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cozymoko · 3 months ago

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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

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thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch · 1 month ago

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Hi hi hii! I hope all is well with you :3 I really enjoy your Boothill fics, they bring me so much joy! If it's possible, could I request something?

I've had this idea in my mind about mechanic!reader overworking themselves, not eating, sleeping, or hydrating as they should be as they can forget to tend to their own needs at times...(sadly you can't solely sustain yourself on candy and sugar)

Then Boothill comes to visit them and finds mechanic!reader in an exhausted state, basically forcing them to eat actual food and rest up.

a/n: 1.8k w.count - cw!!: mentions of being awake a long time and not eating!!

boothill just finished up two different jobs he was on, one solo and another pitching in to help a pal that was conveniently in the area. after such hard and capable work, he figures he's owed a quick pass by your shop. that, and something in the back of his head was nagging at him to swing by- and it wasn't because of his neuro-chip.

stepping through the shop's entrance, the door pushes open and the bell above the door chimes. before he can open his jaw and call out to you, searching you out in the premise, he instead starts yelling in shocked noises.

from above, a small mass of something emerges from the shadows of the ceiling. the exposed pipes that line the walls are the perfect place for something small, like critters or rodents, to trek and hide on.

the cowboy half expected a racoon or something to land on his head. what he didn't expect was the feeling of metal bashing into his face instead of a mass of fur and talons.

"son of a-!" he almost fully curses. taking two steps back in lieu of the 'attack', he raises his hand and grabs the metal clinging onto his face and hair. "get offa' me!" he hisses.

the sound of familiar beeps has him using his grip a bit more carefully. working on cooling down his insides that had been fired up into a friendzy, boothill successfully pulls ore off of his face to look at him properly.

"the hell do you think you're doin', eh lil fella?" the little assistant robot that usually stuck to you like glue flails in the air as boothill holds him between his finger and thumb by the sides of his rectangular head.

the expression the robot has on its face was accompanied by it's flinging arms and legs: [＞﹏＜]!!

"ey, ey, ey, lil dude, chill out."

boothill marches to the desk that acts less like a reception desk and more like a display counter. setting ore down, its flailing stops but the squeezed expression stays put. the cyborg bend at the waist, laying one of his arms over the counter to get- more or less- eyelevel with the little helper with the other going to his hip.

"okay, what's the problem. where's your fixer?" boothill asks. its a joke between the two of you that you act more like ore's guardian than owner. so, in regard to your identity, to ore you became his 'fixer'. ore points one of its metal coated arms behind him and one of its legs stomps. "in that back?" ore nods. "alright, let's go check on 'em shall we?"

ore, instead of taking a ride on boothill's shoulder or being carried in his palm, hops from the counter and rushes around through the doorways that you always keep propped open during shop hours. boothill struts his way through the shop, leisurely following the fella.

as he makes his way through the shop, boothill finally notes the lack of noise he's so used to hearing. no knocking on metal, or drilling of tools. no hint of work, not even your murmuring echoed through the building. it was just quiet.

well now he's just starting to worry.

adding a half-step to his stride, boothill follows the beeping provided from ore and finds himself coming through the cracked doors of your far back work room.

ore is already up on your desk thanks to your installation of small metal-sheeted pullies you made for it. its standing by your head that rests on your arms, folded over your desktop. both of its arms push against your skull, fretting in digital sounds.

walking in, boothill makes his way to your back, placing a gentle touch to the space between your shoulders. his free hand pushes against your desktop, leaning over to try and see if your face was peeking out of your arm pillow situation at all. you were out like a light, but you should be sleeping in bed.

"ey, sugar," boothill softly calls. his hand rubs against your back, rustling your shirt to try gently coaxing you awake. it gets him no where. "hey," he tries again. with a bit of a harsher shake of your shoulder, you bolt upwards. with a gasp from both you and boothill, ore stumbles backward onto its metal backend from the force in which you eject him from your skull. you whip your head back and forth, blinking wearily and rapidly before you finally register boothill's arrival.

"the hell, when did you get here?" your voice is groggy and rushed, and if the ranger hadn't just jostled you awake from your desk, he'd find it pretty cute.

"does it matter? why the hell you sleepin' at your desk? you have a bed."

"what? oh, no, it's fine." you rub your palms into your eyes, blinking back the black splotches it causes when you pull them away. "i just dozed off in the middle of something."

"uh huh." boothill is unconvienced. "you wouldn't be neglectin' your needs just for some work, now would yah?"

"what? no. no, i'm fine. perfectly healthy."

"i didn't ask if you were healthy." you don't offer him anything more and he sighs. shifting his weight, he puts on hand on his hip. "ore," he beckons the robot and it answers with a beep. "when's the last time your fixer here took care of themself?" there's a spinning dial on his digital screened face before a number pops up.

[21 hours ago !!]

boothill's jaw drops in disbelief.

your jaw drops in betrayal.

you jump from your stool, palms against your worktable while ore's 'face' lights up with exclamation points [!!!!!] before scampering away from your ire.

"are you serious right now?" boothill bites as you look over your shoulder at him. his arms are crossed, and a frown settles on his lips. it's rare you're on the receiving end of a scolding since it's usually you telling him off for being reckless or the like when he comes in for repairs. you kind of hate it to be honest.

"it's fineee," you draw out, huffing as you run your hand over your face. you have a headache, and standing up so quickly didn't help.

boothill clicks his tongue. clearly you were in no mood to listen. it dawns on him that ore's little attack from the entrance was probably him trying to persuade potential clientele away so you could rest. but seeing boothill come through the doors, the robot instead took his arrival as his saving grace.

boothill is a hardened galaxy ranger. but he also happens to be a big softie too.

"have it your way," the cowboy shrugs before pushing you away from your workstation by your shoulder. getting just enough distance between you and your job, he bends at his knees, hooks one of his arms around your side and hoists you up. you find yourself face first against his back with his tattered, red scarf brushing your cheek.

you feel and hear the contraptions and hinges in his body hiss and work to accomodate your weight over his shoulder.

"boothill!" you push your palms against the dip of his back, pushing your body up as much as you can as he starts carting you off.

"ore, be a lil' helper and grab your fixer something to put in their stomach. one of them small shakes or somethin' will do." ore, with its marching orders, obeys and dashes off once again. you almost regret that you programmed ore to obey boothill too.

in truth, boothill would prefer food in your stomach, but ore is about 2 fists tall. a prepackaged supplement from your fridge will have to suffice.

you don't fight him as much as he expected as he marches to your room where he rolls you off his shoulder and onto your mattress. landing with a soft thud, you dont have time to recover before he's throwing a pillow from the floor at your face.

"umph! hey, quit it!" you hiss, pushing the pillow aside. the ranger takes a seat at the foot of your bed as you shuffle to sit up and bring your legs in so he doesn't crush them. his knees are perched apart and his arms crossed. he watches the door, saying nothing, waiting for ore to come in. "are you really upset about this?"

"do i seem happy?" he shoots back.

"you dont need to get lippy with me," you bite as he rolls his eyes.

"i apparently do. not taking care of yourself properly? you can't be doing that, sugar." his scolding tone softens the more he talks. seeing how high strung he is about this, you feel almost guilty. you start picking at the fabric of your shirt.

ore soon brings you in something to consume that's better than nothing at all and helps sooth the post-sleep irritation in your throat. you didn't realize how scratchy it felt until you were forced to.

you're not sure when it happens, but at some point boothill has you laying down properly in your bed with a new change of clothes. and not too much later, you're sleeping before you could even try to fight back.

ore takes the empty container that was once full of your meal substitute and trots off to discard of it. boothill sits at the edge of your bed, where he's been planted the whole time. the cowboy observes you from a lean, his elbows resting on his metal knees.

you're breathing easy, which is good, but he still grimaces at the tiredness gathered under your closed, relaxed eyes. with your face washed of muck and soot, he can see your fatigue clearer.

boothill groans quietly, lowering his head as one of his hands comes to brush the hair off the side of his face and ruffle the strands together, definitely knotting it up. when he brings his hand back down, he winces when some strands pull from his scalp- his whole head is sensitive, so he should've known better.

when it seems like you're down for the count and won't wake up the moment he leaves you alone, boothill stands from your bed. the blanket is rumpled from where he's been sitting, and the impression of his presence is visible to his one good eye. oddly, it's comforting.

lifting his hat, he swings it down off his head and sets it gently on your bed side table that's littered with all sorts of odd and ends. along with a barely working alarm clock that has one of the digital numbers flickering in and out. you'll have to rewire that soon. he leaves it with you as he dismisses himself to let you rest.

beyond your bedroom, ore beeps and bops with noises as boothill sits at the reception desk. his legs crossed at the ankles and propped up on the desk with his arms crossed as he... talks? with ore.

any customer that walks in is met with a mean glare and a harsh 'get out' before he's shooing them out the door.

his nine-mililmeter is only on the desk next to him for some.... extra incentive.

a/n pt.2: i tried incorporating a few of ore's expressions with emoticons. is that lame? too cheesy? who knows. i love that little robot tho. [anyways sorry this rq took so long anon hnnnnng]

#boothill x reader #boothill fluff #boothill comfort #boothill hurt/comfort #boothill angst #boothill x you #boothill x y/n #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail boothill #boothill hsr #hsr boothill #hsr #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr x y/n

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chasedbyatlantic · 11 months ago

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puppy love, joel miller

summary: IN WHICH — when joel is upset, you do anything and everything in your power to cheer him up. this means showing him your new guitar skills, while singing one of his favourite songs to him.

warnings: post outbreak!joel, jackson!joel, implied relationship, gender!neutral reader, sub!joel, lovey dovey joel and reader, ellie being a little shit once again, swearing, literally all fluff because i can, brief mention of death/killing (very very brief! shows up like two times), bad descs of guitar playing since i haven't played in like 10 years LOL, lmk if i missed anything!

wordcount: 2.3k

a/n: my second fic!!!!! i sort of love this one?? also tysm for the love on my first! looking for moots too! hmu if you wanna <3 make sure to reblog, like, and comment on this plz and thank u! if u have any requests for a fic lmk (dms r open for it!) more to come soon xoxo

—

God only knew what time it was. You had an infuriating day at work, training all new people on how to successfully patrol Jackson's surrounding areas, and how to not- well, die. This was always your least favourite time of year, to say the least. All the "fresh meat" had been selected to be potential patrolers, and they had to go through extensive training to make sure they were one hundred percent qualified and committed to the role.

