#Side Step bull bars

[monstersflashlight]

Halloween special: Red riding hood finds her wolves

Werewolf x werewolf x chubby fem!reader || breeding, predator/prey, breeding, size kink, sharing is caring, mating, oversimulation, spit-roast, cum inflation

Your friend invited you to the party, so you decided it was her fault that you didn’t know what it was it all about. She didn’t say (or maybe you weren’t listening), so that you were chased down the woods was totally her fault and nothing to do with you… Right. That’s it.

When she mentioned a costume party you started to make arrangements in your head and thinking how slutty could you dress, how much you could show without being too in your face… Okay, maybe you didn’t care for that and you were only thinking what dress would make you look hotter. Not two seconds later you decided red riding hood would be your best choice, you had a red cape that you used for a similar costume a couple years back, and a tiny dress you bought on a sad day. Your fat tummy and thick thighs would look killer in that red short dress, and if every inch of that fabric molded to your chubby body, that was a plus.

The problem was you didn’t know the party was at the pack land and there would be wolves assisting. And you also didn’t know wolves were more dangerous than a bull when you moved red fabric in front of them. But it was your friend’s fault, remember? All on her…

When you arrived in your short dress and high boots all eyes were on you, you looked fire and you knew it, and you did nothing but to enjoy the attention and the stares everyone around you were sending your way, your body tingling with excitement as they devoured you with their eyes. You were high on dopamine and excitement as you walked to the bar and saw a couple of very hot dudes making out. You shivered, your thighs clenching as your thong got wet. What was about two dudes making out that made them so fucking hot? Maybe it wasn’t the dudes, though, because if you saw two girls that would have made you dripping wet, too. Maybe it was you and your attention whore pussy. Yeah, most likely.

As soon as you walked in, they stopped kissing, their noses twitching as they turned around and focused their eyes on you, a growl escaping their mouths as you giggled. One of them was tall and bear-like, his face rough and his hair dark, and the other one was the prettiest redhead you’ve ever seen. They both towered over you, and you felt almost tiny in comparison, even thought your frame was big enough not to be missed anywhere. They looked flushed, but you bet you were even more red than them. Their hair was messy, and just then you understood their costume: no costume at all. They were in their half shifted form as they looked at you intently.

You stepped into the kitchen to get yourself a glass, but you didn’t get enough time before one of them grunted: “mate”. And the other one turned to look at him and growled: “mine”.

You knew enough wolves in your life to know what that meant. It meant that either you ran or you’d be fucked in the middle of that kitchen and everyone who entered would be able to see you being fucked against any surface available. And even though that was a fun thought, and maybe made your pussy hot as fuck, you knew it wasn’t the best way to start a mating bond. And if you were to be claimed, you wanted them to chase you (the kinky side of you already screaming giddily).

So you did what you had to: you took off your shoes and bolted out the back door.

You heard the howls behind you before you heard footsteps following close behind. You knew they had all the chances to catch you, but you also knew they wanted to play with their prey before they enjoyed your body. You screamed joyfully as you ran ahead of them, their grunts and yelps making you giddy with excitement. Your pussy was completely soaked as you ran, and you bet they could smell it behind you if their howls were any indication. Your thighs were rubbing in the worst possible way, and you were sure you’d have the worst case of friction burn in the morning, but at that moment, with your heart beating fast and hard and your future mates following behind you, you couldn’t care less.

“Come on little bunny, are you going to keep running?” One of them screamed behind you, making you giggle as you pushed yourself further.

“I’m going to fuck you as a reward, little mate, your pussy is going to be destroyed!” The other one warned, as if it was some kind of threat.

You giggled and kept running until your lungs couldn’t hold the air anymore and your feet started to hurt from the dirt under them. And when a nasty root appeared out of nowhere and made you trip, a strong arm caught you by the middle, leaving you suspended in the air as you breathed hard and they chuckled.

“Caught you!” The bearded one exclaimed as he ripped your dress of your body in one fast movement, making you gasp as you were left wearing nothing but the tiny thong and your red cape. “What do we do with our little bunny?” He was massive next to you, holding you up with just one arm, his hand almost covered your whole side.

Your body was vibrating with energy, the starts of the mating urge making themselves known as they touched your body freely. There was a traveling hand touching your exposed ass, some other hand pinching your nipple and groping your big tummy. They were everywhere at once, and they were making the mating frenzy even worse.

They lowered you to the dirt and you didn’t care. You only cared about their bodies and the deep need inside of you. You stared at them as they took off their clothes over you, their bodies being exposed fast, not allowing you to process before they were falling to their knees next to your body.

“Dibs on her pussy!” The redhead called out, making the other grunt as you giggled

The beard one grunted and complained. “Fuck. That’s low, man.”

“I’ll suck your dick later,” he promised with a teasing tone, making you whine at the image.

You’d give part of your left kidney to be able to see them fuck. And then you realized: you would see them. You were their mate, you’d be able to see them fuck all the times you wanted. You groaned at the realization, and they looked at you questioning. You couldn’t process your fast thoughts fast enough to tell them what was in your mind, but they didn’t seem to care anymore when they started caressing and touching your body again.

The bearded one grabbed your hair and pulled so you were looking at his face. “Okay little bunny, we’re going to fuck you until you are cum-drunk and bred. And then we are going to take you to our house and do it all over again. And again… And again.” He was kneeling next to your head and when you noticed his dick your breath got caught in your throat. There was no way…

“I- I don’t know if that will…” You tried to explain, the words coming slower and harder. Your brain was taking too much energy concentrating on sending you wave after wave of lust as the mating frenzy began.

“It will, honey, you are made for us, remember? Our mate. Are you okay with that, do you want us little mate?” The redhead asked, making you moan under his body weight as he laid over your back, his huge dick nesting between your ass cheeks and rubbing in a way that made your brain short-circuit. “I think that’s a yes,” he said amused, his clawed fingers finding your center, already wet and needy. “She’s soaked, good goddess,” he groaned, his tone getting low and making you moan again, pushing your ass against the front of his pants again.

“Fuck me, please,” you begged. You didn’t even know how they were taking so long, humans felt the mating urge a lot less intense than wolves and you were already dying to be fucked.

“Okay, little bunny, we can claim you know,” the bearded one said as he grabbed your face and used his thumbs to collect the tears that escaped your eyes. “Open your pretty mouth to take me,” his voice was softer now, and you preened under his attention as he grabbed your hair and opened his pants.

His dick sprung free and hit your lower lip at the same time you felt the tip of the redhead’s dick against your aching core. And that’s all you felt with a clear head before your brain was took over completely by lust. They grunted in unison, one pushed in your mouth and the other in your pussy, your brain shut off and any thought not regarding dick escaped your mind.

They started a frantic pace, fucking your holes in tandem as they howled to the moon. You could only moan and groan, the combined sensation making you ascend into a roller-coaster of pleasure that left you breathless as you sucked around the dick in your mouth. He grunted over you and the redhead answered with another grunt, their combined sounds were making you go as feral as they were, their dicks hitting every part of your insides as you cried around the dick in your mouth when the redhead grabbed your hips and rutted against your G-spot.

You felt the build up of an orgasm as you felt the first shoot of cum hitting the back of your throat. He screamed your name as he pushed as far as he could go and you swallowed as fast as possible. It wasn’t fast enough. He pulled out and painted your face with the last spurs of his dick as you panted and fell into pleasure yourself, your pussy contracting around his shaft as he buried himself deep and screamed your name. You felt the telltale stretch of his knot as he locked himself in you. You cried out when a second orgasm rushed over you and he filled you over and over, so much of it you could feel your stomach distending under your body as the bearded one caressed and pinched your nipples, making you cry out and come again. You were so oversensitive every single touch felt like ecstasy.

When the knot deflated, they didn’t let you catch your breath, switching places and making you lick all your juices off the redhead dick as the bearded one fucked right into your well used hole, pushing all the cum trying to escape back inside. The sounds of it was like a filthy symphony that made your brain get mushy and desperate with each passing second. You needed his knot like you needed air.

The second round was as intense as the first, but your oversensitivity only added to the feel of the dick thrusting into you as you came and came and came… At some point your brain disconnected. And connected again when his knot expanded inside of you, filling you again with so much come you could feel it gushing out of you around his knot. It was filthy and dirty, it was lust and desire personified, it was like your whole body now became theirs, and theirs became yours… It was like nothing you could ever imagine and more.

You almost dozed off when the redhead pushed back and jerked his dick right in front of you, he came right over your face, making it even more messy as he groaned at the sight. You sighed, licking all you could as another orgasm rushed through your body.

By the time he was done and the beard one pulled out, you felt the river of come leaving your body and making a pool under your tired body. They laid next to your tired body, caressing your skin lightly until you stopped trembling in aftershocks, kissing your back and neck, your face and basically every part of you they could reach.

When you three were half recovered, they picked you up, your eyes almost falling shut. One of them carried you bridal style across the forest, your red dress forgotten someplace and your tiny cape covering nothing at all. But his body heat was enough to keep you warm in the freezing Halloween night.

“So… What’s your name?” You let out, and they both laughed.

Maybe not everything was your friend’s fault.

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐛 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐬

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x female reader

rating: explicit

word count: 4.1k

summary: joel agrees to go out to tommy’s favorite bar, where he watches you ride a mechanical bull and wishes you would ride him.

warnings: explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), no use of y/n, dual POV, no defined reader age or physical appearance besides outfits, alcohol use, joel getting slapped, tommy is a little shit, first date anxiety, oral (m receiving), dirty talk, praise, pet names, girl on top, couch sex, unprotected p in v, teasing, deep throating, more men whimpering and begging 2k23. let me know if any warnings are missing!

author’s note: look, i know i’m in the middle of my spooky specials but i saw two very specific tik toks that left me with the need to write this 😵‍💫 also this post layout is inspired by @bits-and-babs, whose works and aesthetic are chef’s kiss.

“Why did you pick this place?” Joel grumbles, hand wrapped around a sweating bottle of beer. People keep jostling him as they squeeze past, forcing him to keep his elbow tight to his side to avoid having his beer be collateral damage.

“You’ll see,” Tommy says with a cryptic wink. Joel rolls his eyes.

Tommy has dragged him out to a saloon style bar, complete with swinging wooden doors and longhorn skulls decorating the walls. Everything is shiny dark wood and western motif, down to the saddle style barstools. Most of the patrons have leaned into the theme, too — tassels, leather, cowboys hats, and ostentatious belt buckles.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen!” A man’s voice calls out over the speakers. “The show is about to begin!”

“Show?” Joel asks dubiously. Tommy only grins at him, dragging him by the arm towards the back of the bar.

He weaves through the crowd until they’re only behind a few rows of people that have gathered around a mechanical bull riding ring, of all things. The floor of the ring is inflatable and in the middle sits the brown bull figure. Joel catches his first glimpse of you, a gorgeous woman in denim cut offs standing beside the bull. Your black leather halter top plunges low to expose your cleavage and stops short of the waist of your shorts, a tantalizing strip of your stomach on display. The black leather of the top matches your black leather boots and the cuffs snapped around your wrists.

“One of Salty Saloon’s very own has stepped up to take the bull by the horns tonight!”

You lift a hand to wave, bright smile on your face as you take in the crowd. Your eyes land on Joel and for a brief moment he swears he stops breathing. He can’t hear anything the emcee is saying, all the noise around him just a dull buzz as he watches you swing yourself up onto the back of the bull.

“Alright, alright, alright! Our rider’s goal is to stay on for one minute using only one hand! If she falls before the buzzer, y’all get nothin’. But if she makes it, shots are half off for the rest of the night!”

A cacophony of cheers erupts around Joel and you straighten your spine, holding your hand out with a thumbs up. The music starts, some pop song he’s heard on the radio in the morning when he’s taking Sarah to school, and the mechanical bull turns in a slow circle. You have one hand twisted in a leather strap, the other raised above your head as the bull bucks and swings, your hips moving smoothly with the machine.

“Goddamn,” someone says from behind Joel. “I ain’t ever wanted to be a bull so bad in my life.”

Me, too, he thinks.

Your thighs press tight against the sides of the bull as it swings around, turning you to face the section of crowd Joel stands in. You release the hand grip, both hands in the air now as you rely solely on your legs and core to keep you up on the machine. When the machine turns again, you manage to lift your body and swing your legs around to reverse your position, now seated facing the back of the bull.

“Alright, ten more seconds!” The emcee calls out. The crowd starts to cheer your name and Joel can’t help but join in, eyes glued to you as you continue to swing and sway like all the movements are nothing but second nature to you.

“Three! Two! One!”

A cowbell goes off, signaling the end of your ride. The bull slows to a stop and you sit there for a moment to catch your breath, waving at the crowd. The bar owner, Johnny, comes out onto the crash pad with a huge grin on his face.

“Great job up there, kid. Now go sell some half priced shots,” he says with a good natured pat on your shoulder.

You return to the bar, where the other two bartenders scheduled tonight field the after-show rush, lining up shot glasses and filling them in quick succession with the requested liquor. When you get behind the bar, a familiar head of curly hair catches your eye.

“Tommy!” You call, excited to see one of you favorite regulars. He shouts your name as you stop in front of him.

“This is my brother, Joel!” He says, slapping the back of the man beside him. You’d seen him in the crowd, a handsome guy with broad shoulders stretching a dark blue t-shirt, warm tan skin, and messy curls that speak to the family resemblance between him and Tommy. You reach a hand across the bar, Joel’s calloused fingers dragging against your palm as you greet the man.

“It’s nice to meet you, Joel. Can I get y’all anything?” You ask. Tommy grins.

“Let me get this man a slap shot!” He yells.

You glance at Joel. “That okay with you?” You ask.

His eyes are comically wide as he nods. You step back to ring the bell behind the bar, your fellow bartenders whooping and cheering, a chant of “SLAP SHOT! SLAP SHOT!” echoing around you.

Haley sets a glass of water on the bar for you and you grab a pint glass, filling it with ice and two ounces of Jim Beam and amaretto. You smack the steel shaker on top, grabbing both glasses and shaking them vigorously over your shoulder.

You strain the contents of the shaker into a shot glass, amber liquid flowing to the brim. When you’ve got everything ready, you leave the back of the bar and squeeze your way through the crowd until you’re in front of the two brothers and can hoist yourself up onto the bar.

“Alright, Joel, are you ready?” You shout. He looks a little confused, brows pinched tight over kind brown eyes, but he nods anyway, holding his hand out for the shot glass. Tommy watches with a shit eating grin. “Three! Two! One!”

Joel takes the shot and you follow it with a glass of water to his face and a slap across his jaw in quick succession. Tommy is howling with laughter and Joel’s face is one of pure shock, red blooming across the skin of his cheek. He turns to his brother.

“Tommy, what the fuck!” Joel shouts. His hand wraps into the neck of Tommy’s shirt. “You little fuckin’ shit!”

You have the sinking realization that Joel wasn’t prepared for what a slap shot entails. You had just assumed this was something Tommy had told him about, having been to the bar so much the last few months.

Joel looks mad as hell, his shoulders tense and you worry he may actually throw a punch at Tommy. You hop from the bar and get between the two men, pressing a hand to their chests and pushing them apart.

"You, come with me," you say, pointing to Joel. "And you," -- you jab a finger into Tommy's chest -- "are on my shit list."

You take Joel by the hand and guide him to the back office, shutting the door and muffling the noises of the bar beyond it. His face is still dripping wet and the water dripping from his chin has gathered into a sizeable spot on the collar of his shirt.

"I am so, so sorry," you start, rifling through the storage cabinet for a bar towel. You hold it out to him, avoiding his gaze. "Tommy comes here so much that I just thought he'd told you about what a slap shot was. I should have told you, oh my god."

"Hey, it's okay. I ain't mad at you," Joel says, running the towel over his damp face. "Tommy, though. I'm gonna kick his fuckin' ass later."

"Still," you mumble, twisting your hands together nervously. "I'm sorry. Is your cheek okay?"

He rubs the towel over his head to dry his hair a bit, the action leaving him adorable mussed, curly strands sticking up in every direction. You're staring at him, maybe a little too much, but who can blame you? The man is hot.

"Yeah, trust me. I've had worse," Joel replies with a laugh.

"You get slapped by women often?" You tease.

"The number of times ain't just one."

"Oh, a bad boy. Mama warned me about guys like you."

He laughs again, long and low, running a hand through his hair. "Well, thank you for the towel."

"Right. And your next drink is on me. As an apology," you tell him.

"I'd rather get your number," he says. "You know, as an apology."

You raise your eyebrows at him before turning to the manager's desk, grabbing a marker and tugging the cap off with your teeth. You slide a hand down his arm, lifting his forearm up so that you can write down your number across the smooth, tan skin.

"I'm off next weekend," you comment when you've recapped the marker.

"I'll keep that in mind," Joel replies with a grin.

Joel's nervous as he waits outside of your apartment building in his truck, fingers tapping a nameless tune against the steering wheel. It's Saturday night and he's here to pick you up for dinner at a restaurant in downtown Austin, one that required he dig out the old black button down he keeps shoved in the back of his closet for parent-teacher conferences and funerals.

The front door to your building opens and you emerge, dressed in a pretty red wrap dress and black heels. Joel gets out of the truck and jogs around to the passenger side to open the door for you and he's surprised when you lean up and kiss him on the cheek.

"Hey," you say in greeting, climbing into the truck and settling into the passenger seat, your purse on your lap. Joel can't help the dopey grin that's surely stretched across his face.

“Hey, yourself. You look nice,” he replies. He shuts the door and jogs around the the driver’s side.

“You don’t look so bad either,” you tell him as he starts the truck up. He can feel his cheeks get warm and he hopes that you can’t see him the proof of his nerves in the dark cab.

At the restaurant, the host leads you both to a small table towards the back of the restaurant, pristine white tablecloth topped with a small vase of flowers and a flickering votive candle. A waiter in a white button down comes by to take your drink orders before disappearing the the kitchen, leaving the two of you regarding each other in silence.

“Look, I gotta be honest about somethin’,” Joel says, leg bouncing beneath the table. “I’ve got a kid. Sarah, she’s thirteen. Light of my life, you know?” He takes a deep breath before finishing with, “And I don’t think I’ve even been on a date since she’s been born, so this is just…a little new to me.”

“You have a kid?” You ask. For a moment Joel worries that he may have ended this before it could even get a chance to begin, but then your face lights up with a sweet smile and you ask, “Will you tell me about her?”

Joel does. In between ordering and eating your delicious meals, you and Joel discuss anything and everything. He tells you about Sarah and his contracting work, while you tell him about your full time job as a pharmacy technician, the gig at the bar a part time thing on some weekends. He nearly makes you snort your water out of your nose with a story about rescuing Tommy from the bathroom of the girl he’d been seeing when her long distance boyfriend, who Tommy didn’t know existed, showed up at her apartment.

“Oh my god,” you exclaim breathlessly. “And he just jumped out of the bathroom window?”

“To be fair, she had a first floor unit,” Joel confirms. “His royal pain in the ass still made me take him to urgent care because he thought he broke his ankle.”

“You’re a good brother,” you say with a smile. Joel feels the warmth of it in his veins.

After dinner, the ride back to your place is quiet, the comfortable silence filled with the low music from the radio. In a moment of bravery, Joel reaches over and lays a hand on your low thigh, just above your knee as he drives. He refuses to look over at you, but from the corner of his eye he sees you look down at his hand before looking back out the window.

He counts that as a win.

He pulls up the curb outside your apartment and kills the engine. You speak before he has a chance to agonize over what to say.

“Will you walk me to my door?” You ask.

He feels relief and anxiety in one fell swoop. He agonizes internally over whether to kiss you goodnight as he follows you up the stairs to your apartment, the buzzing in his brain momentarily silenced while he watches your hips sway as you climb the steps.

You stop on the second floor, guiding him down a long hallway to a door marked with a black metal number three. You turn to face him, looking up at him through your lashes.

“This is me,” you murmur. Joel swallows nervously.

“Right. I, uh…I had a really great time tonight,” he says.

“Would you…want to come inside?”

Joel’s brain short circuits. “Would I—? Yeah.”

You turn to unlock the door, pushing into your apartment and Joel follows you inside. The apartment is dark but you quickly turn on the lights as you move further inside, illuminating an open living room with a dining nook. There’s a door off to the right that he assumes is your bedroom and an open kitchen to the left. It’s small, but it’s cozy, bursting with colors and fabrics and mismatched furniture.

“Well, this is home,” you say with a shrug. You set your purse down on the small circular dining table. “Can I get you anything to drink? I’ve got beer, some liquor on the bar cart over there if you want to have a look.”

“Beer is fine,” Joel says, taking a seat on the comfy looking couch. You return with a bottle of beer, passing it to him before settling in beside him, kicking off your heels and drawing your legs up beneath you.

He takes a sip, fortifying his nerves. He wasn’t lying when he said it’s been a long time since he’s been on a date, but even sex has been a distant thought for the last year or so. He doesn’t want to mess this up.

“So,” you start, your elbow pressed into the back couch cushion while you lean your face into the palm of your hand. “You wanna know what I think?”

“‘Bout what?” Joel asks.

“You.”

“You got a report card ready for me already?”

“I think” — you take the beer bottle from his hand, setting it on the coffee table — “you’ve spent a long time being a caretaker. Right? You’ve got Tommy, who was already a handful. Your daughter, who’s obviously priority number one. You’ve got a business to worry about, workers to care for.” You shuffle closer on your knees, swinging a leg over his and settling yourself onto his lap. “This okay?” You ask.

“Yeah,” he replies, probably a bit too enthusiastically. His fingers curl into the couch cushions and he wants to reach up to wrap his hands around your waist but he’s not sure if he should.

You play with the collar of his shirt. “What do you think about having someone take care of you for a change?”

Joel’s stomach flips, cock jumping in interest as the blood in his brain rushes south and leaves him only capable of responding with a mumbled, “Oh?”

“I just think you deserve someone treating you real nice,” you say with a shrug. Deft fingers work at undoing the buttons of his shirt. “Especially when I was so mean when we met, slapping you across the face like I did.”

“Told you not to worry ‘bout that,” he replies, head dropping against the back cushions. “S’not like I didn’t like it.”

“You like to be roughed up a little, Mr. Miller?”

“Maybe.”

Your grin is wicked as you drag your nails down the now exposed skin of his chest. He hisses at the sting of it.

“Interesting,” you murmur. You lean close, chest pressed against his, hands coming up to frame his face. Your nails scratch through his beard now and he groans his appreciation.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks. “Please?”

