#cowboy bfs

[iszapizza]

cowboy bfs (knivio drabble)

Knives stepped out of the small dressing room, tugging on his collar as a way to keep his hands busy. The outfit Livio had picked out for him fit snugly around his body, shirt and black pants tight but loose enough to move in them. He wasn’t wearing the cowboy boots yet; he wouldn’t dare complete the attire if it didn’t look good. This was his first time going out for Halloween with someone that wasn’t Vash, so he had to look perfect. No. He had to look spectacular. His confidence evaporated, though, when he heard Livio’s voice calling from afar, looking for him. Knives’s eyes sped around trying to gather his location, but a small gasp to his left made his neck break out in a sweat.

He turned quietly; throat tight. His eyes met Livio’s wide gold ones, and he inwardly cursed at the heat gathering on his cheeks.

“If it looks that hideous, I’ll just change out of it, no need to gape.”, Knives muttered, and to that Livio stuttered a bit before answering.

“No! Uh, I mean. You look good. Great.”, the taller man scratched the back of his neck, eyes blinking before looking up and down Knives’ form. His tan face grew darker and Knives fought back a snort. He could be so obvious sometimes, but rather than mentioning it, he had preferred to observe and not risk their relationship mutating into something else. Something less familiar and more daunting than the tentative friendship they had built through Vash’s insistence. You need more friends, he had said. He had argued back that he didn’t need them, but now he was glad Livio had actually managed to stuck around like he did. Who else would drag him out into the world and make him see it not as one to be destroyed but tolerated instead. He had a lot of feelings surrounding that, but Livio’s gaze made him forget all that mess for a moment and snap back at him.

“Now it’s your turn. Go dress up, cowboy.”, he said dryly, to which Livio blinked and bit his lip.

“We didn’t come here for me. I already have a costume, don’t you remember?”

“That’s a shame, you’d look great in that pink hat over there.”

Livio laughed. A beautiful sound, raspy and deep, scratching at the inside of Knives’ chest comfortably. Like the shivers you get as you sit next to a fireplace, before the warmth sets in. He could get drunk in the sound, but Livio spoke again and the sensation was lost.

“Stop teasing me! But seriously, you look amazing in that get up. Do you want it?”, he asked gently. His head was tilted to the side, as if he was a gigantic dog. He was built like a mountain, but his eyes were sweet and punctured at Knives’ heart harder than any blade. Fuck, he was in too deep.

“Sure. I’ll ask Vash if there’s enough money in the card. Lord knows he could eat up all our savings in donuts.”, he snuck back into the dressing room. He started to remove the clothes, hands sweaty at the prospect of Livio standing outside. He never let anyone get close enough to see him like this, but something about the other made him wonder about his reaction to his bare skin. Was he too pale? Too bulky? Too uncomfortable to hold? He shook those thoughts out of his head. It didn’t matter. They were friends. Just friends. Like Vash intended. Like he had promised to himself.  But he no longer knew what he wanted anymore.

He walked out and saw Livio waiting next to another stall, hands in his pockets. He gazed at the bundle of clothes in Knives’ hands and held out his own. Knives frowned but got the message, handing them over.

Livio broke out into a sprint, long legs carrying him through the aisles with ease. After processing the shock, Knives ran after him, calling his name, for the first time not caring about the curious gazes on his back. He arrived at the end of the line to pay, and found out that Livio had somehow sped through it until he was extremely close to one of the cashiers. Knives gulped as he saw him take out his own card and pay for the costume.

Livio walked out of the line, a broad smile on his rugged handsome face and Knives wanted to gut him.

“What the hell was that?”, they walked away from the gathering of people, next to the children’s section.

“I wanted to give it to you as a gift!”, Livio grinned.

“I didn’t ask for that.”

“Oh.”, Livio paled and started to glance around nervously. His hands held the bag as if it had gained several kilograms of weight by magic.

Knives sighed and took hold of the bag, but not before gracing Livio’s hands, to which his heart stuttered, “Fine. I’ll take it if only to keep you from crying.”, he spoke before Livio could interrupt him, “At least let me pay for the boots.”

“Oh right, the boots. I forgot about those.”

