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bambiesfics · 1 year ago

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⊹ Tag! you’re it. ⊹

(5k wc!)

| SNEAK PEEK: “Fuck me. Almost forgot about her.” The brunette unslung the rifle over her shoulder and head. She threw it a small distance away from you two. The black Nula rifle skidded amongst the twigs, then stopped. You breathed a small sigh of relief amidst your mounting panic. Releasing the terror that it could go off while she fucked herself into you.

⊹ SUMMARY: The concept was simple really. It’s quite literally in the title of this fic. I’m sure you’re smart, reader. So I’m also sure you can deduce what she’s going to make you do. But in the rare chance you’re not that bright, I’ll help and spell it out for you.

You…need…to…run.

⊹ WARNINGS: Predator/prey kink. Strap-on use (reader receiving). Outdoor sex, very rough sex, mean as fuck!Dom Ellie, dacryphilia, ass-smacking, black-out, use of “cock” and “dick” and is referred to as Ellie’s, and other things you’ll have to read to see.

⊹ AUTHOR’S NOTE: Minors & puritans this is not the fic for you. Everyone else: make sure you read this at home. This is genuinely, not safe for work (or school!)

The truck skidded to a stop.

The acridness of burnt rubber twisted its way up your nose, reflexively making you scrunch. The russet haired brunette pulled the keys out of the ignition and slammed the truck's door shut. Her black converses made imprints onto the soft earth.

They were just a few of the many tracks to come.

The slam of the GMC door was like a boom in your head, yelling ‘WAKE UP!’

Laid beyond the car window was a terrifying picture of nature. The forest seemed like rows of shark’s teeth; jagged and everlong. Up along the bank, a crowded family of dark green spruce trees were huddled. Mottled like flecks against the horizon. Nothing could be seen but the green overlaid on top of the clear sky. The trees circumferenced along the bank like a protective dome, surrounding the truck.

This was her idea.

The brunette circled the clearing, her bangs blew softly in the wind. She fixed the M-11 sniper across her back, pulling the dual tabs of her corset webbing to tighten it to her torso. The NULA sniper was heavy. A matte black gun with a wide eyed scope. It was Ellie’s favorite. For hunting; both people and game.

Your girlfriend had known for several years that she’d never be a fan of small firearms. She reveled in the kickback of a sniper.

Firearms.

Running.

Rifle.

Chasing.

Polaroids of memory flooded your thoughts. Snapshots of Ellie pleading relentlessly to convince you to let her use you. Use your adrenaline and terror to scratch a deep deep itch within her. Like a flea ridden dog, your girlfriend had a parasite. And the parasite was the chase. It was a primal itch. One that’d been there since she was a younger girl. It teased along the blurred edges of sociopathy and sexuality.

If you’d really paid attention, you would’ve noticed that Ellie was a little…off. There was an aggression that ran congruent with her boyish teasing and fighting. An intuitive itch at the back of your brain often concluded that Ellie had always wanted to bend your arm back a little bit deeper during play fights. Because she too often enjoyed how quickly your laugh crumpled into yelps.

She’d let out a sudden chuckle during really tense moments, but you were subtly aware that Ellie could, and slyly tried, to get a bit more intense with the floor pinning, with the wall traps, with her power plays. And you suspected she liked it.

Ellie was an awe-inspiring girlfriend, so caring and so sweet; so tender. But you still couldn’t gauge where that hidden characteristic in her temperament came from.

Just how far would she really want to take it?

The surface tension of those memories rippled into obscurity like disturbed water. Leaving you to face the bitter nip of the cool air, and the earthy pine notes that carried itself on the wind.

Ellie had been spending her time studying you from across the distance. Trying to pick apart your thoughts from your micro-expressions. She debated on if the little crease between your brow was tense fear, or if it was exhaustion. Common sense advised her that it was exhaustion; you two had only come out here just an hour after dawn, naturally you’d feel drowsy or irate.

And that pleased her.

Tired would work in her favor. Tired would make you sloppy.

Ellie stepped deeper into the clearing. From your position in the passenger seat, you could see her attempt to feel for the direction of the wind, noting which direction it was blowing her hair. She used the sweep of the wind’s blow on her hair to navigate the direction of which path, in the dense forest, would give her the least resistance.

She planned to avoid that path.

She didn’t want this to be easy.

She didn’t speak. She didn’t have too. Ellie turned around slowly and rooted her feet into the soil. In spite of the distance, her gaze was piercing. She didn’t need to shout, but it was finally time to remove yourself from the safety of the truck.

You steadied yourself on the inside of the door, and used the pane to brace your knees before you dropped from out of the truck.

The sun was a high, white gold. Planting an opalescent sheen on the forest underbrush. It grew brighter and warmer the further behind you left the truck.

Towering above the underbrush, were thick alpine trees; the young and the old. Some of them were beyond being old, and were solidly antiquated. Likely as old as the entire forest itself.

Those alpines were the type of old that’d existed in that forest longer than Jackson town. The type of trees that had seen things not a soul nor an eye would have witnessed. Things, no history book had dared to make a record of.

And today, they saw you.

The sun was shining in her eyes. And she returned back to it her own venomous gaze.

Ellie’s ink moth tattoo moved each time her fingers steadied themselves on the bony juts of her hips. Her evergreen eyes blinked back down to study you once more.

In your timid mannerisms she microdosed on the pleasure of the run to come.

Your back straightened at her voice.

“To set this off, I ran the path six times since last sunday. Shouldn’t take you no longer than ten minutes, fifteen at your slowest. You take twenty minutes, and I come looking for you. Got that?”

Her eyes thinned, then relaxed.

“We’ve done similar patrols around the west wing of Jackson.”

“Like the group patrols and stuff right?”

Your answer was less than stellar.

She itched to grin at your reply, but killed it. Schooling her features back into a placid poker face. “Yeah sure. Those’ll definitely prepare you for today.”

Ellie started stalking behind you now. Eyeing the shoes you chose, how you shifted your weight from leg to leg, how your sleeves were longer than your fingers, and how your fingers fidgeted with its hem.

She pulled back from you. She pressed herself deeper into the gray and dull overcast from the trees. Shadowed by their height and mass, she shouted.

“You get a 120 second head start!”

The air was electric, like power lines running above you. Your fingers twitched, and your stomach tightened. And like a firing gun shooting into the air, she growled.

“RUN!”

Your feet pounded at the earth as your skin braced the whipping wind. Jackson’s forest was miles upon piles of jade. It was a claustrophobic cornucopia of trees. The underbrush scraped your legs with each step you took on the illuminated path of the forest floor. Light speckled from the patterned leaves above you, it looked like a kaleidoscopic.

The earth beneath your shoes was beaten flat from the steps of hikers and runners long before you ever came sprinting down. You’d hiked this path, but hiking and sprinting were light years apart. And the staggering imbalance of the terrain was sending shock waves up your legs. You braced it, a mantra looping in your head like your very life depended on.

Just run.

Your breaths were starting to sound heavier and heavier. Worsened by the regret that was creeping up all the same. Jackson had a system of 5am running patrols that were outlined by Maria on the town’s bulletin. Patrols that you could’ve put your name down for. Ellie did them often, just a short lap around Jacksons gates. She always told you it was only “15 minutes tops”, yet you always regarded that time as an extra 15 minutes to sleep in. Realization dawned on you just as quick as your feet turned around a large spruce tree.

That 15 minutes of running truly did add up.

Just run.

A climbing crescendo of snapped twigs and rustling leaves was all that could be heard whipping about. Louder and louder. Heavier and heavier. An orchestra of sounds; of your heartbeat. Of a burning pain from a persons forceful sprint. Someone was panting, fighting, clawing their way out of Jackson’s forest. You were the someone, but your legs were growing tired.

Your calves were burning as your pace increased, the ache was clawing into the muscles in your lower legs like hot iron. The pain bloomed into your thighs and coiled itself into the pit of your lower belly. It left your breath wheezing and dry.

Sweat broke out on your hairline. Perspiration that would drip down to sting your eyes if you didn’t get home in time. You needed to get home fast. Just as long as you got there before her. Just as long as you beat Ellie to Jackson’s gates, you’d be fine.

All you could do was just run.

You slowed to a stop and cleared a log, you straddled it, holding the large body to steady yourself, before swinging your leg off and hopping back onto the ground. You weren’t nimble. Your girlfriend would’ve cleared the trunk with just the push of her left arm. But you were desperate, anything to not be her prey.

Just run.

Your ears picked up on it, before your brain could process it. The sound was unmistakable. Those were Ellie’s footsteps.

Clearing the log had closed the space between you. This chase was a burning thread. Growing shorter as the distance between you two also grew shorter. Ellies footsteps sounded heavier, more hurried. She could finally hear you too.

You pushed past the haze of pain and ran out of the forest, onto the rocky asphalt in front of the abandoned highway. You slid down the ditch, scraping your palms along before tumbling into a shaky sprint. The abandoned cars in the ditch were as much obstacles as they were protection. But up ahead, growing bigger with every step, were the gates; pillars of protection and strength.

The same voice whispered sharply into your concious, reminding you to

just run.

The only caveat was that Ellie’s conscience was telling her the

exact same thing.

