard to summon even playful irritation in the face of Buck’s obvious joy, but Eddie’ll be damned if he doesn’t give it the ol’ college try.

They take a circuitous route out of LA and up through the canyons to Malibu. There’s a small farmers market on the way, one they’ve been to once or twice before, and Buck insists they stop for strawberries. Eddie insists on buying peach jam, mostly because he likes it and Buck doesn’t. Instead of rising to the bait, Buck swings by the bakery tent and grabs a loaf of sourdough to go with it. Dick.

“C’mon,” Buck says, once they’ve secured their purchases in a backpack that’s apparently been in the back the entire time. “We’re leaving the car here.”

“Oh, so you’re torturing me with physical activity for our anniversary, I guess that isn’t a gift after all,” Eddie says, just to be contrary. He loves hiking, and they both know it.

Buck rolls his eyes. “It’s a ten minute walk, fifteen tops. I won’t even make you carry anything.”

“My hero,” Eddie says, pressing a dramatic hand to his chest.

Buck locks the Jeep and bumps his shoulder against Eddie’s. “You coming?”

“Under duress,” he replies, but he’s pretty sure the grin on his face gives the game away.

True to Buck’s word, it takes just over ten minutes to reach their apparent destination. The path was entirely up hill, though, and Eddie makes sure to get some mileage out of that.

The view from the small overlook at the top, though, is pretty impossible to complain about. The ocean stretches out infinitely before them, brilliantly blue and glittering. It’s the kind of place where the rest of the world just… falls away.

Eddie loves it. Buck knows he loves it.

“Fine,” Eddie says, “You win. This is perfect.”

“Yeah?” Buck asks from behind him.

“You know it is,” Eddie says. He tears his eyes away from the horizon and—

Oh.

That’s—

Buck’s spread a large picnic blanket on the ground behind him, and it’s a ridiculous first thought to have, but sue him, Eddie’s feels like his brain is doing a hard reset, because—

Because—

Because Buck is on one knee and he’s got a small black ring box in his hand and his eyes are already shining and Eddie’s never loved someone the way he loves Buck.

“Eddie,” Buck says, and it’s just his name but the love and devotion in it takes away his breath.

“There’s not a lot I haven’t said to you,” Buck continues. “But you know me, I like to talk.”

Eddie nods vigorously, entirely incapable of forming words of his own.

“And there’s—there’s no one else in this world I want to spend the rest of my life talking to,” he says, huffing a small laugh at his own expense.

“Eds, you’re—you’re the sun,” he says, and Eddie doesn’t know how to tell him that can’t be true, because he’s already looking at the brightest light on the planet.

“You’ve been making everything better and brighter since the day we met. Getting to love you is—is the greatest privilege of my life, and I’m kind of hoping you’ll let me keep doing it forever.”

A small noise punches it’s way out of Eddie’s chest, and it’s only then that it occurs to him that he might need to breathe for the part he’s pretty sure is coming next.

“So, Eddie Diaz,” Buck says as the first of what Eddie’s sure will be many tears slips down his cheek, “will you marry me?”

Eddie drops to his knees and takes Buck’s face in his hands and brushes the tear away with his thumb. There are a hundred things he wants to say, but he still hasn’t managed to take that breath, and, really, only one of them is important right now.

A mischievous expression flashes across Buck’s face. “Just… be honest with me,” he says, a little smug, “do you hate me?”

“Yes,” Eddie finally gasps.

Buck jerks in surprise. “Yes?”

“No, not—yes I’ll marry you,” Eddie says in a rush.

“Oh,” Buck says with a grin. “Well, that’s a relief because—”

Eddie doesn’t let him finish. He crashes his lips against Buck’s. He kisses his fiancé. He’s not sure he knew it was possible to be this happy.

He can’t believe the asshole beat him to it. Eddie loves him so much.

#should i wait until the morning to post?#probably #will i?#no #thank you for the prompt anon i hope you like it!!#abbie answers #911 #buddie #fic #buddiefic #buddie fic #anon #abbie writes

301 notes · View notes

chadleys · 1 year ago

Note

for the sub-astarion fic, just do whatever you see fit but could you atleast sprinkle in a mommy kink with a side of biting kink pls 🙈🙈

›› pairing: astarion x f!reader

›› wordcount: 1k

›› genre: smut, sub!astarion, dom!reader

›› rating: 18+, mdni

›› synopsis: just astarion being the goodest boy, that's all.

›› warnings: mommy kink, biting kink, teasing handjob, d/s dynamics

you love having him like this, in your lap, pressed so close there’s barely any room to decipher between the two of you. which is how you like it, how you know things are meant to be. the two of you; halves of one whole.

you lean back against the rough bark of a cedar and astarion leans against you, his pretty back sealed to your chest with a thin layer of sweat. his scars brush your nipples with every movement.

before you is a canyon, dropping steeply down to the valley below, and the misty mountain range beyond. all of this illuminated in the silvery glow of a full moon, big and brash in the sky, daring you to look at it.

which there’s not a fat chance of.

astarion’s gaze is glued downward, between his legs, where your hands are cradling his swollen balls and stroking lazily at his hard, aching cock.

as for you, you can’t keep your eyes off the side of his beautiful face, your nose buried in his silver curls.

you kiss the nape of his neck, gently, teasing, and astarion’s entire body shudders against you, his grip going tight on your thighs. ❝ darling, ❞ he says, and the usual brash confidence in his voice is nowhere to be found, replaced by a wheedling whimper.

there’s no helping the giggle that climbs out of you, even as your cunt drips, soaking the blanket you laid out to shield yourselves from the dirt and grass.

❝ yes? ❞ you query, and your hand strokes meanly over the tip of his cock, precum slicking the way as you squeeze.

❝ gods, ❞ astarion gasps, going rigid in your arms. ❝ well. i was going to ask if … mm … if you’d deign to go any faster? please? ❞

he turns, trying to give you his best ‘ i’m a beautiful vampire and i always get my way ‘ look.

all you see, however, is the most desperate, wanton little thing you’ve ever laid eyes on. and he is perfect.

it’s almost enough to make you want to speed up, to milk him until he’s spilling all over your hands in record time.

almost.

another quiet laugh bubbles out of you, and you hook your chin over his shoulder to see exactly what you’re doing to him.

his cockhead is red and impossibly swollen, glistening in the moonlight. there was no need for any oil tonight; he’s wet as any woman.

❝ i take that as a no, ❞ he mutters, and his grip once more tightens on your legs as he starts to drive himself up, fucking your fist.

you tut, immediately releasing his cock, leaving it to twitch wetly against his abdomen, utterly disappointed.

astarion makes a beautiful, frustrated little noise, bucks once more, and laxes back against you.

with the tip of one finger, you tease the head of his cock, just underneath the frenulum, and are rewarded with a fresh flood of precum and astarion’s exasperated sigh.