And to that, Knives laughed. His laugh wasn’t as pleasant as Livio’s. It was sharp and sometimes too loud to be a socially acceptable laugh. But Livio smiled at him either way, eyes soft and too enamored. And Knives wanted so bad. He wanted so bad, to do something, anything.

They strolled over to the shoe section, and never had Knives ever thought he’d be this delighted to buy a ridiculous pair of cheap cowboy boots.

[sendmeartgifs]

More cursed twitter thoughts lmao. I love the concept of Hua Cheng being this delinquent cowboy that constantly evades the police and reeks "havoc" (he actually just rides around and beats up corrupt police/ranchers and takes care of people that annoy him in different complicated ways but everybody is scared of him) but for some reason he always shows up in the big town around the mines that is policed by Xie lian and his two deputies, and he /always/ greets Xie lian. People constantly see his horse sitting outside of the police station and wonder if he’s finally been apprehended just to belatedly realize that he’s just in there flirting with the sheriff or helping him with cases that he knows secret stuff about lol

[shehungthemoon]

"Yes babe I'll drive you to the cowboy corpse cemetery" "Yes sweetheart I will wear my nicest suit for it" "Yes Evan of course I will kiss you even with your boils" TOMMY KINARD THE RIDICULOUSLY DOWN-BAD MAN THAT YOU ARE

[cozymoko]

Wild, Wild West 𐚁

Introduction fic for my cowboy OC idea. I hope you guys like this. This was in my drafts for at least half a year, haha.

Pairing: Yandere Cowboy x City Girl! Reader

Format: Short fic; 1.4k words

WARNING(S): Yandere themes, possessive, minor insecurity from reader.

Synopsis: Jealousy, Jealousy, read all about it! When in a new environment, insecurities are bound to surface. Why don't you go get you a drink to simmer down a bit?

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

The old Texas sun was relentless, harsher than usual, beating down on the skin of those poor townspeople just going about their day. Its temper reminded you of your late grandmother, always nagging and pestering like there was no tomorrow.

You found refuge near the large clumps of hay by the stables. The smell was familiar—unpleasant, sure, but nothing you couldn’t handle.

Why the hell were you out here? Damn you for wanting to tag along, keeping that big oaf company. He couldn’t stop poking fun at you, pushing you past your limits. It was like he knew you inside and out, from the surface of your pampered skin to the depths of your fluttering heart. For a man who wasn’t too fond of school, he sure seemed to study you a lot.

And speak of the devil. He wiped dirt and grime off the worn denim that hung low at his waist. “What’s the matter, darlin’?” he called out, glancing over his shoulder to meet your eyes. “You don’t look too hot.”

Hell, that was an understatement.

He sauntered over, slipping his hat off his head. His long strides had him at your side in moments, staring down at your seated position. Pushing his deep auburn hair from his damp skin, he squatted next to you. “What’s the matter?” he asked, placing the hat back on his head.

You pressed your lips into a thin line, torn between telling him and keeping your annoyance to yourself. You weren’t even doing any heavy lifting, just spectating, but somehow, that made the heat even worse.

“It’s hot,” you mumbled, swallowing your pride.

“Then take your shirt off.” He grinned, raising a brow. “It’s just you ‘n me today, and it’s not like I haven’t seen you without it anyhow—”

“Stop!” you shouted, hugging your knees to your chest. If not for the heat, you’d have flushed even redder.

“Alright, suit yourself.” Jamie smirked, planting a kiss on your temple before rising to his feet in one swift motion. He turned back to his polished truck, the one he treated like gold. Sometimes, you swore he loved that hunk of metal more than anything, but you’d soon learn that his world revolved around you.

Your eyes followed his back, tracing the way his muscles moved with each twist of the wrench. Jamie was a tease, but damn if he wasn’t easy on the eyes. Your gaze drifted to the tattoos scattered across his tanned skin, lingering on the intricate, slightly faded markings near his jugular—your name, carved right there. The sight of it made you hot all over, and you found yourself popping open a few buttons.

You had told that stubborn fool not to get it, warning him that tattoos were permanent and took hours of pain to remove.

“Why’re you sayin’ something like that?” he’d chuckled back then. “It’ll be a cold day in hell before I get this baby removed, sugarplum.”