She was behind you. But you couldn’t care where or how far Ellie was. You’d deduced that the strewn jagged pebbles had slowed her down. Converses didn’t work nearly as well on rocky terrain. The rhombus sole could tightly pack gravel and pebbles inside of it, which made for an uneven run.

Jackson’s steep wood gates appeared even larger. A good — no — a great thing. To be dwarfed by Jackson’s gates meant that you were near them. Nearer to the town than you had been a mere minute ago; yet again, still with no Ellie in tow.

You relaxed your sprint into a cursory jog. The relief that coursed through you was electrifying. A tired grin threatened to leap off your face. You were burning, but the chase wasn’t nearly as hard as you had suspected it to be, and for that your nervous system was flooded with relief.

You were so close. Just a few more steps and the lap would be cleared.

Ellie shouldn’t have given you that head start. Jesus, that girl could be so arrogant.

The dual gates were close enough to feel their shade. You took another deep breath, and stretched your arms out. The breeze cooled your skin. The relief from the concluded chase blew a spirit of new life into you. You were done! you had won Ellie’s sick little game of tag.

Now, what you would give to head down to the tavern and ask for a mug of sweet tea and some soft brea—

—Ellie slammed into you, crumpling you to the ground. A tiny yelp ripped out of you like a pathetic puppy. She dug her elbow into the small of your back to put you down, before switching tactics. She instead chose to slide her hand up and grip the back of your neck. She shoved your face into the ground. Holding you down in submission.

“Tag. you’re it.” She giggled.

Your shocked scream was muffled by the ground. Like some hunted doe, only your eyes could communicate. And they strained painfully to the right, hoping to see what the hunter was doing. The pain in the base of your spine ebbed as Ellie removed the puncture of her left knee from your back. She dropped into a crouch. But her hands slid down your back, then down your thighs, then to your knees where she gripped the sides of the joints and forcefully shoved them apart.

In the quiet of the dawn, you were more than a sight to see. You were a picture of desire to drink in, and a terrifying desperation possessed Ellie.

You should’ve ran faster.

Ellie inched all ten knuckles under the band of your jeans, she struggled to shove down your pants and underwear, grunting curses under her breath.

“No way in hell you were convinced you actually had a chance to win against me. I don’t think you realize how much I had to hold myself back. Couldn't let it be that easy for myself.”

Your breath came out ragged.

Ellie loved that.

She barely managed to shove the waist of your pants underneath the crease of your ass cheeks. But seeing as what she managed left her with just the necessary amount of space she needed to work with, it was certainly good enough.

“Honest question.” She paused for a moment and surveyed you. Her hand curled in the air “just to get this straight, were you jogging the entire lap or were you actually sprinting it? I just couldn’t tell.” She mocked.

The sneer her lips curled into was wicked.

But her violence even moreso.

Ellie slapped your ass harshly, intently drinking in the recoil. You yelped and jerked across the dirt. She lunged across to clamp the back of your neck, eyes piercing.

“Stay.”

The sound of a zipper being pulled down made you struggle in her grasp. Your head was scrambling from side to side to better see her. Picking up strewn leaves to tickle the bottom of your lips.

Ellie was having none of it. The fist on your neck squeezed tighter.

She tsk’d next to your ear, your first and now your final warning. She refused to repeat herself a second time.

If only you could’ve seen what she saw. Ass up, face down, bent like some bitch in heat. You were presenting yourself. Your left cheek was squished against the grass and leaves. And your ass was tempting and teasing itself in her face, globes split apart.

God, you didn’t know, but you’d looked so pathetic. Like you were just waiting to be topped. And if that was what you really wanted, then who was Ellie to deny you that?

A wicked grin bloomed onto her face, replacing the sneer.

One phrase boomed in her head.

…my bitch.

Ellie’s.

You were made to be Ellie’s bitch.

Ellie pulled out the harnessed cock, it had a real fat, girthy shaft. With a long vein running along the underside. She drooled at the fantasy of how it’d tug against your tight rim. She slid the dick atop the split of your ass cheeks. Rutting it up and down. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but she swore she saw you roll your hips onto it.

“Fuck me. Almost forgot about her.” The brunette unslung the rifle over her shoulder and head. She threw it a small distance away from you two. The black rifle skidded amongst the twigs, then stopped. You breathed a small sigh of relief amidst your mounting panic. Releasing the terror that it could go off while she fucked herself into you.

Holding her dick against your ass really let her hips take a break from the weight of it. You were such a good doe, letting her warm it between the globes of your ass cheeks. Taking her thumb and forefinger, Ellie angled her tip down, She gave shallow thrusts, reveling in the wet slide of her cock against your labia. She just needed a few more ruts against the slick, to get it as wet as she wanted.

Nimble as ever, the hunter slightly leaned back onto her calves. The bulbous tip of her cock inched back and dragged itself down the expanse of your labia, from clit to hole. Until it caught against the rim of your hole. It barely nudged inside. But the feeling of the tip pressing against it, reflexively made your hole clench a kiss on its head. Ellie whistled at the scene.

Heaven on earth is what this was to her.

“Would you look at that? You want it huh? Can tell by how you’re sucking it in.”

It turned Ellie on so much, seeing her dick just barely touch your hole, just prolonging what you both knew was to come. She was feeling a little violent again, so Ellie cracked another sharp slap on the meat of your ass. The heat and twinge from it, made your eyes widen. A blistering handprint was left where she slapped you. Tears started burning at the back of your eyes and you gasped in a panic. Your reactive jerk from her smack, involuntarily slipped the first inch of her cock into your hole. Your slick coated just the head. Wetness was slowly starting to slip down your walls. And it dripped past the seal of your vagina and coated the top of Ellie’s tip.

Not even pornography could compare; because to the eyes of anyone who could see, the scene between you and her was in every sense of the word: obscene.

You struggled against the grass again. Giving her a beautiful performance of a hunt gone well. Doe-eyed prey shaking fitfully against the grass. Ellie’s intimidating presence dwarfed everything in its path like a dark shadow.

She draped her chest over your back and laid her cheek to rest atop your planted head. Ellie slowly lined up her freckled lips with your ears. It could’ve almost looked like a caress; a sleepy embrace between two lovers. Where one whispered ‘good morning, you up honey?’, and the other grumbled lowly ‘mhm. Just 5 more minutes my love.’

But nothing that came out of her mouth was sweet.

Ellie whispered very lowly.

“I’m begging you—to try to fight me off.”

And with that, and a ghost of a kiss to the shell of your ear; Ellie thrusted the shaft inside, groaning her own pleasure over the shout you yelped into the ground. A sudden intrusion, as alarming as that was, could only be described as malice.

She slowly pumped in more inches of her cock until she felt a strong resistance. She kept testing it, pounding sharp pumps to see if there would be any further give. Each attempt pulled a muffled “n’moh it won’ fit phleese” out of you.

You dug into the grass.

Ellie’s beautiful features transformed into a quizzical frown. Her bushy eyebrows, her full pink lips, and her usually cherubic cheeks, wrinkled in to display a strong feeling of ... .disappointment. There were at least a few inches left of her hungry cock that weren’t warmed inside that slick tight pussy hole.

Why couldn’t you take all of it?

She furrowed her brows, dug her nails tightly into the fat of your hips, and hurriedly bullied her girthy cock into you. She couldn’t help but revel in the way each thrust pulled a yelp out of you like a kicked bitch.

Maybe those weren’t yelps from your lips, but instead muffled moans….

Ellie couldn’t really tell, and regardless, she definitely didn’t care.

Her thrusts were heavy, punchy. There was no space to spare inside of you. Her shaft was molding your hole to fit around its thickness. The cockhead squished against your cervix, pulling a new type of soreness with each pull of it.

“Uhn! Uhn! Uhn! Uhn!”

You drooled on the grass. You took the rhythmic pounding up your abused cunt. Your puffy cervix was leaving wet kisses on the tip of Ellie’s dick, which pulled even more slick from the tiny donut.

“That’s right. Uhn! Uhn! Uhnn! for me baby. Cry just like that. You like being tackled and fucked rough don’t you? Sloppy cunt.”

She mocked.

She was right, it was so sloppy. Your walls were practically drooling along her shaft; and trust her, she could feel it.

Ellie slowly pulled her cock out, only to marvel upon the gorgeous coating of slick that sparkled in the early sunlight. Your milk had pooled along the veins and ridges of her shaft.

There was a creamy mousse ring that wrapped around the base of her balls, frothing from the thrusts.

Ellie had a perverted temptation to taste a bit of that milky coating. The thing was, it wasn’t new to her, she’d gotten a taste of it many times before.

Chuckling to herself, she slid it back in. But with complete knowledge of how intensely full you’d feel, Ellie leaned down to drape her chest across your back once more.

She positioned her torso atop yours, digging her fingers into the dirt on either side of your head to get a solid grip. Dried leaves and grit collected under her fingernails and painted them specks of amber and brown. Her sweaty bangs were sticking to her face now. And they curved around her hairline as she barked a laugh at each rough pounding you took, like her sweet girl.

“So fucking—”

Thrust.

“Fun”

Thrust.

