#Minors DNI unless this breaks containment because then it's out of my hands + nothing N/S/£/W anyways.

[hexastitchimera]

Hey friends, I've noticed that it's that time of year where people are being nasty, specifically and especially to us madfolk. If you've gone through that personally, I'm very sorry, and you have my solidarity & support.

However, if you'd like to know something that helps me a lot, is in relation to the dreaded rhetoric of:

[ TW: reality questioning / gaslighting ]

|

"Reality is a simulation!!"

"Life is an illusion!!"

"You can't prove anybody else exists!!"

|

[ /End TW ]

And all the others exactly like them.

Though I used to be very distressed over these claims, I've found a way to cope with them that doesn't involve lying to yourself and your rightful anxieties. If anything, it can foster a better sense of trust in ourselves, as well as a confidence boost.

When this rhetoric pops up, I tell myself:

"This does not and will not change how I have been living thus far. I will continue to live my life as usual."

"Even if that was true/real, there is inherent power in being unaffected and living life as usual despite knowing so."

And, most importantly, "MY lived experience is my LIVED experience, illusion or not."

Nothing about ferociously affirming- or denying- any aspect of what is "truly real" or not. You are focusing on and validating the experience of the most important POV in your existence, which is to say yourself and your own.

Though I am fully aware that, in the heat of the moment, our brains will respond in protective albeit intense ways, practice practice practice. Personally, I had to coax myself for nearly a month's worth of episodes before this technique started digesting.

Once your brain makes the pathways and connections however, you will find that it gets easier. It doesn't have to ever be "cured"- I still get paranoid myself over reality- but it can be mitigated for YOUR safety and comfort.

Because at the end of the day, YOU are here. YOU deserve nothing but peace, safety, good health, good company, and good times. Never let anybody- especially non-madfolk and psychiatry- tell you otherwise.

Love & Solidarity to you All,

- Delta 💜

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Devil Worshipping Cultists Steve & Eddie x Virgin Sacrifice Fem!Reader

ADVISORY: This story contains dark content. Relevant tags are posted below the cut. Proceed only if you’re comfortable consuming content with intense themes and violent imagery. The canon is essentially flipped upside down (no pun intended) with Eddie and Steve behaving as villains in this story.

Eddie and Steve are the villains this story. They are depicted as the kind of devil-worshiping deviants the people of Hawkins accuse Eddie of being. In this story, ‘Hellfire,’ lives up to its name, with Eddie and Steve as a pair of friends who use their ‘devotion,’ to Satan as an excuse to carry out sinister actions.

Additional content warnings: words like bitch and cunt are used as insults against reader. Reader is touched against her will and a knife appears briefly. Reader’s virginity is mocked, as well as her desire to abstain from sex. She is threatened with assault. Misogyny, men being bastards, religious themes (Satan, a church, devil worship). And in the end, the bastards pay…

Eddie Munson’s eyes lick over you sinisterly. “She’s pretty and she’s a virgin?” he huffs, obviously pleased with your ‘credentials.’ “Looks like you hit the jackpot with this one, Steve.”

You hear Steve Harrington, your ‘boyfriend,’ chuckle softly behind you. You’re tempted to turn and face him, but you refuse. He has betrayed you, completely. After three months of dating who you thought was a normal, nice young man, Steve allowed his true personality to emerge. He and his twisted friend Eddie have brought you to a remote location against your will…an abandoned, decaying church. You can’t say for certain what their plans for you are, but it’s obvious they intend to harm you.

Eddie slides a fingertip under your chin, tilting your face upward. Dying sunlight streams through a window on the ceiling. Its rose-tinted glass casts a haunting glow over the room. “See that?” Eddie asks, pointing to the window. “Up there? That’s the only way out of this room-.” He glances mischievously at Steve. “-For her, anyway,” he laughs, then to you, “So unless you’ve got a set of wings I don’t know about...” Eddie moves behind you and abruptly tugs the collar of your shirt downward, splitting the fabric down your back. “…Nope, no wings,” he confirms. Eddie’s eyes feel like snakes slithering over your exposed skin. “…I guess that means you’re dying tonight,” he concludes.

As quickly as it appeared, Eddie’s dark expression turns crudely joyful, a maniacal laughter bursting from inside him. “M’just fucking with you, sweetheart!” he clarifies, but it does nothing to tame the tension in the room. “Something in you is going to die tonight,” Eddie adds, his voice a taunting lilt. “That much is true…”

Steve’s hands close over your shoulders, a familiar touch that had once felt protective. Now, you realize that every gesture of softness, every gentle word from him, has been a lie. Steve’s voice is chillingly calm as he explains: “Your innocence is dying, tonight.” You force yourself to willingly look at Steve. His hazel eyes are filled with a false sincerity. He never cared for you, at all.