The memory made you want to laugh. Jamie was as stubborn as a bull—and as big as one too. Too bad all that stubbornness would be the death of him. Not literally, of course.

“You wanna help me with the cattle? Think they need some lovin’, too.”

You tilted your head, a spark of hope flaring up. Maybe he was serious about wanting your help, about spending time together—maybe he was letting you be part of this place, tending to your shared home. But then he shrugged.

“Or I could get Mary Anne to come by. She’s always good with ’em—knows her way around horses like she was born with ’em.”

Mary Anne. Just the mention of her name made your blood boil. You’d seen her—all soft curls and sweet smiles, the kind of girl who fit right in here. Unlike you.

Your lips thinned, the jealousy rising like a rattlesnake. “Oh, is that so?” you asked, trying to keep your voice even despite the bitterness creeping in. “Mary Anne this, Mary Anne that—why don’t you just go on and ask her, then, since she’s not a ‘city girl’?”

Jamie’s eyes narrowed. “Hey now, what’s got you so riled up, sugar?”

“What’s got me riled up?” you snapped, rising to your feet. “You know damn well, Jamie. You think I don’t notice how you bring her up every time it’s my turn to help?”

You took a deep breath. “I know I’m not as capable as the others, but this is my home too. I’ve been here for over a year, and you still don’t ask me to help.”

He rolled his eyes, sighing as he straightened up, towering over you. “Aw, hell, [Name]. You actin’ like this ’cause you’re on the rag or somethin’? Ain’t no need to get all hot ’n bothered over nothin’.”

The words hit you like a slap, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, disbelief turning into a wave of fury. “You think that’s what this is about?” you hissed, your voice sharp as a knife. “You think that just because I’m upset, it’s gotta be because of that?”

Jamie shrugged, unfazed, and that was the last straw. You spun on your heel, the dusty ground kicking up beneath your boots as you stormed off. “Go on and call her, then!” you shouted over your shoulder. “I’m sure she’s just itching to help you!”

You didn’t wait for his response. You marched across the sunbaked field, fists clenched tight. You needed to get away—somewhere he wasn’t. The barn blurred into blobs of red as tears stung at the corners of your eyes. But you weren’t about to let him see you cry. Not now, not ever.

This is not where you wanted to end up. An old, run-of-the-mill saloon on a Friday night, surrounded by drunkards and divorcees, the air thick with the stench of stale tobacco. Voices murmur, glasses clink, and the laughter around you is harsh and grating. To hell with it all. To hell with them.

The whiskey settles in your veins, warm and familiar as you lean against the sticky bar. Neon lights flicker, casting a red glow across your half-empty glass, and you blink to clear your vision. You know you’ve had too much, but the night’s long, and the noise makes it easy to drown out everything.

"Fuck," you mutter, rubbing your temples.

You’ve never been much of a drinker. After moving to the countryside to be with Jamie, life on the ranch demanded your focus. Jamie hated liquor, practically despised it.

Dammit, [Name], forget about him. You shake the thought away.

“Now, darlin’, looks like your glass is ‘bout empty,” a smooth, slow drawl cuts through your thoughts. The man tilts the brim of his hat back just enough for you to catch a glint in his eyes—cold, calculating, like a snake. “Why don’t you let me get you another?”

Oh, right. You weren’t exactly alone.

“Sound good?” he asks again, his voice dripping with intentions you’re too drunk to untangle, coaxing you with the rough pad of his thumb tracing over your knuckles.

You hum. “Thank you.”

For a moment, you try to recall his name—Michael? Richard? Ashton? Danny? None of them sound right. Nothing about him feels familiar. Just another face in the blur. You decide he’s irrelevant.

"You don’t want it to get cold now, do ya?"

A voice in your head tells you to stop, to head home before you cross a line. Something about him makes your stomach churn, but you blame it on the alcohol. It doesn’t take much persuasion before you reach for the glass.

The liquor is bitter but good. But once it slips down your throat, the room spins. You blink hard, trying to steady yourself.

The barstool creaks as you sway, gripping the counter for balance. The stranger’s grin stretches wider, eyes watching you like a hawk. You know you shouldn’t have taken that drink, but it’s too late. The world starts tilting.

