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deansbeer · 27 days ago

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birthday boy ・ COWBOY!JENSEN ACKLES. ៸៸៸ 𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ! ♡ library

eighteen plus. minors do NOT interact.

୨୧ synopsis. jensen's birthday turned out perfect, but he wants more—stealing you away from the bonfire to claim you in the barn.

୨୧ word count. 1.1k

୨୧ kari notes. it felt necessary to do cowboy!jensen for the prettiest birthday boy ever !!!!!!! i miss him dearly and i know i've left him + the christmas series to collect dust (my bad 😔) i promise it was not intentional <3 i hope to get back to it someday and FINALLY wrap the series up. anyway! enjoy this somewhat of a revival of cowboy!jensen and happy birthday to jensen <3 my sugarplum pookie wookie princess butt 🤍 i love him so very much. 🥹

the fire crackles, casting a golden glow over the field, laughter ringing out as jensen's friends pass around beers and swap stories. the air smells like burning cedar and summer grass, the heat of the flames licking at the night breeze.

you've spent the entire day making sure his birthday is perfect.

his favorite breakfast in bed, a homemade cake, little surprises scattered throughout the day—things only you would know he'd love. but this? the bonfire, the laughter, the way his friends are all gathered around, celebrating him? this was the part he didn't expect.

and from the way he keeps looking at you—warm, lingering glances, like he can't decide if he wants to say thank you or take you apart—you know he appreciates every second of it.

he looks damn good tonight, too.

the sleeves of his tan flannel are rolled up to his elbows, the fabric unbuttoned revealing the white wife beater clinging to his chest. his old levi jeans sit low on his hips, worn in just right, and his brown cowboy boots are planted firm in the dirt, like he's the only thing keeping the earth steady.

but it's his eyes that get you the most. green, sharp, locked onto you every time you move. like he's waiting. like he's hungry.

so when he finally makes his move, it's not subtle.

a warm palm at the small of your back. a quiet, "come with me, sweetheart."

no one notices when he leads you away, his fingers curling around yours, guiding you past the parked trucks, past the wooden fences, into the barn where the scent of hay and leather lingers thick in the air. "been waitin' all damn night to get you alone," he mutters, voice low, gravelly, sending a shiver straight down your spine. "you spoil me too much, darlin'."

"only 'cause you deserve it," you tease, fingers tracing slow over his chest, feeling the heat of him through the fabric.

his lips twitch, eyes darkening. "yeah? think i deserve somethin' else too."

the way he says it—the weight behind those words—makes your stomach tighten, anticipation thrumming through your veins.

"yeah?" you murmur, letting your hands drift lower, teasing at his belt buckle. "what's that, cowboy?"

his breath hitches, just slightly. his hands flex at your waist.

"get on your knees, baby."

heat floods through you, pooling low in your belly, and you don't hesitate—not when he's looking at you like that.

the dirt is cool beneath your bare knees as you sink down, your hands sliding up his thighs, slow, deliberate.

you undo his belt, pop the button, drag the zipper down with aching precision, just to watch his breath stutter.

"teasin' me now?” he rasps, fingers threading into your hair, tilting your chin up.

"maybe."

but you don't tease for long.

you pull him free from his jeans, his cock already hard, thick and heavy in your palm.

"fuck, look at you, sweetheart," he mutters, thumb brushing over your cheek, voice rough. "prettiest damn thing i've ever seen."

you smirk, pressing a slow kiss to the tip, then licking a teasing stripe along the underside, feeling him twitch in your grasp.

"jesus," he mutters, his head falling back for just a second before his gaze snaps back down to you, dark and demanding. "c'mon, sweetheart. know you can take it."

so you do.

you take him into your mouth, slow at first, letting him feel every inch as your lips stretch around him, your tongue swirling just right.

his groan is deep, raw, his hips jerking slightly as his grip tightens in your hair.

"yeah, that's it, baby," he grits out, watching you, his chest rising and falling faster now. "too damn good f'me."

you hollow your cheeks, take him deeper, until he hits the back of your throat, your hands gripping his thighs for balance.

"love this mouth," he mutters, his voice thick with need. "gonna make me come if you keep that up."

you hum around him, the vibration making him curse under his breath, his hips stuttering forward.

but before he can get too close, he yanks you off him, his breathing ragged, his cock slick with your spit.

"as much as i'd love to finish like that," he says, voice uneven, "need to be inside you, darlin'."

before you can even respond, he hauls you up, spinning you around, pressing you up against one of the thick wooden beams.

his hands are everywhere—pushing up your dress, ripping your panties off, gripping your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as you wrap your legs around his waist.

"hold onto me," he orders, and you do, arms looping around his shoulders as he lines himself up, teasing you with the head of his cock, watching it drag through your slick folds.

"jensen—" you start, but the words die in your throat as he thrusts into you, stretching you open in one smooth, deep stroke.

"goddamn, baby," he groans, his forehead pressing against your shoulder for a moment, his breath hot against your skin.

"you feel so good."

you whimper, nails digging into his shoulders blades, your body already trembling from how deep he is, how perfectly he fills you.

"been watchin' ya' all night," he mutters, his voice rough as he picks up the pace, his grip on you tightening. "watching you in that little dress, smilin' at me like you knew exactly what you were doin'."

he drives into you harder, deeper, the friction sending sparks up your spine. the rough drag of his jeans against your thighs, the way his body presses firm against yours—it's too much, too good, setting your nerves on fire.

"wanted you to want me," you manage to whisper, and his responding growl sends a shiver straight through you.

"always want you," he rasps, his hands gripping tighter, his pace turning relentless, desperate, like he's making sure you feel it, like he's carving himself into you.

"fuck, baby, mm—"

his fingers slip between you, rubbing tight circles over your clit, the pleasure winding sharp and fast in your belly.

"do it f'me, sweetheart," he urges, his breath ragged, "wanna feel you—wanna feel you come all over me."

you shatter, your orgasm crashing over you, your walls clenching around him, making him curse, his rhythm stuttering.

"mmm, good girl," he groans, burying himself deep one last time before he follows, spilling inside you with a shaky moan, his body tensing before finally relaxing, both of you breathless, clinging to each other.

for a long moment, there's nothing but the sound of your heavy breathing, the distant sounds of the bonfire happening outside.

jensen chuckles, pressing a lazy kiss to your lips.

"best damn birthday ever, sweetheart."

៸៸៸ 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. @titsout4jackles @daylighted @bluemerakis @honeyryewhiskey @figthoughts @dollyfiles @starzify @ultravi0lence14 @soldiersgirl @sunsbaby @abox-of-rocks @whisperingdaze @eepwtf @chris444evr @deanswidow @voidsuites @jasvtsc @cowboysandcigarettes @beausling @stereotypicalbarbie @bejeweledinterludes @jensenacklesballsack @h8aaz @sunsbaby @jjmbbg @freeluigihesbae @suckitands33 @ultravioletrayz @unfortunate-brat @a-lil-pr1ncess @notsocoqquete1 @deerlysacred @benscumgluzzer @chevroletdean @deanangel @bluestrd @rubyvhs @ohsc @deansw1fe

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invincibledc · 5 months ago

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Wonderboy!reader helping Cowboy!Jon at the Kent farm, both are dressed like cowboys, Jon tries to warn the Amazon male about the horses. But reader doesn’t care, he knows what to do. Jon worries for the male who tries to wrestles a horse. Jon goes over to help only to have his jaw dropped. The Amazon boy lasso a rope he had around his belt, reader lasso’s the horse’s nuzzle shut and stands his ground. The horse is stubborn like a mule, trying to pull away, which was a mistake as the Amazon male is stronger. Reader smirks, a charming smirk that almost made jon’s knees buckle. The sun hits reader’s face at the right moment as well. With a swift move, reader is on top of the horse, guiding it to the stalls as Jon watches amused and flustered. The cowboy moves his cowboy hat down, covering his flustered face.

A/N: I listened to “ponyboy” while making this. 🤫

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rivers-oc · 1 year ago

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAN WINCHESTER I LOVE YOUUUU

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aethelwyneleigh27 · 10 months ago

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Cowboy!141 x Noble's Daughter!Reader (My Version of the AU)

(How you meet them)

Synopsis: Being the daughter of a noble is a jarring task as you must be always able to keep up appearances, so what exactly happens when your family hires 4 men? Men who seem dangerous yet you know nothing about, all happening to be part of the same group of people. What happens if they take an interest in you? Someone unattainable, forbidden yet also undoubtedly tempting..

Hi lovelies! Lia here again, apologies for the delay and inactivity, I had exams, projects and the recent release of part one of Bridgerton season 3. Speaking of the series, this was inspired by that and RDR2 (none of the elements are historically accurate, I think?), I genuinely hope this does well because this account has not been doing well as of late. With my mutuals leaving Tumblr and some friends are currently ignoring me, I genuinely don't know what to do anymore. From what I know, @ghouljams was the first one who created content in the cowboy!CoD AU but mine is a lot different? So please don't kill me 😭

This will result in headcanons for the next few posts because my brain is attached to this AU so you will be seeing more Cowboy!Outlaw!141.

(Really FEM!Reader, maybe also Plus-size!(Chubby??)Reader?? I don't even know anymore)

More content: My CoD Masterlist

Bless your noble mother's heart, although your was seen as this very respectable and intellectual man of nobility, your mother had this heart of gold having no idea that these rugged men he has newly hired were outlaws, criminals.. murderers?

Yet your father did, something about him felt sinister, well all noble money comes from not so noble cause.

Although your mother wanted you to get to know and be familiar with the newest staff members who would do all the gnarly, energy consuming and physically challenging tasks, she did not want her daughter interacting with men who would be considered improper like seemingly mysterious men who happened to be from a far town looking for a living.

Well without your father's or mother's knowledge, that rule was thrown out the window the moment you saw one of them carrying over some of the crates that contain given by some men to your father for his services and connections, particularly drawn to the one who never seemed to take off the cloth on his face.

Something about the way he stared at you, not seeing the rest of his face, depriving you of clues as to how he felt upon seeing the only lady of the house. You gave him a warm smile, for a moment you thought you saw his lips through the mask perk up, before walking off to the lounging hall for your tutoring on language.

It was odd, you observed them from afar a lot, your personal garden was your sanctuary and you can't help but do so when they talked so loudly, no sign of inside voices.

They called each other names.. Price, Gaz, Soap and Ghost. The man you encountered was named Ghost? Surely it's some alias. Well that wasn't something you should fixate on anyway so you leave for your tasks.

You find yourself feeling a little out of it after your lessons, hoping that a little stroll through the stables behind your family's estate would either help the information sink in or keep it shun out of your mind. Either way you'd find yourself in tranquil, you heard a thud behind you and turn to find so called "Ghost" behind you.

