#or horse riding again even though I suck at it

[chaoticattt]

I want to throw something so bad rn my dad loves AI and my brother agrees and my mum thinks it is inevitable. I hate this. I hate it so fucking much. The art industry has always been my dream job. When I was little whenever someone asked me my dream job it would be art related. I have poured my heart and soul into it. And this is wrecking everything I have ever cared about. It is stupid (the situation I mean) They don’t understand and they don’t care and I am sick of crying to myself at 1 am over it. I am sorry for ranting. May take this down later

[atomicami]

bull ride

contractor!abby anderson x joel’s daughter!reader

- summary: you spend the night out at a bar and decide to challenge yourself on the mechanical bull to impress abby. when abby sees you from the crowd, she ends up giving you something else to take a ride on. (part 4)

- content: smut MDNI, porn with plot, no outbreak/modern au, contractor/engineer!abby, texas living, no sarah, joel and jerry are both alive, jerry is not a doctor, reader has a business degree, family & work drama, bar setting, some alcohol consumption, truck sex (bit of a quickie), fingering (a!receiving), strap usage (r!receiving), strap sucking, abby referring to the strap as her cock, basically save a horse ride a cowgirl tbh 🤠

- author’s note: hi everyone… i know i’ve been very inactive this year but this part has actually been sitting in my drafts since march so i figured i’d at least post it for the few people who’ve been waiting this long to read it, i hope y’all enjoy it

previous parts: quick fix, surprise visit, charity work

It’s been a week since the bake sale, meaning that it’s also been a week since Abby last had her hands on you.

You’d be lying if you said that this week was flying slow for you right now, because to your surprise, seven days flew by like seven minutes, and before you knew it, it was officially Saturday.

You’re sitting in your room by your dresser, fully dressed from head to toe in the finest Western apparel that you own, finishing the touches on your makeup in the mirror. You then look down at your phone for a moment, still eyeing the last text that Abby had sent you.

She invited you to go to Wild Randy’s tonight, and while you were excited to see her again, you were dreading it at the same time.

It was mainly because Wild Randy’s was the go-to place for you and Joel, and as bad as you want to sneak off with Abby again, you knew that you’d also have to make sure you wouldn’t get caught by your dad either.

You take a few deep breaths before standing up and adjusting your belt, then grabbing your phone and bag before exiting your bedroom.

“Dad! I’m ready to go!” you call out as you strut down the stairs. Given that you always take longer than him to get ready, you figured he’d be sitting on the couch waiting for you, but to your surprise, he wasn’t there.

“Dad? Where are you?” you call out for him again, entering the kitchen to find it empty as well. You roam around the house for a bit before entering the garage, seeing him still in his work clothes working on blueprints. “Dad…are you not coming?”

Joel looks up at you, frowning once he sees you ready to leave. “Oh, shit…it’s Saturday isn’t it?” he says, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I’m sorry kid, I know we go to Randy’s every Saturday but…work’s just been tyin’ me down lately.”

You nod to your dad in acknowledgment. “Well, we can skip tonight if—“

“No, no, no, s’alright,” he says, quickly cutting off your words. “You go. There’s always next weekend right?” he looks down for a moment at his workspace before looking back up at you. “Are you gonna drive yourself there or…?”

“Oh, um it’s okay Dad, I can text Dina for a ride.” you take a few steps closer to him before continuing. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” you ask him, receiving a nod from him in response.

“Okay, well…don’t stay up too late, we have to go to the hardware store next week to start getting supplies for the Mitchell home.” you remind him as you walk your way to the door.

Joel clicks his tongue at you in response. “Thanks for remindin’ me, kid. Don’t have too much fun out there, alright?”

You smile and nod back at him before leaving the garage. Even though you felt bad that your dad couldn’t come, you can’t help but feel relieved about it either. With your dad out of the way, you’d be able to get some time with Abby without the risk of getting caught by him.

You pull out your phone to send a text to Dina telling her to pick you up, and in less than ten minutes she was already honking at your door. While checking to make sure you have everything, you exit your house before locking it, walking down the porch to see Dina inside her car with the windows rolled down.

“Hey, you!” she shouts out, leaning forward over her steering wheel. “Ready for Randy’s?”

“You bet I am!” you shout back to her as you hurriedly get into the passenger side of her car and sit down.

The ride to Wild Randy’s was pretty quick, given that there’s never a rush hour on Saturdays. Aside from the twenty minutes it took Dina to find an available parking spot, the two of you were now quickly settled at the bar.

“So tell me, how’s it going with you and Abby?” Dina asks you as you both sit yourselves down on the bar stools.

Before you can respond to her, Jesse ends up cutting in from behind the bar with two beers in his hand. “Wait a second, you’ve been having a thing with Anderson?” he asks you, popping open the two bottles before handing them to you and Dina. “Didn’t you say that your dad doesn’t want you around her?”

You nod to him in response. “Yeah, and I mean I’ve been doing that for what, four, five years now? But I needed her to come over a few weeks ago to fix an outlet in my living room and it just like…happened, you know?” you explained, taking a sip from your beer.

Dina quickly gulped and set her bottle back down on the bar. “Wait a minute…is that why you were acting so weird during movie night?”

“Yeah…” you tell her with a nod, taking another sip out of your beer. “Anyways, she told me she was going to be here today so…” your words drift off as you turn your head around in search of her, and you are quick to catch her entering the bar with her group of friends. Not only that, but her father was also nowhere to be seen.

It was the first time you saw Abby like this, outside of work and not in her work clothes for once. She was wearing a pair of jeans instead of her usual cargo pants, a pair of western boots instead of her usual work ones, and her tool belt was ditched for a leather belt with a metal buckle on the center. She also had on a tight button-up that showed off her muscles, and to top it all off, a cowboy’s hat that rested over her braided blond hair.

You hate to admit it, but she was looking pretty damn good right now.

Dina suddenly snaps her fingers at you to get your attention, causing you to swivel your chair back around. “She’s there right now isn’t she?” she asks you, receiving a nod from you in response.

“Yeah, I want to go talk to her but…” your words drift off again as you turn back to see her. As you check her out, you notice from the corner of your eye some movement going on towards your left. You fully swivel your chair around this time to get a better look. It appeared to be a group of employees carrying out a large mechanical bull inside an inflatable ring, while another employee stood next to them, giving them orders on where to position the machine.

“Jesse,” you call out to him, swiveling your stool back to face him. “They’re bringing back the bull?”

Jesse looks up briefly to see the mechanical bull being set up before looking back down and pouring some contents into a cocktail shaker. “Yeah, we’ve been getting so many requests to bring it back up after our last bull broke down last year,” he explains as he continues preparing the cocktail for the customer in front of him.

You briefly look back at the bull for a moment, then look over to where Abby was. At that moment, an idea instantly sparked in your mind. What better way could there be to catch Abby’s attention than impressing her by taking a ride on the mechanical bull?

The sound of a loud microphone tap shakes you out of your thoughts, and you look over to see the bar’s owner standing in front of the bull with the microphone in his hand. “Ladies and gentlemen!” he calls out, quickly grabbing the attention of all the patrons inside the dimly lit bar. “I’m pleased to announce that we now have our brand new and improved mechanical bull back into our bar!” he announces, quickly receiving cheers and applause from the customers. “Now who in here…” he says, pointing a finger around the bar. “Is gonna be the first one to be brave enough and take her for a ride?”

You look around the bar to see several amounts of people already preparing themselves for the challenge. Part of you wanted to not do it, but a bigger part of you wanted to ride that damn bull like there was no tomorrow. You were willing to do it, just for the sake of impressing Abby. Neither of your dads were here right now, so who knows when you could get another opportunity like this? It was either now or never.

“I’ll do it!” you shout out, quickly raising your hand to get the owner’s attention.

Dina quickly grabs your hand and pulls it down to your lap. “What are you doing? Are you seriously gonna ride that thing?” she asks with concern.

You open your mouth to respond, but you’re cut off by the owner shouting at you. “You right there! Come on up here!”

You look over at the man before back at Dina. “I guess I am now,” you tell her with a shrug, hopping off of the bar stool and approaching your way towards the ring.

As you walk away from the bar, Jesse comes to Dina from behind, leaning into her side. “I’ll bet you $20 that she won’t last the full five minutes.”

You watch the owner squint to try to get a better look at you as you get closer to the inflatable ring. “Well well well, what do we have here!” he says as you make it to the ring, now standing next to him. “If it isn’t Joel Miller’s daughter herself. You think you’ll be able to handle the bull, Miss Miller?” he asks, pointing the microphone towards you.