You turn, ready to brush off the man beside you, when you hear the heavy boots. They echo on the old floorboards, slow and deliberate, each step sending a chill down your spine. Then, a hand rests on your shoulder, the grip firm, possessive.

“Takin’ drinks from strangers now, sugar?” His voice is low, a whisper against your ear. “Why’d you go and do that for? You know better.”

Jamie.

His breath is warm, almost too close, as his fingers dig into your shoulder just enough to keep you anchored. The stranger’s hand pulls back, and you catch the flicker of fear in his eyes.

Jamie’s fingers tighten, not enough to hurt, but enough to warn. “Ain’t polite to drink without me, darlin’.” His tone is calm, but there’s a tension in it, like a leash pulled too tight.

You look up at him, the soft light catching the curve of his grin. The cowboy hat sits low, loose curls brushing the nape of his neck, his button-up shirt hugging the broad stretch of his shoulders. His forearms, tanned and strong, are exposed as his sleeves are rolled up. His eyes, though—dark and unreadable—pin you in place. There’s a hunger in them, one that makes your skin prickle.

He runs his thumb over your bottom lip, wiping off the smudge of your lipstick. His grin widens, revealing sharp canines that peek between his lips. It’s friendly enough—too friendly. Like the way foxes smile when they’re circling prey.

“Mm, you’re drunk.” He says it like it’s a fact he’s already known for hours. “How much you had tonight, sugarplum?”

You stare at your glass, pretending you don’t know. You don’t want to admit to your carelessness.

Jamie chuckles, a low, knowing sound. “So, quite a bit, huh?”

His laugh is loud, and it feels like a warning. He leans in, his hand settling on your hip, fingers curling possessively. “And flirtin’ with some nobody at the bar. That’s new.” His eyes narrow. “So, you gonna tell me who he is?”

The stranger shifts uneasily, glancing between you and Jamie. His bravado fades, and he mumbles, “Look, I didn’t mean no harm. Just thought she could use some company.”

Jamie doesn’t even look at him. His eyes are locked on yours, sharp and unyielding. “Ain’t that sweet?” he says, his voice soft, but his grip on your hip tightens, like he’s claiming a prize. “But I think she’s got all the company she needs.”

The man hesitates, looks like he’s weighing his options, then backs off with a muttered apology, disappearing into the crowd.

The world tilts again, and you’re struggling to stay upright. The bar fades around you, the noise drowning in the back of your mind. The room swims, and your vision blurs, the faces blending into nothing but shadows.

Jamie’s presence feels suffocating. His eyes linger on you, dark and intent, like he’s waiting for something. Like he’s testing you. And you know, deep down, that he doesn’t just hate you drinking—he hates you here, surrounded by people who aren’t him.

“Let’s get you home, darlin’.” His tone is almost gentle, but there’s an edge beneath it, something possessive and unyielding.

Before you can protest—before the room spins again—he’s there, pulling you into him, lifting you off your feet like you weigh nothing. His arms wrap around your waist, and the world blurs as you’re hoisted over his shoulder, carried out the bar like a prize he’s claimed.

The night air bites at your cheeks as he strides through the darkness, the cold wind cutting through the haze in your mind. You can feel his heartbeat, steady and sure beneath you, and his fingers grip your thigh, possessive and unyielding. He’s not letting you go.

Everything in you says to fight back, to push away, but he smells like home—like honey and oak. The world narrows down to him, the steady beat of his heart, the warmth of his touch.

“Man, you’re gettin’ heavy. Eating too much pumpkin pie, huh, sugarplum?”

“Fuck you,” you manage, but it’s weak, and the smile he gives you is sharp and satisfied.

You close your eyes, the world tilting again, and for a moment, you let yourself sink into it. Maybe this isn’t so bad.

Maybe this is just how it’s meant to be.

⠀⠀𐚁

⠀. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

©CozyMoko, all rights reserved. Don't repost my work on other platforms.

[monstersholygrail]

At the rodeo tonight and thinking hybrid thoughts right now…

Cowboys are automatically and naturally hot asf but make it Weredog Cowboys and you can make it so much more attractive. Wearing nothing but assless chaps and their cowboy hats.