Assuming you don’t understand what’s being implied, Eddie chimes in. “We’re taking your virginity tonight, (y/n).” You shake your head at Steve, whose flat expression betrays any sense of remorse. “Why?” you ask, your voice breaking. “Is this because I made you wait?? Because I’m saving that experience…having sex…for my wedding night??”

Eddie laughs out loud at your words; he finds your standards of morality equal parts hilarious and pathetic.

“Christ, Steve!” he chortles. “Where’d you find this one? Behind a pulpit??”

“Trust me (y/n),” Steve tells you. “Eddie and I aren’t doing this because you wouldn’t sleep with me the whole time we were dating. I could have taken what I wanted from you anytime during those three months.” Steve’s lips pout down at you; he’s mocking you now, just like Eddie. “Besides,” Steve continues. “It’s not like I wasn’t fucking around with other bitches the whole time, (y/n). Girls who didn’t have one damn problem spreading their legs for me…”

Eddie slaps Steve’s back in a toxic, macho sort of congratulation. “That’s my boy,” he sings. “Now, let’s get to the best part, Steve.”

Eddie reaches for the front of your shirt and yanks it down, revealing your breasts blooming over a push-up bra. “Well how about that??” he balks. “What kind of virgin wears sexy shit like that under her clothes?”

You glare at Eddie. “Believe it or not, women wear clothes for themselves,” you bite back. “Not everything’s for men and especially not you, asshole!”

Eddie shudders, pretending to be intimidated. “My apologies, y-your highness, your l-ladyship,” he stutters, holding his palms in front of him in surrender. “You got me. I’ll change my ways, I swear.”

Eddie’s open hands close suddenly over your breasts, clutching them firmly, pulling a shocked gasp from your lips. “…But not today,” he grins smugly, continuing to grope you. “Now tell me, did Stevie here at least make it to second base?”

Steve blows a drawn-out raspberry. “Not a chance,” he jeers. “This bitch is as uptight as they come. Barely let me put my tongue in her fuckin’ mouth.” Steve cups your cheek in his hand, making you flinch. “Isn’t that right, baby?” he murmurs, closing the space between you, the tip of his nose nuzzling yours. “You and those fucking standards of yours…But I guess in the end, all your stupid morals made you the best sacrifice of all…”

You lurch back from Steve, right into Eddie’s arms, unfortunately. He spins you around to face him, a sadistic glimmer in his eyes when he speaks. “That’s right (y/n), we’re sacrificing your purity tonight,” Eddie explains. “And the fact that you’re a goody-two shoes little cunt actually makes it all the better.”

“What are you talking about?” you snap. “Sacrificing my purity? Who the hell talks like that? Fucking weirdos-”

“DON’T-,” Eddie shouts, shoving a finger at you. “-DISRESPECT…the RITUAL.” His eyes are like fire; Eddie is seething. “DON’T-disrespect-HIM…”

The sunlight has faded completely by this point. The only illumination in the room is coming from Eddie’s lighter, a thin flame twitching in his unsteady grip.

You stare stone-faced at Steve, your Judas Iscariot, your betrayer, the man whose lies outshine even his beauty. The window blinks above you, lightning flashing nearby.

“Satan,” Steve utters in a low, reverent tone. As if on cue in a cheesy horror movie, thunder rumbles outside the church.

You roll your eyes at Steve, earning you an even harsher glare from Eddie. “Satan?” you parrot back at Steve. “As in, the Devil? Are you serious?”

“-Is this fucking serious enough for you?” Eddie shouts. He pulls a pocket knife from his pants and juts its tip against your throat. “This is how it has to happen. We prayed to Satan, and He told us.”

“Told you what?” you sneer. “That if you fucked a virgin in the sanctuary of an old church, the Devil will give you magic powers or something? You really believe in that kind of shit?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, tugging your arm towards him. “Because it’s real. And you’re about to find out how real it is.”

He yanks you by the wrist, ordering you onto the ground . A bolt of lightning crackles outside, close enough that it makes Steve and Eddie jump. The brief pulse of light illuminates the three of you, and maybe Eddie’s imagining it, but he could swear your eyes look…different. Darker, somehow.

He assumes it’s just a shadow, a trick of the light, and tries to ignore it. Steve pulls at your arm again, trying to force you onto the floor. But you won’t budge. He can’t understand how you’re fighting him; he’s clearly stronger than you are. Thunder shakes the ground beneath your feet, a low hum bellowing from below as if the earth itself is groaning.

“You hear that?” Eddie asks excitedly, his pulse racing. “It’s Him, Steve. It’s fucking Him!”