You grab the mic from the owner and hold it closer to yourself. “Well, I guess we’ll have to see but…I think I could handle her,” you tell him with confidence before handing the mic back to him.

Numerous amounts of patrons clap and cheer you on in response. As the owner continues to speak to the audience, you step into the inflatable ring, watching as your boots sink inside. You look at your surroundings for a moment, seeing all of the customers placing their bidding money into a hat and passing it around the bar. The hat goes around past Abby as well, and you could’ve sworn she had slipped a hundred-dollar bill in there for you. Her eyes then meet with yours for a moment, and so does that stupid smirk of hers.

“Alright Miss Miller, you have five minutes up on the clock now, if you can make it to the end, you win the bidding money, got it?” the owner explains to you.

You nod at him in acknowledgment. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

You then turn back around so you’re facing the bull. You take a few steps backward as a head start, then quickly run forward and hop on top of the bull. Your hands quickly grab onto the handles, and you keep your legs wrapped around the sides of the bull. Lastly, you position your hips on the bull by pushing them forward, keeping yourself as close as possible to the saddle.

The bull was quickly activated as soon as you sat down, and so was the timer. The machine began to rock back and forth, slowly to start. Once you felt like you were getting the hang of it, that’s when the speed began to go faster. Your grip on the bull progressively gets tighter and tighter the more that the speed increases. It eventually escalated to the fullest speed, the bull now moving and spinning around like crazy. Time has never flown by slower for you than at this moment. On the inside, you were getting so dizzy to where you were going to be sick. But you couldn’t express that. Not in front of the audience. Not in front of Abby.

Regardless of it, you refused to let go. You held onto the bull like your life depended on it, waiting for the timer to count down to zero. Five minutes felt more like an eternity to you right now, but you soon start to feel relief once you hear the audience begin to count down.

Ten, nine, eight…

You lock down your grip on the bull’s handles.

Seven, six, five…

Your legs remain secure on each side of the saddle, and your hips push forward against it. As much as you were trying to hold onto the bull, you couldn’t help but imagine your hips pushing forward on Abby’s str—

Four, three, two, one!

The timer goes off, and the bull begins to slow itself down. As the machine comes to a stop, you instantly loosen your grip on it. You let out a breath of relief as you look up, watching all of the patrons cheer and applaud you. One of the employees approaches to help you, and you carefully hop off the bull before exiting the ring.

“I have to say you did phenomenal on that bull there, Miss Miller.” the owner tells you through the mic, handing you the bidding money. “Anything you wanna say to the audience?”

You take the money from his hands before taking the microphone. “Well, first of all, thank you all for bidding on me, and second…” you pause for a moment before continuing. “And I don’t mean to self-promote but…if anyone here needs any construction help…be sure to contact my dad’s company, Miller Contracting. We’re the best in all of Austin.” your eyes scan around the audience before your gaze fixes on Abby. You keep your eyes on her for a little bit, smirking at her before looking back at the audience and walking off, a last set of applause happening as you do so.

You make your way back to the spot where Jesse and Dina remain. “See? Told y’all I’d beat that thing,” you say, flaunting your bidding money in front of them. Jesse leans forward on the bar to get closer to you. “Mind if I get a cut of that?” he asks, trying to grab the money from your hand.

You move your hand away from him and shake your head. “Hell no, I won this fair and square,” you tell him, clutching the money close to your chest. “Besides, didn’t you bid against me anyway?”

Jesse scoffs, still leaning forward on the bar. “Yeah, but I still have rent to pay,” he replies before taking his weight off the bar to assist another customer.

You simply roll your eyes at him and chuckle in response as you count your money. “Don’t be so dramatic, it’s not even that much—“ your words quickly cut off once you notice something unusual on the hundred-dollar bill. You pull it out of the thin stack, seeing a note attached to it that reads:

“Meet me at the parking lot in five. —A”

You smirk to yourself upon reading the message, not even realizing that you were doing so until Dina points it out. “She wants you to go see her, doesn’t she?” she asks, crossing her arms at you.

You simply nod at her in acknowledgment. “Yeah, she does…” you reply, reaching to the bar to grab the rest of your things before saying goodbye to Jesse and Dina. Upon leaving, you look over to see Abby on the other side of the bar. You watch as she pays for her beer and leaves from the other exit. The thrill and excitement starts to consume you already in seeing her again.

The cool air hits you once you exit the bar. You roam around the parking lot in search of her until you hear a faint whistling sound from behind. You turn around to see Abby’s prominent figure from a distance leaning on the side of her truck. You don’t approach her quickly though. Instead, you take your time walking your way towards her.

“Well, well, well…if it isn’t the bull tamer herself…” Abby says, taking her weight off the truck. “You looked good up there, you know…riding that thing.”

You smirk and take a step closer to her. “I’m glad. Wanted to put on a show for you there,” you tell her quietly, and she leans in to give you a kiss, the rim of her cowboy hat slightly brushing over the top of your head as your lips briefly connect.

“You know…” she tells you quietly, slightly separating her lips from yours. “I’ve got something else that you can take a ride on for me…”

“Oh yeah?” you whisper back to her. “And what might that be?”

“Why don’t you hop in my truck and find out?”

And with that you take a step back, letting Abby unlock her truck before opening the passenger door and entering inside. Upon opening the door, you couldn’t help but notice that the windows in Abby’s truck were slightly darker than the last time you saw it…did she seriously get her windows tinted?

Abby holds the door open for you, and you quickly climb inside and hop onto her lap before she closes the door and locks it, now confining the both of you inside. Your thighs wrap themselves around Abby’s lab and you push your hips forward over her crotch, just like how you did on the bull. You could practically feel the bulge of her strap under all that denim.

Abby lets out a soft groan at the sudden friction. “How about you get it wet for me first, yeah?” she says, reaching down to the lever on the bottom part of the seat and pushing it back to give you some space on the ground.

You don’t even think twice about it, instantly dropping down to your knees and unzipping her jeans before pulling the thick black strap out of her boxers. After seeing the sight of it, you were pretty shocked. You didn’t get a good look when she fucked you last time, but now that it’s in your hands, you’re amazed that you were able to take the immense length of Abby’s strap.

Your fingers wrap around the large piece of silicone before you lean into it, lips instantly wrapping around the tip. You gently suck onto the tip for a moment, then slowly work your way down to the base of the strap. However, your mouth couldn’t last being down so deep, so you briefly pull it back up to the tip before going back down, repeatedly continuing your movements thereafter.

Abby lets out a quiet groan as she feels the base of her strap rubbing against her clit. Replacing your mouth with your hand, you look up for a moment to see her head slightly tilted back, her cowboy hat obstructing her view as well.

You keep stroking her strap with one hand, spreading your saliva all over from base to tip to distract her. As you do that, you use your other hand to gently shift the harness to the side and sneak your fingers into the crotch of her boxers, instantly finding access to her wet pussy before sliding two of them inside.

Abby notices the sudden shift of movement and looks down at you. “What the hell are you—oh fuck—“ her words get cut off with a quiet groan as you begin to curl her fingers inside of her. “Oh fuck yeah, k-keep doing that…”

You smirk back at her as you continue to pump your fingers inside her, now fully diverting your attention away from the strap for a moment. Your other hand moves to keep the harness of the strap pushed to the side while you finger Abby’s pussy, and you look up to keep an eye on her every movement—the way her hands grip the seat of the truck, the moans and whines escaping from her mouth, and how her eyes were tightly shut and the head was thrown back in pleasure. You’d be lying if you said that the way she looked right now wasn’t turning you on because you can just easily feel your arousal pooling in between your thighs as you do this to her.

“God, fucking hell—go…go faster…” Abby whines out to you, tightening her grip on the seat as she manspreads herself farther on it to give you more space. You simply nod in acknowledgment, speeding up your pace inside her in a desperate effort to get her to cum.

You can visibly see her breaths getting deeper, and you can practically feel the way her cunt began to contract around your two fingers, knowing that she was getting close. Within moments, your fingers get instantly coated with her release as she cums around them with a loud groan. Her breathing soon slows down as she recovers from her orgasm and she looks back down at you. Your gaze stays fixed on hers while you slide your fingers out of her pussy and place them into your mouth, sucking them clean while you get a taste of her release.

“My god…” Abby pants out, still trying to catch her breath. “No one’s ever made me cum that fast before…you’re good at this too, you know.”