You respond by pressing your lips to his, chaste as first. Your mouths move together slowly, feeling each other out. It’s you that takes it deeper, tracing your tongue over his bottom lip and dipping it inside to tangle with his. He wraps his arms around your low back, holding you tightly in his lap as he consumes you, drunk on the feeling of your breath in his lungs.

You drags yours lips away from his with a slick sound, trailing them along his jaw and towards his ear. You nip at his earlobe, teeth gentle and breath hot before whispering, “Can I suck your cock, Joel?”

A whimper claws it’s way up Joel’s throat as he nods, already unable to form words. He’s no stranger to turning into a puddle for a pretty woman but he’s certain this must be a new record.

You slip from his lap and kneel on the floor, pushing his legs apart so that you can settle in between them. Your hands reach for his belt, tugging on the buckle and pulling it loose so that you can pop the button of his jeans and tug the zipper down, the metallic sound loud in the quiet room.

Your fingers curl into the waist of his jeans and Joel lifts his hips a bit to aid you in tugging them halfway down his thighs. His cock tents his boxers in an obscene way, a wet spot already staining the fabric. You run your palms up his thighs before bracketing his member between your hands, lightly running your thumbs up his length.

“Christ,” Joel says, teeth digging into his lip.

“That feel good?” You ask.

“Uh huh.”

You smile beatifically before leaning forward, warm breath on his covered cock as you press gentle kisses through the fabric. Joel’s hips twitch and he lets out a deep groan.

You tug the elastic of his boxers over his length, tucking it beneath his balls. He’s practically vibrating with need but you continue to take your sweet time, pressing more kisses along his shaft, tracing the tip of your tongue over the prominent vein.

“You have a pretty cock, Joel,” you say, wrapping your hand around the base of him to hold him steady. It’s a struggle to keep his eyes open but he doesn’t want to miss the sight of your tongue lapping at the bead of precum gathered on his flushed tip, or the way your own eyes flutter shut as you let out a little moan of appreciation.

You wrap your lips around his cock, taking him inch by agonizing inch into your warm mouth and Joel feels any semblance of sanity disappear from his lust clouded brain. Your eyes stay fixed on him as take him in as far as you can, throat fluttering around the sensitive head when you swallow before pulling up, twirling your tongue around the tip, and plunging back down.

“Christ,” Joel groans, reaching out to cup your cheek. “You look so goddamn good like that.”

You lift off his cock and take it in your hand, moving it across your lips as you ask, “Like what?”

“Chokin’ on my cock, sweetheart,” he growls.

“That was nothing.”

Joel’s about to ask what you mean when you lower your mouth over his length once more. He can feel you flatten your tongue, your throat and jaw relaxing enough to take him to the very base, your nose tickling the wiry curls on his pelvis. He moans as you swallow around him, breathing through your nose and holding yourself there for a moment before coming up with a gasp, tears gathered in the corners of your eyes and spit making your chin shiny in the low light.

“So…I could keep doing this,” you tell him, “or…”

“Or?” He asks.

“Or…you could let me make us both feel good.”

You stand up, your hands untying the knot that holds your dress together so you can push it off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor in a heap. You push your panties down your legs and unhook your bra, leaving you gloriously naked in front him, every inch of you like a piece of art meant to be admired. Joel’s hands, greedy and unfulfilled up until now, reach up to grip your hips and pull you onto his lap, your pussy hot and wet against his cock. He lets his hands wander over every inch of exposed skin, relishing the way your ass fits in his palms and the way you hiss when his thumb caresses a tight nipple.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty,” he moans, his lips against your rapid pulse, teeth ghosting the thin skin of your neck. “Need you so bad, baby.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” you whisper, reaching between your bodies to hold his throbbing cock steady, notching it at your soaked entrance and beginning a slow slide down.

Joel is panting against your sweat slick chest, mumbling desperate words into your skin as you take him inside of you as slowly as you can, thighs burning with the effort. When you’ve finally seated yourself on his lap, his head drops back to the cushion, eyes squeezed shut tightly and fingers nearly bruising on your thighs.

“Don’t move, don’t move, don’t move,” he begs. “Oh, fuck, feels so good.”

Where he’s desperate for you to stay still, you’re already desperate to move. His cock is perfect, thick and long with a slight upward curve, pressing up against your g-spot with stunning accuracy. You’re certain this won’t last long for either of you.

You rock slowly, forward and back, little movements of your hips. Joel lifts his head, looking down at where your bodies are connected with dark eyes. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, tangling your fingers in his hair and giving it a sharp tug that has him hissing your name.

You start to move more quickly, rolling your body in smooth waves over his. He’s panting as he looks up at you, sweat gathering at his temple, and his hands grip your ass and follow your movement reverently.

“So fuckin’ good,” he moans, “you’re gonna make me come, baby, goddamn.”

You speed up, bouncing on his lap now. Your couch creaks the slightest bit, protesting your movements, but you don’t care — all you care about is the man beneath you and the desperate little noises spilling from his lips as you make good on your promise to take care of him.

“Touch me,” you command. “I’m so close, Joel, please.”

He’s a good listener, your Joel, his thumb immediately finding your clit and circling it with messy movements that drive you wild, that tension in your muscles coiling tighter. Joel’s hips flex into yours with each drop down his length, the room echoing with the lewd sounds of skin against skin and the chorus of whimpers that spill from both of you.

“Joel, Joel, Joel,” you chant. He wraps his arms around you, really thrusting into you now as your own movements falter and you collapse forward, head buried against his neck as you come, trembling with the strength of it.

It’s not long after that he goes still, cock pulsing inside of you as the aftershocks of your orgasm wash over you. You stay slumped against each other, catching your breaths and waiting for your racing hearts to come back down to earth.

“That was…,” Joel says with a breathless laugh that shakes his chest. His fingers play up and down your back, soothing and gentle. “Goddamn, that was amazin’.”

“Yeah?” You ask, lifting your head. You smooth his messy hair back from his forehead. “You weren’t so bad either.”

He nips at your neck in retaliation, making you laugh and squirm away from him.

“Do you have to get going?” You ask.

“No,” he replies. “Tommy’s watchin’ Sarah for me tonight. He owes me one. Besides, I’m ain’t done with you yet.”

“No?”

“Not even close, darlin’.”

Joel Miller masterlist

All masterlists

[madelynraemunson]

— along for the ride ☆

🐃 the tag team (co-writers): @joshlmbrt @swiss-mrs @mediocredreams 🩶

eddie x fem!reader

a/n: reading flight of icarus and finding out eddie is from tennessee REALLY husked my corn 🤠 also, this may or may not have been inspired by the bull fight scene in hoard

cw: daydream p in v sex, riding, eddie gets a hard on watching reader ride, innuendos, play on words

Stamina. Strength. Strategy. Safety. The Four Important S’s when it comes to bull-riding. 

‘Support’ is your unofficial fifth. You’ve generated quite the following after showcasing your riding skills at Whisky Jim’s every Saturday night, the ooohs and aaahs of your spectators filling the air as the spotlight drenches your cute… calculated… perspiring body. 

Bull-riding at the dive bar every weekend has become a favorite hobby of yours. It’s a perfect outlet for all the stress, the rough-and-tough of it all perfectly counterbalancing your slow-as-snails, but somehow busy and draining 9 to 5. Riding gave you something to look forward to.

“Look at her go,” an onlooker coos in admiration. “She’s got life by the goddamn horns.”

You toss your head back, glossy lips parted in excitement as the crowd’s appreciative hoots and whistles filled the air.  You could get used to this. You have gotten used to this.

Even with the world at your feet, things were starting to get boring again. And you are constantly craving something wild, something new. Something or someone that will make like the bull by sweeping you off your feet and taking you out for a spin.

Someone like Eddie Munson, perhaps.

Eddie isn’t sure what drew him… here out of all places. But something about the rowdiness compels him as he climbs out of his van, Halen and into the bar, boots scuffing the hard wooden floor. But the flight-risk metalhead is determined to find out, itching for adventure as he saunters with feigned confidence into the southern saloon. 

He flags down the closest bartender, a country heartthrob of a man with black hair and blue eyes. The Casanaova places a coaster down in front of him as Eddie steps up to the plate. “What’ll ya be havin’?”

“Anything local,” Eddie replies, more of a question, unsure of what exactly is available. “Anything hoppy.”

“Bottle or Tap?” the man follows up after a curt nod, mindlessly running a hand over his thick mustache.

“Tap. Pint, please.”  

The bartender gives another nod before disappearing to fulfill Eddie’s request. Meanwhile, the outcast takes this short window of time to look up and down the bar at the different patrons. 

All from different walks of life. But all here for presumably the same reason.Whisky Jim’s is decently packed, but for the most part, the crowd is congregated either in booths, at tables, or in the middle of the floor.

A glass is placed onto the coaster. The same deep country twang effectively regains Eddie’s attention.

“Wanna start a tab, brother?” The older man asks with a polite grin, eyes crinkling up at the sides as he does. 

Eddie offers a polite smile in return.

“Uh, sure. Thanks.” 

The bartender studies him intently this time, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“First timer?”

 Eddie clears his throat uneasily, kicking at the peanut casings at his feet to avoid contact with the John Wayne of a man that was in front of him.

“Obvious?” 

The man cackles at Eddie, the slight patronization of the old-timer’s demeanor making him want to evaporate. But the amused blue eyes and downturned smile indicates it’s all in good fun, much like his uncle Wayne who always liked giving him a hard time whenever he made himself too small. 

“Son, you couldn’t stick out further if you were a dog’s balls.” 

A fellow bartender laughs at the man’s remark. Then Eddie joins in. It was pretty funny. 

“You just don’t really look like the kind to be into square dancin’, is all,” the bartender remarks as he narrows his eyes at Eddie. Eddie shrugs and takes a sip of his beer, slightly wincing as the first sip hits him.

“Well, you’re not wrong. Just thought I’d explore a bit outside of my usual.” 

“What’s your name, kid?”

“Eddie.”

“Greg.” The bartender gives him his hand to shake. “You from around here or you comin’ from outta town?” 

“Hawkins.” 

“Not too far from home then. And it seems you came on a good night.” 

And as if on cue, the crowd towards the middle of the building erupts in cheers. Eddie briefly glances over his shoulder in the general direction before turning back to Greg with a curious head tilt.

“What’s happening?” 

Greg nods his head over in the direction of the crowd.

“Bull Ridin’ Night.”

Your thighs are wrapped around the firm leather seat as you’re whisked around in one fluid motion. You turn to give your rapt audience a wink. The crowd eats up your presence, evident by the adorn kisses they blow your way. You buy into the theatrics, pretending to catch them before putting them in your back pocket for later. It only riles the audience up more.

“They bring that thing out on Saturdays,” Greg explains. “Between the Karaoke Nights and the Hoedowns, Bull Ridin’ is one of the most popular.”

 Eddie tries another glance in that direction, but due to the crowd, he doesn’t have the best view of who is actually riding.

 “You gon’ give it a try?”

 Eddie’s head whips back around to the older man to find a teasing smirk on his face. Eddie shakes his head.

“I… don’t think so.” He chuckles. “I’m not the most balanced or coordinated person.” He admits that with a grimace and another sip of his Hawkins Pale Ale. 

“I’m just teasin’ ya, boy. HEY!” Greg whistles at the bartender next to him. “Who’s up there now?” 

 The coworker throws a quick glance over their shoulder before replying. There’s a bashful smirk when they reply, 

“Who do you think?” 

The crowd erupts again, cheers and whistles alike. Who else gets this kind of crowd engagement? No one else other than you, of course. 

“Looks like my girl is up there breakin’ hearts again.” Greg lets out a soft laugh. 

Eddie gulps as his breathing shallows. A girl? Up there? On that thing?

Eddie, once again, nearly strains his neck trying to get a glimpse of the rider. When he fails, Eddie turns back to the bar, downing the final quarter of his pint, before looking back at Greg.

“Fetch me a bottle for the road, yeah?”

 Greg issues him a chuckle, grabbing the empty glass and handing him a bottle version of that very ale, while Eddie sets off on his curiosity journey to the middle of the floor.

“Boys will be boys.” Greg’s female coworker remarks with sassy pursed lips.

Eddie closes in on the crowd,  slipping through the few empty spaces between the onlookers with half-assed ‘Excuse me’s. Though no one was paying him any mind. And when he settles by the barrier, just a mere two rows behind, he finally gets the perfect view of you.

Eddie couldn’t fight the grin that spread across his face at the sight of you working the crowd. He watches as you give a practiced flick of your hips to get the crowd going and the enticing jiggle of your breasts under your tight shirt. Drew in Eddie’s eyes like a laser beam. The thin material was stretched taut, giving a hint of the perfect tits underneath as you arched your lower back and thrust your chest forward to keep your balance. 

“Christ,” he exhales sharply, in awe of your natural performance, the boisterous, unpredictable gravity of the machine whirling you around as you wrestle to hold on. 

His eyes drink in the sight of the soft, rounded curve of your ass that peeked out of the bottom of your faded Daisy Duke’s as you lean forward to steady yourself in the saddle.

WHOOSH!

The bull jerks sideways and you flex your thighs and circle your hips in the saddle to keep yourself astride. The plush skin of your upper thighs press tightly against the seat and your upper body sways in rhythm with the bull’s movement. 

You were born to ride.

“That’s how you do it, Indiana!” a spectator hoots in adoration as you cling on for dear life. “That’s how you do it!”

You give a deep roll of your hips to meet the thrust of the machine, causing Eddie to run the tip of his tongue along his bottom lip before sucking in a shaky breath. Your hips… the way they roll… is almost hypnotic, and Eddie’s brown doe eyes can’t help but linger on the sliver of skin that peeks out, black, intricate swirls of cyber-sigilism that tease him slightly. 

Fuck.

“God, she’s so pretty…” he thinks to himself. “And she knows how to ride.”

Eddie’s eyes trail to the white of your knuckles, his own fingers gripping the bottle of his beer when his eyes slide up your arm and land on your face.

The front of his pants start to feel uncomfortably tight. Eddie adjusts himself as discreetly as he could, but even the soft brush of his fingers against the strained denim causes  him to hiss under his breath.

“Ride it, cowgirl!” an audience’s comment centers Eddie once again. “LET ‘EM KNOW!”

The way you matched the bull’s gyrations and anticipated its every move made him weak in the knees, and as he watched you swirl your hips in the saddle like a modern day Annie Oakley he couldn’t help but wish it was him straddled between your shapely thighs instead. 

As Eddie stood there watching, the dull roar of the crowd faded into the background. At that moment it was just you and him. 

In his mind he’s already lassoed you to his bed; and you’re sat astride him like a cowgirl in your saddle, hands splayed on his chest for balance as you lowered yourself onto his throbbing cock. And you’d bite down on your plush lower lip and let out a soft moan as you sank down onto him slowly, taking your time and adjusting to his size. 

“Oh, Eddie,” he could almost hear you purring. “It’s so big.”

And he’d chuckle with false modesty and rub a hand tenderly along your thigh as if to soothe the delicious stretch of his thick girth.Then once you adjusted, you’d move, meeting each unpredictable roll of his hips with your own as you mastered the rhythm of your very own long-haired bucking bronco.

And he’d be gripping you tight with each deep thrust, pistoning, plowing himself into you while watching his cock disappear into your slick pussy over and over with each forceful snap of his hips. And with every strained mewl he milks out of you he’d press you down by the hips and drill into you further, your weak cunt just about ready to tap out on top of him. This handsome bull’s sure a challenge, you’d be thinking to yourself. Eddie is a ride you wouldn’t be able to survive.

———

The crowd disperses when the show is over. Eddie stands a bit straighter when you finally leave the middle of the floor, eyes darting towards the plush smirk that your soft lips create. If it’s even possible, he thinks you look even more heavenly. He’s sure you don’t even realize what you’re doing to him. 

Little does he know that for you, he’s taken that same effect. You’ve grown so accustomed to everyone here that a new face has captured your attention. And you felt him staring at you, with a gaze so impassioned that you just about almost lost your footing up there. But you pulled it off real well, attempting to shake off the redirection in the form of a dramatic bounce of your tits.

It perplexes you. A man making you that nervous? Up until late, it’s become rather unheard of. You want to know this man and see for yourself what his energy is all about.

Eddie finds himself fixing his appearance when he notices your legs striding over, clearing his throat as his palm slides over the stubble that he had been trying to grow. 

“You know it’s kinda rude to stare the way that you do,” you remark.

“How so?” Eddie challenges. “Everyone else is doing it. What makes me different from everybody?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” you smile at him.

Eddie shifts his weight onto the counter, bringing the bottle up to his lips, taking another gulp. His eyes dart everywhere -- the metal buckle of your belt, the skin that was shiny with dried sweat, your hands that tap at the sticky countertop of the bar, the way your lips wrap around the tip of your bottle and the liquid that slips out and down your chin that he greedily wanted to tongue away. 

“Funny,” you observe. “I’m here every Saturday and I’ve never once seen your face.”

He thinks he’s looking over at an angel, really, heart beating faster when he realizes it’s him that you’d made an effort to come up to. Made an effort to get to know.

“Interesting that you saw me.”

“I see everything from up there. And you’re a newcomer, I can tell. Sticking out like a sore thumb in the best way.”

You invite him into your energy, closing up the distance between the two of you with a graceful stride in his direction.

“You were amazing,” Eddie says to you. “Really know how to put on a show, cowgirl.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Eddie insists. “Spotlight loves you. Killer crowd engagement as well.”

“You a performer too?”

“Depends who’s asking.”

“Mmm, I don’t know…” you sigh dreamily. “Just a fellow performer lookin’ for some tips and pointers.”

Not much needs to be said to know that you two ache for each other, judging by how the intimate dive bar grows non-existent for as long as you two are captured in the forcefield of each other. Eddie thinks that there would be absolutely nothing better than giving you some pointers, his hand leaving the bottle, some of the liquid sloshing around the precipitating glass, heart pounding in his ears as he nods quickly. One rowdy night wouldn’t hurt anybody, he thinks to himself. And it’s very apparent that, the stunner that is you, wants take him for a spin.

“So what do you say, cowboy?” you cock an eyebrow at him. “Why don’t we ride off into the sunset, just you and me?”

dividers by: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more @saradika @mikeykuns

[intromortal]

⸻𝐈𝐍 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒

a-n ! this is mostly for tracking and tag list purposes. these will all take a while because they're all on the longer side and are subject to change!! + i'm a slow writer and often very busy. but it's still fun to show you guys what i'm working on :) taglists for all of these are open!

⸻ CASHMERE COLOGNE. pjs

PAIRING: bodyguard!jay x reader

GENRE: ⚠︎ smut. mdni. angst, fluff, bodyguard!au, (escaping an) arranged marriage!au

SYNOPSIS: falling for his client is definitely not part of jay's job requirements. quite the opposite actually. especially when said client is soon to be married off to super rich, super talented, super hot park sunghoon.

STATUS: writing

WORDCOUNT: currently 5k, total est. around 30k

warnings + more wips under the cut

WARNINGS: multiple smut scenes, self-doubt, reader is an artist, she’s also shameless, voyeurism, exhibitionism, masturbation (f), spit, things happen in a car, reckless driving, public sex, use of ma’am, edging, orgasm denial, protected and unprotected sex, snowballing ...more to be added

⸻ TOO GOOD TO PUT A PRICE ON IT. yjw, psh

PAIRING: stepbro!sunghoon x reader x camboy!jungwon

GENRE: ⚠︎ smut. mdni. roomate!au

SYNOPSIS: you would be crazy to turn down free rent in exchange of getting fucked daily by the guy you've been pining after for months, but your step brother happens to want something in return too.

STATUS: outlined

WORDCOUNT: around 10k

WARNINGS: stepcest, live-streamed sex, threesome, yes reader fucks sungwon for rent bitch i would too! ...more to be added

⸻PUSSY JACKPOT! pjs + rest of hyungline

PAIRING: bf's best friend!jay x reader, bf!jake x reader, stepbrothers!sunghoon and heeseung x reader. jay focused.

GENRE: ⚠︎ smut. mdni.

SYNOPSIS: you spend an extravagant night with jake and his friends at a casino to celebrate his latest promotion. it takes a wild turn when your sweet boyfriend decides to go all in and bet on your even sweeter pussy, knowing how all of his friends, even your stepbrothers, have been dying for a taste. no matter who wins though, you know it's gonna be you hitting the jackpot.

STATUS: outlining

WORDCOUNT: tbd

WARNINGS: infidelity, semi-public sex, stepcest, rest of hyungline get to watch ...more to be added

⸻ BUCKLE BUNNY RODEO. pjs

PAIRING: pro bull rider!jay x bartender!reader

GENRE: ⚠︎ smut. mdni.

SYNOPSIS: the yearly PBR world finals hits your hometown again, and as always you find yourself dealing with all the losers coming to your bar to drown their sorrows in alcohol. things take an interesting turn when the winner shows up and challenges you to beat the shabby mechanical bull at the center of the overcrowded bar, promising you an even wilder ride upstairs if you're willing to take his offer.

STATUS: outlining

WORDCOUNT: tbd

WARNINGS: alcohol consumption, body shots, temperature play, facesitting, spit, cowboy jay has chest hair argue with the wall!! ...more to be added

↳ PART TWO. sjy, lhs

SYNOPSIS: it's been a year, and jay's fellow pro bull riders want a ride too, after hearing so much about you from their dearest friend. and who are you to refuse them, when they're talking so sweet and dirty?

WARNINGS: heejake take turns, wet humping, like very wet, thigh fucking, tit fucking, oral (m. rec) ...more to be added

⸻ LAST TRAIN TO LONDON. pjs

PAIRING: immortal!jay x mortal!reader

GENRE: angst w an hopeful ending, fluff, ⚠︎ smut, soulmate!au, reincarnation!au

SYNOPSIS: in some lives you're a painter, in others you're a musician, a writer. in some you get to grow old, maybe away from jay, maybe right beside him. in some you get to love him until your last breath, even when you're young and stupid. you're all over the world, all over time and all over jay's heart, for he lives and breathes to love you in every lifetime of yours, even if you don't remember. he always looks for you yet it's always fate bringing you back to him, this time it's by making sure you don't miss the last train to london.

STATUS: outlining

WORDCOUNT: tbd

WARNINGS: tbd

⸻ EACH TIME YOU FALL IN LOVE. psh

PAIRING: sunghoon x reader ( + jay )

GENRE: angst, very minimal fluff, ⚠︎ smut,

SYNOPSIS: the sun shines bright even in the face of death, your most beloved husband cold in his casket despite the warmth of the weather, and sunghoon wishes circumstances were different.

or, you and sunghoon ponder on what could have been.