Riding centaurs, using their crops as motivation and encouragement. Centaurs who act up and misbehave for the show, wanting the crop— even begging for it. Pushing them to their limits in tricks and otherwise.

And riding bull hybrids, on their backs or maybe somewhere else… Lassoing their horns and tying up their bodies. Doing anything to tame them and make them submit. Even if it takes fucking them into submission to get them to stop bucking.

Taking off their cowboy hats and placing them on the hybrids after they’ve succeeded. Staking claim on them and solidifying their victory against the feisty hybrids.

[toxooz]

🤠🚬

[thehauntedetheral]

Saw that requests were open. So how about a cowboy with a city girl reader who can’t do shit in the country side? Like girlie would die trying to get eggs from chicken nests or plow a field 😂🎀💅🏻

Yandere Cowboy x Reader 🤠

Requests are open!

You lived in city enjoying your life by shopping, spas, parties and spending your grandpa's money like crazy as you live with him. Your grandpa had it enough. Yes he has a hell lot of money but you should learn how to spend it wisely.

So he forcefully sends you to his farmhouse for your summer break in a town middle of nowhere. You were away from friends and with a poor internet connection. So you tried to find some thing to distract yourself only to find a handsome cowboy with his sturdy cowboy hat and boots living in your grandpa's farmhouse for maintenance.

He became your tour guide and showed you the ranch, farm and all the animals.

He did everything effortlessly. Feeding the cattles, taking out eggs from nest, farming. It wouldn't be so hard to do you thought only if you knew.

The next day you tried to get eggs from nest only to have hens pecking and running after you while yan cowboy simply shakes his head at you while having a silly smile plastered over his face.

You tried horse riding well what can I say the horse kicked you.

You thought about riding the tractor in farm but yan cowboy stopped you from harming yourself and the farm plants.

You thought you have already embarassed yourself more than enough infront of yan cowboy but you have no idea this boy is obsessed and madly in love with you.

He loves how you are willing to try new things .

He loves how you don't give up even after getting badly treated by animals.

Hens are running after you? No worries he will teach you.

You want to learn horse riding? He will personally sit behind you on horse for teaching purpose. Ofcourse not for the purpose to be close to you.

Slowly you two became friends.

Makes you breakfast.

You two take walks in the farm at evening.

Taking care of cattles together in ranch.

Going to grocery store together.

Hitting the local pub and dancing like idiots with each other.

Him and his accent just melts you into a puddle.

You love how he helps you, teaches you tricks on how to handle ranch.

You also love his athletic built and handsome face with his cowboy outfit.

Everything is going on beautiful but as the summer break ends you have to go back to city which is inevitable.

The day has arrived for your departure and you are ready to go home. You will miss this farmhouse but moreover you will miss him more. After all goodbyes are difficult.

You wished you can tell him about your feelings about how much you mean to him, how much you love him and will miss him but there is no meaning in saying it now as you both will be miles apart.

"Think I'll miss you forever

Like the stars miss the sun in the morning sky"

-Lana del rey (Summertime Sadness song)

Let me know through comments what you feel about this fic.

Requests are open!

For more yandere reading:

[delusionsofgrandeur13]

my masterlist

THE BATBOYS x YOU:

dick grayson/nightwing

ex boyfriend!dick grayson:

distraught // trouble // atonement

wayne heir!dick grayson (x socialite reader):

talk talk

cowboy!dick grayson:

blue on black

divorced dad!dick grayson:

love thy neighbor

former cheerleader!dick grayson:

be impressive, b-e impressive!

jason todd/red hood

your boyfriend!jason todd:

stories left untold

biker!jason todd:

shameless

tim drake/red robin

CASUAL:

prologue // chapter one // chapter two/two and a half // chapter three // chapter four // epilogue

wayne executive!tim drake:

headcanons

roy harper/arsenal/red arrow

pool boy!roy:

guilty pleasures

quick fics

your boyfriend!jason todd:

jason todd, but..

your boyfriend’s clothes

cuffed

just roommates

fwb!dick grayson:

apologize!