Both you and Joel were practically put into this role by Maria (Joel's sister-in-law), not by force, but more of a "you would be doing the entire Jackson community a whole favour if you did this" sort of thing - guilt, most would say. Maria had even tried to get Ellie to help train people, but Joel almost killed Maria by his glare when she brought it up to the two of you.

Even though you hated this role in the community, you think Joel liked it. He had a bit too much fun getting to put kids in check, and humble them big time. At least it was only for a few months, you had kept reminding yourself. The few months were from early June until late September, though - the hottest months of the year. The before dawn wake up calls, and after dusk ends would only last for another month, since it was sometime in the middle of August right now.

After getting home extremely late, around an hour or two ago, you had already taken a shower and changed into more comfortable clothes before you went and sat on your back porch. Even though you didn't want to be outside anymore than you had to right now, Ellie had one of her friends over and wanted privacy. You love the kid, so you gave her the privacy (not much privacy, only hanging out in the living room of your home).

You were able to tell Joel was finished with his shower when you heard high-pitched and muffled screams coming from inside the house behind you. Just as you went to turn your head around to see what exactly the commotion he was causing inside was, the familiar figure of Joel Miller left the glass door, with the door slamming shut behind him. "Everything alright in there, cowboy?" You hummed to him as the nickname rolled off your tongue, scooching over on the step you were seated on to give the man some room to sit.

"Fucking Christ," He started as he took a seat next to you, "they were paintin' their nails, or somethin'. Said I wasn't allowed anywhere near 'em in that room, or they'd be off with me." Joel had grunted once he was completely lowered on this step, his bones weren't as good as they used to he would say.

This earned a snort from you, "No way- Ellie's paintin' her nails? Your girl's really growin' up, Joel." You couldn't believe she was doing this, to be honest. Ellie had stated to both you and Joel that she was not girly whatsoever, and would rather turn into a clicker than wear a dress or do her makeup. After you had said this to Joel, he looked to be upset. He didn't want Ellie growing up, his girl growing up. "Joking, joking."

He took his eyes off of you, and moved them forward. "Nah, you're right," Joel had sighed, "she won't need me soon. Soon she'll-" He had trailed off, quiet now. Fuck- why did you bring this up, you had thought to yourself. You could only place your hand on Joel's thigh. "She'll always need you, Joel. Shit, she'd be death without ya'. Lighten up a bit baby, she ain't going anywhere."

Joel knew it was true, he was just having a really emotional moment right now, it was most likely from being up since five in the morning. "Dunno 'bout that." He had only muttered, placing his hand over yours. You tsked, putting some pressure on his thigh as you got up in an awkward fashion. "Where are ya'-"

"I have an idea, hold on." You had cut him off, making your way back inside. You were engulfed by the sounds of laughter as soon as you stepped foot through the patio door. You were silent about it, not wanting to bother Ellie or her friend. You had silently moved to the house's spare room, where the three of you put anything and everything. You had grabbed what you were looking for almost instantly (it had a distinct shape) and made your way back outside.

Joel turned his head once you had stepped outside again, his eyes moving down to what you had in hand, then gaining eye contact. "Is that my-" he couldn't even finish his sentence. You grinned as you pulled the lawn chair over, placing the case on the floor and unlatching the sides. You had picked up the piece of polished wood and string and placed the curved part on top of your knee.

"Okay so," You had started as Joel turned around to give you his full attention. He looked handsome like this- more than handsome, actually. The way the dull light from inside of your home highlighted his face almost perfectly- ugh, you couldn't get enough of it. "From all of the, sort of, free time I have had in the last few months, I decided to sort of, really badly, learn a few songs?" It came out more of a question than it did a statement, and Joel took notice of this with only a laugh in return.

"Anything ya' play'll be gorgeous, baby." Joel could only look at you in complete awe; if he didn't love you one hundred percent before, he sure as fuck did now. Instead of sitting down, Joel stood up and was now leaning against the wooden beam behind him. He towered over you, only inches away- this got you on even more of an edge.

"Okay, please don't kill me if I don't get the chords right- I don't think I read the notes properly." You awkwardly chuckle as you avoid eye contact with Joel at the current second. Joel knows a guitar from the inside-out, but even if you messed up, he would not care at all. You took the time to learn his favourite instrument, and this only put him in an ecstatic mood.

"Pick a number one through three." You told him as you move your left hand up the neck, and your right arm drooped over the body. "Three." He replied almost too fast, he was just so eager to hear you play.

You brought your fingers through the strings before you started, making sure it was in tune. You glance up towards Joel, "It's in tune, right?" You ask him. A chuckle escapes his lips as he nods, "Don't worry baby, it is."

You (unfortunately) tore your eyes apart from Joel's as you focus on both your left and right hands now. Multitasking was hard for you before this, so you struggled a bit to play. You inhale slowly, placing your fingers on the top three strings on the fingerboard. You strum from both left and right, meeting to the middle string as the first chord.

"And they called it puppy love," your voice was quiet and sounded more hoarse than relaxed, which you mentally slapped yourself for. Before hounding yourself about it even more, you had to focus on changing the chords another four times as you repeated the strumming rhythm.

"Oh, I guess they'll never know," There wasn't any moving, or talking, or breathing (from the sound of it) from Joel. He was just- mesmerized, mesmerized by what you had been doing with your fingers, with your voice, with everything. If the world hadn't gone to shit, you most definitely would've had a big breakout as an up-and-coming music star, he had thought to himself.

"How a young heart, how it really feels, and why I love him so," You had changed the lyrics, and Joel noticed - you changed "her" to "him". Honestly, Joel only noticed because it was you singing it (and he loved you deeply), and that whenever he would spend time with his grandfather when he was little, this song was played a million times. Had he ever told you about his love for this song, or was it just a coincidence?

"And they called it puppy love," You repeated yourself, emotion starting to seep through your voice. "Just because we're seventeen," If you weren't so lost in your train of thought, of remembering where to put your fingers for the next chord, and the correct strumming pattern, and the lyrics, you would've noticed Ellie and her friend silently sneak out onto the porch.

"Tell them all, it isn't fair. To take away my only dream," You had paused strumming for a single second, it sounded like a dramatic pause in Joel's eyes. You had just completely lost your breath from a combination of singing and nerves. After the (painfully long, you thought) second was over, you started once again.

"I cry each night, my tears for you. My tears are all in vain," The chord pattern you had going changed for the last time, and your strums started to sound quiet, your voice dying out while all of this happened. Joel took notice of this, standing up completely now (from leaning against the wooden beam behind). The two girls behind you were still so silent, almost just as mesmerized with you as Joel was.

"Oh, I'll hope and pray, that maybe someday," You inhale as your thumb starts to brush down from the highest string to the lowest string, "You'll be back in my arms once again." A loud exhale falls through your mouth, followed by the two girls bursting out with clapping and compliments. This does nothing short than scaring the absolute fuck out of you, causing the guitar to slip out of your grip.

Luckily, with Joel being completely focused on you, he had came to the rescue and snatched the guitar before it had fell on the ground. You shoot him an apologetic look before turning around to the two girls, he just looks at you with understanding eyes. "You guys almost made me drop the fuckin' thing- how long were you there for?" You question them, eyeing between the two. Their clapping hands were now silent and playing with their thumbs, almost nervous from you.

"Ya' know what, it doesn't matter. Inside- go, it's bedtime." You had scolded the two, as if you were their mother. Ellie's friend had opened her mouth to say something, but was cut off by Ellie gripping her hand and yanking her back inside. You start to turn back to face Joel, after snapping. "Fuck, we can never have a minute of fuckin' sile-".

He cut you off by smashing his lips into yours. He was acting as if though he was touch deprived, if he hadn't seen you for years. You two just move in sync for what feels like forever (not that you're complaining, though), before you pull away.

Before you have the chance to say anything, Joel brings you to your feet and sets the guitar down on your previous seat, embracing you in a tight hug. You can feel his rough facial hair on the exposed parts of your neck as he exhales, you definitely don't mind. "I needed that more than anythin', darlin'." He admits to you.

"Anythin' for my favourite person." You remind him, bringing your hand to the back of his head. It was true, you would do anything for this man. You would steal for him, kill for him, anything he wanted.

The sun was threatening to peak through the moonlit skies, you knew you two had to be up and about soon enough, but that didn't stop you. You were laying in bed together, tangled between each other's arms. The covers were kicked off your shared bed, and a small breeze cruising the room every so often from the open windows.