“Watc-hing you—”

Thrust.

Her voice cracked, pounding you was bumping her swollen clit just right.

“Run like.”

Thrust.

“Some weak little prey.”

She replaced her grip in the dirt with finding purchase on top of your hands. She slid her fingers in between yours and interlocked them. She squeezed your fingers between her own, you weakly squeezed hers back. The hunter above you, found just the right footing to put her full body weight into fucking you, and now you felt the stretch and fullness everywhere, everywhere.

No space inside of you was spared.

Who knew hunters could be so mean?

“You feel that? Is it stretching? I wanna know if it burns.” She gruffed.

Yes, yes, and yes. A weepy eyed ‘yes’ to all three.

All you could feel was her. Her cock was nudging past the sensitive swell of your g-spot, bruising the area with her pounding.

How could you not feel it?

Every ridge of her dick pulled muted squeals out of you. And despite how much your neglected clit cried for attention and touch from between its sloppy lips, there was a fiercely intense pleasure that radiated around your body. And the evidence was the strings of glossy slick drooled onto the grass patch below you two. The same slick ran down the underhaft of her cock as she pumped inside you, and collected at the base of her heavy balls. Balls that were building a bruise on your ass, with each stinging connect of her hips to your butt.

Ellie’s sighs and moans were pitching a variation of high and low tones. Huffing like a dog in heat because of how good it felt to be inside of you.

God, the strap was fucking her back. Her brain was growing fuzzy, heavy, needy.

Catching her prey to fuck it, had her mind unraveling.

Who was the bitch now?

“H-hey.” She breathed out

“Your sloppy hole feels s’good. Tiny, tiny pussy clamping on my cock. You making me work for it baby? Work hard to fu— fuck inside of you.”

She screwed her eyes shut. The intensity grew stronger.

“I’ll work as hard as I need to stu-stuff your sloppy holes” she slurred. Her green irises rolled to the back of her head.

Ellie’s grip on top of your hand considerably tightened, which had seemed almost impossible, given their already iron lock.

Ellie rolled her pale hips in shallow circles, grinding inside of you. The friction against your g-spot was dizzying, and from where your nose was shoved in the grass, you grew lightheaded.

As Ellie’s cock made your walls plump and swell, Your vision was slowly growing spotty. Little black dots were dancing across the expanse of your vision. It was unfortunate how little you could breathe, because the barks of pain and whimpers of pleasure that you wanted to release would’ve made Ellie cum on the spot right then.

“Love your pretty pussy. It’s pretty, it’s all mine. All for me. Tiny hole that I get to stuff full of dick—wanna chase and stuff you every day. I wanna be the only one in-inside you. Does my dick hurt your tummy? Want it to hurt you so good. Sorry, m’sorry, but I-I want it to hurt so good.”

Ellie was frantic and erratic. Fever brained and pussy drunk beyond the horizon. She sloppily slurred all her little fantasies in your ear.

The edges of your vision were graying out, your eyes glazed. If Ellie had noticed, she didn’t care.

Instead she obsessed herself with the way she was molding a home for her thick cock in your puffy walls. The same walls were puffy and deep pink inside.

Each thrust from her slender hips was like a zing that dragged pleasure down the ribbed walls. Pressure was building up severely in your tummy, and you were overcome with a strong urge to clamp.

You choked your last whimpering moan into the dirt, and finally let the tension go. Slick milky cum seeped from the seal of your sensitive hole and burst onto the base of her dick. It was frothing and glossy.

Your eyelids grew suddenly heavy. Your vision was tunneling, there was a gray and fuzzy halo around it that obstructed its clarity. You could only make out blurry shapes and colors, only the soft light of the day, just before you relaxed and sleepily went limp.

You had been fucked into a heavy slumber, yet your lower half was still being held up by the girl with the cock inside of you.

She didn’t let up.

Ellie kept fucking you. Frantic and greedy for her own orgasm in your pussy. She needed to be inside of it just a little longer.

She picked up her pace, relishing in the sweet feel of the cockbase smacking her clit. Ellie felt the same pressure in her own vagina rising. Her clit was just as swollen, just as puffy, just as wet and glossy as your hole was on the inside. And Ellie sought a few more angry thrusts to get her over the edge. She snapped her hips forward, and each time you jerked forward in the grass, with your lips forming an “o” and your eyes gently closed.

Thrust.

“Fuck!”

Thrust.

“Please please please.”

Thrust.

“—Prett-pretty my pretty pussy all mine.”

Thrust.

“Sososo tight.”

Thrust.

“Ughhhh!…”

A groan grizzled from her throat.

Ellie squirted spurts of her release down her thighs. Her eyeballs rolled backwards until they were white and veiny, and her hips stuttered with each squirt.

She came all over her skinny jeans.

Her chest rose and fell dramatically as she sucked in deep gulps of air. Ellie’s toned abs contracted with her breathing, clenching and relaxing. Over and over did the muscles dance until her breathing slowly steadied itself.

The hunter pulled out of you and tucked herself back inside her jeans. She barely zipped her pants up, leaving the slick base of her veiny dick still visible to the world’s eyes. She couldn't find it within herself to care, not even a tiny bit.

The NULA rifle was strewn amongst the grass, and its owner walked the short distance to pick it up from the grass. She picked it clean. Wiping the dirt off of it, and blowing off the stuck grass. She stationed the NULA by her hip again, and walked back towards your limp body.

Crescent moon sharpie doodles were scribbled onto the dirty toe box of her converses. The doodles you’d drawn for her one frigid October evening, an entire calendar year ago.

Ellie had found that so endearing, but even then she had been too shy to admit it at the time.

She surely wasn’t shy now.

Despite the fact that her preferred celestial body was still stars, she still held your insistence on decorating her shoes, near and dear to her heart. It had been one of those slow and scary, ‘I think I’m falling in love with you’ moments, that had pivoted the direction of your relationship, unbeknownst to either of you.

Ellie took those same converses and nudged your shoulder. Several times in fact.

In your deep slumber, your body had only moved with the motion of her foot.

A whistle twinkled from her pout.

“….And you’re out cold.”

She reached for your arm “okay come on—get up.” And slung you over her shoulder. It was awkward, it wasn’t easy. The sniper wanted about as much space on Ellie’s slender frame as you did. But she had to make it work. Better than patrollers finding you in the grass with your ass split wide open and your pussy dripping slick like a snail. So she dragged her feet as she carried you, and held the gun parallel to her body.

But she managed to make it work.

She managed all the way to the gates. where she slipped through the back. Your privacy was something she could never risk, no matter how much she reveled in this game.

She managed into Jackson town.

And then into her house, and then into her room, and then into her bed where she tucked you under the covers, so you could sleep the adrenaline and full body orgasm off.

The lull in her messy room was quiet.

It felt like no more than a warm hub, for you and your bold lover. Ellie was tired to her bones, but she worked on the keys of her guitar as you slept.

You’d mewled in your sleep from time to time. And she felt slightly guilty, slightly. She knew you’d wake up just fine. With a bad limp and maybe an attitude to last the day, but still mostly fine.

Ellie dropped her chin onto the guitar, and rolled herself back and forth in her chair.

She mulled over it in her mind, how it’d be kinder of her to just…pull back from time to time. Just so you weren’t wincing in your sleep from the ache. But then she pouted; unsure of herself.

Didn’t you like it when she was mean?

She plucked a key, F major, then B minor. A momentary pause, before her nails hesitantly strummed the strings. They still didn’t sound right. So she tuned them again.

She broke her gaze away from the strings to briefly check on you. You were a sniffling lump underneath her sky blue sheets.

Her chest squeezed at the image.

She knew it was sappy, it was lame. It was the feeling of impassioned affection; of love.

“I know you’ll love this one, whenever you decide to wake up…dork.” She teased.

Ellie strummed the string once again, meditating on the key. She cleared her throat, and whisper-sung her favorite part.

“Shall I stay? Would it be a sin, if I can’t help…” she sucked in a breath, and her cheeks dusted pink. Embarrassed even with no one to bare witness. But this song had best encompassed the ocean of her feelings.

“…Falling in love with you.”

She dropped her head against the body of her guitar.

And smiled into it.

-fin-

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babydollmarauders · 10 months ago

Text

THE START OF IT ALL — JACK HUGHES

part of the el!hughes au

summary: how jack and y/n (lovie) met, through the grace of quinn

warnings: bad parental guidance, small mention of body insecurities and anxiety. (4k words)

notes: a well overdue fic! i’m so thankful to you guys for being patient with me as i navigate writing in my hectic new reality of college and working full time! <3

goosebumps trail my exposed skin, the chilling air of the practice rink nipping from my lack of sweater.

the sound of skates scraping against the ice rings in my ears, mingling with the bangs of sticks hitting against pucks and creating an oddly peaceful soundtrack for my meditation.

my feet are killing me.

capezio tights stretch across my legs, making them shimmer in the fluorescent lighting of the rink, and a black leotard hugs my body, neatly pulled together with a pink wrap skirt. ballet flats adorn my feet, my pointe shoes laying idly in my dance bag in the seat beside me as i watch the national development team practice.

it feels like so long ago that i came and watched my first practice; the one fateful day of september seeming light years away now. but in reality it was only a mere couple months ago that a group of us dance girls had decided to walk down the block and watch a practice.