❝ you can cum like this, or not at all. ❞

❝ i — ❞ he’s about to argue with you, glaring at you out of the corner of his darkened eyes.

you give him a stern look, and he must think better of it, gaze slowly slipping away.

you sigh. ❝ you’re always so eager to try and wrest control, my love. ❞ affectionately, to show him you aren’t upset with him, you rub your nose just below his ear as you purr, ❝ why can’t you just let me take control for once? to make you feel good? i know you’ll love leaning back and relinquishing control, showing me just what a good boy you can be. ❞

the words ‘ good ‘ and ‘ boy ‘ strung together have the most gorgeous effect on the vampire in your lap. he sighs and lists back, head thrown to one side. leaving you the perfect access to his long, pale throat.

no hesitation, you sink your teeth in.

astarion yelps and his cock twitches where you’ve grabbed hold of it again.

❝ mother, ❞ he admonishes, breathless. his gaze retrieves yours; he’s joking, but only somewhat.

you decide to play along. ❝ yes, my sweet darling boy? ❞

he sniffs, looking bashfully away. ❝ i’m supposed to be the bloodthirsty vampire around here . . . ❞

starting to slowly pump your hand on him again, you press your breasts harder into his back, so he can feel how hard your nipples really are. ❝ mm, guess what? right now, you’re just my good boy. ❞

a hitch of breath, astarion’s hips aching to just thrust up into your grip until he cums.

you shush him, keeping a steady, defiant pace with your hand.

the first sign of his impending climax is a tightening of his balls in the palm of your hand as you roll them gently. the second, his nails digging deliciously into the meat of your thighs as he starts to pant.

❝ love — ❞

❝ i know, astarion. i know. just let it go, darling. be the good boy i know you are and cum for me. all over yourself. ❞

amidst the soft moist sounds of your hands pushing him over the edge, astarion gasps and his hips thrust sharply up, every muscle in his body going taut. the sight is incomparable. you could watch astarion lose himself time after time and never get sick of it.

cum shoots in thick ropes over the vampire’s toned abdomen, his thighs quivering, cock throbbing and twitching between your fingers as you glide one knuckle along that sensitive spot just below his contracting balls.

❝ by the gods, ❞ astarion chokes, as the strings of cum die out, the remainder oozing instead over your hands and wrists.

❝ someone was pent up, ❞ you giggle, slowing your ministrations. ❝ think we got everything or should i try for more? ❞

astarion grabs for one of your hands to still it, and you find that his fingers are trembling. ❝ please, no. i . . . i do think that’s enough for one night. ❞

❝ hm. fine. ❞ you scoot back just enough to be able to cant your hips up, dragging your wet cunt along his lower back. ❝ my turn, then. ❞

#astarion smut #sub!astarion #astarion #astarion hc #ask #anon #dom!reader #astarion x reader #astarion x you

954 notes · View notes

ofspacecrafts · 6 months ago

Text

Tommy’s helicopter goes down the day Bobby is reinstated as Captain.

Christopher is home, Hen and Karen have Mara back, Gerard and Ortiz are fired, Maddie and Chim are having another baby and Bobby is back.

And Buck is in love. He’s never been happier, everything is back to normal, everything is right & it feels the perfect time to finally tell Tommy.

Then they get the call. A chopper just crashed after dropping suppressant near the canyon.

He sees Bobby’s face and he already knows.

Bobby puts a hand on his shoulder. “He’s alert and communicating, we’re going to get him out.”

Buck nods. “ I know I am.”

On the way there they try radioing Tommy but now there’s no response.

The dread builds but he’s breathing through it. All he needs to do is get there.

When they get there they see the helicopter smashed into the side of a rock formation , smoke billowing out of the top.

Buck starts gearing up immediately. Bobby stands in front of him. “I’m going to let you do this. I trust you to do this.” he says softly. “But if at any point I change my mind , I will pull you out.”

Bobby gives orders. Buck and Eddie are repelling down to the crash site with the saws and jaws,

Ravi isn’t far behind, trying to help put out the small fire that’s building around them.

Buck sprints to the pilot side door and he sees him slumped over the controls . Eddie is on the other side where a groggy Lucy is staring up at them.

They work quick to get the doors open but the smoke is getting thicker. “I knew you’d come get your man, Buckley.” Lucy says with a sleepy smile as Eddie drags her out.

Buck hears his door come open with a loud creak.

He quickly grabs Tommy under his arms and pulls him out. He places him gently on the ground.

Buck checks his pulse and calls him name. Tommy blinks , blood dripping from his head. “Ev-Evan?”

Buck sighs with relief and grabs his hand. Hen is behind him with a gurney and the backup medevac is landing,

Bobby gives him an approving nod and tells him to go with them.

It’s not until later at the hospital while they’re running tests that Buck feels like he can’t breathe, he tilts his head back and tries to take a breath. He feels the tears hot on his cheeks before he even realizes he’s crying.

Hen is next to him , putting her hand on his knee. “He’s going to be ok, Buck. He’s going to be ok because of you.”

The tests all come back clear but they keep him overnight to be safe.

Buck refuses to leave so Bobby offers to pick them up in the morning.

They’re waiting in the hallway while the nurse gives Tommy paperwork.

“Buck, I’m proud of you , you know that ?” Bobby says. Buck looks at him and realizes there’s tears in his eyes . “I meant it when I said you’ve come a long way, son.”

Inspired by this and this .

Linked posts by : @asraindarkness @peppermintquartz @buckevantommy @unfuckablebogtroll

#I know nothing about California and helicopters and fires #bucktommy #evan buckley #911 abc #tommy kinard #buck x tommy

257 notes · View notes

alchemistc · 6 months ago

Text

for love that i'll keep tending | bucktommy 1/1

read on ao3

Tommy has been... stewing, for most of the night. There's no way around it.

He's been reserved, picking at the label on his latest craft beer, something he'd actually used his timeshare on the chopper to fly out to Colorado to pick up because Buck had gone down a research spiral and mentioned might be fun to try (after he'd gotten teary-eyed about the one dedicated to a brewery dog who'd passed), only the brewery didn't ship.

Eddie is almost positive they haven't had a fight. He'd spent an entire 24 with Buck, and even if Buck had been keeping silent about it -- unlikely, but always a possibility -- he'd definitely have been brooding about it. But he'd been normal. For the general rule of Buck, anyway, he'd been normal. Maybe even a little more chipper than usual. When he'd smacked a hand to Eddie's shoulder on the way to his Jeep, he hadn't even done the usual rigamarole of acting a little jealous about Eddie and Tommy spending time together without him.

Shit, is Buck losing interest?

But -- no.

No, because a week ago they'd gone to a call for a lost little girl in the canyon, and when they'd gotten to her and she'd told them all about going camping with her dads, and how she'd gotten turned around and lost, Buck had done his normal routine with kids and charmed her into calm, and when they'd found the guys frantically searching for their daughter an hour and a half later, Buck had gotten a look in his eye that Eddie had been seeing a lot of lately.

There was the general look he always gave kids -- babies especially, but kids in general -- like he found them more precious than anything else in the world. And then there was the look he reserved for parents and their kids -- contemplative, a little wistful, like he was remembering there was someone out there in the world with half his genetic makeup.