"I think it's true." You had broken the comfortable silence that filled the room. Joel didn't move from his position (half of his body on you), just hummed with his eyes staying shut. "What is, baby?"

"The song- fuck, I don't want to sound cheesy or nothin'." You admit, before continuing, "You just, ya' know, I love you's all." You send a small squeeze through Joel's hand, that vibrates his entire body. This results in him dropping your hand and lifting it to wrap around your chest. "Nothin' cheesy 'bout that." His voice was even more hoarse than when you had lost your fears of singing in front of someone, in front of Joel. You now went silent, just loving his embrace.

"Darlin'?" He now broke the silence after a minute or two, eyes still shut and not moving whatsoever. You gave a hum in response, just like he did earlier. "Ya' said to pick a number between three before ya' played earlier, were the other options real?" This was your favourite, vulnerable Joel.

"It was, and before you ask-" you pause, bringing your hand to the back of his head, just like earlier. You ran your fingers through his restless curls. "-I'll play the rest for ya'. Promise." Joel had obviously liked this answer, as he responded with a sloppy kiss to your collarbone.

You would learn every lyric in the world, every chord in the world, every strum in the world, just for Joel to be happy. You didn't want anything more in this world than for him to be happy. If he was happy, so were you.

puppy love, paul anka

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hippolotamus · 7 months ago

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“I see you” tag game

Thanks for the tags @spotsandsocks for this lovely tag game brought to us by Angsty Sunshine Personified @steadfastsaturnsrings

Rules: list at least one (ideally a wip, fic idea but a finished fic will work too if you can’t think of a wip or fic idea) that someone has written/come up with that you are obsessed with. Tag the writer and link the work (if applicable) and give a sentence (or more :) ) about what you love about the work/idea!

Disclaimer: The purpose of this is to not make writers stressed out or feel obligated to finish their WIPs but rather show them that we see them and we love them and their writing so much that we still think about their works even if they may have not published in awhile. ❤️

Strap in, kids (I'm positive I'm missing some (and I'm so sorry if yours is one of them) but...)

three taps for the Lombardi (aka NFL Buck) by @wildlife4life

drag queen!eddie from @giddyupbuck

Electrostatic Attraction from my beloved @shortsighted-owl

non-verbal Buck, mental health helpline and cockwarming fic from @loveyouanyway

cupid!Buck from @tizniz

vampire!Buck prequel from @saybiwithme

fratboy au and soulmates au from my wife @bidisasterevankinard

indie band!Patrick from @stereopticons

forever obsessed with basement ghost!patrick by @filet-o-feelings

all the psych buddie rewrites from @kitteneddiediaz

fantasy au from @daffi-990 also incredibly obsessed with stuck now so long, we just got the start wrong

buddietommy ballet au, doctor au, sleepy mornings, frostpunk au from @diazsdimples

buddie couples therapy from @your-catfish-friend

obsessed with this can't be love by @prettyboybuckley

alright, cowboy, go get 'em by @thewolvesof1998

sci fi of doom wip from @thekristen999

@jesuisici33... oh, honey, where do I begin? you have my heart, incubus!eddie, bachelorette au, demon!Buck/angel!Eddie, so on and so forth

buddie pirate au from @bi-buckrights

broke my own heart from the keepers of my fragile hippo heart @elvensorceress and @eddiebabygirldiaz

nesting!Eddie and a foundation of trust and love by @lemonzestywrites

Knives To The Chest (And Into My Heart) by @watchyourbuck

Buddie NHL au from @exhuastedpigeon

HOA!Eddie from @sunshinediaz

deaf!buck au from @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy (I don't honestly know if that's still the correct url or if that author is doing any writing anymore but goddamn do I miss that wip)

If you see this and wanna play, consider this your tag 💖

#i see you tag game #tag game #hippo gets tagged #i was going to leave a 'why i like it' blurb for all of them #until i realized we'd be here a while #but if you ask me i will let you know what i adore about the ones i listed #fandom positivity

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1moreoffkeyanthem · 1 year ago

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Aight here’s a few of my favorite SP fics that no one asked for

I’m generally more of a one shot kinda lad but since getting into South Park I’ve read SO MANY GREAT longer ones so here’s just some highlights: (all on ao3)

Ship In A Bottle FayOfTheForest. One of the first sp AU’s I read, we got PIRATES. HOMOEROTIC SWORD FIGHTING. WLW CREEK. SLOW BURN STYLE. (Injured stan my beloved) KENNY. BUNNY. The parents SUCK. Literally such a kickass story!

This House of Mine by OrcaTimes. VIOLENCE. GANG ACTIVITY. CREEK. I really love the characterization of everyone in this fic, especially Craig. Seriously man. Also THE K2 IN THIS SLAYS (we got some PRIME Kyle injury too god I love him) THE ENDING IS SO SATISFYING TOO!!!

Peppermint by boxwinebaddie. Bro. Literally my all time favorite style fic. I’m so serious. The writing and story are BEAUTIFUL LIKE SO FUCKING AMAZING The PINING. THE HEADCANONS. I COULD GO ON FOR HOURS. Pls if you check out any of my Recs READ THIS ONE.

Maybe For Real This Time & The Kids Are Alright by WeirdBBQDad. Dude. I have no words other than KENNY FUCKIN MCCORMICK. Also Style. Also families. Just- just check it out.

Hang ‘Em High by littledeathsinmusicalbeds. Cowboy au. Creek. Established Style. Bounty hunter Kenny. Massive slay.

The Thief Trilogy by wintergrew. WHEN I SAY IT LIVES IN MY HEAD RENT FREE. The world building is PHENOMENAL literally my favorite SOT AU OF ALL. Long as hell, but SO worth the read holy fuck. I adore Stick Of Truth.

You’re The Prettiest Boy I’ve Ever Seen by burnt_pancakes. CREEK. STYLE. MISCOMMUNICATION. BUNNY. KENNY IN GENERAL. the friendships in this are PERFECT.

Your name written upon mine by sooduhnim. SOT STYLE. Soulmate au that’s INCREDIBLE seriously I love this one and can’t wait for an update.

How We Began by PastorCraigEnjoyer. Ok yes I’m cringy as shit for the self promo but this is my favorite long fic that I’ve written. Slow burn SOT STYLE, no war just fantasy gays falling in love, injury, sickfic, all my favorite bullshit and I loved writing it ok.

N1SM by kiritila. A classic in the fandom. Style. A masterpiece.

Between the Sinners and the Saints by KaiterTot. Oh. My. God. When I say this one altered my brain chemistry… THE ENDING DUDE HOLY-

A Few Last Wolves by Jwink85. Yes, I am a resident of the State Of Style by way of Creek Nation but this is Cryle. And it’s a slay. If y’all liked Frank and Bills episode in TLOU, it’s kind of an au of that. It works man.

Winter Butterfly ALSO by Jwink85 and ALSO Cryle. What can I say it’s incredible. The Style in the beginning is CUTE until shit hits the fan, too, and I thought this fic was a really interesting take on all the characters and relationships. I adore Tweek in this one too.

Something Sweet Like Honey by bluebryy. Ok this one is unsettling and creepy Craig makes me feel icky but I cannot WAIT for an update on that fic, I got my fingers crossed for Style endgame. Also CHECK OUT THEIR ART ON HERE they converted me to a short king Kyle truther and it’s a slay tbh.

Ladies and Gentleman We Are Floating In Space by gremlinteeth. A classic. The first sp multi chapter I read. THE LORE BRO. CREEK. STYLE. STANS CHARACTERIZATION GOES SO HARD HES MY BOIIIII

Ok. That’s all my recs for now. Sry for being insane.

#fandom #south park #style #fanfiction #creek #au #stick of truth #ao3 fanfic #sp bunny #south park kenjorine #fic rec #i’m insane #sp fic #cryle #recommendations #south park k2

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ladyeyrewrites · 3 months ago

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Buck To The Beginning

I'm posting the Buck time travel fic I started working on at the end of May.

Chapter 1: Déjà Vu Gone Haywire

“Chimney, Buck, Eddie. You guys are on ladder duty,” Bobby says as they hop down from the truck at the scene of an apartment fire. It’s pouring rain and the entire shift has been peppered with calls involving dry lightning. “I want you to get up to that window and hit it. Let’s go!”

Buck’s brain switches to work mode, shoving aside all thoughts of the almost family-like family dinner he’d shared with his parents the night before and how strangely normal it had all been. How supportive they’d been of his decision to be Connor and Kameron’s sperm donor, which he, frankly, hadn’t expected. Once they have this fire under control, he’ll think more about what Bobby said about life being too short to take family relationships for granted. But for now, he has a ladder to climb.

All this rain isn’t going to make the climb any easier, especially if he lets himself get distracted.

Chim protests as Buck approaches the ladder truck, already harnessed, rain driving down around them. “Ah. No way you got the last one,” says Buck. There’s a niggle in the pit of his stomach, a sense of unease that he can’t ignore, telling him that Chimney should not go up the ladder. Maybe it’s just his brain being weird or a sixth sense or something. Or maybe he’s feeling a bit competitive. It’s hard to say.

“Didn’t realize you were keeping track,” says Chim.

Buck pushes down that strange foreboding feeling and quips back as Eddie secures Buck’s harness to a line, “Come on, Chim, it’s me. I’m always keeping track.”

“Alright, Cowboy, go get ‘em,” Eddie says.