Natalie and Thalia wanted to check out the guys, and me? i just didn’t want to be left out. but then watching one practice turned into watching two, and then three, and before i knew it, it became a regular occurrence. it didn’t matter anymore that the girls lost interest and no longer tagged along, in fact, i enjoyed the time spent alone.

this became my safe haven; no dance partners to critique my fouettés, no parents whispering in my ear that i’m not doing well enough in school or that i’m not practicing my dances enough or that i need to go on a diet because i don’t look as pristine or perfect in my leotard as the other girls do. just me and the sounds of several sixteen year old boys whipping pucks into the net and gliding around the ice.

as the piercing sound of a whistle slices through my peace, i know that afternoon practice has ended, my serene escape over until tomorrow.

as the team shuffles off the ice and back into their locker room, i revel in the silence for a little while, taking the moment to change from my flats to sneakers; the twenty-seven minute trek home will be a lot more terrain than the five minute one from the ballet studio to the rink, and a lot harder on my shoes.

pushing up from my seat, my hand wraps around the strap of my dance bag, slinging it over my shoulder as i slide through the rows of seats. my feet squeak against the cement steps, two at a time until i reach the exit floor.

pushing through the glass doors, i slip out into the crisp November air, ducking my head as i walk past a group of players that stand around their cars after practice, hair damp from post-practice showers. a few more players can be heard slamming the doors of their cars, obviously in much more of a rush to get home than their teammates.

it only takes five minutes of walking for me to become paranoid, a black GMC following behind me with every turn i make. my heart stutters with anxiety, my pace speeding as i attempt to shake the fear that rakes my body.

but as i speed up, so does the car, until finally the drivers window rolls down as they drive at a pace similar to my walking speed. inside is a teenage boy, a familiar face that i know i’ve seen on the ice of the usntdp rink.

“hey, you watch our practices.” it’s a statement, he knows i do, i assume a lot of them know. it’s kind of hard to miss the thirteen year old girl sitting alone in the stands every afternoon.

i stop, turning towards the boy as i nod in response.

“i always see you walking home, do you want a ride?” he asks before his eyes widen, stumbling over words, “wait, i just realized how that sounds— i’m not trying to kidnap you, i swear! you just live a few houses down, i figured i’d save you some time.”

i’m aware that my answer might be stupid and not very well thought out, but in this moment, i truthfully don’t care— the boy seems trustworthy, an odd sense of warmth radiating from him, so i nod again.

“yes, please.”

his head nods in the direction of the passengers side, unlocking the doors as he tells me to hop in; and i do so, slipping into the seat and hastily pulling the seatbelt across my body.

“i’m Quinn,” he introduces, a hand held out in front of me, “i play for the national development team.”

“i know,” i hum out, shaking his hand, “i’m y/n.”

Quinn steps lightly on the gas pedal, continuing the route to our apparently shared street.

“so, why do you come to the practices?” he questions, and though the question itself sounds a little judgy, his tone is soft, “at first i assumed maybe you were a sister, but then i’ve never seen you with any of the guys.”

i watch as the trees pass by in a blur through the window, my hands fidgeting with the strap of my dance bag that sits on the floor between my feet.

“it’s peaceful.” i confess, making him throw me a lopsided smirk mixed in with furrowed brows, “i don’t really get along with any of the girls in my ballet class, and my parents don’t get home from work until dinner time. its nice to just kill some time and listen to the sounds of the skates on the ice and the pucks hitting the net.”

Quinn hums as though he understands me, and for once, it actually feels like someone does. we’ve barely spoken to each other, we’ve only just met, but for once in my life, i feel as though someone isn’t judging me or about to tell me what i could do better.

“i get it.” he shrugs, “so, have you been a hockey fan, or are you just a little oddball and like the sounds?”

a small smile spreads across my lips, a laugh escaping at his joke, and Quinn garners an appearance of pride at making me laugh. his chest puffs out just slightly, his posture straightening and a smirk resting on his lips.

“i am,” i nod, before i realize i should clarify, “a hockey fan. i’m a hockey fan.”

it’s Quinn’s turn to chuckle now, eyes flickering towards me before they settle back on the road ahead, “but i get the feeling you are a little oddball, aren’t you? or at least maybe some other people think so.”

the vibe in the car turns stony, my body tensing.

“yeah,” i drop my eyes to my hands, finding great interest in the dirtied white color of my bag strap, “i prefer to keep to myself, you know? it feels like all everyone tells me is how i can do better. how i can perfect my dances, or how i’m so pretty but i would be so much prettier if i did this or that, or how despite straight A’s and a 4.0 GPA, there’s more i could do to get into a stupid ivy league that i don’t wanna go to-”

i suck in a deep breath, cutting off my rambles prematurely, because here i was dumping all my insecurities and problems on a boy three years my senior and who i’ve only just met.

“i’m sorry, those are some shitty people.” Quinn frowns, a hand tightening just slightly around the steering wheel.

“that was all my parents.”

“fuck,” he curses, glancing over at me quickly with wide eyes as we turn onto our street, “your parents said all that?”

i shrug, nodding my head, “it’s what a parent does, right? they criticize you to be the best you can be. the girls in dance aren’t much better.”

Quinn parks the car in front of what i assume is his billet house, turning in his seat to face me properly.

“a parent should guide you to be the best version of yourself, not criticize you until you become the person they want you to be.”

his words repeat in my head, my brows threading together as i hum in acknowledgment of his statement.

rather than truly respond, i unbuckle my seatbelt, pushing the door open as i gather my bag from the floor.

“thank you for the ride, Quinn. sorry for dumping all my problems on you.”

i don’t give him a chance to respond, hopping out of the car and slinging my bag over my shoulder as i shut the door.

i’m only one house away when i hear him yell, “hey! same time tomorrow?”

i spin around confused, finding him standing next to the car with his hockey bag slung over his own shoulder.

“what?”

“same time tomorrow! i’ll drive you home!” he smiles gently, before giving a small wave and heading into his house.

what the fuck just happened? did i just make a new friend?

***

my entire body aches, my toes in particular feeling incredibly sore due to the bruised skin that covers them, but i push through.

only a week until the spring performance and i still don’t feel that my solo is where it should be. my pointe shoes make my toes prick with pain, but over time, the pain turns into a stinging numbness.

my reflection stares back at me in the mirrored wall, a frustrated puff of air passing through my parted lips. my tutu caresses my arms as i let them fall to my sides, lowering back down to flat feet.

in the mostly empty building, i can hear the ring of the bell above the front entrance followed by muffled conversation approaching the private room i currently occupy.

i walk over to the chair that holds my things, my brows furrowing as i check the time. i still have five minutes until Quinn is due to pick me up. that gives me more than enough time to run through the solo once more.

walking over to the barre, i flex my feet a couple of times. but before i can begin to dance, i’m bombarded by the sound of conversation.

“what are we doing at a dance studio?” a male voice echoes through the building, grumbling in obvious annoyance.

“i told you, i have to pick up a friend.” i recognize that voice immediately; Quinn. my close friend of four months.

“a girlfriend?” i scrunch my nose at the other person’s question, part of me wanting to shout out that i can hear them.

“a girl that’s a friend, yeah. more like a little sister.” a heated blush rises to my cheeks, a smile spreading across my lips.

he thinks of me as a sister.

a knock sounds against the door of the private room before it creaks open, Quinn’s head popping in.

“hey, twinkle toes, you ready to go?” he smiles warmly, his eyes sparking with care as he eyes my outfit, “nice tutu.”

“you’ve seen this one before.” i giggle but it quickly dies off into a sigh as i think about how much work i still need to put into the dance, “give me one sec?”

“yeah, go for it.” he nods, “mind if i come in?”

“come on in.”

closing my eyes, i take a deep breath, tuning out the sounds of Quinn and his company entering the room. breathing out, i enter fifth position.

plié, passé relevé, back down to fifth position, my eyes open as i run through the rest of the dance, focusing on my core and watching myself in the mirror.

my sight flickers to Quinn, a smile on his face as he watches me dance, and for a moment i feel so proud of myself. but then my sights set on the boy beside him.

fluffy dirty blond hair mussed atop of his head, beauty marks dotting across his soft features, and beautiful blue eyes that watch my figure. he’s the prettiest boy i’ve ever seen.

i stutter in my steps, suddenly nervous and self conscious in front of the unfamiliar face, and before i can fix my form, i buckle under his stare; missing a step before my ankle twists, a sharp tinge of pain shooting up my leg as i stumble back down onto flat feet.

“shit.” i whimper, my facial features contorting in pain as i flex my ankle, gauging my pain level.

“are you okay?” Quinn stammers, eyes wide in concern, “what happened?”

“i’m fine,” i sigh. walking over to my bag, i pull my flats out and sit on the chair, beginning the process of taking off my pointe shoes, “i just got a little distracted.”

“distracted?” Quinn repeats, confusion plaguing his features before he looks back at his company, his lips quirking into a smirk, “y/n, this is my brother, Jack. Jack, this is y/n.”

my face heats under the heavy gaze of Jack’s blue eyes, his shoes tapping against the floor as he steps forward, extending a hand in front of me.