Wind whips around the old church, its wooden beams creaking like tired bones. Eddie’s lighter begins to flicker in and out; he curses and smacks it against his palm, trying again.

When the flame ignites, its amber glow illuminates only Steve and Eddie’s faces. You appear to have vanished.

“Where the fuck did she go?? She was right-”

“-Well you were the one holding her fucking arm, Steve-how should I-.”

“HEY!” you call from behind the pulpit. Both men whip their bodies to face you, another burst of lightning revealing their wide eyes gazing up at yours.

“H-how did you do that?” Steve asks, his voice wavering. Eddie shakes the bewilderment from his mind, now even more determined to see his plan through. “You little bitch,” he growls. “I don’t know how you did that, how you got up there that fast, but you’re still ours, and we’re still in control!”

Eddie starts for the podium, but finds himself frozen, unable to move an inch. His eyes go wide as saucers, fear washing over his face.

“You both look so small from up here,” you tell them, leaning over the pulpit, your breasts pressed against it. “Small and weak. Pathetic, actually.”

Eddie smacks Steve’s shoulder, telling him to grab you; but try as he might, Steve is frozen in place as well.

The glow from Eddie’s lighter flicks in and out as his hand shakes uncontrollably. “What the hell is this?” Steve asks in a small, timid voice. But Eddie has no answer to give him.

“All those hours the two of you spent praying,” you speculate, getting high on their fear. “I wonder who you were actually praying to? Because it certainly wasn’t me…”

Steve’s jaw goes slack, sweat dripping from his hairline. Eddie wants to know…has to know, if what you’re implying is true. “L…Lord,” he begins tentatively, his voice trembling. “I had no idea-we-had no idea, it was You-.”

“SILENCE,” you order, and Eddie’s lips seal shut. “Bow to your Master, if it’s Satan you praise. Or can you not bring yourself to kneel at the feet of a woman?” A dry laughter rumbles from your chest, filling the room with heat, rattling the church’s bony frame.

Steve and Eddie tremble beneath you. Lightning strikes above the church; you watch its glare in the ceiling window, how it floods the terrified faces of the men at your feet. A tall tree beside the church is struck; it catches fire immediately.

“You bastards would need a taste of Hell, to understand how sick you are,” you tell Steve and Eddie. “Therefore, it’s what I’ll give you.”

The tree collapses against the roof of the church, setting it ablaze. Eddie and Steve whirl their heads to see it, but their feet are still stuck in place.

You remain calm, as if the decrepit old building isn’t going up like a box of matchsticks around you. “Legend says,” you preach to the men. “That the Devil wears a suit and tie…” You lean forward against the pulpit, your black eyes glaring down at them. “…But sometimes, She wears a push-up bra…”

A beam of rotting wood detaches from the ceiling, falling directly in front of Steve and Eddie, blowing dust and smoke into their eyes. As they cough and sputter and try to make out the shape of you behind the pulpit, they realize you’ve vanished. Panic seizes them both as flames draw closer and closer to the place their feet are locked, immovable. Sweat pours down their faces, eyes wide with tears that evaporate as soon as they form. The heat is suffocating, clogging their throats, smoke filling their lungs to bursting…

…And just as the first touch of fire licks at their skin, it STOPS.

Eddie and Steve are laying in the field outside the church, their backs burning, bits of clothing singed off around them. They gulp the fresh air into their mouths, weeping tears that can finally fall, drinking in the rain as it begins to cascade above them.

They watch the church, as the last of its pillars and beams are consumed by fire, brought down to its foundation. Rain puts out the flames remaining, as darkness swallows the area once more. Smoke rises like a prayer to Heaven, along with the tearful utterances of two men forever changed in one night, asking God to forgive them, two sinners grateful to still be breathing…

[finniestoncrane]

Old Times Pornstar!Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, multi-part au fic cooper howard is a former actor, novice pornstar, and current wasteland escort. reader mistakes him for a bounty hunter and ends up getting far more entwined in his lifestyle than they intended in a bid to get what they need from the first 'kind' person they've met in a long time🤎

☢️ Chapter 3: Show Time, word count: 4.5k cooper has a little idea that really seems like a win-win-win-win!! reader gets enough money to hire a bounty hunter, cooper gets paid his due, they both get to spend more time together, and hundreds of people will benefit from that!! unless you hate cowboy themed puns, in which case you WILL NOT benefit... Chapter 1 Chapter 2 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: penetrative sex, blowjobs, cumshot, facial, sex on tape, pornography/sex work, rough sex, exhibitionism, puns and bad acting abound, missionary/doggy style/cowgirl, fingering

The bar was open when you woke up, surprisingly selling alcohol as well as some food. No one else appeared to be eating, only sipping out of bottles or chipped mugs in complete silence. So you thought it would be best to join them. 

