#i want to make him a cowboy hat but he has such a tiny head and i dont know if they make hats that small

[thebiggestmenace]

the shelf is coming along nicely :)

the charm is by @nobledemons !!

[rottiens]

contents. satoru gojō x fem reader, embarrassingly self indulgent, established relationship, very cheesy (im soooorry), divider by adornedwithlight.

"What?" Gojo chuckles softly, his fingers sliding a little further down your waist, drawing you even closer to the warmth of his body.

Everything is quiet outside; the sun's rays shyly sneak through the gaps the curtains allow, while the warmth of the sheets wraps around you, making you want to stay there forever. It is your safe place.

Your fingers materialize in front of his face, and Gojo follows them with his gaze, as if mesmerized. When you brush his nose and trace soft lines on either side of his cheeks, he shivers slightly, his eyelashes fluttering with a gentle twitch.

"You have freckles," you say simply. "One, two..." you begin to count, but you lose yourself in the constellation of tiny reddish dots that decorate the perfection of his skin.

"You're lying," he says with a playful tone.

"You also have on your back," you add amused, touching his nose once more. You try to slide back under the sheets, but he catches your hand and pretends to bite it. His teeth make a slight pressure, and you exaggerate the pain by letting out a squeak. "Ouch!" you laugh, unable to contain yourself.

"You've told me before," he comments, softening his tone. "That I have freckles."

"Really?"

Gojo shakes his head softly, but adds nothing more. He's embarrassed to remember that you were the first to notice it, even before you two were dating. Since then, he hasn't been able to stop thinking about it. He leans in and deposits a soft kiss on your forehead.

"I have to go soon."

You pout and reach for his hand under the sheets, catching it with your own.

"Stay a little longer, it's still early."

"It's late enough, angel." Gojo tries not to smile as he says it. "You sleep a little longer, we can go for dinner later."

"One last kiss before you go?" you hold out your arms, but he slips out of the trap, standing up suddenly.

"Not this time."

"You're cruel." You snuggle back into the sheets, watching him stretch.

"You know what happened the last time I agreed." As much as it pains him not to give in, he knows that if he goes near the bed again, he'd end up skipping school. And while nothing would make him happier, he has responsibilities to attend to, especially today.

"Do you know what you want to be for Halloween yet?" He's about to say, "Your husband," but holds back. His chest tightens and he has to control himself not to look at the closet, where the little box with the ring he's going to give you soon waits hidden in one of his jackets.

"Hm."

"Cowboy? I think you'd look sexy in a hat." This makes him grin. "Deadpool? Vampire?"

"Let me think about it. I'll have an answer tonight."

"Good. You better, Mei Mei won't let us in without costumes."

Gojo closes the distance between the two of you. His weight causes the mattress to shake slightly as he leans toward you and kisses your forehead.

“I'll have an answer tonight,, now sleep some more and dream of me. I love you."

[uc1wa]

18+ minors dni

tags: fem reader, oral sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (pulling out), alcohol, dick (being a slut), frats (?)

dick grayson had a questionable reputation on campus. playboy, daddy’s money, beer pong champ, finance bro, and the king of hookups and god does everybody he’s been with know. there’s a reason all of his previous partners shoot him 2am texts asking what he’s doing.

but tonight he has his eyes on you.

loud music blasts in the frat house that feels awfully tiny with the mass of half naked people who are standing and grinding inside of it, random strobe lights are placed in all corners and the theme of "save a horse, ride a cowboy" is obnoxiously obvious with random cowboy hats hanging on walls and flannels being worn by everyone.

you were dragged by your friends to attend this party, one of which you’d never attend, knowing the man-whore personality of the house you’re standing in right now.

you’re leaned against a counter, solo cup of jungle juice in your hand as you’re buzzed, but still aware enough to know you still don’t want to be here.

the only thing giving it away is your bored expression—because your shorts that are uncomfortably too short, the tied flannel, and cowboy hat on your head tell a different story.

people watching was fun at parties, the outfits, the who’s talking to who, and the who’s dragging who upstairs was entertaining to your tipsy self.

your eyes didn’t spot the ravennette who was familiar with everybody coming towards your way till he was beside you, his body heat radiating onto yours and his breath against your neck as he tries to talk to you.

and the appeal of the man wasn’t hard to understand. he’s wearing a white crop top that his abs are peaking out of, an open flannel and jean shorts that show his quads beautifully.

everyone thought the man was hot, but to be attracted to him was another thing.

"can’t tell if you look lost or don’t wanna be here anymore," the smell of liquor too apparent in his breath that touches your neck, making you slowly meet his blue eyes and obnoxious smirk.

you only raise a brow, scoffing and leaning into his ear now. "don’t wanna be here," you say, leaning back on the counter.

and if anybody knows dick, you know he gets what he wants, and tonight his eyes are on you and your pretty tits that are held up by a push-up bra that you obviously wore for him, he just knows it.

he leans over again, this time snaking an arm around your back and moving his fingers along the exposed skin. "c’mon, i gotta room upstairs that’s practically sound proof." and honestly, you wouldn’t put it past him. the man has money to spend, and maybe he did soundproof his single in his frat house, just because he can. or, maybe he says that so that you can scream and his brothers can fist bump him in the morning. who knows?

but your mind is a little hazy and your speech a little slurred and dick’s arm doesn’t feel awful around you, so you lean in again, this time with a grin playing on your lips. "what’s in it for me?"

dick’s eyebrow arched, his smirk upturned and his hand tightening around your back at the question.

"wanna find out?"

and a few more teasing words of banter were said, a shot thrown down both of your throats, and a few inappropriate gropes placed on your body before he had your hand in his, leading you up stairs shamelessly while smiling at his friends on the way.

dick’s door closes with a kick of his foot, not locking it because… why would he? he doesn’t care if somebody walks in on the two of you.

when he turns around and you’re sitting on the bed for him, he’s grateful you’re wearing skimpy clothes, less hassle and easier access. he can only smirk, asking himself how dumb you are, you obviously dressed like this for him.

the man walks over, kicking his shoes somewhere in the dark room and slipping his flannel off, his biceps seem bigger than they did in your finance class you had with him last semester. his hands are big, veiny and long and fuck they feel good when he cups your face, looking down at you and moving his knee to spread open your thighs.

his thumb moves to your bottom lip, pressing the soft skin until you open your lips all pretty for him, taking his thumb in your mouth and sucking.

"good girl," he says, the hand that’s not cupping your cheek going down to unbutton his jean shorts.

then, dick takes a step back, slipping his thumb from between your lips and moving to the other side of the bed, sitting down and looking at you expectantly. "c’mon, show me more of your pretty self," he leans back on the heel of his hands, his broad chest sticking out and his lap looking like the perfect seat right now.

and all you can do is nod with wide eyes and listen to the man who was slowly but surely talking his way into your pants.

his dark blue eyes watch as you rid yourself of the cowgirl boots you were wearing. he licks his lips when you take your flannel off, eyes darting down to your hands that fumble to take your shorts off. you stand there with your cowboy hat sitting on your head and dick chuckles, "you’re doing real good with the theme, y’know?" he slurs.

you roll your eyes, "not proud of it," you slur right back, stepping forward while placing your knees on either side of his hips, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning in.

"i’ll make you proud," dick says, his big hands resting on your hips, fingers playing underneath your thong that should just be considered a string at this point.

he leans forward, biting your bottom lip enough to make you whimper before he attacks your lips, forcing his tongue in and kissing you sloppily. saliva coating both your lips, threatening to spill out by how feverish his force is, his hand pushing you against his cock that’s already hard. and jesus you’re glad you wore the stringy panties you decided on because the feeling of him—even through the shorts he’s still wearing is painfully delicious.

you pull back, eyes half lidded and view not as straight as a sober persons, "gonna make me wait?" and maybe if you were sober the quickness of dick’s moves would seem normally paced, but he was quick to push you off of him to the side of his bed and throw his shorts to the side, followed by his boxers. all he’s wearing is a little white crop top and fuck he looks real good.

he’s toned and defined beautifully. not jacked like some guys are, letting it know that they’re juiced up. no, dick was the most naturally beautiful man to exist. (unfortunately, you weren’t the first to realize that… and definitely won’t be the last).

you lean back on your palms this time, watching him walk over to you painfully slow, his cock hardened all for you. "take a picture, it’ll last longer," he smirks, climbing on top of you while pushing you down and letting your legs wrap around his waist that feels so small in comparison to his broad shoulders. he takes your cowboy hat off, setting it to the side because that will definitely come back up.

you roll your eyes for what feels like the hundredth time tonight, arms wrapping around him and lips reconnecting again. the man is quick to arch your back off the bed, one finger sliding behind you to unclip your bra—which almost feels sickening how fast he was to do so—but your brain doesn’t let that register with the alcohol in your bloodstream.

dick remembers your words from earlier, gonna make me wait? and next thing you notice when you look down is your bra thrown on the ground and dick’s lips on your stomach, kissing down with hands on either side of you on the mattress until he’s sat at your pussy that’s embarrassingly wet for him.

"next party’s on thursday, you should come out," he starts while tugging your panties to the side with a curl of his index finger. "dress real pretty for me again."

and dick says that to every girl, sometimes giving a hint on what he wants them to wear, knowing once he hits, he will always quit and find the next person untouched by him.

"i’ll think about it," you say, broken into a whimper as his lips are quick to suck on your clit and his index and middle finger plunge into your wetness. if the music wasn’t booming from downstairs, maybe the sounds of your wetness would be more embarrassing, but dick just thought it was hot and your moans were real pretty.

and again, if you were sober, you’d probably arch a brow at the minimal time dick stayed down there, but you weren’t and were real hungry for him to fill you up.

"show me what the hype’s about," you say as he climbs up to you, one arm beside your head and one groping one of your breasts enough to illicit small whines from your throat. "i’ll see if you can handle it," he says cockily, voice dripping in ego as the hand that’s groping your breasts goes down to line his cock up with your hole.

in one quick motion he’s filling you up, your back arching off the bed and a loud pitched moan leaving your lips with eyes squeezed shut. dark blue eyes watch your face, cocky smirk not leaving his lips for a minute until he’s sucking on your neck. dick is shameless, he’s purposely leaving marks wherever he wants on your body, knowing he won’t let you do the same even if you tried.

the man above you is going to make sure you remember him fucking you, even if it’s just by you waking up with blotches on your neck and chest in the morning.

"too much?" he asks teasingly, showing no remorse with the deep groans he spills out with every time he fills you up. and dick is girthier than you thought he’d be, everytime he pushes into you feels like the first no matter how wet you are. it feels like he’s ripping you open with the hard and fast pace he’s maintaining.

an answer to his question is impossible, the only sounds are moans and whimpers, more so when his lips are on yours. your sounds mixed together are delicious to your ears and you pull him closer, sweaty body’s and breath tasting like liquor feels intoxicating.

he flips you both over with ease, his toned back resting on his mattress and pillow with you on top now. a loud groan escapes your lips, his full length filling you up but from another position was brutal at first. dick gave you a few more seconds to adjust before his big hands guided your hips up.

"you got it baby," his voice is low and full of desire, blue eyes taking over your frame that feels made for him. one hand comes off your skin to grab the cheesy cowboy hat and he motions for you to put it on with a shit eating grin.

coming to realization, you roll your eyes, "really?" you ask, rolling your eyes with a small laugh. but you put it on, and then fall back onto dick, riding him slowly and at an angle that makes him hit the spot deep inside of you repetitively. "fuck, fuck, fuck," you moan, your eyes closing and neck thrown back from the delicious feeling.

while dick is groaning, he can only smirk up at you, knowing he’s getting exactly what he wanted when he chose the theme for the party that night. "you look so fuckin’ good, riding me so good, yeah?" he’s verbally and physically fucking you at this point.

"takin’ this cock so good, baby," he groans, feeling himself twitching and turning you back over again, so he’s on top when he finishes.

in no time dick’s pulling out to spill his cum all over your lower abdomen, chuckling to himself as he pulls off of you and looking down. it’s his favorite view, flushed red cheeks, chest heaving up and down (making your breasts look even more delicious), and his cum painting your sweaty body.

if he was feeling more like an asshole, he’d ask to take a picture. but he knew you were a nice girl from one of his past semesters and decided not to be a total dick.

"you look good," he says it like it’s a reminder, like you’re already supposed to know—because why else would you be in dick grayson’s bed if you weren’t hot? and he walks away, going to the bathroom that’s connected to his room and returning with a wash cloth, cleaning you up with a laugh. "i’m leaving after this," you say, wiping your lips with the backside of your arm.

and dick let’s out an internal sigh of relief at that, he hates when girls are insistent on spending the night or staying for more of the party, latched to him. "fine by me, want me to get an uber?" he asks, throwing the rag to the side and sitting there for another second, looking at your fucked out state—the one he put you into.

you nod your head, sitting up in the bed, knowing if you stay with spread legs that dick will attempt a round two before the car he’s called you gets here. "wanna hand me my clothes?" you ask, not as slurred of words as before, the fucking sobering you up slightly.

"y’don’t wanna borrow a shirt?" because dick has a drawer full of old shirts from varying events on campus that he gives to his hookups, another reminder to everyone else that he’s the one who fucked you good tonight.

"fuck no," you roll your eyes, moving to get your clothes yourself and slipping them on as dick slips his boxers and shorts on, staring at you as you get dressed from the ledge of his bed.

the clothes weren’t as comfortable as what could’ve been a comfortable and baggy shirt, but you were trying to move as quick and invisible as possible out of the party and to the uber that just rang its arrival on dick’s phone. "it’s here," he says, standing up beside you and wrapping a hand around your waist. "sure you don’t wanna spend the night?"

"positive," the exact answer he knew he was going to get.

"this was fun," he says, leaning into you slightly. "you have my number, i’m always available," if it wasn’t dick, that sentence would’ve been cringey and gross, but his voice sounded too good right now and you nodded. "i’ll keep that in mind."

his hand moves to your cheek, tilting it to press a kiss to your face. "i’ll follow you out," which was code for you to leave and close the door behind you as dick freshens up.

and now you understand. dick knew how to fuck.

[lottiies]

THE ART OF SHARING A COWBOY HAT

⇢ arthur morgan x gn!reader + leon kennedy (rdr2 au) x gn!reader

cw: fluff, lighthearted smut, drinking + implications of throwing up, confessions, mentions of children but it’s still gn friendly, prone to typos

note: um i originally wrote this with only arthur in mind but lowkey think it could apply to leon as well, i thought this was a super cute idea !! these are just rambles and written for fun, so excuse any typos eee (⩾﹏⩽)

i. A GENTLEMANLY ACT

you’ve lost count of how many hats you’ve lost over the years — it wasn’t your fault! just a small bicker with a tiny group of o’driscolls usually resulted in your hat being knocked off while you rode your horse and shot at them.

was buying a new one even worth it? with dutch on everyone’s ass about contributing money, not really. as if the bastard actually helped out.

plus…you’d grown to rely on a certain man who always shared his hat with you as if it were co-owned.

amidst a camp out in the open with the sun pouring in through the leaves of the tall trees that surrounded, your eyes were often squinting. everytime you sat in the shade, it moved over within a couple minutes and left you back in the sun. how frustrating.

“you’ll burn to the crisp by letting the sun beam on ya like that.”

before you could look up to face the familiar voice, the bottom of a hat blocked your view and was placed on you. okay, that felt real nice.

or maybe that one time you stumbled out of the saloon, clutching your stomach with your cheeks all puffed, awaiting the harsh liquor that was begging to be thrown out of your system.

it was night time, the dusty dirt paths were still lively with people walking past. but you needed fresh air, so it would have to do.

being the secret softie that he was, he followed you when he noticed that you had practically limped your way out. geez, he’d been in your position too many times — throwing his guts up with his mind swirling.

“lightweight.” he teased, laughing a bit, placing a hand on your back and rubbing it to comfort you.

“oh gimme a break.” you slurred back, already hunched over. “and stay away…’m bout to burst.”

you weren’t kidding.

he placed his hat on you, keeping your face hidden from any passerby’s. because what kind of man would he be if he just let everyone see your pained face? a foolish one, that’s what.

everyone knew he was sweet on you, it was painfully obvious.

ii. SILENT CONFESSION

the air felt still as the two of you stood beside each other, each leaning against the balcony of a hotel. you guys were close, a little too much to be considered just friends.

his elbow was touching yours, and his gaze didn’t stray from you even once. you captivated his entire attention, more so than the clear stars glimmering in the moonlit sky hanging above.

he couldn’t hide his feelings for you, he couldn’t afford to with how unpredictable life was. he didn’t think much of himself, but he’d be damned if he let some other fella swoop in and woo you.

you didn’t need to be helped. there was no sun in your eyes, or rain pouring onto your face, nor was there any need to hide your face.

his eyes strayed to your lips once before looking back into your eyes, trying to read you. the fondness you held gave him some courage.

he took his hat off, his tousled hair now on display, maybe you could run your fingers through it later.

no words were spoken.

he placed his hat on your head, hoping that would convey his message: he wanted to be yours, and for you to be his.

iii. EASING ALL DISTRESSES

having a lover who’s constantly away isn’t for the weak. it has you feeling like a character out of a book who’s described as melancholic, solemnly gazing out into the distance, awaiting the person who sets your soul ablaze and gives you that fuzzy feeling in your stomach.

him.

but he always spends time with you before he leaves, duh.

after he preps his horse for another long journey away, he makes his way over to your worried form. whether you act nonchalant or downright show how concerned you are, it doesn’t matter, he treats you the same, not wanting you to sulk.