He had dropped a crate, one filled with weapons and uncharacteristically hastily picked up all of them without paying much attention. Such an action caused him to unknowingly cut his finger on one of the blades that fell out of it's sheath.

Your eyes filled with concern as you rush over to take his hand in yours before he tried to brush off the cut and get back to his duties. You knew it was dumb to be worried over something so small that the grown man doesn't even flinch and yet there you were, practically cradling his hand in yours.

A white handkerchief that was embroidered with your favorite flowers by your own mother, something you held dear and kept pristine.. using it on his finger to keep the blood from further gushing and wipe off whatever of the red residue was left on his hand.

As the blood stopped to your relief, you brought his finger and spontaneously pressed a feather-like kiss on the wound. You were so used to doing that for your little cousins, nieces and nephews that it was just a force of habit, your face flushed the very moment you looked up to meet his gaze, what possessed you to do that?

You placed the handkerchief in his hand and composed yourself, you told him to keep it and to bring the wound to the physician to get some antiseptics before running off to god knows where.

A few days after that incident, you meet another one of them except..

You couldn't help but rush, you were late for this supposedly short promenade your family has spontaneously planned. Your favourite gloves are no where to be found and with the three sisters you have, you checked room to room, seeing who might've borrowed the lacey white fabric with the sewn in bows.

Without looking your body slams into a wall, is it a wall? You softly groan, your delicate fingers brushing on your forehead that felt like it would bruise later on. Your eyes remained closed for a few seconds as the impact caused you to feel shaken, light headed.

You open your eyes to one of the outlaws, you blink up as your vision adjusted a bit, his dark skin against the light from the window really did something..

"Are you hurt, my lady?" He asked, his deep voice was smooth and rich, almost velvety. He held you up from falling.

"N-no.. Thank you, uhh..."

"Kyle, her ladyship can call me Kyle. Although I hope it's not too informal to your status, my lady." You smiled at his words, certainly a respectful fellow despite him and his group's reputation.

You felt warmth on your sides, his palms against the fabric that separates his skin on yours, he was only being kind for steadying you after you almost fell from the earlier impact but his touch felt addicting, too much as it continued to linger.

"Kyle, it is then" You said softly, suddenly a bit more aware of your surroundings.

Fuck. He was sure he felt something just by hearing the way his name fell from your lips. Normally he'd give people, employers only and only his last name. He was so used to having been called by "Garrick", he had no idea his name would sound different, so sweet coming from a pretty maiden's lips.

He stutters for a moment, realizing that his hands are touching a lady inappropriately, something only someone she's married to would have the privilege of doing. He swiftly removed his hands from your waist and formally excused himself from your presence with the excuse of his duties.

The next time you met one of them was through your mother's ball, she was always the first to throw one to bless the upcoming season of hopes that you, your sisters and brothers shall wed soon.

You had no taste for it after having a lord step on your feet at least 20 times and not even bother to apologize with how high of a pedestal he puts himself in, you found yourself escaping through the back of your estate to the gazebo in the center of your beloved garden.

You took your tight, restricting shoes off and felt the grass on your feet as you walked toward the gazebo, now close enough to see that you weren't alone but you still continued, your feet against the cooling marble platform. You sigh as you prop yourself to sit on the stone railing next to the stranger who was currently taking a puff of his cigar.

You turned your head away, you were thrown into a fit of coughs from the strong scent of the smoke while you swatch some of it away. You tried not to heave for actual air to breathe while the man next to you chuckles, making you feel irritable.

"M'sorry love.." his gruff voice whispers which make you turn towards him, the man offering you a comforting smile.

"Shouldn't you be in there with your family, miss?" Price asked. To which you hum, "I wanted some "fresh air" and silence" you answered. Moments of silence have passed, nothing but the sound of wind that rattled the trees a bit and each other's breaths.

You look towards the light of windows of your home, the ballroom filled with laughter and talk of celebration. You sighed, knowing you must return as your parents would come looking for you, also not wanting for them to punish you for sticking around unchaperoned with their new hires.

He knew you were about to leave, it would be rude for a gentleman to leave a lady without help, hmm? He wasn't a gentleman though, an outlaw, one of the worst titles one can ever bestow a man. He was considered to be of low honor but who cares?

He kneels down on one knee in front of you, gently taking your leg in his huge hand using his thigh as leverage so he can gently slip on you shoes. For a moment you felt his forehead on your knee before he pulls away and offers you his hand..

You took it hesitantly as he helped you off the railing, you look up at him meeting his eyes. Something about them burned, making your stomach churn but not in a manner of discomfort.

You watched his back as he walked away, his footsteps on the cold marble the only thing to be heard as the noise died down..

The morning after, you've barely had enough sleep, was it the events of the previous night? Nevermind, at least you had a day or two for yourself after conducting a proposition to your parents. Free time was worth it for the sore feet you had to endure.

Not really in the mood to change into anything tight or itchy, you remain in your night clothes. Finally, some well deserved time alone, comfortable and flipping pages of a book was your type of thing.

Sure, socializing has it's benefits however nothing beats your time alone or so you thought you were alone..

A table and a few chairs were set up by the servants to your request at the gazebo, giving you the perfect view of the greenery that you have planted the seeds of.

You had your head comfortably leaned onto lounge as you continued reading. Buts something was just so distracting, a few minutes of the constant snipping and twigs breaking, you look up wanting to see who was there tending to the garden.

Your eyes widened a bit, it was improper for a lady to stare a man who has very less clothing. Nothing but his jeans, belt and hat keeping his face shielded from the heat is toned, muscular and tanned torso and arms exposed.

A little later, you hear a grunt coming from the man, Soap was it? You can't quite remember much from the night you eavesdropped on them. You heard his footsteps on the grass nearing the gazebo but you didn't bother to look up, not until..

"Ma'am? May I stay 'ere a moment? Afraid the heat is getting to me" You look up from your book and sit up to see the same man breathless. You nodded and watched as he sat on the stairs, hands on his knees as he caught his breath.

"Excuse me.." You said, loud enough to hear and catch his attention, he looks back from his position. You moved one of the chairs to face your lounge, "Please invite yourself here, I can only think of how uncomfortable the floor might be, especially when you are working at a weather like this one" Signaling him to take a seat on the chair you adjusted.

He gets up yet reluctantly makes himself comfortable on the seat, you pick a drinking glass on display from the silver tray and poured some of the cold lemonade into it, you place it down on the table and slide it to him, offering a warm smile. Your fingers on the base of the drinking glass slightly brushing against his as he takes it.

He thanks you for it and you both enjoyed the tranquil and peace.. yet you can't go back to your book, asking questions and being further interested by the man each minute passes.

The way he talked was something else, it was alluring, comforting and oddly lively, he's told you about his "past" and how he used to be a child.

"Was quite the troublemaker you see, though my family was poor and food was scarce, I found a way to feed the street animals I adore—"

You look at him, so invested on what he was about to say next, it was refreshing to have someone to converse with who isn't interrogating you and practically forcing their ideals of how many babies they want you to birth for them, practically wanting you to die for them.

"I used to steal bread from my neighbor, not a very nice man, selfish really. So I'd often sneak into his shack, leftovers, scraps and anything light enough for me to carry. I'd bring it to Lassie, my favorite stray dog. You remind me a lot of her Bonnie" He said.

"I remind you of a dog?" You weren't so sure if that's a compliment, then again he just called you "Bonnie", what exactly does that mean?

"Home, you remind me of home. Can't say I have felt this comfortable in years, friends and I are usually reserved yet you bring this side out of me, Bonnie. So what spell or witchcraft did you use?" He joked raising a brow at you, for a moment his attention falters as he looks down at the soft mounds of skin exposed on your chest.

"Eyes up here, Johnny."

You warned as you laugh at his question, you notice one of the servants coming out from the estate and into the garden, Johnny smiles and tips his hat to you to excuse himself so that he could get back to work.

Well this is interesting.. isn't it?

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @snowdjinnofpalestine @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @iexiam @drewsmusee @konigceo

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inlovewithpandora · 1 month ago

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₊˚⊹♡ — Love Letter #1: UNDER THE STARS

Fearturing — Cowboy!Miguel x Farmer’s!daughter!reader

Lyrics — After discovering you’ve never had a “real” Valentine’s Day Miguel makes it his mission to make the day special for you. When you see the thoughtful setup he’s planned and how much effort he put in, you thank him in a way he wasn’t expecting.

Duration —3.8-4.0k

Music Advisory — Fluff, Smut [mature audiences only], country!au, takes place on Valentine’s Day, implied situationship, kissing, oral (blowjob/handjob) [m!receiving], implied p in v, allusions to sex, slight face-fucking, semi-public sex, implied exhibition kink [if you squint]

Words From Artist — This is my first fic for my Valentine’s Day event and I’m so glad I’m finally posting it because it took me a while to finish. I’m working on other fics for this dynamic but I really wanted to make something for the season of love. Always feel free to comment and reblog, I love reading y’all reactions! I hope you enjoy!!

₊˚⊹♡ — If you would like to read more of the Cowboy!Miguel and Farmer’s!daughter!reader click here!

Current Platforms — Valentines Day Event M.list • Main M.list • Special Events Taglist

The sun has just dipped below the horizon, leaving a constellation of stars hanging above the wide, open sky. The night is quiet except for the sound of cicadas in the distance and the soft rustling of the wind through the trees. It’s the kind of peaceful evening that makes everything feel right with the world.

But somehow tonight feels different. You can feel the shift in the atmosphere, a knot tying in your stomach, a tinge of unplaced excitement, and a strange feeling you can’t shake. Maybe the reason is because it’s Valentine’s Day and love is in the air, or maybe it’s the way your thoughts have been lingering on Miguel all week.

Miguel isn’t one for holidays, at least not the popular ones that everyone adores. Flowers, chocolates, fancy dinners, all those things never really mattered to him since he’s considers himself a simple man. But when you told him that you’ve never really had a proper Valentine’s Day, the kind with the romantic gestures and filled with the classic clichés, his heart ached. To him you deserve that, you deserve all the sweetness in the world even though he’s not great with grand gestures or romantic words, so once he’s done working around the farm he starts planning a simple yet special night for the two of you.

He spent the last few hours preparing, scouting out the perfect spot on the acres of land and after searching he found a hill just far enough from the ranch. The place was perfect, the stars would be bright, the cool air would breeze through, and it’s in a secluded area so you both can have your privacy. It’s not much, but it’s his way of showing you that you mean something to him.

Now, with his horse saddled and ready, Miguel is making his way to you. The rhythm of the horse’s steps matches the pounding of his heart as he thinks about how he’s going to approach you and what he’s going to say. He’s never been the type of man that gets nervous but when it comes to you and romantic situations like this everything feels different.