“hi.”

he smiles and it’s as though the whole world slowed, as though the universe was saying ‘look. look at him. perfection personified amidst your very eyes.’

“hi, it’s nice to meet you.” my hand slips into his, shaking lightly before i pull away, distracting myself by continuing my endeavors of changing my shoes.

Quinn and Jack share whispered huffs, mumbled words between the two of them as i slip my flats on, shoving my pointe shoes in my bag.

i stand now, removing my tutu and holding it carefully, leaving me in only my tights and leotard.

“i’m ready.” they both look over at me, Quinn nodding in acknowledgment before he turns and wordlessly begins walking out, leaving his brother and i to fall in line behind him.

“so how did you guys meet?” Jack asks me as we step out of the private room, his voice hushed.

“i go watch the development program practices a lot, Quinn saw me walking home and offered me a ride.”

“you like hockey?” he raises a brow as he looks over at me with a bright grin.

“mhm.” i hum, “i’ve watched it my whole life. my dad is a red wings fan.”

we exit the building, following Quinn to his car.

“good team.” Jack replies, his voice far off, eyes staring ahead as though deep in thought; and i assume that’s the end of our conversation until he speaks again, “i liked your dance. pretty.”

blood rushes to the apples of my cheeks and i bite my lip to hold back a smile, “thanks.”

i pull open the car door as Quinn unlocks it, climbing into the back seat so that Jack can sit up front with his brother. but i’m surprised when he joins me in the back, earning a look from Quinn.

it’s silent as Quinn starts the car, pulling out from the parking space and out of the lot.

“so,” Jack starts, gaining my attention once more, “you dance and you like hockey, what else should i know about you?”

i ponder the question for a moment before i look over at him, “there’s not much to tell. i’m an only child, i like taylor swift, i don’t know.”

“well what do you and your friends do for fun? do you wanna be a ballerina when you graduate?” he turns towards me, letting me know i have his full attention.

“i only have one friend.” i shrug, “Quinn. and he and i usually just hang out at his billet house or at the rink. he’s been teaching me to skate.

“as for the ballerina thing, i don’t think so. i love dancing, but i don’t want it to be my life.”

Jack hums, nodding his head in thought before his lips part again, “give me your phone.”

“what?”

“gimme your phone.” he makes a grabby hand, waiting for me to pull my phone out of my bag before i set it in his palm.

he turns it on, getting in easily with my lack of password, and quickly types something before handing it back.

“two.” he smirks.

“what?” my face punches in confusion.

“you have two friends now.” i look down at my phone, a new contact open with his number inputted in.

“okay.” i smile, not quite sure how to react to this gorgeous boy wanting to be my friend. it’s a new feeling that i’m not quite used to.

the car is silent as we pull onto Quinn and i’s street, but if i remember correctly, he’s staying at a hotel with his dad for the next couple of days.

“hey, twinkle toes.” Quinn calls out from the drivers seat.

“yeah?”

“you still coming to the game tomorrow?”

“i plan on it.” i tell him.

“alright, you’ll be sitting with my dad and Jack.” he informs me, “Jack, you good to wait for her at the entrance to take her to your guys’ seats?”

Quinn stops in front of my house, unlocking the doors.

“yeah, sure.” Jack confirms, watching as i exit the vehicle, “i’ll see you tomorrow.”

“see you tomorrow!” i smile. i shut the door, Quinn’s window rolling down as he calls out a goodbye, “bye, snuggles!”

i can hear Jack snort out a laugh as i walk away, a wheezed echo of “snuggles?!” coming from the back seat.

“shut it, Rowdy.” Quinn grumbles, rolling up his window before peeling away.

***

thirty minutes.

i spent thirty long minutes picking out my outfit for tonight. when i originally said i would go to Quinn’s game, i had just planned on wearing a USA Hockey sweatshirt and some leggings; but now that i’ve met Jack and know i’ll be with him? i refused to dress down so much.

descending the stairs of my house, my mother peers over the back of the couch, her hair in a tight bun and her laptop in her lap, slaving over a law case with files piled beside her.

“what are you so dressed up for?” she inquires, her glasses sitting low on the bridge of her nose.

“i have Quinn’s game tonight.” i walk around the couch to stand in front of her, my nikes shuffling along the area rug.

“i’m so proud of you.” she smiles, and for a moment i’m left to ponder where this could go, “you’re finally taking a care to how you present yourself.”

and there it is; the subtle jab. it can never be a real compliment, there’s always gonna be the underlying insult muddled in somewhere.

“are you going with friends?” she questions, her focus falling back on the open computer screen in her lap.

“kinda?” i’m not quite sure what to call Jack, he said we’re friends, but we also don’t actually know each other.

“kinda?” my mother echoes in wonder, looking back up at me as i wander into the kitchen to retrieve a water bottle.

“yeah. i met Quinn’s brother yesterday, the one a year older than me?” i start, “i’m sitting with him and their dad at the game. i don’t think i would call us friends really, but we exchanged numbers yesterday.”

my mother sighs, pushing her glasses atop of her head in order to pinch the bridge of her nose.

“does this boy play that brutal game too?”

my mind wanders back to what Quinn has told me about his family in the past, “yeah, they all do.”

“oh y/n, don’t get too wrapped up in these boys. they won’t do you any good.” she tells me, “find a nice boy, one who wants to do something substantial with his life.”

“we’re just friends, mom. it’s not like anything is gonna happen.”

“but you want it to.” she narrows her eyes, waving her finger towards me, “i can see it. mother’s intuition. don’t fall for this boy.”

who is she to tell me who i should fall for? she and dad barely even speak anymore. i wouldn’t even call what they have, love.

“it’s just going to a hockey game, mom. their dad is gonna be there too.” i sigh, “i gotta go.”

“how are you getting there?” she asks, “are they picking you up?”

“no,” i shake my head, “dad said he would drive me.”

her brows furrow, “your dad had to go into work.”

i gape at her, a blank look covering my face. i shouldn’t be shocked, this happens all the time. it’s the same reason i walk home from ballet, or why i’ve come to rely on Quinn to pick me up for school. but somehow, it still always feels like a cut to the heart.

my mother sighs, shutting her laptop and rising from her seat, “i’ll drive you. come on.”

“you would think he would try and spend more time with you. but it’s always work with that one. work then family.” she mutters, ranting to herself as she slips her shoes on, grabbing her keys from the dish on the entryway table.

i fall in line slowly behind her, dreading this car ride already; because it appears it’s one of those days. the days where my mother will do anything to appear better in my eyes than my father. including talking down about him to me in hopes to make me more upset with him than i already am.

and i was correct. the entire drive was spent with me sitting silently in the passengers seat, watching my surroundings pass by as she went on and on about all of the things my father has done wrong in the past week.

i couldn’t get out of the car quick enough, nearly breaking the car door off its hinges as i throw it open. calling out a goodbye to my mother and assuring her that yes, Quinn would be driving me home afterwards, i slam the door shut and jog towards the arena entrance.

slowing down upon the sight of the glass doors, my body lights up, butterflies flutter in my stomach as i spot Jack in the lobby just through the doors. he wears jeans and a gray hoodie, converse tied to his feet, and he looks down at his phone, glancing up every few moments.

when his eyes land on me through the clear glass, a friendly smile spreads across his lips, slipping his phone into his pocket and taking a few steps towards the door, propping it open for me.

“hey!” he chimes as i reach the entrance, “puck should drop soon! i was gonna text you to check in but, i didn’t wanna push anything.”

my heart rate picks up, my cheeks burning at the idea of seeing Jack’s name pop up on my phone, “you can text me any time.”

Jack’s smile drops into a smirk, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief and amusement, “i’ll keep that in mind.”

“our seats are this way.” Jack begins pushing through the lingering people in our way, many not paying any attention to the people in their way as they try and navigate towards their own seats.

for a second, i’m pushed away from him, worry flooding my mind as i think of how i’ll try and find our seats if i lose him. but then he looks back at me, his eyes finding mine, and he must see the anxiety that fills my body, because it’s not a moment later that his hand finds mine.

his hand slips into mine, interlacing our fingers as he gently tugs me closer to him as he walks, a reassuring quirk to his lips, “i got you. it’s okay.”

and somehow, all my worry melts away, just like that. for some reason, i feel like he’s telling the truth; it’ll be okay.

there’s something about Jack’s presence that calms my nerves. that makes me feel okay. and it sounds utterly insane because i’ve known him for all of twenty-four hours, but i feel like i can truly trust him.

as we reach our seats, Jack sitting next to his dad with me beside him, he still never lets go of me. instead, he rests our hands on his thigh, glancing over at me to gauge my reaction before he speaks.

“you okay?”

and finally, for once, i’m telling the truth, “yeah.”