“Alright.” Buck begins the climb, keeping three points of contact on the ladder as he goes. As he climbs higher, Buck hears shouts coming from the engulfed level of the apartment building. He’s barely aware of the thunder sounding with the roar of the fire and the plunk of the rain pounding his helmet, while below his teammates attempt to evacuate the building.

Buck reaches the top of the ladder, secures his line and aims the hose at the flames. He opens the valve, and water rushes out in a highly pressurized stream.

A crackling sound catches his attention and Buck pauses, turning his head towards the storm clouds, his helmet light cutting a beam through the streaming rain. The sky bursts with light and the feeling in Buck’s gut intensifies as he watches the clouds. “What the hell is that?”

The clouds turn blue. Thunder roars. There’s a flash. Something knocks Buck off his feet, flipping him off the ladder. The hose falls from his hands. Pain lances through him, centered around his chest.

Everything goes dark.

“Okay, Buck start chest compressions. Hen start bagging him,” Bobby says.

Buck squints against the sudden stream of sunshine. He’s walking through a pair of French doors towards a pristine pool with a burbling fountain in it. Bobby and Hen are just ahead of him as he carries a back board in one hand and a bag of medical supplies in the other. At the opposite end of the pool a woman in a colorful beach coverup performs CPR on a shirtless teenager.

If not for his training, this would be the moment where Buck stops in his tracks, confused, wondering where all the rain went, what that flash of light was, how it’s suddenly a bright sunny day when a heartbeat ago it was the middle of a dark and stormy night, and why all of this seems vaguely familiar. But there’s no time for that. There’s a drowning victim to tend to.

Read more on Ao3

#9 1 1 fanfiction #pre-relationship bucktommy fic #bucktommy #tevan #bucktommy fic #evan buck buckely #time travel buck fic

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 1 month ago

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Hit ‘Em Up! (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Cowboy!Gojo Satoru x Cowboy!Geto Suguru x Black!Cowgirl!Reader (Slow Burn/Enemies to Lovers)

Synopsis: You get to meet Geto & Gojo the Gunslingers, the notorious outlaws that have every town and law enforcement in a twist, when your bum-ass BF offers you as payment to avoid going to prison. Little do they know that this is only a part of your plan to get what you desire. But when you realize that the infamous gun-slinging, smooth-talking cowboys could be everything you want and more when they offer you a deal to team up with them, will you successfully be able to go through with it?

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINOS GTFO); poly!SatouSugu; Reader is Black & Fem; Mention of other JJK characters; Porn with Plot; Tragic Backstories; T/W for Childhood Trauma, Parental Death, Violence, Panic Attacks & Torture; Angst/Hurt/Comfort; Hand Kink; Masturbation; Voyeurism; Gay Sex; Polyamorous; Double Deepthroat; Mutual Oral; Fingering; CMNF; Spitroast; Riding; Unprotected PiV Sex; Creampies; Outside/Public Sex; Shotgunning; Multiple Positions; Spit Kink; Facials; MDom/fsub Undertones; Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: LMAOOO I haven’t written action sequences in a minute so this one took me at least 5 days to write. I had to stop, come back to it, stop again & then come back when I came up with something good. Writing action shit is HARD. I hope it’s not too terrible tho 🥺🥺 pls be nice to me -Jazz

Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen PT I & II. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-One. Twenty-Two. Twenty-Three. Twenty-Four. Epilogue + Soundtrack.

**********

TWENTY-TWO: UNTAMEABLE.

Your friends end up staying for longer than three days.

While staying at their bed and breakfast, Shoko, Yuki, and Choso spend every single day of their trip with you. Their visit turns into a week of shopping, drinking, and constant laughter. It is exactly what you need…including times with Nanami.

You call them ‘times’ because that is what they are according to you: times of laughter, friendship building, and fun. You’ve met him at the library, bars, restaurants, cafes, out in the pastures for horseback riding. You’ve even visited him at his job to have lunch with him.

Shoko called them ‘dates’ to which you always ignored, but deep down, you know that your denial won’t last long. You can’t deny that Nanami is a handsome man. Respectful, kind, and chivalrous. A total package. You have begun to cherish him a whole lot more since Geto and Gojo left. He has been there for you, always checking in on you and your family. You feel that maybe he could be something more, but so far, you’ve been ignoring those thoughts.

And it’s all because of two people.

After the week ends, you go with your friends to the train station and wait with them as the afternoon train to Bull’s Creek pulls up on the tracks. Dressed in their traveler’s finest, Yuki, Choso, and Shoko squeeze you in a group hug as people begin to board the train.

“Don’t be a stranger, alright, partner?” Choso jokes. “We swore you were dead all this time.” Yuki scoffs, smacking her partner’s chest. “He’s kiddin’, but seriously, Y/N, come and visit us once your quest is done…and once Nanami gives you a big, fat ring.”

She wiggles her brows at you, making you roll your eyes. “Will do,” you say as they begin to board, Choso carrying the luggage with ease. “And y’all had better invite me to the wedding once that proposal comes through!”

Yuki waves at you, her blonde hair flying in the breeze as Choso helps her on the train. You then turn to Shoko, already feeling pained at her departure and she hasn’t left yet. “Well,” you sigh, “this is it. Ya sure ya can’t stay for another week?”

Shoko puts a hand on her hip, smirking. “And leave Todo to fend for himself at the saloon?” she chuckles. “Nah. That boy may look intimidatin’, but you know his ass can barely handle himself.” You giggle at the mental image of Todo, missing your favorite security guard.

Your friend gives you a smile, looking around the train station where activity buzzes left to right. “You’ve got a nice little life here, hon.” It is a simple statement; one that you know is true and factual. You have a great family, three square meals a day, freedom to do as you wish. So why do you feel such a vacant feeling in your chest when she says it?

“What?” You sigh, already sensing a lecture from Shoko. She looks like she doesn’t even want to go down that road, but unfortunately, God cursed her to be the voice of reason for you. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Y/N,” she begins, “and you don’t have to agree, but I can’t help but think that this may not be enough for ya in the long run. There were times I’d look over at you and you’d look so far away…like ya were somewhere else.”

Her eyebrows draw together in concern. You don’t admit it or deny it, mostly because you can’t remember most of those moments. You were drunk most of the time you were with your friends this week anyway, but it still seems realistic. You’ve even caught yourself doing the same thing by yourself. You’d zone out and go somewhere else, your mind traveling far, far away.

Shoko leans in as if she’s telling you a secret and you know what she’s about to say next. “This got anythin’ to do with Geto and Gojo?” she hushedly asks. “Did somethin’...happen between y’all?”

The way she lingers slightly between the words makes it clear that she knows exactly what happened. You didn’t talk about the Gunslingers at all with your friends and you had hoped neither one of them would bring it up. Of course, Shoko saves it until she’s about to leave.

“Only a very bad, very drunk mistake,” you answer, your tone way more bitter than you liked. “But that was then and they’re gone now. I have to move on, Shoko.” You look past her to the train, steam rolling out of its engine.

“And you’re right about that, but that hurt is still in here.” She presses a finger to your chest. “And a quiet little life and a hot doctor can only do so much to cure that.” Deep down, you know that, but to hear it come from a friend irks you for some irrational reason. “So what do you expect me to do, Shoko?” you deadpan. “Ride off to find ‘em and demand answers from ‘em? I don’t even know where they are!”

Your voice raises along with your frustrations, but the sound of the train whistle carries your voice away. It’s almost time to go. Shoko sighs, pressing her lips into a thin line. “I’m not tellin’ you to do anythin’, Y/N,” she says, taking on the tone of a gentle yet firm mother. “But ya need to do what will make you happy. Do what you think is right for you.”

You suddenly feel tears prick behind your eyes and you quickly blink them away. Shoko will soon be gone and instead of boarding the train, she’s giving you advice because she cares. And yet here you are, irrationally angry at her just because she’s right.

Quickly, your emotions reach their breaking point and you wrap your arms around her as you feel the tears come. “This is comin’ from a chainsmoker?” you snort. Shoko laughs, hugging you back. “Get back safe,” you whisper, committing her scent and muscle to memory.

You then depart and you see her on the train, waving as she gets on. Minutes later, the train whistles again and goes chugga-chugga-chugging down the railroad tracks, causing your hat to nearly fly off. After the train disappears in the distance with your friends, you hop on your horse and go home to rethink your life choices.

It doesn’t take long. That night, when you meet with Nanami, you have already rehearsed your words a bunch of times in your head, during your shower, and while getting dressed in the mirror.

When you leave Reneigh tied to a pole outside and walk into the cozy little bar, Nanami is already sitting at a booth overlooking the outside so you can see Reneigh and the other horses. He is dressed in a casual sweater, jeans, and boots, his cowboy hat sitting next to his bottle of beer.

When you lock eyes, you each give the other a smile. You walk over in your boots and slid into the booth across from him. “Hey,” you greet him. “Thank you for meetin’ me. How was work?”

He shrugs, sliding you the beer he ordered for you. “Treatin’ illnesses and tellin’ off my staff for slackin’ off…y’know: same shit, different day.”

You giggle, earning a smile from him that hurts your heart. “Your day has to be way more interestin’ than mine. You saw your friends off to Bull’s Creek today, right?”

You slowly nod, sipping your much-needed beer. “Yeah,” you sigh. “Seein’ them helped me realize how much I missed them. I still can’t believe Geto and Gojo did that for me.”