“c’mon love, don’t give me that look. i always come back relatively unscathed, don’t i? you’ve got nothing to worry yer pretty little head about.”

you purse your lips. yeah, he was strong and mighty, but you couldn’t get rid of all the thoughts in your head. “yeah, but being worried ain’t a crime.”

with an amused smile, he takes the adornment perched on his head off and puts it atop your own, adjusting it so it fits more properly. “there ya go.”

he always thought you looked awfully beautiful wearing something of his, his hat had always been dear to him, having scratches and flaws here and there from the encounters he faced. it looked perfect on you, and it felt accomplishing, like if the hat itself was some sort of wedding ring.

he cups the side of your face, using his pinky to lift your jaw while his thumb caresses your cheek. “hold onto this for me, okay? keep it on yer head all the time.”

the act alone had you smiling, returning the adoring gaze he looked at you with. he leaned in closer, pressing his lips against yours for a sweet and temporary goodbye.

iv. TANGLED UNDER THE SHEETS

the chilliness of the harsh winter weather seeped through the wood of the cabin. there were plans to get moving somewhere warmer, but it would be a rough journey. maybe you should be resting instead, but you weren’t.

labored breaths and grunts emanated from the room, accompanied by occasional fits of laughter and whispered words. the two of you were going at it like rabbits on your cot, making the room heat up — no chance you were shivering even with the way it was pouring outside.

his hips were snuggled between yours, his cock slowly pumping into you inch by inch. he was going slowly, trying to make the most of the time you guys had here at this cabin.

“i’m getting a cramp, hold on.” you whine the complaint out, needing to get in a different position.

he laughed, peeling himself off you and laying on his back, his chest heaving heavily.

“what are ya laughing at? you try having your legs up in the air for that long.” you huff as you moved over to straddle him.

“i think i’ll pass on that.”

he always thought you looked amazing on top of him, his eyes sparkling with utmost devotion. naked, vulnerable, so willing to show him every part of you. he loved it.

“ya gonna ride me? i think you’re missing something.” without missing a beat, he reached up for his hat, taking it off and sitting up to place it on you. his free hand snaked down to your ass, giving it a couple pats. “that’s better, now you’re ready.”

you grinned, pressing your hands against his chest to push him back down towards the surface of the cot.

he held onto the back of one of your hands, his other one reaching to hold his cock, letting you sink down onto him. he couldn’t take his eyes off your face though, watching as it contorted into one of pure ecstasy.

v. FAMILY HEIRLOOM

he’s a romantic at heart, he liked the idea of having a hat just for the two of you. he has plenty of others though, that can be passed onto any children you two have or take in as a part of your family — ones they could grow into.

that longing came into fruition. his arm was wrapped around your waist, pulling you close. your eyes were trained on your two children, just a couple years apart, running around aimlessly because the hats their pops put on them were so big it covered their eyes.

“careful…” you mumbled under your breath, not wanting them to fall on any branches or injure themselves. not like they heard you, obviously, but your lover did.

“they’re tough as nails already, jus’ like us..” he reassured you, but it was met by a skeptical glance from you, rightfully so.

“i know, i know…they’re so tiny though, i don’t wanna see even a small scrape on them.”

“worrywart.”

[the-summ0ning]

Sleep Token HC: being in a relationship with III

NSFW elements, fluffy ideas that have been ruminating in my head the past couple weeks… to the point I abandoned my main blog to create a side blog for my fav masked men

Easily having scary dog privileges w iii as your man w the slasher-esque aesthetic about him

But we all know that’s not the case

III the bf you lets you play with his rings on his hands when your anxious

Playing with his hair all. the. time! I’m talking twirling the ends, head scratchies, all of it! He hated how much it had an affect on him

He could be going on a tangent laying his head in your lap on the couch after a long day, and he’d instantly shut up melting into your touch once you started playing with his hair!

III the bf who’s love languages involved gift giving, and physical touch

would most likely buy you the most cheesiest, corniest, tourist of tourist souvenirs from each city he went to just to show you how much he thinks of you and misses you. Even if your apartment is overflowing with his little treasures and you had to invest in an a P.O. Box

Receiving ‘Daddy’s Little Meatball’ and ‘I love ___’ shirts all the time, snowglobes, and hats (you definitely got a cheesehead hat when they played in Wisconsin and a cowboy hat with feathers and a tiara when they were in Texas)

Sending you postcards with the most embarrassing, filthiest things written on them like the post men wouldn’t see it

Including but not limited to

‘Hi love, here Down Under thinking when I can I be down under you :( ”

“Visited one of the 7 wonders of the world today, you should be the 8th ;)”

“Can’t wait to show you my Big Ben again <3”

The most fashionable one of the members, every show you attend, he would try to coordinate your two outfits.

Including hairstyles… matching space buns or french braids?!? Are you kidding me?? Or even matching hair colors once in a while??

Speaking of hair, you would have to help him dye his hair, or shave his undercut late at night in the bathroom. Vice versa if you wanted the same color. Indulging on your favorite beverage or a little joint, giggling every time you would get a speck of dark/bright dye on each other. Or jokingly act like you buzzed too much hair to rile him up

He also solely has a folder on his phone dedicated to pictures (including a lot of candid off guards of just you two in your own little world backstage) taken by Adam and crew members of the two of you matching/coordinating

His phone background is of you sitting criss cross on a large equipment case looking down at him leaning against it trying to tune his bass, but his head is leaned back gazing up at you through his mask instead… both with space buns in your hair

Since your relationship couldn’t be public and be blaring obvious to most people you knew, III would get you two permanent bracelets. Yours would have a tiny ‘iii’ on it and his would have a tiny initial of your first name.

Even though he would have to profusely clean it after shows from the red body paint. It was something he was willing to do to carry this cheeky secret.

And somewhere in his favorites folder of his phone he has a picture of your tinier hand trying to wrap around his cock with the dainty chain hung displaying ‘iii’ clearly around your wrist

And ofc a pic of you two facing a mirror with his hand wrapped around your neck displaying your initial proudly on his

Which leads me into

He definitely has a size kink in all different types of aspects

Him loving the fact he was so significantly taller than you (lets face it he’s a a long fuckin string bean), and letting it be known

It always (not so) subtly came out

In his pet names for you: doll, bunny, kitten–anything small and cutesy really…even if they became so unserious or cringe

When he would just casually walk by you, and ruffling your hair calling you ‘squirt’, making you roll your eyes and scoff. (The other band members may have started to do this as well bc of III)

His adrenaline still rushing after a show, great rehearsal, or recording session barreling over to you to give you a bear hug, lifting you off the floor swinging you around profusely

you would be doing something or talking to someone, he’d catch you off guard by coming up behind you resting his chin on the top of your head, giving your shoulders a light squeeze or massage

Watching you struggle for something on a higher shelf, and waiting until you would almost give up in defeat to come up behind you making sure to press his body against the back of you as he did so to leave you flustered

Despite him being a giant, and perfect big spoon material–he wants to be lil spoon most times.

Loving your arms around his waist, feeling the soft heave of your chest pressed against his back as you slept, providing the comfort and peace he needed after a day in his busy life

He’d be in a drunken/high haze and when it would be just the two of you, he would compare his hand to yours always, smiling lazily over at you adoringly

Admire how his hand practically encapsulated the expanse of your throat when you were up against a wall or underneath him.

A small growl leaving his lips, when he tried to fit inside you loving how you squeeze him

“Fuck doll, are you gonna be able to take all of me?” He hisses, pushing your legs further apart

Or watching how’d you have to use two hands and barely fitting him into your palms when you gave him a hand job

“Baby you’re squeezing me so good.” He tries his best to not let his eyes roll to the back of his head, watching you struggle to jerk him

In conclusion, I need this man biblically.. and I got carried away and could have kept going if you guys want me to keep going I can 🤭🥹 I do plan on doing one for the others too. Reblogs, likes, and replies are always appreciated and fuels my validation

[whipped-for-kpop-fics]

There's a snake in my pants - K.MG

🤠Who; Kim Mingyu (Seventeen) x gender-neutral reader 🤠What; Crack/humour. Some fluff. Established relationship. Himbo Mingyu! [I love himbo Gyu] 🤠Word count; 2.3k 🤠Warnings; Profanity. Critter mentions (literally the word critter plus snake but uhhh not the animal). Misuse of a lasso, bad Mingyu, but it's funny dw. And no one gets hurt. Mentions of pervert/voyeur Wonwoo but it's not plot relevant. Very suggestive in general but no smut or actual sexual actions. Reader wears lingerie.

Although there isn't any smut, this is definitely an 18+ fic so Minors do NOT interact. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in the bio.

Summary; Your boyfriend wants to try a new sexy roleplay idea, it doesn't go well.

-2024 Masterlist-

A/N- This goes out to @ourdawnishotterthanourday , I hope you enjoy reading this as if you don't already know exactly what's going to happen anyway from my screaming about the himbo cowboy collective (omg series idea???) Thank you for encouraging me to live my best crack life, sweetheart 💖 And big thank you to @wonuvs for helping me so much with the header, I know it must've been hard to look at shirtless Mingyu so much 💖

Approximately twenty minutes ago, your lovable idiot of a boyfriend told you to go and wait on your bed for him, gave you a wink then skipped off with an excited giggle. Which, cute, yes, but also very very worrying.

As much as you adore Mingyu, you are very aware that he has some rather questionable ideas in general, what with him being what you would call a Class A Himbo; and unfortunately, he has brought those questionable ideas into the bedroom on more than one occasion. There is now a strict rule about no balloons in the bedroom and likely not for the reason you think.

So although you do go to your shared room and get dressed down in a lingerie set you know that he likes, you truly can't say that you exactly have high hopes for whatever your boyfriend has planned.

When the door creaks open, you're confused because all you see is Mingyu's hand appearing from one side to nudge the door open as wide as it can go. It takes a few pushes of his fingers before the door does actually swing open and then his arm darts back. A second later, Mingyu gallops into view and you don't know if you want to laugh or mentally log out more.

Because gallop isn't even an inaccurate description of the way he enters. Like a child pretending to play cowboys with one of those long wooden poles with the plush horse's heads set on one end with attached reigns. You can't tell if the fact he has one of those children's toy horses makes it worse or not. You can't even admire the way his thick thighs, showcased by just the tiny pair of boxer briefs he's wearing, are pressed tight around either side of the thick wooden pole to keep it upright with both of his hands barely fitting on the tiny little loop of faux-leather that makes up the reigns.

All Mingyu is wearing are those tiny little dark boxers that don't even fully cover his asscheeks, a cowboy hat and cowboy boots. Oh, and there's some thin dark rope looped diagonally over his bare chest. That can't be good.

"Howdy partner." Mingyu starts, entirely serious in his roleplay and doing his best to put on the 'cowboy voice' you know that he and his friends have been practising together to be 'real cowboys'.

Even though you're still trying to figure out exactly how you feel about this particular roleplay choice of your boyfriend, you can't help but at least humour him. He's far too cute and sweet in general to not try, at the very least, to play along. "Howdy, cowboy," You reply, a little dumbstruck yet Mingyu lights up brightly all the same.

He wiggles slightly in excitement, forgetting himself a little in his joy, then remembers he's supposed to be a 'sexy, serious cowboy-man' and schools his expression. He doesn't even notice the amused twitch of your lips at his slip. "I'm new to town and I hear you're the person to come to when there's trouble."

"Oh, there's trouble, is there?" You hum and shuffle to sit up against the headboard. You're internally very relieved when he removes the horse and props it against the wall. It's much easier to take him seriously when he's standing there in all his ridiculously handsome glory.

"Yes, ma'am." Oh, you could get used to him saying those words in that voice, pitched slightly lower than normal and a little rough. Maybe their 'cowboy meetings' have been more successful than you've realised. Because Mingyu, nor his friends, have improved very much in the actual horse riding aspect of being a modern-day cowboy. But at least the voice is getting good.

"Sounds serious."

"It is." He steps a little closer, hands on his hips and you can't tell if it's intentional or not but it draws your eyes to his crotch in those tiny boxers leaving nothing to the imagination. Not that you need to imagine what he's packing underneath when he's always so willing to let you see, and feel, and taste. "Do you think you can help a cowboy out, ma'am?"

"Keep calling me ma'am and it sounds pretty likely." You mutter and lift your gaze back up to his face. He's smirking at you now, well aware of how much you love his body. "Tell me, what's the issue, cowboy?"

"Well, you see, it involves a certain critter," You try not to giggle at him using the term critter, you can't help it when all you can think of is the endearing way he and his friends will call any living animal or insect critter; often in a loud screech when a bug flies too close to them.

"Ooh, I see. You have a critter problem."

"That I do, ma'am."

"And a big strong cowboy like you can't handle a single critter?"

"I'm more skilled with the bigger critters."

"So this critter is small?" You wonder how many times the two of you will use the term critter, it really does not help set the mood, just amuses you honestly. This situation has already devolved in your mind and Mingyu hasn't even noticed, he's still very serious about his big-boy cowboy role-play.

"Yes," His face drops. "Wait, no! It's not." He pouts a little, barely a little protrusion of his bottom lip.

"So it's not big enough for you to handle yourself, but it's not small?" He nods and slips back into character. "How big is it exactly?"

"Big enough." You think you understand what he's trying to do here. But you're willing to let it play out at least.

"Okay, give it to me."

"Give it to you?" His eyes round out a little with the excitement those words bring him.

"I mean, tell me what it is." You correct and try not to giggle at the disappointed little oh he lets out, understanding the miscommunication there.

Though, once again, he gets right back into character and locks his serious, sultry gaze on you as the tips of his thumbs hook into the waistband of his boxers without removing his hands from his hips. "There's a snake in my pants." Yup, that's about exactly where you thought he was going with this.

"I can't believe you've defiled my childhood like that, Mingyu." You deadpan, unimpressed. His arms drop along with his expression.

"What? What did I do wrong? It's just a line!" He whines. "Wonwoo taught it to me!"

"Wonwoo?" You sigh. "Baby, what have I told you about listening to Wonwoo where sex is involved?"

"That he's wrong that sitting in the tree outside our window with binoculars isn't a natural biology lesson no matter if he takes notes." He replies in very much the tone of a man who has had those very words drilled into him many times.

"I…well yes, that is a very good one, thank you for remembering." Mingyu perks up a little at your approving response. "But that's not what I meant."

"Uhm," He thinks hard. "That he's wrong that you have to bark during doggy style." That particular memory sends shivers down your spine, you had hoped to forget it.

"Also very correct and please don't bring that up again."

"I'm sorry, I really thought he knew what he was talking about!" Mingyu defends quickly. "He's so smart, baby!"

"Uh," You don't know how to respond. Wonwoo is not smart, he may look scholarly with his glasses and cardigans when he's lounging around, but he is, like your boyfriend, just another pretty himbo. All four of the group are and you still can't tell who's the worst of them. Still, you adore the four and would never change a thing about any of them, even if their dumbassery has caused a lot of trouble since they moved to town. So you move on. "The point is, Gyu, you shouldn't listen to Wonwoo's sex advice, ever. Remember that?"

"Oh, right, yeah, you've said that before." He nods slowly in understanding, looking kind of dejectedly down at the bedframe. He looks like a scolded puppy, it pulls your heartstrings enough to want to try and salvage the situation.

"Was this whole roleplay Wonwoo's idea?" You wonder. Mingyu looks up at you and shakes his head, lips pouted cutely at you and eyes big. "Yours?"

"Yeah. And Seungcheol's. You've never told me not to take sex advice from him!"

Okay, you have to admit, Seungcheol is probably the only one from Mingyu's three besties that you think would give pretty decent sex advice, you know he at least has active ongoing experience with a friend of your own and they've always sung his praises. Wonwoo is…well nobody knows for sure if Wonwoo has ever actually had sex. He kind of gives off horny virgin energy, honestly whenever sexual conversations come up but he's always been pretty smooth when flirting so it could go either way. And the fourth of their group is precious, naive Seokmin; you know he has experience himself but he's a very sweet guy and always seems scandalised when anything out of vanilla is mentioned.