You smirk back at her as you sit back for a moment, briefly resting your weight on the back of your boots. “Looks like you’re not the only one who’s good at making a quick fix, Anderson.” the blonde simply shakes her head at you in response before patting her hand on her lap. “Your turn now, angel. Get on up here.”

Without hesitation, you slowly lift yourself from the floor of the truck and climb onto Abby’s lap in the passenger seat, her large hands quickly roaming up and down your hips as you do so. You watch as she scrunches up your skirt around your hips and brings one of her hands down to the crotch of your underwear, smirking once she senses the wetness underneath it. “Looks like she’s pretty eager to take a ride, don’t you think?”

You nod quickly in response, and you lift yourself to hover over the strap. Abby helps you out by shifting your underwear to the side and spreading your puffy folds open. You grab the strap with one hand to align it with your entrance while you grab onto Abby’s shoulder with the other to support yourself as you go down.

The tip meets with your entrance, and you whimper at the sudden stretch. Your grip on Abby’s shoulder tightens as you try to maintain your balance over her lap. And then, little by little…you begin to sink down her strap, all the way until your folds were pressing over the base of it.

Once the entire length was inside you, you used your other hand to grab Abby’s other shoulder for balance. The feeling this time was a little more difficult to handle in comparison to how Abby had fucked you at the bake sale. You weren’t bent over, nor did you have the support of the counter either. You were completely sat upright, in the confined passenger seat of Abby’s truck, with her strap so far inside you that she could visibly see the tip poking out of your lower stomach. It sure felt overwhelming, to say the least.

“Fuck…you look good for me like this…” she mutters out quietly as she runs her thumbs down your stomach, gently pressing onto the bulge that was being formed from her strap. She watches as you continue to stay upright, now squirming in her grasp as a response to the pressure she was giving to your stomach. “You know…it’s not gonna feel any better if you don’t move.” she continues, now bringing one hand further down to rub your clit. “Take a ride on it, princess…It’ll feel good once you start moving.”

Your eyes flicker down to the watch that was wrapped around Abby’s left wrist. You glance at the time.

10:39…10:40.

You take a deep breath and tighten your grip on Abby’s broad shoulders. As her hands remain planted on your body, you begin to lift yourself up before going straight back down. You repeat the process, now developing a slow pace on her strap.

Abby smirks as she looks up at you, watching every moan and whimper escape from your lips as you fuck yourself on her cock. “There we go, that’s it…atta girl…” her praises and coos continue, now leading you to move at a faster pace. As you begin to ride her faster, Abby notices how close your head is getting to the ceiling of her truck every time you go up. While keeping one hand planted on you, she quickly takes off her cowboy hat and places it on your head, fixing up the rim so she can still see you. “Prettiest cowgirl I’ve ever seen,” she mutters out quietly, placing her hand back onto your hip as you keep riding her.

As you keep riding Abby’s strap, you take a glance out the window, making you slow down to get a better look. You see some people leaving the bar and walking their way back to their vehicles, and your heart begins fucking racing when they pass by Abby’s truck, completely oblivious of the events that are happening inside it.

“Hey,” Abby squeezes your hip, causing you to direct your attention back to her. “They’re not seeing any of this, you know…” she pauses for a moment before continuing. “But I bet you want them to, don’t you? It’s obvious you enjoyed throwing on that little show back there at the bar earlier, so would this be any different?” she asks, leaning in to kiss you. “Would it be any different if those same people saw a pretty cowgirl like you slutting herself out for me like this? Riding my cock and making a mess all over my lap? Hm?”

You whine back at her, shaking your head. “Yeah, I knew you’d like that, my filthy little cowgirl…” she responds with a smirk. “But you see, that’s why I have all of my windows tinted now…because I don’t want anyone to see what’s really mine.”

Your pussy practically throbs at her words. You were so distracted by what Abby was saying to you that didn’t even realize that you had stopped riding her. Your arousal was now just soaking up her cock and jeans. Abby looks down at her lap and smirks before looking back up at you. “I didn’t tell you to stop now, did I?” she asks, giving you a smack on your ass. “C’mon, cowgirl…keep fucking riding me.”

Your pace now begins to quicken this time, and you move your left hand to the armrest that was above your head, gripping it as you keep your other hand on her shoulder. “F-fuck, Abby…f-feels so good….” you moan out to her, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment as the tip of her strap presses onto your cervix while you ride.

“Oh yeah? Does it feel good, princess?” she asks, admiring how you were starting to go dumb on her cock. “That’s it, keep riding me, just like that…Ride me just like how you were riding that damn bull.”

Abby’s words had your stomach doing fucking flips. You tried your best to maintain your fast pace as you rode her strap, but your legs were quickly starting to give out. “A-Abby, help me…please…”

“Aw, you poor thing, getting tired already now aren’t you?” Without any warning, Abby tightens her grip on your hips and begins to slam her cock right into you. You yelp in surprise as your left hand flies from the armrest back onto Abby’s shoulder, and you continue to push your hips down as Abby keeps thrusting inside you. “C’mon cowgirl, be a good girl and cum for me now…”

Your cunt begins to clench around her strap, indicating that you were about to cum. Abby looks down at your pussy, watching in awe as a white ring began to quickly form on her strap. Her thumb meets with your clit, quickly rubbing it as you continue to cum all over her cock, whimpering and moaning out her name as you do so.

As you finish riding out your orgasm, your pace begins to slow down and you rest yourself on Abby’s chest, panting deeply as you try to catch your breath. Before Abby pulls herself out, you grab her left wrist again and glance back down at her watch.

10:43…10:44.

“Four minutes,” Abby says, looking down at her watch. “Looks like you made a new record.”

You playfully push her arm back as she brings her hand back onto your hip and slowly pulls her strap out of your fucked out pussy, causing you to whine at the loss of it. Keeping you in her arms, Abby trades places with you and carefully rests your limp body onto the seat while briefly she gets onto the ground. She peeks through the fogged up windows, making sure that the coast was clear so she could get out of the truck.

As you watch Abby hop off her truck, your eyes start to feel heavy from the exhaustion before quickly fluttering shut for a moment. As your eyes were closed, you could feel Abby’s large hands move your body around before the sudden warmth of her tongue makes contact with your sore cunt, causing you to involuntarily jerk away.

“Hey, relax…I’m just cleaning you up a bit,” she mutters out to you. You simply nod in response, eyes remaining shut as your body eases in and relaxes into her touch again. The gentle movements of Abby’s tongue and lips on your pussy easily removes the tension in your thighs, making you feel as if you were now sinking into the leather of the seat. You then start to feel some shifting of your clothes along with the sounds of the truck doors opening and closing right before you briefly fall into a state of slumber.

The sudden rumbling movements of the truck cause your eyes to slowly flicker back open. You wake up to find yourself lying on your left side in the passenger seat, but now with the seatbelt secured over you. The dim lights of the truck are no longer present, only the faint brightness of the music player on the dashboard is the only thing illuminating your vision right now. The sounds of the few cars on the road surround you, along with the country music quietly playing inside as well. You look up to see Abby with her gaze fixed on the road, with one hand planted firmly on the steering wheel while the other simply rested over on the center console.

You rest your hand on top of hers, and Abby quickly notices that gentle touch of yours, briefly glancing down to look at you. “Hey there…” she says with a smile before looking back up at the road. “You were out for most of the ride, feeling any better?” she asks, gently enclosing your hand into her large palm.

You shift around in your seat, no longer feeling as sore as you were before. “Yeah, a little…” you tell her, resting your head back on the seat as you watch her drive. “I had a really good time tonight, you know…” you tell her, to which she smiles in response.

“I did too,” she replies, quickly looking over to you again. “Felt nice to finally escape from our dads for once.”

The speed of the truck soon starts to slow down before coming to a halt. Your heart instantly sinks to the pit of your stomach, and your smile begins to fade. You knew what this meant.

It meant that you were back home. Your time with Abby was now up.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and sit up completely to look over at the sight of your house. All of the lights were shut off, except for the faint blue light of the living room TV, and you could easily see your dad’s head tilted to the side, indicating that he was now asleep.

You let out a sigh. “I…I don’t want to go back in there,” you say, turning your head back to look at Abby. She simply sighs and gently rubs your shoulder. “I know you don’t, angel…but we can’t risk it. As much as I can’t stand your dad, I don’t want him to get worried about you either.”

Your head hangs low now, nodding in acknowledgment. Abby’s hand gently holds your chin to lift your face. “You know this won’t be the last time, right?” she asks you, to which you nod again.