#el!hughes au #jack hughes #jack hughes fic #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nj devils #faithlynn’s writings <3

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romaevelizz · 26 days ago

Text

Sandpaper ˖ ࣪⊹

Carter Dutton-Wheeler & oc!Crystal Maverick

1.) Miss Mav

sum: June had finally started meaning people would be coming and going from the ranch. Carter was excited to watch cowboys come and go from the ranch. Little did he know he’d be meeting a family friend that would be staying for the summer. The bunkhouse quickyly giving him shit for his little girl crush, little did he know just how close this family friend was.

warnings: cursing, Orginal characters! non-canon storyline! Not thoroughly proofread.

The sun had not yet begun to rise, casting a soft, dusky light over the rugged mountain peaks, but Carter was already awake and preparing for the day ahead. The scent of coffee mingled with the aroma of sizzling bacon wafted through the air as the bunkhouse came to life. The morning air was filled with a quiet anticipation, and conversations were just starting to bubble up among the occupants. Carter moved through the small, cluttered space, collecting his thoughts and his breakfast. He glanced at his bunkmates with a hint of amusement. Teeter was playfully flirting with Colby, herthick accent ringing out like a bright chime, while Colby, his cheeks flushed with joy, grinned from ear to ear, clearly enjoying the attention. In another corner, Lloyd and Ryan were engaged in their usual banter, teasing Jake mercilessly as they sipped their steaming cups of coffee. Carter couldn’t help but chuckle at their antics, feeling a warmth in his chest as camaraderie filled the room.

The atmosphere shifted slightly as Rip made his entrance, his presence commanding immediate attention. A hush fell over the bunkhouse as everyone turned to see what was planned for the day. He moved purposefully, and when he reached Carter, he offered a reassuring pat on the shoulder. It was a simple gesture, yet it spoke volumes about their relationship. Carter met Rip’s gaze with a grateful smile, in many ways, Rip had become more of a father to Carter than his biological dad ever was. With every shared moment and every word, Rip had given Carter a sense of belonging and support that he had longed for. As the day began to unfold, Carter felt a deep sense of gratitude for this second chance ata life.

“Alright, well be having people coming in today I need bout, four stalls cleaned and set up,” he spoke up his gaze shifting to Carter as he said the last part. “We have family coming in needles to say, some of y'all know 'em and some of ya will just be meeting them. They're guest of Mr. Dutton treat them with respect.” he finished off the team nodding.

Carter cast a wary glance around, trying to gauge who was approaching. Rip had just wrapped up giving orders, and one by one, the others began to disperse, their footsteps echoing against the ground. With a sense of purpose, Carter moved to the stable, quickly getting to work on saddling the horses. As he tightened the girth and adjusted the stirrups, the distant rumble of a truck engine broke the stillness, its sound growing louder as it drew nearer. Finally seeing the truck it wasn't just one but two, two GMCs pulling horse trailers, one black, the other white. He let out a low whistle at the nice trucks. His eyes wandered curiously his gaze being shaped away hearing Rip yell at him.

“Boy! I need them stalled cleaned, get on it!” Rip hollered getting off his horse.

Without a moment's hesitation, Carter made his way directly to the stalls. The air was thick with the earthy scent of hay and the faint sound of rustling hooves. He rolled up his sleeves, he began to clear away the old bedding, gathering clumps of straw and manure into a wheelbarrow. The warmth of the sunlight filtering through the open barn door cast a golden hue on the wooden beams as he meticulously cleaned each stall, ensuring that everything was fresh and tidy for the animals that would stay in them. He heard the unfamiliar voices of people talking, the sound of hoves entering the barn getting louder before he stepped out of the stall. He Came face to face with a teenage boy his age, an older guy and Rip, bringing in three horses.

“This is Carter, he's mine,” Rip spoke half introducing him.

“Hello.” Carter smiled at the two.

“Hey! I'm Micheal, you can call me Mikey.” the younger boy introduced himself shaking Carter's hand. Mikey was pretty tall bout six feet like himself, he was black, his hair short clean fade on the sides but a hat backward on his head covering the small pit of hair he had on top. He seemed to be pretty strong a tone build not too skinny but a bit smaller than Carter. He wore a black tee shirt with a logo that Said ‘Maverick ranches’ inside a star, and some washed-out wranglers and boots.

“I am Elijah Maverick, his father. Thank you for cleaning up for us we got two other horses to bring in.” he smiled shaking the boy's hand. Now that was a big Man. He easily made Carter nervous though he was nothing but kind and even smiled at him, He was taller than his son and Rip maybe bout six-three, a dad-built with huge shoulders and arms he was muscular, to say the least. The Tan button-up shirt his sleeves rolled up with a different logo that Said Maverick Ranch kind of reminded him of the top gun logo but kinda different, but it was black showing the tattoo sleeves on his arms.

“Its a pleasure to meet you guys, do you need help with the other horses.” Carter asked wanting to be helpful.

Elijah let out a small chuckle at his eggness “No its alright, My daughter and her friend are out on them helping your cowboys for fun.” he spoke shaking his head.

He had a daughter? He thought meeting Mikeys eyes he asked “She older?”

Mikey scoffed “ She’ll tell you she is but only by like— seven minutes.” he rolled his eyes.

“Shes your twin? Wow that's cool.” Carter grinned.

“You could say” Mikey smiled, “you ride man?”

Carter nodded “Nice maybe you could show us around a bit haven't been here since we were kids.” Mikey explained.

“Sure id love too, but I don't get off till later this evening.” Carter shrugged.

“Hey no worries! We got some work to do, my sister in ropeing this summer so we got errans to run.”

She Ropes! The phrase hinted that she might rodeo a bit. The conversation between the three faded, and they stepped outside, with Carter trailing closely behind. He strolled toward the fence, where he could see them skillfully herding the cattle. His attention was immediately captured by an impressive all-black gelding, which glided smoothly across the landscape. Sitting atop the horse was a dark toned girl whose long, mixed-color braids of different browns and blonds were woven into a single, thick braid thatmoved as she maneuvered with practiced ease. She commanded the horse effortlessly, guiding the cattle with precision. She wore of a snug pink t-shirt with a Maverick Ranch logothe shirt highlighted her curved frame, paired with light-washed boot-cut True Religion jeans that hugged her legs comfortably. A pair of boots on her feet, complementing the rugged ensemble. Cinched around her waist was a stylish belt, adorned with a gleaming buckle—perhaps a trophy from a recent victory.

As Carter's gaze shifted to her face, he couldn’t help but notice how striking she was. A wide, radiant smile lit up her features, radiating confidence as she worked the herd. Her youthful appearance was enhanced by several piercings; both nostrils and ears displayed shimmering gold jewelry that suggested a sense of maturity. On her head was a light tan felt hat, which she adjusted with a quick flick of her hand as she turned to listen for her name being called in the distance.

“Well shit miss. Mav you can cowboy better than Jake here!” Lloyd complimented the young girl.

Her laughter bubbled up, bright and infectious, and it brought a small, genuine smile to Carter's face.

“Crystal, mere!” he heard a deep voice say next to him.

She quickly made her way over the fence, “Hi daddy!”

“Hi baby, wanna intriduce you to Carter, take it you met some of Rips new boys.”

She hummed nodding her head “But this is Carter, he Beth and Rips kid.” he spoke.

Carter watch as she raided a brow “They took me in.” he spoke up clearing her confusion.

“Ohhh- that makes a bit more since, Nice to meet you Carter! I'm Crystal, how old are you?” she asked quickly.

“Im 16 turn 17 in july.” he said.

“Nice! Bit older than Tate.” she spoke.

Her head looked over her shoulder again “Sorry I started helping them wanna finish up before I come out! But again it's nice to meet you good to know there are kids our age here so I wo t be stuck with those old farts.” she giggled motioning towards Lloyd and Jake.

He nodded “No worries I get it I gotta get back to work myself, nice to meet you Ma'am.”

She flashed him a radiant smile one final time before returning to her work, a gesture so warm and genuine that it felt contagious. Carter couldn’t help but feel the corners of his mouth tug upwards into a grin. The brightness of her expression seemed to light up the room, and perhaps it was a tad too apparent, as he caught Lloyd’s gaze across the space. Lloyd was watching him with a knowing chuckle, the corners of his lips twitching in amusement at Carter's unintentional display of infatuation.

“Don't let that sweet smile fool you, kid; she's quite the handful,” Elijah chuckled, a glimmer of mischief dancing in his eyes as he warned the young boy. His heart swelled with love for his daughter, a whirlwind of energy who had a delightful knack for turning the ordinary into the extraordinary. With her vibrant personality, she commanded attention wherever she went—her laughter rang out like a cheerful melody, and her outgoing nature was unmistakable.

Though her smile was disarmingly charming, Elijah knew that beneath that veneer lay a fierce spirit capable of surprising even the hardiest of souls. Her words often spilled forth without hesitation, and it was her fearless confidence that sometimes left adults taken aback. She could rope and ride with an expertise that rivaled seasoned cowboys, effortlessly outshining those who had spent years honing their craft. Every time she mounted her horse, it was as if the wild spirit of the West surged through her veins, and Elijah couldn’t help but beam with pride at the audacity and joy with which she embraced life.

“Common miss. Mav shows em whatcha got.” Walker spoke.