misc. batboys:

wanna see you undo it

moodboards

tim drake:

wayne executive!tim drake

emo boy!tim drake

dick grayson:

wayne heir

social media AUs

your boyfriend's instagram:

jason todd

wally west

dick grayson

roy harper / proud dad

damian wayne

tim drake

requests ..i'll do 'em when i do 'em

ex bf!tim drake returns

fluff w/ dg and jt

dick grayson x vigilante!reader

jason todd//size kink

love at first sight//cowboy!dg

hurt/comfort dick grayson

bruce wayne nsfw alphabet

divider courtesy of this lovely post

[upmost-rylan]

//FANART, Michael (Big Brother/BB) and Boyfriend BUT THEY ARE COW BOYS , (tags #art #fridaynighfunkin #Boyfriendfnf #fnf #bffnf #fnfbf #bigbrothermod #fnfbigbrother )

.

Listen,

they look good and I love them

Bonus regular BB cus yes

[toddandersontruther]

loml

[madwcman]

cowboy! remus fic when????

ac: sophithil and likeafunerall (both on insta)

edit: i made a cowboy! remus fic 🫣

[heavenbarnes]

i’ve spent nearly the whole day sewing the neighbour kids their halloween costumes- my back is shagged but they look so cute 🥹

[bakedbeanz]

Aint been drawing much lately cus of Artblock + Shit goin on in my life, but heres some Reds I've drawn last week :]

[cozymoko]

I really loved your yandere cowboy OC idea (Jamie) and is it possible to ask for a part 2 or something? You have me hooked👀

My Fancy Lady

Yes, anon!

Nav. Masterlist

𐚁 Pairing. Yandere! Cowboy x City Girl! Reader

𐚁 Warning(s). slight yandere themes, subtle jealousy from reader, overall just lovey-dovey though.

𐚁 Format, word count. Scenario, 2.2k words

𐚁 Synopsis. You're returning to your home back in the city, but you wouldn't dare go without your precious cowboy.

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

Jamie wasn't one for small talk—'less it was his woman doin' the talkin'. So, nights like this? Big ol’ fancy affairs? They weren’t his scene. He’d rather be anywhere else, maybe takin' on some honest work in town or catchin' a rodeo a few miles out. Hell, anything that didn’t have him stuffed into this stiff suit, collar chokin' him half to death.

But, reckon he had it comin’. You get yourself tangled up with a city girl, and suddenly you're wearin’ city clothes, trailed by folks who don’t know a lick about good, hard work. He couldn't help but stay close, though. With a pretty thing like you on his arm, he had to be. Men were wolves in these parts, sneakin' glances like they’d never seen a woman before—especially one who wasn’t theirs to look at. Made him chuckle under his breath. "What a damn shame."

Jamie stood across the ballroom, leaned up against the wall, one foot crossed over the other. He could’ve gone and greeted your folks, but Lord, your mama was a spitfire—firing off questions quicker than he could answer. He respected her, sure, and your pa too, but he’d rather keep what was left of his sanity. Just takin' in the sight of this place made his pockets ache.

Chandeliers dangled high above like crystal-studded stars, throwing soft light around the room. Gilded columns lined the walls, polished up so fine they seemed to look down on everybody else here. Tapestries hung alongside big, expensive-lookin' paintings—probably worth more than his whole ranch. The floor? It was slick as a lake after rain, shiny enough he’d bet a nickel it could trip even the steadiest cowboy.

Then there were the folks. Struttin’ around like proud peacocks, laughin' in polished tones that came off a little too uppity for his taste. Colors swirled around him—reds as bold as a fight, blues like icy temptation—colors he'd never even seen before danced across the floor. Reminded him a little of berries and fresh tomatoes, and just the thought got a chuckle outta him.

He’d never fit into this world, but it didn’t stop him from admirin’ its quirks now and then. Even so, this whole scene was like a country mile from his real life. He was just as sure he’d turn you into a cowgirl one day, but until then, he could appreciate the wonders of what money could do, even if he wouldn’t spend his hard-earned cash like this.

But there was one bright spot in all this: you.

There you were, right in the center of it all, falling into familiar voices and easy laughter. This was your world, and you looked like you belonged in it, talkin' to faces from your past who sized up the man beside you with curious glances. And yet, you smiled at them all—good and bad. Weren't you just the sweetest thing.