“I know, I just…I’ll miss you, Abs…who knows when we’ll see each other again?” you ask back, looking up into her soft blue eyes. She nods back at you in response. “It’ll happen again soon, okay? Just know that I’m always gonna have you on my mind, alright?” she says before quickly leaning in to kiss you, the rim of her hat on your head brushing over her hair this time as she does so.

You instantly kiss her back before pulling away to grab your things from the ground. You take a deep breath and open the door, exiting the truck and closing it. Your boots now meet with the concrete of the sidewalk, and you walk your way to the front door of your house. Before you go in, you look back to see Abby watching you from her truck, and you two give each other a final wave before she drives off to park into the driveway of her house.

As the lights of Abby’s truck shut off now, you turn back to the door to unlock it. You slowly open the door just enough to squeeze yourself inside before closing it and locking it again. You turn around to see Joel fast asleep on his recliner while the TV screen illuminates the whole room. Without making a sound, you tiptoe on over to pick up the remote from the coffee table and shut off the TV. You set the remote back down and turn over to pick up a throw blanket from the couch to tuck your dad in before heading upstairs to your bedroom.

The door creaks slightly as you enter inside. You slowly close the door before letting out a sigh as you set your bag down on the ground before kicking off your boots. You take off Abby’s hat and set it on top of your dresser before the rest of your clothes come off of you and to the ground until you’re down to your underwear. You pick up a random oversized shirt from your dad’s company and throw it on. As you’re taking off your makeup, your phone buzzes on your bed, and you reach over to pick it up.

“Abby: I’ll be thinking of you.”

You look up from the screen to your right, seeing her broad silhouette in the bedroom window across from yours. The two of you stare at each other for a bit, until you wave her off and get into bed, to which she does the same right after.

Not only was this the first night the two of you had officially spent alone together, but it was also the first night where you both just couldn’t take each other off of your minds now.

And all you could do was just wait until your path meets with hers again.

- tags 🏷️: @nyctophiliq @lucidfairies @inf3ct3dd @aouiaa @abbysfavewh0rx @lia-winther @grooviestcowboy @pretty-prrincess-13 @iwillkilyou @erinsdeluluworld @elliens4 @totallyghostdgirl @sirenbxby @bellaramslover @uraesthete @cherrycolouredflunk @whorn3y @thatonementallyillsimp @elliewilliamsmunch @gaptoothedlesbo @deadbolted @mochiivqi @floptron @swtsuna @naomis-daydream @hunnybunnyhazel @paprikahoernchen @bbglmfao @thesevi0lentdelights @mostlyhornyandsad @littlegingerperson @ur-fav-pixi @2busyfangirling @lmaoo-spiderman @olive-fics @onlinelesbo @piscesfairyyy @mrsandersons (striked means i couldn’t tag)

2024 © atomicami | all rights reserved. do not copy, modify, or translate any of my works.

[dark-and-kawaii]

‎‧₊˚✧[ Bred So Nicely ]✧˚₊‧

Summary: Giving his cock a few lazy strokes, Zevlor pressed the head back against your entrance, your pussy greedily swallowing it up. He could feel how his cock was pushing his seed he had just released inside your pussy even deeper into you... It was like he was a young hellrider again having sex for the first time!

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡ — Pairing: Zevlor x F!Tav/Reader

‎⋆౨ৎ˚⟡ — Content: ‎NSFW - Breeding - Multiple Creampies - Stuffed To The Brim With Cum - Overflowing - Stretched So Good - Cervix Pounding - Your Body Gets Bullied Beautifully - Zevlor Saves A Horse Amd Rides You - Impregnation - Touch Of Angst Towards The End - Comfort - Age Gap

‎⋆౨ৎ˚⟡ — Notes: Are you horny and need a good lewd read? Look no further ♡ ♡ ♡

His cock thrust violently into you, his hips slamming down unlike anything you had ever experienced. His hands, once so soft, were now rough and calloused, gripping your own arms with bruising strength, as though he would never let go.

His mouth was open in a wordless moan, his teeth bared and clenched together, and his fiery orange eyes were half lidded.

An unbelievable amount of sperm spilled inside your womb, filling you to the point of bursting, before gushing out of your vagina and running down his still thrusting cock… Something he had only seen in his dreams, something he thought he could never have. But by the gods, you were real. Your body was underneath him, your womb accepting his seed, his love. Your voice crying out to him. You were here.

“Mmns’Zwevlor~ Y-you’re let-ting out s’much inside me~♡”

Of course he was, he had been so pent up for so long, his mind was a mess. It felt so good, the way your gummy walls clamped down on him, sucking him in deeper, and the way your cervix fluttered as if kissing the head of his cock, asking for more. He just couldn’t stop cumming, his balls emptying out his thick white cream inside of you over and over, your belly feeling full.

“Zeeeevlor~♡ I c-can feel you in my tummy~ ♡ It feels s-so good inside~~!♡ S-so full~ ♡ Mmn-! ♡ F-fill me even more, I want it all~!”

He couldn’t believe it, how his cock was still raring to go after dumping that much inside you. How his cock was still so needy…

Zevlor pulled himself free of you, watching as your walls clung to him, desperate for him to stay inside- watching how your body shuddered, your arms above you as if he was still pinning you down, your breasts heaving as you panted.

His tail kept you spread for him, giving him a good view of his cum dribbling freely from your well fucked cunt, his eyes drawn to the way your belly bulged slightly, your womb stuffed to the brim…

Giving his cock a few lazy strokes, Zevlor pressed the head back against your entrance, your pussy greedily swallowing it up. He could feel how his cock was pushing his seed he had just released inside your pussy even deeper into you... It was like he was a young hellrider again having sex for the first time!

He leaned over you, his hands gripping yours tightly as he buried his face into your shoulder, breathing heavily as his hips snapped forward, his balls slapping against your ass.

“P-please~ don’t n’ stop ~! Y-your cock!~ I-it makes my head spin~ ♡ Zevlor!”

You couldn't tell where your legs and arms were, nor could you see anything besides the man on top of you. It felt like the world was spinning and you were lost in the haze of pleasure this old man was giving you. The only feeling you could register was the cock inside you~

There was a voice- his voice yelling at him in the back of his head, about how he was a middle aged man in his fifties making a baby with a young thing like you. One he had just met days ago.

Hearing your cute cries, his erection wouldn’t let him stop. Not when you were moaning his name so sweetly, not when your arms were wrapping around his neck, holding him close, not when your legs were wrapping around his hips… The man Astarion had teased you about- the old wet rag of a hellrider, continued to pour his seed inside of you countless times.

And each time he could feel his cum slosh around inside you- his veiny ridged cock pushing his seed deeper and deeper into your fertile womb, doing that obsessively over and over again until he was sure one of his little swimmers found their mark.

He wanted to impregnate you, to become a father and leave behind descendants. Your young, far less aged body ripe and ready for conception… And your body seemed eager enough, hungry to swallow up his seed.

“Nghn~ Th-thrusting sh’ow deeeep~ ♡” your tongue lolled out as you felt him squish your legs against your chest, his cock threatening to push past the entrance to your womb- his whole body weight pressed to you.

His hand reached up, grabbing your jaw with a gentle touch, his eyes locked on yours. You couldn't look away, those orange orbs staring at you as if trying to devour you whole, “Ha’ah’ ha- Tell me, please- hha“ Zevlor panted, his hot breath seen due to the coolair within the groves cave, “before my courage ups and flees, tell me that you’re min-“

“I’m n’ mn’yours~♡!! Zev~ Zevlor~!!! I belong s’to yo-u~ ♡♡!!! ♡♡♡!!♡!!~!! I-ah~I'm c-cumming-!!! ♡ I-I'm cummmmmmmiiiing~!!!!!!!!!~ ♡♡ ♡♡ ♡♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡♡ ♡♡ ♡♡ Ahhhh~~~ ♡♡ ♡♡♡ ♡♡♡!!! I’m going t-to hav-e a hell-sp-awns baby~♡Nnn’!!!”

You screamed as your mind blanked out, a violent orgasm ripping through your body, your toes curling, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Zevlor could feel your walls spasm and tighten, milking him dry as he filled your womb with another load. He bit into the crook of your neck as he came, a deep, primal growl vibrating through his body, his hand digging into your thigh as his other grabbed the back of your head and kept him pinned to you- emptying his balls deep inside your belly.

He could feel how his balls pulsed as he sent shot after shot of his hellish seed into you one final time… He watched as you gasped- as if you could clearly feel each hot gush of his seed entering your womb.

Zevlor was sure that was the last of it… His cock had already begun to soften, but his mind was still lost in a fog of lust.