And then there was the one for gay men and their children. It wasn't like it happened a lot, but often enough that even Eddie sometimes wondered if Buck wasn't accidentally manifesting these meetings. It'd been happening with greater frequency since the moment Andi from B shift had unceremoniously dumped her new baby into Tommy's arms so that she could grab a slice of Bobby's famous apple pie before it was gone. Tommy'd been magnanimous enough to refuse to hand the baby back for most of the evening, eyeing her frazzled hair and the circles under her eyes and making the executive decision that she needed a break, even if it was just forty-five minutes at the station while they all celebrated the new arrival and the extra two weeks of maternity leave they'd had to practically sue the city for.

Buck's love of kids seemed to have laser-focused since seeing Tommy rocking a baby in one arm while he spoon-fed Jee-Yun cake in the seat next to his.

And Eddie hasn't ever really talked to Tommy about kids, in general. He's good with Chris, unfazed in the face of all his angsty teenage moods, happy to be drawn into conversations that even Eddie and Buck sometimes aren't sure how to navigate. He knows Jee's a little obsessed with him, and that it's a point of pride for Tommy. Denny and Mara are always begging Hen to invite him over more.

Maybe it's finally hitting, though? That a future with Buck almost certainly means children, at some point?

The heavyweight match ends with a technical KO in the third round and Eddie stands to grab another round of beers.

"I bought a ring on my day off," Tommy says, staring hard at his mostly empty growler, and Eddie drops back into his recliner with a grunt.

"Okay," Eddie tells him, leaning in with his elbows on his knees. Neither one of them speaks as the next bout is announced. It's technically the one they went halvsies on the package for, but Eddie doubts either one of them cares enough about it to refocus. "I gotta say, man, if you're having second thoughts I'm the wrong person to talk to, because I'm gonna get defensive and tell you you're a damn fool, and I doubt it's gonna be helpful."

Tommy turns to give him a look so unimpressed that Eddie's actually a little jealous. That, at least, is helpful.

"Okay. Good. Great, even. So, what exactly is it that's been making you leak existential dread all over my couch since you got here?"

Eddie can think of a couple different possibilities. He isn't Buck-close with Tommy, but they talk, and it's not like he hasn't been around the two of them together enough to not have been privy to some of the more intimate conversations they've had. Family is a rough subject for all of them. So there's still that glaring what if they haven't talked about kids possibility. Or just a general fear that Buck isn't ready for this step -- completely unfounded, but Tommy's a lot more insecure about this stuff than he tends to let on.

Tommy grimaces. Gestures vaguely, and shakes his head, before he finally makes eye contact. "Evan's the grand gestures guy. And now I've got a ring burning a hole in my pocket, and jack shit as far as how to propose."

And this -- this is actually the most delightful answer he could have given. This is primo blackmail material. The best man speech is literally gonna write itself.

Eddie lets him stir in it for a hot minute. He tilts his head back and forth, nods to himself, rolls his tongue over his teeth, waits, waits, waits until Tommy narrows his eyes at him and reaches for a bottle cap on the coffee table to toss at Eddie's head.

Eddie laughs. "You could ask him two days laid up in bed with the flu, covered in flop sweat, and the answer would be the same."

Tommy rolls his eyes. "Clearly my point is that he deserves more than that, and I don't have a clue where to start."

"Well," Eddie starts, "I'm aware that everyone and their mother thinks I have a secret, elaborate proposal planned out for Buck already, but I am once again reminding you that we've been over this and I'm not actually hiding any unrequited feelings for the man you want to be your husband. So."

That saga won't make it into the speech. That's a private little story for the three of them to look back on, twenty years from now, and laugh about. That's a weekend stretch of conversations in the woods of Big Bear, sharing a tent that really should have only fit one of them, that Eddie will never be able to properly express his gratitude for.

"So you've got nothing," Tommy says, a little accusatory, a lot bitchy.

"Buck likes making big gestures, man. I have zero point of reference on what he'd like if the tables were turned."

But -- actually.

Tommy huffs, melting into the couch cushions like his marionette strings have been cut.

There's a thought percolating, though. He's just not sure --

"I shouldn't be worried," Tommy says, more to himself than to Eddie. It'd been an interesting revelation, half-a-year in, finding out that Tommy was actually kind of a yapper, once he was comfortable with someone. "We've talked about this. Marriage, kids, the whole nine yards. I don't know why I'm building this up in my head."

Which is unintentionally the most helpful thing he's said so far.

"I have... an idea," Eddie drops, tentative, as Pereira once again proves why he gets the title card every time he fights. Tommy's eyes snap to his, interested. "Depends how much you trust Jee to keep a secret."

She's her fathers daughter, so very little should be the answer. They'll have to keep her in the dark until day of. Probably find a way to keep Buck distracted until things are fully in motion.

Tommy leans in.

_____

Eddie's still riding the high of finally beating Josh and Maddie at pool when Buck and Tommy slide into the bar, the two of them grinning ear to ear. Eddie spots it first, and shoots a wide eyed look at Tommy, because they'd spent a week trying to plot out a time when everyone necessary to The Plan would be available for a long enough time to make it work without cutting corners. That day is still... three and a half weeks away.

And Buck's got a ring on his finger. Eddie's already seen it up close, a simple gold band, an inscription on the inside he doesn't really know the significance of, even if it'd made Tommy go a little moony-eyed when Eddie read it aloud.

Tommy... is also wearing a ring.

Dios, did Buck go out and buy a ring the night Tommy came over for the fights?

They're made for each other. They're both insane.

Buck isn't exactly subtle when he slams his hand down on the eight-top they'd snaked half an hour ago, and if Maddie hadn't immediately shrieked and drawn the attention of half the bar, Eddie is certain he'd have wiggled his fingers for emphasis. Maybe done a jig before he Vanna'd Tommy's bling, too.

Josh immediately monopolizes all of Buck's attention by demanding Buck tell him the story with haste, Buckley, so Eddie gets a chance to raise an eyebrow at Tommy, who quickly rolls his jaw to hide the massive grin threatening to overtake his entire face.

"Well I wasn't dying of dysentery," Tommy deadpans, as the smile leaks through at the corners of his mouth. His nose scrunches when he tries to bite it down.

"He forgot to put the box away before I got back from my run," Tommy admits, cheeks dimpling, and then the fight is out of him, left fist clenched tight so that the thick band catches in the overhead light, deep grooves stretching towards his ears as he unleashes the depths of his happiness upon the world.

Eddie can picture the mad scramble, the awareness that he's been caught, the doe-eyed grin that seems to be reserved specifically for Tommy.

Buck is making a gesture that is probably less obscene than it looks, based on the way Maddie continues to grin without any sign of pulling a face. Josh is sighing.

Chimney and Hen are gonna be pissed they were running late.

Eddie owes Hen twenty bucks.

("Yeah, have you met them? I'm taking bets right now, there's no way Tommy lasts a month with a ring and a plan.")