As he reaches your house, he finds you outside, sitting on the porch steps while your attention is focused on your phone, your face illuminated by the soft glow of the porch light that’s shining above you. When you hear the sounds of a horse trotting you look up, surprised to see him since you thought he already went home for the day. “Miguel?” you ask, raising an eyebrow while standing up and placing your phone in your pocket. “What are you doing here?”

He smirks, trying to keep his cool, but there’s an edge of nervousness in his voice that he can’t hide from you and you most definitely take notice of it. “C’mon, cariño. Got somethin’ to show you.”

“What is it?”

Miguel extends his hand to you, giving you a small smile. “You’ll see,” he says, trying to sound casual even though his heart feels like it’s about to beat out your chest. “Get on.” he gestures his head to the horse, wanting you to ride with him instead of taking your own horse like when you two usually go out together.

You instantly agree and allow him to whisk you away, grabbing his hand and swinging yourself onto the horse before wrapping your arms around his torso. The night air feels cool against your skin, and the rhythmic sound of the horse’s hooves hitting the dirt path fills the silence between you and Miguel and allows your rampant thoughts to roam your mind, wondering where Miguel could be taking you.

After almost twenty minutes of making small talk and sitting in a comfortable silence when neither of you could find the words to say, you finally make it to your destination. Miguel stops the horse, swinging his leg over and allowing his feet to hit the ground. “We’re here.” He helps you down, his hands firm on your waist as he slowly lowers you to your feet.

The warmth of his touch lingers even after he pulls away, and you can’t help but smile as he takes your hand, leading you toward whatever surprise he’s prepared. Within a few seconds you start seeing items spread out on the ground and once you're able to get a closer look at what Miguel set up, causing a soft gasp to leave your lips.

You see a large quilt covering the ground to act as a place for you and Miguel to sit, there’s a basket filled with your favorite snacks and drinks, including some moonshine that you enjoyed the last time you and him went to a dive bar. He knows how much you liked the sweet burn of it, the way it made you giggle and feel carefree, so he made sure to bring some for you both to enjoy, and so he could tease you once you start feeling the effects.

There’s a small lantern placed nearby that he brought from the barn, providing ample amounts of light to shine around you two so you can see since it’s dark in the countryside. But what makes your heart flutter is the bouquet of flowers resting beside the basket, the same ones you pointed out to him a few days ago when you were in the city and told him it was a beautiful arrangement.

You walk over to the quilt, running your hand over the soft material, your voice soft with appreciation as you soak in the scenery. “Miguel, this is beautiful.” You weren’t expecting anything tonight, especially not from him. You had convinced yourself that Valentine’s Day wasn’t something you needed to care about, that it wasn’t worth the trouble when you and Miguel weren’t even official yet.

You two have been dancing around whatever this was for months so neither of you had put a name to it but now, standing here, looking at everything he’s put together just for you, makes a warmth fill your chest.

“You said you never had a real Valentine’s Day, so… I figured I could make it happen.” As Miguel speaks he shifts his weight while crossing his arms, sort of downplaying the effort he put in. It’s something about the way he says it, like it’s just a simple fact, like he hadn’t spent hours preparing and planning, like he hadn’t gone out of his way to gather all your favorite things and create the perfect atmosphere.

When you hear the nervousness in his voice, and notice how he’s trying his best to keep a steady tone, it makes you realize that this is his way of saying he cares. Miguel is a very calculated man, he has his own way of dealing with his feelings, confronting situations, and sometimes he has his walls up so seeing him do something sweet like this makes you feel special.

You turn to face him, and the look in your eyes softens. You smile at him, the same smile that makes his heart skip and his stomach twist in ways he still isn’t used to because it shows how deep his feelings are for you. Without saying a word, you close the space between you, reaching up and placing your hand on his face and pulling him down to your height.

He stiffens for a second, his breath hitching while his eyes flicker between your eyes and lips, and then you press a soft kiss to his lips. It’s not rushed or desperate. The kiss is slow, lingering, like you’re savoring the moment, like you want to physically show him how much this display of affection means to you. Miguel instantly melts into it and your bodies come together, his rough hands wrapping around your waist, pulling you in so he can feel the warmth of your body against his.

When you pull away, your fingers trace absentmindedly along his jaw, loving how he makes you feel and that he’s slowly seeping into your heart. “You’ve made this the best Valentine’s Day I’ve ever had.” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his torso and pulling him into a hug, wanting him to know how much you appreciate the effort to make today special for you. “Thank you, Mig.”

Miguel exhales a breath he didn't even realize he was holding, his arms instinctively tightening around you as he buries his face into your hair. Your warmth, your scent, the way you just fit perfectly against him, it all makes his chest tighten in a way he doesn't quite know how to handle. He never thought much about Valentine's Day before, never cared for it or celebrated, but standing here, holding you, feeling your love radiating off of you, he realizes that maybe it's not about the holiday itself. Maybe it's about who you spend it with.

"You don't gotta thank me, cariño." he murmurs, voice low and husky as his lips brush against the shell of your ear, making your body instantly quiver. "Just wanted to do somethin' nice for you."

You smile against his chest, your fingers slipping beneath the hem of his shirt, tracing lightly over his warm skin. "Well, I still think you deserve a thank you." Miguel looked so sexy tonight, he’s wearing a worn denim shirt with his sleeves rolled up which shows his muscles, a pair of dark jeans, his favorite cowboy boots, and of course his signature cowboy hat. With how attractive he looks and all the feelings that are coursing through your veins you want to express your appreciation to him in a physical sense.

Miguel pulls back just enough to look at you, raising an eyebrow at the teasing glint that’s shimmering in your eyes. He doesn't miss the way your fingers linger against his stomach, nails lightly scratching against his abs, a gentle touch that’s creating a slow heat to emerge in his groin. "That so?" He’s surprised that this is what you meant by ‘thanking him’ but he doesn’t mind one bit, he loves seeing you on your knees for him so he knows he’s about to enjoy what comes next.

"Mhm." You tilt your head up at him, your voice gentle yet playful as you lead him towards where the quilt lies on the ground. "And I think I know exactly how to show you just how much I appreciate all this..." Once he’s where you want him your hands move to his jeans, unbuckling his leather belt and unzipping his pants, a small smirk spreading across your lips when you see the outline of his hardened cock that’s ready to be released.

When your hands slip inside his pants, pulling his boxers down just enough for his heavy cock to spring free, sends a shiver through him from both your touch and the cool breeze flowing by. Miguel’s eyes are solely focused on you, watching you get on your knees and toss your hair over one shoulder, before spitting on his cock, using your palm and spreading it on his shaft and slowly stroking his length. For him, you have to use both hands. Since his cock is so large and thick you need both to make sure there’s full coverage and no part of him is neglected.

“Fuck, cariño.” He mutters, his hands resting on the back of his head to keep them occupied, feeling his cock pulse as you strategically maneuver your hands on his shaft. He loves when you give him head, there’s something special about the way you tend to him, it’s delicate, thrilling, and sensual. No other woman can make his body react the way you do and that alone makes him want to spray you his seed down your pretty little throat.

“You want me to suck it, cowboy?” It sounds like a rhetorical question but you’re truly looking for an answer despite you already knowing the answer by his body language. You love a vocal man and that’s definitely Miguel, plus you know that he loves hearing your cute country accent and you want to do anything that’ll drive him closer to his peak.

“You know I do, querida.” And with that you switch techniques. You give his tip a light kiss, allowing your saliva to pool in your mouth before sticking out your tongue and allowing it to drip onto his tip, making his cock nice and slippery so you can give him the sloppiest blowjob possible, just the way Miguel likes.

The kisses and little kitten licks feel incredible, he enjoys the satisfaction it brings his body when he feels you drag your tongue up and down the underside of his dick, how the tip of it glazes over his prominent veins and makes him shudder but he absolutely hates the teasing. Usually he’s a patient man, allowing you to move at a comfortable pace but tonight he doesn’t want to wait. “Come on, baby. Don’t tease me.”

“Fine, but only because you’re cute.” You reply with a soft giggle, obeying his wishes and placing your plump lips over the tip of Miguel’s pretty cock, allowing your tongue to run over his slit, causing his mouth to fly open from the unexpected sensation. Things started off nice and slow in the beginning with slow strokes with your hand around the base of his cock, dragging the flat of your tongue around his tip, and gently caressing his balls to make things a little more spicy.

Soon things escalate quickly, Miguel’s hips jerk and he throws his head back with a groan when you hollow out your cheeks, taking a few more inches of him in your mouth and allowing your hand to cover the area you couldn’t reach. It’s so hard for the cowboy not to just shove your head against his pelvis and force all of him down your throat, so instead he starts to lightly thrust, causing you to gag around his length and the warmth of your mouth to engulf him.

As you hold onto Miguel’s meaty thighs to help you keep your balance, you can feel them trembling, one of the few signs that he’s about to bust. To match the rhythms of his lazy thrusts you bob your head up and down, licking the pre-cum that leaks from his tip and allowing it to settle on your tongue, enjoying the salty taste of him on your palate. The wet noises that you’re making are going straight to his dick and seeing the small spit bubbles that are forming in the corners of your mouth, makes it twitch between your lips.

You look up at Miguel through your lashes, you’re pretty hypnotizing, eyes locking with his dark one’s, wanting to see every face he makes when he cums. By looking at him you can tell he’s holding back for reasons you don’t understand. Miguel always sees you as a delicate flower that should be cherished which you adore but you can tell he wants things a little rougher and frankly you’re not mad at it, you would actually love for him to get rough with you.

When you notice him lowering one of his arms to lightly pull up his shirt so it doesn’t get in the way of your performance, you take his hand and place it on the back of your head, silently granting him access to fuck your throat. Once Miguel feels his palm against your hair it unlocks something inside him. His hand tangles in your hair, pressing your head downward, causing his tip to repeatedly press against the back of your throat.

“That’s it, cariño… just—fuck, like that.” He groans with a strained voice, not being able to hold himself back anymore. Miguel loves this feeling, especially when your throat opens up for him to go deeper and the vibrations from your cheeks are getting stronger the more he pushes your head towards him. Once he pushes you to your limit, taking one hard thrust and causing your nose to press against his pelvis, you moan loudly around his cock and your nails to slightly dig into his skin trying to brace yourself from the unexpected movement.

"Shit, baby... 'bout to-" Miguel warns, his stomach clenching as his high creeps up on him fast. You don't let up, doubling down, wanting to see him fall apart completely. The cowboy shudders, his grip on your hair tightening, his cock pulsing in your mouth while spewing lines of his thick seed down your throat, making a series of moans, praises, and a few curses in his native tongue fall from his lips.