"Okay, then I'm willing to pick this back up if you really want to try it, sweetheart."

"I do!" Mingyu beams and suddenly looks as if you've offered him the world on a silver platter, drizzled in sweet syrup ready for him to slurp up. Oh, does that remind you of another one of his slightly less questionable bedroom surprises. But that's an entirely different story. "Okay, okay," Mingyu takes a few breaths to calm his visible joy, it's so cute watching him bring his hands up as he inhales deeply then turn and push them palms downwards to the floor as he exhales.

He may have some very odd ideas, but man, did you score an adorable sweetheart of a boyfriend who you hope will never change and always remain this way. You've not even been together that long, just a handful of months really, but you're pretty sure he's it for you. Your forever. The one you want to spend the rest of your life with.

When he's collected himself, he turns back to you and decides to entirely bypass the whole snake in his pants section, wisely so you think, and starts to remove the ropes from around his torso. He only knocks his hat off twice, though you barely notice because now all you can think about is the fact that it seems like you won't be the one to have to bring up bondage.

While you're wondering if your big beefy boyfriend is about to hogtie you and have his way with you, Mingyu gathers the long rope in his right hand and then takes one end into his left. It's then that you notice the very distinct large loop in one end.

Horror spreads through your body as you realise that Kim Mingyu has brought a fucking lasso into the bedroom. "Gyu-" You start in warning yet he's already pulling his arm back and launching the rope in your general direction. You yelp automatically, expecting to get hit in the face, yet it doesn't touch you. There's a loud crash on your right so you look over only to find that the only remaining one of the pair of bedside lamps is now in pieces on the hardwood flooring, the loop of Mingyu's lasso caught around the shade. It's like the balloon incident all over again. And now you have no bedside lamps, thanks to Kim Mingyu.

There's pure silence for a tense few seconds as you both stare dumbly at the mess on the floor.

Mingyu's whisper breaks the silence "Fuck." And then you burst into howling laughter. "Babe!" He whines but you can't stop, toppling over onto your side on the bed with the power of your laughs.

The whole situation has been a mess from start to finish. It's a miracle you lasted this long without some kind of breakdown. You're just glad it's the laughing kind and not the mental kind.

It takes a minute of poutily grumbling about working him hard on the scenario, learning how to tie a lasso knot and modelling endless hats and boots for his friends so they can help him pick the right ones before the humour of it all actually hits Mingyu.

It starts with a little giggle and then he looks between you and the broken lamp a few times and has to flop across the bed as he laughs along with you, uncaring that his hat falls off.

Slowly, both of you stop laughing and calm enough to look at each other. You're still grinning like fools and there are tear tracks down your cheeks from it, but you're happy. He's happy. That's all that matters.

Mingyu shuffles over to you in a manner that makes giggles bubble out of your throat until he's on his side close enough to lean in and press a soft kiss to your lips. "I love you," He informs gently when he pulls back to look adoringly into your eyes. Your expression softens and quickly melts into the mirror of his own as you brush your fingertips over his cheek.

"I love you too." You reply, smiling as he lays his hand over the back of yours to hold it in place as he turns his head to kiss your palm, planting his love right there where you can keep it safe for as long as you want to. And then he looks back at you and holds your palm to his cheek. "Just no more lassos in the bedroom,"

Mingyu laughs and nods in agreement. "No more lassos in the bedroom."

"House in general. Indoors. No lassos indoors."

"Okay, baby," He giggles and kisses you once more sweetly before getting up and picking his hat up off the mattress to plop on your head when you sit up. You adjust it so that you can watch as he crouches down beside the broken lamp to begin cleaning up the mess you made. And as you watch him, there's only one thought on your mind.

Yeah, he really is it for you.

A/N- Believe it or not, the original idea that caused this one has a much higher crack content and I may have to write that too. This story can be considered a spin-off of that, or one in the collection of the same universe focused on the 4 himbos and their adventures.

[miniwheat77]

Save a horse. (Tommy Miller x Farmhand!Reader.)

(I read a fic that mentioned the cowboy hat rule, cannot for the life of me remember which fandom or who the fic was about but that’s a bit of my inspo for this.)

!NSFW, animal death, animal attack, guns, wounds, virginity loss, unprotected p in v sex, 18+ MDNI!

"Who's that?" Joel asks Sarah. He spots a very tired looking girl, she's got plain jeans and a band shirt on. Her face is bruised to hell.

Joel is parked in the drop off line outside of Sarah’s school.

"Oh.. that's Y/N. She's a super senior."

"Why's her face all messed up like that?" He's confused. Sarah sighs. "Nobody really knows but.. before she turned 18, CPS would get involved a lot so.. it's rumored her dad does it." Sarah shrugs. "Jesus." He shakes his head. Tommy sits in the passenger seat. Glancing at Joel. "You friends with her?"

"No."

"Why not?" He asks. "Cause.. nobody likes her." She shrugs. "Excuse me?" He turns to look back at her. "Dad." She huffs. He looks at Tommy. Tommy glances back at her. "Not cool dude. Maybe she needs a friend." Tommy looks back. "Yeah well, I don't. So whatever." She rolls her eyes. “She’s a super senior anyways, she’s way older than me.” She mumbles. Climbing out of the car to go up to the school. "Christ in heaven I thought I raised her better than that." Joel shakes his head.

Tommy shrugs. "She's a kid, kids are cruel."

"Yeah, now to drop you off." Joel rolls his eyes. "Don't even start with me Joel."

"You're lucky this guy is allowing you to do farm work for community service. If not, you'd be picking up trash off the side of the road like everybody else." Joel laughs. Tommy is on probation for a few months along with a thousand hours of community service. He had his work cut out for him.

The drive is quiet, Tommy is nervous but he knows he shouldn't be. The farm isn't too far out of town, maybe fifteen minutes or so, which is nice.

Joel drops him off at the gated dirt road that leads up to the farm and Tommy says he'll call a cab for a ride to Joel's. That's where he's staying for now.

Tommy makes his way up the dirt road, up to the massive farmhouse that's a little dingy. It needs new siding and paint. He knocks at the door, glancing around to get a good look at the farm. "What?" The man opens the door. He's gruff, an old man. "Hi, I'm Tommy. I'm supposed to help out for some community service." He explains. "Ah, nice to meet ya. I'm Jacob." He shakes Tommy's hand, he's got a firm handshake. "Let me show you around." He mumbles. He wastes no time to get right to the point.

For the next couple of hours he shows Tommy everything he's gonna be doing. He shows him how to care for the animals. Driving the extra farm truck to haul hay bales out to the pastures for the cows, feeding the chickens and collecting the eggs. Making sure the animals are in their designated pins at night, and to let them out in the early morning. It doesn't seem too tough.

"Me n my wife are going out of town tonight to pick up some furniture or some shit. Whatever the ol' lady wants. Be gone a few days. The kid will be here to help you figure everything out."

Tommy nods. "Kid?" He asks. "Ah. It's a girl I took in when she was a baby." Tommy wonders why he didn't call you his daughter. "She not here?" He asks. "No. She's at school right now." Tommy nods. "Anyways, we got a little guest house. It's small, you can stay there while you work on the farm if you want. The commute to get here at 5am sucks." He nods. Tommy nods. "Thank you sir. I appreciate it."

When all of the morning work is done, Tommy retreats into the guest house to check it out. It is small, about the size of a shipping container. Just like a tiny house. But it's perfect, considering Tommy has been staying with Joel. He takes the time to call Joel and let him know where he'll be staying and not to worry about him, then he takes a nap until the evening farm work.

When it's about time for the later farm work, he hears the loud diesel farm truck disappearing down the dirt road, letting him know that Jacob and his wife had left. He makes his way out, thinking he's alone when he catches a glimpse of a girl carrying a bucket into the hen house. He makes his way across the dirt road and walks up to the entrance where she is. He opens up the chicken wire door.

"Hey." He smiles. When you turn to look at him, he recognizes you immediately, by the massive bruise you have around your eye. "Hey, you must be Tommy." You say, turning back. Your attire now is far different than it was. Boots, bootcut jeans, and a wife beater. You had gloves on your hands. "Yeah, I didn't catch your name." He reaches a hand out and you shake it. "Y/N." You nod. He smiles. "Right, nice to meet ya. I'll be your farm hand for the next couple weeks" he laughs. You smile. "Cool."

"Your dad is cool with leaving you here with a stranger?" He tilts his head. "He ain't my dad. He knows I can handle myself. But he really doesn't care what happens to me." You mumble. He nods. "Right. Seems that way. That's a hell of a shiner, girl." He laughs. He can see you stiffen slightly. "Yeah, his wife packs a hit."

"She hits ya?"

You nod your head. "Nothing but a drunken bitch." You mumble, tipping the bucket of feed over for the chickens, they all start flocking at your feet and you step over them to get away. Tommy follows you around. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Don't be." You laugh.

"He show you around?" You ask. He nods his head. "Cool. Thanks for the help Tommy."

He stops following after you, figuring that he should start on another side entirely and help you. He'd meet you some time down the line.

For the next few days, it's the same. Every morning you're awake in the early morning helping Tommy with the work load, every night you're doing more work. He wonders how you balance it with school but you seem to figure it out. He imagines that’s why you’re stuck in high school for another year. Probably held back. He can only imagine how this work takes a toll on your schooling.

Tommy is finishing up work, you've been inside a while now. He was just finishing up putting the chickens away when he hears commotion from the stable. An area Tommy was told not to worry about, Jacob said you'd handle it because you knew the horses better and he didn't want Tommy getting hurt.

Tommy understood.

He can hear the horses going crazy. Something definitely isn't right. He thinks about going and looking for himself but decides he should go get you instead. Feeling bad that he's pulling you away from your free time once more.

He makes his way to the farm house and knocks at the door. You open up the door, looking at him. You're still wearing jeans and that wife beater you like. Only now he can see you don't have a bra on. Your jeans hug your hips and ass just right. He needs to focus. "Something wrong?" You ask. "Uh.. well. Yeah. I just hear the horses going nuts, something doesn't sound right." He explains. "Alright." You nod. Cracking the door for a second. He doesn't see you reach for the table by the door, grabbing the pearl gripped handle, tucking it into your waistband and covering it with your shirt.

You follow him out to the stable and when you step in front of him to enter, he spots it.

Realizing why Jacob trusted you to hold your own.

He smiles to himself. He follows you inside, seeing you shine a flashlight into each of the stalls, but the stall on the end has the lock broken off. "Shit." You mumble. "What?"

"Horse got out." You mumble. You can see in the dirt where she'd taken off, so you follow her hoofprints. Your flashlight passes along the disturbed dirt. You spot the other footprints right away.

"Wait." You stop immediately, Tommy nearly runs into you.

"What?"

"Mountain Lion." You glance. You can't hear anything.

"Shit, stay close Tommy." You mumble. Starting to walk faster.

After a few minutes of walking. you can hear her. Your fast walk turns into a full sprint.

"Shit!" He hears you. You shine your flashlight up, now he can see it, the cat holds onto her back. Clawing at her. "Tommy, ears!" You yell. You grasp the pistol out of your waistband and draw it, aiming at the cat. Tommy covers one ear as you fire the gun a few times. He hears the cat yowl, letting go of the horse and running off. Clearly wounded. Both of your ears ring.

You stand back for a second while your horse continues to panic. She's in a frenzy, bucking and spinning in circles. You start walking slowly toward her, soothing her as you move toward her. "Shhh... it's okay. It's alright." You breathe. Hearing your voice alone she starts to settle. Eyes wide and she shakes her head. She's hurt. You get even closer, reaching out and petting along her neck to calm her.

When she's finally calm, you grab hold of her reigns and start walking back toward the stables with her.

When you get her back, finally getting a good look at her. You can see the deep gashes and bites on her backside. "You can head in Tommy. M'just gonna clean her up." You mumble. "Nah, I want to help. Tell me how I can." He mumbles.

You look at him, almost shocked. Like you're not used to people helping you. You start telling him how to help you. You flush her wounds and dress them, patching her up. Asking Tommy to get you some stuff here or there, but most of the time he just watches. When you're finished, you hesitate. The sun is starting to rise.

"I can handle the morning work if you wanna get some sleep."

He laughs. Your horse is back inside the stable, the door now repaired thanks to Tommy. "I'm fine, darlin." He laughs. "I can sleep when morning work is finished. Maybe you should go up and get some sleep before school."

"Nah, I won't go today." You grasp the gun off of the workbench. "I'm gonna go after that cat, make sure it's dead."

"Alone? I don't think so." He mumbles. You laugh.

———

He helps you find the cat. Seeing that it hadn't made it far from where you'd shot it. You're a good shot. Tommy helps you pack it back to the house. You dress it and skin it, telling Tommy to get started on the farm work while you cut it up. It surprises him at first, there's seemingly nothing you can't do. But he knows the meat is useful, it definitely won't go to waste.

He listens this time. Starting in on the work and letting the chickens out. A few hours later he catches up to what you've already finished. Your half of the work. He spots you sitting up in the hay loft of the barn, legs dangling over the edge. It's been almost a week of Tommy working here. Your dad has been gone nearly this entire time. Your face is even mostly healed.

He makes his way up the ladder, walking up behind you. He sits down next to you, dangling his legs over too. He's tired, exhausted really. But he's not worried. He sits next to you in silence. You'd gone in and taken a shower. Your hair was still damp. The collar of your clean wife beater was nearly transparent from the water. He could smell your body wash and whatever it was, it smelled really good. He felt bad, he still hadn't cleaned up.

"How old are you, Tommy?" You break the silence.

"Ah, I'm 32." He mumbles. "And you're doing community service why?" You turn to look at him. He laughs. He gets embarrassed. Usually Tommy didn't mind telling a funny story of him putting some asshole in his place, but when it comes to you, he feels different. Like he needed to be good, he didn't want you to think of him as some convict. "Cause I'm a dumbass."

You raise an eyebrow.

"I like to drink and have too much fun doing it. Get myself into trouble sometimes." He laughs. "Yeah, a fight?" You look at him. "Mhm. Some guy mouthing off to me in a bar." You nod your head. "Was it worth it?" You look up at him. You're clearly judging him. "Well. I suppose you wouldn't have got to spend time with the coolest guy ever if I hadn't.. so." You roll your eyes with a scoff. "Whatever." You laugh. "That stuff is stupid, yknow?" You look at him. He smiles. "I know. You think I'd learn." He mumbles.

"You a cowboy Tommy?" You ask. "Not really nah." He mumbles. "So what's with the cowboy hat?"

"Had it for a long time." He shrugs. You nod. It's a light colored cowboy hat. "Why don't you wear one?" He asks.

"Not my style."

"Yeah, you like band shirts right?" The words have left his mouth before he realizes just how creepy it will sound.

You look at him in surprise. "I.. wait." He laughs. "I ain't a creep, my Neice goes to the same school and I saw you walking in the doors. A few days ago." You nod. "Gotcha." You mumble. "Who's your niece?"

"Sarah Miller."

You nod your head. "How’d you know it was me?"

"That big ol' shiner made her dad point you out, asked how you got it. She's kind've a spoilt brat." He mumbles. You nod your head. "Right." You laugh. "So.. why don't you wear that stuff at school?" He asks. You shrug. "Don't really want people to know. They're mean enough to me as is." You laugh. He nods. "What's with the wife beaters here? Why don't you wear that stuff at home?" He asks.

"I wear these jeans cause they go around my boots. Wear boots cause I'd ruin normal shoes in just a couple days with mud and stuff. The jeans go over the boots so I don't get stickers and thorns in them. And I rip holes in my shirts and get stains all over em. You can buy like 5 of these in a pack at Walmart for cheap and it doesn't matter if I ruin em." You pause. "And I just wear that stuff to school because they're not farm clothes. Not exactly my style anyways." He nods.

"Makes sense to me. I don't know why I keep the hat. Just like it I guess. Never really had a reason to wear it."

He adjusts his hat and you smile, reaching for it. He catches your wrist. "Ah- you know the cowboy hat rule." He smirks. "What?" You look confused.

"You take a cowboys hat, you have to ride the cowboy." He smirks.

Your eyes widen slightly. "I didn't know that, actually. Thanks for your info Tommy, you pervert." He laughs. "Keeps girls from taking hats, right?"

You stand up, snatching it off of his head. "Does it?" You smirk. You take a few slow steps backward. He turns back to look at you. "Oh, it's like that huh?" He smirks. He stands up, looking at you. "You gonna run from me, hm?" He smirks, taking slow steps toward you. You set it down on your head, tugging it down slightly. "How about you come take it back, big boy." You smirk. He makes a move toward you and you go to turn around to run away but he's faster, grasping onto you. You try to squirm out of his grasp, laughing. He makes a 'tsk tsk' sound with his tongue. You squirm even more, until the both of you are tilting over into the hay, a gasp leaving your lips when you land on top of him. "Shit-" he laughs.