Once you were comfortable on your stool, you rifled through your bag, finding a few caps in the inside pocket. You asked the bartender for a beer and took a swig, scowling at the taste, but taking another one immediately after anyway. The bitter flavour was waking you up, heightening your senses, clearing your mind with enough of a shock that you could hear your thoughts. About Cooper, about the night before, about how or when you were going to either continue on your mission, or return home empty handed, worse off than when you left. 

It would be a difficult choice. But not one you had to make immediately. You could allow yourself a day, maybe another night here or in the next settlement. A break from reality. From the pain of home. You rifled through your bag once more, making sure you had enough of what you needed, except for caps, which you were now lacking in completely, and finished the last of your beer. You had intended to go for a walk around the town, see what else a big settlement like this had to offer, but as you stood up and turned, you walked straight into the person standing behind you. 

“You leaving without a goodbye then, darlin’? When you owe me money?”

“Cooper! I, uh… I wasn’t actually-”

“You think I wouldn’t notice?” 

He tossed your caps onto the bar, all of them jangling together in their container. 

“I seem to be missing a few.”

“Well, I had to pay for the other room, so I thought-”

“No excuses.”

He tapped the tin with one gloved finger, looking at you intently, never blinking, not once.

“You didn’t even leave me a tip. Was it that bad? ‘Cause it sure didn’t seem like it was.”

“No! Cooper, it was… it was really good.”

You had lowered your voice, aware that there were people close enough to hear your discussion, and not wanting to embarrass Cooper in front of them, or have yourself outed to the entire town as the new girl who was only there to fuck their resident trick pony. In response, Cooper leaned in, whispering, his voice rumbling through his chest as he grinned.

“Well, I suppose I can let you in on my plan. A way for you to keep that pittance for your bounty hunter and to give me my dues, plus interest. Whaddaya say?”

It took all of your focus not to jump immediately at the opportunity. Most of that enthusiasm was down to the idea that you might get to spend even more time with Cooper, something you’d been pining for since you’d left the room the night before. And it killed two birds with one stone, because the longer you were here, under the guise of actually working on the plans you set out with, the longer you could avoid the seemingly inevitable conclusion of having to return home with nothing. 

Maybe Cooper would offer you something new. An opportunity. Maybe, if you prayed hard enough, you could spend the rest of your life doing nasty things with Cooper, having fun, with someone more exciting that anything you had ever encountered before, and then you’d never have to face home or the failure that came with it. That felt like a pretty good deal. 

For Cooper, it was a chance to feel like himself again. He’d spent so long in this new body, this new way of thinking, that he had almost forgotten what values he held close. Before this, before the bombs, before Barb and Vault Tec and the divorce. Until you had spoken simple words of kindness to him, he’d never thought about how much he’d given up. But he realised that with you, he had a chance to help someone, and help himself, his old self, at the same time. 

And it wasn’t as if he was giving up on being a reprehensible bastard cold turkey. Even though he was doing some good, he was lining himself up for a damn good time in the process. He just couldn’t send you away yet though, not when he was feeling a proper connection for the first time in a long time. Not when there was someone he felt something with. 

Both of you were also worried about the same thing, though neither of you would admit it. It felt far too soon, almost cliched, to be so tied to one another already, but there was a tether there between you. Cooper couldn’t face the idea of going back to anonymous, meaningless sex where his body was the focus and his mind and soul were locked in a box until he was finished doing the task he was paid for. He couldn’t bear the thought of feeling the inside of someone else’s body, when he’d known yours so intimately, although briefly. And on very much the same train of thought as Cooper, it pained you to think about him going off and being with other people, forgetting about you maybe, after one or two or three more clients. There was more to your encounter than that, more than could, or should, be forgotten. Fate, kismet, destiny. 

But those felt like very sappy words to throw out so soon after meeting each other, if at all. So you both kept looking at one another until you broke first under his intense gaze.

“Ok then, Cooper. What did you have in mind?”

“Follow me.”

He stood up from the bar and walked towards a table in the corner of the room, shaded and dark, as though he required the atmosphere to drill home the nature of the deal which you imagined was going to be shady, given Cooper’s mischievous grin. Once you were both seated, he leaned in across the table and spoke in a hushed tone.

“Now, I told you I have a way for me to get paid, and for you to make enough money to find a better bounty hunter than you were gonna for that shit budget you had before, but you’re gonna have to hear me out, darlin’, because I don’t think you’ll take kindly to this to begin with.”