Maddie seems to realize at the same moment as Buck that they'd narrowed their focus so completely that the prospective fiance has had time to order drinks. She rounds on Tommy with the same unhinged joy she'd fostered in her brother, growing up.

"You didn't tell me!" she says, and Eddie assumes that means Tommy had (eventually, and god does he know way too much about how active their sex life is) divulged his plan.

"You would have told Howie," Tommy accuses, and when Maddie doesn't deny it Tommy just looks smug. His grin goes soft around the edges when he catches Buck beaming at him over his sisters shoulder.

Eddie takes the opportunity, before the rest of the party arrives and derails the conversation for a second retelling, to round the table and gather Buck up in a hug.

Buck's embrace is tight, and maybe a little teary. Eddie clings back, and thinks of the years and years of disappointed hopes, the loves that fizzled out, or burst into flames, the thing behind Buck's eyes that had only made itself known after Tommy stuck around.

Hen and Chim find them like that. He doesn't even let her get a word out before he's giving Buck a hearty smack on the back and digging for his wallet.

#bucktommy #bucktommy fic #tevan fic #eddie pov

174 notes · View notes

mvltisstuff · 1 year ago

Note

Hi! Could I please request a 911 fic, please? Reader is Buck and Maddie’s little sister and is dating Eddie. She goes for a hike and falls, maybe just like a broken leg and concussion... but she has to call 911 and is freaking out a little and Maddie does her best to calm her down til the 118 gets there. Then lots of fluff with the guys. Maybe they show up at her apartment the next day to help her out with things and binge some tv with her. Thank you in advance!

sos - e.d

summary: request

eddie diaz x buckley!reader

a/n: tysm for the request, hope you enjoy 💗

y/n thought it was common sense to not disturb the wildlife in the trail. there were signs everywhere, you had to be blind to miss them. blind or stupid, at least. she also knew that the group of teenage girls had ignored the sign, trying to run after the deer and scare them away.

it was her one day off. it wasn’t a huge day to go to the hiking paths, so she went when it wasn’t busy. however, the mob of juveniles came across like they were the only people to exist, shoving anyone and anything out of their way. y/n had fallen victim in their path of destruction. she had been firmly distracted on the panicked deer, being able to outrun their pictures and harassment.

stupidly, her food stumbled on a pit, twisting her ankle as she fell down the rocky hill. she felt the massive rock jab her head, leaving a pitchy ringing in her ears. the fall had turned her leg in ways that it shouldn’t turn. finally, after what felt like minutes of falling, she landed on her back on the dusty floor of the woods. she lay there panting for a few moments, hoping someone would have seen her fall, but there wasn’t anyone but the excited shouting of the girls. she basically had no other choice but to fish her phone out of her pocket. she was so discombobulated and facing pain that she could only manage to type the three numbers.

“9-1-1, what is your emergency?” the voice of y/n’s older sister came through the phone, making y/n’s heart race in relief.

“maddie! oh, jesus,” she groans. “so, funny story, i just fell on my hike and i bashed my head on a rock, and then my leg did a weird thing and now it hurts like a bitch so i don’t r-“

“y/n?” she could tell the panicked voice of her sister. “wha- ok, first, tell me what trail you’re on.”

“i’m on the northeast trail at brush canyon,” y/n informs, despite the throbbing ache in her skull.

“alright, i’m sending units to you now, but stay on the phone with me?”

“i will. god, those girls were just running like maniacs an-“

“hey, hey, calm down, y/n. you’re going to be fine, just don’t get too riled up, yeah? police and rescue are 3 minutes away from your location now.”

“thank you, maddie,” y/n says into the phone, starting to calm down and grow more tired.

“of course, that’s why i’m here. the police should pull up in a minute, i love you,”

“i love you too, maddie,” maddie hangs up the phone, leaving her to buck and eddie now. they came to check the safety of the trail after hearing about the pits, and the concerns of people tripping and tumbling down the hills. when buck saw his little sister on the ground, his heart stopped.

“y/n?” he shouted, sliding down the hill and next to y/n’s body.

“heyyy, buck,” she says, being given pain medicine by chimney. “oh, i fell by the way.”

“eddie!” he yells, calling for her boyfriend as he walks down to see her too.

“what the hell happened?” he asks, completely alarmed by her state on the ground. “hey, are you ok?”

“splendid. not the best hike, but i’ll just leave a bad review. and someone tell those bitches to stop running after the deer!”

“alright, she’s fine,” buck laughs, getting his sisters personality back as they lift her onto the stretcher. bobby allows buck and eddie to travel with her to the hospital, as her eyes close in the back.

“i’m not sleeping, i’m just resting my eyes.”

“y/n, you probably should sleep,” buck tells her.

“yeah, baby, you hit your head pretty good,” eddie adds. he smiles at y/n’s scrunched eyebrows and shut eyes as she just continues to fall asleep one minutes later.

the doctors had confirmed that she did fracture her patella, and would be limited in movement for a few weeks. she had a light concussion from the impact on her head, but she’d heal perfectly fine. it wasn’t really anything to worry about.

she returned back to her apartment with maddie, helping her carry her things back in with the crutches. “thanks, maddie.”

“don’t thank me, just please be careful now,” she begs. “i don’t want you to push yourself like evan did and get all worked up.”

“i’m fine, maddie, i swear.”

“ok,” she concludes. “i have to go to work, but if you need anything in the world, call me or buck or eddie and i’m sure someone will help you. are you sure you don’t need anything?”

“maddie, get out of my apartment and go to work. i am fine!”

“alright, i love you. i’ll see you soon,” she says, shutting the door behind her as y/n sits on the couch, leaning her new crutches against it. she finally gets settled watching some old random reruns from tlc, getting invested in it when she realizes that she has to eat something with her new medicine. she tries to figure out something, when she hears an abrupt knock on her door. she limps over with her crutches, revealing a grinning buck and eddie by her door with a bag of food.

“we come with food!” buck smiles. “your favorite! cheesecake factory!”

“you guys did not have to do this,” she says, letting them come in and placing a kiss on eddie’s lips.

“well, we wanted you to have anything you need,” eddie tells her.

“i appreciate, i really do.”

“good, so what do you need done?” eddie asks. y/n thinks about what she could get away with, and manages to make them clean her entire kitchen. they did it willingly, so it’s nothing but a win for her.

“perfect! now, come eat with me and watch this show i found,” she beams, crutching over to the couch and placing the bag of food in front of her on the coffee table.

“what are we watching?” buck asks, starting to crack open his takeout box.

“i’m not really sure, some guy making cakes in new jersey,” she presses the volume as the voice of the man comes through the speakers. she sits back with her plate of food, looking at her two favorite boys in the world.

927 notes · View notes

rabbitcruiser · 2 years ago

Photo

Buck Canyon Overlook, Canyonlands National Park (No. 3)

The Ancestral Puebloans inhabited this area and some of their stone and mud dwellings are well-preserved, although the items and tools they used were mostly removed by looters. The Ancestral Puebloans also created rock art in the form of petroglyphs, most notably on Newspaper Rock along the Needles access road.