Your cheeks are beat red as you straddle his waist.

He picks up his hat that had fallen at some point, propping himself up on the hay bale. "Why don't you show me what you got, cowgirl." He smirks, setting the hat back onto your head. "Don't think you're ready for it."

"Think you'd be surprised." He's sly. You gnaw at your lip for a second.

"Fine." You mumble. You reach for your waistband.

He looks at you in surprise. He really didn't think he'd get this far. Once you've got your jeans off completely, his hands are on your hips. He feels bad because his hands are dirty. You deserve a better situation. You work at his jeans, unbuttoning them and unzipping them. Tugging the waistband of his boxers down to free his cock. He hisses when you clutch him in your hand. Your hands are soft.

You move up onto him, raising yourself onto your knees and lowering yourself onto his cock. The fat tip of his cock presses past your folds, you swallow him up. "Oh fuck-" he gasps. You lower down around him completely. You squeeze around him, wincing slightly. He catches it, but assumes it's just because you're not used to him.

"Shit." You rock your hips forward. He groans out. "Damn baby. You're so tight." He grits his teeth, seeing you smile.

Your nipples harden and he can see them under the wife beater you've got on. You never did put a bra on. He hisses. "I think I like this more than your band shirts darlin'" You lower your head to where he's looking, seeing the way you look. You roll your eyes. "Yeah, don't want every guy starin' at my tits all day, Tommy." You roll your eyes, the entire time you haven't stopped rocking your hips into him. Bracing yourself and lifting off of him. He notices you don't seem to be all of that into it, not at first anyways. It takes a little bit before you relax into him. Letting out small pants. He glances down, swallowing hard when he sees blood. "I didn't mean t'hurt you honey. Been a while? You even been with a guy as old as me?" He sees you roll your eyes.

"No, and no it hasn't been a while. It's been never." You laugh. He grasps hold of your hips to stop you. "What? What do you mean?"

"I've never done this before."

His eyes widen. "Shit-" he stops you completely. "Why didn't you say something? I wouldn't have-"

You laugh. "That's why I didn't say anything." You cut him off.

"Y/N..." he hesitates.

"Tommy. I'm a big girl and I know what I want. You ain't hurting me, I'm fine. Now shut up." You shake your head, rocking into him. He hisses. No wonder you're so tight.

He flips you over. Rutting his hips into you. He slows down, giving you time to adjust to him properly and taking his time with you. You really start to react to him, clutching onto him. Your eyes are slightly wider than before. Pupils blown out. You're letting out little mewls and cries and it's how he knows you're getting close. Tommy has been riding the edge for a few minutes. Not wanting to cum too fast and embarrass himself.

"T-Tommy." You grit your teeth. "I.. I think I-"

"Look at me darlin'" he says through gritted teeth. "Look at me when you cum sweet girl. Show me how you do it." He smiles. You look up at him, clutching onto his shirt. He hits his high the same time you do, thrusting into you harder than he intends. Hearing you cry out when you cum. Eyes rolling back before they screw shut. He doesn't pull out. He fills you right up with his cum.

He tries not to blush, having been so long since he's been with someone. Tommy doesn't think he's ever been with a Virgin before. This was new for him. "I'm sorry if I hurt ya."

"You didn't.. I got blood all over you though Tommy. 'M sorry." You blush.

He shakes his head. "I don't care baby, you know that. I care more that I made you bleed."

You shake your head. "It didn't hurt that bad. Nothing I couldn't handle." You mumble. He laughs, moving to lay next to you on the hay. He traces your lips with his thumb. "You should've told me. Coulda made your first time at least a little more special. It's supposed to be."

"I don't think I would've wanted it any other way Tommy." You laugh. "Just.. pretend like I wasn't."

"I can't do that. To be honest. It's.. the best I've ever felt." He runs his palm down his jeans. He's tucked his dick back into his jeans by now. Clearly Tommy had liked it, way more than you thought he had. You laugh. "Stick around and maybe it won't be your last with me." You mumble, standing up. "Cmon. I'll let you use the bathroom in the house to clean up. Sure Jacob has some old shorts lying around while I wash your jeans." You nod.

A couple hours later, Tommy's jeans are hung up on a clothes line to dry and he lays in your bed next to you, wearing a pair of old shorts that haven't been worn in decades.

You're sound asleep next to him. His phone buzzes with a text.

Howdy Tommy, Jacob here. Turns out the ol' lady likes it in the big city. Y/N is gonna be pissed when I tell her but you and her are gonna be taking on all the work load until the farm is sold.

Tommy swallows hard. This was about to drive a wrench right through his plans.

Thanks for the heads up Jacob. I can always break the news to her if you don't want to. But outta curiosity, how much are you going to sell your farm for?

There ain't much to it anymore. The house is pretty run down. All we got are just some horses, cows, and chickens. Probably a couple hundred thousand.

I'd be interested. Maybe we should wait to tell Y/N. If I buy it, she's more than welcome to finish out her school here.

Tommy swallows hard, glancing at you as you slept. He wondered if you'd hate him or love him for this.

Sounds good to me Tommy. Either way the girl would figure it out.

———

A couple weeks later, the farmhouse is fully in Tommy's name. He drained his savings for it, but it's his. And it's the only thing Tommy has ever had. And even though Joel thought it was a horrible idea, Tommy didn't. Not as long as you were here. Tonight, he was breaking the news to you.

"So uh.. can we talk?" He asks.

Your relationship had been strictly platonic after that day in the hay loft. You hadn't made another move and Tommy hadn't pushed. But since Jacob had been gone for so long, he'd been helping you cook dinner and he'd been inside the house a lot.

He figured you'd be really mad at him after he tells you what he's about to. You sit down on the couch across from him. Opposite him and between the two of you lies an antique coffee table. "What's going on?"

"A couple weeks ago.." he sighs. "The morning after uh... the hay loft." He laughs. Looking down at his hands. They're entwined together in his lap. "I got a text message from Jacob." He mumbles. Running his hand over his stubble. "He said that uh.. his wife liked it in the big city." He looks up at you.

"He ain't coming back, is he?" You ask.

Tommy hesitates for a second. Shaking his head. "He.. said that you and I would be working here until he sells the farm."

He can see the tears gathering in your eyes. "But.. did he say anything about me? About where I go? My horses?" You stand up. "Hey- just sit down alright? Relax." He breathes. He makes his way round the table, sitting down next to you. "He told me how much he was selling the farm for. It wasn't all that much." He bites at his lip. "But no. He didn't say anything about you. And he said everything goes."

You look down. "Why did you wait so long to tell me this?"

"Because. I just.. had to think about some things alright? But the farm sold."

He can see your heart break in your chest, so this is where he needs to say it. Your eyes are fixed on the coffee table in front of you. Tears pool at your waterline but you don't let them fall.

"He sold it to me."

Your eyebrows narrow, eyes drawing up from the coffee table to look at him. "What?"

"I bought it from him."

You say nothing else for a minute. Before standing up. "Tommy, I'm sorry but are you stupid?" He laughs, surprised at the words coming out of your mouth.

"This farm is nothing but a burden. The work sucks and it's worth nothing!"

"You really think so?" He smiles.

"Tommy. You had the opportunity to leave all of this behind and forget about this stupid farm and everything on it. I would've forged his signature on anything you needed to get away. Why didn't you?"

"Cause.. Y/N." He smiles. "I'm nothing but a fucking wreck outside of this farm. Having something that relies on me like these animals, it gives me something to keep out of trouble for. And I don't mind it all. I quite like it actually." He laughs.

"Now.. for.. what I was gonna bring up." He wipes his eyebrow. "You're more than welcome to stay. You don't have to move anything at all, you don't even have to help me with the work load like you do now, just focus on school n I'll take care of ya. On one condition."

You look at him.

"I'll need your help fixing it up." He smiles.

"Okay." You nod. Looking down. "Okay Tommy. Thank you."

"Hey. No need to stress alright? We'll get this farm back in business and get this shit handled." He claps his hands together. "But it's late and you got school tomorrow, so you better go get some sleep." He smiles.

———

For the next couple months, Tommy sells a bunch of old farm equipment and spends every single dime putting it back into the farm. The biggest thing that needed updating was the farm house and the barn. He focused on those things and even had Joel out to help him with it. When the farmhouse and barn were completely updated, it really started coming together.

They had new siding, new paint, the insides were completely updated and remodeled. Even Joel couldn't deny just how nice it looked. The kitchen had brand new countertops, he got your bathroom sink working and not leaking for the first time in your life. It was amazing.

After that though, Tommy hit a dry spell.

Tommy spent the next few months doing contract work with Joel. Outside of bills, he saved every single dime he made. After the winter was over, he started in on everything else and since you had graduated. You slaved away day and night helping him alongside Joel.

You drew up some plans with Tommy and completely changed everything about the farm. Made an entire blueprint for where the animal pins will be, where they'll fit best. He fixed up the horse stables, and found a few new animals to add to the farm. He got in new calves, sold off some cows, got more chickens and added ducks. He even helped you start a garden and it seemed to flourish.

It didn't take too long after that. Once the farm was in the swing of things, it had already paid for itself along with all of Tommy's debt and he didn't owe a single thing aside from regular bills. But groceries didn't cost much since he grew his own, he had a massive savings account for any reason at all. Maybe some vet bills here or there. But that was it.

Joel was proud.

"I gotta say little brother, I'm impressed." Joel nudges him with his elbow. "Trust me, if you're shocked, I'm even more shocked." He laughs. "You've done pretty damn good. I mean this is the longest you've been off probation in how many years?" Joel laughs. "Ah. I think I'm over all that stuff. I love it out here. No people to piss me off. I'm always busy so I got no free time to fuck this up for myself. I think I'll hold onto it." He smiles.

"I gotta ask though." Joel's eyes follow your form as you walk out of the newly finished chicken coop.

Same tight bootcut jeans and a wife beater. "What about the girl?"

"What about her?"

"Why'd you take her in? Trying to play dad?"

Tommy laughs. "Oh god no. Y/N.. she's about like talking to a fifty year old woman. She doesn't get bossed around and she's a good girl. Works real fucking hard." Tommy slicks his hair back. "Jacob is a real prick, I only met the guy once though. You know the story. I couldn't just tell her to get lost."

"You ain't like.. in a relationship with her or something like that... right?"

"Nah, nothing like that." Tommy's cheeks flush.

"You said that like you wouldn't be mad if you were."

"Well.. we're definitely past the friend stage if you know what I mean." Tommy laughs, leaning up against the fence post. "Jesus Christ Tommy. The hell happened? That girl is real young." Joel shakes his head. "She's over eighteen Joel. And It only happened once, 'bout a year ago. Couple months after I first got here." Joel nods. "What exactly happened?"

Tommy laughs. "She took my hat."

Joel is confused for a second, realization crossing over his face when he realizes the kind of hat Tommy has on.

Tommy leans off the post and starts walking away. "Jesus Christ." Joel rolls his eyes. "Cowboy hat rules Joel!" Tommy calls to him. Joel starts to follow after him. "Crazy motherfucker.." he shakes his head.

———

You sat across from Tommy, you'd made him dinner.

You couldn't be more grateful for Tommy coming into your life. You'd most likely be in some dingy apartment in the city or on the streets. He saved you pretty much. Thats why you'd gotten him a gift. You had just finished dinner, Tommy was looking at his phone. "If you wanted to go get some sleep, I'll pick up." He looks up at you. "Alright." You smile. "Before I go though, I got you something." He looks up at you. You pass over the box. It's a gift box and he looks confused.

"What's this for?" He asks. Sliding it closer to him. "It's.. a thank you." You mumble. He opens it and sees snake skin. "It's a hat band." You mumble. "Was gonna go for copperhead but the western diamond back had the rattles crossed over each other on the front." You blush. "That's awesome." He smiles. "Show me how to put it on?" He asks. "Yeah. Course." He takes his hand off and sets it down. You pick up the hat band and slide it down onto the cowboy hat. Noting to steal it and clean it for him later because it's dirty. Once the hat band is on, he places it back on his head.

"I appreciate it. This couldn't have been cheap." You roll your eyes. "Doesn't matter how much it was. It's to say thank you. For.. takin' care of me." He smiles. "I'll always take care of you, alright? Besides. I need help here. Even when you decide to run off at some point." He laughs.

"Now go get some sleep honey."

You stand up and push your chair in, going to walk past him.

Just as you pass by, your hand moves up. Snatching the cowboy hat off of his head. He turns to look at you. Flirty smile on his lips. "Orrr..." you smile. Setting the hat right on top of your head. "Maybe we can pick it up later." You've got an evil grin on your face. He stands up. "Think I like your idea better." He chuckles. He walks toward you, lifting you up so you can wrap your legs around his waist, carrying you up the stairs. "This is how it should've been for your first time, you know?" He smiles. You roll your eyes. "I think if someone asked me 'how'd you lose your virginity?' And I told them it was in a hay loft with a farm hand, it'd be more interesting than a bed." You smirk. He laughs. Rolling his eyes.

"You're somn else." He mumbles. He sets you down at the edge of the bed. Reaching for his waistband. You were actually wearing shorts and a t-shirt for once. Something you'd picked out. He offered to buy you better clothes but you didn't want them. Just wanted the comfortable ones.

He takes a deep breath as you tug your shirt over your head. Seeing all of you for the first time. When he's gotten his clothes off and they're discarded on the floor, he's back on the bed. You're crawling on top of him. Making due, cowboy hat rules after all.

You line him up with your entrance, he gasps when you sheath yourself on his cock. Feeling your tight walls once again. You look down at him. Raising your hips up and watching him grit his teeth as you rock into him. He tugs you down, your chest flush to his and he kisses you for the first time.

He doesn't let go, even when you're ready to draw back for air, he keeps you there. When he finally pulls away, you sit back. Sitting straight up on him now. Your nipples are hard, lips blushing and swollen from his now. He glides his hands up your hips and cups your breasts in his hands. Toying with your nipples. Your hair is damp with sweat and it's the sexiest thing Tommy has ever seen. You. All you. How the hell he got himself here after nothing but being a complete ass, he'll never understand. He runs his hands up your thighs, resting his palms on the tops of them. "Stay." The words leave his lips before he has time to stop himself.

You pause your movements. Chest rising and falling with each breath you take. "What?"

"Stay here with me."

"I'm.. here Tommy." You breathe. "No. I mean.." he hesitates. "I want you here with me, always. I know you hate it here but.. I can take care of you."

"Are you.. asking me if I'll-"

"I want you to be mine. Here. Forever."

Your lips start to part in surprise, your eyes seeming glossed over. "I don't hate it here Tommy. To be honest.. it's the best it's ever been. I didn't want to leave." You shake your head. "I'll stay Tommy. But you have to stay on the straight and narrow. If you start to fuck up, I'll leave." You look down at him. "I wouldn't dream of fucking that up. Not with you. Not here."

You rock your hips into him again. Picking up the pace. "You're mine, I'll show you." He breathes. He grasps you, flipping you over like he'd done before. But this time, he doesn't slow. He's more rough than before, fucking you. He wants you to feel him. Every bit of him. He holds onto you, tight. He keeps you steady as he hammers his hips into yours, the bed frame slamming into the wall with each forceful thrust he takes. Tears gather in your eyes, not sure if you were exactly ready to take this much force but you were going to. You can feel that knot forming in your stomach. The coil wound up tight, you cry when it snaps. Sending you spiraling. Your pussy clamps down around Tommy's cock and he hisses.

He can feel you throbbing around him and it sends him into his own orgasm. Whining out. Again, he doesn't pull out. Your eyes widen when you can feel him. All of him. You're full, his warmth settles between your legs and he collapses on top of you. He's panting.

Right here, right now. This is nothing Tommy imagined he'd ever want. But it's what he needed. And he was so grateful for it.

[buckymorelikefuckme]

don't overdue it

bucky barnes x librarian reader

words: 850

a/n: it's not much but it's honest work *tips cowboy hat* not proofread! but big thanks to @brandycranby for taking a gander at it :') any and all mistakes are mine. feedback is encouraged & appreciated ♡

part 1 ❀

When Bucky returns to the library in the hopes of surprising you and maybe asking you to lunch, he is not prepared for the events that follow.

He's heading straight for the circulation desk, assuming that's where you'll be, but sweet, tinkering laughter pulls his attention to the left and he promptly trips over his own feet. Your hands are on the table in front of you as you lean into it. The way your spine curves should be a crime. It makes your ass stick out in an extremely enticing manner, and Bucky may have physical strength, but mentally he is weak.

The tennis skirt that peeks out from under your pink cardigan is… tiny. Are you allowed to wear something that short to work? Surely not. Right? Like, there has to be rules against everything currently happening, to keep innocent people from imploding at such a visual.