You nodded slowly, brows furrowing in a look of concern as you wondered what Cooper was about to say to you. But instead of opening with his plan, he opted to ease you into it, sort of uncomfortably, by reflecting on the night before. 

“Listen… I don’t want to give you any undue credit for what was all my work, but last night… Well, that was really something.”

Swallowing your nerves, you nodded once more, trying to downplay the excitement burning in your throat. It might never happen again, despite how much you wanted it, but at least Cooper had felt the same way. It had been different. Special, if you wanted to use a word that made you almost cringe. 

“I gotta tell you, I haven’t had that kind of chemistry with someone since… well, in a long time. Usually, this work, it’s a means to an end that doesn’t seem to be coming. But I think I know how to get out of it. If you’ll… indulge me.”

Another nod. Still no words. You didn’t think you could speak even if you had anything to say except a shrill, giddy scream. 

“Now, before all of this, and I mean before all of this, I was something of a star. Up on the big screen, and the small screen. Just about any screen they had. And while I’m not particularly proud of some of my work, having had to let my body do the lead role, I can’t deny that it was lucrative. There’s always money in sex, y’know?”

You imagined there was. Already you’d sunk your remaining life savings into it, and you’d only been propositioned once. It was clearly an industry worth something, even though Cooper hardly sold it by proclaiming he wasn’t proud of it. Still, you were keen to know where he was going with this, still unsure, or perhaps not allowing yourself to read too far ahead in fear of making an assumption that would be incredibly embarrassing. 

“See, the kind of chemistry we had - have - is one you don’t come across too often, and it works so well on screen. We’d be foolish not to take advantage of that, don’t you think?”

“I agree.”

Your voice cracked on the last syllable, but you felt you had managed to play it cool as best as you could be expected to when Cooper was smiling at you the way he was, leaning over the table, close enough to you that you could feel his warm breath on your cheeks.

“So I propose that we use it to our advantage. A contact of mine, scavenger, he found some pretty good equipment, and one of his friends figured out how to work it. I bought it from them, nostalgia’s sake. We could make ourselves a little movie, sell some bootleg holotapes at the bar to my vast and varied clientele. Profits for me, profits for you. What do you think?”

“You want us… to…?”

“Make some pornography. You’re familiar with it, aren’t you?”

And of course you were. Who wasn’t? Explicit material was hoarded, traded, treated like high class art because of its desirability but rarity. Hand-drawn, audio recordings, some magazines. But you’d never watched any before.

“And that’s… that’s something people would want?”

Cooper scoffed, settling back in his chair, shrugging his shoulders so nonchalantly at your query. 

“They might not know it, but it is. Any TV out there, provided it’s not blasted to shit, you can connect it to power. It won’t show anything new of course, but they’ll play a holotape. I know we’ve got a market for this. I know it. But you’ll just have to trust me, I suppose.”

You mulled it over. There were so many things to take into consideration, and so few of them were actually permeating past the excitement of getting to fuck Cooper once more. Besides, you needed the money. It wasn’t as if you were in a position to turn down whatever it was he was going to offer in the way of a grand scheme. You still felt like there should be at least an attempt at pretending to think it over, so you asked him the only question you could think of. 

“How will I know what to… do? Or say? Is there going to be a story?”

Cooper grinned wide, his yellowed teeth bared at you in a mischievous expression as he leaned in once more. 

“Oh don’t you worry about that. I had a bit of a hobby, writing scripts. No one ever wanted them, but I always fancied myself moving into writing or directing in my later years. And how much later can we get, I’m already two hundred years after considering that.”

Despite giggling at his comment, you could feel the sudden stress rising up in your chest, and you took a deep breath before asking him the follow up question that was playing on your mind.

“Do I need to like… remember what to say?”

“You know what, darlin’?”

Cooper took your hand in his, patting it condescendingly, but you took the comfort eagerly.

“You don’t have to say a thing except for what comes naturally. You let me carry the scene. I am the actor, after all.”

He winked to you, lifting his glass and downing his drink in one. 

“Shall I show you my script then? You in?”

With an enthusiastic nod you got up when he did, following him back through to the room you had paid for the previous day and sitting down on the bed with him, clutching the frayed, torn papers he had tossed to you from his pocket. Reading over it, you could feel both a desire to giggle and blush, as well as a heat crossing your lower back. It was so corny, so obvious, but nevertheless it was arousing. 

“So, what do you think then, darlin’? Am I good, or am I good?”

“Oh… you’re good, Cooper.”

“You in then?”

Again, you didn’t want to seem too eager, so you pretended to mull it over, looking at the paper so you could avoid Cooper’s gaze, before you set them down next to you and nodded to him.

“I’m in.”