You meet his eyes and you feel incredibly guilty. Luckily, a waitress comes around to pour you water and take your orders while you conjure up an apology. You and Nanami agree to split a fried multi-flavor wing appetizer before you’re left alone again.

“I’m sorry,” you weakly say. “I didn’t want to turn tonight into them, but I suppose that’s why I asked you to come here.” Nanami shakes his head, looking more kind than you deserve. “Please, take your time.”

You inhale deeply, taking a sip of beer for liquid courage. Soft piano plays somewhere in the bar to accompany you.

“I’ve been doin’ some self-reflectin’ while I’ve been here,” you begin, “and it’s crazy to me because I wanted this life for so long! A life of safety and peace. A quiet, normal life…”

You pause to swallow, your body suddenly hot and clammy. Nanami patiently waits for you to continue. “It’s been wonderful, don’t get me wrong, but…I’m also not with the ones I want to spend it with.”

Now is the time to say what you need to and there is no better time than now to do so. You sit up straight and reach across the table to take Nanami’s hands in yours. He allows you, his cheeks flushed under the soft glow of the lantern swinging above you.

“Kento, you’re an amazing man and I appreciate all the time we’ve spent together, but I’d be lyin’ to us both if I said I’m present in what we have.” You inhale again, cleansing yourself with every inch your lungs expand.

The truth rolls off of your tongue, unable to be bottled up any longer: “I can’t deny my heart any longer: I’m in love with Geto and Gojo.”

You expect Nanami to be irritated or disappointed in you, perhaps thinking you led him on or broke his heart. But instead, he smiles. “I know,” he says. “And I understand. I’d be lyin’ to you and myself too if I said I was fully over my fiancè.”

The waitress returns and drops your wings off along with a variety of sauces: hot, honey, garlic parm, and barbecue. “You were engaged?” you ask, shocked.

“Mmm,” he hums, nodding. “She was my childhood friend who turned into my high school sweetheart. I believed she was destined for me, and I for her, but…she had other plans.” The sadness in his eyes tell you that these plans didn’t include him in the end.

“She had always had a rough edge to her, but she was so carin’ and kind. After her father died at the hands of a robber and her mother disowned her, she changed. She became a vigilante of sorts, takin’ out criminals and hidin’ among society by jumpin’ from place to place.”

‘Like me,’ you think.

Nanami leans back in his seat, an indication that an uncomfortable part of this story is nearing. “At this point, I was in medical school and couldn’t afford to stress over grades and her…but I couldn’t let her go. So I proposed to her, hopin’ it would change everythin’ for us.”

“Did…somethin’ happen to her?” you carefully ask, unsure of whether or not you want the answer.

Nanami takes a sip of his beer. You do the same, both of you preparing for the end of this story. “She said yes, but the law caught onto who she was and was lookin’ for her. She asked me to skip town with her and move across sea, but I couldn’t abandon my home or my practice. So she made the decision for me.”

His handsome face grows sadder, his eyes filled with words left unsaid. “She left,” you conclude.

His eyes tell you everything you need to know. “I never saw her again. The only things I have left of her are the engagement ring and a letter she wrote apologizin’ and tellin’ me how much she wanted to be the woman I thought she was.” He chuckles to himself, staring blankly at his beer. “Y’know, sometimes I think about what would’ve happened if I had chosen to go with her…but then I realize how stupid that would’ve been. She wouldn’t have wanted me to give up my life to live hers.”

You realize now why he’s telling you this very intimate, personal story. Not only is he telling you that he trusts you, but he’s also telling you to do what you think is right. Go after the life you want. You squeeze his hands, your face flushed with unshod tears. ”Thank you for sharin’ that with me,” you say, near tears. “You’re a wonderful friend.”

Nanami smiles and squeezes your hands back before you pull away. The air between you is lighter now, the tension of unsaid words vanished. “So,” he says, “what will do you do now?”

You take a sip of your beer and smile at him.

************

You stop with Reneigh at Cherrywood Station which is only a two-minute walk from the sheriff’s office.

Cherrywood is a beautiful town, much bigger than Willow Springs and supposedly has stricter law enforcement. Nobody can get in and out of the town without flashing their ID at the train employees. If you don’t have one, it’s straight to the sheriff for you. Luckily for you, you didn’t take the train. Reneigh had more than enough muscle power to make the four-day trip to Cherrywood with some rest stops and cat naps in between.

As you walk to the office, you’re aware of the eyes on you. Some quickly move out of your way while others make it a point to stay exactly where they are and risk bumping into you, giving you the evil eye. It’s strange how a bandana can suddenly make you so recognizable. None of these people even know what you look like underneath it.

You feel Eren’s pistol bounce against your left hip along with yours on the right, giving you the confidence and strength to keep walking. Your parents were more than against you leaving to find Geto and Gojo when you abruptly came to them after dinner with Nanami and announced your plans. They tried to make you stay and see things their way, especially Yuri. She was so sure that this would end in you either dead or in jail.

“Do you really have to go, my love?” she tearfully asked, stroking your cheek. “You can’t just let the law deal with it?” You stood on the road in front of her house with Eren, dressed in your rider’s outfit, boots, and hat. Your pistol was loaded, your wits were sharp, and you had about a week’s worth of food and coin in your bag that your folks gave you despite your refusal.

“The law ain’t gonna help none, Mama,” you gently explained once more. “Geto and Gojo are wanted outlaws and they’d gladly arrest them than find Benji. Everyone is afraid of him.” You turned to look down at your pistol, the roses glinting back at you. “But I ain’t.”

You gave them each a long, warm look before you turned to leave before sunrise. “Wait,” Eren said, stopping you. He reached into his own upholstery and produced a silver pistol with a marble handle. “You take this and use it if you need to,” he firmly said. “And you eat the food and use the money we’re givin’ you. It’s a long way to Cherrywood from here.”

He passed the gun to you along with a small velvet drawstring bag of extra bullets. With shaky hands, you took both and slid them away for safekeeping, but still kept them on your body. You were unable to keep the tears at bay then. Eren gripped you in a hug along with Yuri, all of you sniffling and crying in each other’s arms.

“You come back, ya hear?” he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. “We just got you back. I don’t need you disappearin’ again.”

You suddenly felt like a scared little girl going off on her own for the first time, but you knew that this is what you need to do. “Yes, sir,” you gently sobbed. “Thank you both.” You pulled away to gaze at them both, committing each gray hair, wrinkle, and line to memory.

Yuri pressed a kiss to your cheek, wiping your tears away with her hand. “Now go get your men…I mean, friends.”

Feeling the ghost of her kiss on your face, you square your shoulders, fix your bandana on your face, and strut into the sheriff’s office. A guard sits at the door asleep while a young woman works the front desk. She looks up at you with boredom from her paperwork and all the color drains from her face.

On her left is a makeshift bullet-in board of Wanted posters. You’re among them. It’s almost comical the way the clerk does a double take before slinking out of her seat. “C-Can I help you, ma’am?” She stammers. She is so low behind her desk that you almost don’t hear her. “Yes, you can,” you reply, your voice even and calm. “I’d like to speak with the sheriff, please.”

You hear a sudden gasp behind you, no doubt the guard, and the clerk rapidly waves her hand for him to fetch the sheriff. “H-He’ll be out in a moment,” she announces just as the guard goes running.

You nearly laugh behind your bandana. You’re shocked no one has called the police to arrest you yet, but then again, you have two pistols in your belt that you’re sure no one here wants to deal with. After a couple minutes of sitting and waiting, you hear boots thud across the floor from the back of the building.

You stand from your seat to properly greet the sheriff of Cherrywood, Mr. Joseph “Jo” Black. He is shorter in person with pitch black hair and a bead that stands to his last name. He wears his tan uniform and hat along with a big gold medal star pinned to his collar that reads ‘Sheriff Black’ on it.

He stands in front of the big guard behind him who looks nervous to see you. But Sheriff Black is cool as a cucumber. He sighs and puts his hands on his hips as if he was expecting but not hoping for your appearance. “So we finally meet.”

You tip your hat to him in greeting. “My posters don’t do me justice, I know.” Black comes up to you and leans in, his whiskers tickling your cheek. “Not out here,” he murmurs. You look around, noticing other visitors and workers staring gobsmacked at you.

He waves you into his office and you silently follow, others curiously watching. The sheriff’s office is tinier than you thought, but organized from top to bottom with files, books, and achievement awards. He doesn’t ask you to sit or offer you a drink. Instead, he stands near the door and shuts it before jumping straight to the point. “What do you want?” He demands.

You decide not to waste his or your time. “Geto and Gojo are workin’ with you to track down Benji after the train massacre, right?” The sheriff nods once. “Well, I’m trackin’ them down too. They left Willow Springs weeks ago and I haven’t heard from them since.”

The sheriff shows zero emotion to any of this. “So you were workin’ with them,” he realizes. “The Sage County police showed me the note you left with Valentine before he was brought in for questionin’.”

You keep that in mind for Plan B. If you can’t get an answer from him, you’ll get it from Valentine. “I need to know if you have any idea where Geto and Gojo are. If you’re workin’ with them, you should know, shouldn’t you?”

The sheriff sighs, pinching his sinuses. “It doesn’t work that way. They agreed to give me Benji alive to avoid jail time despite their crimes durin’ the Cherrywood train massacre. I had a feelin’ they were framed judgin’ by their story and since Benji had a vendetta against them, but they still committed a robbery.”