You can’t really understand what he’s saying, due to you not knowing a lick of Spanish but by the way his mouth hangs open and his brows knit together you can tell he’s enjoying himself. Once he comes down from his high and he feels you swallow the remaining ounces of his seed, he slowly pulls away from your wet and swollen lips that are coated in his juices.

Miguel doesn’t even give you a chance to clean yourself up before he wraps his hands around your waist, picking you up and walking further towards the middle of the quilt before gently laying you down, placing his hand on your back and lowering you onto the soft fabric, his broad muscular physique hovering over your smaller frame.

His eyes, dark and heavy with lingering desire, trace over your face, memorizing every flushed detail in your features. His fingers graze your cheek before trailing down your jaw, his thumb brushing over your swollen lips, a silent reminder of what just transpired.

Miguel exhales deeply, his breath warm as he begins to press a firm kiss on your neck, another on your collarbone, and then one right above your cleavage. His movements are slow and deliberate, savoring each reaction he draws from you. His hands, strong and calloused, explore the curves of your body, fingertips ghosting over your ribs, your waist, before settling at your hips, making his way to the waistband of your shorts so he can take them off.

His fingers hook onto the fabric, tugging the material lightly, giving you a moment to stop him but you don't. Your breath catches as he peels the shorts down your legs and tosses them to the side, his touch igniting a trail of heat down your abdomen that goes straight to your core. When you feel his fingers tug at your panties, about to pull them down and reveal your pussy, you grab his hand, feeling a little nervous for a second.

“Mig, what if someone comes out here and sees us?” Your voice comes out in a hushed whisper, laced with both nervousness and excitement. The thought of being caught by anyone in your town is mortifying, especially since gossip spreads like a wildfire around here but you and him already went halfway when you sucked his dick so you don’t understand why your nerves are eating you up now.

Miguel chuckles softly, the sound low and smug as he leans in, his lips brushing gently against your jaw. "Now you're worried, querida?" he murmurs, his voice dripping with amusement, thinking it’s funny that you’re now worried about peeping Tom’s after you just finished deepthroating and slobbing all over his dick with no hesitation.

Your stomach twists, a mixture of nerves and exhilaration bubbling inside you. The logical part of your mind knows this is reckless, dangerous even, but the way Miguel looks at you a unrelenting hunger, like he wants to devour you until tears are rolling down your face, makes it hard to care about the consequences. You've already crossed the line, let yourself be consumed by him, and the thrill of it all is just as intoxicating as the man himself.

His lips trail down your neck, peppering kisses that make your breath hitch, making your nerves slowly disappear. "You weren't shy a few minutes ago," he teases, his fingers skimming over your exposed skin, tracing slow, deliberate patterns. "I think you like the risk."

And maybe he’s right, maybe you do like the thrill it brings. Maybe that's why you don't push him away, why your fingers tangle in his hair instead, pulling him closer to your body. "Plus no one's gonna come out here but even if they did.." His voice deepens slightly, his lips ghosting over yours in a mesmerizing manner. "Let them see how good I make you feel."

Heat pools between your thighs at his words, but you still bite your lip, unsure of what to do which Miguel notices, always being attentive when it comes to you. "If you don't want this, just say the word," he adds, his voice softer now, wanting to make sure you’re comfortable before he takes things further. "'I’ll stop."

His sincerity, how he cares about how you feel and won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do makes your heart flutter. You trust him, more than anyone you’ve ever been with and right now, with the stars above you, the warmth of his body pressed against yours, and his heavy cock resting on your stomach, makes the thrill of the moment outweigh the risk of being seen.

Swallowing your nerves, you slowly loosen your grip on his wrist, allowing his fingers to slide past the waistband of your panties. Miguel watches you carefully, searching your face for any hint of hesitation. When he doesn’t detect any, his smirk returns. "That's my girl," he whispers before pressing his lips against yours, his fingers finally pulling them down and allowing him to feel your wet pussy, your juices smeared across your folds, practically begging to be licked.

Miguel groans at the sight, his pupils blown when your alluring scent fills his nostrils as he takes in every inch of you. His large hands slide up your thighs, spreading them apart with a firm but gentle touch. The cool night air brushes against your exposed skin, sending a shiver down your spine, but it's nothing compared to the heat radiating from Miguel's body as he settles between your legs.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his fingers tracing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh before he finally touches you where you need him most, drawing a gasp from your lips. He watches your reaction closely, reveling in every small sound and movement you make, as if he’s memorized by them.

The thrill of the moment, being out in the open, of surrendering completely to him and allowing him to be in control, slowly overwhelms you. Your body arches instinctively, pressing into his touch, silently begging for more, wanting his cock to reach the depths of your womb until you're filled with his seed. Miguel leans down and captures your lips in another yet kiss, swallowing every whimper and moan he pulls from you.

Miguel’s lips pull away from yours, but his touch remains, tender and firm. His thumb gently strokes your cheek as he looks at you with a softness that contrasts the intensity of his earlier actions. You both share a quiet moment, basking in the warmth of each other’s presence before taking things to the next level.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, cariño.” he whispers, his voice low and affectionate, wanting you to know that he cares and has a place in his heart reserved just for you.

You smile, feeling warmth spread through your chest at the simple yet heartfelt words, looking at him with pure love in your eyes. There's something in the way Miguel looks at you that makes everything feel perfect, and you can't help but feel a sense of love for him. "Happy Valentine's Day, Miguel." you whisper, your voice full of affection. It's simple, but at this moment, it means everything.

His smile deepens, and you realize this is exactly where you're meant to be, together, sharing something real and special. No expectations, just the two of you, and for once, everything feels right.

Fanbase — @Yoitsseulgi @migueloharasoulmate @novaaahearts @d0ubl-tr0ubl3 @tater-tot0423 @theitgurl2 @miguelsesposa @maxlynn17 @iwanttogohomeandtakeanap @kxllanxtdoor @ban-al3x @miguellover6969 @beargracecanbeanyone @taylormarieee @h3art-l3ss @mellagzz @em-x0 @3zae-zae3 @onlyloaksgf @popeheywardssecretgf @solanawrld @baizzhu @soilmayo @savagemickey03 @honey-bee2002 @str4wb4ries @kodellyy @hellokittyontop @sin4tra @mrs-pondwater19 @simp2537 @kissestothesuun @ilovegodfr @bala-bala3 @postcardgirl425 @regan18 @aistelloom @syd-bii @wildflowerkive @angel-of-the-moons

#₊˚⊹♡ — Sealed With A Kiss: Valentine’s Day Event #ʚଓ — farmer’s!daughter!reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel smut #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara x black!reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel spiderverse #country!au #cowboy!miguel #cowboy!au #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara fluff #atsv smut #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara #miguel x you

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maddie0101 · 2 months ago

Text

𐚁 Rodeo Nights (series masterlist)

Paring: dean winchester x fem!reader

Summary: y/n singer and dean winchester share a lifelong friendship in the world of rodeo, where danger and passion constantly collide. y/n, a skilled barrel racer, and dean, a cocky bull rider, have always been there for each other. but as they finally confront the feelings they’ve kept hidden for years, their relationship begins to shift. a series of events tests their bond and forces them to navigate the turbulence of their changing dynamic. will they survive the storm or ride through it together, emerging stronger than ever?

Warnings: soulmates au!, eventual smut, slow burn!!, cursing, best friends to lovers, injuries, jealousy, bull rider!dean, barrel racer!reader, eventual fluff, drinking, reader and dean are both in their 20s, soulmates trope, more tags to come but these are the basics!

total wc: 34.7k

𐚁 chapter one: unspoken feelings

𐚁 chapter two: lines we don’t cross

𐚁 chapter three: signs we can’t ignore

𐚁 chapter four: ripples between us

𐚁 chapter five: when ghosts come back

𐚁 chapter six: echoes of the unsaid

𐚁 chapter seven: hints of something more

𐚁 chapter eight: lines we can’t uncross

𐚁 chapter nine: giving into you ❤︎ smut

𐚁 chapter ten: in the quiet of forever

this series contains smut. I put a warning for the chapter but I am not responsible for your reading consumption.

minors do not interact with the chapter that contains smut. you can read up until that chapter but please avoid smut if you aren’t eighteen or older. thx <3

#dean winchester #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #deanwinchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x fem!reader #au dean winchester #cowboy!au #cowboy!dean #jensen ackles #supernatural #spn fanfic #spn dean #dean winchester smut #dean x you #dean x reader #rodeo nights series

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monarchberrysblog · 10 months ago

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Alright

*clasps hand*

I love you so very much, and I’ll be watching you from your window. (Inside joke)

How about… cowboy!Miggy spectating a gal and her pals, she’s challenged to ride one of those rodeo bulls by her friends and fell like, three seconds in. Obvi she failed, so she has to go get another round of shots for her friends. So he took the opportunity to offer some lessons with the cowboy himself😇

EL TORO 🐂

✭ 18+ Cowboy! Miguel O’Hara x fem! Reader ✭

✭ summary: losing a bet with your best friends, you buy drinks after failing to stay on a mechanical bull for eight seconds, but before you buy another round of drinks, a local cowboy helps you…

✭ content warning: sexual innuendos, Miguel is a little unhinged, dry humping, grinding, cumplay (?), cum-eating (?), semi-exhibitionism, hook-up with a stranger, and alcohol is mentioned. VIEWER'S DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

✭ word count: +1.8k words

✭ a/n: AUGHHHH cowboy! Miguel has me in a chokehold omfg. but here you go, pookie! thank you for your undying support and love! Your wish has been granted 💋 (if there are flaws, I apologize in advance 🩷)

MATURE CONTENT MDNI | MINORS WHO INTERACT WILL BE BLOCKED

Orange opaque lights make up the dimly lit bar. Locals from around were either at a table, drinking away from those green beer bottles you grew familiar with ever since you were younger, or seeing your uncles consume those bottles at a baptism or a wedding banquet. Or you saw the occasional burnt middle-aged man sitting at the island counter, rambling to the bartender about his day, complaining about his cattle or the weather. But for you, you came to the bar unwillingly, as your best friends insisted that you liven up the environment.

But really, it was a pathetic excuse to get you out of your grandparent's bungalow home and to meet someone.

・º♢

"Come on! It'll be fun!" Xina urges, flashing her signature smug smile that always appears when she's up to something mischievous. It was always the same arrogant look she did whenever y'all were kids when she got extra chips or a cookie from her pantry closet. Hell, it was the same look your other friends gave you whenever your grandmother or grandfather offered them fresh fruits from their farm.

"No," you quickly retort, sipping your cocktail. "Please!" MJ pleads, grasping your wrists and seemingly ready to kneel. "PLEASE!" Xina soon exclaims, joining MJ to cause a scene with those around you.

"Xina, MJ…!"

"PLEASE!" They draw out the last syllable together, their voice taking on a childish tone reminiscent of when they were eight years old, fleeing from a honey bee or spider. "Okay! Okay..." You groan out, shaking your head in defeat.