The Maze district is located west of the Colorado and Green rivers. The Maze is the least accessible section of the park, and one of the most remote and inaccessible areas of the United States.

A geographically detached section of the park located north of the Maze district, Horseshoe Canyon contains panels of rock art made by hunter-gatherers from the Late Archaic Period (2000-1000 BC) pre-dating the Ancestral Puebloans. Originally called Barrier Canyon, Horseshoe's artifacts, dwellings, pictographs, and murals are some of the oldest in America. The images depicting horses date from after 1540 AD, when the Spanish reintroduced horses to America.

Since the 1950s, scientists have been studying an area of 200 acres (81 ha) completely surrounded by cliffs. The cliffs have prevented cattle from ever grazing on the area's 62 acres (25 ha) of grassland. According to the scientists, the site may contain the largest undisturbed grassland in the Four Corners region. Studies have continued biannually since the mid-1990s. The area has been closed to the public since 1993 to maintain the nearly pristine environment.

Source: Wikipedia

106 notes · View notes

unholyhelbig · 1 month ago

Note

Cowboy Kate is about to fuck me uppp

Title: Outlawed (1/4)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Main Masterlist

Summary: When y/n returns to her hometown of Barton Hollow she stumbles across an outlaw in dire need of help. Together, the two navigate complicated feelings, and demons from their past that are determined to destroy them in the way only the Wild West could.

Warnings: blood, urban legends, grave robbing, religious trauma, guns, droughts, horses (?), tattoos (also ?), horrible medical knowledge that is impossible I know give me a break, bad language, sexual content, bad grammar, I don't proofread these.

[A/n: This is my time to shine, right? I live in the wild west! No. I am a city girl through and through. This first chapter is dedicated the wonder @noturlondonboy and @thinking1bee because they are always phenomenal, give them both a follow and also lmk if you want to be tagged in future parts!]

“Easy girl,” the words pushed past dry lips that tasted vaguely of dust and the metal of blood. The heat of the sun had cracked them to all hell throughout the day, burned them past salvage. You’d worried them enough to strip two layers before the sharp sting became too much and the change in your horses behavior became the more pressing matter.

Othello came to a slow trot at the mouth of a canyon, a large and sparce mouth lined in red rocks. The foliage was dried out with the rest of the drought afflicting the land, raking across his chestnut fur that reminded you cruelly of fingers against windowpanes. Incessantly tapping and scratching to bide your attention in the dark of night.

Your mama told you to keep your back to the noise and to never, no matter what, open the window. Even if the thing begging to be let in on the other side of the glass sounded like something you knew. It was a regular occurrence at the farmhouse, and eventually, after being ignored for so long, you figured it had grown bored of you and chose another family to torment.

Out here, there was nowhere to turn your back to. Closing your eyes brought more darkness, and a window didn’t separate you from the horrors that liked to tap on glass. You listened to your horse, and the unease in your gut. That was another thing mama taught you.

The plains dropped to a lower temperature at night, your breath a specter in front of you, giving away your panic in each pant. Othello had slowed to a trot, her hulking form making slow work of a path many had traveled before you. It was something you’d much rather do by the rays of the sun, not the silver light of the moon. Othello kept her head down, streams of breath leaving her nostrils.

You tightened your grip on the reigns, muscles taut with fear and sweat soaking through the layers of fleece around your shoulders. Othello wasn’t partial to snakes, and neither were you. Your lungs began to ache with the cool breath you held, not quite sure if you preferred something hiding in the foliage with no legs, or too many.

Othello gave you a warning snort before she bucked you off. It was indignant but gave you a moment to unwrap the cured leather from your palm prior to her hollow back leaving you entirely. Your horse never went far. She wasn’t the type to traverse plains without you, but she would get herself a good distance away from danger, effectively depositing you right in it’s path.

A groan escaped you along with the air you’d been holding. You made quick work of canvassing the red clay you’d landed flat on. Four fangs hadn’t dug themselves into soft skin yet, nor had clawed hands stripped you of your hide. Instead, you felt the uncomfortable tip of a boot against your side.

“Shit,” you rolled onto your back, releasing a train of expletives “What the fuck?”

In the pale moonlight, you caught a sticky burgundy puddle that collected the dessert dust. The land was greedy for moisture, and it didn’t care if it was in the form of blood or water. A drought was a drought in these parts. Bodies would be picked clean and the same boots that dug into your ribs would be the only thing that remained.

A metallic scent tickled your nose, too much blood to be survivable. Shell casings littered the area, and you sat up with an indignant huff, taking stock of the mass of body that was slumped against the cracked sandy ground. She was dressed in mostly pitch, skin gaunt from her wounds.

An equally as dark cattleman hat was just out of reach, as if her fingers had brushed it’s rim but she hadn’t the strength to grasp it. Your father valued his cowboy hat more than he valued you, and if this woman was the same, then there was something to be said about her dying moments.

Her lips were parted, void of color. There was a beauty to her that made your heart pound in a strange type of longing. You hadn’t seen another soul in about a week, and your chest ached for someone who had died in the line of fire for god knows what. It was an ambush, you were sure. A beautiful woman who had been struck down and had died all alone, left for the coyotes to pick apart with their rotted teeth.

Regardless of her current state, and your reservations, you started to dig through the girls pockets, careful to avoid the saturated fabric. There were some russet-colored bills, and some loose bullets that you shoved haplessly into your own pockets. A pearl-handled colt pistol, tinted in a strawberry color, slippery in blood.

Your thumb swiped over the sloppy engraving in soft silver; K.B

Your fingers found a chain around her neck, a thick gold with a nephrite Wyoming Jade in the center. Valuable. Too valuable to be left if she was shot at close range. Whoever had done this had aimed to kill and had succeeded. You wrapped your fingers around the bulk of the chain, ready to pull with enough force to snap the clasp.

Deathly cold fingers suddenly wrapped around yours, bringing your heart into your throat. They didn’t squeeze hard, weren’t able too. But it was a warning. Her skin was tacky and barely alive. When your panicked eyes moved to hers, they had snapped open. Grey and ghostly.

“Graverobbing before I’m even in the grave, sweetheart?” She croaked out. “No respect for the dead.”

You were effectively straddling a dead body. A half-dead body. A mostly dead body, and shame was rushing to your cheeks. If you stayed still, you were sure her hand would drop from yours and you could mount Othello and be on your way. It wasn’t something you could do with a good conscience.

The strangers hand fell limply to her side, but if you focused hard enough, you could feel her shallow breaths. When you laid yourself flat against her and pressed your ear to her cold chest, there was a cracking inhale and exhale. Far apart, but still there. Another groan pushed past your lips, drowning out the girls pitiful attempts to hang onto life.

Othello chuffed next to you.

“Don’t give me that look.” You glared up at her. She was judging you. The whites of her eyes were visible and narrowed and you hated it when she took on this stance. “She could be some horrible criminal that’s murdered a whole orphanage.”

Another indignant noise.

“Well yes, I was robbing her, but objectively murder is worse. And who says I can even nurse her back to health?”