STATUS: outlined

WORDCOUNT: tbd

WARNINGS: old people😞, multiple character deaths ...more to be added

⸻𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒

⸻ MOTION PICTURE SOUNDTRACK. sjy

PAIRING: co-star!jake x movie star!reader

GENRE: angst, eventual fluff and ⚠︎ smut, fake dating, rivals to lovers.

SYNOPSIS: jake has to be the most infuriating, cocky, stuck up actor you've had the displeasure to work with so far. and you wish you'd just rejected your role when your pr teams have the fantastic idea to push the limits on those... relationship rumors about you and your horrible coworker that have spread like wildfire everywhere.

STATUS: outlining

WORDCOUNT: total est. 60k

WARNINGS: tbd

⸻ A LITTLE DEATH. yjw

PAIRING: trained assassin!jungwon x trained assassin!reader

GENRE: ⚠︎ smut, mdni. angst, rivals to lovers!au, rival families!au, found family trope

SYNOPSIS: your time at the academy is up and the choice of the companion for your graduation mission is ripped away from your hands without a notice, gifting (cursing) you instead with three less than ideal ones. or, jungwon feels a little more human every time your touch lingers on his skin

STATUS: writing

WORDCOUNT: current 11k, total est probably some shit like 150k i'm sick

WARNINGS: multiple smut scenes, character death, morally grey characterization, childhood trauma, dysfunctional families ...more to be added

⸻ ENHYPEN AS SEASONS. hyungline + sunwon ↳ where i assign the members to a season and make fics out of it ! all of these contain smut but also tooth rotting levels of fluff jsjejdje i'm sorry this isn't me usually!! what happened!!!

• SUNGHOON AS WINTER / hockey player!sunghoon

↳ your younger brother brings you along on a snowy new year's eve trip to the mountains with his hockey teammates in hopes of finally getting you and sunghoon to get along.

• JAKE AS SPRING / florist!jake

↳ jake feels it's his duty to smooth out that frown on your face when you first meet him, as the self proclaimed town-happy-pill. he loves his job like nothing else, driving around in his flower delivery truck right along with layla, making everyone's days better. while you can't stand how bright he is all the time, what the hell is his deal anyway?

• HEESEUNG AS SUMMER / beachside barista!heeseung

↳ bleached hair, salt water, warm sun and sand between his toes. waves crashing, the buzz of alcohol and muffled thumping of music, heeseung loves summer every time all the same. this year you just happen to make it so much better, and even when he knows you're only there for this vacation, he hopes you can stay and warm him up for the colder seasons too.

• JAY AS FALL / ex!jay

↳ your friends convince you to try your local coffee shop's new blind date experience, months after your very first heartbreak. you don't expect your ex to be your match. or, mending a relationship turns out to be a lot more trouble than resolving murder mysteries.

! bonuses

• SUNOO AS SPRING BREAK / ex childhood bff!sunoo

↳ truthfully, leaving for a different college after promising you'd go to the same one in hopes of quenching his feelings from blossoming further wasn't sunoo's best move. or, sunoo is itching to finally be back home.

• JUNGWON AS CHRISTMAS / frenemy!jungwon

↳ it's no secret that you and jungwon butt heads constantly, and your friends have gotten quite annoyed by your antics. so what better way to resolve this if not assigning you two to be each other's secret santas? or, everyone is a little kinder once christmas comes around.

[nellielsss]

+†+🪦 A Pɾσρҽɾ Bʅαƈƙ Bυʅʅ Wҽʅƈσɱҽ!

Summary: when you date a Magic Knight Captain, it's only a matter of time until you meet their Knights! A/N: just some fluff for Yami! I tried to include as many characters as I could but I'm still getting used to writing multiple chars in one scene. Pairing: Yami Sukehiro x fem!reader CW: swearing, suggestive jokes

╰┈➤ "Is this really where Suke lives?" you asked nobody as you approached his base. "He's always told me not to visit, but this place is just... creepy. Still, I feel bad for making him visit me all the time. Why not pay him a surprise visit?"

You had been dating the famed Captain of the Black Bulls, Yami Sukehiro, for a few months--4 to be exact--and things were starting to get serious with him.

But they were never serious enough for you to meet his squad.

Sure, you had seen them in passing, tagging along with him on missions, but you've never met the Black Bulls in person. It was like they were his kids that he never wanted you to meet for whatever reason. Whenever you tried to ask him if you could meet them, he'd always say: "Nah, not happening. I don't need you meeting those knuckleheads; they'd probably blabber some stupid story and scare you off, and I don't need that."

For the better part, he actually made the effort to go and see you wherever you were. He'd venture as many miles as needed in order to do so. He also just never introduced you to the public in general because he was scared of someone going after you for a vendetta or revenge against Yami (he was a man with many enemies, after all). So, he was content with just going on private dates in secluded bars or spending the night at your place. Any chance he could take to spend time with you, he'd snatch it right up.

Why did you venture to the secretive Black Bulls hideout in the first place? Well, Yami had been busy with training for a while. The missions were swamping him, and his efforts to keep the devils at bay were, inadvertently, keeping your relationship at bay as well. He never had any time to leave the hideout unless it was to go on a mission or to an official summons, and because you were basically forbidden from going to HQ, it meant all you could do was communicate via letters.

And you were sick and tired of it.

You were an impatient girl. You didn't like being basically banned from seeing your boyfriend, no matter how legitimate his causes or concerns were.

You haven't had dick in ages--you were starting to lose feeling down there!! And lord knows his dick was good, so good it left you unable to walk on several occasions.

But you weren't there just to fuck him (although it was a big bonus of dating him); you were there to mend your little broken heart.

So, that's how you wound up on their doorstep. You went at a time which you knew it'd be empty, so you were sure you wouldn't have to meet those bulls. Even if he, himself, was out, you could just wait in his room as a little welcome home surprise.

"I don't suppose I have to knock before entering," you muttered, grabbing the latch of the door and opening the giant wooden slab. Just as you'd expected: the place was empty. Not a peep to be heard throughout the entire tower of oddly shaped rooms and windows that were jutting out of the wrong places.

"Well, this sure ain't too bad. I thought it'd be in ruins by the way Suke described it," you thought to yourself. As you stepped on the cobblestone floors and ventured inside the place, you took note of it. It had a certain charm to it, like a cozy tavern you'd seek refuge from a storm in. There were torches lit up by mana, different flags hanging from the walls, and a big bar in the left side of the room. "If he wasn't so protective of me, I could imagine myself living here with him..."

"Hello... who are... you?" a ghostly voice suddenly said from the hallway.

"Gah! Wait- is it seriously haunted? Was Sukehiro telling me the truth this whole time?!" You immediately hid behind a couch when you saw the mint-haired man standing there.

"I'm... not... a... ghost! I... keep... this... place... running," the ghost said.

"Are you sure? Because you certainly don't look too- gah!" this time, you were surprised to feel that all your mana was being drained from you, simply by being close to the man.

"I'm.. sorry... I... drain... people's... mana... on... accident. Don't... stand... too... close."

"Figured as much," you muttered, somehow able to break free from the man's mana pull. "I knew I shouldn't have come here... I thought all of you would be out for the day."

"You... didn't... answer... my... question. Who... are... you?"

"Oh, right... sorry about that," you said, rubbing the back of your neck, "I'm, uh... I'm Captain Yami's girlfriend. I came here hoping that none of you would be around, but it seems as though I made a mistake. I thought all of you would be on missions for sure!"

The man's ghostly face lit up in surprise when he realized who you were. "Oh! I... know... you... or, at least... I've... heard... of you... Captain Yami's... always... talking... about... some girl... who... he's... been... dating. We all... just... thought... that he... was... lying."

"You seriously thought that he was lying?" you asked in disbelief. "Then again, he is an acquired taste... Anyway, what's your name?"

"My... name's... Henry. I... don't... go on... missions... because... I'm... too... weak, and I'm... bound... to... this... house."

"Too weak?" you asked, feeling a bit sorry for the guy. "Jeez, that must suck. Anyway, Henry, nice to meet you- ahhh!!" he started draining your mana on accident again and you pulled away.

"Sorry..."

"It's fine, Henry; I forgot about your little quirk," you reassured him with a wave of the hand.

"You're... really... pretty. Too... pretty... to... be... dating the... Captain," Henry remarked, making you snicker.

"Well, thank you, Henry! Yeah, you probably couldn't picture him and I together, if I'm being honest. I guess I just have a thing for oblivious brutes," you giggled, making him smile in return. "Anyway, I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell Captain Yami about my impromptu appearance; he doesn't want me hanging around you guys. Somethin' about 'putting me in danger'? As if I could be put in danger," you remarked rather confidently. "I'm not really the type to submit to his wishes all that easily, but he seemed pretty serious about keeping our relationship under wraps. If you don't mind me, I'll be on my merry way-"

"Wait...! The... others... are... supposed to be... back... soon! You'll... get... caught... if you... don't... hide!" Henry warned you suddenly.

"H-Huh? Really?!" you asked him, already freaking out.

As if on cue, you could hear several voices chattering from the other side of the door, and you looked around in panic, trying to find a hiding spot. Henry was blocking the hallway, and if you got too close to him, you'd probably faint on the spot. You tried to hide behind the bar, only for the door to literally break down as the rowdy Black Bulls made their way home. You knew they were loud, but you didn't know that they were the type to break down doors! At the sight of the bunch, you instinctively froze up in fear, akin to a deer in headlights. You ducked for the nearest couch, hoping that they'd choose to go in the opposite direction.

"Did you guys see the way I took that guy down?! It was awesome! I totally surpassed my limits out there!!" A rather enthusiastic, short boy said to the others. That must've been Asta: the anti-magic user.

"You were pretty good out there--not that I'm complimenting you or anything! I'm still royalty compared to you," a similarly short girl with silver hair said. Based on how she was jabbing the boy with her words, that was probably Noelle.

"Just you wait, Asta--I'm gonna get stronger than you!" another guy with a mohawk and glasses said. Magna, if you weren't mistaken.

"I'd like to see you try to get stronger than him! If you do, then I'll spar with you until I get even stronger!" a blonde boy with a psychopathic smile quipped. Luck.

"Just don't go around breaking shit, okay, you numbskulls?" your oh-so handsome boyfriend Yami Sukehiro sighed. "We don't have the money to keep repairing the damage you guys cause."

"I'm going to go worship my sister, Marie," a guy with an apparent sister complex said: Gauche, to be precise.

"What a weirdo," you said to yourself. A few of their heads turned in the direction of your voice, and you hid your entire body behind the couch.

"What was that?"

"Whatever it was, it was telling the truth."

"If you boys don't mind, I'm gonna go have a drink at the bar!" a female voice said, her words already slurred.

"Aren't you already drunk, Vanessa?" another guy asked the witch.

"What's one more drink, Finral? You should come join me!" she replied. You quickly realized you were in deep shit when you remembered that the couch you were hiding behind was right next to the bar.

Well, this is the end, you thought. There was no way you could hide from these guys now. Even if you tried to make a run for it, your boyfriend was right there, and he'd probably teach you a lesson!!

You braced yourself for when the witch, Vanessa, would see you... which was right at that moment. "Umm, guys? Why is there a stranger hiding behind our couch?"

Your eyes shot open in fear, and you looked up at the girl, your face red with embarrassment. "Vanessa, what are you talking about? Are you seriously seeing things?- Oh, hubba, hubba!" the guy named Finral said once he saw you. "If I knew that cute girls would be sneaking into our hideout, I'd leave the door unlocked more often!"

One by one, all the Black Bulls clamored around the couch, wondering who, exactly, the two were talking about. They were all in wonder until Yami came over. Oh, how you dreaded this from the moment you walked in...

"(Y/N)--what the hell are you doing in my base?!" said boyfriend asked, making you flinch with how loudly he asked that question.

"Heh... hi, Suke," you said quietly, only for the man to pick you up by the scruff of your collar and make you stand up.

"Wait, do you actually know that girl, Captain Yami?" Finral asked the man.

"He sure does..." you said meekly.

"Yeah, I do," he sighed. He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. "Great, this is just what I needed: my Bulls slobbering all over my girlfriend..."

"Did you just say GIRLFRIEND?!" all of them asked in unison.

"I guess there's no time like the present," the man finally relented. Yami stopped pinching his nose and instead wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you next to him. "Everyone, this is my girlfriend of four months."

"GIRLFRIEND OF FOUR MONTHS?!"

"I didn't even know a woman could stand to be in your presence, let alone for that amount of time!" Noelle exclaimed.

"So, you mean to tell me that you bagged a babe like her?! Captain, you need to give me your secrets!!!" Finral said, practically on the verge of losing it at this revelation.

"Don't call my girlfriend a babe, pipsqueak!"

"THIS IS SO COOL!! SO YOU MEAN TO TELL US THAT YOU WEREN'T LYING ABOUT HAVING A GIRLFRIEND ALL THIS TIME?!" Asta exclaimed, his voice drowning out everyone else's questions. "PLEASED TO MAKE YOUR ACQUAINTANCE, MA'AM--MY NAME IS ASTA AND I'M FROM HAGE VILLAGE, AND YOU ARE VERY BEAUTIFUL!!"

"Stop yelling in my girlfriend's ear, are you trying to make her go deaf?!" Yami asked Asta before grabbing his lips and shutting him up forcefully.

"Would you like to spar with me?!" Luck asked, way too enthusiastically for his own good.

"How about a drink?" Vanessa asked.

"A nice, warm meal would be a great welcome for her!" Charmy proposed.

"I don't care if you're Yami's girlfriend: if you touch my sister Marie, I'll kick your ass," Gauche threatened you directly.

"Creep..." Yami muttered. "For the love of the Wizard King, all of you get off of her and stop harassing her with all your questions!!" he barked, now pissed off at the situation.

"Yes, Captain Yami, sir," all of them said, piping down finally.

"This is exactly why I didn't introduce her to all of you; none of you know how to act properly!" Yami yelled again, this time gritting his teeth in anger. You could tell he was getting riled up, so you put your hand on his chest and silently told him to calm down. His frustrated expression settled down to a simple frown, and he offered you a tiny smile. "Sorry, princess."

"I've never seen someone rein him in so easily," one of the bulls remarked in wonder.

"It's clear that Yami appreciates this woman and that we should treat her with the same respect with which we'd treat one of our own," Gordon whispered. Everyone still side-eyed him for how quiet he was being.

Yami took a deep breath and faced his subordinates again. "Anyway, this is my girlfriend of 4 months: (Y/N) (L/N). I expect all of you to treat her with the same respect you'd treat me, just as Gordon said." Everyone nodded, and for once he didn't feel like bashing their heads in.

"Captain Yami, if you don't mind me asking: how come we haven't met her before if she's so important to you?" one of them asked this time.

"Because, if I introduced her to all of you, one of you would blabber your mouths, and then word would get out that I had a girlfriend. That would put her in some serious danger, considering how many foes we face and enemies we have," Yami explained--and quite calmly at that. "And I like keeping my personal life separate from my life as Captain. I don't want the two to intermingle, even if both lives are equally important to me."

"I guess that makes sense..."

You decided that it was your turn to speak: "truth be told, Suke's always been so overprotective of me. He thinks I'm some delicate little flower who needs to be guarded at all costs, even if I'm a stage 0 mage. It's honestly ironic, considering how his type is strong women," you added with a giggle.

"Well, I can't let you get hurt because of me, princess," he said to you quietly. "Even if you are strong, there's always the chance that someone might go looking for you."

"Look at him, he's so protective of her! It's honestly kinda cute," Vanessa remarked, taking another sip of her drink. Yami merely glared at her before looking at all of them again.

"How come she found out about the base if you're so protective of her? Isn't its location supposed to be private?"

This was a question meant for you, it seemed, even if it was directed at Yami. "Well... your horse and buggy's a little quick to give up information if you're pretty enough," you giggled mischievously, playing with your hair as if you were innocent.

"Finral!" Yami said through gritted teeth.

"I-I just figured she was curious!" the boy said, trembling at the possibility of being punished by their Captain.

"I guess I just have my ways," you giggled again. "I couldn't stay away from my boyfriend for too long, not when I have needs!" you shot a wink at Yami, and all he could do was blush in place.

"I don't even wanna know what those needs are..."

"Don't speak of such things around my sister, Marie," Gauche quipped, making you furrow your brow.

"She's not even here--that's a picture you're holding!!"

"She's here in spirit."

"Stop starting fights when we have guests," Noelle interjected, being the voice of reason for once. She then decided to ask you a question. "So, I simply have to know: what possessed you to date the man for four months? From what I've seen, he's not the most perceptive man out there!"

"Noelle, you can't just say that about our captain in front of his girlfriend!" Asta said to Noelle.

She huffed in response. "As if you'd be any better!!"

"Slander my name to her like that and I'll kill both of you," Yami threatened them, making them both jump.

"But I didn't even do anything wrong!" Asta whined defensively.

"To be honest," you started, making everyone look at you again. "I was the one who initially had a crush on him. I know he's not everyone's type, but he sure is mine. Anyway, it was kinda hard getting him to notice my feelings for him. In the end, all it took was for me to simply confess my feelings for him and hope that he'd reciprocate them! And Suke may not look like the boyfriend type, but he's actually the most caring and considerate man I've ever met; he just doesn't show any of you that side... At least, not as forwardly as he does to to me."

Noelle thought about your words, and she couldn't exactly do anything but take your word for it. "If you say so... But, I still just don't get it! You're so... pink, and he's so... whatever he is!"

"Well, everyone has their type," you shrugged.

"But, how do you deal with his bowel issues?"

"Noelle!"

You couldn't help but giggle at her question. "By buying extra toilet paper, of course!"

"(Y/N)..." Yami trailed off, embarrassed by the topic. "All of you: bowel issues are no laughing matter! I go through battles every single day in that room."

"Yeah, we know."

After the Black Bulls laughed at your little statements, he decided to move on to the next part: "alright, enough of a Q&A session. Since you came all this way, I'd imagine you'd be staying over for dinner?"

Your stomach growled in response to his question. "Oh, yes, please. I'm starving--this place is so far from the nearest town!"

"Not to worry, my fair lady!" Charmy suddenly said, standing up on the table. "Chef Charmy here will cook up an amazing feast to welcome you to our humble abode!"

You looked at Charmy and then at Yami. "Can the half-dwarf really do that--cook well?"

"Oh, you'd be surprised. Her food is rich with mana."

"Fear not," Charmy repeated, "for you deserve a proper Black Bull welcome!"

Just as Yami promised you: Charmy cooked up a feast fit for several kings from far away lands and then some. Her cotton magic combined with her food magic made for plenty of meals and dishes to go around, and, although simplistic in their nature, each meal left you wanting more.

You were, of course, seated beside your boyfriend Yami (you were almost touching him), and the pink-haired witch, Vanessa, decided to sit on the other side. "You simply must try this drink, (Y/N)!"

"Oh, I don't drink much, but thanks for the offer," you said. Your efforts were in vain, seeing as she had already filled your cup.

"Don't overdo it, princess. I don't want you stumbling about the place. Y'know, since you can't really handle your liquor," Yami warned you.

"I'll try not to, Suke."

After filling up your cup, Vanessa decided to ask you a boatload of questions, as did all the other Black Bulls. Asta asked you about your family back at home; Vanessa asked you about your relationship; Luck asked you about your fighting skills; Gordon asked if he could be your friend (and make a doll that resembled you?); etc. All the other Bulls asked you unique questions that were different according to their personalities and interests, and you were happily to answer all of them. It wasn't everyday that you got to talk about your wonderful relationship!

As the night settled down, though, a certain personal question was asked by a certain witch who was to your right. "So, (Y/N), I hope you don't mind me asking you this, but... are you happy in your relationship?" It was on brand for the witch, considering that she liked to talk about relationships and was also quite drunk.

"Vanessa, don't ask those kinds of questions," Yami warned the witch. "You've just met her-"

You answered it, though, regardless of how personal it was. Maybe it was the alcohol that opened you up more, but you gave her a smile and said: "more than you could imagine, Vanessa. Suke makes me happy in ways I cannot imagine. Brash as he might be, he still cares for me, and I can see that he also cares about the lot of you in his own special way. You're his family, after all; I'm just the lucky girl who he chose to open up to." It was more than you intended to say, but it got the point across pretty well. You took another sip of your drink, unaware of the way that they looked at you.

"Wow, that's... I sure am glad that you're happy!" Vanessa exclaimed, throwing her arm around your shoulder (and almost falling out of her chair).

"We all are, (Y/N)," Noelle also said with a slight smile.

"We might've just met you, but if you're a friend of Captain Yami's, then you're a friend of ours!" Asta exclaimed.

"I hope we can be great friends," Gordon whispered.

With each praise, each remark of approval, you couldn't help but smile at them. Truth be told, you'd been longing for a group of people who you could call home. Much like Noelle, you, too, had been shunned by your family for reasons you couldn't explain. Yami had been your lighthouse, your guiding rock all this time, but the idea that there was a whole other group out there who you could lean on for support kept your spirits up.

You might've just met them, but you already felt at home.

"Welcome to the fold, kid," Yami muttered into your ear before kissing the skin behind it.

Now that dinner was all cleaned up and over with, the two of you retired to Yami's bedroom. He shut the door behind him quietly, breathing a sigh of relief. "(Y/N), you have no idea the heart attack you almost gave me back there." Although he let the stoic mask drop and be replaced by the softness that he showed you, he still couldn't help but scold you. "Seriously--I wasn't prepared to introduce you to all of them."

"I didn't mean to surprise you like that, I just... look, I planned on sneaking in and going to your room and surprising you there. I wanted to see you--you've been so busy these past few weeks! I really didn't mean to meet them so early," you said, taking your earrings off and putting them on the nightstand.

Yami took the opportunity to sneak behind you and wrap his arms around your body. "I know I've been busy, princess; I would've snuck you in if you asked me to, though."

"I was impatient, Suke. You know how long those letters take to deliver; I wanted to see you today."

He didn't scold you; rather, he chuckled deeply and pressed his lips to the top of your head. "Well, aren't you an impatient princess?"

"You gave me that title, Sukehiro," you quipped, making him chuckle again.

"I guess I did."

After a few moments of silence, and after you'd taken your jewelry off, he took the opportunity to hug you tighter and let his lips travel down your neck. "Well, since you're here... I might as well get that loving in, hmm?"