He moves slightly to the left to his own wall of Wanted posters. Among them are Geto and Gojo’s posters, still as sexy as the day you met them. “As skilled outlaws, they all know how to hide and skip towns. Benji could be anywhere at this point, and how do you know the Gunslingers didn’t join him again?”

It’s a reasonable question and argument, but you know better. “Because they never break a promise,” you firmly respond. “If they say they’ll get Benji then they will, but I fear that they are in danger. They need my help.”

Black looks like a tired old man at this point. You know he doesn’t have the answers you seek, so Plan B it is. “Where’s Valentine?” You ask. “You have him in custody for his crimes in Cherrywood. I need to speak with him.”

Black looks even more physically exhausted when you mention Valentine. “Look, if you’re tryin’ to pull information out of him, you’ll be sadly mistaken. We haven’t been able to get much out of him for weeks now.”

“I can do it,” you reply. “Just let me try—I have my ways.” The sheriff raises a brow at this. “And I promise you’ll never see my face here again,” you add, crossing your heart.

Black narrows his eyes at you for a moment before sighing. “I have half a mind to arrest you too,” he grumbles, “but I’ve got enough trouble.” He snatches a ring of keys off of the door before opening the door for you. “Follow me.”

You do as he says and follow him out of his office and building. After picking up his brown Bronco from outside and Reneigh from the train station, he instructs you to follow him. You do so wordlessly and obediently, not wanting to ruin this chance.

Valentine is, in fact, in custody and being held in the Cherrywood County Jail just five miles from the sheriff’s office. The jail is large in size and surrounded with barbed wire, dogs, and police officers armed to the max with batons and guns. Black introduces you to a correctional officer and leaves you with him to do as you wish.

The officer guides you through the busy, noisy building of visitors, officers, and jail cells where inmates bang their hands against the bars and beg for release before you come to a locked door. The officer takes a key out of his pocket and unlocks the door. “Ya got ten minutes,” he states. “Make ‘em count.”

You nod and go to step in, but the officer stops you with a hand. He silently nods down at your belt where two pistols sit. Of course. Obediently, you slip the guns out of your belt and pass him the extra knife in your boot. Only then does he give you the go ahead to enter. “I’ll be right outside if ya need me.”

You specifically asked for him to leave you and Valentine alone. You know for a fact that he won’t talk if law enforcement is present. When you walk inside the small, dimly-lit room, Valentine is cuffed to the table sitting between himself and another chair. He stares at his hands, looking tired and older.

He looks so odd in his black-and-white striped jumpsuit and his bruises have healed somewhat, leaving shadows on his face. Seeing him again floods you with anger and you long for your pistol. “Valentine,” you practically snarl.

He looks up at the mention of his name and his eyes grow wide at the sight of you. A smirk slides onto his lips. “So… we meet again,” he wryly chuckles. “I must be dead.” He leans back in his chair, immediately becoming the cool, cocky outlaw you know. “You come to drag me to hell or put a bullet in my head?”

You walk to the chair and sit across from him, making him wince as its legs scratch across the floor. “Neither,” you coldly reply. “I’ve come to ask you some questions: where’s your boss?”

You lean forward in the chair, keeping your hands firmly on the table. Valentine stares at you in confusion. “Geto and Gojo left me weeks ago to go find him. I wanna know where he is.”

The outlaw scowls. “How the fuck should I know?” He scoffs. “That damn gorilla left me too once y’all assaulted me in Sage County.”

“After you tied me to some railroad tracks!” You snap, already struggling to keep your composure. “We would’ve done more than that, but the Gunslingers made a vow to not kill.”

“You should’ve,” he hisses, practically spitting at you. “As soon as Benji and his men come to bail me out of here again, I’m comin’ for you.” His eyes are sharp like daggers, nailing you to the spot. You would’ve been terrified before, but now? All you can do is laugh.

You laugh at his stupidity. At his sureness and trust in Benji and the idea of being rescued. At the fact that he wasted so much time in a “relationship” with this dumbass just to check him off of your checklist. You laugh so hard that you begin to tear up.

Valentine is furious watching you laugh, especially when you’re in his presence. Just who do you think you are? “Stop laughin’ at me, bitch!” He angrily shouts. “What’s so fuckin’ funny?” His face grows flushed with rage and he pulls at his cuffs, no doubt wanting to backhand you.

You finally calm yourself and wipe away your tears before cruelly smirking at him. It only angers him more. “You really think that Benji is comin’ for you?” You scoff, peering down at him in pity. “You’ve been arrested twice which proves your incompetence and lack of skill in dodgin’ the law.”

You lean in towards Valentine whose face grows more and more drained the closer you get. “You’re a liability to him.”

You practically spit the L-word at him and watch in satisfaction as the horrible realization dawns on him. His boss isn’t coming for him. No one is coming for him. “Just tell me where he is,” you say, your voice low because even the walls have ears. “What do you have to lose? You’re already goin’ to prison again anyway.”

Valentine’s eyes fall to the table and you watch him ponder this idea for a moment. You begin to break out into a nervous sweat, practically jumping out of your skin for an answer. How many minutes has it been? Finally, the poor, little outlaw looks up at you and looks absolutely beaten. “I—“

BANG!

You and Valentine both jump at the sudden, loud sound. You turn towards the door, going for your guns but then realizing that you don’t have any. “What was that?” You gasp. Valentine doesn’t answer. Suddenly, you hear commotion: shouting, handcuffs banging against cell doors, the blaring of an alarm.

You turn to Valentine and grab his shirt, yanking him across the table toward you. “What did you do?” You demand, tightening your grip on him.

“I-I don’t know!” He shouts. “I-I didn’t do anything!” You don’t believe him. You don’t believe a single thing this motherfucker says. You raise your fist, about to knock his teeth out. “You son of a—“

Your words are cut off by a sudden bang and something zipping past your ear. It feels like a bee sting with how much it burns. You think that it is when you cover your ear, hissing at the pain, but you realize that it’s something else when your palm comes back red. Blood.

You suddenly hear gurgling in your other good ear and turn to see Valentine spitting up blood from out of his mouth. Probably because of the bullet wound in his chest, right over his heart. With a gasp, you release his shirt now stained in his blood and he slumps to the ground, his wrists still cuffed to the table. “Turn around slowly,” a deep, raspy voice growls. It sends cool shivers of dread down your spine.

You understand why once you do. Benji the Bandit stands there in an inmate uniform which strangely suits him and his salt-n-pepper hair, not just because you’ve fantasized of seeing him in one. He is as big as the guard he holds to his chest with one beefy hand, a pistol at his temple. The door to the room shuts behind them and you notice you never even heard it open.

“I knew you’d be here,” the outlaw growls. “I came back to finish this motherfucker off”—he waves the gun at Valentine’s body—“and here you are. Ya couldn’t have just stayed in hidin’.” Despite your shaky hands and obvious terror, you don’t let that stop your mouth. “Because I’m not a fuckin’ coward,” you growl. “You kill the sheriff, I’m guessin’?”

Benji shakes his head. “None of ‘em know I’m here and I prefer to keep it that way. I’ve been hidin’ out on the outskirts of this town for days now and snuck in no problem. Even if you manage to kill me now, my men are crawlin’ all over this damn buildin’ and this town.” He presses the pistol harder into the guard’s temple, making him grunt. “I’ve had these pricks wrapped ‘round my fingers since the train incident.”

That explains why it was so quiet when you got here. People are terrified of this man. Swallowing, you think fast and raise your hands up. “Let him go and I’ll surrender.”

Benji’s face falls, shocked at your willingness to throw in the towel so quick. ”Why?” He scoffs. “So you can pull a gun outta your bra?”

You slowly shake your head. “I don’t have nothin’ else. I’m just lookin’ for Geto and Gojo.”

Benji throws his head back and laughs a loud, horrible laugh that sends shivers down your spine. “Oh, I bet you are,” he cackles. “I know them two idiots have been lookin’ for me too. Lucky for you, I know where they are.” He gives you a big smirk that reminds you of a storybook wolf—malicious and wicked.

You know he could very well be lying, but you also know you’ve got one chance.

Slowly, you bend down onto your knees like a praying woman desperate for forgiveness. “Then take me to them,” you beg. “Let the man go and just let me know that they’re safe. I promise that that’s all I want.”

Benji stares you down, sizing you up as he holds the scared man at gunpoint. You stand your ground on your knees, silent and unmoving. Finally, Benji tosses the man aside. “I’ll take you to ‘em,” he grunts. He raises his pistol at you to fire, but you’re quicker than him.

Quickly, you grab the leg of the chair beside you and use two hands to grip it. Misdirection.

With a grunt, you toss it at Benji who just barely misses it. It catapults through the air over the guard’s head and crashes into the wall, splintering into wooden pieces.

Benji stares at you like you’re the damn Devil and bares his teeth at you. “You bitch!” he bellows.

Before you can stop him, his pistol comes down hard against your head and everything goes black.

#black fanfic writer #smutty smut #my works #black coded reader #my fic shit #black writers #jjk smut #cowboy gojo #cowboy geto #satosugu #satoru gojo x black!reader #suguru geto x black!reader #cowboy!au #cowboy!geto #cowboy!gojo #poly smut #poly love #enemies to friends to lovers #slow burn romance

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noelle151 · 2 years ago

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I need the fic where Eddie thinks about the possibility of his last word to Buck really being "Alright cowboy, go get 'em"

Like, the cringe, the regret he feels

#911 fox #eddie diaz #buddie #evan buck buckely #evan buckley

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thetragicallynerdy · 1 year ago

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WIP Wednesday - Die Hard style

(aka I started writing a Die Hard fic where Jim is John McClane and I'm a lil obsessed)

Jim leans against the blood-smeared bathroom mirror and closes their eyes, tries to focus away from the lump in their throat and the blinding pain in their foot. They can't even feel well enough to tell if there's still glass in it.