"Yes!" Xina pumps her fist in victory before removing your fruity margarita from your hands and placing it on the table. "Now get on! And if you don't last eight seconds, you pay for our next round of drinks!" A low groan emerges from the back of your throat like alcohol stinging your esophagus, ready to escape. But your body, unfortunately, didn't want to do that for you so you could weasel out of the bet. You look back to see MJ at y'all's table, keeping an eye on the drinks while looking at Xina guide (dragging) you across the bar.

Your shoes squeak against the wooden floors as you get pushed to the mechanical bull area. "Just stay on there for eight seconds, and you don't have to pay for our round of shots." You and Xina passed through the semi-packed bar, occasionally brushing shoulders from a couple of guests in the bar. But one character caught your attention, nearly knocking you off your feet.

His russet brown eyes burned into your soul while his cowboy hat shielded the glisten in his eyes, giving him a dead look by any bystander who dared to make eye contact with him. His eyes match yours, lingering on your orbs. The prolonged millisecond of eye contact seized when he smirked, his eyes lingering on you and you only.

His hands, weathered and rugged, bore the marks of hard work - dry, with occasional scars and scratches, yet exuding strength. They were the hands of a hard-working man, capturing attention as much as his eyes did, capturing attention as much as his eyes did. His shirt was unbuttoned, clearly showing a bit of his chest and hair peppered. Oh, how it would feel to be held in those strong hands... Or how his hands would hold onto your hips while bouncing on his dick—

"C'mon! It's your turn to get on!" Xina urges, directing your attention away from the man and to your inevitable end of the night- falling off a mechanical bull within three seconds.

You sit at your table, hair somewhat touseled about while you order the next round of drinks for you and your rowdy group of friends. You looked at the half-assed served shot glass and glared at your best friends as they took their shots. With a sigh of defeat, you walk to the bar counter and take a seat on the wooden stool, covering your face and hiding away the embarrassment.

You settled onto the bar counter, absently running your finger along the smooth rim of your shot glass. A sense of intrusion picked at your gut as you felt someone trespassing on your personal space. Glancing to your left, you saw the familiar figure of the man from earlier, seated a few stools away. Your eyes dart back to the tiny glass in your hands, playing with it.

"You couldn't last eight seconds."

That sounded more evocative than it had to.

"Excuse me?"

"3.4 seconds." He adds, not acknowledging the rhetorical question you spat out. "You're those women having to give up straddling like how a car needs an oil change."

What the—

"What does this have to do with anything?"

"You lack balance, sweetheart. And movement." He lifts his shot glass, calling the bartender to refill his shot glass. "It’s straightforward."

"Oh yeah, since you seem to know everything about it, give me some constructive criticism then." You reiterate, knowing that this man was going to play the smartass card with you by sharing information that is useless or already known by the public.

"You’re not engaging your core, and you don't have any balance on your hips." He sighs before mumbling about city folk and getting off his seat. "C’mere." He waved his hand over, ushering you to get close. You didn't know if it was your being an actual dumbass, but you got off your seat and made your way over.

"M’kay," He sighs before getting off his seat and touching your hips. “It's all here, sweetheart. You have to move with the bull; it's called inertia," His hand rests on your hips and squeezes that specific area. "Always move in the opposite direction of the mechanical bull."

"If the bull moves forward, you move back. And if the bull moves back…?"

"I move forward?"

He nods before patting your tummy. "And engage your core a bit. You have abs under there, sweetheart."

His words of advice continue but they muffled out while taking note of his hand resting against your soft stomach, feeling the heat of his palm.

You take note of his words and stop. "Wait, how do you know how to do this?"

"Take it or leave it." He mumbles before he takes his shot and slams the shot glass down. "Actually," He clears his throat and sighs. "Tell them you want to redeem yourself, then tell your friend, the one who dared you to ride the bull, to buy the bill, and I owe you a drink if you make it past eight seconds."

"And if you don't, you owe me a drink."

He removes his hands from your soft stomach and sits back on the stool. "It’s your decision, sweetheart."

You think momentarily, considering the options he placed on the table. The idea of not having to pay a tab and getting a free drink sounded satisfying.

"Will you show me how?"

"Sure, why not?"

Sitting on his lap in the darkest, dingiest parts of the bar was not in the plans, but your pigheadedness said otherwise. You straddle down on his lap, resting your hands on his shoulders. "Keep your balance, sweetheart." His right hand pats on your hip before bucking his hips against yours, earning a low groan from him.

"Engage your core and move in the opposite direction of me." His warm breath fans your face before he bucks his hips once again to your clothed sex. A soft mewl escapes your lips, feeling his clothed bulge against your clothed entrance.

"You can do it, c’mon…”

You pathetically moved against his aching bulge, pushing your moist gusset against his denim jeans. "There we go, move your hips to gain balance, move with me."

His dick twitched underneath you, pushing up to be free from its constraints. You slowly gyrated down, bucking your hips against his movement, creating a comfortable tempo.

A choked groan verberates your chest, sending the sensation to Miguel, earning a low moan from the man. "C'mon, keep it up." He jerks his bulge upwards, finally finding its way in between your clothed folds. You wailed, feeling his length now against your clothed clit, rubbing against the sensitive bud slowly and deliciously. You could sense the arousal trickling down to your soaked gusset and gathering the slick arousal in the cloth. "You can do it."

You patted his shoulder and took in deep breaths.

"Try again." His usual staid words slowly evolved into breathy whimpers. Miguel's words of affirmation slowly died, becoming breathy moans and grunts. The typical demands slowly turned into begging as you continued to push downwards, feeding the desires you two desperately wanted.

"Muneca..." He rasps out before you see his hands scramble down to his belt.

The sound of his belt clinking was enough of an indicator, but you knew what was next. The sound, let alone left you salivating with anticipation.

"Grind on the length."

Oh... Oh.

Glancing down, your eyes widen at the sight. Sure, he was pushing seven inches but the girth... With your left hand, you move the gusset of your underwear to the side and slowly guide your aching core down to his length, slowly enveloping his length into your soaked folds.

A low groan verberates your chest cavity, soaking the length of your slick, sticky arousal. The slippery sensation of your clit gliding down Miguel’s length, creating delicious friction.

"C’mon, move your hips."

Your body went on autopilot on that demand, relying on your slick arousal to move fluidly on his length. "You're a fast learner, aren't you?" He groans out quietly, still holding onto your hips.

Soft pants and groans filled the small space and evolved into loud guttural groans from both of y'all.

"Sweetheart, slow down a bit." His breathy request fell on deaf ears before you did as he demanded. "You're humping me like I'm your pillow." He groans out before he adjusts you off his length, feeling the slick linger onto his skin.

He takes his pointer and middle finger, gathers the slick off his length, and places said fingers at the bottom plush of your lips, lightly tapping them, almost asking for permission. "Seems like you understand what I say," He pats your rear lovingly with his free hand before you suckle on his fingers, tasting the mess you left behind. He hums while you clean the pads of his fingers clean.

"Now, ride the bull for me." He demands.

The walk back to the lively scenery returned you to your senses as you prepared to confront your little group of friends. The conversation jumped about like crickets hopping around a long grassy field. It felt like there was no point in being driven before you challenged them against their better judgment and bet. Xina's lips pursed straight, and she nodded to her other girlfriends. The group looked at each other momentarily and caved in, just to see themselves embarrass themselves for the second time that night.

But it wasn't going to happen again...

Straddling down on the pseudo-bull, you looked out to the semi-lively bar, seeing your friends watching from afar and your 'mentor' looking at you while taking a shot. With a raise of his brow and tipping his cowboy hat, a surge of content rested in your belly.

#cowboy!miguel #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #across the spiderverse #miguel fanfic #miguel x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel x y/n #cowboy!au #cowboy!miguel o’hara

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roses-for-rosalyn · 1 year ago

Text

Cowboys

Ellie x reader (for now)

Part 2

summary: A stranger comes to your door- it turns out it's not one of your usual encounters cw: guns, cowboy lingo, fem! reader, cowboy crossdresser Ellie, eventual smut, blood, injuries, your average confusing lesbianism, eventual smut, no use of y/n wc: 3.6k

for those who prefer ao3 <3 gotchu minors DNI (I will steal all you pillowcases)

LINKS TO HELP PALESTINE l DAILY CLICK

Nothing could beat the beauty of the sunset in the desert. Purples, blues, oranges, and yellows swirled together to paint a new masterpiece every night. And every night you would sit on your small, wooden porch with a cup of tea and watch as the sun slowly sinks into the horizon. Tonight was no exception.

The sky becomes darker and darker until the moon and the stars come out, bathing the desert in a silver light. You struggle with the stubborn, old front door for a moment before you step into your little ranch house.

A chill runs through you as the temperature outside rapidly declines. You kneel in front of the fireplace and use the little kindling you have for a fire. It was enough to keep you warm for a few hours while you read yourself to sleep. Sometimes you felt lucky that it was a small enough house that the small fire would warm up the whole place. Your bed was just a few paces away from the mantle.

You stand up and dust off your hands before starting to undress for bed. As you begin to unbutton your bodice a knock sounds from the front door.

You scramble for your rifle by your bedside and check to make sure it’s loaded. You peek through one of your front windows to catch a glimpse of the mysterious stranger. At this hour and on the edge of town, your visitors weren’t usually friendly.

It seems a cowboy has paid you a visit this evening. Haven’t seen one of those in a damn long time. A gun is proudly holstered on his hip next to a lasso, and his black large-brimmed hat keeps his face dark enough that you can’t quite make it out.

He knocks again, louder. You creep up to the front door and slowly open it. Before he can process who opened the door you aim your rifle right at his chest.

“Hands up.” You demand, your voice is surprisingly steady.

“Woah there, I just stopped to ask for some directions.” A deep, yet feminine voice replies. It sounds like she was all too sure you weren’t going to be using that weapon on her, she didn’t even bother to move. You cock the gun, trying like hell to keep your expression blank, unphased while your entire body fills with adrenaline. She takes a step back and puts her hands up. Her hat still covers her face in shadow, it’s like confronting a ghost.

“You should have stopped somewhere else.” You take a step towards her, closing the door behind you while keeping your vision trained on the woman.

“You’re much different than the other women I’ve run into out here.” She looks up slightly, the moonlight illuminating pink, slightly chapped lips forming a smug smirk. “Where’s your husband, miss?”

“I swear if you don’t get back on your goddamn horse I’ll put a hole right through your chest.” she steps towards you, the muzzle of the gun pokes right under her collarbone.