"You might as well," you quipped. You stopped talking, instead letting him kiss your neck and your shoulder. You were so small in his arms--like a goddamn kitten! Even though you were strong, confident & fierce in your daily life, when you were with your beloved, you were like putty in his big hands, reduced to mush in a matter of moments.

"Good god, woman, I've missed you," he growled, letting his big hand trail up your shirt. "You have no idea how hard it was to resist the urge to just drop everything and come running to you."

"That's no way for a Magic Knight Captain to behave," you teased him, making him spank your ass out of annoyance.

"I know, princess." He went back to kissing your exposed shoulder and decided to take it a step further. "Turn around for me, baby," he rasped into your ear. You obliged happily, turning around to face your boyfriend. "That's more like it," he said, cracking a smile before attacking your lips. His chapped, rough lips kissed your much softer & sweeter ones, his tongue intermingling with yours and tasting the sweetness of your mouth. "Missed this... the way your lips taste," he whispered, angling your head so he could kiss you deeper.

"Missed yours, too," you murmured to which he raised an eyebrow.

"Didn't you say I smelled like cigarettes and beer?"

"That was before I made you quit all that shit. Now, shut up and kiss me," you said before diving in again.

"As you wish." He spun you guys around so that he was sitting on the bed and you were in between his legs. "What're you standing there for? Sit on my lap, sweetheart." You happily obliged and straddled his hips, letting the man pull you in for another deep, passionate kiss. His wandering hands trailed up and down your sides until he finally decided to peel off your shirt.

"Suke, it's cold," you whined.

"Then lemme heat you up," he rasped, continuing to let his hands run amok. Every time he got his hands on your soft, supple skin, he felt his heart skip a beat. You were just so goddamn perfect for him--you were like an angel, sent to keep him tamed. He trailed kisses down your neck and to your chest, kissing and biting at the soft fat of your breasts. "Mind if I take this thing off?" he asked, sticking a finger underneath the clasp of your bra.

"Only if you take this off," you quipped, peeling your boyfriend's tank top off, giving you access to those sweet muscles that you were so incredibly attracted to.

"Like what you see?" he rumbled with a cocky grin on his face.

"More than you could imagine," you giggled, pushing him back onto the bed and earning a spank from the brute's big hand.

"Come here and give your man some loving, hmm? He's missed having you in his bed."

You promptly requested a change of squad the next day. The Crimson Lion Kings would understand.

Bσɳυʂ ʂƈҽɳҽ: Nαƈԋƚ Fαυʂƚ! ⋆♱✮♱⋆

"So, this is the girlfriend I've been hearing so much about, Captain Yami?" the man, who was his vice-captain, asked him. It was a rare occurrence for him to leave the shadow realm and go back to HQ, but when he heard that his old friend of so many years had gotten himself a girlfriend, he couldn't resist the urge to meet you. His eyes flickered from Yami to you, and you felt like they were staring into your soul.

"Yeah, this is her: (Y/N), (L/N). Try not to scare her off and say anything bad about me, 'kay?" Yami asked of the young man.

Nacht offered you a smile and even outstretched his hand from his coat. "Pleased to meet you, my name is Nacht Faust. I was wondering when Captain Yami would find someone who'd put up with his antics," he said, surprisingly friendly for how reserved he seemed.

"Do I really have that kinda reputation?!"

"Yes, you do."

"Um... nice to meet you as well," you replied, unsure if you should be scared of him or be glad he was so friendly.

"Anyway, I should get going. I can't exactly stand to be around your boyfriend for so long," he said in that eerily calm voice before slinking back into a shadow. "It was nice to meet you again!"

"Yeah, it was..." you trailed off as the man disappeared into the shadowy side of that wall. "Is he always like that?"

"He's usually worse," Yami sighed. "Anyway, let's go back to bed. I'm tired."

"But it's 3 pm!" you protested. He merely scoffed and threw you over his shoulder. "Hey, put me down!!"

"Does it look like I care? I'll cuddle my girlfriend anytime of the day I want."

© ʙʀᴜɴᴇᴛᴛᴇ-ʙɪᴛᴄʜ77 on tumblr - get your own shit bitches | ca. 7/1/2024

[entitled-fangirl]

Cowboy!Cregan 5

Masterlist

................................................

"You sound awfully confident for a girl that won't ride a horse by herself."

She huffed. "It's a mechanical bull. How difficult can it be? It's not like the real thing."

Cregan pulled his hat off and soothed his hair over before placing it down again. "You'd be surprised, pretty girl." He stepped next to her and swung an arm over her shoulder to point. "See all that padding? Think that's for looks?"

"That's exactly what I think."

"Get up there, then."

Her eyes widened and her voice lowered. "Cregan, I'm not in shorts that are for bull ridi-"

"You said yourself it's not real bull riding," he teased. When her worry didn't lessen, he grinned. "Don't let that be your deciding factor. I'll getcha up there."

"Who the hell let Stark in here?" A voice laughed out.

Cregan's head turned. "Reed?"

Reed was the occasional ranch hand that spent too much of his time in town. He wasn't quite the country boy that the rest of them were, but Cregan never held that against him. "Yeah. The hell are you doing here?"

Cregan stepped by his wife, tapping her ass of the way. "The lady needed a night on the town. Who am I to deny that?"

Reed nodded. "You're right for that. She deserves time away from all them ranch hands."

Cregan laughed at that. "Trying to get her on this ol' thing," he said as he gestured to the bull.

Reed looked past Cregan and to the lady. "I'm the carney for the night, little lady, if that helps." At Cregan's questioning brow, he explained. "Friend owns the bar and had someone call in sick at the last minute. Ya know, Friday night, a week before the rodeo- they needed someone to run the bull."

She hummed. "You won't go too hard on me, will ya?"

He grunted. "What kind of gentleman do you take me for?"

Cregan stretched his arm out to her. "C'mere. I'll getcha on there."

He pulled her to the side of the ring, picked her up by the waist and set her onto the padding, keeping her shorts from showing things it shouldn't. He stepped up behind her to help her onto the bull.

"Put your hand here," Cregan explained huskily into her ear. "Just like getting on a horse. Leg here." When she managed to pulled herself up, Cregan took his hat and covered her ass as her leg swung over. "Good. One hand on the saddle, baby. Here." He stretched up to press his hat onto her head. "Other hand on the hat. Feel ready?"

She nodded. 

Cregan grinned. "Hell yeah, you are. Reed?" 

"Whenever you're ready."

Cregan moved out of the padded ring, slapping the top of it a few times. "Give 'em hell!"

Reed maneuvered the bull, swinging her around a few times, steady and easy at first. It moved back and forth slowly. He was going easy on her. 

Cregan watched with a sparkle to his eyes. He studied her with an admiration. It seemed watching her ride a bull made his blood warm. Is this the way she looked when she rode-

"Doing pretty good," Reed praised. 

"This is easy!" Her previous attitude returned. 

Cregan snorted. "He hasn't even started, pretty girl. You hanging on?"

She scoffed at him. "Cregan, you said this would be hard."

Cregan gave a curt nod to Reed, who stepped it up a notch. 

The bull spun, and her confidence immediately faltered. The hand on the hat moved to the saddle, prompting the boys to heckle. 

"Woah, princess! Hand off!"

"One hand, one hand!"

She huffed and tried to lift her hand again. As she did, the bull spun, and she lost her balance. She could have regained it if the bull had stopped, but it didn't. 

She fell to the padding with a grunt.

Cregan held his laugh in the best he could as he stepped into the ring and kneeled next to her. He opened his mouth.

"Don't."

He closed his mouth. 

He took her hand and pulled her up, paying extra attention to her shorts riding up. As she started to step away, Cregan moved right behind her at a too close distance. He wrapped one arm around her stomach to keep her from walking away and his other reached down to tug her shorts down respectively.

She let out a small squeak to which he smiled. He kissed the side of her head. "Wait for me, yeah?"

She did so, watching him go back over to grab his hat that had fallen off her head. Once placed back on his head, he stepped out of the ring. He reached up and helped her down. 

"You almost made it-"

"-Cregan," she warned in anger. "You do it if it's so easy."

"Oh, yeah?" He teased. He crossed his arms with a smirk. "What do I get if I can?"

She glared. "You won't be able to."

"We'll see about that, pretty girl." He kissed her cheek again roughly. "You know I'd buy you a drink either way."

She crossed her arms, watching Cregan pull his way up onto the horse. She tried to ignore the sight of his ass in those Ariat jeans, but it was growing more difficult by the second. 

He grabbed the saddle with one hand, holding his other out for balance. "Get 'er going."

Reed did just that, only, he didn't go easy on the Stark. 

It whirred and turned, trying to buck him off at every move. Cregan rode it was ease. 

"C'mere," Reed said out to her. She stepped next to him, eyeing the small control panel. "Have at it."

"What?"

Cregan's head shot up. "What?"

Reed grinned. "Have at it, little lady. This turns it, this is the speed. Here, let me show you. Hold on, Stark!"

Cregan adjusted his grip just in time, the bull moving at a faster pace to show her how the controls work.

"This joystick is the fun part. Watch." The bull moved in every direction the joystick moved, pulling the rider with it. 

"Goddammit, Reed!" Cregan yelled when it spun a little too fast. 

"Thought Starks liked riding bucking broncos. Seen you do it all the time on the ranch," Reed prodded.

"They don't spin like this. Jesus!" 

She grinned and eyes the man. "So, just the joystick and this is the speed here?"

"Exactly so."

She made eye contact with Cregan, who was shaking his head in a plea. She flipped the speed to high. "Still wanna mouth me, Stark?"

Cregan whined, waiting for the bull to move. 

 She moved the joystick, watching Cregan curse violently under his breath as he tried to keep up. His hand stayed up, though it swayed as he held on tightly. His thighs squeezed the body of the bull, though it did nothing to help him. 

There was an attractiveness to watching him. Though clearly focused, there still was a certain confidence to him that was entrancing. His boots clicked against the body, his shirt unbuttoned just enough to catch attention.

Eventually, a certain spin bucked him off, swinging his leg over and his body hit the padding with a thud. 

He wanted to be mad, but the sound of his wife's giggles brought a smile to his face. He laid on the ground for a moment, bringing his arms to rest over his forehead and catch his breath. A laugh came from his throat. 

She entered the ring, kneeling beside him. "God, are you alright?"

He pulled his hands away. "You're only asking me that now?" He laughed. 

"You looked good, if that's any consolation."

His brows raised. "Did I?"

She shrugged. "If that helps."

"Oh, it does." He grabbed her hips and tugged her on top of him. "It helps tremendously."

Her laughter grew as she tried to escape his grip. "Cr… Cregan!" 

He sat up, keeping her snug in his lap. "What?" He whispered in her ear. 

Her breath escaped her when her face was inches from his. Her eyes moved to his lips. "I-"

"You what?" He pried. He knew exactly what he was doing. 

"You… You're…"

"I'm what, baby?" His eyes twinkled. 

"A sore loser."

His face morphed into amusement and he lightly pushed her off his lap. "You little…"

Her laughing grew louder. "You know you love me."

"You didn't seem to be a winner either if I recall."

"We're two sides of the same coin, huh?"

Cregan grinned. His tongue darted out to his bottom lip. "You're damn right about that."

"Take me home, pretty boy."

He stood and pulled her up. "I love you. Sore losers or not."

She ran a hand through his hair. "Sore losers or not."

..................................

[joelsrose]

Howdy Cowboy

I am crazy but I am free - I need to study but can’t stop writing for my pookies

No warnings just tension and teasing and !hotcowboyJoel, reader is in her early/mid 20sss

You sighed, giving yourself one last look in the mirror, running a hand down your sides, smoothing out the simple black mini dress that clung to your skin. Paired with a pair of old cowboy boots you’d dusted off from the back of your closet, the outfit wasn’t exactly your usual style. But tonight wasn’t about you—it was Sarah’s birthday, and she had been planning this cowboy-themed party for months, insisting on holding it at the local rodeo bar. She hadn’t stopped talking about riding the mechanical bull, her excitement practically contagious.

You couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your face as you thought of Sarah—her curls bouncing, her eyes lighting up with excitement as she finally got her moment on the mechanical bull. But even with all that anticipation, it wasn’t what had your heart racing the most.

It was Joel.

The second his name crossed your mind, a wave of butterflies exploded in your stomach, making you feel both giddy and a little breathless. The theme was cowboy, which meant Joel would definitely be in something dangerously fitting. Your mind drifted—what if he wore those perfectly worn jeans that sat just right on his hips, a cowboy hat tipped low over those deep brown eyes of his, maybe even an old shirt clinging to his chest in that way that made you look twice?

You could almost picture it—Joel walking into the bar, the dim light hitting him just right, his easy smile and that slow, purposeful stride making your heart skip a beat. It made you feel like a teenager with a crush all over again, the kind that leaves you breathless and flushed, and completely unsure what to do with yourself.

The thought of seeing him tonight, in the soft glow of the bar lights, dressed like that—it made your pulse quicken.

•••

You felt a flutter of nerves as you stepped inside, the buzz of energy from the bar wrapping around you. The dim lighting cast a warm, golden hue over the rustic wooden beams, making the place feel both intimate and alive. For Sarah’s birthday, the bar had been completely transformed—twinkling string lights hanging from the ceiling, a sea of cowboy hats and boots filling the room like something straight out of her dreams. Laughter rang out from every corner, the soft twang of country music humming in the background, setting the perfect tone for the night. It was exactly the kind of celebration Sarah had always envisioned, and a quiet thrill of excitement stirred in your chest, knowing how much this moment meant to her.

Spotting Sarah wasn’t hard; she stood near the mechanical bull, already in full party mode. Her wild curls framed her glowing face, and she was dressed to perfection—a denim mini skirt, a fitted white top, and, of course, the pièce de résistance: a rhinestone-covered cowboy hat perched on her head, catching the light with every move. A Birthday Girl sash draped across her chest, sparkling just as brightly. You couldn’t help but chuckle and shake your head at how perfectly Sarah she looked—radiant, confident, and completely in her element.

“Hey!” Sarah squealed the moment she spotted you, throwing her arms around you in a hug that radiated pure excitement. "You made it!"

"Of course, wouldn’t miss it for the world," you grinned, pulling back to take in her outfit. “You look incredible, by the way.”

Sarah’s face lit up even more, and she gave a little twirl, the rhinestones on her hat sparkling with every movement. "Thanks! Feelin’ like a proper cowgirl tonight," she winked, her energy infectious. "Now, go get yourself a drink from the bar and hurry back—I’ve got big plans for us!" she teased, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

You turned to move towards the bar, and that’s when you saw him—leaning casually against the wooden counter, drink in hand, the rim of his cowboy hat casting just enough shadow to hide his dark eyes. Joel. The breath hitched in your throat as your gaze settled on him. He looked even better than you had imagined—broad shoulders filling out his worn, flannel shirt, the sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal his forearms, strong and lightly scarred from years of hard work, flexing subtly as he lifted the glass to his lips. His faded jeans hung low on his hips, the belt buckle glinting under the dim bar lights, and that damn cowboy hat perched perfectly on his head, tipping ever so slightly forward as he brought the glass to his lips.

Your heart skipped a beat, the world narrowing to just him in that instant. Most men would look ridiculous dressed like that, a caricature of what a cowboy should be. But Joel? The way he wore it, the way he owned the look, made you think all kinds of unholy things. You scolded yourself for how easily the blush crept up your cheeks, painting you crimson in a way only he knew how to. It was ridiculous how just the sight of him made you feel like a teenager again. You’d seen him countless times before, but tonight, bathed in the golden glow of string lights, with the brim of his hat casting shadows over his sharp features, Joel looked every bit the rugged cowboy from your wildest daydreams—strong, untamed, and lighting a fire deep inside you that you couldn’t ignore.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself as you made your way to the bar, your heart pounding a little faster with each step. Joel hadn’t spotted you yet, his focus seemingly on the drink in his hand, his body leaned casually against the counter as he spoke to the person beside him. The closer you got, the more the nerves started to build. You could practically feel the heat rolling off him. Pretending to study the drink menu hanging above the bar, you couldn’t help but steal a glance at Joel. His dark eyes, shaded beneath the brim of his cowboy hat, flicked up just as you turned your head, catching you mid-scan. His lips curled into that slow, knowing smile that always seemed to unravel you from the inside out, making your heart stutter in response.

“Well, look who finally decided to show up,” Joel teased, his voice smooth and warm, like honey dripping slow. Before you could even form a response, his arm wrapped around you, pulling you into a hug that was far more intimate than it should’ve been. The faint scent of whiskey on his breath mingled with the earthy tones of his cologne, the combination stirring something deep and unnameable inside you. His chest pressed against yours for a moment that stretched just a bit too long, his hand sliding gently across your back, the warmth of his touch both firm and tender. When he finally pulled away, his smirk—the one that always made your heart stutter—was firmly in place, his eyes twinkling with a kind of mischief that left you breathless.

Joel leaned in just a bit closer, the space between you shrinking as he tilted his head slightly, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Can I get you a drink?” he asked, his voice a smooth, lazy drawl that made the offer feel like the most natural thing in the world, like it was just the two of you, here and now.

You smiled, trying to steady yourself under his gaze. Your eyes flicked to the drink menu for a split second before meeting his again, the weight of his attention making it hard to focus. Biting your lip, you shrugged playfully. "Yeah, but I can't decide."

Joel tipped his head, taking a slow, deliberate sip of his whiskey, his eyes never straying from yours. “Can’t go wrong with whiskey,” he murmured, lifting his glass slightly, his deep drawl wrapping around you like velvet, warm and teasing.

You arched an eyebrow, mirroring his playful tone. “A little strong for me, don’t you think?”

His smile deepened, a hint of challenge flickering in his gaze. “You sure about that?” he asked, his voice dipping lower. “Thought you could handle a little heat.”

A blush crept up your neck, spreading across your cheeks, and suddenly your usual witty responses seemed to vanish. He was being forward tonight—really forward. This wasn’t like his usual stolen glances or the casual brushes of his hand. Joel Miller was flirting with you. And it wasn’t subtle.

“Wanna try?” he asked, his voice dipping lower, rich with mischief. His eyes flickered in a way that left no room for doubt, tracing your lips before he subconsciously licked his own. The gesture was slow, deliberate, and paired with the gleam in his gaze, it sent a shiver straight through you.

You hesitated for a second, but before you could answer, he was already lifting the glass to your lips. The smooth rim of the glass touched your mouth, and as you took a slow sip, your eyes locked with his, the world narrowing to just the two of you. The whiskey burned down your throat, a warmth spreading through your chest, but it was his gaze that made your breath hitch. Your head tilted back slightly as you swallowed, and he watched, his eyes darkening, intense and unwavering.

The moment stretched between you, the tension tightening like a wire pulled taut, neither of you breaking the connection. His gaze followed the movement of your throat, the subtle rise and fall as you drank, and when you lowered your head again, the air around you felt charged, heavy with everything unsaid.

A slow smile tugged at the corner of Joel’s lips, his eyes gleaming with something dangerous and teasing. He leaned in just a fraction, his voice dropping to a low, rough murmur that sent a shiver down your spine. “Good girl,” he drawled, the words soaked in heat, went straight to your core.

Your heart stuttered at the words, heat flooding your cheeks. The intensity in his gaze hadn’t lessened, if anything, it had deepened. He leaned just a fraction closer, the warmth of his breath brushing against your skin, his eyes slightly hooded as they took you in, tracing the curve of your lips and the flush on your cheeks.

You were overwhelmed, every hair on your body standing on end, your thoughts a hazy blur as you tried to figure out if the moment you were sharing with Joel was real or some kind of daydream. Joel had been bolder tonight, more direct, and it was almost too much. The weight of his touch, the intensity of his gaze—it all lingered, leaving your skin flushed and your pulse racing. You needed to break the tension, to say something before you completely lost your grip on reality.

“You know,” you began, a teasing smile curling at the corners of your lips, “I gotta say, you pull off the cowboy look better than I expected.” Your tone was light, playful, but the flutter of nerves in your stomach betrayed the weight of the moment still hanging between you.

Joel chuckled, the sound deep and rough, sending a ripple of warmth through you. His eyes flicked down to his boots and then back up, settling on you with a glint of mischief. “That so?” he drawled, raising an eyebrow as he leaned in just a bit closer, the space between you tightening. “And what exactly were you expectin’, huh? Me in my old t-shirt and worn-out jeans?”

You shrugged, biting your lip, trying to maintain your composure. “Maybe. It’s kinda your signature look, isn’t it?”

“It’s comfortable,” he replied with a casual shrug, his eyes glinting. “But sometimes you gotta switch it up. Thought I’d embrace the theme tonight.” He paused, his gaze lingering on you before flicking up to the top of your head. “Where’s your cowboy attire, anyway?”

You let out a soft laugh, rolling your eyes playfully. “Figured the boots were enough,” you said, glancing down at your feet. Joel's gaze followed, but his eyes didn’t stop there. They trailed slowly up the length of your bare legs, lingering for just a heartbeat longer than necessary before meeting yours again.

Joel clicked his tongue, shaking his head with mock disappointment. “Nah, you’re missin’ somethin’,” he teased, tilting his head slightly, his eyes scanning you with an exaggerated slowness, as if picturing you fully in theme. “Can’t go to a cowboy party without a cowboy hat. Gotta complete the look.”

Before you could respond, someone called his name from across the bar. Joel let out a quiet sigh, turning slightly to see who it was. The reluctance on his face was unmistakable, the easygoing warmth from moments ago fading just a bit as the interruption pulled him away from you. A flicker of disappointment crossed his expression, like he was just as unwilling to let go of the moment as you were.

He turned back to you, his eyes softening once more. “Looks like I gotta take care of somethin’ real quick,” he said, his voice laced with quiet reluctance.

For a brief second, neither of you moved, the air thick with unspoken words. Then, with a decisive nod, Joel reached up, pulling the cowboy hat from his own head. The brim caught the warm light, casting a shadow over his face as he held it in his hands.

“You’re missin’ this,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, rough around the edges in the way that always sent a thrill through you. Before you could even process what he was doing, Joel gently placed the hat on your head, tilting it just right with careful hands. His fingers brushed through your hair as he adjusted it.

You looked up at him, eyes wide, heart pounding in your chest. “Joel…” you started, unsure of what to say, but he wasn’t finished.