Neither of you attempted to move, instead you both just stayed in the position, panting, covered in sweat and each others fluids. His hand stroked your head as your own hand rubbed the base of his horns- both of you exhausted and in bliss.

Your body was still a trembling mess, the aftershocks of pleasure making you see stars, unable to form a coherent thought. You couldn't see a thing, the world nothing but a blur as you gasped for air- the feel of his body the only thing that kept you grounded.

He was heavy and warm, enveloping you in a comforting warmth that made your body feel relaxed. And with his weight resting against you, you felt so safe and cozy. It was a wonderful feeling, but gradually his warmth began to fade, as he began to shift away from you.

Instinctively, you pulled him close, a needy whine coming from you as you wrapped your arms around him tighter, refusing to let him go… Your body holding onto him desperately. You didn’t want him to leave, didn’t want to go your separate ways come morning…

And neither did he.

You could feel how tears formed at the corners of your eyes, a sense of panic gripping you, “I- I don’t want to leaveyou…” you sobbed, burying your face into his chest, the salty liquid staining his skin, the words he was about to say stuck in his throat.

Afraid that any movement would only upset you more, he stayed where he was, his hands stroking the sides of your head. His soft cock still inside of you- and with each sob you took, you could feel his cum squelch around inside you…

Zevlor could smell his own scent clinging to you, a pleasant warmth filling his chest… He wanted to stay with you, wanted to settle down with a family, to be with you forever. And judging from the way you were clinging onto him, you wanted him just as badly…

He couldn’t tell you how his heart had almost broken when you sobbed out those words… How he wished he could join you in your travels, but he had his people to worry about… He needed to get them to Baldurs Gate… “My dear,-”

A sharp gasp left your lips as his soft cock slid out of you, a rush of cum spilling from your sore cunt, a deep blush staining your cheeks as you realized he could see-

Zevlor watched as his cum dripped out of you, his mouth open as he breathed heavily- a strange mixture of emotions running through him, “I will meet you in Baldurs Gate.” His fiery orbs met with your glossed ones, his hands wiping the tears away as he brought his face close to yours, his lips hovering over yours, the tips of his fangs brushing against the softness of your lips, “I’ll wait for you there- that’s if you’ll still have this old soul as yours when we meet again?” His tail was coiled around your leg, “But I need to see my people there safely. Please, don't cry, I can't bear seeing such a sad expression on you. Not after what we've done.”

The promise to be with him again was enough to quell the fear that had been building up in you, And you nodded, a shy smile on your lips, “Zevlor…”

The way you said his name, the way you were looking up at him- he couldn't help but think you looked beautiful. Your eyes, bright and hopeful, staring back at him.

With the promise that the two of you would meet again, his lips met yours, the kiss gentle and chaste, the tip of his tongue licking at the seam of your lips, silently asking permission, and which was granted- your lips parting, allowing him access.

You two had only just met days ago, but the feelings were there- strong and deep…

He was no longer an old, tired Hellrider, he was no longer some washed up man… Here in your embrace he felt young, like he had a second chance at love- a chance he thought he would never have.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

On Crimson Coats

Part Five of this pirate au, there's smut in this one, 18+ MDNI. This applies to ageless and blank blogs.

~4.5k words

His confession is heavy. It makes your throat tighten, your eyes want to well with tears. He can't let you go. He said that, he sounds so convicted and sure of it. But it's almost unbelievable. It had been so simple for him to leave you before.

"I know how difficult it must be to see me now, after everything," Your husband continues, and his gaze softens, a trace of vulnerability seeping through the facade he's trying desperately to maintain. "I may not know the exact thoughts that reside in your mind, treasure, but I can see the shadows that cloud your eyes."

"You know nothing of what I feel or think," You retort, voice strained. You try to pull away, try to create space between you and the man who's been hunting you everyday since you left.

He only holds you steadily, not letting an inch of space grow between you. "I know that a part of you still yearns for me, even after all we've been through. I am still yours, as you are still mine."

You start to protest, lifting your head in defiance. But, Jason sighs out your name, "Darling, you cannot begin to understand how it feels to be so utterly and hopelessly in love with you. Being without you is like ripping apart my own soul. I know you have not forgotten that feeling."

He dips down to kiss the crown of your head, "I will make you happy, treasure. You'll see." Jason then lets go of you and steps back towards your horse.

You stare at him, at a loss for words as he grabs the reins of a large stallion, "Now, come along, my love, the crew is waiting."

"The crew," You echo, almost airily as he leads his horse over to you.

"Aye, love. I've sent them ahead, you'll see them soon," he says, grabbing your waist with both hands and starting to lift you onto his horse.

"Wait," You say quickly, grabbing his arms, "I want to– Can't I ride my own horse?"

His expression visibly tightens at your plea, reluctance flashing in his eyes. But, Jason sets you back down, and bites back his immediate instinct to insist you ride together, "If that is what you prefer."

You swiftly pull away from him and haul yourself up onto your horse, moving before he gets the chance to offer you help.

He hums thoughtfully, and his gaze never leaves you as he mounts his own horse with all the grace befitting a skilled rider.

You gather the reins, and you can't help but laugh softly when you catch his eyes looking between his horse and yours, as if calculating which stead would be faster in a chase.

His focus whips back towards you when you laugh, surprise and weariness crossing his features. Your laugh, though quiet, is a stark contrast to the tense atmosphere that hangs in the air, "Dare I ask what brings you such joy, treasure?"

"It's only that we're doing the same thing," You admit, gently nudging your horse to start walking, "Making plans, considering what the other will do."

He's quick to guide his own horse to match your pace, "So you are planning to leave again."

His questions sobers the laughter in your voice, "I– don't know."

The journey is silent for a long time after that. It makes your skin itch, questions dance at the tip of your tongue. You break when he quietly hands you an apple when your stomach growls, "Back at the tavern, why did you leave me all the coin?"

He nods sagely, like he expected the question, "It was a misguided attempt to sway you into staying. Perhaps I had hoped it would convince you that a life with me still held value, that I could provide for you."

You don't have a way to answer that, your own feelings too tangled and complicated to bring to words. That it was never the money that had value to you.

Your travels are silent again, that is, until Jason asks a question of his own, "Did you keep the ring?"

"I did. I kept the pins too," you say idly, the confession spills out thoughtlessly, but you realize the significance of it when he sucks in a sharp breath.

"The pins," he murmurs, "I remember how the silver glinted in your hair."

The sounds of the horses ring between you for a moment before he speaks again, "Let us rest for the night, love. We can finish our travels to port tomorrow."

"Rest," You question, eyes trailing to the road ahead.

"There's an inn ahead, treasure. I would not make you sleep on the dirt," he drawls, and true to his word, lights of a small town begin to flicker in the distance.

He steers the horses towards the inn, and soon enough, the horses are stabled and Jason's offering you his hand to help you dismount.

You hesitate, but take it. His touch is gentle, but firm as he helps you down, carefully resting a hand on your hip to steady you.

Neither of you move when your feet hit the ground. It's intoxicating to be this close to him again, after hours riding next to him in silence. Your husband still towers over you, is still covered in scars and calluses, yet his touch is still careful when he traces your knuckles with his thumb.

You pull away, and his face shifts with disappointment as he drops your hand. He gestures vaguely towards the entrance, adjusts his hat and telltale coat, "Shall we, love?"

You manage a nod and follow his confident strides into the inn. The warm light of the lanterns spills into the darkness as he opens the door and the chatter of the patrons dies immediately.

Your fearsome husband is a stark contrast to the cozy atmosphere of the inn. You wish you had thrown your hood back on, as guests and staff fix on Jason.

The inn is close enough to the sea that people instinctively know who he is, know what he's capable of, know the title he wears with pride.

His eyes gleam, like he enjoys the way lesser men seem to cower, the way his presence exudes authority. The light catches the sharp angles of his face, the edge of his blade, and tension grows subtly in the air.

Whispers and clanging of mugs pick up as Jason saunters to the innkeeper, you don't miss the way your presence alongside him piques interest.

The innkeeper doesn't say a word, only scurries away, you assume, to grab a key. You linger behind your husband, eyes darting around the room.

He tilts his head at you when you don't stand by his side, and lazily loops at arm around your waist, tugging you against his side. "You're breathtaking in this light, darling," Jason says softly, eyes sharp and watchful.

"Ah, yes, a fact that's made me many a coin," You drawl, settling against his side. It's not that you want to be close to him, really, it's just safer this way. There's too many eyes on you to pull away. You repeat the notion in your mind as he chuckles and your heart skips a beat.