He watches as you turn your head to muffle fresh giggles into your shoulder, the women sitting around the table, who he's just now noticed, joining in. You press your finger to your lips, trying to shush them, but your frame shakes with the effort of keeping quiet.

He’s gonna give himself an aneurysm if he keeps imagining what it'd be like to stand behind you in that position, hands possessively on your hips, perhaps with less clothes between you.

By the time he shakes the mental image from his brain, you're walking away, waving to the women at the table as they push their chairs in. You turn a corner and he hurries to follow. He's determined, goddamnit. The flirting over text after your first date the other night has been cute and all, but he couldn't wait another minute to see you.

When he takes the same turn as you, entering an aisle of tall bookshelves, he trips over his feet for a second time. You're on a stepladder, stretched onto your tip-toes as you try to put a book away. Bucky has a clear view of the swell of your ass and the baby blue lace covering it beneath your skirt.

“Did I fall and slam my head into the ground? Am I dreaming?”

His voice startles you, making you wobble precariously. He strides over to steady you. It's only after he has your hips in a tight grip that he realizes what he's done, and yet he can't seem to remove his hands.

“Bucky,” you murmur in surprise, looking over your shoulder at him. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I wanted to ask you to lunch, but now I'm having very ungentlemanly thoughts and I think I should probably leave before I do something I’ll regret.”

Even though he says it, he makes no move to leave whatsoever.

Your small hands come to rest atop his. “Why don't you help me down, big guy?”

Bucky jolts into action, slowly guiding you off the ladder until you're on even flooring and smiling up at him, eyes twinkling in amusement. He drops his hands as he feels his ears go hot.

“Thank you.”

He nods. “You're welcome.”

You hold his stare for a moment, then tilt your head, letting out a soft giggle. He's pretty sure you're laughing at him, but he honestly couldn't care less, not if it makes you happy. He will gladly make an idiot of himself every single day if it means he gets to hear that adorable giggle.

“You're so cute,” you say with a sigh.

He blinks incredulously. “I’m cute? Have you seen yourself? You're like the CEO of Cute Patoot. You look like you mastered in Charming Everyone You Meet with a minor in Wooing Even the Crankiest of People. When you sneeze, thirty fairies get their wings. Every time you laugh you heal a blind person. Your smile could literally end wars. You—”

“Oh my god, stop,” you plead, laughing so hard you gasp for breath.

“You just gave sight to like, at least five people.”

You shove his shoulder as more laughter bubbles out of you. Bucky grins, powerless to stop himself. He's so far gone and you've only been on the one date. He's fucking screwed.

You manage to calm down, wiping at your eyes. “Didn't you mention something about lunch?” you ask.

“I did,” he confirms. “But honestly, all I wanna do now is kiss you for a little while. I could live off that for probably two days.”

You roll your eyes with a huff. “Not this again,” you mumble.

“I’m so serious.”

“I know you are, which is the absurd part of this whole situation,” you reply, shaking your head with a smile.

“How about this,” he starts, tangling his fingers with yours, “I’ll still take you to lunch, but only after I get a kiss.”

You groan playfully and it makes Bucky’s stomach tingle.

“Okay, okay, fine. One kiss.”

He refrains from clicking his heels and shouting yippee! but it's a near thing. The way you're looking at him makes him think you know anyway. Oh well. You're still leaning up to press your pouty lips against his, so who's winning?

[stillxnunpxidintern]

I don't know how this thought popped into my brain but it did and I ain't mad at it. I did a thing here

Cat Ace

Ace gets hit by another Devil fruit user and ends up turning into a kitten/small cat, but be still has access to his devil fruit, and his hat somehow becomes tiny as well and stays on his head unless he bats it off or someone else pulls it off.

Cat Ace is always climbing up onto different crew mates shoulders, mostly Marco or Thatch, he likes to feel tall but he also likes sitting on Whitebeard lap or shoulder, meowing(chatting) away to the old captain.

They learn quickly that Ace is a lot more affectionate as a cat, purring and butting his head against his brothers legs to get pets and scratches. He will curl up in any open lap and will not move unless he forcibly moved.

Ace is also so much more chaotic as a cat, and will run across the deck of the Moby Dick while on fire and getting in between everyone's legs, making some people trip, until Whitebeard tells to come join him, patting his lap, which Ace does cause as get cooed at by the nurses and good head scratches.

Thatch loves cat-Ace but he also kinds of wants to murder of him at some times, with how many times Ace has snuck into the kitchen and stole some fish or meat, from right under his nose and then had to chase to the cowboy hat wearing black cat, threatening to put Ace on a vegetarian diet if be didn't stop.

There are a few times when the crew has had to step in and recuse Ace from being stepped on or falling over board from being too close to the ship railing, when his narcolepsy happens.

Ace likes to try and hunt Marco, stalking up behind him and crouching low as his bum starts to wiggle before pouncing on the Phoenix user. Everyone watches as Ace just hangs off Marco as he goes around doing his daily business.

The crew puts it down to the fact that Marco is bird and cats instincts take hold of Ace for a while, cause after he pounced on Marco, he content kitty and ends on blonde shoulder.

The effect of the devil fruit lasts for 3 weeks and in that time they have taken so many photos of Cat Ace, so they can embarrass him in the future, like the good older siblings that they are.

They may or may not of sent a few photos to a certain Captain and Chief of Staff.

Ace will never live this down and the thought of throwing himself overboard to avoid the embarrassment and teasing has crossed his mind, especially when he was gifted black cat ears.

[trans-pickles]

can't get the thought of a kierthur vdl!kieran au out of my head and i'm burdening you all with the forbidden knowledge now

the teeny-tiny gang, comprised only of dutch, hosea, susan, arthur, john, tilly, and uncle (oh, and copper of course) has no choice but to enter a tenuous but necessary truce with the far larger o'driscolls

the law is on both their tails and they're in for a cold, long winter

dutch used to run with colm when he was younger. he doesn't talk about it beyond strict warnings to tilly and his boys to know what kind of man colm is, truce or no truce

arthur, freshly nineteen, doesn't feel much like socializing with anyone

he thought it would be a grand romantic gesture, giving mary his mother's ring and asking to run away together

in the end it had been pathetic, just like their relationship (at least from his perspective. we up self hating.) him, throwing himself at her feet. her, overwhelmed by the intensity this carefree cowboy is suddenly showing, still bound to her family both by honor and love

he wants to hate her. it would be easy to hate her. but by god he can't, not with the way she pushed the ring back into his hands and wept and embraced him the last time

so without anything to hate but himself and dutch and hosea's bickering he continues through the blizzard to the dilapidated hunting lodge where colm and his boys are holed up

introductions are useless, of course to colm he's a disposable gun for hire. all he does is wave him off to his skittery, good-for-nothing stablehand.

for an o'driscoll, the boy's hands are gentle. he avoids eye contact with arthur but his nerves belie a deep understanding of horses

boadicea, just as headstrong as her rider, somehow allows him to undo her bridle. his actions are soft but firm.

enough tenderness to show he's not a threat, with the sureness to show he's ultimately the one in control

arthur watches him. maybe he isn't blown away, but he's pleasantly surprised not to have to yell at some blockhead o'driscoll for mishandling his horse, or worse yet have to stop boadicea from trampling him

when the boy finishes arthur realizes he wasn't even told a name. he has to pry it out of the boy - it's kieran. kieran duffy.

kieran's fine sleeping in the stables, he says. the horses keep him warm. arthur remembers dutch telling him that the o'driscolls "ain't like us, son" and awkwardly says that he's free to use boadicea's blanket if the cold gets to him

kieran smiles for the first time. he thanks arthur. tells him, a little nervously, that his horse is a "beautiful animal, mister"

arthur laughs, tells him not to call him "mister", why kieran must be barely even younger than he is

"okay then, mister arthur"

"well i guess this is good night, mister kieran"

kieran looks confused before realizing it's a joke. and not even one at his expense! he grins a big dopey sunny grin, arthur thinks of mary, of drunken rendezvous with other farmhands in bars across the states after heartbreaks like this tips his worn-out hat, and starts to make his bed in the hay

arthur's glad to see him grab the blanket before he turns around to leave for his own quarters

he might not be as hard up for company as he thought here

[delopsia]

Idk I'm just still feeling soft about childhood friends to lovers with rhett 🥺

Ugh, I miss this concept :( I'm ashamed to admit that it took me a remember which fic I wrote this trope in.

Childhood Friend!Rhett who has been bound to your side from the moment you first met on the playground. Who wore his dad's old cowboy hat and was so much tinier than the other kids his age. Got into trouble for punching the boy who stole your bracelet at recess (he never really learned from those "don't speak with your fists" talks 🙄).

He's there when your date stands you up at freshman homecoming and chases away your tears with ice cream from the shop across the street. He waits by the phone the next year, just in case you need a shoulder to cry on again. You never call, but he's happy that you had fun, even if he doesn't understand why the new guy on your arm makes him feel sour.

You're the first and only person he tells when he enters the rodeo; bull riding. The one sport that frightened your young heart the most, but you scrounged enough money for a ticket, all to see him fall off before the eight-second buzzer sounded.

Weekend after weekend of hopes and traveling, just his best friend, you had called yourself. Because best friends beg to go to weekend rodeos together and sleep on top of each other in the back seat.

They get scolded for snuggling into the same bed and getting separated, you in Cecelia's bed and Rhett in Royal's. Spent too many nights sneaking out of the room to walk around the hotel and texting beneath the covers, because his folks go to bed early, but you two weren't done talking yet.

Because best friends do nothing but think about each other during senior prom, and their eyes grow glassy when they realize their paths split the moment they walk across that crudely built stage. Two hearts who both long to escape this old town, but only one has been given the opportunity to.

Childhood best friend Rhett who would call you every chance he got until suddenly your schedules began to clash, and late-night chats dissolved into missed call notifications at odd hours and short, awkward talks that struggled to grow beyond a 'How are you?'

Two old friends who don't speak anymore, until two horrible breakups happen on the same day, and suddenly, you have something in common again. You rant and you cry and you listen,

Maybe you're friends again. Or maybe friends isn't what your hearts have always longed for.

Maybe the reason you've never enjoyed kissing your dates is because your lips have forever craved the roughness of a cowboy who kisses like he's starved. Maybe all of Rhett's midnight ventures have never lasted past dawn because nobody has ever looked at him the way that you do.

Childhood best friend Rhett who flounders when he realizes you've come to one of his rodeos again, not because of the flowers in your hand but because he's almost forgotten what you look like. And it's like meeting you for the first time all over again.

Except this time, he's not the tiny little boy on the playground, running around with his dad's cowboy hat anymore.

No, he's strong now. Bigger. The only reason he tilts his hat up is because he doesn't want it to knock you in the head when he leans in, and maybe kissing you is the only thing he's ever truly needed.

There's nothing stopping you from clinging to him as he backs you into the wall. Nobody to scold you two for stumbling into a cheap hotel room and falling into the same bed.

Childhood best friend Rhett, who shyly kisses you in the morning, unsure if this is a boundary he's still allowed to cross and is pleasantly thrilled when you pounce on him. Who gets teary-eyed when he realizes you can't stay in Wabang and somehow convinces you to spend one more night with him.

Childhood best friend Rhett giggles when you adorn him with the shiny new title of boyfriend. His cheeks too rosy, and smile too big for him to formulate a single word.

Boyfriend Rhett, who ventures out of Wabang to see you every weekend and gets along with your friends as well as you do. You start coming to his rodeos again, that truck bench seat becomes your favorite place for post-ride snuggles, and his buddies complain about how much he's talked about you.

The riders are so sick of seeing him rush up to kiss you after a ride that their barking and jeers have dissolved into fake gagging and taking bets on whether he'll propose when he wins the finals again.

Boyfriend Rhett, who moves into a cozy little house with you and turns red when he realizes you've found old elementary school photos. He hates those old braces his momma used to wear, and no amount of kisses will get him to think otherwise. Those late phone calls have become mid-movie chats, and late-night hotel adventures have blossomed into driving around town until drowsiness threatens to kick in.

Rhett who breaks into tears during the middle of your first big argument because his raised voice made you jump, and scaring you is the last thing he ever wants to do. He breaks his hand in a bar fight when someone knocks your glass out of your hand, and it turns out to be that kid he decked in elementary school recess.

Sweet Rhett, who panics in the emergency room until you're allowed into the room. And Rhett who drops the engagement ring because that clunky cast got in the damn way and doesn't even get to ask you to marry him because you're both too busy laughing.

Fiance Rhett whose buddies text you their complaints because he still won't shut up about you, and becomes deeply upset when his buddy Archie hides his phone during his bachelor party. He's never quite understood the whole separate party thing because its so much more fun when everyone is all together. He disappears sometime during the middle of it and turns up with mud clinging to his boots.

Childhood best friend Rhett who never leaves your side on your wedding day and is more than happy to go with whatever last-name decision you have chosen, so long as he gets to share it with you. Who kisses the icing off your cheek and rolls his eyes when you scoop some up and dab it onto his nose.

Husband Rhett who accidentally tears his suit when he tries to stretch and lets you rip those buttons clean open the moment you're alone. It takes you two days to realize he's planted both of your favorite flowers in the garden, and he'd tell you more about them if he weren't about to go on a plane for the first time.

Your old childhood best friend, who loves you more than life itself and still follows you around like a lost puppy, even if he sees you every day. Now you're the one with an oversized cowboy hat, stolen clean off his head, and Rhett's too fond to do anything but smile at you.

It's only a matter of time before you notice the little bracelet he's hidden in your bag.

Send me Rhett and/or Bobby asks 💐

[i-didnt-do-1t]

Newsies Goil

“Dat goil over there s called Emma.” Jack says pointing her out to Racetrack.

The newsie goil was far better than that bitch Sarah, who fooled CowBoy and then cheated on him.

“I’s love you.” Emma said and Jack smiled at her.

“I love that you’se a Newsie Goil. Dat’s so much better than Sarah. I’s love you too.”

Too show his love, Jack begins to serenade her.

“Wow.” She says. “I never knew you could play the piano.

“I’m full of surprises.” Jack says back with a wink. “Did you know that I have enough money for a wedding. You can get a dress and be the prettiest goil there.”

“I don’t wanna wear a dress.” She says frowning. “Those are so girly.”

Jack laughs and keeps singing Jar of Hearts by Christina Perri.

“Yous is right bout dat.” He says. “That’s like you wearing make up.”

They both laugh at his joke as they both know she doesn’t wear make up like Sarah to try and impress the boys. Her face is naturally pale and flawless with her green eyes bright even with no mascara.

She watches intensely as Jack keeps playing the piano. He must still be sad about Sarah cheating on him with Blink and Skittery two separate times she thinks, because how much emotion he puts into the song as his eyes tear up.

Tears start to stream down his cheeks as he sings about ice in her soul and Emma wants to hug him.

Her raven black hair covers her face as she looks down. She likes to stand like this so no one can see how ugly she is although she always has boys chasing her. She doesn’t understand why.

Jack finishes his song and she doesn’t look up.

“I won’t cheat on you like dat bitch Sarah.”

“I trust you.” Jack says and they kiss.

Jack goes home to tell davey and the other boys that he’s in love.

Emma is about to leave to but then she spots a man in the corner. One she never thought she’d see again.

Morris Delancey. A bully of the newsies.

She quickly tucked her hair under her hat to disguise herself as a boy again like she did for a year, it always helped her sell the most papers when she pretended to be a boy, especially because there were no goil newsies.

she was surprised when Morris started to cry.

“What’s wrong.” She asked trying to keep her voice low to disguise she was a girl, it was difficult because her long eyelashes could give her away so she had to disguise everything good.

“I don’t need no help from a newsie.” Morris says but his eyes are sad.

She hates him for hurting her friends but she feels bad for him also.

She decides to help him because if she wanted to she could beat him in a fight. She would take the chance at talk to him.

She did it last week when he had made a comment at Jack, the love of her life. She had punched his r face and broke his nose and was too fast for him.

“Even delanceys can get sad.” She says as comfort and he nods. “What’s wrong.”

“Ise in love with the prettiest girl I ever seen with raven black hair and green eyes. She’s 4 ft 5 inches but she disappeared before I could tell her I love her.”

Emma gasps. There’s no way he can be talking about her can he??

But she is that short she thinks. She always needs Mush’s help to climb into her bunk and reach things cause she’s too tiny.

It’s hard being the only news goil.

——-

Pops head up from behind walls

Waves. Hi guys sorry it’s been a few months-

Spot: a few months! Dat ain’t good enough goil the people was waiting

Me: I knowwwww

Didn’t watch newsies for a bit

Jack, looking offended but ripped: I thought you loved me

(My eyes tear up) ignore him!!

Anyway I’m back in newsies now and the next chapter is comingsooooon

Spot: (rolls his eyes)

Me: hey! Don’t roll your eyes at me! I could kill you off.