“Looks better on you anyway,” he added, his voice softer now, almost a whisper, as if he wasn’t just talking about the hat. His eyes held yours, dark and intense, a quiet promise lingering in the space between you. For a moment, everything around you—the noise, the laughter, the people—faded into the background. It was just the two of you, standing there in the dim light, the air thick with something unspoken.

Joel’s fingers lingered for a second longer, brushing against your cheek, before he pulled away. He gave you one last lingering look, his lips curving into a small, private smile as he stepped back.

“Don’t lose it, now,” he said with a wink, his voice carrying a hint of something playful, though there was a deeper meaning hidden beneath the words.

And just like that, he turned and walked away, his broad shoulders disappearing into the crowd, leaving you standing there with his cowboy hat resting on your head, your heart pounding and your thoughts a jumbled mess of everything that had just passed between you. The warmth of his presence still lingered, even though he was no longer standing beside you, and as you lifted a hand to touch the brim of the hat, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself.

•••

For the rest of the night, you tried to focus on the conversations swirling around you, laughing at the right moments, nodding along when someone spoke. But no matter how hard you tried, your thoughts kept drifting back to Joel. Every sip of the whiskey he’d left for you—a drink too bitter for your liking—became a reminder of him. The taste lingered on your lips, but not as much as the memory of his hands on your waist, the low murmur of his voice, the heat of his gaze.

But what made it impossible to forget was the way he kept finding you, catching your eye from across the room. Every time your gazes locked, it was as though the world around him faded—he'd stop mid-conversation, his attention drawn solely to you, as if no one else existed. His eyes would linger, dark and intense, leaving you breathless and yearning for the moments you had been closer.

His hair, now slightly tousled from where the hat had once sat, made him look even more rugged, and every time he looked at you, it was as though the air between you thickened. The party became a blur, the conversations blending into background noise, because the only thing that mattered was the way Joel would glance at you with that slow, deliberate look that made your heart race. He’d look at you like he was memorizing the sight, like he was already missing the moments when your paths would cross again.

Then, Sarah’s voice rang out, cutting through the hum of conversation and the twang of country music. She stood on a chair, her curls wild under the string lights, hands raised high as she grinned mischievously. “Alright, y’all, before we cut the cake, we’ve got one more thing to do,” she announced, her voice loud and full of excitement. “Who’s ready for the bull?”

With the energy buzzing in the air, Sarah bounded over to the bull. The crowd followed, gathering around as she made a show of adjusting her cowboy boots and tossing her hair over her shoulder with exaggerated flair. You couldn’t help but laugh as she flashed you a quick wink before climbing on. She threw one arm in the air dramatically, gripping the saddle with the other, and the crowd went wild.

The bull jerked to life, and Sarah let out an exaggerated "yee-haw!" that had everyone howling with laughter. She clung to the bull, her curls bouncing wildly as she tried to maintain her balance, her boots slipping in the stirrups. It didn’t take long—maybe ten seconds, if that—before she lost her grip and tumbled off, landing in a pile of giggles on the padded floor.

Amid the cheers and clapping, Sarah stood up, taking a playful bow as she caught her breath, her curls bouncing with the movement. Then, her eyes locked onto yours with a devilish glint. Her smile widened into a mischievous grin, and with one finger pointed directly at you, she shouted, “Your turn!”

You groaned internally, feeling the heat of all eyes on you. For a moment, you seriously contemplated making a break for it, envisioning a swift escape out the back door before anyone could push you toward the beast in front of you.

But before you could act on your plan, two strong hands found your waist from behind, steady and familiar.

“Come on, darlin’. You’re up,” Joel’s deep voice drawled near your ear. His hands were firm but gentle, guiding you toward the bull like you didn’t have a choice in the matter. And truthfully, with him so close, you weren’t sure you wanted one.

The crowd parted as Joel walked with you, his presence commanding as always. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the scent of whiskey and something earthier filling the space between you.

You stood beside the bull, feeling a little ridiculous but mostly nervous. Not because of the bull, but because of Joel—his hand still lingering on your waist, the heat of his fingers burning through the fabric of your dress. He leaned in, his lips dangerously close to your ear, the subtle brush of his chest against your back making your skin tingle with awareness. Joel leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, his voice dropping low—dangerously low.

“Let’s see how well you ride,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear, each syllable laced with suggestion.

The innuendo hit you hard, making your stomach flip, heat pooling low in your belly and rush of blood rushing to your cheeks at the implication in his voice.

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, his hands tightened on your waist. With an effortless lift, Joel had you in the saddle, his strong grip making you feel weightless, completely under his control. The brush of his fingers as they left your hips was like fire, leaving you reeling, breathless, as you adjusted to your seat on the bull.

After Joel lifted you onto the bull, his fingers didn't pull away immediately. Instead, they lingered, resting on your bare thigh where your dress had ridden up just slightly. His rough fingertips began tracing slow, deliberate circles against your skin—small, hidden movements shielded by the way his body subtly blocked the view from anyone else around. It was an intimate touch, just for you, as if he was testing the waters, seeing how far he could push without a word.

His touch, though soft, was firm enough to make you dizzy, each little circle drawing you further into the heat of the moment, making it impossible to think about anything else but him.

Your breath caught, and when you glanced up, his eyes were already locked on yours, dark and intense, like he was daring you to react. His thumb lingered on your thigh for just a heartbeat longer, pressing slightly before he stepped back, leaving you breathless.

The bull’s leather seat was cool beneath you, its surface slightly worn and slick under your palms as you gripped the reins, trying to steady your racing heart.

As you settled onto the bull, you tried to focus on anything but the way Joel’s touch still seemed to burn on your skin.

Before you could prepare yourself, the machine beneath you jerked to life and the crowd around you erupted in cheers and laughter. But it all felt distant, as though you were caught in a bubble, the world slowing down.

You gripped the bull’s rope handle tightly, your knuckles white against the worn leather, trying to steady yourself as it bucked forward. The motion was rough, your body swaying with each unpredictable movement, the muscles in your legs straining to hold on.

Your dress rode up just a bit more with each buck of the bull, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw Joel still watching you, arms crossed, his gaze intense, unwavering. His lips quirked into that signature smirk of his, and it sent a thrill through you, making it even harder to concentrate on staying upright.

The bull bucked harder, throwing you back, and you squealed in surprise, laughter bubbling up in your chest. But even through the laughter, you felt the weight of his stare, the way his eyes traced every movement, every stumble, every sway. Your thighs burned from holding on - But the hardest thing wasn’t the bull—it was resisting the pull of Joel’s gaze, the weight of it still on you.

He hadn't moved an inch, standing just close enough for you to catch glimpses of him between the wild jerks of the bull. His dark eyes locked on you, unwavering, and every time your gaze met his, his lips curled into that slow, lazy grin that made your heart race. It was as if he knew exactly what he was doing to you, how his steady gaze ignited something inside you that made it even harder to concentrate. The thought alone made your stomach flip, a rush of heat flooding through you despite the cool night air.

With a playful grin of your own, you reached up, pulling the cowboy hat from your head and doing what you’d seen in every movie—swinging it in one hand as you tried to ride out the last few bucks. The crowd erupted in cheers and laughter, but all you could focus on was Joel’s reaction, the way his eyes darkened just a little more, that grin of his growing wider as he watched you, completely captivated.

The bull twisted sharply to one side, and your grip faltered. You let out a squeal, laughter bubbling up from your chest, but you could feel yourself slipping. Your body swayed dangerously, your dress hitching up even further, and just as you were about to fall, Joel stepped forward, his eyes flashing with something you couldn’t quite name.

With one final, hard buck, the bull sent you flying off, tumbling onto the padded mat below with a breathless gasp. The crowd erupted into laughter and cheers, but all you could hear was the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears and the sound of Joel’s low chuckle as he stepped closer, offering you his hand.

“You alright there, cowgirl?” he teased, his voice thick with amusement. His hand, strong and warm, wrapped around yours as he helped you to your feet, pulling you up with ease.

You laughed breathlessly, brushing off your dress, trying to regain some sense of composure as your heart raced for an entirely different reason now.

You grinned, still catching your breath from the ride, and before you could think twice, you teased, “I think I need more practice.”

Joel’s eyebrows shot up, clearly taken aback by the lack of subtlety in your voice. For once, you had surprised him. His gaze flickered with something that made your heart skip, but just as quickly, he composed himself, the corner of his mouth twitching into that familiar smirk.

“Well,” he drawled, his voice smooth and low, “maybe I can show you how it’s done sometime.”

Your pulse quickened, a dizzying rush of heat flooding through you at the boldness of his words. It took everything inside of you not to grab him by his flannel and close the distance between you right there and then. The intensity of the moment, the weight of everything unsaid, had your breath catching in your throat. His eyes never left yours, the smoldering desire in them making your heart race as if he was daring you to make the next move.

Before you could respond, Sarah called your name, waving from across the room. You turned, ready to head back to her, but stopped short, suddenly aware of the weight on your head.

Joel’s cowboy hat.

You reached up, ready to hand it back to him.

“Here, you should take this.”

But before you could take it off, Joel’s hand gently stopped you. His thumb brushed over your knuckles.

“Nah,” he murmured, his voice low and rich with meaning.

“Keep it… for our next lesson.”

Your breath hitched at the weight of his words, the promise wrapped in them, and before you could think of something witty to say, Joel gave you one last lingering look, his eyes glinting with something unspoken before he stepped back into the crowd.

As you turned back to Sarah, your heart was still racing, Joel’s hat resting snugly on your head, a promise of something more hanging in the air.

[ferrstappen]

what happens with the kids? l Max Verstappen x reader

a/n: *sigh* I'm so done with this season bc I just know we'll be getting the same podium every other career and my tifosi dreams are just crumbling... also can we please just talk about that driver introduction like?????

anyway, this is based on this request I got the other day! thank you for requesting and sorry it takes me so long write the requests, but uni is kicking my ass <3

genre: angst oop

pairing: Max Verstappen x female reader. Lando Norris x reader but not serious.

warnings: divorce, kids, not proofread.

summary: Max really didn't have to find a girlfriend that soon after the divorce, and the fact that his girlfriend had a daughter of her own, didn't really help your case.

It's safe to say you never really saw it coming. or maybe you did, but tried to ignore it as Mila and Luca had just celebrated their third birthday, with the second half of the season looming over your household, Max said the the words you never thought you'd hear.

I think we need some time apart to figure out some stuff.

At first you didn't really process it. Why would you possible need time apart? The twins were so young, you needed all the help you could get and things were good.

That's what you thought.

He said it was hard to continue your marriage if you couldn't keep him company or support him the way you used to, before having kids. Maybe he was oblivious to the disbelief showing on your features, trying to comprehend if he really needed to be reminded of your two young children, who had strict hours. You didn't feel the need to remind him that just three weeks ago Mila had to go to the emergency room for an allergic reaction, and a week before that, Luca was questioning you about why his dad wasn't around as much.

Max rubbed his left hand on the nape of his neck, obviously trying to ignore this part of the conversation, seeing as you eyes became teary and your eyes tried to find his blue ones, but he avoided them at all costs.

Then, it was time to bring the kids to a race, Austria to be specific. It was strange to walk without him on the so familiar space, holding Luca and Mila's hands, making your way to the Red Bull hospitality where Max was supposedly waiting for his family.

During the walk, you were greeted by most people from every team; engineers fist bumping the twins, Lando and Max Fewtrell giving you a side hug before trying to talk with Luca and Mila. Yet, when you reached your finishing point, Christian Horner's eyes opened widely, like his mind was trying to process something.

The Red Bull team principal was clearly distressed as he walked towards the three of you, greeting you as usual, but offering to take the twins for a quick tour, telling you there was a new snack bar the engineers had created and they should get to know it.

It didn't take long to realize the brit knew something you didn't.

A feeling you couldn't explain sank on your stomach. Your cheeks were already flushed, palms turned sweaty and suddenly your subconscious was trying to convince yourself that it couldn't be that bad, whatever it was. The world shook and your vision slowed down when you noticed a gorgeous black-haired woman, leaning against your husband as he laughed at something she said.

Your trembling legs managed to silently take a step back, trying to hold back the tears as you left the room, watching as Christian was still entertaining the twins, following you as the kids noticed you.

"Christian, can you please call Max to tell him we're here?" Somehow, with some divine strength, you were able to get the words out, ignoring Christian's glare as if he was trying to ask if you were okay.

In a matter of seconds, Max had joined you, receiving Mila and Luca with open arms. He wasn't aware of the fact that you already knew the reason he wanted a time off wasn't because he didn't get to see you, or that you couldn't make the effort to travel with the kids.

No.

Just as Christian had suggested, the kids went with him as Max directed your way to a secluded space. He didn't know what he was expecting, but it sure wasn't "I want a divorce"

He blinked. Once. Twice. "What do you mean you want a divorce?"

A snicker left your lips, was he trying to play dumb? You knew Max Verstappen as the palm of your hand. You knew him better than yourself.

You didn't need to see him kissing the black-haired woman, or holding hands, or even touching her.

Max's eyes, your husband's eyes, expressed everything you needed to know.

It wasn't important that he berated you for dropping this news right before Red Bull's home race, that his eyes tried to find yours but were unable to, as your crossed your arms as if that would protect you from the heartbreak and sudden change of plans; from a happy couple, a merry marriage and joyous family, to a life of weekends separated, of preparing their bags on Friday night, of being civil for the sake of the twins during their birthday...

And because you knew him so well, the relief that flashed through his blue eyes didn't pass unnoticed by you, because it wasn't him who said the words. He was guilty, but he didn't take the shot.

Your girlfriends always joked about his friends always were the first ones to reach out after a break up, making you laugh until text messages and Instagram DMs started rolling in: Red Bull engineers and mechanics, Lando Norris, Martin Garrix, among others.

Hey! I heard about you and Max, just wondering if you are okay and want to meet up some time?

It didn't take long to accept one of their offers, having messy nights with a British driver and multiple people from the paddock, but it was never meant to be more. and it absolutely wasn't, but it was early Sunday when the concierge called to inform the arrival of Max and the twins. Of course you didn't hear, Lando's body pressed against you as his soft snores invaded the bed you once shared with Max.

and obviously, Max being as restless as always, decided to just take the direct elevator to the penthouse overlooking Monte-Carlo. That's what made Lando open his eyes, very widely, as you hastily walked him towards the walk-in closet so that he could get dressed and not be seen or heard by Max.

Not that it mattered, but you were capable of putting family peace in front o making your ex-husband jealous.

"Hello my sweets!" Mila and Luca made their way into your arms, not caring about their backpacks making things a bit uncomfortable. "Did you have a good weekend?"

Luca started blabbering about papa's new place, the dishes Max's girlfriend cooked for them, and the incredible time they both had with Sara, the daughter of Max's girlfriend. There obviously was a bond between the three children, both arguing about how Sara liked them more than the other.

Max hadn't had the time to greet you or ask about your weekend, his gaze fixing on an orange hat.

"Since when do you own McLaren merch?" Max questioned you, pointing the foreign object, the logo being unusual on the household.

Ignoring how your heart skipped a beat, feigning ignorance your body turned to where Max's finger was pointing. "Oh, I don't know? I think someone gave it to me at one of the races. Long time ago, though."

That's when both Max and you noticed the twins were gone, probably on their bedroom unpacking or searching the kitchen.

Max took a couple of breaths, his eyebrows scrunched and eyes trying to find yours, not even attempting to hide his feelings. "Are you hooking up with someone from McLaren, (Y/N)?"

Your eyes widened, then took a step back trying to see if you heard him right. "Why would you even ask me that?"

Max shrugged; "I have a right to know, in case they end up sharing time with M and Luca. I can't control how everything works during the week so I'd like to be kept in the loop."

This time it struck like lightning, the fury and anger and disillusion your heart was carrying. "You have no right, Max. Absolutely no fucking right to be kept in the loop about what goes on in my life,"

Max didn't flinch at your tone, "I didn't say about your life, I'm aware that we are divorced, I'm talking about Mila and Luca,”

"I always think of them, they're the first thing on my mind when I wake up, and the last thing when I go to sleep. They're always on my mind and never leave, and I would never do anything to hurt them or even cause them the tiniest bit of disappointment. You have no right to come here and tell me you want to know about what goes on in here, because you are the one who chose to leave us in the first place," You vented, with Max's blue eyes fixed on you he was trying to keep his composure, but you knew he was uncomfortable.

"We are not having this conversation now, (Y/N). It's over, now it's just about the kids," Max added with a slight roll of his eyes.

"When are we having this conversation, then? When are you going to tell me that you wanted to separate because there was someone else already? that I wasn't enough for you? not even our kids were enough to make you doubt your decision to leave me, and it feels terrible and I don't know if I'm ever going to be able to feel the same because I'm shattered, Max." The words felt like someone was ripping your heart out of your chest, leaving you vulnerable as the thoughts became real, they were out there, but then it was followed by a bittersweet relief of not holding back anymore.

He noticed the tears and hiccups as you tried to make the point. His eyelids trembled as his hands meant to reach out to yours, pull your body to his, squeeze your waist and kiss your hair while assuring everything was going to be just fine.

That was the moment he realized that wasn't his place anymore, probably would never be again. Max didn't even think about that while signing the divorce papers, he didn't bother to show up to anything, sending a lawyer to do whatever was needed, and now it was hitting him like a ton of bricks.

His realization was cut short as the kids came running, Luca placing the McLaren hat on his head, ignoring Mila's voice telling him it wasn't daddy's team.

"I think this is when you leave, Max,"

You managed to keep your voice from quavering and erasing every trace of a tear, telling the kids to say goodbye to Max.

Yeah, this wasn't what Max had in mind for his Sunday morning.

[alien-magnolia]

Highway to Hell

(AC/DC, duh.)

Tw: Casual dominance / relationship domestics with Dean, possessiveness, dumbification, size knk, dom!-coded Dean, sub!-coded reader, daddy!knk, innocence, etc.

Please support your creators and reblog if you can <3

———

The way Dean takes care of you simply made you melt.

You’ve been on the road with him and Sam for a few years now, and you are a welcome presence. Especially for Dean.

You help the boys out, hunting down the supernatural, abolishing curses, negotiating with witches, vampires, and the sort. Sometimes there is a brief period in which you all have no cases. You settle. A dingy mid-Americana motel, doors with paint peeling off, beds that creaked terribly. That was the usual option. Until the three of you found the compound used by the Men of Letters, in the mid 20th century. It was a bit outdated, yet it gave you one thing that you simply desired with fervor — from Dean especially. Privacy. Domesticity.

Yours and Dean’s room was on the other side of the compound. Away from Sam. It was a master suite, right next to a private bathroom. Moments like this were your favorite. Dean lazily lay on the bed, hairy thighs spread, nursing a beer in his right hand, a cigarette in his left. You have just stepped out of the shower. Wearing nothing, of course.

The soft glow and muffled sound of the tv spread through the yellow tinted room. You walk your way over to him. He was still focused on the tv. His glance turned to you, a smile instantly creeped across his face. “Hi there. Need something, sweetheart?,” he raised his brow.

“Need you, D. Got all dolled up, you see?,” you tell him, fingers dwildiling behind you, your nipples, perked up from all the hot water. “Can see that. Why don’tcha come on up here,” he smiles, predatory, patting his thighs. “Daddy’ll take care of ya,” he adds, with a whisper.

You giddily accept the invitation, getting onto his lap, straddling his thighs, your warm wetness pressed up against him. “Want you to ride me, sweetheart. Like one of those bulls at the bar, yeah? Use daddy’s thigh on your sweet lil’ cunt. Wanna see her purr, yeah?,” he chided, bringing a large hand to cup your face. You nod, and follow instructions, as told. You wanted to be good for him, after all.

You rode, panting, heaving, giving it your all. You swung back and forth, sometimes pausing to give him a little dance. He was lucky, having a sweet thing like you in front of him, cigarette, beer, and the tv to keep him entertained. “Keep it movin’ f’me, pretty girl. You’re almost there, aren’t ya?” You nod, your face straining as you feel yourself tighten on his thigh. He moves his thigh into you more, and you scream, letting go. “There she is. Let go, baby. Daddy’s got ya.” You collapse onto his chest with a sigh, spent from this little interaction.

“You tired, baby?,” he asks, earning a nod from you, and a sigh. You were exhausted. He understood. “I got ya.” With your head still lay flush against his chest hair, he picks you up, bringing you to the bathroom. You were already half asleep as he set you on the counter, washed your face, cleaning you up. He brings you back into bed, making sure your head stays on his chest as you fall asleep.

—-

You liked how he took care of you. If you ever got hurt during a hunt, Dean would stop everything to make sure you’re okay. He would tell Sam to go on, leaving his brother frustrated as Dean would dote over you.

He always took a chance to carry you. Sometimes even through the woods — he was afraid that you’d get hurt and trip over the thick branches, because it has happened a few times already.

Whenever the three of you stopped at some local town bars, Dean always made sure to have his arm around your shoulders at all times — even walking you to the restroom if you asked. Sometimes you would sit with your legs on his lap as well. He would stroke your thigh if you got nervous. He would always double check your drink before you drank it, making sure it was okay for you. He would never let you have more than two shots of whiskey.

God forbid if a local bar-goer ever leered at you. Dean would walk over to them, ask them why, and then start throwing punches, ending with a simple, “Stay away from my woman, asshole.”

Sam would roll his eyes and pull Dean apart from the men, every time.

—

Late at night, while you and Dean couldn’t keep your hands off each other, while he took care of your throbbing cunt with his more than you can endow cock, Sam sat at the other side of the building, studying. He was honestly astonished that his brother was so enamored with a woman, always caring for you in a way that Sam had never seen before. It was almost paternal. Sam knew that you were the one to bring out the best, most humane, qualities in Dean.

A/n: requests have been answered! I am on my period, so expect some more fics coming out in the next couple of days. Xoxo, Liz.

[devilmademewriteit]

thinking about jealous reader and jealous javi

Jealous Girl

gif via @javier-pena

pairing: javier peña x afab!fem!reader

warnings: roughy sex/smut (fem penetration) so 18+ only content; fem!afab!reader; dirty talk; jealous!reader; jealous!javi; sort of dom!javi; allusions to reader having long-ish hair; pet names (baby, babygirl, hermosa, cariño); slut-shaming (reader uses the word ‘whore’); dubcon (no explicit consent, Javi is… forceful).

no use of y/n in this fic

thx 4 the drabble / short fic request!! once again this is FERAL !!! feel free to keep sending me lil drabble requests. they’re so fun to write while I work on my longer fics.

reminder that I am not using the taglist for these, but you can turn on notifs & join the list in my pinned post for my longer works !