She finally looks at you, silver light exposes a sharp, feminine face dotted with freckles darkened by days in the sun. The sight of her face catches you off guard for just enough time, allowing her to grab the barrel of the rifle and pull it right out of your hands. She drops the gun and it clatters loudly to the ground, echoing through the empty desert landscape. She grabs your wrists before you can start fighting back and pins them above your head against the door with one hand.

“There,” she grunts as you struggle against her grip, she’s surprisingly strong, “now we can have a conversation.”

“Go to Hell.” You say, seething with rage and frustration because she was able to overpower you so easily. She shakes her head and laughs for a moment, saying something under her breath like all this trouble.

You were just about to spit in her face when she said, “Where’s the nearest hotel darlin’?” Your eyes widen at the innocent question, slightly embarrassed. This was a first, she really just needed directions. She uses your stunned silence to talk some more, “I’ve been savin’ up so I could have a bed for the night. And I could really really use a bed tonight, miss.” You stop struggling against her grip and she lets go. She still has that stupid smirk on her face. “So if you could point me in the right direction it would be much appreciated.”

“Head southwest, you’ll hit a trail that will lead you right into town.” You dust off your dress and straighten it out.

“Much appreciated, darlin’.” She tips her hat and walks off toward her horse. You watch in shock as she mounts her horse and before riding away she says just loud enough, “I’ll be seein’ you.” And with a nod, she was off.

You slowly bend down to pick up the Winchester, cradling it against your chest as you watch the stranger disappear into the night. As you head inside you wonder if you ever will see that strange woman again, and fall asleep debating whether or not you would want to.

** **

The next morning you head to the school house. The steady feeling and sound of your horse trotting along the dirt path always forced your mind to wander elsewhere. Right now you couldn’t stop thinking about the woman from last night. The schoolhouse was right in the middle of town, would you see her again? Would she even recognize you? If she did, would she even try to talk to you?

The interaction was a bit embarrassing for you, but to be fair you had your fair share of vile men looking for trouble and hostile groups of Apache knocking on your front door. Your father had taught you how to use his Winchester rifle, the very same rifle you use now, and you mentally thanked him for it every night. You had only used it to kill one man, he wouldn’t take no for an answer and you gave him plenty of warnings. He didn’t believe your threats so now he was buried about 500 feet from the house in an unmarked grave, you were sure no one would miss a man like that. Most of the time the Apache would just come to ask questions about men passing through the area, they never tried to attack you, thankfully, but they would always come at the most ungodly hours and were quite impatient.

Last night was a first, you had never had a cowboy knock at your door, and then she ended up being a woman. The idea of her was so intriguing and you couldn’t figure out why. For some reason, she shook you more than anyone else had since you lived out here. And you’d seen quite a lot.

Your thoughts are interrupted as you reach town, the sound of rickety carriages, hooves against the packed dirt road, and the chatter of men in front of the Sheriff’s Office make it hard to focus.

“Hello there, sunshine!” you hear a male voice call out. You turn towards the voice to see Jesse making his way past you on horseback, lugging today's newspapers to the apothecary. He made the trip from Sante Fe every morning. He was nice enough, you liked talking to him, but not as much as you felt like you should. The ladies at the apothecary, Dina, and Maria, would always encourage you to talk to him. They desperately wanted you to move on from your husband. He was long gone and you knew that, you were even thankful for it, which is why you were nervous to start again. You didn’t want to have to go through anything like that again.

You wave back and smile, “Hi there, Jesse.” You decide to be polite, “Hear anything good today?” He tightens the reins of his horse and stops right next to you.

“They struck gold in Elizabethtown, and there’s gonna be a shortage of tobacco ‘round these parts within the week because of a dust storm over in Tennessee.”

“Well, I’m sure they’ll have a panic on their hands pretty soon then. I don’t know a man here who can live without their cigars.” You smile and Jesse laughs politely at your attempt at a joke.

“Alright, don’t want the kids to show up before I do, I'd best be headin’ to the school.” You yearned to leave this awkward conversation through any means possible. Today was not the day for small talk.

“Ok, I’ll see you tomorrow then, miss.” Your head snaps towards Jesse. You’re suddenly transported to last night and listening to the way the cowboy’s words would drip from her lips, smooth as honey “Miss”. Calm and sure even with a gun pointed right to her heart.

You quickly snap out of it and nod politely at Jesse as you begin to part ways. You head to the schoolhouse in a hurry, the kids gave you hell if you were late.

** **

You’re beginning to lock up the schoolhouse when you hear footsteps approaching. “Well hello there, miss.” You recognize the voice all too quickly, you don’t even need to turn around. “Was really hopin’ I’d find you here.”

As you fish into your pocket for the key you respond, “And how exactly did you find me here?” you turn around and begin to walk past her toward your horse. She follows you. From a brief glance at her, you can see she wears a bandana to cover her face, you could only see her eyes. “You don’t even know my name.”

“I just asked those nice ladies at the apothecary if they knew the women who lived just outside of town, they were more than happy a “nice gentleman” took interest in you. They told me just about everything they knew, your name, some snippets of gossip. I’m sure if I stayed they would’ve told me your life story” You finally turn to face her, your expression unamused. She took her hat off at some point when she was talking to you, her eyes are green, radiant in the unrelenting desert sunlight. You were almost jealous. She wore a dark blue button-down that sat surprisingly flat against her chest and suspenders. She could pass for a man if she wanted to. “So, I take it you don’t have a husband then?”

“What’s it to you?” you cross your arms, defensively.

“I was just curious, I asked last night, but you weren’t exactly in a talking mood.” You swear you can make out her smirk under the bandana.

“No, I haven’t had a husband for quite a while. Is that what you came all the way here to ask me?” She lowers her bandana and steps towards you, backing you into your horse.

“No, I came to ask a favor.” She hesitates for a moment, “No one here can know that I’m, um, well you know..”

“A woman?” pretty easy to piece together after seeing the bandana.

“Yea,” She backs away from you a little. Seems like someone is embarrassed to ask a favor. “It’s just easier for me to get things this way and it’s lookin’ like I’ll be staying later than I planned so..”

“Alright, I won’t say anything.” She opens her mouth to begin to thank you, but you weren’t about to let an opportunity like this pass you by. “But, you owe me a favor then.”

Her excited expression disappeared as quickly as it came, if you weren’t looking you could have missed it, “Um, alright, what do ya need?”

“You know your little visit last night?” You had been cooking this proposition up all day, hoping she would run into you again.

“Yes.”

“Well, that happens to me about every other day. I don’t want a husband, but I do need a guard dog of some kind.” You didn’t want a man in your home, but you did want the protection of one, this was the perfect opportunity, almost too perfect.

“A guard dog?” She seems mildly offended by you comparing her to a dog.

“I’m tired of not being able to sleep because of surprise visitors. And I’ll pay you in two square meals a day, tea, and my homemade moonshine.” She does not look amused. “And I won’t tell anyone you’re a lady.”

“I don’t know-”

“I know you’re almost out of money, I’m sure Tommy is bleeding you dry as an outside visitor. I won’t charge you anything.” Something in her loosens, you can see it.

“So do I sleep on your floor?”

“Or outside if you’d like, makes no difference to me. There’s a fire pit out there for ya” You turn around and mount your horse, eager to get home. “We got a deal?” You reach your hand down towards her. She hesitates before shaking it.

“I’m Ellie by the way.” You nod

“Alright Ellie, I’ll see you at my house then. I trust you’re familiar with the address” She just nods, slightly shocked. You smile and then head off, the comforting sound of hoofbeats clearing the thoughts in your head. On the way home you tend to just listen to the sounds of the desert. After a day of loud, squealing children it was healing. You’re sure you’d go crazy if you lived in town.

** **

You had just finished making your evening tea when you heard a knock on your door. For the first time in a long time, you don’t go into fight or flight mode. You open the door with a smile, part of you is surprised she even showed up. Your proposition was a little ridiculous, but that truly shows how desperate you are.

“Hello there stranger.” You are really pushing it with this attitude, you can tell, but something in you likes it when she gets annoyed.

“Hi.” She takes off her hat and lowers her bandana, something you’ve observed as a habit of hers, one of respect possibly. “So am I sleepin’ with the rattlesnakes or on your floor?”

“You get bit by a rattlesnake come to me and I’ll suck the venom out myself. Until then you best set up camp before dark darlin’.” You smile at her sweetly.

“Figured as much.” She smirks and walks away to set up camp.

“Dinner’ll be ready in 20 minutes. I hope ya like stew.” You call out to her. “Oh, and there’s a spring out back if you need any water!”

** **

The stew finally thickens up to the way you like it, you pour it into two bowls and quickly slurp up your serving. Didn’t taste amazing, but it was food.

You open your front door to bring Ellie her food and see that she’s already started a fire, she’s sipping from a silver flask just staring at the flames.

You approach and wordlessly hand her a bowl of stew and a spoon. She looks up at you “You gonna eat?”

“No, I- uh already ate.” More like inhaled but she didn’t need to know that. You point at her flask. “What’s in there?”

“You’re tellin’ me you don’t know what’s in here?” She raises her eyebrows.

“I know it’s liquor, Ellie, I’m just askin’ what kind.” Her confused expression drops.

“Whiskey.” She looks at the flask in her hand, then at you. “Want some?” She clearly did not want to offer it to you. But you sit down next to her and reach your hand out for it.

“Hand it over.” She hands you the flask. The metal was cool to the touch, almost shocking after the desert heat all day. You take a sip and the liquor burns its way down your throat, and your face scrunches a little. You were used to shooting whiskey, but this was particularly terrible, even worse than your moonshine. “Wow, that’s pretty awful.”

Ellie laughs between bites of stew, “You’re stew isn’t the greatest thing I’ve tasted either.”

“Hey!” You lightly punch her shoulder. She giggles even more. “You’re welcome for the food by the way.” You take another swig of whiskey and then hand the flask back to the cowgirl.

“Thank you,” she takes the flask, “for the meal.” she hands you her empty bowl. “And a place to stay, even if it’s outside.”

“We’ll see, maybe you’ll earn your way inside.” You take her bowl and turn to head inside.

“Is that a challenge?” She calls after you.

“Maybe.” You call back.

You step inside and immediately undress for bed, the whiskey making your eyes droop closed. You can barely get your buttons undone before you fall into bed, for the first time in a while, not having to worry about dangerous strangers knocking down your door.

** **

You wake up to a hasty knock coming from the front door. It’s still dark outside. You weren’t supposed to have to deal with this anymore. You grab your rifle and don’t even bother checking who is at the door simply out of annoyance. Would have bit you in the ass later if it was a surprise visitor. You open the door and cock the rifle. To your astonishment, you open the door to Ellie, holding her side. There’s a dark stain forming under her hands, her face is bloody and bruised. And yet she’s got a smug yet pained smile on her face. “This how you’re always gonna greet me?”

“Jesus Ellie,” you usher her inside quickly. “What happened?”