The cowboy stands across the ballroom, leaning against the wall, one foot tucked over the other. It's not that he didn't want to greet your folks, but your mama was a spitfire — hammering the two of you with more questions than he can count. He loved her, and your pa too, but he'd rather keep the last piece of his sanity tucked in his belt.

High society folks rubbed him wrong. Spoiled sons and daughters who’d had everything handed to 'em, struttin' through life without a lick of sense about hard work. Obnoxious, entitled, without a care for anyone who hadn’t grown up just like them. Jamie couldn’t stand it.

Yet somehow, out of all the men you coulda chosen, you picked him. What a thief, he thought with a quiet chuckle, his dark gaze never leavin' your face.

Course, he wasn’t all that innocent either—he’d done his damnedest to pull you away from this pampered life, wanted to whisk you off to the country, to his life, his world. And he’d caught you, good and proper. But that didn’t stop him from feelin' that familiar heat, the sharp taste of blood on his tongue from biting back the urge to snap at every wolf eyein' you tonight.

“Don't make a scene,” he murmured to himself like a man clingin' to a thin thread of patience.

He’d be lyin’ if he said he didn’t want you all to himself. Seein' you wrapped up in those fine silks, hair swept back in that way you liked best, lips painted in a soft color that made you glow... God, he wanted you. If he had it his way, you’d be in worn-out jeans, maybe one of his old flannels, smellin' of him and the wide open fields.

But he couldn’t tell you no. You hadn’t seen your family in months, and it just about broke his heart to see you so homesick. Jamie ain't one to go on about his old man, but if he learned one thing, it was this: happy wife, happy life. And you may not be his wife just yet, but he planned on changin' that real soon.

So to hell with all these other women, these high-class dames flittin' around the room. He didn’t care one bit about their money or their flirtin' glances. Jamie toyed with the silver pendant around his neck, tappin' his boot in time to the music.

Just then, a young woman drifted up, not much older than you, lips red as blood and curving into a sly smile. “Excuse me, sir,” she purred, “would you like to—”

“I’d be careful, sugar,” he cut in smooth, twirlin' his whiskey glass. “My wife fights. And I'd rather not see you back at your surgeon’s tonight.”

A crooked grin played on his lips as he raised his glass to his lips, his eyes catchin' yours across the room. There was only one woman he wanted on his arm, and she was wearin' a ring that matched his own.

You never thought you'd see him in a suit before your wedding, but it was quite the surprise — a pleasant one, at that.

Standing there in front of you, Jamie looked like he’d stepped right out of a magazine. Broad-shouldered, lean muscle wrapped in a midnight suit that clings just right, standing out among the tailored suits and smooth accents. The crisp white dress shirt only made his deep auburn hair look richer, slicked back smooth with every curl in place, and those dimples peeked out just as he caught you staring. His boots clack as he shifts, whiskey swirling in his hand, that silver band on his ring finger catching the glint of the chandelier. The sight of it alone sends any would-be admirer scuttling off with barely a second glance. He’s your plus one for the night, and the whole room knows it.

When he smiles, there’s a glint of trouble in his eyes, and those dimples—well, they could make even the stiffest folks around here swoon. He looks like the kind of man who just barely tolerates a tie, tugging at it with a smirk whenever he catches your gaze, as if to say, “You really think all this makes me any fancier?”

He’s still Jamie through and through: rugged under all that polish, with a bit of a roguish streak he could never quite hide. And tonight, even though he’s dressed up to meet your family and stand in this world of chandeliers and silk dresses, he’s every bit the man you fell for—charmingly untamed, with a quiet confidence that makes you weak in the knees.

Your friends try to pull you into old stories and polite gossip, but your eyes keep drifting back to him. Jamie’s gaze is steady, unwavering, as though he has little interest in the things around him. There’s a hint of a smirk playing at his lips every time he catches you staring, his dimples deepening, and that mischievous glint in his dark, loving eyes. You know that look too well. It’s possessive, fiercely protective, as if he’s daring anyone to even think about taking his bride-to-be.

The more you look at him, the more it pains you to look away. You try to play it cool, but he knows you too well—knew what to say, when to say it, and how to say it. It leaves you with thoughts from earlier in the day, making your knees weak all over again.