"You got anybody waiting at home?" they ask into the radio, voice rough with pain. "They cussing me out for keeping you here on Christmas Eve?"

There's a huff of laughter before the answer comes back crackling with static, Ed's soft accent making everything warmer. "Yeah, mate. My man's heating up cocoa as we speak. Don't think you're the one he's cussing out, though."

They smile. "Sounds nice."

"It is. What about you, cowboy? Got anyone at home?"

They hope so. Everything is so fucked, and it's all their doing. If Oluwande is still alive, all they can hope is that he'll let them come crawling home. Even if it's just to the couch. Even if it's not what it was before, they need him.

"Sure hope so," they choke out. "Don't know that there'll be cocoa waiting for me, though."

“Then you’ll just have to bring ‘em along to mine,” Ed says firmly. “You’re getting out, you fuckin’ hear me? And you’ll get your cocoa, and your warm fire, and your stockings under the tree.”

Jim tilts their head back, tears burning the corners of their eyes. Everything hurts. They’re bleeding, and aching, and everything feels impossible. They’re not going to stop trying to save Olu, save all the other hostages, get everyone out of this goddamn building, but god, they’re fucking tired. “Ed. I need you to do something for me, okay?”

The reply is instantaneous. “Anything, mate.”

“If I –“ their voice chokes off “- if I don’t make it out, then I need you to find my husband. Don’t ask me how, by then you’ll know.” Please, please, let Oluwande make it out of here.

“… cowboy –“

“Tell him –“ their vision is blurred with tears now, and Jim blinks rapidly, tries to keep it clear, because they’re not safe, not even now, and if someone comes through the door they have to be ready. “That he’s the best thing that ever happened to me. That he’s my family, and nothing can take that away.”

It’s impossible to put everything they want to say in a few words. All they can hope is that Ed will remember, and that by then, it will be enough, it will be what Oluwande needs to hear.

They already know it won’t be. “Tell him – that Jim said they were sorry. I love him, and I’m sorry I ran, and if I could – if I could I would stay forever. But I can’t.” They swallow, drag an arm over their eyes. The blood and sweat just makes them sting more. “You got all that?”

Ed’s voice goes soft. “Yeah, Jimbo, I got it. But you can tell him yourself, alright?”

#jim jimenez #jim ofmd #ofmd fanfic #tragicallynerdy writes #wip wednesday #the die hard au

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thewolvesof1998 · 1 year ago

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WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @daffi-990 @theotherbuckley and @wikiangela

Bear with me...Since Halloween's over I think it's time for a change of picture, now its too early for anything Christmas so I thought I would change to my drawing of Rodeo Star Buck as I finally finished drawing it:

And since it's Wednesday, here's a little bit I've been working on today from Chapter three of Alright, Cowboy, Go Get 'Em:

Eddie watches as Buck pulls away, not physically, he stays lying next to Eddie, but he pulls away mentally and it hurts more than it should. It leaves a sour taste in Eddie’s mouth and it makes him want to chase after Buck, kiss him until it washes it away. It can’t end like this, on this sour note with Buck further away from him than when he entered this hotel room. Eddie rolls onto his side facing Buck, props himself up on his elbow and reaches out towards Buck before he can think better. His hand connects with Buck’s shoulder first before sliding down over his chest and down to sit low on his stomach. He’s so warm even with the T-shirt between them. “What are you doing?” Buck asks “We have an hour before I have to leave, we could you know, if you want?” Buck raises a single eyebrow, “Fuck?” Eddie blushes, he doesn’t know why he’d said worse things last night, “Yeah, I suppose that’s a word for it.” “I wanna hear you say it.” Eddie meets Buck’s gaze, his blue eyes practically glowing in the early morning light, leans until his lips brush against Buck’s ear and whispers, “I want to fuck you.” He almost says 'I want you to fuck me' but he's not sure he's ready for that yet. Buck swallows, “Yeah, yeah we can do that.” At the permission Eddie slides his hand down and under Buck’s shirt, he lightly brushes over the skin above the waistband of his boxers, teasing and teasing until Buck is squirming. “I thought you said you were going to fuck me?” He asks already a little breathless, his bottom lip in what Eddie would call a pout. Eddie chuckles, “Always so impatient.” “We only have an hour,” Buck says and it’s a harsh reminder of the little time they have left together, something Eddie doesn’t want to focus on right now. He pulls the covers off of them before returning his hand to Buck’s waistband, he’s already straining against the thin black fabric. Eddie slips his hand into his boxers and wraps his hand around Buck’s dick. His breath hitches in Eddie’s ear and he turns his head and catches Buck’s lips in a chaste kiss, the first of the morning. His lips are dry and he tastes slightly of morning breath, it should not be as cute as Eddie is finding it. Buck pulls back, “We should brush our-ah-teeth,” Buck says somewhat distractedly as Eddie moves his hand along Buck’s length as best he can within the confines of the shorts. “I don’t care if you don’t,” Eddie says, watching the challenge register on Buck’s face. “Come here then,” He says, lifts his hand, slides it into Eddie’s hair and reels him in until their lips are brushing each other but no further. Eddie closes the distance, pressing into Buck, lips moulding together. He sucks in Buck’s lower lip, biting down until he’s gasping into Eddie’s mouth. He takes advantage of it to slip his tongue into Buck’s mouth, tasting the stale morning breath, it’s kinda nasty and so goddamn intimate and Eddie moans into Buck’s mouth. He chases the taste, sucking on Buck’s tongue in a sloppy kiss, that dissolves as Buck's gasps increase in frequency as Eddie’s hand continues its ministrations on Buck’s dick. “Eddie,” Buck whines Eddie nips at the edge of his jaw, “You want something Darlin’?” He feels Buck shiver at the term of endearment, “You said something about fucking me.”

Masterlist of posts about this fic- 18+

Read Chapter One and Two on ao3- 18+

Tagging: @wildlife4life @eddiebabygirldiaz @disasterbuckdiaz @spotsandsocks @try-set-me-on-fire @jesuisici33 @bekkachaos @buddierights @forthewolves @911-on-abc @hippolotamus @shitouttabuck @911onabc @exhuastedpigeon @eddiediaztho @your-catfish-friend @loserdiaz @ladydorian05 @watchyourbuck @king-buckley @chaoticgremlinwholikescheese @fortheloveofbuddie @steadfastsaturnsrings @mangacat201 @hoodie-buck @eowon @rainbow-nerdss @nmcggg @pirrusstuff @evanbegins @giddyupbuck @sammy-souffle @smilingbuckley

#9-1-1 #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie fic #thewolvesof1998 writes #fic: alright cowboy go get em #buddie rodeo au #cowboy buck #cowboy smut #wip wednesday #thewolvesof1998 art

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ourtearsofrain · 1 year ago

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Mon Beau (J.T.K/O.C) (Save a Horse Universe)

Summary: Continuation/offshoot of Ride a Cowboy; what happens between Sebastian and Jake that night.

Pairings: Jake Kiszka x Male OC

Genre: fluff, teeny bit of angst if you squint, drabble

Word Count: 2 k

Warnings: none, they’re cute and gay; Sparrow (Sebastians’ sibling) is a little protective, mentions some shitty things Seb has been through with past partners but nothing graphic or traumatic; brief mentions/implication of sex between Sam and Danny, and Austin and Josh but as lighthearted comments or jokes.

A/N: I would highly highly recommend reading Save a Horse and Ride a Cowboy, (and Salty Dogs, Anyone?) as this is a continuation/offshoot of Ride a Cowboy. Hope y’all like this short little fic, I’ve really enjoyed expanding on the stories of the boys and their oc boyfriends :)

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[Brief excerpt from Ride a Cowboy as a timeline reminder]:

Once again, he taps his brother on the shoulder to get his attention. “Hey Jake, Sam and I are heading out. Josh is getting a ride with Austin, so either catch a ride with him or leave now with us.”

Just as his twin had done, he asks “Are you guys ok?”

“Yep, just tired.”

Jake looks towards Sam, also immediately knowing what was going on. “Uh huh, well, get some rest guys.”

“I can give you a ride home if you’d like, mon beau.”

Jake and Danny both smile at Sirena as Sam is too busy staring at his boyfriend in the cowboy hat to respond to her offer to Jake.

“Thanks, Sebastian.” Jake turns to Danny and Sam once more, “See you guys later, have fun and get some rest.”

“Thanks Jake, see ya.” Danny says before turning away, finally pulling Sam towards the exit.

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Both watch as the other boys make their way briskly towards the exit.

“They look mighty eager to get home.” Sebastian laughs.

Jake turns back towards him, chuckling. “Yeah well, I’m just glad I live with Josh and not Sam. I think I would have killed myself if they had gotten together in high school and I had to hear them through the thin ass walls.”

Sebastian lets a loud laugh loose at this, covering his mouth with his hand. Jake smiles at him questioningly, "Why are you covering your mouth? You have a great smile.”

His hand drops as he looks down self-consciously. “Well, mon beau, you may think that but, it’s kind of a subconscious habit at this point. Other kids weren’t the nicest in high school so, like I said, it’s habit.”