Carter's mind drifted as he pondered the unusual nickname, "Miss Mav." The curious title echoed in his thoughts, leaving him with a sense of intrigue. He couldn't help but wonder about its origin and what it revealed about her character. Yet, he decided to put that question aside for now, focusing instead on the moment at hand.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow across the landscape, the day began to draw to a close. The Mavericks had ventured out for a while, promising to return later, leaving behind a lively atmosphere in the bunkhouse. Inside, the boys gathered, their laughter echoing off the wooden walls as they shared stories and teased one another. Teeter, seemed particularly taken with Crystal, affectionately referring to her as “my girl.” The friendly ribbing continued as they playfully jabbed at Jake, tasing that the young girl had outdone him in their cowboy activities that day.

Carter still curios he was still a bit out of the loop regarding the Mavericks. When he inquired about them, Lloyd took the opportunity to share tales of their impressive ranch located up in Oregon, not quite as expansive as Yellowstone, but substantial nonetheless. He painted a vivid picture of the Tillamook area, where the Mavericks cultivated a diverse array of animals—goats, chickens, and horses. This conversation reignited the question that had been lingering in Carte's mind,.

“Why do you guys call her ‘Miss. Mav’?” he asked.

Lloyed chuckled “Just respect really, a nickname that has been with her for years. She was a bossy thing when she was younger and hung around here. Shit I mean she still is. They call her that in the rodeo to just kinda stuck Mr. Dutton started it really.” he finished.

Carter nodded, his gaze drifting away from Lloyd, his thoughts lingering on their recent interaction. He recalled the moment when she was putting her horse away, a vivid picture in his mind. Her spirited chatter had flowed effortlessly, yet he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being scrutinized, as if he were in the hot seat. The way she tilted her head, a delicate movement that drew attention to the soft curves of her features, captivated him. Her eyes, bright and intent, locked onto his with a piercing focus, making him acutely aware of every word he uttered. An unsettling mix of nerves and intrigue bubbled within him, leaving him both breathless and contemplative.

He watched her as she bikers with her horse as one would with a person made him laugh, “Why do argue with him like he can understand you.” Carter asked laughing a bit and closing the stall as she stepped out.

“Hes like a giant dog who has no manners.” she scoffed glaring at her horse.

He chuckled a bit watching the horse wander around the unfamiliar stall before sticking his head out and going for her hat. Crystal quickly grabbing her hat from him, “Can you not! Can't you see in having a conversation!”

Her horse shook his head almost in a mocking manner “Take it he's a handful when y'all aren't actually showing?”

“Handful is an understatement Theo is a Boy dog with leg extensions.” she laughed a bit.

Their eyes met, “so whatcha doing tonight Carter?” she asked putting her hand behind her back.

Carter scracthed his neck nervously as she stepped a bit closer to him, “Well.. Uh nothin much, just plan on turning in for the night having dinner with my family tonight.”

She hummed “ Ouu sounds fun so ill see you at dinner then! Maybe after-”

“Cryst! Let's go!” Mikey yelled into the barn, his voice stopped quickly seeing them close.

“Hey! You leave that poor boy alone!” Mikey yelled.

Her head shaped over to her brother scoffing “Shut up Michael! Can't I have friends!” she finish shoot ping her hands up in a shrug expression.

“Carter run while you can!” he spoke, a small playful scream leaving him as he quickly ran back as he saw his sister start to move towards him.

She looked back quickly waving at Carter and smiling at him “Bye Carter I’ll see you at dinner!” she spoke quickly before turning back and running out of the barn.

Coming back out of though he laughed a bit to himself his eyes looking up meeting Ryans. He sat up quickly looking around “ What?” he asked.

“Oh nothing, just watching you smile to yourself over there like a lil weirdo.” Ryan spoke shrugging his shoulders.

“What no! Am I really?” he asked quickly.

“Ye’ yet are” Teeter grinned, “Thinkin’ bout’ lil miss Mav huh?” Teeter spoke to the boy.

Carter shook he head standing up “No its not like that, just not used to talking to kids my age and having some around is nice..”

Lloyd hummed mockingly “mmhmm, Thats why you waited a hole hour after just to unsaddle her horse.”

“I was being nice.”

The bunkhouse erupted into a chorus of laughter, the sound echoing off the wooden walls. A playful teasing filled the air as the boy, his cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and delight, exchanged glances with his obvious crush. It was to early to say he had any actual feelings toward her but he'd be lying if he said he didn't grin when thinking about her.

The bunkhouse fell to a hush as Beth entered the house, “Baby lets go we have guest tonight.” she spoke motioning to him.

Carter looked back at everyone “Not a word..” he mouthed, the cowboys only laughing lowly as he left.

Getting in Beths car she looked over at him. “I need you to take a shower when we get up to the house okay? Gotta be a bit presentable.” grabbing his head kissing the side of it, “You smell like horse shit.” she smiled before starting the car heading up to the house.

This was bound to be an interesting dinner.

tags:

@nomournersonefuneral

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girlsofgmc · 8 months ago

Photo

Sabina Kelley

A Pink 1955 Chevrolet and Sabina Kelley…

#1955 #chevrolet #pink #sabina kelley #girlsofgmc #chevy #girls of gmc

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msbigredmachine · 5 months ago

Text

New To This - Chapter 10

Credit to the owners of the pics and gifs.

MASTERLIST

-----------------

"We can’t wait for you to get started, Delilah," Coach Matt Bloom said as he and Coach Sarah Stock ushered her out of the offices of the WWE Performance Center.

It had been a while since Delilah had been this excited about anything. Sitting for the last half hour with WWE’s head coaches and Tank, who had flown in from Pensacola for the sole purpose of this meeting, listening to what these experienced people around her had to say, she could feel herself growing more and more hopeful at the prospect of joining this incredible organization. Every other perceived challenge seemed to be a distant memory as she got caught up in the whirlwind.

Until Tank had asked the coaches about relocation expenses. He had asked if WWE was willing to pay for Delilah and her husband-to-be to move from Pensacola to Orlando. She understood that he was merely trying to broker the best deal for his star pupil, and she appreciated it. But it was the first time anyone in the room had spoken of Andre this entire trip, and she was trying her hardest to forget him. At least until she had to go back to him. She planned on only thinking about his part in this life-changing ordeal when she was forced to return home. For now, she just wanted to focus on becoming the diamond the WWE clearly regarded her to be.

Shaking Matt and Sarah’s hands firmly, Delilah smiled widely and then stepped into the hugs each of them offered. "Thank you so much for this opportunity, Sir, Ma’am, it means everything to me," she whispered, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes. "I won’t let y’all down, I promise."

With a nod and a warm smile, Sarah rubbed her back. "You've got talent, girly. Lots of it. But you're only gonna make it if you really want it."

As the two walked away, Delilah looked over at Tank in complete awe. “Is this really happening?”

Tank smiled down at his protege, elated that she was one step closer to living her dream. “Looks that way, kiddo.”

Her conversation with Tank was interrupted by the roar of an engine. Delilah didn't even have to turn around to know who had arrived. As Tank waved the driver over, she closed her eyes and worked to compose herself. It was bad enough that he had made her come two more times before she left for her morning meeting.

This was important to her. She didn't need to add anymore drama to her life. And she sure as hell didn't want to see a decent friendship thrown away because they had given in to their urges. Truth be told, if she didn't have to see Joshua Fatu ever again after this trip, she would be more than happy. But seeing him in that big ol' truck with no sleeves and them gorgeous tattooed arms out, looking as sexy as ever, made her rethink things.

She engrossed herself in her texts to her co-worker Tiwa as she made her way toward the GMC Sierra, catching the tail end of Josh and Tank’s conversation.

"So, since I'm here for like a week," Tank was saying, "I might as well hit her up, maybe have dinner, watch a movie, and see where it goes from there." Gesturing to the woman now beside him, he asked Josh, "You mind giving Miss Parrish a lift back to the hotel?"

Josh’s amused expression was equally aggravating. “Sure, Uce,” he agreed easily, reaching across the passenger's seat to pop the door open.

Delilah recoiled in exaggerated annoyance. “What? What about the tour you promised me?” She wanted to throw a temper tantrum. Tank had promised to spend the afternoon with her. He wasn't supposed to surrender her over to her newfound lover, whom at this point she had barely looked in the eye.

Tank merely rolled his eyes. "Girl, chill. Josh has been here as many times as I have. I'm sure he'll show you a good time."

Oh, I bet he will.

Reluctantly sliding inside, Delilah crossed her arms and pouted like a petulant child. "You owe me," she said to Tank, “And by the way, Tiwa likes you.”

Tank blinked. "Tiwa? You mean your friend from the supermarket?"

It was her turn to roll her eyes. “Yes, Makena. She’s a great girl too. Don’t let her slip away,” she advised him, just as Josh peeled out of the parking lot. Resting her elbow against the open window, she thought of what to say to her adulterous partner in crime, finally settling with "I'm hungry" and keeping her expression as curt and no-nonsense as possible.

Josh shrugged and looked over at her. “Whatchu wanna eat?”

------------------

“There ya go baby, ride that fuckin’ dick,” he encouraged, his big hands tight on her waist guiding her up and down.

Delilah’s face lolled into the groove of Josh’s neck, moaning out loud as she bounced desperately on him, loving the feel of him deep inside her. Gripping his broad shoulders for leverage, she suckled on his skin, sending shivers down both their spines.