"Aye, I can imagine a beauty such as yours does tend to garner attention and tips," he replies, easy going and relaxed.

The innkeeper returns with a key and places it into Jason's palm. His arm doesn't leave its spot around your waist as he guides you to the stairs.

"There's only one key," You note, somewhat discontented, but not surprised.

"You make it sound as if it's unnatural for married couples to share a room," he says, half-teasing, "there's no need to fret, treasure, this is hardly our first time sharing a bed, is it?"

"I suppose not," You relent, and he smiles at you as you get to your room. Jason unlocks the door, and with a warm hand pressed to the small of your back, sends you into the room first.

It's surprisingly nice, elegant even. As you take in the large bed, the porcelain tub half tucked away behind a partition, and the plush armchairs nestled by a fireplace, you realize how expensive the room must be.

You hesitantly tug off your cloak, caked with mud from the day's ride and drop it to the floor by the door. You kick off your boots, it feels like a crime to bring so much grime and dirt into the fine room.

"You're breathtaking," Jason tells you again, removing his own coat and hat and laying them onto the bed.

You make a face at the dirty leathers on the bed, but don't try to remove them. "You've mentioned," You mumble, "I've only gotten older."

His gaze trails over your figure in admiration, "Age only adds to your elegance and charm, my love, you've always been utterly alluring."

You tut, fighting the heat that threatens to rise to your face, "When did you have time to learn such sweet words?"

Jason's eyebrow raises slightly, mischief gleaming in his eyes, "I must admit I picked up a thing or two in my journeys, but the true source of my speech is you. You, my treasure, inspire poetry."

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest, "Then perhaps you should have been a poet."

He grins, eager over you playing along, "Perhaps I should have been a bard. I could weave sonnets of your beauty and the joy you bring. But alas, I find myself more skilled in wielding a sword than a quill." He steps forward, voice lowering, "Unless, it's to write odes upon your skin with my kisses."

You falter, the words unexpected. It seems as if you can never quite keep up with him.

Your husband's eyes lock with yours, and your breath hitches at the unrestrained desire evident in his gaze as he studies your reaction. His voice drops lower, almost husky as he speaks again, "The novels I would commit to your skin with my touch. It would be a symphony, treasure."

Your gaze drops to the floor, suddenly mourning the loss of your cloak around you, a desire to hide from him, from his devoted tone.

He notices, of course he does, your unspoken desire to shield yourself from his intensity, "Forgive me, my love. I will keep my poems to myself, and my touch shall only be a whisper on your skin."

His fingers graze along the nape of your neck, and you almost jolt. When did he get so close? "Don't," You snap, voice sharpening and defenses raising.

He doesn't react to your sudden anger, only lowers his hand from your skin. His voice drops to a whisper, tone going to something pleading and soothing, "Why not, treasure? What disgusts you so much that you cannot bear my touch? Why do you despise the idea of being my partner so desperately?"

"Because you deserve someone who will fuck you in alleys, Jason!" You half-shout, and wince as hurt and realization flashes in his eyes.

"You have no idea what I want to do to you, with you, for you," he starts, voice low and steady. He pauses and lets out a shaky sigh of your name, "You can't tell me all of this is because of what happened in that alley. Please, I can't bear it."

You can't deny it, it is part of the reason you left. You stumble over your words, trying to find a way to explain your heartaches, how to tell him everything that hurts you without hurting him as well, "I– yes. No. I left because of– I left for a lot of reasons, Jason. But I almost stayed because of you."

You exhale shakily, "You were everything I wanted that day. You were perfect. Everything I dreamt of every moment you were gone."

"Ah," he breathes out, like he suddenly understands, you know he doesn't, "My absence was a weight on your heart. One day couldn't erase all those years of pain, could it?"

You swallow thickly and look away. He says your name, as if begging for your attention, "I wish I could turn back time and be the husband you deserved all those years ago. I would do it, treasure, if I only knew how."

"But you can't, Jason," You mumble, unable to bring yourself to look at him, "You can't change anything."

"I can change this– us, now. Give us a chance, my love. You'll be happy with me, with the crew, on the ship. Everything you could want, I could give you," he pleads.

You wrap your arms around yourself. You were happy for those few weeks on his ship, with his crew, with him. But how long could it really last?

"I just want to get cleaned up. Riding all day was exhausting," You tell him flatly, the fight draining out of you. You feel like you're running away. Maybe you are. Maybe it's all you know how to do anymore.

"Then we can bathe," your husband agrees easily, brushing past you to draw the water in the porcelain tub.

Your gaze snaps to him, but he doesn't look back as he kneels over the golden knobs, testing the temperature of the water. "We," You question, voice half pitching as you step towards the bath.

"We," he echos, "there's nothing to be ashamed of, darling. I've washed your body many times."

You make a noise of protest, "I'm not ashamed."

He shoots you a wiry grin and offers you his hand, "I know, treasure. I would have done something if you were."

It's a habit you didn't realize that was still ingrained in you, when you move to take his hand. He pulls your hand to his lips, and kisses every knuckle. You don't even try to hide the way your gaze rakes over him knelt before you.

He watches you carefully, fingers expertly undoing the laces of your clothes, hands slowly, but devotedly guiding you out of the fabric covering your skin. His eyes scour every inch of you, and you're quick to pull away to step into the tub.

You pretend not to notice the way he exhales softly at the distance between you. You close your eyes and melt into the warm water as he stands, shedding his own clothes. You listen as buckles clank and heavy leathers and metal drop to the floor.

"Love," he breathes out, half asking permission to join you, half giving you time to sort out your thoughts. When you don't acknowledge him, don't tell him to join you or to leave, he tentatively sinks into the water across from you, sending ripples through the tub. He sighs, and you imagine he's just as relieved as you are to soak your sore muscles after a day of riding.

You shift, tucking your knees to your chest. The tub isn't small, but it's hardly designed for two people. His legs brush against yours, even as he tries to keep his distance.

Words unsaid dance behind your lips. Arguments you want to make. Accuse him of only ever taking from you. But you can't find the fire to fight him when his steady presence is actually soothing. His soft breathing fills your ears, and you find yourself opening your eyes to study him.

Jason's already memorizing your features when your gaze settles on him. He's relaxed, leaning against the back of the tub like he doesn't have a single stress in his life.

Maybe he doesn't, not when you're inches away from him and bare. The candlelight and clear water don't do much to hide you from his sight.

You find that incredibly unfair. He should be nervous. He should be as uncertain as you are about all this. But he appears so confident, so in control, you wonder if this was his plan all along.

Your train of thought vanishes when he reaches out to run a line over your shoulder with his fingers. The shape inhale you take has him snapping away immediately.

"I'm sorry, treasure," he murmurs, remorse clear in his tone, "I didn't mean to startle you. I've always found my self-control limited in your presence."

"I suppose that's familiar," You say idly, thoughtlessly rubbing the skin where the feeling of his touch still lingers.

"Aye, I've never been skilled at containing my affection for you," he says, almost regretfully, "Yet it only ever serves to drive you away."

"That's not why–" You start, but your words fail.

His gaze sharpness, and suddenly he feels so big sitting across from you, all encompassing with an aura that demands answers from you.

"Then why," he says your name, and it almost makes you flinch to hear it said so starkly. To hear it instead of one of his many terms of endearments for you, "Why do my actions only ever seem to chase you from me?"

His words seem angry, the tension in his body making him rigid and threatening. But you know your husband well enough to recognize the vulnerability in his eyes, to catch the way his voice breaks and falters.

Longing wells in your throat. You miss him. You miss when your marriage was young and new and you knew he loved you just as much as he knew you loved him. You miss when everything didn't feel so broken.

It's cruel, for both of you, what you do next. But you want so badly to pretend. To act as if nothing has changed. To find security in him. You hope beyond the words you have to express that he understands, that he wants that too.

It's callous, to both of you, when you surge forward to kiss him. Jason reacts like he expected it, it almost makes you angry.

He catches you, greedy and eager and desperate, by the waist. He drags you onto his lap, nipping your bottom lip and kissing you like the entire world depends on it, his entire world depends on it.

Nothing matters past his touch. It's better than all the finest wines, the way his touches distracts you from every thought in your head. It's better than all the coin you could carry, when his hand doesn't hesitate to find your chest.

You press closer to him, straddling his hips as water sloshes against the sides of the tub. Wantwantwant clouds your mind of everything else. You want this. Want him. Want a moment that feels right.