(Takes deep breath and smooths out shirt)

*anyway* should be back with the next update soon!!

Rawr XD (rolls out on mini convertible)

[enjoythesilentworld]

Wille's Month - Birthday

the big day! 28th! happy bday wille! @youngroyals-events

Wille gets a real kid’s birthday.

read below the cut or on ao3. (T, 1.9k)

It isn’t until his 20th birthday that Wille really gets to acknowledge it’s his birthday and not hate the thought of it. 

His 18th birthday was a little overshadowed by the chaos of, you know, stepping down from the line of succession and sending the country into a media frenzy. Thank goodness Simon had been by his side, though; to ward off the unwanted attention from the tabloids, the irate criticism from the monarchists, and the ever-enclosing walls of Wille’s anxiety which was so tightly bound to the whole thing. Just like the year before, he’d woken Wille up with a song and a dry sandwich, except that year Wille didn’t have a breakdown, and they fell asleep happily wrapped in each other's arms.

The next year wasn’t bad by any means. In fact, it was really great. He, Simon, Felice and Sara went on a big trip to Amsterdam to celebrate their graduation. Wille didn’t mind that all the attention wasn’t on him. In fact, after the previous two years, he was more than happy to pretend it wasn’t his birthday. That it wasn’t actually meant to be the second official Wilhelmdagen; wasn’t another year his brother had missed. As was becoming tradition, Simon snuck downstairs to the kitchen of the hostel at which they’d been staying to put together a makeshift sandwich, and then whispered him a happy birthday song in the privacy of their tiny bunk. They’d all spent the day exploring the city and getting high in the park, giggling and joking about the terrifying yet glorious affair that was post-graduation. 

So, when the first year of university is coming to a close and Simon asks him what he wants to do for his 20th birthday, he shrugs.

“We don’t need to do anything,” he says, looking up from his book where he’d been lounging and reading in a spot of sun. It’s a warm, breezy day in late April, and the sounds of the city that drift in the window of their shared apartment is a nice background noise.

Though it had been a scary decision to make, both he and Simon thought it might be nice to study abroad for a while, to escape the scrutinizing eyes of Sweden after all the drama. And so, after many teary goodbyes, they’d swept off to New York. Wille enjoyed the anonymity and Simon enjoyed the music scene. They wouldn’t stay in the States forever, but it felt real and adult to make this big move and go through so many huge life events together. That being said, after that first year at Hillerska, Wille is sure he and Simon could weather any storm, as long as they had each other.

“Are you sure?” Simon runs a hand through Wille’s hair, cut short ahead of the hot summer. He folds his book and grabs Simon’s hips, guiding him to sit in his lap. “Not even a small party? We could invite some friends over for a game night like normal, just this time we all wear silly party hats.”

Wille smiles at the care Simon was showing, both of them still aware of the awful memories of his 17th, which still sting to think about. He shakes his head and shrugs again.

“Whatever.” He presses an innocent kiss to Simon’s neck, then lingers there, inhaling his scent. “I just want my sandwich and my song. And you in my bed.”

Giggles vibrate through Simon’s throat. “You have me in our bed every day.”

“It’s never enough!” he exclaims, standing them up and throwing a squealing Simon over his shoulder to carry off to bed.

It isn’t until a few days later that Simon returns to the topic, bounding into their bedroom and looking at Wille with wide, excited eyes. It’s the kind of look he has before Wille finds himself dressed in a onesie and cowboy hat, dancing on a small stage at some random club in Brooklyn at 4am. The things Simon is able to convince him to do – and sober, no less – are boundless. He sits up a little straighter in anticipation of whatever nonsense idea Simon has concocted this time.

“I have the best idea,” Simon grins maniacally, bouncing from foot to foot. Wille raises an eyebrow. “For your birthday.”

“Does it have to do with the extra bed time I requested?” he asks, smirking.

“No,” Simon drawls. “Don’t worry about it. Just clear that whole day. I will take care of everything.”

He moves forward again and grabs Wille’s face, squishing his cheeks, then says, very seriously, “It’s going to be perfect.”

“Okay,” Wille agrees, the sound muffled by his smushed face.

It seems his original prediction hadn’t been entirely off base. On the morning of his birthday, Simon wakes him with a song, a sandwich, and a kiss, then disappears. A few minutes later he returns with a big paper bag and empties the contents onto their bed. The sheer number of bright colors hurts Wille’s eyes this early in the morning.

“Is this my present?” he asks hesitantly, eyeing the goods. He spots a bright pink graphic t-shirt, a few party hats, a tiara, and some deflated balloons.

“Yes!” Simon exclaims. “Well, kind of. Today, my love, you are having the birthday you never got because you were too busy being a stuffy prince. No offense.”

“Okay.” Wille tilts his head in confusion, though he can’t help but smile softly at Simon’s excitement. “What does that mean?”

“First, put this on.” He holds up the pink graphic tee, which Wille gapes at, now that he can see the whole front. There’s some kind of mouse mascot dressed in a shirt and hat, and the text reads ‘Birthday Boy! 10! Wille!’ in big, block letters.

“I’m not turning 10,” Wille grumbles, slowly taking the shirt. He thinks Simon might have lost it.

“Look,” Simon grins, taking off his sweatshirt. “I even have a matching one!”

Wille bursts into laughter. Simon has definitely lost it.

The shirt does in fact match Wille’s, with the same oversaturated colors and slightly off-putting mouse character, except the text instead says ‘Daddy of the Birthday Boy!’. Not only that, but the shirt is one size too small, tight across Simon’s chest and the bottom only reaching an inch above his belly button. Despite how ridiculous it is, Wille is not too opposed to the sight of Simon in a crop top.

Once he’s got his laughter under control, Wille pulls on his own shirt. It’s a crop top on him as well. Simon sheepishly tells him that they were cheap and he’d shrunk them a bit in the dryer on accident. Wille could not care less. He finds the whole thing incredibly endearing, and they lose a bit of time when Wille pulls Simon back into the bed with him.

“Okay!” Simon shouts, finally pulling away. “We have things to accomplish today. I have big plans for you, Mr. Birthday Boy.”

“Do you now?” Wille asks teasingly, raising an eyebrow.

Simon rolls his eyes and presses a finger into Wille’s chest, pushing him away.

“I am going to show you the wonders of the world today, baby. In the form of sticky floors and questionable pizza. The American Dream!”

After donning their full outfits for the day – Simon with a party hat and Wille with his princess tiara – they head out for the day.

Their first stop is laser tag. The people at the front desk give them very odd looks, because they are grown men joining up with a bunch of preteens, but Wille can’t bring himself to care. Simon looks so excited, and he’s just so touched that his dear boyfriend went to all this effort. Plus, he loves laser tag.

They end up on opposite teams. Simon is ruthless, appearing around every corner to take Wille down no matter how far he runs or how well he hides. They shriek and yell at each other, louder than any of the kids, and sprint across the obstacles courses, trying to get the jump on the other. Three games later, Wille is winded and his face hurts from smiling so hard. After eating some, indeed, very questionable pizza, they stop in the bathroom to clean up. Standing next to each other in the mirror, they make googly eyes and silly faces. Turning to face one another, Simon reaches up to straighten his tiara and Wille fixes the string on his party hat.

Heart bursting with love, Wille whispers, “Thank you for this.”

Simon smiles and Wille swears the colors around them grow brighter. “Don’t thank me yet! We’re not done.”

The next stop is a trampoline park, which Wille has never even heard of before. A whole warehouse, a ridiculous size that could only be an American concept, filled with trampolines, foam pits, and screaming children. It’s perfect.

They swap out their shoes for grippy socks and chase each other out onto the floor. They play each other in basketball on a trampoline court, Wille jumping over Simon’s head to dunk the ball, then tackling each other to the ground to fight for it. Next, they get roped into a game of dodgeball with a group of nine-year-olds. Everyone gangs up on Wille and he ends up curled up in a corner, being pelted by an army of children and his boyfriend, who looks way too pleased by the situation. Finally, they have a jumping competition into the foam pit. Simon wins with his double backflip – which, who even knew he could do a backflip, much less two – but Wille is still quite proud of his toe-touch jump. Afterwards, they share a slushie in the parking lot, sitting on a curb and smiling at each other like idiots.

Late that afternoon, feeling sticky and sweaty but so fulfilled, they stumble back home to shower off. Wille thanks Simon thoroughly but is again told they’re not quite finished. They can’t change back into their matching shirts for the last activity of the night, too covered in mysterious liquids from their events of the day, so they opt for more adult-clothing. Wille keeps the tiara, though.

Simon leads them to a bowling alley, which they’ve been to a few times already, but this time Simon has rented out the party room and invited the few friends they’d made here in the city.

The employees at the bowling alley have really gone all out with the decorations. Purple and pink streamers span the entire ceiling, interspersed with dozens of balloons. A big sign on the wall says ‘Happy Birthday Willie!’ and he can’t even find it in him to be angry at the misspelling.

They bowl for hours, talking and laughing and overall causing a major ruckus. His friends have all gotten him stupid gag gifts, which is perfect and so much better than any stuffy tie or fancy cufflinks like he was used to as a prince. Wille keeps catching Simon staring at him with a big, happy grin. He looks radiant, so much better than that awful day a few years ago.

“I’m so glad you’ve had fun today,” he says later, arms wrapped around Wille, looking up at him with tired eyes.

“Today was perfect, Simon.” He presses a kiss to Simon’s forehead. “Thank you so much. Best 10th birthday ever.”

Simon giggles. “You deserve it.”

“I love you.”

“I love you. Happy Birthday, Wille.”  

[featherlight-whispers]

good times (for a change)

“There you are!” 

Lance runs up to Keith, who has slowed down at the sound of his voice.

“Hey, Lance. You wanted something?”

He replies with a wounded whine, leaning against a locker next to Keith’s. “I’m offended you think so lowly of me.”

The raised eyebrow Keith gives him rubs salt in the wound. “Spit it out.”

“Fine,” Lance sighs, pained. “I was just thinking… you know spirit week is almost here, right?” 

“I do.” Keith squints his eyes, momentarily stopping his struggle with his heavy AP books and tiny locker. “What are you planning?”

“Well. One of the spirit week themes is the Wild West. And I was thinking—”

“I’m not dressing up as a cowboy for spirit week, Lance.”

“Aw, come on!” He throws his hands up. How can someone hate fun as much as Keith does? He should do a study on that. “You’re Texan, you may even have a real cowboy hat and all! Imagine what a waste that would be.”

Keith’s nose scrunches in disgust. “I don’t even have a Southern accent anymore, what makes you think I could have a genuine cowboy hat?”

“One can never know. You’re full of surprises, Mullet.”

“I tell you once that I like classics and now I own a full cowboy outfit?” Keith sticks his head in the locker, presumably to reach for something, but Lance can feel the embarrassment rolling off him in waves. “You’re supposed to be good at science and math with your gpa.”

“Now, now, who said anything about a full outfit?” A shit-eating grin slowly takes over his face as he watches Keith’s body tense. His hands have latched onto something—is that a bag of gummy worms?—but Keith remains in hiding. “Is there something you’d like to tell me, Keith?”

“No.”

“You sure?” He lays his hand on Keith’s back. The muscles tense even further. Lance ignores the strained noise that escapes Keith.

[08melancholie]

Giddy up, Cowboy. — Micah Bell/Arthur Morgan.

tags: enemies to whatever the fuck they are, Toxic Yaoi type shit i love them oh god, Toxic Yaoi, Arthur Morgan Does Not Have Tuberculosis, Medium Honor Arthur Morgan, Micah Bell Is His Own Warning, Smut, Porn, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Blow Jobs, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Gay Sex, Anal, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Multiple Orgasms, Switching, Tension, Sexual Tension, Resolved Sexual Tension, Spit As Lube, Semi-Public Sex, Hate Sex, but just a teeny-tiny bit of it, SORRY couldn't help myself i hate them both and i also love them, honestly fucking micah bell is like sex as self harm here is it not???, i think just liking micah is self harm tbh

summary: Part 2 of 'Patch up, Cowboy'/Morbell fic #1 Series; A few weeks after the 'homestead job incident'—as Arthur calls it—more tension ensues between the two cowboys, leading to a whole lot of sexual exploration for one night out.

a/n: i have the worst love/hate relationship sith these two guys its insane. i drew art of this btw (not the sex part but the tension before bcz yk i love tension...)

words: 3,010 | AO3 LINK — SERIES LINK (Part 1&2)

When did things get this out of hand?

Does being on your knees in front of the biggest asshole you know cancel out the fact you both hate each others' guts? Or, what about having your hand in-between their shoulder blades, looking down at them bent over for you? Arthur sure as hell wonders.

Time has been flying by all too slowly since what happened during the homestead robbery, or well, after the planned ambush that Dutch himself fell fooled to. There was always a horrible tension between the two men, just not like the usual where they'd see each other in camp and sometimes glare in distaste; they'd avert their gazes and hide themselves under their hats. This went on for weeks without stop, endless hiding and avoiding. But they couldn't avoid how it made their bodies feel.

It became such a frequent thing that they both started acting like it was normal to get yourself off at night at the thought of the other. Hell, even Micah started going to his tent earlier in the night, just for that.

Lucky for them, most of the gang members didn't notice anything weird about their demeanour to one-another—unlucky for them was that the only person who noticed, was the one that could complicate their situation.

As soon as the two of them arrived back into camp, Dutch had a clear idea that something happened, and the fact they wouldn't disclose what both worried and frustrated him. Nobody was saying anything, and they avoided each other like the plague. So, Dutch went down to the core of the situation—the two of them couldn't stand being around each other, so why not make them? Great thinking.

Dutch set Micah and Arthur together for night watch, ignoring the many protests from both men who were sat in his tent. "I don't want to hear it; if you won't tell me what happened that's caused this, this is the alternative."

Clearly, neither Micah or Arthur had the guts to admit to their leader that they get aroused when around one another, or simply thinking of each other. They silently stared at Dutch for a moment before he shooed them off to process his words and what they'd have to do tonight.

It was seriously like a death sentence for them, having to finally face the problem head-on. Alone, with nobody to bother them. Alone.

With every moment that the sun dipped further down the horizon, the nerves of the two men grew. Stood so close to each other, their foreheads painted in sweat and an uncomfortably tense silence hanging in the air. It's terrible, really. The entire night at the fire replays in their minds, and it makes night watch very hard, seeing as they can't focus to save their lives. It takes a few hellishly long minutes for the tense silence to be broken, by Micah. "Have a light, Morgan?" Arthur—reluctantly—looks over at the sound of Micah's accented voice, who was a cigar hanging in his mouth, already looking at him.

"Uh, yeah." Arthur reaches into his satchel for a matchbox, taking one out to light when Micah offers Arthur a different cigar, for him to take. Weirdly enough, since Micah would usually rather do anything but share even a simple cigarette. With confusion and caution, Arthur takes the second cigar and lights the match. He brings it up to his cigar when Micah gets up very close to him, and Arthur feels Micah wrap an arm around his shoulder, using the same flame to light his cigar at the same time, while looking at Arthur—which makes him feel the sudden tightness of his trousers just like the night before. Little goddamn tease.

When the cigars light and Arthur tosses the match aside, Micah doesn't move back to his previous spot. His arm falls off of Arthurs shoulder, but he says right next to him. A silence befalls them again, but its so much worse. Why do they do this to themselves? Get each other riled up like this? It isn't benefitting anyone currently; they're just standing around with their erections outlined into their trousers.

Well, Micah has a plan, it seems.

"I don't eva do this type'a thing, cowpoke," He takes a final puff of his cigar when it's almost used-up, tossing it to the dirt and crushing with his boot. "so I'd feel honored if I was you." He chuckles slightly, but Arthur is still confused by what he means. Micah cocks his head at the mans' confusion. "Come on, 'ya don't see it?" Arthur definitely feels the blood run up to his cheeks when Micah looks directly to his bulge, and has to hold back on covering it with his hands.

Well, not like Micah doesn't have one of his own; a goddamn massive one. "What're you implying, Micah?"

The blonde man chuckles again. "It's like'm talkin' to a virgin;" He decides to be blunt about it, seeing as Arthur is either playing extremely coy, or is clueless. "let's help each other out. Just tonight—never speak of it again."

And while it does make Arthur's blood split between going to his already throbbing dick and already red enough face, it isn't that horrible of an offer. Night watch almost never escalates, and they've got nothing to lose in this situation; only to gain. The fact that Arthur is considering the offer is enough for Micah to quietly snicker and fully face Arthur now. "Good, so that's a 'yes'," He comments, and Arthur doesn't exactly disagree. "Well then, on your knees."

"On my knees?" Arthur creased an eyebrow at Micah, who just scoffed and nodding in a 'duh' motion. Arthur wasn't too keen on it, but he couldn't run from the fact that he'd envisioned this multiple times before, and that acting off about doing such a thing was only lying to himself. And so, he does as he's asked.