This time, Othello didn’t even make a noise. She didn’t have to. You were a physician, one of the only ones on this side of the country who hadn’t fallen for the fad of radium water, of course you could nurse her back to health, and you could do it well.

It would be easier, simpler, to let her parish. As dark as it had sounded to your own ears it would prove to keep your soul intact for just a little while longer. You weren’t practicing anymore. Couldn’t, and part of you wanted to refuse coming out of self-induced retirement for the likes of a stranger bleeding out a few miles from your hometown.

Othello pushed her nose between your shoulder blades, shoving you forward enough to see the constellations of freckles that were losing pigment fast on the girls cheeks. She’d gotten them from spending too much time in the heat of the sun as a child, just like you had. She had a family. Friends. People who you were sure loved her, someone who had given the gun you shoved into the breast of your own jacket.

A growl pushed past your lips, hands gripping her lapels “You better be worth it, K.B.”

A fine layer of dust coated the three-room farmhouse that had been long since abandoned. Most of the room was taken up by the kitchen, a wood burning stove the center piece that you begged to light. It was too damp, ironically. The musk that filled your lungs made you want to vomit, but you swallowed it down.

The kitchen table that your father hand carved still stood but one of the chairs was missing, pushed up to the ice box where it had been rifled through until it was picked clean. Iron pans were still hanging where your mama had left them and you didn’t’ dare look down the hallway towards where your room sat, likely untouched, but coated in the same red dust that the looming winds brought the rest of the land.

Despite your aching muscles and protesting bones, you deposited the stranger onto the bare mattress in your parents abandoned room and pawed around for the oil lamp on the bedside table. It ignited easily enough, filling the room with a kerosene scent that tickled your throat.

A squelching grumble pulled from the girls lungs that sounded too pained for your liking. It was almost a death rattle, and you couldn’t have that. Not after you’d pulled her so close to your front and kept your arms looped around her to keep her steady on Othello’s back.

It had become clear that she’d been shot through the center, something that had gone straight through and tore through organs cleanly. What you needed to do now was staunch the blood, to make sure her lungs hadn’t been clipped in the process.

You made quick work of stripping her of her coat, tossing it over the chair in the corner of the room. It was harder to remove her shirt, soaked so fully in blood that her pearl buttons were nearly impossible to get a grasp on. You were a professional, and a decent one at that, but it was hard to ignore the beauty of the girl underneath you, the tautness of her muscles as they contracted under your fingers, searching for her outward wounds in the soft yellow light.

Another gurgled sound and you grabbed the scalpel from your leather bag, turning her slightly to the side before you made a calculated slice, drawing more blood. It seemed counter intuitive, really, drawing in the scent of more metal, coating the bare mattress in even more blood- but it had culminated within her lungs and you needed to release the pressure, clear her airways.

It was a risk, something you’d only seen done once in a small town down south in a marsh area teeming with mosquitos that swarmed the wound before it had so much as dripped an ounce of color. This was different. The girl coughed wetly and expelled a mix of dark red blood and bile onto the front of your shirt and down her own chest, finally getting in a good breath.

“Disgusting,” You snarled, scooting back from her. “Seriously, this is how you thank me?”

You didn’t expect an answer and didn’t get one, either. The stranger, slightly less pale, flopped back down, her unbuttoned shirt riding up uncomfortably. But she was breathing better and there was color to her cheeks now. It was enough for you not to be as worried about her. Enough to where you could patch her up the rest of the way without questioning her mortality.

Exhaustion seemed to catch up with you as surveyed her. Most of her wounds, save for the lead slug to the gut, were superficial. She was dead weight, it was impossible to peel the shirt away from her entirely, but you caught the edge of black ink that escaped from the white fabric near her shoulder, your fingers running absently over the scarring, trying to identify something you couldn’t quite pin.

It was useless, blotchy and impossible to read. You had seen a handful of tattoos in your day. Not so much in the south, with it’s cloying heat, but the Appalachians, with it’s thick foliage and thicker legends, were wrought with them. The same needles you used to stitch up bleeding men were dipped into indigo ink and pushed past the first two layers of skin in an artful, tasteful way.

The daughter of the family that was kind enough to house you in a town just west of North Carolina had a beautiful etching of hemlock that stretched across the greater part of the back of her neck and dipped under the sheer white of her nightgown. It stretched it’s roots between her shoulder blades. You had brushed the whisps of mousy-brown hair to the side and kissed a venomous trail that had left her fisting the sheets.

Her sounds of ecstasy had woken her older brother, who kicked down the door with a double-barrel shotgun in his grip and a fresh handful of chew shoved in his bottom lip. He slurped through every other question, but it didn’t matter much because you were crouched under the girls window, hastily buttoning your shirt with one hand and biting the inside of the other to stop from laughing.

You bandaged the stranger as if it were habit. Medicine was like riding a bike. You had little to work without in the field and here, in the childhood home that you refused to rummage around, you figured that this was enough of a distraction to keep you from dwelling on the foreclosure. On being back here in the first place.

When you were satisfied with your work, you discarded your own blood-soaked jacket and plopped down into the nearest chair. It was coated in the same red clay dust that infiltrated the rest of the place. You breathed in the chalk. It masked the scent of your mama’s cooking and your fathers cologne. Small mercy’s.

He kept a marked-up bible in the bottom drawer of his dresser that you knew would still be there. That was the common law of the land. Of all land, you supposed. Not messing with a man’s bible. You weren’t particularly religious, despite attending Pastor Barton’s services every Sunday and swallowing the bland chili that his wife served up in the small patch of grass behind the chapel.

The thin pages were something to flip through, and you were always curious about your fathers beliefs. He was a stoic man with a heavy hand, speaking in violence rather than words that often evaded him. It wouldn’t’ shock you if many of the underlined passages emphasized hard work, and penance for wrongdoing. You stopped believing in God when he drank hard and came home hitting harder, with closed fists.

The leather was worn, and there were smudges where he had turned the paged methodically in a achingly human habit. You leaned back in the chair and propped your boots up on the side of the bed where the stranger lay, her fingers splayed on her chest. Your eyes started to grow heavy with sleep, scanning the text of the book, but not retaining a single thing.

It was your full intention to stay awake, to make sure she was still breathing through the night. You had done it countless times before for patients on the battlefield, and those who were spewing blood into cut blankets donated to consumption clinics to staunch an illness already too far gone. This should be no different. But the comfort of home, the weight of your fathers bible in your hands and the familiarity of a pillow your mama had stitched started to take it’s toll.

The dust that coated the windows only allowed odd streaks of sunlight through, skewing your assessment of time. When you jolted awake, you did so ungracefully and wobbled in the chair enough to plant your booted feet on the floor and let the sacred text fall flat on the stained wood, bending the pages towards the very hell it forsake.

Your body ached from your last day of travel, but more than that, it ached from your lack in judgement.

The stranger was awake.

There was no lingering grogginess from her recent unconsciousness. She had been watching you for a while, possibly hours, but was powerless to do anything about it. The frustration that was etched into her features was adorable, really. Those grey eyes were less ghostly in this light, and there was a semi-healthy color to her cheeks. She had pushed herself up against the headboard.