-em <3

—

“You broke it off with me, baby, remember?”

What does it matter? What does it matter when you lock eyes with him getting head in his car, parked in some barely-hidden side-street, one block away from your dad’s salsamentaria?

What does it matter when, ten minutes later, he finds you, alone in the back room of the store, forcing back tears of frustration as your shaking hands busy themselves with fresh inventory?

You spin around, prepared to bark curses at him for trespassing into sacred, employee-only territory. He’s leaning against the door, beige suit-jacket a little roughed-up, hair slightly out of place.

“Glad to see you’re enjoying your freedom,” you reply coolly, mirroring his pose against the far wall.

He smiles. You’d known him long enough to recognize that condescending expression — the wolfish twitch of his mustache.

Toying with you for sport.

“And you’re not?” Javi asks, the casual raise of his eyebrows deceptive compared to the darkness overtaking his gaze. “Everybody’s seen you, y’know, leaving bars half-naked with guys twice your age.”

Always an opportunist, the agent pushes on, taking advantage of your stunned silence. “N’ you used to be so shy, babygirl.” A chuckle. “The fuck did I do to you, huh?”

You stammer, wanting to tear into him for his crudeness (though he was right — mixing the breakup with tequila hadn’t failed to strip you of your inhibitions), but the man denies you the chance, gliding forward in a slow, wide step.

Softly. “You wear my gifts for them? Let ‘em fuck you in all those lil’ lace sets I got for you?”

He’s close now, and you’re beginning to see red. This was part of the reason behind the break-up in the first place — neither of you knew how to manage overwhelming care without dousing it in cruelty.

Those long-awaited fighting words finally manage to breach the threshold of your lips. “Yeah, actually, I do,” you drawl, arousal levelled by a red-hot rage coiling tighter and tighter within you, “Ruined a couple pairs.”

“Bullshit.” His consonants slice through his vowels, accusatory and harsh. “Bet that pussy doesn’t even get wet after bein’ trained by me, does it?”

Try not to choke on your snarl, girl. “‘Least I don’t have to get head a block down from my ex’s shop — z’that the only way you can still get hard, Peña?” You muster up a daring smirk, shouldering his challenge head-on. “Hoping you’ll see me walk by so you can finish inside your whore?”

Bull’s eye.

“Don’t act like you give a single fuck where I’m gettin’ my dick wet, cariño.” Every inch of him bristles something fierce, but with skill and practice, he keeps his anger in check — maintains the upper hand — looming over you to consecrate the threat.

“Just pissed that I’m fuckin’ another bitch’s throat when we both know that’s what yours’s made for, right?”

The coil snaps.

Before you can stop it, your hand is in the air, gunning straight for the tan skin over his cheekbone.

In a blink, he’s strangling your wrist, holding back your palm from making punishing contact. The following pause is thick and heavy, quickly overflowing with Javi’s rage-soaked hunger. Dark and dangerous, the man hones in on your glare—

And speaks, voice low.

“Y’know, I let her swallow my load—”

“Let go of me.”

“—but you can take the next one.”

And then he flips you over, brushing off your indignant whine, flattening your back against his chest. Javi is strong (he always has been) and there’s no point in resisting (there never was). He’s unzipped himself, hiked your skirt up, wrenched your panties to the side and forced himself inside you in a matter of seconds.

Dear God, forgive me for getting my fix.

A big hand wraps around your throat while unforgiving arms form a prison around your body. He tilts your head back to face him, savouring your tightness, your suffering, and the strangled moan of pleasure dripping from your lips with his hips’ every rough throw.

“Always gonna belong to me, huh?”

His whisper settles over your skin, heightening that already-unbearable bliss. Your muddled mind and slackened mouth scramble to form words beyond full full full, yes yes yes.

“F-fuck you, Peña—” you spit through clenched teeth, squeezing your eyes shut in concentration. You fingertips grow sore, pressed to bruise along his forearms. “You’re worse than me—you-you know it.”

Javi responds with a tightened grasp and diligent, skilled digits falling to manhandle your clothed breasts. “Yeah, fuck you, too—” and it’s strained, etched with long-awaited relief, “—fuckin’ spoiled—jealous brat.”

An all-encompassing jolt to your system — he’s found that aching bundle. He carves words into your sensitive clit: you were never going to be anything but mine, mine, mine. The arch in your spine deepens; the back of your head falls helplessly against his collarbone. And despite yourself — despite his venom — you grin, catching the broken hallelujah underpinning every vowel, every touch of his desperate, repressed desire.

It’s a symphony you both sing, a thought hanging so heavy in the room it almost becomes a tangible part of your filthy entanglement.

“If I can’t have you, baby, no one else in this world can.”

—

[fangirl-dot-com]

Chapter 5 - Put it into Speed Drive

Longer chapter this time! The next update probably won't be until Tuesday, and or Wednesday night and then Thursday.

For planning, after 2023 is up, I will not be keeping up with the actual schedule for the races. The chapters will still come in chronological order, but it won't be week by week. This will be the start of the parallel universe.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please comment! And now enjoy the show :)

You were practically buzzing after the suit fitting. It was just one step closer to getting you in the car. Which would happen very soon. Sunday to be exact. Tomorrow. There were just so many words to describe how soon it was. 

You went from no open doors in F1 to a door that was blown to bits and then shredded, leaving a giant hole for you to just walk through. However, your daydreams of blowing doors up were interrupted by the growl of you stomach. You walked through the door of the fitting room and found Vito right where you left him. 

Such a good manager. 

He was talking to someone though, and you really didn’t want to interrupt. But, your stomach was about to commence in the whale mating call song and you really didn’t want anyone to hear that. Your eyes glanced around before they landed on Mitch, who seemed to just be typing on her tablet. 

You quickly walk over and tap her on the shoulder. “Mitch, uh, where would I be able to find some food?” 

She looked up from her tablet with a smile. Dang, did she just smile at everything? 

“I can take you to get some food if you’d like me to?” she responded. You quickly nodded your head. Taking the lead, Mitch started to walk over to the other side of the sim room. How many rooms were connected to this place? You wondered as she opened a door. 

“This room is one of the more private areas, which in return, gets its own side of the building. From here you’re able to reach just about any other place.” Now that was creepy, could she read your mind? 

Your face must have been in a contemplative look as she let out a small laugh. The walk was short as the two of you entered an all-while room. A small cooking bar was to the left while tables and chairs littered the rest of the floor. Your mouth was wide open. 

You told Mitch, “Dams is not this nice.” A pout came from you. 

“Well, now you don’t have to be jealous. You know that you work here now,” she reminded you as she took a tray and began to walk down the bar. You followed her doing and picked up your own tray. Looking up, you gazed over the menu, trying to find something that looked like it would fit in your diet. 

“By the way, everything here is supposed to go hand in hand with a driver’s diet. So pick anything you’d like,” a voice said from behind the counter. A woman with a hairnet smiled as you finally decided on a club sandwich with some chips (the crunchy kind – not French fries). Once you got your food, you walked over to the table next to the window where Mitch was already sitting. 

You quickly remember that you practically left Vito, so you shot him a quick text letting him know where you were. In typical fashion, she just sent a thumbs up emoji. What a dad. 

The two of you ate in silence for a bit, before Mitch spoke up. 

“So kid, tell me a little bit about yourself.” She took a bite of her sandwich. 

You quickly swallowed. “Uh, I’m 20 years old. I’m from a lot of places, didn’t really stay in one place for long. The longest I stayed anywhere was Texas for 5 years (a.n. shameless plug). I’m pretty introverted and don’t normally talk to others first. I have a little apartment in Nice, but now I think I should look for one close to here. I am an only child. And Danny DeVito is my spirit animal.” 

Mitch almost spit out her drink as her shoulders began to shake. That also got you laughing. “What about you?” you questioned back. You were beginning to feel sad because your sandwich was almost gone. 

“Well, I am 35. I have been at Red Bull for two years now. I was an engineer before this and worked on the car. I don’t have any kids.” 

You interrupted her, “Well now you do.” You pointed at yourself before taking a giant slurp of your drink. 

She rolled her eyes before continuing, “I’ve lived in London my whole life. I have a degree in engineering as well. And my favorite season is fall.” 

Small talk continued as you finished your lunch, or almost dinner. As you looked out the window, you saw that the sun was about to begin to set. You hadn’t realized how long everything had taken. A yawn escaped your lips as you and Mitch made your way back to the simulator room. There Vito was waiting for you, looking ready to go. Saying goodbye with a hug, you told Mitch that you’d see her bright and early for the test drive. 

Not wanting to get left behind, you found yourself sticking to Vito as he guided the two of you back down the poster hallway. At least now you were familiar with the turns and twists. Like the past few days, a car was waiting for you outside. Vito slipped into the driver’s seat while you went around and climbed into the passenger side. 

You immediately connected your phone to sound system. You snickered as you chose the song. 

Vito groaned when he heard the opening notes. You could only laugh as the beat started to pick up. 

“Ah-ah Barbie you’re so fine, you’re so fine you blow my mind. Jump into the driver seat and put it into speed drive,” you sang, directed at Vito. To hear the base a bit more, you turned the volume up. However, when it came to the next verse, and you were about to start yelling, your phone began to ring. 

Arthur’s contact photo, one of you at his birthday, popped up. You immediately answered the face time and yelled. 

“Dude, you threw off my groove!” His laughs could be heard throughout the car as his face got into the camera range.  

“I’m sorry?” 

“You should be. What’s up?” 

“I wanted to see if you wanted to hang out later tonight? Since I’m here for testing.” You froze and looked at Vito with wide eyes. You quickly pointed your phone towards the roof of the car. 

You mouthed, “What do I do?” You were scared. What were you supposed to say? Oh hey Arthur, I actually signed a multi-year contract with Red Bull two days ago. Sorry I couldn’t tell you sooner? You definitely could not do that. 

Yet, a slight jut of Vito’s head told you that you could tell him the truth. You inhaled sharply. 

“I’m actually not in Paris at the moment.” Arthur paused. . You only hoped that he wouldn’t be mad at you. 

“You’re not? I thought you were going to be sim testing.” 

“I thought so to. And then I might have gotten a text from…” you muttered the last bit. 

“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that.” He put a hand to his ear. 

You huffed before you shouted, clearly overwhelmed. “I got a text from Christian Horner and I’m driving with Red Bull for 2024!” Your shallowed breaths filled the air. Vito’s hand was placed on your knee for comfort. 

“Well, duh. I knew that dummy?” 

“Hello?” you could only get out. Who told him? 

“You do know that even though my brother may not seem to be friends with Max, they actually are. And Max likes to talk, so he told my brother and my brother told me.” Your eyes must have been bulging. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” you sighed, “I didn’t know if I could.” 

Arthur responded, “It’s quite alright. It was fun making you panic for a moment.” 

“You’re an ass. First you interrupt my wonderful concert that Vito was enjoying…” 

“I was not,” Vito leaned towards the phone. 

“As I was saying, men the woman is speaking, and then you decide to make me almost spiral into a panic attack. Not nice TurTur.” You wiggled your finger at the screen. 

He smiled, “I’m actually here in London as well. Thought you might want some company. And Vito invited me to see you drive tomorrow. I’m waiting in your room.” He showed you a room that was almost identical to the one you had at the hotel. You squealed at the thought of seeing him. 

It was a good thing that the car had pulled up to the hotel, because you seat belt flew off in record time. You barely were able to get a quick thank you to the workers before you got to the elevator. You’re sure you pressed the buttons too many times, but the damn thing wouldn’t open any quicker. 

The moment the doors open, you bolted inside, but came into contact with a body, that knocked the two of you over. You said a quick apology before darting to the side and getting in the elevator. You barely saw a neon hoodie and some brown curls before the doors closed. 

Pressing hard down on your floor button, you willed the elevator to move quicker. After what felt like forever, the box dinged. You dashed down the carpeted hallway as you took your key card out of your pocket. 

Although you barely swiped it, the lock beeped and let you into the room. 

Arthur was not expecting you to all but tackle him as you dive bombed into his arms. The forced knocked the both of you off the bed. The pile of limbs and bodies that you and your best friend were ended up in a pile on the floor. You could not stop laughing as you held him tighter. 

You needed him, especially after these past stressful days. Remembering what he did earlier, you pulled back and started to hit him. His hands raised up and tried to defend against your much smaller hands. 

“You” -hit- “are” -smack- “an” -whack- “ass Arthur Leclerc.” 

“Ouch woman, you hurt me,” he feigns as he puts a hand on his heart. Your attacks died down as you hauled yourself off the floor. You held out a hand, he took it, and you lifted him as well. But the moment he was upright, you pushed him over on the bed. His giggles left his mouth. Instead of getting up like you thought he would, he snuggled more into your bed. 

You might as well join him. Hiking your leg up, you rolled him over some before slotting yourself in the space next to him. He let out a noise of complaint, even though he basically opened you with opened arms. 

“I’m glad you’re here. It’s been very stressful,” your words were muffled as you put your head on his chest. 

He let out a scoff, “Sure. You’ve been playing around in the top of the line simulator.” 

Whack. 

“Would you stop that?” he questioned as he dug his fingers into your sides. Laughter soon tumbled out of your lips before you could stop them. 

“Arthur, stop it!” You tried to force his hands away. But because of your smaller build, he was able to continue the attacks. 

A knock at the door saved your life. You all but rolled off the bed, out of Arthur’s arms, and walked to the door. However, you flipped Arthur off before your hand reached the knob. On the other side of the door, Vito stood with his phone in his hand. He looked up once the door was all the way opened. 

“Hi Vito. What’s up?” you asked with head cocked to the side.

“You two up for some karaoke?” He looked over your shoulder at Arthur, who was still sprawled on the bed. 

“I’m down for it. Hey Arthur!” you yelled, Vito wincing at the volume. 

Arthur’s head popped up. “Yeah?” 

“Karaoke?”

He smirked. “Hell yeah.” 

A couple of hours later, you found yourself with Arthur in a karaoke room. Vito had been blacked out for a while on the couch. 

“COUNTRY ROAD, TAKE ME HOME, TO A PLACE, WHERE I BELONG!” Arthur sang into the very cheap looking microphone. 

You continued, sounding as equally bad, “WEST VIRGINA, MOUTAIN MOMMA, COUNTRY ROAD, TAKE ME HoOOoooOOOmE!” 

The song ended and you and Arthur took a mock bow. 

Arthur chanted, “Next song, next song, next song.” Yeah, he was definitely gone. 

“Since you ruined this earlier, I’m picking this one.” You clicked on a button. The familiar beats from earlier that day filled the small room. Arthur groaned from beside you. “Nuh-uh. This is your faut, and now you have to pay the price.” 

Half-heartedly, Arthur began to sing, “She my best friend in the whole world.” He pointed at you while singing the lyrics. You placed your hands on your chest and mocked a sincere look. He only shoved your head away and continued. 

You decided that standing on the table was a good place to sing the chorus, “AH AH BARBIE YOU’RE SO FINE, YOU’RE SO FINE YOU BLOW MY MIND” 

Arthur finally got into it, “JUMP INTO THE DRIVERS SEAT AND PUT IT INTO SPEED DRive…” the music was suddenly shut off. 

An angry looking worker walked in and told you to get off the table and to leave for the night. You sheepishly got down, walked over to Vito with Arthur, woke him up, and you three were on your way. 

The two of you looked like kids who had to be taken home after getting in trouble with the principal at the school. However, that wouldn’t stop the snickers and giggles that soon filled the whole car, Vito included. 

You were glad that it wasn’t too late. The next morning would be terrible if you didn’t have a good night’s sleep. 

Arthur made sure to get what time everyone was leaving before retiring to his room for the night. You made sure to post some things on your Instagram story before heading to bed. 

You were surprised you had gotten some sleep, because when you woke up, you couldn’t stop shaking. Not know if it was from excitement or nervousness, you got ready quickly. There was a fruit bowl in your room. For breakfast, you indulged in a banana and an orange. Vito probably arranged for a bigger breakfast to be served at the practice track. 

You met up with Arthur and Vito in the lobby. You nudged him as you walked passed. 

“You ready?” he asked as he followed you to the car that was waiting under the walkway. 

“As I’ll every be.” There was a slight hitch in your tone that told Arthur everything he needed to know. 

After the two of you climbed into the back seats, and Vito in the passenger seat, Arthur put his arm around you. Just the feeling of his company helped to ease the anxiety that was bubbling inside you. It seemed to grow with each corner that got you closer and closer to the track. 

There would be quite a few people there today, more than you would like. But each person was necessary. The track was farther and out of the city. 

You knew that Mitch would have your suit and helmet ready for you once you got there. You would be debrief on the track and how the car should behave. You would be doing a mock race, but it would still be shorter than most races – about 50 laps or so. 

Your goal that you had gone over with Mitch would be to set one of the fastest test laps. Your time to beat was 1 minute and 19.721 seconds. You thumbs-upped the message and said that you’d try your best. 

The car slowed down as it approached the entrance. And before you knew it, you were in your suit and balaclava as Mitch talked with you once more before you started getting in the car. It was one of the newer cars, the RB 17. 

You saw Christian approach and you checked over a few more things. 

“You like the car?” he asked, nodding his head over to the machine behind him. 

“I love it. Can’t wait to see how she drives. Was she driven for any races?” You were curious and wanted to know. 

He smirked. “That is Max’s championship car.” Your hands froze, holding your zipper. You looked up at Christian, eyes wide. You gulped. 

“Aha, very funny.” 

“I’m not joking.” His face was deadpanned. 

“Well, I will try to be careful with it.” He only laughed and put a hand on your shoulder. 

“You just drive the car like you normally do. The sim showed me everything I need to know.” With that, he walked closer to the wall and put a on a set of headphone.

“No pressure Y/n,” you told yourself. Breathing in and out, you put your helmet on. Arthur decided to walk up and clip the two straps for you, something he often did before your races. You both did your little handshake before he patted you shoulder. He was also given some headphones, along with Vito. They were all counting on you. 

You stepped closer to the car. Lifting your leg, you swung it over, then the other. You shimmied down into the car and connected the things that needed to be connected. The men around you started to lower the car and take off the different machinery. You would start the track on medium tires. You were told that after the first half, you could switch to the softs if you think you needed to. 

The final parts of the car were put on and you were handed the steering wheel. You carefully placed the connect parts together as you felt the car turned on. You could feel it almost breathing. It was alive. 

You were able to taxi the car out onto the mock grid. 

“Alright Y/n, radio check,” Mitch’s voice came on through your helmet. 

“If I can have a walk up song for Vegas, I heard a rumor that that was coming back, and if I get introduced, can it be Life is a Highway? Please?” 

“Radio is working,” Mitch responded. 

“Please Mitch?” you prodded. You heard a sigh as you smiled. 

“We can discuss later. I will ask Christian.” You did a small pump of your hands before getting back into the zone. From where you were, you had a good view of the lights. 

Breathe in. Breathe out. Speed. I am speed. 

Red. Red. Red. 

Green. 

Your feet hit the pedals and off you went for the “warming up” lap. The track had a good mix of straights and turns to warm up the tires. 

The first few laps after went smoothly. But, you knew it wasn’t time for your flying lap. To keep it fair, the past drivers only had one lap to set a time. 

You pressed the button for the radio, “There seems to be some unbalance on Turn 5. I don’t know if it’s the track or the car.” Your voice sounded rattly. 

“Checking,” Mitch responded back at the “pit lane.” 

Christian piped up from her right, “Max has said that before about that exact turn. It’s uncanny.” 

“Ok kid, it seems like it might be an issue with the track. Try to avoid it by slowing down to go wide, but accelerate going out of the apex.” 

“Roger,” you responded. On the next lap, you did exactly that. And you were pleased to see that it actually worked. 

“Balance of the car is good.” 

“Thank you Y/n.” 

“Can I come in for softs? I want to try the flying lap.” 

“Ok, box for softs.” 

You pulled your car into the pit lane. It wasn’t the fastest pit stop you’ve had, but it really didn’t matter. You did a few laps on the softs. Although you knew the track would eat them up, you also knew that you did your best laps on slightly used softs. 

Christian spoke up again, “She knows that softs run out quickly. She should have done the flying lap on the first one.” 

Now, Arthur talked first, “She does all of her best laps on slightly used softs. It’s how she’s won so many races. Because Y/n knows her tires better than anyone.” Christian hummed as he watched your dot go around the animated track. 

The radio beeped as a message came from your car, “I’m gonna go for it. Starting the flying lap.” 

Mitch responded, “Copy.” The team waited with baited breath and you seemed to glide around the turns. 

You were truly one with whatever car you drove. 

The clocked seemed to tick in slow motion as you finally came to the last straight. Once you passed the line, you slowed down just a bit. 

“Ok Mitch, how did I do?” you asked. 

She breathed before responding, “One minute, nineteen point 7 seconds. Congratulations kid, you have broken our current record. Your cheers could be heard over the radio. They mixed with the team’s own cheering as well. You were just .021 seconds faster than whoever held the previous record. And you did it in a two, almost, three year old car. 

“Who used to hold the position?” 

This time, Christian’s voice came on over the radio, “It was Max, kid.” 

You let out a laugh of disbelief, before realizing that Christian was on the radio. 

“Christian, can my walk up song for Vegas be Life is a Highway. Please.” You waited for his answer. 

“Sure kid.” 

“Yes! Best day ever! Can I got another lap? I want to put this baby into speed drive. Vito! Arthur!”

“On it kid.” 

“Got it Y/n!” 

You guessed one of them held their phones to the radio. This time you would hear the entire song. You knew it. You shimmied back down into the seat and floored the throttle. 

Tag List : @awekbachira @lightdragonrayne @leilanixx @angsthology @digitalizeduniqueness @topguncultleader @landosgirlxoxo @gods-menace @itsjustkhaos @thefandomswhre @alwaysboredsworld @vellicora @bintuabbas @sam-is-lost @empress-kimiko

[honeyangelkiwi]

Bull Riding & Boobies

Plot: Going to the bar and bull riding 🤷🏽‍♀️

Sexual Content: slight exhibitionism, grinding

Word count: 2.5k

The mechanical bull was throwing him around like he weighed nothing, but he was holding on for dear life, refusing to be tossed off. His hair was pulled into a loose bun on the top of his head. His head was thrown back in laughter, eyes crinkled shut, and with the widest smile on his face.

“I hate physical activity!” He hollered and everyone in the small bar laughed up at him. His friends were chanting for him to get someone up there with him and my friend did not hesitate to try and push me forward.