You whine when his lips leave yours, and he trails feverish kisses down your throat and to your collarbone. He nips at your skin, eager to leave evidence of his presence behind.

Jason's calloused fingers twist and pinch at your nipple, and it's sinful that he remembers the exact way your body reacts to him. Neither of you speak, too afraid to break whatever this is becoming.

But when you roll your hips, grind down onto his growing erection with a single-minded purpose, he groans, low and husky and needy. He grinds up into you, a silent plea for more, for you not to stop, for you to never stop.

His fingers leave your chest to trail down your stomach, searching and refamiliarizing himself with the feel of your skin. He sucks at your pulse in the same moment his fingers part you folds, expertly finding your clit to draw steady circles.

Your head falls back as you moan, tangling your fingers into his hair for something to ground yourself to, for something to pull when he starts increasing pressure. He grins as you expose more of your neck and his fingers move faster between your thighs with all the skill and experience he has with knowing your body.

He drinks down every expression you make with a drive to see more, and presses a finger to your entrance slowly, carefully testing your reaction. You yank him back into another bruising kiss in return.

He whines into the kiss, and sinks a finger into your wet, aching cunt. He starts a slow rhythm, and it makes your heart stutter at how gentle he is, how loving.

It's not what you want right now. You don't want soft or nice. You want him to fuck every confusing thought from your head until all that matters is how he full he can stuff you with his cock.

Jason seems more preoccupied on curling his finger against the spot that will make you buck into his hand, on nipping the skin over your pulse. You mewl and grab his wrist, pulling him away from your dripping pussy.

He falters, pulling back to look at you with worry, "Treasure," he starts, and you cut him off with another ravenous kiss. You don't want him to talk, you just want to feel him.

Even if it's wrong, even if it'll only hurt you both when the morning comes, none of that matters when you guide his cock to your waiting cunt. You kiss him harder, swallowing any questions he tries to ask.

His fingers dig into your thighs when you finally sink down onto his stiff cock. It's tricky, to maneuver yourself in the tub, but it's worth all the effort when he lets out a near pathetic whine against your mouth, near shaking in the effort to not jerk up into you.

It's a stretch to take him, more so than you remember, but it's so undeniably good to have him fill you inch by seering inch. He lets out a guttural groan as your walls flutter around him, the sound makes you feel greedy.

You pull back from the kiss to watch his eyes flutter shut, to watch him desperately try to contain himself. "Treasure," he breathes out, voice thick with reverence and desire.

You can't bring yourself to care what he's going to say, not when you're adjusting to the way his dick spreads you wide, not when you're still sinking down into his lap so he can press deeper inside you.

"Taking me so well," he murmurs, "So perfect. Look at you. Never letting you go." He's rambling, praises spilling unchecked from his lips.

You chalk it up to the way you've managed to take him to the base of cock. He ducks his head to shower your neck and shoulders with kisses and bites when you do.

You exhale softly, unmoving as you sit in his lap. Maybe you don't need him to fuck you. Maybe just sitting with him stuffed completely inside you while the water cools against your skin is enough.

That thought is quickly overturned when your husband lifts you by your thighs, and carefully guides you back down in a slow, steady rhythm. It makes your breath hitch and your body sing.

How could you have forgotten how easily he can manhandle you? How could you forget how good it feels when he's seeking your pleasure?

His grip tightens when moans start to fall off your tongue in louder, more desperate cries. His breathing grows ragged as he moves you faster, his hips starting to meet yours in urgent thrusts.

Water splashes out of the tub, but you hardly notice it when Jason babbles into your skin, "Everything, you're everything. Been so lost without you. Feels so good. Need you. Need you so much."

You rock along his length, hands braced against him and hiding your face in the crook of his neck. Even when your body starts to feel like it's floating and your head starts to spin, you find it incredibly unfair he seems so in control of the situation you initiated.

The thought makes you bite down into his throat. Bite down hard.

He jolts and curses, burying himself deep inside you as he cums, unloading his spend into your walls. It makes you gasp, makes you find your own climax and clamp down around him as he repeats your name over and over.

He fucks you through both of your releases, or maybe you're still riding him through it. It's difficult to tell when your vision is obscured by stars and your mouth is open in a soundless cry.

What you do know is that he finished inside you and doesn't seem to have any intention of moving as his hips slow to a languid roll. You wrap your arms around him and try to not shake, head empty and nearly drooling as you rest your head against his shoulder.

Jason presses kiss after kiss to every inch of you he can reach without removing his hands from your skin. It's nice. Really nice. It almost reminds you of your wedding night. You fidget mindlessly with the ends of his hair.

You think you could have stayed like this forever, close to him, wrapped around his half-hard cock. But the moment has to end. You have to end it, lest you lead him on more than you already have, "Waters getting cold," You mumble and slowly pull your boneless body off of him.

He looks reluctant to have you go, and keeps his hands firmly on your hips, "I had hardly noticed, my love. But if you're cold..." He smiles at the squeak you make as he lifts you out of the tub with him.

"Jason," You start when he doesn't set you on your feet right away. He hums in acknowledgment, grabbing a towel for each of you all without ever putting you down.

"Jason," You protest again and he relents, gently putting you down onto the plush carpet by the bed. You don't see the need to cover yourself in the moment, as you dry off your tired body, but the way his gaze devours your movements makes you wonder if you should.

He steps closer to you and you freeze. Suddenly this feels dangerous. Not that you're in danger. But that he's going to say something. Do something. Expect something you don't know how to give.

His fingers brush over your jaw and guide your face up. You meet his eyes with a confidence you don't feel.

He stares at you. You don't know what he's searching for, but you think he finds it when he dips down to kiss you, soft and slow and so sweet it nearly makes your knees buckle.

He walks you backwards till the back of your legs hit the bed frame.

He keeps kissing you as he guides you to lay down in the bed, your body landing on his discarded crimson coat. He kisses his way down your jaw, down your throat, down chest, down your stomach, mapping your skin with his fingers and tongue.

He lifts your legs to rest on his shoulders. His eyes never leave yours as he presses kisses to the inside of your thighs, and works his way to your center.

You realize he's still looking for something, as his gaze stays fixed on yours. You'll forget to ask exactly what when he licks a stripe from your twitching hole to your clit.

Part Six

[peppermintquartz]

The views in Sydney would be great if it would just stop fucking raining.

Seriously annoyed, Rocker strides back to the lobby. He nods at a handful of Aussie cops from the Tactical Operations Unit (TOU) that led the seminar today and spies Deacon scrolling through his phone.

"Deac, hey. It's still pissing out there and I'm already starving," Rocker tells him.

Deacon sighs. "Room service?"

"Can we charge it to LAPD?"

"They already cut costs with us sharing a hotel room," Deacon says, smiling, "so they better cough up the money for a proper meal."

There are other officers from the States, but Rocker isn't all that into socializing at the moment. He is still jetlagged to hell after four days of workshops, presentations and demonstrations. Tomorrow is the last day, full of speeches and thank yous, and Rocker is bored just thinking about it.

At least it's Deacon out here with him. Hondo can be preachy and that gets on Rocker's nerves, while Luca is a horrible person to share a room with. Tan, Rocker's first choice, is currently preparing to take the sergeant's exam.

And back home, what does Rocker have to look forward to outside of work? His apartment, his painting, and his Russian literature. God, life as a divorced man is depressing.

Deacon is someone Rocker wants to become: steady, calming, assured. Sure he has his flaws, but Deacon doesn't try to talk down to Rocker even if he has every right to do so.

Besides, Rocker knows that he's 50-David only because Deacon dropped out of consideration, and ever since then, Rocker has actively sought out Deacon's advice whenever he can. It's created a strong bond between them, the two former 2ICs to a couple of SWAT legends. He doesn't like having to follow Hondo's orders sometimes, but Deacon? He'll follow Deacon right into hell if Deacon asks him to.

Rocker doesn't want to think about what that says about him.

---

They had dinner at the tiny table in the room, and then they open up the bottle of wine they were given by one of the sergeants here as a welcome gift.

"I'm just saying, if they make me ride that horse again..." Rocker says, about three-quarters through the bottle, while Deacon laughs at the memory of the Mounted Police picking Rocker to try a couple of horseback riding maneuvers. Despite Rocker's best attempts, the horse just did not have any respect for him.

"Oh, you didn't have any dreams of being a cowboy?" Deacon teases.

Rocker scrunches his nose. "I'm a city boy through and through. Sure, kid me wanted to ride a bucking bronco, but I'm not four years old anymore."