“You have a gorgeous smile, Sebastian.”

He smiles wide at this, his hand starting to come back up before stopping himself. “Thank you, mon beau.”

The song changes to something Jake recognizes as a favorite of Josh’s. He automatically looks over to his twin, seeing his clear excitement from across the room. He smiles from knowing Josh was having fun with Austin.

“You alright, mon beau?”

Jake turns towards Sebastian again with a smile still on his face. “Yeah, Josh loves this song and looks like he’s having fun, I’m happy for him.”

Sebastian glances over at Josh and Austin, smiling with Jake. “Him and his man look like they’re enjoying themselves. They make a cute couple.”

“I know right??” he exclaims. “Josh’s been into him for a while but never made a move. Hopefully one of them will tonight.”

Sebastian raises his eyebrows, still looking at Josh and Austin. “Well, mon beau, looks like one of ‘em just did.”

Jake whips around towards them, to see them swaying gently as they kiss. “Fucking finally!” he says with a grin.

Sebastians attention turns towards Jake again. “It’s sweet how happy you are for your brothers.”

He shrugs, “They’re my brothers. I love them and want them to be happy.”

As if summoned, Jake feels a tap on his shoulder and turns to see Josh and Austin behind him.

“Hey, Austin and I are heading back to our place, need a ride?”

“Na,” Jake nods towards Sebastian, “Sebastian’s taking me home. You guys better be done by the time I get back, I swear to god if I hear anything, I’m smothering you with a pillow while you’re asleep.”

Jake sees a blush fall across Josh and Austins cheeks, before Josh rolls his eyes as he replies, “We’re not gonna do anything, Jake. Stop being so melodramatic."

Jake smiles, “Uh huh, right. Either way, have fun.”

Josh shakes his head at his twin, “Thanks, Jake. See you later.” He says before turning away, grabbing Austin’s hand and intertwining their fingers as they make their way towards the door.

Jake focuses on Sebastian and their dance again as the song changes.

“If not for you,

Babe, I couldn’t even find the door.

I couldn’t even see the floor.

I’d be sad and blue, if not for you.”

“I love this song.” Jake says with a smile.

“George Harrison, right?”

“Yeah, it is. I like The Beatles, but think his standalone music is just as great.” Jake thinks for a moment, “Actually, I think I have this album on vinyl.”

“Well then, you’ll have to play it when I come over to see your pirate coins.”

Jake grins, remembering their deal to show each other their various pirate-themed collections of trinkets. “Of course!”

They slowly dance through the song, changing their pace as another, faster one starts as the closing notes of the song conclude. They dance through so many songs, laughing and making light conversation as they go, that they lose count of them all. Jake finally fails at containing a yawn, having danced so long and late that his feet were sore and his body exhausted.

“Tired, mon beau?”

“Little bit, but it’s alright if you need to stay later.”

Sebastian shakes his head at him, already stopping their dance to lead Jake towards the performers exit to the back room. “They’ll be fine if I split now, it’s getting late anyways. You fine waitin’ out here while I change?”

They stop next to an empty two-person table near the door and Jake slides onto the stool. “Of course.”

Sebastian offers a small smile at him, “Alrighty, I’ll be 10 minutes, at most.”

“No rush.” Jake says, before he turns away and disappears behind the door. He pulls his phone out, sending a text to Josh saying, “Heading back in 10 ish. Like I said you guys better be decent when I get there.”, before slipping his phone back into his pocket.

He sits in silence for about five minutes, listening to the music and taking in the bar and its remaining patrons, before he's approached by a familiar looking person coming out of the performers exit. Her fishnet shirt replaced by a black shirt and cozy knit vest, and her hair different; her platinum bun gone and instead a short, dark mullet of clean coils. Jake recognizes her as Sparrow, Sebastians sibling. She sits down across from him, her expression unreadable.

“You’re Jake.” She says, more as a statement than a question.

“Uh, yeah?”

“I’m Sara, Sebastians sister.”

Jake smiles at her, “Nice to meet you, Sara.”

She doesn’t return his smile, face still cool and collected as she stares him down.

“Seb’s nervous about you seein’ him out of drag. He’s too nice to say it to your face but, he is.”

Jake’s brows furrow, “What? Why?”

“My guess? He’s worried you won’t be attracted to him outta drag too. I’m only gonna say this once, ya hear me? I’ve seen boys like you toy with my brother cause they think he’s hot in drag, and then split the second they see him outta it cause they’re hit with the realization he’s a man and they ain’t ready to confront their sexualities. I am fiercely protective of him, and he deserves better than that. For some reason he thinks you’re somthin’ special and he really likes you. So for that, I’ll give you one warnin’. If you hurt him like that, I’ll hurt you. If you ain’t ready to understand and recognize he’s a man, makin’ you queer, you better leave now before he gets back out here. That’ll hurt him less than you pretendin’ and goin’ along with it.”

“I understand.” Jake says solemnly, “Him and I talked about that, I know that whatever happens between us makes me queer, the last thing I want is to hurt him. I truly like him for who he is. I swear.”

This eases some of Sara’s worries, her body physically relaxing as the tension leaves. “Good. You seem like a nice guy, I don’t mean to scare you off or nothin’.”

“Don’t worry, you didn’t. I admire how much you care for him. I have brothers myself, so I understand.”

She slides out of the bar stool, “Well in that case, Jake, ya’ll have fun. Imma split before Seb gets back, I hope to be seein’ you again.”

“Yeah, hopefully.” Jake offers a smile of goodbye, and this time she returns it before walking away, snaking her way through the diminishing groups of people to get to the bar’s exit.

Jake is still focused on the door, not realizing that Sebastian had come out until he hears him. “Ready to go, mon beau?”

His head turns towards his voice, seeing Sebastian out of drag for the first time, long locs shortened, makeup gone, and wearing a simple red corduroy jacket overtop a loose black shirt. He stares for a second, seeing Sebastians’ expression go from confusion to worry. “You alright, Jake?”

He manages to organize his thoughts into a sentence, still staring at Sebastian in wonder. “You’re beautiful.”

His thoughts catch up to his mouth as a look of bashful confusion passes over Sebastians’ face. “I mean, you were beautiful before, too. But, just, wow.”

Sebastian smiles at him, “Thank you. You’re beautiful too, mon beau. Glad you ain’t scared or turned off by how I look now cause I’ll tell ya right now, this is how I look 90% of the time.”

Jake makes no move to get off his stool, still awestruck by Sebastian. “Well, ready to head out?”

This snaps him out of it, “Oh! Uh, yeah.” he says as he gets off his stool and heads towards the door with Sebastian.

“Do I needa pull up google maps or you know the way back to your place from here?”

“I got it, it’s not far.”

They walk to the car in comfortable silence, only broken by quiet music from the radio as Sebastian starts his car. Jake begins directing Sebastian to his house as a feeling of dread in his stomach grows as they get closer. Sebastian pulls into his driveway, shifting the car into park before speaking.

“Here you are, mon beau.”

“Thanks for the ride.” He starts, still not wanting to get out of the car. “Do you- do you want to get drinks or go to dinner or something soon?”

Sebastian smiles, glad Jake asked the question he had been worrying over the entire car ride. “I’d love to, mon beau. Here, give me your phone. I’ll put my number in.”

He hands him his phone, all former dread leaving his body, happy with the confirmation that he would be seeing him again soon. He hands his phone back, signaling that it was time for them to part ways.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Course you can, Jake.”

Their kiss is as sweet and slow as it had been back in the bar, only now with a little less lipstick. Neither want it to end, but Sebastian eventually pulls away, resting his forehead on Jake’s as they sit for a second in content silence. “As much as I hate goodbyes, you should probably go check on your brother. Try not to kill him if him and his man are still havin’ fun, I quite liked him in the, albeit brief interaction we had.”

Jake snorts, remembering Josh and Austin had gone back to their place for the night. “Yeah, I’ll try. No promises though.” He finally opens the car door, saying, “Thank you for tonight, Sebastian. See you soon.” before getting out.

“Thank you for tonight too, mon beau. See ya soon, you have my number.”

Jake smiles at him before closing the door and walking towards his house. He unlocks the door, fighting the urge to loudly announce his presence as he hears a movie playing faintly from the living room. He locks the door behind him before making his way towards the sound to investigate.

He finds the end of Dirty Dancing playing on the TV, with Josh and Austin passed out together on the couch, Josh laying on top of Austin, whose arms are wrapped protectively around the other man. Jake laughs to himself quietly, thankful that they were both fully clothed. He turns the TV off and lays a blanket over the pair, before grabbing their empty glasses off the coffee table and taking them to their kitchen.

Jake makes his way towards his room as he tries to decide whether he should text Sebastian. He finally gives in, despite his slight anxieties, and sends a short text to him: “This is Jake, now you have my number too :)”

He sets his phone down on his bedside table before starting his nightly routine, trying not to think too much about if Sebastian had replied. To his delight, he comes back to see a notification from him: “Thanks, mon beau. Get some sleep it’s late, talk more tomorrow <3”

He smiles to himself as he climbs into bed, turning the light off and trying to fall asleep despite his racing mind stuck on thoughts of where he should take him. He manages to fall asleep, content and thoughts still full of Sebastian.

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

Songs mentioned:

If Not For You- George Harrison

#fic #greta van fleet #greta van fleet fan fiction #gvf fic #jake gvf #jake kiszka x oc #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka

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