“Oooh, fuck, baby,” she breathed, widening her knees to grind down on him, her eyes rolling in the back of her head as his dick found her spot. “Fuck, yesssss…”

Josh's right hand slipped from her waist to mold her gyrating ass in his eager palm, his other hand gripping her hair as he groaned his pleasure. “Mm-hmm, that dick feel good, huh? I see you creamin' on me. That dick feel good, baby?” he taunted, his voice low and gruff.

The look of utter bliss on his face made her pussy even wetter, prompting her to ride him harder despite the tight confines of his seat, their collective breaths fogging up the windows of the truck that rocked back and forth non-discreetly in the corner of the hotel’s indoor parking lot. “So fuckin’ good, baby, you feel so good,” she gasped, kissing his lips with a wild hunger that couldn’t be satiated by food.

“Uh huh. This pussy good too. Don’t stop baby girl, fuck me…”

Swallowing down the last piece of her cornbread, Delilah picked up her plastic fork and stabbed a small chunk of saturated pork. "You wasn’t lying about this place. The food is bangin’," she commented.

Josh smiled as he swigged from his diet soda and eyed up the woman lying naked beside him. She had all but devoured the barbecue he had ordered for them, and the way the sauce smeared the corners of her mouth was hella cute. "My uncle Umaga told us about it when me and my brother first started out in FCW. We seriously contemplated staying in Orlando just for the damn place," he explained, tossing his to-go box on the floor of the hotel room, right on top of the condom wrappers he had used earlier. He had tried his hardest to not have sex with her again, but the tension in the truck had been more than he could bear. Forced to listen as Delilah lectured him about their misdeeds of last night and this morning, all he could see was the movement of her full lips just begging to be shut up by his mouth on hers. So he did just that, promptly breaking every promise either of them had made.

She tried to reason it that way, but Delilah was more than aware that the notion of "You’ve fucked him already. Fucking him a few more times doesn't make you any more unfaithful" was a lame excuse. But as she lay panting underneath Josh on his bed, just minutes after their little session in his truck, she convinced herself that her week in Orlando was her escape. Her Hall Pass, even. That she was taking the chance to live the life she might never again get to experience. She’d been a good girl in her twenty-five years on earth so far. One week of naughty behavior wouldn’t hurt anyone.

Peeling the sheets slowly off of her, Josh smirked as Delilah's beautiful body was exposed inch by inch to him. Noticing the goosebumps littering her skin, he dipped his head and nuzzled her neck. "I'm glad you're enjoying your lunch, baby girl," he whispered, resting his hand on her bare belly.

"Dude," she chided him, yanking the sheet back over her chest with one hand while munching on a rib with the other, "I’m tryna eat. I know that I ain’t so sexy that you can't keep your damn hands to yourself for a few minutes."

Josh's lips curled at her words, his dark eyes glittering in amusement as he gazed up at her. "You really got no clue, do you?"

"Clue about what?"

Sitting back against the headboard, Josh took a deep breath. "I don't act like this, Delilah," he confessed, almost with gritted teeth, like he was being forced to utter the words. "Nobody makes me lose control." He linked their fingers together and raised the back of her hand to his lips. "Ya know what? You don't make me lose control," he corrected, as though the thought had just occurred to him. He studied her face, gauged her reaction. “I want to lose control. I wanna lose myself in you. You make me feel…free. I ain’t felt this way in years, baby.”

Delilah didn’t know what to say to his confession, and settled for raising one eyebrow skeptically. “Homie, you are so full of shit.” With a shake of her hair, she shifted over, straddling his hips and leaning back to rest her hands on his thighs. Gazing seductively at him through her thick, long lashes, she parted her thighs and spread her legs open, watching his orbs darken and feeling his dick harden. "Is this sexy, Joshua? Hmm? The way I'm sitting right now? Are you turned on seeing me like this?"

If only she knew that she turned him on in every way. Silently, he tugged her flush against him and pushed her hair back from her face, biting his lip to keep from voicing all of the thoughts in his mind.

"This is so weird," Delilah scoffed, rotating her body until her back was resting against his chest, her hands caressing his tattooed arms as they wound around her belly. "I hardly do shit like this with Andre. And I’m sure you've been with women who love doing all that Kama Sutra stuff," she rambled, wondering for a moment why she was even talking to him about her insecurities. But deep down, she needed to know that he was enjoying their time together as much as she was and didn’t mind her rather limited bedroom skills.

Josh was quiet for a moment as he absorbed what she was trying to convey to him. "With experience comes confidence. You ain’t got much experience," he acknowledged softly, chuckling a little as he tilted her face up to his. "But the good news is, I got a lot to spare."

Delilah laughed and smacked his bicep. "Oh, trust me, you've shared more than enough."

“Guess what baby girl, there’s plenty more where that came from.” Licking his lips, he pressed them against hers, gently massaging her breasts with his hands and swallowing her moans as they luxuriated in their kiss. Pride rushed through him at the hazy quality of her pretty eyes that always appeared whenever he kissed her. "Go pack your stuff and bring it over here. You stayin’ with me for the rest of your trip,” he told her.

Delilah fluttered her lashes at him. “So you’re keeping me all to yourself then?”

“You could say that.” He kissed her again. “You gon’ have a lotta fun with me, baby. Trust me."

------------------

True to his word, Delilah spent the rest of the week in Josh’s hotel suite, and they barely came up for air for the two days she was there. The first morning, he fucked her in the shower, taking her nice and slow with his big hands all over her body, making her moan and beg for more. Their wet bodies sliding together, the little noises of pleasure they both made over the sound of the rushing water, was something Delilah would never forget. He took her out for lunch and some shopping in the afternoon, and when they returned she had his dick for leftovers, giving him head until her jaw got tired. She made him come three times with just her mouth, a feat she was very proud of, and was even treated to her first “facial”. But Josh reciprocated by eating her pussy for what felt like hours and one-upped her with half a dozen orgasms. After dinner, they went out for a stroll in the hotel’s mazy rose garden, but it wasn’t long before Josh pushed her into the bushes, hiked up her dress and took her from behind, her hair wrapped in his fist as she struggled to keep from crying out into the open air and getting caught.

On the second day, they had sex on every surface in his hotel room. They started off in bed, with her sucking him off before getting on top to ride him reverse cowgirl, as he delightfully watched her ass jiggle every time she bounced on his cock. On the kitchen counter, breakfast was abandoned when he poured honey over her pussy lips and lapped it all up, holding her hips down as she screamed. On the armchair, he folded her in two with her legs on his shoulders as he pounded into her over and over, only pausing to catch her cum with his deadly tongue each time she climaxed. On the sofa, he made her throw her ass back while holding her arm behind her back, smacking her ass cheeks when she tried to run. In between rounds, he would play with her, getting her wet and ready for him all over again. She was his to do with as he pleased for two straight days and Delilah didn’t want it to end. This new dick had her acting like a thot and she didn’t care.

On the morning of her departure, Josh offered to take her to the airport. Of course, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. They made out at every red light, and his fingers stayed inside her for half the journey. Her moans definitely sounded better than any song on his favorite playlist. As they reached the airport’s parking lot, a feeling of dread settled in the pit of his stomach. It was back to the real world for both of them and he wasn’t sure he wanted her to go back.

Biting her lip, Delilah toyed with the handle of her luggage. She was sad to leave Josh, particularly because she would not see him again for a while. Not get to have him or have that fire dick inside her. But regardless of what happened between them, she was well aware that this was a one-off, a brief fling, and it was time to refocus on her career.

"Thanks for everything, Josh," she smiled weakly, looking into his beautiful eyes she since realized she could get lost in every time. Like now.

Josh rested one arm on his car, leaning back to admire her. “I like this look on you, baby,” he spoke, smirking at her questioning expression, “Mm-hmm, lookin’ all fucked out and slutted out thanks to ya boy.”

“Stop,” Delilah blushed. But it was a hard ask for him to stop complimenting her. To stop wanting her. She would have to put up with his exultations for the foreseeable future.

“You gon’ miss me?” he queried.

She shrugged. “I might.”

“You will,” he said confidently, biting his lip as he slowly eyed her up and down. He found himself pulling her close again, unable to resist one more taste of her. “C’mere.”

He savored the feeling of her tongue in his mouth, of his body pressed to hers, his arms around her, her fingers in his hair. The kiss seemed to go on forever, and even then, it wasn’t long enough. He forced himself to pull back, because if he didn't, he would drag her into the back of his truck, and she would definitely miss her flight back home.

When their mouths parted, Delilah felt like she was paralyzed. With her eyes still tightly closed, she ran her tongue along her bottom lip and moaned softly. Opening her dark orbs slowly, she reached a palm to his face and gently ran her thumb along his lower lip. How she was going to cope without him, she didn’t know. She just knew she had to.

"Goodbye, Josh," she whispered, grabbing her things and turning to leave before she could change her mind.

-------------------

THOUGHTS? Don't worry, it's not over. 😈

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#jey uso #main event jey uso #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso fanfic #jey uso smut #jey uso x black oc #jey uso x black reader

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