“You got some visitors, a group of Apache men.” She sits down in one of your wooden dining room chairs. You rush over to grab the small medical kit you had managed to fashion over the years. “They wanted to see you in particular, when I told them you weren’t accepting visitors they sort of attacked me. It was one versus six”

“They don’t trust many people.” You undo Ellie’s suspenders and begin unbuttoning her shirt without even thinking. “Most folks round here shoot first and ask questions later, they don’t have any respect or patience for a stubborn cowboy.” You walk over, grab a candle and some matches, and light it so you can see. “Can’t say I blame them. I am sorry though I’d thought they’d see your gun and back off”

“That is real optimistic of ya.” You remove her right arm from the sleeve of her shirt. She is wearing some sort of binding around her chest- so that’s how she’s managed to pass for a man.

“Wow, that’s a big word for you.” You smirk at her as you clean your hands with some moonshine.

“Really? I’m bleedin’ out and you’re making fun of me?” You press gauze to her wound, she hisses through her teeth.

“Please, you’re not bleeding out. Shouldn’t even need stitches, just some cleaning and dressing.” You look up at her, you’re not quite sure, but even in the dim candlelight, you could swear she was blushing. You wouldn’t dare mention it when she’s already made herself so vulnerable.

“Now for the hard part.” You take out a small bottle of vinegar.

“Alright.” Ellie leans back in the chair, ready for the sting of the vinegar.

“Here.” You take her left hand and place it on your shoulder. “Squeeze if you need to.” She nods and you take that as your cue to begin. You pour the vinegar on the wound and you watch as her abs contract, her hand squeezes your shoulder, pretty hard, but you know she was trying not to hurt you, even in pain.

You stand up and gently wrap a few layers of gauze around her mid-section, just in case it starts bleeding again during the night. You were so, so close to her, you could feel the heat radiating from her skin. “You always wear that?”

“Wear what?”

“The-the bandages, round your chest.” She looks down at them like she almost forgot they were there. Suddenly you realize how personal that question must be. “Sorry, I shouldn’t said anything. You don’t have to answer”

“No, It’s alright. I don’t mind. Yes, I’ve worn this for a while now, easier to get around when you look like a man.” You nod and finish wrapping the gauze around her and pin it in place. You put a bit of vinegar on a piece of gauze and begin cleaning the cuts on her face. “Oh, you don’t need to do that, miss.”

“Please just let me clean off your face. Were you planning on walkin’ around town tomorrow with dried blood on your cheeks?” She opens her mouth to say something but closes it. She’s quiet as you gently clean her face, you can see every freckle, every scar, her eyes shining in the candlelight. It was odd being this close to her. You had never felt comfortable being this physically close to someone. Her warmth almost invited you in, made you want to press your nose to her neck, run your hands across her skin, feeling along all the freckles and scars, memorizing the spot of each one. you wanted to know her in a way you have never wanted to know anybody else.

“Hey,” a gentle voice grounds you back into reality. “I think my face is clean.” She smiles softly. She was right, at some point, you had gotten her face completely clean, you’re not sure how long she let you drag the cloth across her freckled cheeks before she said something.

“Yeah, sorry.” You back away and put the blood-soaked gauze in the burn pile. “You should sleep in here. Don’t think anyone else will be coming tonight. I’ll go get your bedroll.” Ellie just nods and you go out to grab her things.

You hurry back and set up her bedroll on the floor right next to your bed. She makes her way to it and sits down on the floor with a thud, careful to not contort her body in a way that could re-open the wound. She collapses onto the wool blankets. When you’re sure she’s settled you place your rifle back next to your bed and fall into your mattress, knowing you’ll be exhausted tomorrow.

lmk what you think! Likes, comments and reblogs always appreciated!

LINKS TO HELP PALESTINE l DAILY CLICK

Part 2 >>

#ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie x fem reader #ellie tlou #tlou 2 ellie #tlou2 #cowboy!au #western! au #cowboy!Ellie #cleaning wounds trope hehe

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gh0stsp1d3r · 9 months ago

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The monsters gone, he’s on the run and your daddy’s here…

BEAUTIFUL BOY REFERENCE YAHHH

, so here’s EVEN MORE cowboy!dad!jj

“I mean- could you really see JJ being a dad?” Kiara asked you one day at a rodeo. You and him had gone and ran into Kiara. He sat down, chatting and laughing with his friends as he sat back, sipping on a beer.

“I can.” You said sincerely, looking back at him. He glanced up at you, smiling behind his beer bottle before looking back to his friends

JJ had turned out to be a better dad than you expected.

when she was six, she had some into your shared room, shouting and crying about a monster under her bed.

“Baby, there ain’t no monster.” You told her, tucking her into your side.

“You want daddy to go check?” He asked her gruffly, he was exhausted and tired, and wanted nothing more to lay down. But he offered and she nodded feverishly.

“Thank you.” You sighed, looking at him with a smile as he left. He just gave you a nod, following her into her room.

He sighed as he got on the floor, moving his head to look underneath the bed.

“Oh, I see it.” He said to her, she shrieked and ran into the other room again. He stood back up with a small smile and shook his head, going into the room where she stood.

“Daddy, daddy, did ya get ‘em?!” She asked, her accent sounding just like JJs.

“Yup. I have officially gotten rid of all the monsters in the house. See, your daddy’s an expert at monster trapping.” He told her, watching her expression change into one of shock.

“Wow! Really?”

“Yup. Now get back to bed.” He pointed out the door, she hugged his legs and thanked him, telling you both goodnight and running into her room again.

And even when she was older, when she had her heart broken by some boy. She sat in her room, sobbing the whole night. JJ had just gotten home, watching you rub her arm up and down, letting her cry on your shoulder.

He furrowed his eyebrows, taking his hat off and putting it onto the desk she had, entering the room.

“What’s wrong, ladybug?” He asked, concerned.

“J- Josh, he broke up wit’ me this morning. Said I was too sensitive-“ she stuttered out, you frowning and patting her head again.

“Oh, that fucker- where’s my damn gun?”

She laughed at his reaction, you smiled at her laugh. She wiped away her tears and sniffled. He smiled as well, sitting down with you both.

“He was ugly anyways.” JJ shrugged, but opened his arms up to hug her. “‘Nd he ain’t even know how to ride. Or shoot! You been doin’ both since you were 8!”

She laughed again, her father always having a way to make anyone laugh.

Kiara was wrong when she said that JJ wouldn’t make a good dad, because he was the best at it.

#cowboy!jj #jj maybank fic #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank drabble #dad!jj maybank #cowboy!au #cowboy!dad!jj #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank #jj obx #jj x y/n #jj x you #jj x reader #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank prompt

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1luckyrubberducky · 1 year ago

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#i lomf him face lol #cowboy!au #cowboy!sundrop #cowboy au #fnaf au #cowboy au belongs to castercassette #1luckyrubberducky #actions have *potentially desireable* consequences

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kod23pm · 1 year ago

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yee-

#resident evil #leon kennedy #cowboy #re2 #cowboy!au #leon s kennedy

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deansbeer · 3 months ago

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𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐀𝐒 SKIES & 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒 TIES

000. PROLOGUE ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ִ ݁ ♡ .

✸ 𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟓; the first time you and jensen met.

PAIRING. cowboy!jensen x female reader ꒱

SYNOPSIS. in a stormy december of '95, your world shifts when jensen arrives at your family's ranch. what starts with an awkward meeting becomes something unexpectedly sweet.

kari yaps. hiii there, i feel SO soso happy n giddy inside, seeing all of u as excited as i am for this new series !!!! i'll try my best to keep up w it, esp this upcoming week for xmas <3 & if it isnt finished by then, hopefully by new years it is. HOWEVER, if it isnt done once the new year rolls in, someone yell @ me, i give u full permission !!!!! im crossing my fingers, though. n e ways :) love yall smmm <3

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. ୨ৎ 𝐉𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐍'𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐘.

DECEMBER brought the kind of cold that made texas feel foreign. you weren't expecting company that morning, which explained your current state: sleep shorts, an old long sleeve baby tee that had seen better days, and crew socks that reached above your ankles. your hair was a mess, tangled from sleep, but you didn't care—until your dad's voice boomed through the house.

"honey, alan's boy is here to help with the storm prep!"

you froze, halfway through pouring your coffee. through the kitchen window, you caught sight of a red chevy pickup truck pulling up, and your stomach dropped. everyone knew alan ackles' son—jensen was practically dallas royalty when it came to ranch families.

"coming!" you called back, but it was too late. the screen door creaked open, and there he stood: tall, broad-shouldered, in worn jeans and boots, his green eyes catching yours immediately.

"jensen, this is my daughter," your dad said, clapping him on the shoulder. "sweetheart, this is jensen."

you wanted to die right there, especially when his lips curved into a slight smirk. "nice to meet you," he drawled, his voice deep and warm. "nice pajamas."

your face heats up in embarrassment. "i wasn't exactly expecting visitors at seven in the morning."

"storm's not gonna wait for proper attire, darlin'," your dad chuckled. "why don't you go get dressed? you're helping us today."

"what? dad, no—"

"actually," your mom chirped, appearing from nowhere like she always did when there was potential for embarrassment, "if you help today, we can hit the mall this afternoon."

you narrowed your eyes. "promise?"

"cross my heart."

yeah, you're never going to the mall.

twenty minutes later, properly dressed in jeans and boots, you found yourself trailing behind jensen and your dad toward the stables. the horses needed tending first—they were always priority during storms.

"beauty's been real fussy lately," your dad was saying. "might need extra attention."

"i can handle the horses," you offered quickly. anything to avoid more awkward interaction with jensen.

your dad nodded. "good idea. jensen and i'll check the fencing. don't forget to clean their areas too."

you watched them head off, relief flooding through you until beauty, your black mare, nudged your shoulder. "i know, girl," you muttered. "i'm a mess."

the next hour passed peacefully enough. most of the horses were being difficult—storm weather always made them antsy—but beauty kept them in line with warning neighs whenever they got too rowdy. you were halfway through brushing down the last horse when boots scuffed against the stable floor behind you.

"need any help?"

you jumped, spinning around to find jensen leaning against one of the stalls. "jesus, wear a bell or something."

he laughed, pushing off the frame and walking over. "your dad said to come check on you. more workers showed up to help with the heavy lifting."

"'m fine," you said quickly, turning back to the horse. "almost done."

"you sure? because that one looks about ready to bite."

as if on cue, the horse snapped its teeth, and you jerked back. jensen stepped forward, his chest brushing your back as he reached for the brush. "here," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. "let me."

you stepped aside, watching as he effortlessly calmed the horse with a few gentle strokes. "show off."

"nah," he grinned. "just been doing this since i could walk. your ranch is different though. bigger than ours."