He clapped his hands in excitement, stomping heavily towards the pack in the corner of the room, his own possessions stowed away neatly, a lifetime condensed, dust picking up around him, becoming unsettled in his frenzy. 

“What are you… Oh… Oh, Cooper… really?”

In his hands he held two items of clothing. A skirt that was barely anything, moth-bitten and stained slightly, but still surprisingly white in colour. And a shirt, similarly discoloured, fringe detailing on the collar with frayed embroidery detail the shoulders.

“You gotta look the part, darlin’. Now, you go put that on and I’ll get us set up.”

In the bathroom, you put on the outfit Cooper somehow just had, clearly waiting for an opportunity like this to come up, waiting for someone to fill the role. It made you feel special, like you were the chosen one. And that boost of confidence made you feel all the more attractive in the skimpy skirt and shirt that felt a little too tight across your chest. Upon exiting the bathroom, you found Cooper waiting for you by the side of the bed, the big heavy lump of equipment sitting on the wonky dresser and aimed at the bed. 

“Shouldn’t it look more like… a Western in here?”

“You got the budget for set dressing, missy?”

You raised your hands up, a silent apology for even questioning it, realising that Cooper had quickly been distracted by your outfit and was already forgetting your insolence as he took in how much of your legs were on display. 

Snapping himself out of the fugue state brought on by your body, he swallowed the collecting drool in his mouth and hit the button on the camera, walking over to you and winking. You did your best to recollect the bare bones of the script, enough that it might see you through this. But you were confident that in your excitement, you could play the part well enough.

“You’re safe now, ma’am. Those raiders won’t be comin’ round here no more.”

Standing before Cooper, you hesitated for a moment. But when he caught your eye, he offered you an encouraging nod and a smile that washed away most of your nerves, enough that you managed to get out your first line. And once that was out of the way, everything after it came easily.

“Why, kind sir. How can I ever repay you?”

“Well, little lady, I can think of plenty of ways you could thank me for my valiant efforts.”

“And what might those be, sir?”

Cooper hooked his arm around your back, pulling you into a quick embrace, tipping up the brim of his hat so he could lean into you.

“Oh! Well, sir… is that a pistol in your pocket? Or are you just that happy to do a good deed?”

“It’s my six shooter, darlin’. And if you’re a good girl, I’ll let you unload it.”

“Wow, you truly are a real cowboy, ain’t you?”

Pushing past the urge to cringe at the slight accent you were putting on, you managed to keep up the flirtatious act as you leaned into Cooper, hands behind your back to push your chest out further as you swayed a little. 

“Indeed I am, little miss. Now, let me show you how a cowboy gets his thanks.”

Cooper grabbed your hips, pushing you backwards until you landed on the rusting bed with a thud and a squeak. He was quick to hike up your skirt, pushing the fabric up until you were exposed to him, no underwear on. He pulled at your waist, angling you so you could be seen by the camera, and as you nervously pressed your thighs together he pushed his hand between your legs and spread them back apart.

Two of his fingers began gently stroking at your already wet and aching cunt, diving into it slowly, testing the waters, teasing you, like a glimpse of what was to come as his fingertips tapped right against the perfect spot. 

“You sure are somethin’, sweetheart. A mare to tame, huh? Lucky for you, I’ve done my fair share of ranch work.”

He worked quickly at his belt and pants, letting them slide down to his thighs, freeing his thick, hard cock. No sooner than you had begun to admire it, mouth watering, stomach clenching, he had lined it up with your entrance. He slid the tip against your folds, the head tapping your clit and sliding back down before he shifted his hips and pushed forward, entering you in one smooth motion. 

Your body reacted with a wave of heat, electricity flooding your nervous system, waves of static rushing over you as he began to pump his hips into you. He pushed his arms behind your back and lifted you slightly, bringing you to an angle, bucking up to fuck you deeper. You hooked a leg around his waist, holding him as close as possible, not wanting him to ever slide his cock back out of your cunt. You felt complete with it in there, throbbing against your walls. 

With your body close to his, he pressed his forehead to yours, unblinking as he focused on your eyes. There was an insatiable hunger in them, a ravenous desire for you that wasn’t just a bit for the camera. Cooper was really that hungry for you, greedy in his ruinous pounding as he let his cheek rest beside yours, tugging on your earlobes with his teeth as he grunted with exertion. Your heart thrummed as he teased your skin, working down your neck, biting the skin and sucking it into his mouth with a soft groan. 

But he let up quickly, softening the blow of his sudden stopping by cupping your cheeks in his hands.

“Bend over, darlin’. I wanna ride you like the wild pony I know you are.”