“No, there’s no way I can get up there with Harry fucking Styles! I can’t even believe we ended up in the same fucking bar as him!” I hiss at her as she still tries to push me forward.

“This is your chance, plus it’s your birthday! Just go!” She laughs at me and gives me a harder shove that actually makes me move forward a couple of steps. I turn around to see if anyone has noticed and, of course, I see one of his friends pointing at me.

Just as I am about to turn around and run for the hills, his head turns my way. The ride had come to a pause and it seems his friend had gotten his attention to turn towards me. I stood frozen, unable to move from his gaze. His eyes were sparked with mischief, adorning a matching smirk.

My best friend started pushing me forward again and all I could do was shake my head. I could see Harry start to laugh as he lifted his pointer finger to motion me over. I guess I didn’t have much of a choice now. I couldn’t say no to the Harry Styles.

I start to walk over, shocked, and face red with heat that could put hell to shame. As I approach, he looks down at me from his spot perched up on the fake bull and smirks once again. “Hope on up, love.” He says and pats the spot in front of him.

Shaking my head a little to clear the chaos and get a bit of confidence back I look up to him and smile sweetly. “Which way do you want me… love? Would you rather look at my chest or my backside?” I question, and wow where did that come from. I look back up at him through my thick lashes and see the shocked look on his face.

I could see how stunned he was, but he soon shook the feeling from himself and his eyes immediately darkened. I was so startled by the quick change that I subconsciously took a step back. With the smirk back on his face he reaches a hand down for me to take and helps me hop on, my back flush with his chest.

“I guess we know you’re an ass man then, Harry Styles.” The words tumble from my lips before my mind could catch up with my mouth. Before I could overthink I turned to look at him with a smirk and see he’s leaning into my ear. “I would say both, but for this specifically, I am definitely an ass man.” He says and I involuntarily shiver from the feeling of his breath cascading down my neck.

I can’t help the way my head falls back into his chest as my eyes flutter shut, the feeling going straight to my core. I feel his hands slide around me, one grasping my hip and the other grasping the handle in front of us.

“Couldn’t pass up the opportunity to have a free ride.” His voice drops lower as his mouth meets the skin just below my ear. Goosebumps rise across my skin understanding what he was implying. Who would have thought he would be so… filthy and straight forward in such a public space and with a stranger.

The grip he has on my waist is burning straight through me. His rings pressed into my skin and I can feel how clammy his hands were from the previous round he did up here. I glance to my side to see my friend staring at us, mouth on the floor. I simply shrugged at her, silently telling her ‘this was your idea.’

She laughs at herself and shakes her head, walking off towards the bar. Knowing her, she’s going to have a round waiting for us when this is over.

Having not been paying attention to the task at hand I jump, startled when the ride slowly starts moving. “Better hold on love, it doesn’t stay this easy.” Harry leans back down to my ear. The hand on my hip slides around my waist and pulls me back, until I am practically sitting on his lap.

I wiggle my hips around a bit to tease him. “You’re in for one hell of a free ride.” I chuckle towards him when I hear the smallest groan fall past his bright, pink lips, wet from licking them.

I still can’t wrap my head around him being so forward with a random girl, but I’m not complaining. I just can’t believe this is actually happening, and to me of all people, and on my birthday. Whatever God people believe in, I’m thanking him.

“I hope this is okay, love. Did I mention how gorgeous you are? I’m glad my friend put my attention on you.” He says into my ear, the bull starting to move around a bit more. His lips move down to my neck and leave a small open-mouthed kiss.

“Mmm, this may sound bad to say to a stranger, but it’s more than okay.” I tell him, moving my neck more to the side to give him more access, hoping he’ll keep up the gentle assault. “I have a feeling this is going to be one hell of a birthday present.” I say.

He pulls back a little to look down at me, eyebrows raised with a surprised look on his face. “Well then, should I wait to tell you happy birthday before or after your present?” If I wasn’t on this contraption my thighs would be pressed so tight together. The suggestion in his tone is fogging my brain. “How about after.” I tell him.

Just as he was about to respond the machine jerked particularly hard and sent my backside grinding right into his lap. I let out a gasp, only now realizing the hardness pressed up against me. The fact that I was wearing a dress that ended up laid out over the both of us instead of underneath my bottom made it easy to feel everything… and there was definitely a lot to feel.

“Jesus fuck.” He groaned out, head dropping to my shoulder. The machine continued to jerk around some more. It was both sending my ass back into his center and whipping us around like ragdolls. It somehow managed to be perfectly balanced, riling us both up some more.

I can feel how sweaty he is behind me. His arms coated in a thin sheen, glowing in the darkened room. It's coating through his shirt enough that I can feel it on my back, and it may seem weird, but I can’t wait to get a taste. His grip tightens on my waist briefly and I turn to look at him questioningly, only to see his gaze focused solely on my chest.

I can tell he wasn’t lying about being a boobs and ass guy, because if we weren’t up here right now, based on the look on his face, it would be buried into my chest. I can’t help but groan thinking of those diamond shaped lips wrapped around my nipples, sucking and biting them. I can see him teasing his hand down into my panties and praising how wet I was for him from a simple touch.

Still not believing that I was quite literally on Harry Styles fucking lap I glance around the small bar and see that no one is actually paying attention to us up here. I would assume it was because there weren’t many people here to begin with.

Suddenly, Harry’s arm that was around my waist lets go, and for a split second I panicked knowing I would go flying off if he wasn’t holding on. But just as quickly as he let go, he was grabbing onto me again, except this time his arm went under my dress to hold on to me.

“Still okay, love?” He asks, and I can’t lie, my heart fluttered at the way he was caring enough to make sure I was okay with everything. I tell him yes, and I can’t deny how turned on I am that he’s doing this. Turned on by the fact that anyone can look over at us and see his hand under my dress and the looks on our faces and know exactly what’s happening up here.

With another quick look around I turn and glance at him. His eyes are black, no longer green, the lust is pouring from him and the second we make eye contact the tension between us skyrockets. Deciding to take this further I pick up the rhythm of the ride, grinding back into him in time with the machine.

Aside from his hand being under my dress, from the outside it simply looks like we’re successfully maneuvering our way on this beast, not teasing each other up here. “You gonna come with me when we’re done up here?” He quite literally moans in my ear. His voice is several tones deeper, raspy, and laced with need.

“As long as you want me to. Nothing more I’d wa…” I couldn’t control the moan that fell from my mouth. The cheeky fucker decided it was the pefect time to take the hand that was holding onto me and move it to my core. He wasn’t shy at all, because he full on pulled my panties to the side and swiped his fingers from my entrance to my clit, stopping to rub a small circle.

My head fell forward as I gasped for air, shocked he was bold enough to do that up here. He pulled his hand back and I couldn’t stop the whine that fell from my lips, needing more than just the small, tantalizing touch.

“Harry, don’t fucking tease me. If you’re gonna touch me then do it and don’t stop.” I snap at him, turning my head in his direction, frustrated with the teasing. I wanted to slap the smirk right off of his face. “So fucking needy baby, don’t worry. I’ll take care of that ache between your legs. Get your belly in that feeling I know you’re craving right now.” And Christ does his filthy mouth make the wetness between my legs pool even more.

He glances around for a second before he suddenly grabs my hair and pushes me down so that my chest is flat against the ride. As soon as he does the machine starts jerking very violently, sending his hardness right up into my center with each movement.

It takes everything in me not to moan out, because every movement pushes him straight into my clit. The roughness of his jeans is very noticeable through my thin underwear. Being up here is doing nothing but sending us both spiraling and I can’t wait to get off. It seems like we’ve been up here for hours, but it couldn't have been more than two minutes.

There’s no way people don’t know what’s happening here. It takes one glance at us to see me bent over, face and chest flush against the bull, Harry’s hands wrapped in my hair and around my waist, and his hips driving into me at a sickening pace. If there weren’t clothes separating us his cock would be driving straight into the spot I crave him the most.

Harry bends over so his mouth hits my ear, moaning absolute filth to me while his hips continue driving into me. “If there weren’t people around right now love I would have my cock so deep in you you’d feel me up in your tummy. I can feel how wet you are, soaking me through my pants, gonna make it look like I came for you up here. Wanna have you bent over a counter right now so you can watch me in the mirror, fucking you so good I have to hold you up.” I can only moan, feeling myself clench around nothing.

“Fuck baby, I can feel you tryna squeeze me.” He moans, his face so close to my mouth that I can’t help but to reach out and kiss him. Only we both get thrown from the ride and I’m scrambling to keep my dress covering myself.

I catch my breath for a minute and glance over at Harry who is smirking down at his pants. There is, in fact, a wet spot right where we were attached and, although I’m still very turned on, I can’t help the need to look down, letting my hair fall across my face as a curtain to hide the embarrassment.

“Don’t be shy now, love. We’re just getting started.” He says and holds a hand out to help me up. He starts leading me away from the ride towards the bathrooms and if I wasn’t so turned on from the ride I would have refused, but it’s Harry Styles and I am turned on. So, to the bathroom we go.

I glance over my shoulder for my friend and catch her eye. The look she’s giving me let’s me know she saw what just happened and can’t fucking believe it either. I gave a shrug and waved my hand at her letting her know she can leave without me if she wants. She nods and then shakes her head laughing while leaving. Right before we walk into the bathroom she hollers happy birthday to me across the bar. Fortunately, no one was paying attention or everyone would see me walking in here with a guy.

Luckily, this is a single bathroom and it isn’t occupied. He swiftly locks the door and grabs my waist, shoving me into the door with just enough force that it’s still attractive. His lips are on my neck in an instant. “You looked so good bent over for me out there, love.” and he pulls back slightly to finally smash his lips onto mine………

[rosewine-5]

𝑽𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒖𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝑨𝒅𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 (2)

Billy the Kid x b!woc reader

Being the pastor’s daughter meant you had to always be on your best behavior, never stepping off the right path, walking the straight & narrow path, and her eyes towards heaven. That was until a certain outlaw rode into your life, and taught you sometimes it okay to have a taste of hell with a little bit of heaven.

A.N: reader’s last name is Bennett.

A.N2: Thank you all for the likes & feedback from part one, here’s part 2!

UPDATE: Part 3 is here!

Word count: 1.1k

divider by saradika

Over the next few days, you tried to ignore Billy like the plague. He had a different idea, he would follow you like a lost puppy, never close enough for you to see, but you knew his eyes were on you. Going into town: you knew he was there. Working at the bar: you knew he was there. Even in church: you knew he was there and it drove you crazy. You all were taught to not look behind you during service, eyes forward and towards the pulpit at all times.

You were yearning to catch a glimpse of him, just to know you weren't crazy. However, you couldn't risk getting scolded by your mother for improper behavior. So you sat still, the burning of his eyes on you nagging you the entire time. As you waited for your father to finish saying goodbyes, you heard a voice behind you. “I should’ve known the pastor's daughter could clean up so well,” Billy said, looking you up and down.

“I didn't know the cowboy knew the Lord’s word either.” you responded, looking at him. “We all have our secrets, darling.” He said, a smirk appearing in the corner of his mouth. “So what are yours, Billy?” you asked, leaning on the wall and looking up at him. “I'm not telling mine if you're not telling yours, Ms. Bennet.” He grinned. You peeped inside the door and saw your father still in the middle of a conversation, so you had time. “Alright, I'll let you ask 3 questions about me, and I'll do the same with you, deal?”

“Deal. First question: Have you ever had a drink, and I ain't talking about wine?" Billy asked, to which you nodded in response. "Never. Have you ever taken someone's life?" you asked, noticing a slight twitch in his eyes. "Yes, I killed men before.” he replied, making your blood freeze. You felt your eyes go wide. “Let me guess, it goes against one of the Lord’s rules?” Billy asked, a tone of sarcasm laced in his voice. “Yes, a pretty big one!” You shouted, making him chuckle.

“Don't worry sweet thing, I'd never kill something so pure and innocent as you.” He smirked, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “I'm not so innocent, murderer.” You snapped, the grin never leaving his face. “Oh really? So you’ve held a gun before?“ Billy asked, raising his eyebrows. “Of course I have!” you answered, making him gasp loudly and putting his hand over his heart in a mocking manner. “I thought you were a proper lady Ms. Bennett! How dare you touch a gun!” he said, adding an exasperated gasp to his sentence, making you laugh.

“Shut your mouth! I know how to use one, I've just never shot one.” You said, seeing him side-eye you. “You poor soul.” you heard him whisper to himself. “So, why do you bother me so much?” you asked, giving him a sharp and challenging look. “You intrigue me, little Bennett. I don't get how you've had such a protected lifestyle.” be answered. “Having a stable life isn't protected.” You said, shrugging. “Yeah? Because I've seen those brothers of yours in the bar, and they have the same rules you do I assume.” said, making you nod.

“Bull. Shit.” he said, chuckling. “You don't even see how deprived you've been of fun because you’ve had your eyes set on heaven the whole time.” Billy said, and then you saw his smile change, his eyes darkening. “Oh. You poor little thing. You don't know what you're missing out on.” He said, making you look at the ground in embarrassment. “Eyes are up here, little girl.” he said, tilting your head up. “So then answer my last question. What do you want from me?” you asked, annoyance laced through your words.

He smirked and then grasped your necklace and tugged it slightly so you were almost nose to nose. “I thought I made my thoughts clear from the start, honey. I want you.” He said, hearing the desire in his tone.

You stepped away from him like he was a raging fire, and yet you stayed close enough to still be within arms reach. You both didn't say a word, you didn't need to. His word rang in your ears. This man was a walking sin, the devil in the form of a man: a very handsome man. His eyes glued to your face, waiting for your next move.

Just like that the word faded away. You were no longer outside the church, you were in your own little paradise. The one that surrounded you when you got lost in his eyes. Your dress softly flows in the wind, yet you don't feel the chill of the breeze. You didn't feel anything actually.

“I want you”

He didn't know how those 3 words and 8 letters affected you, but then again, maybe he did. Did he want to make you get flustered like this? Possibly. Would you slap him if no one else was around? Probably.

At the same time did you think about what he was saying? Definitely!

Before you could give him an answer, he spoke up first. “Don't you wanna live, honey?” Billy asked, giving you that same signature smile. Fuck him and his cowboy casanova ways, God excuse my French. As a matter of fact, fuck his pretty smile. Fuck his beautiful eyes. Fuck his large strong hands and make you lose your words with a simple touch. And fuck yourself for crushing on him.

Before you could answer him, you were happy to see your father walk out with your mother and father in tow. “Thank you Jesus!” you thought. “Ah! Billy. I see you've met my daughter.” He said, putting a firm hand on your shoulder. “Lovely daughter you've raised, sir. She was just helping me understand the message today, wise girl you have right there.” he said, giving you a kinder smile, but the true intentions remained a secret, one only you two knew.

“Well if you ever want to study the word more, she’ll talk to you about it. Won't you, dove?” he asked, the stern look in his eyes daring you to say “no” along with his palm on your shoulder. “Bringing a man closer to God and Jesus gets you to heaven as you always say.” You said with a nervous smile. Billy, who was now leaning on the wall, gave a knowing look in his eyes. “Closer to heaven” you say, Ms. Bennett?” He asked, a playful edge showing through his words. “Amen to that.” he said, taking your hand and kissing it softly. Before you walked away with your family, he whispered to you one last time. “Now I have a veiled excuse to have you to myself.” And with one last smirk, he walked away from you, leaving you shaken.

Your dad had no idea what he had just done. For a man of God, he seemed to be blind to the works of the blue-eyed devil in front of him.

The man who preached on saving souls from temptation just presented the blue eyed silver tongued serpent with his new Eve.

And the apples were looking riper by the minute.

[g-xix]

Rodeo Ride | George Clarkey

George Clarkey smut as requested by @jazsiken and i didn't really like George when I first started writing this... But goddamn he is fine. Proof:

Lenger. Content (warnings): Smut, 2.3k wordcount, alcohol/drinking Without further ado- enjoy.

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

Something about the way George rode the rodeo machine had you feeling a type of way you hadn't realised you'd felt for George. 

The way his hips had moved so fluidly, back and forth, I could only savour the moment as I watched in awe. One hand on the stick, one hand up in the air, George's hips rocked back and forth and I could only gulp down my drink further, trying not to let the heat rise up to my cheeks as I felt myself get more turned on. 

It was all well and good jokingly giving each other pick-up lines in front of the camera, making innuendos and awkward flirting- but actually catching feelings was not on the agenda. Especially not when it was the first time you'd ever really met up in real life.

"You never told me George was so fine." I announced to Cam and Chloe, joining them at the bar. Them two were the sweetest partners, always in each others arms and looking at one another like they saw shooting stars in one another's eyes. 

"I thought you could tell through the screen," Chloe grinned, taking a sip from her cup. "You seemed to acknowledge it all whenever you was filming-"

"They were jokes!" I hissed, looking backwards and noticing that a now very drunk Max Balegde was on the bull, and had gathered quite the crowd to cheer him on. "I didn't realise he was actually hot in real life!"

"I did." Cam spoke bluntly and shrugged. Chloe sighed with a small smile before losing eye contact with me and grinning as she looked behind me.

"What," I narrowed my eyes at the smiley girl, not wanting to lose eye contact but also wanting to see what was behind me. "what are you smiling about-"

"You alright?" I felt a hand on my lower back and turned around to see none other than gorgeous George himself- drink in hand and smile on face.

"Yep, just gonna nip to the toilet-" Chloe excused herself, Cam following- though he flashed me an overexaggerated wink as he left, causing me to giggle despite deeply dying inside.

George's hand felt so right on my lower back, the tips of his fingers curling around my waist and sending tingles down my spine at the feeling of it. He trailed his across to my arm leaving goosebumps where he touched, and gently pulled me closer as he sat on one of the barstools- manspreading his legs either side and testing my dignity as I tried not to look down to his hips which had seduced me so strongly only a few minutes ago.

"You look really great, Holly." He smiled, his beautiful blue eyes seeming to glow despite the dim bar's lighting. 

"Well you look sexy." I spoke my thoughts without any hesitation, trying not to regret them as they left my mouth with the confidence of a couple drinks. George cocked a brow, smiling cockily enough to make me feel weak in the knees.

"You really think?" He mused. 

"Yes." I nodded with a smirk growing on my lips as his own began showing in the corners of his lips. Fuck he was so hot. I stepped forwards, resting my hands against George's thighs and leaning forwards to shorten the gap between our us. 

"Is that so? Well, I gotta admit I wasn't expecting you to be this confident considering it's the first time we've really met," George responded, his voice low and husky. His fingers brushed against my cheek, sending a shiver down my spine. "But I think I like it."

Our faces were so close they were almost touching, and his eyes only flickered down to my lips for a millisecond, but that was enough for me to bridge the gap, smashing our lips together without second thought. His lips began moving with mine, quickly developing into a passionate open mouth kiss as his hand trailed down to my lower back once more- pulling me closer so that I was flush against his body, wrapping my arms around his neck and deepening the kiss as I felt my body arch into his. We only drew away a moment later, myself gasping into the kiss as I felt something hard from his cargos pressing into my lower stomach. 

"Wanna take this somewhere more private?"

I grabbed onto his hand, leading him out of the bar with haste- not bothering to say goodbye to anyone else. Although it seemed we were spotted anyway.

"BYE HOLLY, BYE GEORGE!" Arthur waved happily, probably not realising the situation. Arthur Hill spoke a few quick words which seemed to get it through to him though, as Arthur's mouth fell agape. And that caused:

"USE PROTECTION!" Cam yelled, making me blush a bright crimson red before the cool outside air hit my cheeks, making it all feel so much more real- the tight grip of George's hand, the tingle of George's lips against mine- it was all happening so quickly but fuck, I was happy about it.

One quick Uber later, George had me against his apartment wall, head rolled back and chest heaving as he kissed across my jaw before his lips left and found my neck, finding my sweet spot effortlessly as I let out a loud groan, making him suck harder- gently biting and leaving a red mark which drove me wild.

"Jump," He mumbled into my neck, and I did just that- wrapping my legs around his waist as his hands trailed down my back before landing square on my arse, walking me through to a bedroom whilst his lips remained attached to my collarbone, likely leaving a few more marks. 

Laying me down on the bed gently, he quickly stripped his shirt off before assisting me in ripping off my tight dress, both of us pausing our motions for a moment to just appreciate one another's bodies. His jaw fell slack, eyes following the gentle curves all the way from my chest down to my thighs, whilst I couldn't rip my eyes away from his built arms all the way to his toned abs. 

"You're so fucking gorgeous," He breathed after a moment, reconnecting the space between us to slot our lips together again, hungrily, as though he needed to taste my lips again. 

Breaking the kiss, he began trailing down my body, licking a stripe over one of the red marks he'd already left, making me moan and arch my back into him, needing more- craving him. He pulled my bra to the side, caressing my tits, pressing his tongue flat to the bud whilst his other hand gently pulled the other. 

To say I was completely at mercy to his touch was an understatement, I was completely drunk to his touch at this point. 

He trailed lower down my body, stopping as he came level with my core, his breath fanning against my panties and landing cool against my inner thighs, making me squirm- waiting for him to do something. 

"You want me to touch you?" His voice was unexpected, breaking the silence with his words which were velvety and low. 

"Yes, of course," I breathed, and he put either hand on my thigh, rolling his large hands back and forth over them before responding.

"Beg for it."

His words only triggered me more, making me want it- want him even more despite the teasing. I felt shivers running down my spine as I spoke.

"Please, George..." I whispered, my voice trailing off.

"Please what?" The smirk in his voice was evident.

"Please..." I scrunched my eyes together, lowering my voice to a whisper, feeling almost embarrassed as I asked for it. "Fuck me."

"Louder, baby."

"Fuck me!" I exclaimed, sitting up to make eye contact with his stupidly bold and brazen face. Seeing his face- that smirk that quirked up the corners of his lips, his intoxicated blue eyes- and that clean stubble made me want to wrap my legs around his head until my thighs were burning from the way his stubble grazed my skin whilst he lapped me up. 

Clearly that was a thought for another day though, as I watched George undoing his belt, fingers working so elegantly despite his hasty neediness, and I had to stop myself from begging him to fuck me with them instead. 

He flipped me so that I was on my front instead, muttering "ass up," so that I was arching my back to him, before I felt his tip running along my core, my slick coating his cock as I leant back into his touch, hearing him let out a deep groan of pleasure as he inserted himself in, my eyes rolling to the back of my head as I felt him bottom out, tip kissing my cervix as he paused for a moment- before pulling all the way out and slamming back in again, eliciting a moan from me as I felt him hit that sensitive spot inside of me.