“You undressed me.” She rasped.

“I saved you,” You corrected, “I unbuttoned your shirt to address a gunshot wound.”

The stranger glanced down at the clinic wrapping around her midsection, and the incision you had made against her chest to release the blood building up in her lungs. She didn’t say a thing about it, likely didn’t know why you had done it in the first place. Her voice was still haunting, you realized. But you wouldn’t let it rattle you in your own home. The banks home.

So, you stood and picked up the bible, not bothering to smooth out the pages before putting it back in it’s proper place. It would most likely remain until the house was destroyed. Rotted through, or leveled into the dusty abyss until Barton Hollow was no more.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I got shot through the stomach, left for dead, robbed, then brought back to life.”

You clenched your jaw, arms crossed over your chest as you stared deftly at her. She had a smug look on her pale, beautiful face that almost infuriated you. Almost. You should have listened to your better judgement and not your horse. She was a bastard, and she had a warm blush against your cheeks. You had tried robbing her, but then you saved her, and that should count for something.

“Well,” You cleared your throat awkwardly. “You should be fine in a few days. Bullet went straight through. If we can avoid an infection, which, if you stay in one place we can do relatively easily, then you should be fine.”

She frowned, pushing a small breath through her lips. The look of indignance you gave her only spurred on her movement as she swung her legs off the side of the bed and began to shakily lift herself up. “No can do, sweetheart. I have a lot of people trying to kill me, so if you’ll just-“

A pained grunt cut her off, shaky fingers finding their way to the bandaged edge of her ribs, hidden under the fabric of her shirt. A wetness filled the stormy grey of her eyes and you wanted to feel bad for her, you did. But you knew her type. She wasn’t going to listen until she tested her pain.

You stood in front of her now, head cocked, lip turned up into a ghost of a smile. “If I’ll just what?”

“Fuck off, Doctor dumbass” She gritted through pain, no doubt opening her wound once more.

“It’s Doctor y/l/n, actually. You can either lie back and be a good little patient, or I can leave you here to bleed out. Again. It’s not a pleasant way to go.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t like you.”

“I’m not too fond of you either, gorgeous. You ruined my mattress and pissed off my horse. But you preemptively paid for my services with the cash you had in your coat pocket, so we’ll call it even, K.B”

She mustered a pitiful growl through her pain but did as she was told, lowering herself back onto the down pillow with only a few soft exhales. Her temperature was running hot and her skin was fresh with a fever that you didn’t like the looks of. The stranger had torn through the only healing her body had thus far allowed. Figured.

Shockingly, she let you work in relative silence, training her eyes on a spot of worn wood on the ceiling that you used to stare at as a child yourself. She seemed to flinch under the coolness of your hand, and you muttered a small apology, tender with your touch.

“It’s Kate.”

You frowned, working a small bit of iodine onto the gash you had created just below her sternum. “Pardon?”

“My name. It’s Kate.”

“Kate,” the name fit her, something that could punctuate the end of a sentence. It could be called out in annoyance, too. A simple syllable that rested at the tip of ones tongue. “You said people were trying to kill you. They close?”

“Closer now, I assume.”

You hummed. “The people in this town, Barton Hollow, they have a fine bounty on my head. So, you’re in good company. I’ll stay still if you do.”

#Kate Bishop #Cowboy Kate Bishop #Kate Bishop x reader #Kate Bishop x you #Kate Bishop x y/n #Yelena Belova #Clint Barton #Hawkeye #Hawkeye Marvel #Marvel Fanfic #Marvel Fanfiction #Marvel What if #Western au #She's a cowboy!!!

98 notes · View notes

mattzerella-sticks · 9 months ago

Text

We lost Madney wedding planning 😢 Henren bonding with Mara 😢😢 Bathena shenanigans with Harry (and May?) 😢😢😢 and Buck coming out to his loved ones 😢😢😢😢 by skipping to the wedding due to the shortened season.

This ain't just a fanfic gap it's a CANYON!

135 notes · View notes

peppermintquartz · 1 month ago

Note

Prompt: Buck and Tommy forget they booked a couples vacation and not wanting to waste it, they go on it together anyways.

It's a week-long trip starting from Las Vegas out to the Grand Canyon and Monument Valley that they booked about four months ago, and they had submitted their claims for time off once they decided. Of course, neither of them had expected then that they are going to be touring as exes instead of boyfriends.

It would be less of an issue if they could have changed their accommodations. As it is, they're stuck sharing rooms throughout seven days. Buck manages to use his charm to swap over to rooms with twin beds, claiming that they booked together for the discount but they're 'just friends'.

Las Vegas is full of distractions, so once the tour briefing is over, Buck finds himself walking around the hotel. He contemplates ducking into the casino, play a couple of hundred dollars before grabbing a bite and turning in for the night, but a quick circuit inside disabuses him of the notion. It's too loud, too bright, too chaotic.

Returning to their room, he's greeted with a familiar muscular back. Tommy looks over his shoulder and takes a breath, before pulling on a black henley. "Hey, uh. I... I was gonna go look for someplace for dinner." He swallows and licks his lips. "You wanna come with or, I mean. If-If you want to be alone, that's cool too-"

"Uh, actually. I'd like to come with. Dinner sounds good." Buck takes a step closer. "But, before we go out to eat, can I... can we talk?"

Tommy stuffs his hands into his pockets and shrugs. "Sure."

The last time they talked, it had ended with Tommy walking out on Buck. Now, Buck stays where he is, in front of the door.

"I don't want this trip to be too awkward," he says. "I mean, even though we're... we're ex-boyfriends now, it's not like you hate me, right?"

"Of course not!" Tommy shakes his head slightly, smiling in disbelief. "That's the last thing I feel about you."

"A-and I don't hate you," says Buck. He tries not to sound too pathetic. "I know I probably, um, I-I did think about it, but I don't. I can't. So, I'm saying that maybe... maybe we can be friends? For now?"

Tommy's expression softens into something tender. He smiles. "Yeah. I'd like that."

"Great! Great. We'll just be friends. On this trip. Have fun." Buck inhales deeply and holds out a hand. "Here's to us being friends."

With his eyebrows raised in that uniquely sardonic manner, Tommy stares at the proffered hand, and then looks at Buck. Then he takes it and shakes, firmly. His hand is still as warm and comforting as Buck remembers. "Friends."

It's going to be a difficult week, Buck knows, but maybe they should have started as friends first. Maybe this is their real second chance of making something lasting.

He hopes that Tommy wants to take it, as much as Buck does.

#bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #tevan #pq writes

34 notes · View notes

morgoonie · 3 months ago

Text

Gonna skip ahead and post monstertober day 13. Mating season from @ozzgin

2nd fic I've written using Dorn now, might start reposting my older works (or redoing them since I've had more practice now with writing)

M!Vampire/Naga x F!Reader

When Dorn had suggested the two of you take a vacation and get out of the city you were more than happy to agree and the two of you quickly packed for your trip. Your boyfriend refused to tell you where he planned on taking you, only giving you vague answers whenever you asked

"Trust me bunny, you're gonna love what I've planned for us." His hands engulfed your waist as he slithered behind you on his way to the closet, his claws catching you shirt and dragging it up playfully as he went.