You were up and repositioning yourself almost immediately, his cock slipping free of your cunt with a deliciously wet sound, your thighs coated in your arousal, spreading apart once you were on your knees before him on the bed, waiting to be filled again. 

Cooper watched as you opened yourself up to him, holding his breath as he lined his head up once again with your cunt, pushing in slowly, inch by inch, until he was completely swallowed by your warmth. Setting himself at a brutal pace, he snapped his hips back and forwards against you, biting back his moans, breath hitching as he pulled your hips down onto him hard and fast. His fingers dug into your waist, nails pressing sharp crescents into your skin as he recklessly fucked you.

With a silent scream you arched your back as he rutted into you, deep and penetrating, only becoming more erratic as you writhed under him, squirming with pleasure as the head of his cock pounded against your g spot. Each knock felt like a jolt surging through you, each buck of his hips, the way he rolled into you, a sweet impact of pain and pleasure. You could feel him through you, full of him, happy to take him like this, his co-star, a place for him to bury his cock and make his money.

His legs began trembling, and he slowed his pace with a deep exhale.

“Wanna see if you can make me scream ‘yeehaw’, sweet thing? Why don’t you hop up on my lap. You can ride me so hard they might need to take me out back and shoot me.”

Cooper settled himself onto the bed beside you, patting against his thighs and waiting as you adjusted yourself once more, your legs straddling his hips. He held the base of his cock still as you sank down onto it, your cunt spreading, stretching to fit him once more, taking the entire length immediately, feeling completely stuffed.

He hissed, biting his lip as his cock disappeared into you once more, the pressure around him as you clenched, gripping him, had him whispering out in heated moans, until he was finally accustomed to the feeling. 

“I hope you’ve got good balance there, darlin’, cos I want you riding me bareback like you were a pro.”

His voice rasped on the words, a low, guttural sound that fell over his lips, a threat more than flirtatious joking, and you were happy to see it through. 

Working your thighs, you began rolling your own hips against him, feeling him twitch as you slid up and down his cock. Cooper’s breathy moans only spurred you on, moving faster, harder against him. His eyes were focused on your body, the way your breasts bounced as you rode him.

In a frenzied move that almost had you falling from him, he pulled your neck, bringing your body down to him, your hips moving up and down to keep sliding over his cock, bringing it inside of you, still buried deep within your cunt, but now he could nuzzle against your chest. 

His breath was warm against your skin, his neck stretching so he could catch your nipples in his mouth, worrying the buds with his teeth and tongue, sucking at them with satisfied sounds of ecstacy. Cooper’s own hips had begun bucking to, a syncopated rhythm between you both that led to a wild, frenetic pumping of his cock inside of your aching, fluttering walls. 

“Fuck… fuck… fuck.”

He’d lost all control of himself, and could feel the climax approaching, faster than he had hoped, but he couldn’t have expected it to feel this good. With a smile, he pushed your shoulders back, watching you as you sat on his lap, cock deep within you, pulsing, close to cumming with every little movement you made. 

“Now I know you ain’t a one trick pony, why don’t you show me what else you got up your sleeve.”

Cooper lifted your hips, guiding you off of his cock, your slick coating it in strands that pulled and dripped against your thighs. Following his strong arms, you sank to your knees on the floor in front of him, noting that you were directly in the line of the camera lens, ready for your big finale. 

He began stroking his cock, his palm becoming sticky with your arousal, the smacking sound of the well-lubricated motions so lewd, almost sultry. The perfect addition to the film.

“How familiar are you with ropes? Because I got a few for you here.”

His face was growing warmer, nerves on fire, cheeks burning, as he felt himself reaching his climax. With a racing heart, Cooper began to lose his composure, hitched breaths leading into a loud cry, a choked sob and moan as he came, white, thick ropes of his seed spilling onto your cheeks, against your lips, your neck and chest covered in droplets too.

Standing unsteadily, Cooper began to dissolve into the pleasure of a satisfactory conclusion, but not before he finished up the scene. His hand moved to the side of your neck, stroking around, fingers trailing over the front of your throat before his touch left you. 

“I’ll be on my way now, ma’am. But you ever run into trouble again… I sure would like to be the one that saves you.”

You managed to suppress the giggles until he was standing in front of the old camera, hitting the button again. He started dressing himself, presentable enough that he could leave the room.

“Cooper… that was…”

The words wouldn’t come to you, or rather, too many words came to you. Silly. Fun. Surprisingly hot. But as you watched his face contort into one of anticipation, almost nervous, you knew which one he wanted to hear.

“... amazing.”

His charming, cheeky smile rose back up on his lips as he nodded towards.

“Well, thank you, darlin’. You never know… this sells well enough and I might be looking to find a permanent position for you in this little business venture.”