"yeah?" you leaned against the stable wall. "how so?"

and just like that, the awkwardness melted away. jensen told you about his family's ranch, about learning to ride before he could properly run, about the differences in how each ranch operated. by the time your dad called everyone in for dinner, you'd almost forgotten about your embarrassing first meeting.

your mom, ever the hostess, had prepared enough food to feed an army. neighbors started arriving, filling your house with chatter and laughter. you showered and changed, choosing a soft sweater and clean jeans, your hair finally tamed.

"movie time!" someone called after dinner, and suddenly the living room was full of kids your age, all piling onto couches to watch christmas reruns.

you tucked yourself into the corner of the couch, trying to take up as little space as possible. but then jensen sat next to you, his thigh pressing against yours despite the space on his other side. you tried to scoot away, give him room, but he just moved closer.

"cold?" he whispered, and before you could answer, his hand found yours.

your palm went instantly clammy. across the room, you caught daisy oliver's glare—everyone knew she had a thing for jensen, had been trying to catch his eye for months. you tried to pull away, but his fingers tightened.

"relax," he murmured, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "this okay?"

you nodded, unable to form words, and spent the rest of the night hyper-aware of every small movement of his hand against yours.

the next morning, you hid in your room, avoiding the inevitable goodbye when his dad came to pick him up. you'd heard the rumors about him and daisy so holding his hand felt like crossing a line you hadn't meant to cross.

you didn't know then that jensen had never looked twice at her. didn't know that he had spend the whole ride home telling his dad about the girl in pajamas who'd caught his eye. didn't know that this was just the beginning.

𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 taglist. @deanswidow @a1ecmcdowell @beausling @titsout4jackles @frosttbitessam @aileenunfiltered @deansbite @jasvtsc @fallbhind @ostaramoon @lacydollette @ultravi0lence14 @rubyvhs ◟ ☆ ݁ ⋆ 🏇 ˚⊹ ˖ ﾟ✶ ݁. comment OR send an ask to be added / removed !!!!!

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world-of-aus · 1 year ago

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Pairing: Cowboy!Bucky x Nanny!Reader

Warnings: None.

Author's Note: I'm honestly still in my cowboy era and have also been wanting to try my hand at making a series so I bring you this little piece! I have it more less planned and hope you all will stick around and enjoy this ride with me! Happy Readings!

The iron gate is warm under his touch, the rising sun low enough in the sky that the iron railing has now begun to cool. He watches his dark-haired boy run around the ‘arena’; lasso gripped tightly in his small hands as he gives the calf chase.

Bucky chuckles smile pulling at his lips as he calls out to his son, “champ you got to get that rope off the ground if you want to catch ‘im”. The boy all but stops in his track, feet throwin up dirt chocolate eyes locking on his, “the ropes to long daddy, I’m trying!” he pouts.

Clambering off the rails his feet hit the dirt as he makes his way into the gated ‘arena’ closing the distance between him and his son. He gets down to eye level, pout still adorning his boy’s lips, “you, Uncle Steve, and Sam make this look so easy, I don’t get what I’m doing wrong, I'm doing exactly how I see you do it.”

“Not doing anything wrong champ, c’mere,” he says pulling his son close. “Put your hand here, and wrap this,” he says adjusting his sons' hands, “right here, make sure it’s tight now, don’t want to lose your grip on it and risk that calf getting away from you now.”

Grant follows his father’s directions, “alright, now that we got the rope secured let's get it above our heads.” He helps his son get the rope going, “see, you’re getting it, now, I want you to throw it right at that spot over there imagine the calf's just sitting, focus now,” He advises finger pointed to a spot just feet ahead. Bucky watches his son, tongue peeked out of his lips as he concentrates, rope still swinging. It falls quiet for a moment, then the soft thud of rope hitting dirt meets their ears. Grants grin is wide as he snaps his head back to look at his dad, “I did it daddy! I did it!” He mirrors his son’s smile pulling him in for a bone-crushing hug, lips finding the side of his chocolate locks, “knew you could bud, knew you could.”

“I can’t wait to tell Aunt Tasha about it!” the boy’s excitement grows, “well how about we get a few more rounds of practice in, we still got some time before she gets here.”

They’re outside in the arena practicing till the sun begins to dip into the west horizon making way for the moon and stars that have begun to decorate the still early night sky. Bucky leads him and his son from the arena, leaving the calf with his mom in the barn before they make their way to the house. Steve’s truck is parked out front, him and Natasha sitting on the porch waiting.

Grant spots his aunt and uncle first, excitement hardly contained as he drops his dad’s hand bolting to the front porch, his aunt’s name on his lips. Bucky stops by the front of Steve’s truck watching his son, he’s in Natasha’s arms, raving about his day to them, Steve and Natasha hearing him with wonder in their eyes.

“You’re going to be running circles around the arena in no time bud, put all of us to shame, especially your dad” Steve teases meeting his eyes.

Bucky laughs, “The day he puts me to shame in the arena will be the greatest day of my life, means I taught him well.’

“While we can’t wait for the day he puts ALL OF YOU to shame, I’d like to enjoy my little man while I can, right champ?” Natasha grins hoisting the boy higher on her hip. Grant is taken with his aunt hands curling around her neck as he squeezes her there cheeks mushing together.

There’s an ache in Bucky’s chest as he watches the scene before him, like the many restless nights he has he can’t help but to think in this moment what he could have done differently, what he could have said to make her stay. He’s her carbon copy, he hates it. She doesn’t deserve to have any piece of him, not after she just up and left without so much as a word. Bucky still recalls the urgent call from the daycare asking if anyone would be coming for Grant. He hadn’t been able to get ahold of her since that day, not that he’s tried much since Grant’s 3rd birthday.

“Buck - hey pal everything good, you sure you still wanna meet Sam at thirsty barrel?”

The brunette is pulled from his reverie, eyes falling on his best friend who has since approached him, he shakes his head, “yeah - yeah pal sorry just thinking.” He looks over Steve’s shoulder, Natasha and Grant waving at him, he waves back, “have fun you guys, me and little man are gonna have some fun of our own, isn’t that right!”

“Make sure he’s in bed by 9, 10 the latest.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever dad, get out of here!” Natasha replies waving them off.

Steve and Bucky chuckle making sure Natasha and Grant get inside the house before they clamber into Steve’s truck.

“You sure you feeling up for tonight?” Steve questions him as he turns the key in the ignition. Bucky watches the house, getting a glimpse of Grant through the window, “I’m sure, my thoughts just got the best of me but I'll be fine.” Steve puts the truck into drive, “she’s not worth it Buck, the day she decided to leave, cut all contact with you, with grant that’s the day she stopped being of any importance.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs eyes drifting out the window as Steve backs out of the ranch, “it’s just I wonder if I had done things differently if she would still be here.”

“You gave her your all Buck; I don’t think there’s anything more you could have given her to make her stay.”

And though Bucky knows Steve is right, his words don’t sting any less.

The thirsty barrel was in full swing, the bar packed to the brim. Bucky, Steve and Sam had managed to snag the last remaining booth, drinks being run to their table as they talked business.

“So you find anyone to watch little man when we hit the road at the end of the month?” Sam questioned over his drink.

Bucky sighed, he had forgotten, he had been so busy with Grant, with the ranch that he had forgot to look into a caretaker for his son. Another thing he would have to add to his to do list for tomorrow. He shakes his head taking a sip of his beer, “not yet, been looking around but I haven't settled on anyone yet.”

Sam tsks, “We have two weeks before we’re needing to head out on the road Buck, and little man can’t come with us because of school.” Bucky places his drink down running a hand over his bearded scruff, “you don’t think I know that Sam, I'm trying, just haven’t had luck, can’t just trust anyone with him either, I need to know he’s going to be safe, cared for.”

“I can ask Natasha to skip this trip Buck, I’m sure it won’t be a problem, she loves spending time with grant.”

Bucky shakes his head at Steve, “absolutely not pal, I know how much Natasha is looking forward to seeing you ride, I can’t ask that of you or her – I'll find someone – I will.”

A damper has been placed on Bucky’s mood despite the change in subject, and he’s quiet for most of the night tuning in here and there when Steve or Sam directs something at him. He’s there, but not really, his mind drifting to the thought of his son. If Sam or Steve notice his absence, they don’t mention it, nor do they push him to converse, they know how hard it's been for him since she left, and they try to do all they can to help him.

They’re not at the bar long, Sam being the first one to throw in the towel, Steve seconding the notion, Bucky doesn’t argue as they pay the tab, each leaving a tip for their waitress. The trio say their goodbyes outside of the bar, Sam promising to stop by the ranch tomorrow to see grant, get some riding time in with the boy, Steve jumps in to join as well. “Can use all the practice, only got two weeks left,” he chuckles.

Bucky and Steve see Sam off before they get inside the truck, it's quiet most of the ride home, Bucky appreciates Steve for giving him this. It’s only until they’re pulling into the ranch 30 minutes later that he does decide to speak up.

“I’ll help you find someone for Grant,” he says putting the truck in park, eyes meeting his friends, “make sure that it’s someone we can trust, the closest to family that we can get.”

Bucky nods, the fear of that not being possible choking him, Steve reaches a hand out laying it on his shoulder, squeezing, “I promise pal, we’ll find you someone, we’ve got two weeks.”

Two weeks.

Bucky’s nodding again, “I appreciate you pal, listen I'll go get Natasha for you, know you two have quite the drive, don’t want it getting late for you.”

Steve gives him his thanks watching him get off the truck, make his way up the steps and to the front door. Bucky disappears inside, returning a few minutes later with Natasha. Steve watches the two exchange a few words before she’s pulling Bucky into a tight embrace more words shared. The two pull away and Bucky watches her as she gets into the truck safely.

They all wave one final time at each other before Bucky heads back inside, the lights of his home flickering off one at a time. Steve waits till the last light has been turned off before he’s putting the truck back in drive, making his way out of the ranch.

“How was he?” Natasha questions finding Steve’s hand.

“He’s not doing good,” Steve answers, “he’s worried about leaving Grant at the end of the month.”

“I can stay, you know I don’t mind, I can watch you ride anytime.”

Steve looks over to her, “he already said no, you know he isn't going to go back on his word,” his eyes flick back to the road, “we just need to find someone he can trust; we need family.”

It goes quiet in the cab of the truck for a moment, Natasha speaks up a few minutes later, “I might have someone, she’s a family friend, I could have her come meet us at the ranch tomorrow.” Steve gives her a questioning look, the redhead rolls her eyes, “Bucky doesn’t keep anything from me where Grant is involved, it’ll be perfect everyone can meet her, see how she fits in.”

Steve agrees, and he can’t help but hope this works out, he didn’t want to see his friend hurting anymore, and he hoped with help that he might be the Bucky he was before her.

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