He shuffles down to the grass below, the terrain not as harsh as he expected it to be. He looks up at Micah, whose got the most obvious outline in his trousers he's ever seen, straining against the material. "..Damn, Morgan." Micah can't help staring down at him, practically mesmerised.

After a long pause of mere eye-contact and Micah's clothed shaft twitching at Arthur, he reaches up to fiddle with the gun belt around Micah's hips, and he other man enjoys it throughly, letting Arthur work him freely, as he likes. The gun belt meets the floor on Arthurs level, and he slowly moves to the beige trousers that Micah almost always wears, sliding the zipper down and undoing the little silver button holding the clothing article together. His fingers trace the rim of Micah's pants before slipping into the waistband, pulling down the restraints keeping his erection at bay. It jumps up at Arthur when Micah's trousers sit the floor, a small string of precum connected to the boxers around Micah's ankles that slowly drips down the red tip in front of Arthurs face. He's more thick than long, about average for all Arthur knows.

Micah is watching every nimble movement Arthur makes like a hawk, how he slowly undresses him and how he gawks at his cock, as if trying to figure it out. It brings a brief, huffy laugh out of Micah, looking down at Arthur in this position he can't help feeling even more turned on. "'Ya gonna start?" He breaks the silence up, licking his chapped lip that's long healed from the day at the homestead. Arthur clears his throat before sitting up on his knees to be on-level with Micahs hips, his rough hands sliding up Micah's slightly hairy thighs. Clearly, nerves are still pretty high about all this, but maybe a taste of whats to come will do Arthur good?

Has Arthur ever done this before? No, he was absolutely clueless on what he was doing. Has he had enough blowjobs to kind-of guess what he had to do? Possibly. He'll test that out. He gazes up to meet Micahs eyes as he leans closer to it, parting his lips slightly to peek his tongue out for a taste of the precum on Micah's tip. It's salty and slimy, connecting with Arthurs tongue as he licks a stripe up the head of it, earning a nice and low sigh from Micah, whose hand runs itself through Arthurs bangs and baby hairs, grabbing and tightly holding onto the brown strands as they fly out in every direction between his clenched fist. Arthur must be doing something right, surely. And so, he continues his slow, almost teasing licks up Micah's shaft, ending right at the leaky tip that twitches, begs him for more. And more he shall get.

"Fuuck, Morgan." Micahs hand pulls slightly on the brown hairs between his fingers, drawing him a bit closer. Dignity? What's that? Arthur's hands find the sides of Micah's thighs, still looking him directly in the eyes as his tongue makes a mockery of the twitchy cock in front of him—licking, kissing, hell, almost tempted to spit on it. It's like a twisted natural instinct that just makes him look like he knows what he's doing, how to tease Micah just right. You may call it revenge for all of Micah's own moments, some would say.

After a presumably long enough period of time, Arthur starts making his own self impatient—surprise, surprise. He parts his mouth enough to fit Micah's tip in his mouth, drawing a nice and long groan from Micah, Arthur getting his hair pulled a little harder by the man in response. "That's it," He hums quietly, feeling Arthur's tongue swirl around one time to gauge the blonde man's reaction—gaining a positive one, thankfully.

It's not long before Arthur has his cheeks hollowed—just to be filled by Micah's thick member until he's gone all in, his eyes narrowed and lidded, staring up at Micah when his lips almost meet the mans' stomach. It feels almost humiliating, but the lust somehow seems to very easily overpower any shame Arthur could be feeling about this—sucking another male off in the middle of camp, essentially. When Micah finally bottoms out in Arthurs mouth, he starts taking the reins; both hands on one side of the other man's head, gripping just enough to start moving to his own preferred pace. A few noises of discomfort from Arthur pass by Micah, who doesn't stop for a moment to remember that Arthur hadn't had any time to get used to Micah's whole length in his mouth—but Micah isn't considerate enough anyways, and being blue-balled so damn long really does bring some desperation and carelessness into a man.

Arthur's head bobs back and forth with a small grunt, his hands gripping onto Micah's outer thighs for life, trying to keep himself grounded while slowly losing himself in the moment. Without much warning—other than a soft groan and curse under his breath—Micah suddenly comes, painting the back of Arthur's throat in his spent. The man coughs and almost chokes when it happens, having been absolutely unprepared for it. Micah holds Arthurs head in place until he's got every drop running down Arthur's throat, only then letting his grip falter and withdrawing from the cowboys' mouth. "Well, that was somethin', huh cowpoke?"

Arthur gives himself a breather, coughing a few more times before he stands up to his full height, now towering over Micah once more. He curses under his breath as he tries to swallow the aftertaste down, before fully turning to Micah. "Think I've earned a turn." Micah looks at him for a moment before—somewhat reluctantly—starting to kneel. "Oh no, not that." Arthur grabs Micah by the shoulder, his strength unmatched by the other outlaw as he's spun and tossed around up to a nearby barrel, trying to look back at Arthur. "The hell is—"

He's shut up by the sound of metal, more precisely Arthur's belt unbuckling and trousers slowly dropping. Arthur tosses Micah's coat over his back to get a better view of just what he's doing, then pushes a heavy hand down the curve of Micah's lower back to arch him just slightly more. In Arthur's eyes, Micah is complying almost a little too freely to this, but he won't comment on that; as to not agitate him into leaving like the, usually selfish, asshole he can be. Arthur lets his garments drop with a sigh, feeling the cold night air almost instantly on his hot, throbbing cock that's already long leaking pre-cum.

A faint sound of spitting almost echoes through the woods around the area, a string of warm saliva dropping down on Micah's hole before it's circled around slowly by Arthur's finger. At least he's done anal before—God knows if Micah ever has, but judging by how he visibly clenches under Arthur's digit and how his hands dig into the wooden barrel underneath him for support, it's possible he hasn't. "Calm down," Arthurs leans down slightly to murmur, running a hand under the coat and undershirt Micah has on up his back, cold fingertips tracing his spine up to the space between his shoulder blades as he slowly eases a thumb into Micah, earning a small noise out of Micah, something between a hiss and moan. "loosen your muscles, it'll feel better." Arthur whispers, trying to almost guide Micah through this. Just why was he talking all sweet to him? Only God knows.

Micah manages to stop practically sucking Arthur's finger in, and the cowboy uses that as an opportunity to slip another in, earning himself another low moan from Micah which he rewards with a squeeze to the nape of Micah's neck where his hand now rests. "That's it," he adds when he scissors the two digits, trying to loosen Micah up as much as possible for his twitching shaft. Micah's sounds fill the surrounding nature, thankfully not loud enough to wake any camp members in the near radius. Arthur slowly withdraws his fingers before lining his tip up to Micah's anus, moving his hand to Micah's hip while the other rests between his shoulder blades to keep him in position. Micah is practically helpless under Arthur, the other man much stronger than himself which allows the cowboy to move him as he likes.

Arthur then circles his pre-cum over Micah's entrance with his tip, a little more lube just in case. He takes a moment, both to let Micah and himself brace for this, before he starts pushing his hips up to Micah's backside, Arthur's member slowly entering the others' body. He holds Micah in place and whispers really low words of encouragement to keep Micah from clenching and tightening too hard around him, easing each inch in and punctuating it with a small praise, either a word or squeeze of his hip and body.

Slowly but surely, Arthur close to bottoms out in Micah, who is gripping the barrel almost painfully hard to stay grounded. He hissed into his forearm and arches involuntarily with every one of Arthurs' filling movements, actually fairly enjoying the praise he receives from the man, surprisingly enough.

Arthur's hips finally come in contact with Micah's ass, fully sheathing his dick deep into the outlaws' guts. He takes a small breather, letting Micah adjust before he slowly pulls out to the tip, and slams back in. Micah grunts into his sleeve, biting down on his lip to keep himself as silent as possible with every slow yet deep repeat penetration from Arthur's length, who leans down and keeps his sweet, sweet praise up, mumbling low and encouraging words right next to Micah's ear as his cock repeatedly drills down Micah's asshole, skin slapping skin and ragged breathing filling the surrounding area, only ever interrupted by a low curse from Micah and rewarding praise from Arthur.

"I'm close, gonna let me inside?" Arthur suddenly breaks the silence that lingered for a moment, not faltering his rutting into Micah's ass once.

Micah manages to reply between all his little lewd grunts and groans, moans and mewls that spill like a waterfall. "Go right.. ahead, cowpoke.."

Arthur doesn't need much more clarification, he speeds up and leans back up to get a good angle on Micah, fucking into him a bit more roughly to get himself closer. Micah's moans and curses turn incoherent, words becoming fully intelligible to Arthurs' ears as he focuses on his pace and depth, while Micah moves a hand down to his already-newly-hard member to jerk himself to an orgasm.

These lewd noises could probably drive anyone away from camp that shouldn't be there, so technically, the camp isn't being exactly unprotected.

Soon enough, with a quiet 'shit!', Arthur connects his hips with Micah's backside and empties himself into the man, both hands moving to his hips to keep him there as his cock twitches deep inside Micah, every drop spilling into him. Micah gasps and jerks himself a few times before spilling into his hand, gasping for air as he reaches his second orgasm that night and Arthur leans down onto his back tiredly, his knees almost weak from what just went down. Their chests move in sync, heaving and trying to regulate their ragged and quickened breaths as Arthur slowly pulls out, reaching down to get his drawls and pants back on before clasping his gun belt on.

Micah recovers soon after as well, reaching down and covering himself as well as he wipes sweat off his forehead, finally grateful that the nights have gotten colder for once.

Micah picks his gun back up, with Arthur doing the same. They stand there for a quick moment, thinking back on whatever the hell just happened, when Arthur is the one of break the silence this time, turning his head towards Micah at almost the same time as the other cowboy.

"You have another cigar, Bell?"

"..Just one left."

"Maybe we can share."

Kudos on AO3 heavily appreciated!! Finally, the morbell fic is out of my goddamn drafts. I've wanted to finish this for weeks, but I've been worried about whether or whether not the writing was any good, considering I've never written this ship in a sexual setting—or written any gay sex before. But, nonetheless, needed to get it done. Hope it was good!

[georgiapeach30513]

Closer to Heaven and Closer to You, Part 1

Summary:  When your boyfriend, Ransom wants to take a trip back home to the ranch to meet your family, you are unsure.  Knowing that a rodeo in town could only mean your ex, Frank Adler, was most likely riding for eight seconds, still trying to beat his best friend, Steve Rogers.  All you wanted was a nice time, not old memories bothering your brain.

Pairings:  Frank Adler X Reader (Past), Ransom Drysdale X Reader (Present)

Rating:  explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut, unprotected sex, PIV sex, too many cowboy/bull riding innuendos, swallowing, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  4.7K

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics​

“Hey, watch it,” Mindy pulls you out of the way of a group of rodeo clowns that were heading to the ring.  “You always gotta have a watchful eye.  You’re okay, come on.  So we’re going to be stationed beside the fence.  This isn’t some big time rodeo, so don’t get attached.”

“What?” You asked confused, trying to keep up with the fast moving nurse that you were going to be stuck with for the evening.

“Oh, don’t give me that,” she rolls her eyes looking straight ahead.  “First off, get on some birth control.  Don’t let these cowboys drag you down.  Secondly, don’t become some buckle bunny to these local boys.  You want to make it to the big time.  Travel to the big arenas; Cheyenne, Arlington, Houston, ya know?”

“I’m not following,” she stops abruptly, and turns around.  Her big doe eyes look you up and down, and she chuckles.  “This is literally my first rodeo.  I answered an ad.  And here I am.”

“Yeah, they keep hiring pretty ones,” she was talking about herself like she was hideous.  Mindy was adorable.  Tiny little thing with bright green eyes.  She lifts up her left hand, showing you her rings, “I’m taken.  They stay away from me.”

“Who is they?” Her arm goes out to her side, and she gestures towards the backsides of dozens of men in cowboy hats, tight shirts, and tighter jeans.  

“Bull riders.  They’re a dime a dozen.  They’ll talk this big game here, because they need a place to wet their dicks for the night.  If they’re lucky, dumb, and have enough they go on to the next county and find them another one.”

“Buckle bunnies?”

One cowboy happens to turn around, and it’s glaringly obvious what buckles she was referring to.  He had a giant silver buckle, bow legged, tall, and dangerously handsome, “And that one is the worst of them all.  Stay away,” she smiles at him, and gestures with her hands to shoo, “Nu-uh, Steve, we don’t want whatever it is your peddling.  We’re working,” even though she was talking to this man like he was a dog, she still opens her arms wide for a quick hug.

He extends a hand out to you with a crooked grin, and you reach yours out to him, “Well, hello darlin’, you look new here.”

“She is, and my help, go on with your boys.  I’m sure we’ll see you and Frank later.”

“Now, that’s not nice.  I’m not near as reckless as him.  I can’t help it, he can never get the points that I do.”

“And you can’t help that he’s more charming than you.  Goodbye, Steve,” she grabs your hand, pulling you over to the nurses station, and you keep your eyes ahead of you.  It was like he was a predator searching for his next prey, and you were just there for the taking.  Waiting on the sidelines for him to sink his talons into you.

“Steve is trouble.  He is one that will make you fall in love in one night, and you never hear from him again, unless he gets another itch.  The bunnies all go after him because he’s the top rider.  Bucky is the one you go after.  Sweet as southern tea.  He’s going to make a real fine husband, but Frank…he has no quittin’ sense.”

“What do you mean,” you look back towards Steve and his friends.  One seemed particularly taller than the rest.  

“He’s gonna end up dying for a buckle.  He won’t hurt you for another woman.  He’ll hurt you for another ride,” the tallest of the group gives you a big smile, and tips his hat towards you, and your head spins to look back at Mindy.  “Great.  You’ve been caught hook, line, and sinker.  Don’t let those long legs, tight ass, and smirk get you.  You are here to work.  You are not here to chase around some cowboy.”

“You never have?”

“That is beside the point.”

“Steve?”

“I ain’t never chased him.  He found me.  I’m just telling you, I’ve lost a lot of nurses because they can’t leave them be.  Cowboys can’t be trusted.  Find you someone who sponsors one.  You get the glamor of the rodeo, and get the security of money,” she tilts her head, and blows a kiss at a businessman in a booth.  “That’s my Johnny.  He’s a representative for Wrangler, and he looks even better in them.”

“So…”

“Just say no to the cowboys, ya got it?”

“Yeah.  Completely got it,” and yet you still find your way to look back to Steve and his group, and your eyes go back to the tallest one.  He definitely looked like trouble, and you hoped that he was Bucky.

“We’re up,” Mindy grabs your arm, cussing up a storm.  The both of you race to the side of the ring, pushing past the cowboys next to the chute, “Dammit, Frank,” she pushes the tall cowboy down in a chair, and he yells up at her, “Oh, don’t act like you don’t get off on this pain.”

“Well, I ain’t done it.  It’s just part of the job.  Don’t touch me,” he jerks his head out of her way, looking back in the ring, “Would somebody get my damn hat?”

“Frank, your wound needs cleaning,” Mindy groans, still trying to get to the gash in his head, but he smacks her hand out of the way.

“Yeah, and you’re rough.  I want her to do it,” she shakes her head no, but you get that enticing grin, “You can butterfly a wound up, right?” You nod your head, stepping closer to him.  “Usually Mindy here just straddles my legs to get closer to me.”

“Frank!”

“I’m just saying,” trying to prove to Mindy you weren’t some buckle chaser, you push his head back, and lean over him.  “You got a name, sweetheart?” You give him your name, while you clean the wound, “That’s a real pretty name.  You know you stick your tongue when you do that?”

“I do not.”

“Ow!  Dammit that stings.”

“Alcohol usually does.  Hold still, ya big baby.  You’re acting like this hurts worse than being thrown from that big bull.  You gotta death wish or something?”

“No,” his legs spread out even more, and he sinks down lower into the seat.  Mindy, seeing you had everything under control, walks away, watching as the next rider preps himself.  “You wanna know what the problem is?  Why Steve always looks like the big time hero?  It’s the draw of the bulls.  You know what he always gets?  Ole Blue or Kensington, the smallest ones.  You know who I always get?”

“Ole Red or Blue Bonnet?”

“She’s got jokes,” he chuckles, stilling while you butterfly his cut.  “No, his name is the Hornet.  He’s the biggest and meanest, and I still get my eight seconds, so I’m not too concerned.  It’d be nice to start winning every once in a while though.  Steve gets it easy, and the crowd loves him.  I get it hard, but I got loyal fans.”

“The ones that follow you to your hotel after a ride?”

Someone hands Frank his hat, and you remove your gloves, giving him a knowing look, “You've been talking to Mindy too much.  Trust me, I got more rides in me than on a bull.  I ride horses, too.  Used to ride sheep.  I don’t get a girl in every city.”