I arched my back, feeling him hit that spot again and again as he thrusted, hands gripping onto my waist with such force I could feel my hips bruising- though I couldn't care less at the moment.

Letting my head roll back, eyes screw close as the pad of his thumb made contact with my clit, rubbing in slick figures of eight- I saw our reflections in the mirror. George seemed in a state of absolute bliss as he pounded, the sight of his unthinkably perfect hips making my pussy tighten around him which elicited another moan from him. And the sight of me- so lost in his touch- hair completely roughed, ass up and face clearly gone with each thrust he delivered, it was only going to take a few seconds before I came.

George grabbed my hair, pulling it back so that my head was pulled back as well, exposing my raw throat and hickeyed collarbone and neck in the mirror. With the sight of George's blissed face and feeling of him pounding me whilst stimulating my clit as well, I felt the pressure build in my stomach come loose as I let out a lewd moan, George muttering a fuck as he felt me tightening, before with a few more thrusts, I felt him fill me too. He thrusted though our highs for a few more moments, giving me stars in my vision from the prolonged pleasure as I felt my eyes rolling to the back of my head, before I collapsed down onto the bed, completely euphoric after what I'd felt.

George on the other hand gently began giving soft, chaste kisses to the back of my neck and back, mumbling soft praises of well done, gorgeous and you're so beautiful.... Before disappearing from the room for a few moments, coming back with a cloth and some water for me- cleaning the mess around us and helping me get into bed, before slipping in besides me and wrapping his arms around my waist tightly, leaving a smile on my face as I felt myself fall asleep against George.

------------ BONUS ------------

BRINGGGG BRINGGGG BRINGGGG

George and I simultaneously let out a groan at the noise. Having peacefully been holding onto one another, whispering little talk and simply enjoying the feeling of a shared bed- neither of us wanted to get up. And that sound of the phone ringing wasn't much appreciated either.

I picked my phone from the bedside table, reading Chloe's name pop up on the screen. 

"It's Chloe, I can't just ghost her because she calls until I actually pick up." I groaned, pressing the green accept button before realising I'd accepted to a facetime.

Her face popped up with wide eyes and messy hair, jaw dropping open as she saw my view. Clicking on the little rectangle in the corner, I understood why she'd reacted that way.

My hair was a ruffled mess (quite clearly in the sex-way), it clearly wasn't my room (very distinct lavender walls), and worst of all- three blossoming hickeys were visible across my neck. 

Pulling the duvet up and burrowing down to cover the marks across my neck, I only made a greater folly by then exposing George behind me, lazing flicking through his phone with his arm around me. 

Chloe let out a pitchy scream with a huge grin on her face, causing George to look at my phone with wide eyes before bursting out into laughter as he saw himself and I on screen together, burrowing his head in the crook of my shoulder to cover his laugh as he watched Chloe's reaction as well.

"Well that's one way to wake up," He grinned before removing his head from my neck and also spotting the bright purple marks on my body. His eyes fell wide, giving me a surprised look as he noticed them, clearly shocked at his last night's actions as another voice was heard from the phone.

"You alright, Chloe?" A voice spoke from behind the camera. It sounded like Arthur's distinguishable voice, meaning that he had probably stayed over at Cam and Chloe's for the night. 

I watched as ArthurTV's face popped into the frame, looking confused before he spotted George and I. 

"Oh, hey guys," He smiled, having no reaction to seeing George and I in the same bed. "I stayed over at Cam and Chloe's, I guess you guys did the same."

Arthur then promptly left, leaving George, Chloe and I to laugh as Arthur's lack of realisation or just reaction to seeing George and I in the same bed. 

"What?" He asked from further away, clearly not understanding what we found so funny. "Have I not seen somethin- OH."

Clearly the realisation hit him then, as he marched back to look at Chloe's phone and double check that George and I were indeed sharing a bed.

"DID YOU GUYS SLEEP  TOGETHER?!"

We could only laugh at Arthur- George once again burrowing his head into my shoulder as he dissipated into a fit of laughter, Arthur covering his mouth in horror before also putting a hand over his eyes and walking away seemingly horror-struck.

For some reason I was left hoping I could wake up more frequently in George's arms, and it seemed George felt the same way.

----------

Hope you enjoyed reading!! Feel free to interact- whether that be a comment, vote or follow! Requests open, feel free to submit what u wanna see... Much love!!

To see more, here's my MASTERLIST

And here's my WATTPAD, with 50+ more oneshots to read

[lw77]

Diet Pepsi 💈 (LSxMV)

Chapter 2. - Hunter?

“What’s wrong, Angel? I think you know I’m not interested in either,” Max says, a cheeky smile pulling at his lips.

Logan’s head is bent over the order sheet his dad had left him to figure out, because in his Father’s words he “needs to know more than how to scan items in the store.” Still in disbelief over his Father, because Logan stocks the chips all the time. That’s two things he does in the store. 

He hears the shop door jingle, thinking it’s his dad back from accepting their stock delivery. Frustrated, he whines, “This looks like a multiplication chart with words, Dad! How am I supposed to order anything?” His tone stretches into tantrum territory; he might as well have stomped his foot and crossed his arms.

“Why don’t you pout too, son? I figured it out, and you will too,” his dad replies as he walks in. But as Logan looks up, he realises it’s not just his dad who has entered— Max is behind him.

Max’s bright blue eyes lock onto Logan’s, and he can see the amusement swimming in them. Logan straightens up, flushed, clearly aware that Max has overheard his mini tantrum. He watches as Max heads to the fridge for a drink, his gaze trailing from Max’s broad shoulders in that tight white shirt down to the taper of his waist. But before he can let his gaze wander lower, his dad steps in front of him, waving his hand from side to side to catch his attention.

Startled, Logan exclaims, “Jesus, Dad! Give a guy a warning.” His dad deadpans, “I did, son. You just seemed to be else where,” unsubtly hooking a thumb back to indicate where Max stands.

“Yeah, OK. I’ll figure it out, whatever,” Logan mutters, flustered at being caught checking out Max by his dad.

“I think it’s not just the ordering you need to figure out, son,” his dad says, subtly eyeing both Logan and Max, who is still choosing a beverage. Amusement laces his dad’s voice as he comments on Logan’s plight.

“Stop it, please” Logan hisses in alarm, trying to keep his voice low.

His dad just laughs, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Just saying, son, sometimes you have to ride the bull by the horns,” he adds, the last part louder than Logan would like.

"That's not even how the saying goes," Logan whines.

"Oh, I know how the saying goes. I just thought this was more fitting to your situation," his dad replies plainly, as an explanation.

Yeah, Logan would rather get rammed by an actual bull than hear his dad give him any more dating advice or try to play wingman.

Cringing inwardly, Logan looks up, silently praying, *Please, God, if you can hear me, save me. I promise I’ll go to confession more often, and I won’t even bully Oscar for being a math geek anymore.* God must’ve had a needy child to answer because Max is approaching the register. Meanwhile, his dad unhelpfully lingers to the side of the counter, clearly enjoying the view of Max and his own beet-red son.

Logan shoots his dad a look. His dad’s expression is one of unhidden glee, but thankfully, he turns to busy himself straightening some candy bars—still in clear view of the two but less obvious.

“H–Hi, will that be all for today?” Logan asks, pulling himself up by his customer service bootstraps. *Eat your heart out, Dad .*

Max looks at him, eyes squinting as if he knows just how flustered Logan is. Logan tries to focus on the cross necklace peeking out from Max’s white tee, glinting and inviting.

“Yes, Angel.”

The nickname makes Logan’s whole body flush with heat, and his eyes snap up to meet Max’s. He quickly glances at his dad, who ducks down as Logan catches him snickering.

Logan scans the bottle and turns the reader toward Max.  His tongue feels thick as Max holds his gaze.“O–ok, w–well that’s good, here’s your t–total. Would you li-like your receipt?” he finally stutters out.

“No thanks, keep it. See you at lunch, Angel.” Max’s blue eyes twinkle warmly as he winks and waves goodbye to Logan’s dad, who is now openly watching.

When the door closes behind Max, his dad smirks. “Well, that’s one way to grab the horns, son. Can’t lie, didn’t think you had it in you. I thought we’d have to renovate your bedroom to get that boy in there.”

“Oh my god,” Logan groans. “Aren’t you supposed to want to save my innocence?” He’s mortified that even his parents are so aware of his blatant attraction.

“I think that went out the window when we saw your clothes from College, Logan. I mean, you might as well have worn assless chaps, son. Your mom worried someone had vandalised your clothes,” his dad says, barely holding back his laughter. Logan looks at him in shock, mouth agape at his dad’s relentless teasing.

__________________________

He hears Danny’s croon of “Logie boy! I have a present for you” all the way from the back room. As he heads out to the cash register, he spots Danny standing there with a relaxed Alex by his side. Upon seeing him, Danny wiggles his fingers in a “ta-da” motion toward Alex.

“Wow. You shouldn’t have,” Logan says dryly, squinting and raising an eyebrow in mock scrutiny. “Actually, I think I already have this model. Are you sure the contracting isn’t just a front for your stealing, Danny?” he calmly asks, making Danny guffaw in surprise at Logan’s humor, while Alex quietly laughs, familiar with his best friend’s wit when he’s coherent.

“Anyways, how’s your first day, Alex? Any hot milfs on the trail yet?” Logan asks, leaning his forearms on the counter.

“How come you never ask me if I have any milfs on the trail, Logan? I’m hurt! Is it because I’m Australian?” Danny replies, one hand on his hip and the other over his heart.

Logan ignores Danny, prompting a squawk of indignation that draws the rest of their crew to the register.

Continuing Danny’s train of thought, George chimes in, “Yeah, Logan, is it because I love the Queen? Is that why you won’t ask me about any of my milfs or dilfs?”

Charles adds, “Is it because I’m not actually French, little Logan? I’ll have you know that hasn’t been a problem.”

And it continued, until Carlos finishes his argument, and Logan groans in disbelief, holding his face in his hands muttering a muffled, “You guys are ridiculous.”

Raising his head, Logan realizes no one else is trying to make their case for being a milf or dilf hunter. He sees Max in front of him, eyebrow quirked.

“What’s wrong, Angel? I think you know I’m not interested in either,” Max says, a cheeky smile pulling at his lips.

“Ye-Yeah. Uh-huh,” Logan sighs, feeling like liquid fire wherever Max’s gaze trails.

Max’s eyes are warm, like they were this morning, but there’s something else there as he drinks in Logan’s obvious blush and bright eyes.

Their staring is interrupted by Danny’s sudden clap. Logan turns toward the loud man as he declares, “Oh yes! Logie boy, tomorrow is Alex’s official welcome party. So pack your swimmers and party pants—we’re going out on the lake, then back to our lake house for a little party. Nothing crazy, of course,” Danny adds, though his unconvincing tone makes some of the crew laugh at his obvious lie.

Logan glances at Alex, who just shrugs as if he doesn’t know much either. “Sure, is Oscar coming too?” he asks Alex.

“Yeah, he sa—” Alex starts, but is loudly interrupted by Danny. “Hey, Logie Boy, you may have an issue with us Aussies, but they’re always welcome at my parties!” He wags his finger accusingly.

Rolling his eyes, Logan replies, “Sure,” in mock exasperation.

He turns back to Max, realising the man never looked away during the whole interaction; his gaze is firmly fixed on Logan. The heat rushes to Logan’s cheeks again.

“So I’ll see you tomorrow, Angel?” Max asks calmly, as if he’s not claiming Logan in front of his whole crew, or staring him down with that bone-melting gaze.

Logan’s tongue feels too big, and his mind is blissfully cottony. “Ye-yes, I’ll, uh, see you,” he nods, trying to affirm it to himself.

“Can’t wait, Angel,” Max says before leaving, with some of the crew following him out, all flashing Logan a mock salute.

His best friend is the last to leave, making a crude motion with his hands. Logan flips him off and mouthing an annoyed “ alboner"

Oh god, he's going to see Max wet and half-naked tomorrow. Oh my god, he will be wet and half-naked tomorrow too.

Chapter 1 - Angel

Chapter 3 - Sunburn

[ghostmoon1]

Dusted Rivalries - Chapter One

Master List | Chapter Two

Call of Duty Fic - Task Force 141 - Cowboy AU

Summary: You were at the bar after a long day but get way to drunk and end up riding the mechanical bull that is in the bar. Simon and Johnny witness this... and so do other men.

Paring: Not yet, y'all find out who soon :P

Words: 2,153

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and drinking + being drunk, guy being a creep (touching without consent, not very bad), vomit, swearing, slight Scottish slang (probably not the best. leave me be), unintentional kidnapping.

A/N: Hello guys!! This fic has FINALLY been started, and I'm very excited for it! I have a fair bit planned, and hopefully I can get chapters out between school. I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I do :)

Tough days and long, drawn-out nights. Working in the military was always hard, non-stop in one way or another. But now, working on a farm; Simon almost wanted to say it was just as bad sometimes. At least now they were able to go out for drinks almost every night. His favourite bar, The Western Star, was a place full of lively people. The sound of boots tapping against the cold hardwood boards mixed in with the chatter and music echoing off the walls. 

Next to him, Johnny sat in his seat, buttoned top and jeans covered in dust and dirt. He hadn’t bothered to change into something somewhat clean, not that half of his clothes were clean. His own glass of scotch in hand, he was absently chatting away with Alejandro, the owner of the bar, who was cleaning glasses with a cloth.

The bar was full of bright lights, mostly shone towards the wide open area, where people gather to dance. Near the back, sat a mechanical bull. Simon’s seen his fair share of cowboys and cowgirls alike try to tame the mechanical beast.

It wasn't till the sound of drunken words coming from the far corner caught his attention. A beautiful cowgirl. One that even he thought was attractive.

Your hat was lop-sided, a grin plastered on your face from the alcohol, tank top and jeans that snugly hugged your figure. He couldn't quite understand the words coming from your mouth, from both the distance between you both and the effects of the alcohol. Johnny’s head swivelled around, his grin being replaced with an even bigger one as he took in your staggering form.

“Well, who would that wee lass be?” he questions, his eyes not leaving you.

Simon huffs and shakes his head, turning his attention back to his drink, watching the golden liquid swirl around his glass. “That’d be none of our business, Johnny”

He rolls his eyes at Simon’s dismissal, continuing to drink in your figure. 

You continued to saunter up to the bull, tipping your hat at multiple men, who whistled back at you. You make it to the bull, almost tripping up to the platform as you did so. Johnny’s eyes glistened with curiosity and intrigue, watching as your leg swung around the bull, thighs squeezing the sides of it and boots digging into the leather. One of the other men in the bars steps up the control panel, flicking a switch with a smirk on his face.

The bull roars to life, instantly throwing you forward, causing you to hold the sides of the beast even tighter, creating a tingly feeling in your legs. Your hand grips the long rope handle even tighter, knuckles turning white, while your other arm is up in the air above your head. The alcohol was making it almost useless to use your arm for balance. The bull continued to throw you back and forth with no mercy, the force lifting you from the seat a few times and almost throwing you over its head.

Cheers erupted over the bar, people lifting their drinks to the spectacle, including Johnny who whistled and whooped at you, his grin even wider as he enjoyed the way your body rocked with the bull. Such a graceful movement, hips rocking and your torso leaning back and forth, side to side as the bull threw you around. Even with the alcohol in your system, your body moved with such grace Johnny was almost drooling.

Simon tilted his head slightly to get a better look at you, then eyeing Johnny as he watched with hearts for eyes. He bumped his arm against his, causing an annoyed grunt to escape his lips. 

Alejandro chuckled as he watched the spectacle happen, placing the glass and cloth down and leaning against the counter. “Been a while since I’ve seen this happen” he muses.

Johnny was still watching, his eyes excessively focused on the way your hips moved, while Simon was practically ignoring you and the cheers around the bar.

“She’s probably just cocky ‘cause of the alcohol getting to ‘er head. She’ll come off any second now,” he scoffs, bringing his glass to his lips to drink the rest of the golden liquid that was left.

Alejandro turns his focus back to you. “I don’t believe so, amigo,” he replies, nodding his head in your direction. “This isn’t her first time, that’s for sure.”

Simon simply shakes his head, setting his glass down with a small clink against the wooden countertop. 

He’s seen this act before out of the many times he’s been to the bar. Drunken girls and cowboys, not once has he seen it end well. To him, drunken girls were trouble. Overconfidence and emotions flared up, a perfect mix for trouble. 

He fixed the bandana that wrapped around his face, making sure it was covering his mouth again and pulled his hat down over his eyes, not wanting to draw attention to himself, which earned an amused scoff from Johnny.

“Keep going like this Simon and you won't ever get ‘yerself a cute lass.”

“I don’t need one,” he replies gruffly, eyes focusing on the patterns of the wood in front of him.

More cheers erupt through the bar, men tipping their hats with smirks playing on their lips at you. The bull had come to a stop, dizzy and fatigued you slid off the side of the beast, one well dressed man even offering his hand to you. In your drunken and disoriented state you take it, thighs burning and crotch aching.

“Quite the show you put on there, eh cowgirl?” he purrs, his eyes dark and hooded, raking over your sweaty figure, not a damn in the world of what others would think about his actions.

You mumble a reply, wiping the sweat from your brow with the back of your hand. His smirk widens and he brings his own hand to your face, wiping a bead of sweat that rolled down your cheek.

“Hands off,” you mumble, swatting his hand away as you try to take shaky steps back down from the bull.

“Oh a feisty one I see?” he places a hand on your hip, making it easy for him to keep you rooted in place. “Why not join me for a dance, hm doll?”

“I don’t wanna’,” you shake your head, taking a step back. He quickly pulls you back, hands gripping onto your hips just a little harder.

“That’s a bit rude doll… rejecting a dance with a nice guy like me?”

Johnny, who was still watching narrowed his eyes as he observed your situation, the obvious discomfort on your face and your failed attempts to walk away. “Simon…” he mumbles, nudging his ribs and nodding in your direction.

He grunts a reply, turning his head towards you and his body immediately tensing. “We gonna’ go help?” Johnny questions, his eyebrows furrowed in worry and concern. 

Simon huffs and stands from the bar stool, back cracking slightly with a groan. He fixes his flannel up and makes his way over to where you were, not in any rush as his boots tapped lightly against the ground. He clears his throat as he stops next to the both of you, eyes flickering over the man.

“Well, who’s this?” the man muses, studying Simon for a moment before returning his attention to you. “Your man here to save the day or somethin’?”

You shake your head, gulping from the sheer size of Simon. He looked massive. Tall yet strong build, his flannel struggling to hold his biceps without the seams popping.

“Mate it’s obvious she don’t wanna be with ya, get your dirty hands off her” he warns, his voice gruff and laced with warning.

The man only raises a brow, scoffing at his tone and words. “What are you gonna do about it, big boy?”

His words make something in Simon snap, his hands coming up to grab the man's collar and pushing him back until he hits the far wall, a gasp escaping his lips, coming out more as a wheeze as the air left his lungs from the force. 

“The fuck?!” he gasps, before shrinking down as Simon raises his fist, his breath ragged as it hit his cheek, the warmth flushing over his face. 

Johnny was there in an instant, grabbing Simon and pulling him off. “Calm down! The fuck you think your doing?!”

Simon gives the man one last glare, watching as he stands back up and brushes his sleeves off before turning on his heel and stomping out of the bar. Alejandro just shakes his head, going back to cleaning the glasses. 

Johnny comes into your view, taking your chin in his fingers gingerly. “Lass… you alright? He didn't hurt ya did he?” his eyes were full of worry, looking over your face for any more signs of discomfort or hurt.

When you give him a weak shake of the head, he nods and carefully takes your hand in his. His hands were calloused and rough, and overly large compared to yours. “Cmon lass… yer rat arsed”

You tilt your head in confusion. He was obviously a Scotsman by his thick Scottish accent, but whatever slang he was babbling on about did not make sense what-so-ever in your mind. As he gently led you out of the bar, your gaze didn't leave him, studying him intently. A dirty button up tucked into worn down jeans, belt that looked to be falling apart, a once cream coloured cowboy hat sat snuggly on his head. He was a strong, almost stocky build, skin slightly tanned from work out in the harsh sun.

He was gentle as he pulled you out of the hot and sticky bar, into the cold and crisp air of the night. Simon was leaning against the truck, deep blue and covered in mud. His eyes narrow as he watches Johnny lead your stumbling form out of the bar.

“What are you doing bringing that girl out here? She’s hammered, it's not our responsibility.”

“We can’t leave ‘er there. They’ll take advantage of ‘er,” Johnny counters, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly.

“Alejandro can look after her. Go sit her at the bar with him, she’ll be right”

“He has enough on his plate dealing with other roasters!”

You groan as you start to feel saliva build up in your mouth, leaning heavily against Johnny. His arm subconsciously wraps around your waist, holding you tightly so you did not topple over. “Yer alright, lass?”

You shake your head, clutching your stomach as an uneasy feeling floods your body, causing your legs to almost give out. The world started to spin, causing you to throw an arm out trying to grab ahold of anything to keep you upright. 

Johnny’s hold on you tightens, trying to keep you from falling. Simon looks down at you, eyebrows raised. Johnny shoots him a look, silently telling him to get off his ass and help, which only gets an eye roll in return. Simon watches you stumble to the ground, hand covering your mouth as you heave. 

“Johnny, away from the truck! Ain’t no way she’s being sick over it” he barks, taking a step back and crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“Don't yer give a shit?” Johnny grumbles, his hand moving to your back to gently rub in soothing motions.

He screws his face up as you heave again, being sick over the gutter and a groan coming from Simon. “Yer alright lass… deep breaths… yer doing well.”

While both you and Johnny were too busy with your situation, a small pang of guilt hits his chest. You looked so small… struggling to keep anything down, the alcohol was doing a number on you.

He felt bad…

He shook the feeling away, rolling his shoulders back with a huff. Johnny wiped some of the spit rolling down your chin away with a tissue, helping you back up and fixing your hair. Simon watched, now displaying no emotion on his face.

“What are you doing with her now?” he asks, studying how you leaned into Johnny, trying to find any way to keep yourself upright.

“Gonna’ bring ‘er home with us”

His words hit him a little harder than they should have, he grunts to cover up the shocked gasp he almost let out. “That's kidnapping, Johnny.”

“For a good reason!”

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