“My, my, he cleans up rather nicely,” a warm, familiar voice whistles beside you. “Don’t you agree, dear?” You jump, blinking back into the present, only to find your mother smiling knowingly.

“Distracted?” she teases, twirling you around to face her, an amused smile etched onto her red lips.

She glides past the group of dazzling damsels, fanning herself as she casts an appreciative glance toward Jamie. “Lord, honey,” she whispers in your ear, amused. “If he’s not about the most handsome thing I’ve ever seen—and the way he looks at you? It’s like he’s afraid the floor might steal you away.”

You laugh, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks, but her words are truer than she knows. Jamie tips his glass toward you from across the room, raising it in a silent toast. There’s something soft in his expression—a flicker of mirth in his dark eyes.

You almost let them drown you, submerge you in their warmth. If not for the grating sound to your left.

"Who might that be?"

"I haven't seen him around."

"Should I ask him for a dance?"

"Do you think he's spoken for?"

"Of course, look at the jewel on his finger!"

"I quite fancy him. Shall I pursue him anyways?"

"Oh, how shameful~!"

Some of the girls here are looking his way—of course, they are. Jamie has that rugged charm, like he was carved out of southern dirt and bathed in the evening sun, with the wild confidence of a man who knows he’s got nothing to prove. His auburn hair, slicked back in a style that both respects the occasion and still says he’s a cowboy first, gives him a sharp, roguish look that’s almost out of place here, like a tiger in a cage.

But despite the glances, the obnoxious remarks, no one dares approach him. The way his eyes follow you, even from a distance, says more than words ever could. He isn’t here to be seen; he’s here for you.

Yet, it doesn’t make it any easier to hold your tongue. You’ve hosted these parties since the age of fourteen and know how people behave here—their promiscuous ways, and the men who can’t help but leer. High-class harlots looking for any man to pounce on, taken or not. Greasy men following women’s every move, provoked or not. You remember too well. This was the yearly matchmaking party hosted by four of the wealthiest families in the city, your family being one of them. It wouldn’t look good if you didn’t attend the event your household had built its reputation around.

You knew Jamie would settle on keeping to himself, yet you hadn’t thought your rugged companion would be the talk of the party. That alone makes the joy blossoming in your chest wilt. For once, it feels as though he isn’t just your fiancé, but everyone’s. Of course, you want everyone to love him as much as you do—but without undressing him with their winged eyes.

Just then, Jamie makes his way over, his familiar smirk making your heart skip a beat. “Sugar,” he says, poking the soft flesh of your cheek, his eyes gleaming with a familiar, mischievous warmth. When he finally makes his way back to you, he tips his drink up, raising a brow. “Sugarplum.”

His words go in one ear and out the other, turning fuzzy and static as they pass through your mind. A deep frown settles at the corners of your lips as exasperation bubbles over.

“Jamie, stop it!” you huff, swatting his hands away. “You’ll ruin my makeup, you damn brute.”

“Yeah, yeah…” he murmurs, a lazy smile tugging at his lips. But he doesn’t bother moving his hand from the top of your head, his fingers gently brushing through your hair as if daring you to protest again. You turn away, cheeks flushed, doing your best to regain the poise you usually wear like a crown.

Jamie notices the pout you're trying to hide, his lips curling in amusement. For all your princess-like composure, you’re showing more than you realize tonight. He leans down, his voice low and teasing.

“Don’t pout, pumpkin. Fix your face.”

You glare up at him, crossing your arms, but he just chuckles, reaching for your hand. Before you can react, he pulls you closer, his grip firm yet careful, as if he were holding something precious.

“Remember, Sugar,” he murmurs, giving your kiss a long, playful smooch. MUAH! “You’re the main character.”

With a playful glint in his eye, he twirls you around, his hand never leaving yours as he guides you in a slow, elegant spin. You can’t help but let out a surprised laugh, your frown dissolving as he twirls you like with practiced ease.

Only then had you decided.

That night was quite the surprise indeed—

A pleasant one at that.

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[dast4rd]

paid the price

[toxooz]

The Devil's Bounty Hunter