“Oh?  You get one and make her chase you around?”

“I’ll let you know when I find one,” before you realize what was happening, someone bumps into you, knocking you straight into Frank’s lap.  “I got cha.  You gonna need a bandage, darling?”

“No.  I’m good.”

“Gotta watch these rough riders.  They just don’t know when to pay attention to a lady in their way.”

“Are you a rough rider, Frank?”

“I caught ya, didn’t?  I’d say I’m a gentle rider, but all kinds of fun.  I’m not who you think I am.  And I’m far from what Mindy says I am,” he was definitely cute.  This must have been the charm she was talking about.  It wasn’t just those tight jeans, there was this sweetness under his shameless flirting.

“She says you’re reckless.”

“Well, that I am.  But I ain’t Steve.  I ain’t got the time or patience to deal with those,” you give him a head nod, starting to walk back to your post.  “Do I get your number or something?  I’m also clumsy.  It might be nice to have someone patch me up.  You did such a good job.  I don’t even feel it.”

“I hope you score well tonight, Frank,” you were currently walking backwards.  You didn’t want to fall for him, but you figured it was too late.  It had been too long since you even talked to a guy, much less one that looked that good in jeans, and knew how to handle a horse, in his case a bull, too.

“I’d score better if I got a number!” You bite your lip, shaking your head no.  “You going to the next county?”

“She is Frank.  Get to the chute, it’s Bucky’s turn,” Frank puts his hat on his head, giving you a quick nod, before walking off.  He was making sure you saw just how good he looked in them jeans, and Mindy made sure you knew that she saw you looking.  Giving you a whack in the back of your head, “Don’t fall in love with a cowboy.”

“You said that he…”

“I know what I said, and I stick behind it.  I’m saying that is your kryptonite.  Stay away.  You’re going on tour with me.  And I like you.  That was clean work on Frank.  You’re just easily distracted.”

“Does he always get hurt?”

“Just about every damn rodeo.  He can’t gracefully fall off the bull.  He makes sure it’s dramatic as hell.  Remember…”

“Got it,” you take a drink from your water bottle, glancing over at Frank, Steve, and Bucky.  Frank should have been helping tie Bucky’s hand off, but he kept glancing back at you, “What about having some fun with him?”

“You think you can have fun with Frank and not fall in love?  Not fall for that sweet accent, and charming smile?”

No, you didn’t.  You were already too far gone.  Already distracted by the man with blue green eyes.  A tall drink of water that you wouldn’t mind seeing after the rodeo.  Mindy knew it, too.  Knew that Frank had found him a girl that was easy to follow him around from show to show, because that’s exactly what you were going to be doing.  Steve loved the draw of a girl coming to him.  Bucky was too shy to even consider talking to a girl.  While Frank, if it wasn’t for his penchant for painful behavior to himself, would have been the one.  He didn’t break hearts, he broke bones.  

“Mhmm…already gone.”

“Shut up.”

“Here,” she gives you a quarter and starts laughing.  “Keep this in between your legs.  If it falls while you're around him, you’re in trouble,” you toss quarter at her, and try to watch Bucky.  It was your job description to watch him.  Ready to assist where you could, but you were failing.  Frank had already got your attention.

“I’m serious.”

“I’m fine.”

“Mmm,” his lips kiss up your stomach, and between the spears of your tits.  Kissing up your neck, giving your jaw a little nibble, before his body hovers over you, “Ransom, what are you doing?”

“Morning to you, too, Buns.  I was just trying to be sexy and romantic.”

“If we weren’t having dinner with your parents today it would be,” he sits up, still having his knees on either of you, but nods his head.  “Ran, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No, you’re right.  We’ve had this conversation. I wished Harlan was my father, but unfortunately I got stuck with Linda and Richard.  But, I have a very important question to ask Greatnana.  And you are going to wear the pretty little dress that I bought just for the occasion,” you try and open your mouth, but he places his whole hand over it. “And, in a few weeks we’re going to Montana.”

“Why are we doing that again?”

“You miss your family.  You talk about that place nonstop.”

“I do love it here.”

“You love the estate.  Love not having anyone around.  And then my parents show up, and you get all feisty and cute, because they call you the help,” you roll your eyes, but still give him the softest smile.  “I don’t tell you enough, but I’m glad you came here.  I don’t know what I would have done had you not been here for Harlan.  You acted fast.”

“And you fell in love,” his hands go to your side, and he starts tickling you.  Making your body thrash around, and he knew how much you loathe tickling.  If it wasn’t for his sweet little face, laughing along with you, it would be much more annoying.  “You did.”

He stops abruptly, and starts sinking lower on you again, “As did you, Bunny.  If I recall you fell asleep on my shoulder.  You held my hand.  I never had anyone that comforted me.”

“You needed it.  And I couldn’t just leave Harlan.  I had to make sure those nurses knew what they were doing.  They weren’t.  I told them he was already on blood thinners, and that they had to chase his veins.”

“And I thank you for that.  Gave him round the clock care, without pay,” you glare up at him.  You most definitely did get paid.  Your rent was paid for the whole year.  “You didn’t have money in your hand.”

“I did get a date out of that stay.”

“You did.  I’m so glad you asked.  And I’m also so glad that I got to realize that I can go out to eat and not even spend a hundred dollars.  And that’s with drinks and dessert.”

“We’ve upgraded to appetizers, too,” you give him a little reminder.  He loved your morning giggles.  Was addicted to them.  His mornings with you were always so special.  A bit sexy, but mostly it was just sweet.  The two of you together, alone for the moment, before a dual shower, to save water of course, and head to the estate.  Ransom opted not to work at the office as much since you had started working there.

“Speaking of which, is there a Longhorn in Montana?”

“Yes,” you give him a little smack to his arm, and he dramatically flops over on his back.  “Come on, let’s get our shower.”

“Can we get a quickie in at lunch time?  I know just the place we haven’t tried.”

“I have to be presentable for dinner with Mr. and Mrs. Drysdale.”

“Those two ruin everything.”

“How about I give you road head on the way home?” Pulling you over top of him, he gives you a kiss to your nose, and then your lip.

“I’d love that,” he whispers in your mouth.  “And I love you.”

“And I love you, Ransom.  Come on, shower.  Harlan and I need our coffees.”

“Ransom needs his coffee, too.”

“Hey, I caught up with you,” Frank jogs up behind you, while you finally load your final bag into your car, and slam the trunk closed.  “Am I going to see you in the next county?”

“Seeing how I signed a contract, yes.  You’ll be graced with my presence for the next few months.  What are you needing, Frank?”

“You remembered my name,” ugh, it was slightly infuriating the way the man looked with his mud covered clothes, sweaty skin, and popped up cowboy hat, trying to avoid his wound that you had patched up earlier.  You start to head into your car, and he chases after you, opening the door for you, “I was wondering, I mean…the boys and I usually find us some bar to go to after rides, and there’s usually dancing.  Would you want to go?”

“You’re asking me to dance with you, and your clothes are all dirty?  You sure know how to make a woman swoon,” backing yourself into the car, you smile at him.  Needing to close your door, but he still held on.  “Frank, give me my door.”

“You didn’t say no.”

“Didn’t say yes either.”

He gives you a chuckle, his eyes looking down at his worn state.  “What if I took a shower?  Got all freshened up.  The beer at these bars is usually stale, but the music is decent.  We got us a hotel room down the road from the bar.  It’s in walking distance,” you scoff, pulling at the door even harder, “That’s not what I meant.  Honestly.”

“If you want someone to chase your buckle around, I’m sure there’s plenty.”

“I done told you, I don’t want no buckle chasing bunny.  If I did, I wouldn’t be offering to buy you cheap beer, willing to dance out in public with you.  Bunnies are good for one thing.  You’re not that,” he lets your door go, closing it for you.  “It’s the Wild Horse.  Just come on by.  It’d be nice to see you in something besides scrubs.”

“Goodbye, Frank.”

“You still didn’t say no,” you didn’t.  And maybe you were crazy or a glutton for punishment, but you wanted to see him out of those chaps.  Wondered if he wore the hat out in public, too, or if he wore something different.  You had too many thoughts running in your mind, but you were curious.

“I know that look,” Mindy leans in your open window.  “Did you learn nothing?”

“No,” you pout at her.  He was cute, no he was hot.  And while it was silly, could it be so bad.  “Is he that bad of a guy?”

“No.  He’s honestly not.  Just remember, his first love is the rodeo.  If you’re wanting to tame him and have your ranch and family with him, I’d say you need to just walk away.  It would take a special woman for Frank to stop this life.”

“I just don’t want to go back to my hotel alone, and sit there watching reruns of some show that I’m not even paying attention to,” it was innocent enough and true.  You just wanted to have fun.  Do things you hadn’t done before.  That was the purpose of this job.  You wanted to see what was out there, even if it was from a rodeo.  

“Don’t get your heart set on changing the man, and you’ll be fine.”

Steve kicks at Frank’s chair, the man hadn’t stopped staring at the door.  A steady round of pitchers of beer kept his belly full.  But he was hoping you showed up.  “Let’s play pool.”

“Don’t want to.”

“Darts?  You haven’t played darts in a while.”

“Nope,” Steve looks over at Bucky who hadn’t stopped dancing with a girl he met at the bar.  She thought it was going to be more than that.  That Bucky was going to get in a heated kiss and take her to their hotel room.  He wouldn’t.  Bucky was a hopeless romantic, and one night stands never happened with him.

“You’re killing my vibe.”

Frank looks over at Steve glaring.  “Go find you someone to fuck in the bathroom.”

“Already have.  Found one that wants a threesome, and Bucky don’t…”

“No.”

“Dammit,” Steve throws his head back whining, “Why are you sitting here waiting on that damn nurse.  She didn’t seem interested.”

“Yeah, she did.”

“Okay.  She was interested.  Where is she now?” Frank gets the biggest smile on his face as you walk through the door.  Your eyes move around the smoky atmosphere in search of Frank, while Steve groans.  “Have your fun.  Maybe we can talk her into some switching action.”

“No.  Go find fuck number two.  I’m going to dance,” Steve and Frank both stand up, and it isn’t long until some pink manicured hand is rubbing on Steve’s belt, but Frank sees nothing, but you.  Meeting you beside the bar.

“What’re you drinking?” He asks with a smile.

“Already ordered a double shot of Jack.”

“Ooh, she’s ballsy.  Put her on my tab,” the bartender slides your cup in front of you, acknowledging what Frank had said. “Was beginning to think you weren’t going to show.”

“I was beginning to think the same thing,” you nervously laugh, ready to get another drink when yours is finished, but Frank starts pulling you out to the dance floor.  “What are you doing?”

“You came to dance.  Besides, alcohol impairs your thought process.  I don’t want that.”

“Why’s that,” his hands touch your hips, bringing you closer to him, and you want more.  You hadn’t been with anyone since you started nursing school.

“I just want you to be fully aware of me,” even with a ball cap on, Frank was still attractive.  He didn’t flash a buckle around or a cowboy hat in search of someone who knew who he was or what he did, unlike Steve.  He was proud of the fact that he was a bull rider, and loved to show it off.  Frank looked like an average man.  With long legs, and the cutest ass.  He was a dream.  A sinful little dream.

Frank struggles to find his keycard with the way you were kissing all over his neck.  Pulling out his shirt, and your fingers rub over his lower abs.  “Hold on…stop…dammit, I can’t,” he finally opens the door, undoes his belt, ripping it out of the loops before placing it on the door handle, and pulls you inside.

Walking you to the bed furthest from the door, and you see that pretty white cowboy hat.  Pushing him onto the bed, you grab it up, getting a few tongue clicks from him, and you cock up your eyebrow.  “You gotta earn the hat ma’am.”

“How do I earn it?”

“You gotta….gotta ride a bull and try not to get bucked off,” pulling off the straps to your sundress, you let it sink to the floor, and Frank yips.  “That…that’s a start.”

“You gonna show me how to do an eight second ride?”

“Shit, I hope this lasts longer than eight seconds.”

“Frank, take off your clothes,” his fingers start unbuttoning his shirt, before it’s enough to pull over his head.  And he stands, tripping out of his jeans.  Boxer briefs were your favorite, and those white ones were leaving nothing to the imagination.  “All of it,” unhooking your bra, you toss it into the floor, and walk out of your panties just as Frank discards his briefs.  “Can I wear the hat now, cowboy?”

“Y-yeah.  Yeah.  You really gonna ride this bull?  Yep,” he stops talking when you sling your leg over him.  Grabbing the base of his cock you slowly start to sink over him.  “Oh, you feel better than any saddle.  Yeah,” he sighs when you sink down completely.

His hat perches on your head, while he smiles up at you.  “I could get used to this view,” he gives your ass a smack, “Okay boys.  Go on, ride your bull,” you slowly start grinding over him.  Rolling your hips, whimpering at the way he stretched you out.  He was thick, by far the biggest dick you had ever taken.  You understood now why he strutted around the arena.

He reaches up to pinch your nipples.  Pulling them until you were right at his face, and he gives you a filthy kiss.  Didn’t hesitate to push his tongue past your lips.  “I said, you gotta earn that hat.  Show me you know how to ride a bull,” he bites at your lip.  Letting his teeth softly scrape over your kiss bruised lips, and releases your nipples.  

You sit back up, and put your hands behind you.  Getting off your knees, and resting your feet beside him in a crouch.  He had the perfect view to see where the two of you connected.  Could see your walls slicking his cock up as you start bouncing on him.  Hugging his dick so perfectly.  Your walls were already fluttering over him.  The fact that he had that effect on you made him even harder, and you moan out his name.  

“Come here.  I wanna use those reigns again,” getting back to your knees, he grabs onto your tits, while you ride him like your life depended on it.  Slamming yourself over his giant cock, and making the prettiest sounds.  “Just like that.  You’re earning that fucking hat.  Just like that.”

Steve stumbles to the hotel room, and lifts up Frank’s belt.  Looking back up to the bar confused, before forgetting what was even going on.  Taking his card key out, he opens the door to see your body move over Frank’s. Sick fucker had you wearing his cowboy hat, and both of you were distracted by the pleasure.  

“Looks like you found you a buckle bunny after all,” he hiccups, as you drop your body down on Frank’s chest, and his hands move to cover your ass.  “She’s a real pretty one.  Your belt is on the door handle.”

“To tell you not to come in here.  Dammit, Steve, Get out.”

“Did you have to pay for this rodeo?” He collapses on the bed, completely passed out and snoring.

And you look up at Frank, “You’re sharing a room with him?”

“Him and Bucky.”

“You know I had my own room.  Steve just saw me naked.  Called this a fucking rodeo,” he starts moving your body over him, and you don’t wanna smile.  You don’t wanna care, but it does feel so good.  It wasn’t fair that he didn’t get to finish.

“You haven’t got bucked off yet.  About the buckle bunny business…”

“I’m only your bunny, Frank.”

“Good,” he lifts your head up to give you a soft kiss, “I don’t want anyone else to be my Bunny.  You go on and finish us. He won’t remember this.”

“How many points do I get with this ride?” You playfully ask, starting to get back into fucking him.

“Oh, you’ve scored off the charts.  I bet it’ll be even higher when I finish.”

“In that case,” your hands press into his chest while you finish the ride for the both of you.  Forgetting Steve all together, he could lay there passed out and drunk for all you cared.  Frank’s fingers dig into your waist as he makes you pound over him harder before holding you still.  It just wasn’t enough.  He needed to feel just how weak you got when he fucked into you.  He pushes his hips up into you with such force you start to see stars.  Jackhammering up into your drenched cunt over and over again.

Your walls constrict around him, and you slap your hand over your mouth as you come hard over his dick.  Frank pushes you off him, and onto your back, adjusting himself to straddle your upper body, and he fists his cock.  It only takes a few pumps before he releases his load into your mouth.  Stifling his own moans as he lets every drop drip onto your greedy tongue.  

“That was beautiful.  I really wished you’d stay,” he whispers, climbing off you to put his underwear back on.  “Steve and Bucky always share a bed.  You can wear my shirt and panties.  Cuddle up real nice.”

“You won’t hate me in the morning?”

“I’m going to hate it when the morning comes because I’ll have idiots in the bed beside us.  I’d much rather fuck you in the morning.”

“Just for tonight, Frank,” he throws you his shirt and your panties as he walks to retrieve his belt.

“Can I come in yet?” Bucky asks, sitting on the floor.  “I couldn’t find Steve, so I figured he found him another one.”

“He’s passed out in here, Buck,” Frank gives you another look as you crawl under the blanket, before he lets Bucky inside.  “Don’t ask me any questions, and I won’t tell you any lies.”

“Lips are sealed.  Oh…hey, uh…”

“You can call me, Bunny.”

Next

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