You hoped he would. Beyond anything else, that’s what you wanted. Somewhere, at some point during all of the fun you were having with him, your subconscious had come to the conclusion that spending more time with Cooper, potentially all of your time with him, was what you wanted now. You could send money back to your settlement. You could hire a bounty hunter to do the work for you on their behalf. You could free yourself from a quiet life. You could find excitement, pleasure and, potentially, love. All of it was possible now. And you suspected that Cooper was certain it was too. Otherwise, would he even have mentioned the possibility of continuing to work together? He didn’t seem like the kind of man who would tease about something like that.

The thoughts remained in your head, too afraid to say them out loud in case you scared Cooper off with your quick attachment and your eagerness to be fucked by him on a long-term basis. You tried to think of something to say. Sharp, witty. Something that would set you on the same level as him, or at least close to it. Something that told him how much you wanted him, how much you wanted to stay here, without actually saying those words out right. But as you pondered over it, you realised you had another burning question, one that actually might work on all the levels you needed it to.

“Wait, don’t I get to finish?”

Cooper turned to you from the doorway, smiling wide, a smirk that made your stomach muscles tighten.

“When this little movie gets us our money and you can afford to pay me, I’ll make sure you do.”

He turned away, walking out of the door with the camera and the pile of holotapes in hand. Once you were dressed, and you had cleaned him off of your face, you followed after him, quick and dutifully, as you expected to, or at least hoped to, for as long as he’d let you.

Just as you finished dressing yourself, Cooper appeared in the door frame, tipping his hat to you as he winked.

“You comin’ then, partner?”

[wooahaes]

sorry this is two parts w like. idk more nsfw-related stuff under a cut? i don’t write smut here (i’d consider it for another sideblog but eh, i def wouldn’t be as active there bc sometimes trauma shit hits hard when it comes to that sort of thing--literally just depends on the day), but yeah i consume it sometimes lmao

i... genuinely think i try to skip a fic every time it doesnt contain warnings at all. like you don’t have to have a setup like i do and like other writers do where we have a word count and a warnings thing + what the pairing is, that’s fine? but like. come on. at least put some warnings on your fic if you know there’s potentially something triggering there. not all triggers make sense and can be preemptively warned for, but the least you can do is warn for the bigger ones. that’s for both sfw works and for smut. like: a lot of writers do! a lot of writers do warn for shit, and i appreciate them a lot. but idk i guess some people want to just get straight into their writing and while i get it, i think that can be extremely harmful if you know your fic has something triggering in it.

i’ve seen people argue about trigger warnings before because of the whole “the real world won’t hold your hand” thing but that’s bullshit. p*r*site is one of my favorite movies and i watched it in a class for the first time and one of my friends went out of their way to tell me that there’s an uncomfortable sex scene in it bc they knew it could fuck me up depending on the day. people i know will go out of their way to give a heads up for things. i’ve suggested movies to people i don’t know well and said “oh, shit, btw, huge trigger warning for (x)” because it’s a triggering subject and i don’t want anyone to suffer as a result. websites exist to warn people about shit. and even offline, there’s those things vets put in their yards around fourth of july because the sound of fireworks can be triggering to them. anyone who says that the “real world won’t hold your hand” is a dick who just wants an excuse to not care for others imo.

anyway fat girl rant under the cut specifically (nsfw warning in general for the topic bc god its abt smut. sorry gamers. minors dni with that part or ur getting blocked if u say anything)

idk what to call them other than a bulge kink but if thats wrong then my b. idk they feel... a liiiil assuming that reader is skinny? that u can see a bulge from where a dick is inside someone? bc there’s nothing in front of it (i.e. fat)? idk man fucking warn for that shit because it automatically sends up the red flag of “ohhh readers skinny...” for me every time i stumble across it w/o any warning. like idk if any other chubby writers wanna weigh in on that, feel free to? i just tend to look at myself and see my chub and im like. yeah theres no way ur seeing ur dick bulge out unless ur super fucking hung and if u are then i am afraid for me.

also sorry these arent really put together lmao im literally just talking at this point. i used up the brain power w the “include warnings” part.

idk i think... a lot of smut just assumes reader is thin, moreso than sfw stuff. ik ive spoken w someone abt this (i wont @ her since idk if she wants that) but like. the whole “jump and ill carry you” thing feels like we’ve been conditioned to find it hot and all i can think about is the fact that i don’t think it’d ever work unless the person’s fucking ripped. do u think ming/hao from s//v//t can lift my ass? no. id break him like a fuckin twig probably. 

i dont have an actual ending for this bc admittedly im tired. sorry to ming//hao for saying the truth that id break u </3