That was the last time he touched you before he began restraining himself. You weren't sure why he was suddenly cautious but chalked it up as him wanting to avoid accidentally hurting you in his excitement.

Just meant you could have some fun teasing him.

So that's where you were now, wearing a short but comfortable dress without any underwear on, flashing you boyfriend across from you your pretty pussy. You tried to stifled a giggle hearing him groan as he struggled to not stare directly at your dripping slit instead opting to stare out the window to distract himself from your antics.

Before you could tease him further the car began to slow to a stop making both of you perk up. Smirking Dorn popped the door open and got out first, offering you his hand to help you out of the car before pulling you against his muscular chest. Even in his human form Dorn was still built like a tank easily dwarfing you.

As he leaned over the top of the car to chat with the driver, more than likely going over some work details, you glanced around at the scenery. A massive pent house was built into the side of the canyon and overlooked the desert below. Native plants and trees were scattered about the front and you spotted a few lizards scurrying around the steps leading to the now opened doors as a group of people came down to the car.

Dorns grip around you tightened as they walked passed you two gathering at the back of the car to grab your belongings. Most seem indifferent to your presence but a handful did shoot you some dirty looks, though they quickly averted their eyes when your boyfriend gave them a loud warning growl. Even without being in his true form he could somehow managed to get a pretty deep rumble that puts people in their place.

As soon as the trunk was shut and the driver back behind the wheel Dorn scooped you up bridal style, keeping your legs pressed together to avoid giving anyone a peek underneath your dress, and rushed you both inside. Deep brown eyes flashed gold as you giggled in his arms when he skipped every other step leading up to the open doorway

"Someone's impatient to get inside." Though perhaps it was you he was more excited about getting inside of.

Once in the house and out of the sun Dorn grasped his cloaking device and tore it off, reverting to his true form, and nonchalantly tossed it to the side as he carried you further into the pent house. Instead of his usual red and blue uniform he was wearing a simple black tank top showing off his thick muscles; honestly you wondered if he had to feed off of professional athletes to keep his physic.

Not once did he glance down at you as he made quick work finding the master bedroom, nor did he hesitate to literally toss you onto the nest shape bed.

Landing with a small 'oof' having not expected to be airborne for a moment you sit up to call him out only to yelp in surprise when Dorn pulled you to the end of the bed so he could bury his face into your sweet slick folds, his large hands pressing your thighs against the side of his head as he ate you out with determination.

Feeling his long tongue lap at your wetness and suck at your tender nub had you bucking against his face, spurring him on more. Soon his tongue was replaced with two of his thick fingers as he came up to pull you into a heated kiss. Moaning as you tasted yourself as he slipped inside of your mouth your body relaxed into the plush oversized bed, his larger body caging you against it as he continued to fuck you with his fingers.

A deep pleased growl rumbled through Dorn as he eased a third finger into you. Breaking the kiss he grinned as you struggled momentarily to relax around his digits, golden eyes hungrily watching you pant and moan and whine as he pushed in all the way to his knuckles tongue flicking the air to taste your arousal

"Shall I tell you the reason for our vacation bunny?" Nuzzling you neck he gave you soft love bites as he slowly fucked his fingers in and out of you enjoying the wet squelching that filled the room

"Every couple of years some of us go into heat, and it just so happens that this year is mine." The nips and rhythm of his hand became more aggressive as you felt your pussy clench more and more around him with your first orgasm quickly building "I want you to be the one to carry my clutch. Want to breed you until you're filled with my cum and heavy with our eggs by the end of the season."

Drifting off into a conversation with himself Dorn slowly pushed a forth finger into you, his thumb playing with your clit as his fingers curled to press right into your g-spot sending you over the edge.

Your cry out in ecstasy as you squirted over his hand, a loud pleased hiss erupting from Dorn as he watched you coming undone filling the room vibrating the walls. Whining as it soon began to feel to much as you came down from the high Dorn ignored you and started moving his fingers again eyes focused down below watching you soak his hand and the bed with your juices

"Fuck you're so beautiful. You're gonna look so good with a clutch of your own, gonna be such a good mama." Using his free hand Dorn grabs your breast pinching the hard nipple between his fingers and tugging on it in rhythm with his other hand "Can't wait to see these swell with milk. You'll let me have a taste too won't you bunny?" Leanind down his tongue wrapped around the other and pulled it into his mouth, humming in pleasure as your hands found their way into his long dark blue hair and pulled him closer.

You weren't sure how long you two were like that, him playing with your tits as he stretched you out. All you knew was by the time he pulled out his hand to lick it clean the sheets were drenched from the mess he made of you and your dress was soaked in a mixture of cum and sweat. Whining from exhaustion and overstimulation as he manhandled your limp body to get you out of it he casually tossed the dress to the side followed by his tank top Dorn plopped you further up the bed and slithered on top of you, his long muscular ivory tail twisting and coiling around your exhausted body as he propped you up.

Lining up one of his cocks with your soaked pussy he eased into you slowly, one of his massive hands held your hip nails leaving small pink lines from trying to be gentle despite his need to breed you. His other hand clawing at the sheets and mattress as you softly keened and whimpered from his knot bullying its way into you. Despite Dorns earlier work he always stretched you out further than his fingers prepare you for. His second cock found it's place right between your folds rubbing against your sensitive clit, the tip leaking precum over the belly bulge from where his cock snugly sat inside of you.

Letting you adjust for only a moment before pulling back out until only the tip was left in you Dorn snapped his hips against yours with a possessive, albeit needy, growl setting a fast and hard pace as he pressed you further against his tail caging you against himself. The friction of his cocks rubbing against each other while pressing down on your clit brought you over the edge once more making you see stars as he continued to rut against your limp body. Dorns hand left your hip so he could better brace his weight above you with both forearms, a series of hisses and growls pouring from him as he bullied his swelling knot in and out of your tight cunt before it became to large to pull out.

As his warm cum fills you up causing your belly to distend he grunts above you before laying more of his weight on you, pushing his knot even deeper inside of your stuffed pussy.

Purring and nuzzling your hair Dorn leaned heavily on one arm using his free hand to rub your belly murmuring softly about how he couldn't wait to see you grow heavy with his young.

You couldn't help but let your mind wander to what kind of child, or children if you do end up carrying more than one egg, would look like. Smiling you nuzzle him back making Dorn purr louder and shower you with kisses and soft love bites.

You did make a mental note to talk to Dorn about keeping his mating season a secret until last minute for after your nap. If you had known this would have turned into a sex-a-thon stay-cation you would have packed a few extra toys.

#roswell conspiracies: aliens myths and legends #character: dorn #monstertober #monster smut #vampire x reader #naga x reader #female reader #teratophillia

33 notes · View notes