The image of Rocker riding one of those mechanical bulls flashes into Deacon's mind. And he keeps his mind there for a moment.

"You'll look good doing it," he says at last.

"That's because I make everything look pretty," Rocker says, grinning, his cheeks pink from the wine. Deacon can't disagree; Rocker is stupidly attractive with his dark brown curls and strong features and that buff body. Unaware of Deacon's train of thought, Rocker sighs. "I like getting out of LA for these sort of trips, but the jetlag sucks."

Deacon agrees. "I'd like it more if we could go around the city or maybe venture out further. Seems such a waste being stuck indoors." He thinks about it. "No, I take that back. Running around the city means I'm actually on a case."

"Ha, I heard about Thailand. You guys have the worst luck."

"It's all Hondo, I swear."

Rocker raises an eyebrow. "But you're loyal to him."

"I'm loyal to my team," Deacon corrects. "No matter who leads it."

"Even if it's me?"

Deacon narrows his eyes. "Are you trying to poach me over to 50-squad?"

"Stevens would kill me if I swapped him out for you," Rocker says, and then he sighs. "I like working with you though. You're so... graceful. Contained."

"You're not too bad yourself," says Deacon. He reaches over and squeezes Rocker's biceps. "I mean, all that beef on you. And you're very easy on the eyes. Plus, don't tell anyone I said so, but I like when you smile so wide your whole face scrunches up."

"Really?" Rocker asks, smiling in that exact way now, as if he's been given a gift he wanted all year.

Deacon doesn't remove his hand. He likes the way his tanned skin contrasts against Rocker's paler complexion. As if looking through a screen, he sees his thumb rubbing over the patch of skin, and Rocker's muscle jumps under the caress.

"Deac?"

"Sorry," he murmurs, about to draw back his hand when he looks at Rocker again. And he stops moving. Stops breathing.

The downpour outside becomes louder. The heavens seem to want to drown out everything other than this room, render the passage of time meaningless.

Rocker swallows and licks his lips. Deacon's gaze snaps to the tip of the pink tongue peeking out, and everything in him screams for him to taste it.

The next thing he knows, he's got one hand in the back of Rocker's head, his fingers digging into short hair, and his mouth is locked over the other man's lips.

Rocker doesn't even resist, tilting his head as his thick arms go around Deacon's waist and back. He actually whines when Deacon pulls away briefly, but Deacon doesn't leave him for long; he straddles the younger man and resumes the kiss, one hand tangled into the short, damp curls of Rocker's hair and the other cradling his lightly-stubbled jaw. When he settles his weight on Rocker's lap, he encounters a heated hardness.

Gasping, Deacon pulls back from the kiss. What am I doing?

Below him, Rocker's blue eyes are blown dark, his fair cheeks pink and rosy, and his lips swollen and wet. He blinks up at Deacon, a soft, inquiring sound emerging from his throat. His hands - massive hands, always so sure and confident - tremble where they're placed on Deacon's body. He licks his lips again.

Deacon's pulse races in his chest while his own cock thickens with desire. He's done this. He's done this to Rocker, who's always, always confident. As if to test his theory, Deacon rocks his hips a little, and Rocker moans, lips parting, his broad chest heaving.

"Please," Rocker whispers, his voice so quiet and broken that Deacon can't tell if Rocker meant to say it at all.

He pulls off his own shirt and then removes Rocker's. A dull pink flush spreads over Rocker's chest. Deacon rubs his thumbs over the erect nipples, making Rocker whimper and rock up. The sensation causes every single nerve in Deacon's body to feel like he's been shocked with electricity.

He wants more of it.

"Just this once," he finds himself saying. "Just once."

"Okay," Rocker agrees too readily, and pulls Deacon close.

[hainethehero]

HEADCANNON: MARVEL VILLAINS FOAMING AT THE MOUTH FOR CAPTAIN AMERICA...

The Avengers visit The Raft to question any of the numerous villains about their evil plans for World Domination™️...

"Where's the pretty one? I'll only talk to the pretty one."

Tony, Thor, Bruce, Clint and Steve all look at Nat, who wrinkles her nose and raises a questioning brow. But then the villain cackles and shakes his head.

"Nah, I mean the pretty blonde with the puppy eyes, big tits and the gorgeous ass."

And they're all like, "oh... ohhhh" and look to Steve, who blushes and looks away shyly. Call him a prude, but, by his estimation, he'd just only thought fondue was a euphemism for sex.

And it doesn't stop there!

The villain goes into every vulgar detail about what he'd like to do to Steve and exactly how he'd do it. He talks about how he'd pull his hair, bite his neck, suck on his tits, leave his lips bruised.

Saying lewd things like:

"You'd look so fuckin pretty riding my cock, princess." and "God, I'd love to put you on your hands and knees. I'd rail you so good sweetheart."

All the while the other Avengers look on with various expressions of concern and confusion- well, Tony just looks sort of intrigued, but that's besides the point. Steve's face is aflame, eyes looking everywhere but at his teammates.

Then Clint speaks up and warns, "Yeah, might wanna hold your horses on this one, dude. Unless you want the Winter Soldier on your ass."

And the villain just looks even more interested and says excitedly, "I love a challenge. I'd go to war for that ass."

Natasha shrugs, "More like a suicide mission."

And Tony says, "Yeah buddy, you don't touch Rogers while Bucky Barnes is still breathing."

Then Steve sputters because um, no, the Winter Soldier does NOT like him like that. He'd barely said more than ten words to Steve despite them always being paired up for SHIELD missions! Barnes always acted all stoic and annoyed whenever Steve spoke to him. And he always acted all pissy and disgusted whenever Steve was instructed to join his operations, even though Steve would be under his command!

Like, there was no winning with Barnes so why the hell did everyone on his team think Barnes would be pissed right now?!

But then the villain pipes up, "Whatever you say. I'm willing to negotiate with Malibu Barbie. Get me in a room with him and I'll tell you everything you need to know."

And Natasha goes, "Wow, not even negotiating for a lesser sentence? Just one-on-one time with Rogers?"

The villain says, "Oh, I can always hatch a plan of escape some other time. But this? Oh, I'm gonna be the envy of all the other baddies out there."

And the Avengers all frown because what?

"What d'you mean by that?" Thor questions to which the villain says, "Wow, for the world's heroes you guys really are out of the loop."

And after leering at Steve again, he explains, "Evil plans for world domination aside, a lot of us have our likes and dislikes, our vices and poisons. The truth? Everyone's just foaming at the mouth to get their hands on this one."

[shanastoryteller]

Happy pride!!

Fem MXY WWX pls!!!

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41

They're back to riding, only a couple hours away from Jin Tower, and Wei Wuxian is happy to be off his feet, but he can't even focus on that.

He's too busy feeling desperately sad for Mo Xuanyu.

She lived as a pauper in a family that despised her, had a father that ignored her, was so lonely that she named her sword Friend, and killed herself rather than marry Lan Zhan.

Lan Zhan would have been nice to her. It took him a while to warm up, but he's trying now, to do his duty as a proper husband. Which is inconvenient for Wei Wuxian, but probably would have meant the world to Mo Xuanyu.

She didn't have to die. If she'd been able to hold onto hope for just a few more days, instead of giving in to revenge and despair, then she could have lived out her life out from underneath the thumb of other people.

"Are you okay?"

He startles out of his thoughts, looking up to see Sizhui has pulled his mare up beside his and is peering at him in concern.

He forces a smile, because he's put Sizhui through enough today, and he's a good boy that doesn't deserve to be involved in any of this. The worst part about dying again is going to be leaving behind Sizhui. He's such a sweet boy who loves him so easily and he just knows that it's going to break his heart when either the cultivation or the curse mark has run its course. "I'm fine, I'm fine. Just thinking."

Sizhui looks unconvinced, but nods before looking up towards the front of the procession, where Lan Xichen and Lan Zhan are talking about something while Jin Guangyao pretends to be interested. He reaches into his sleeve. "I found some of these in town when I went looking for you."

He pulls out a small bag of the sweet, spicy pepper candy that Wei Wuxian likes so much and hold it out.

"You're the best!" he says, taking the bag and also pausing to squeeze his arm in thanks, only not pulling him into a hug because he's not sure how tolerant the horses will be about it.

The food in Cloud Recesses is ass and he can't cover everything with chilli oil because the only person he'd met who liked food as spicy as he did was - well, no one. So having Mo Xuanyu like spicy food had seemed like edging a little too close to obvious.

He'd been so happy when Sizhui had brought pepper candy back for him for the first time and had sworn him to secrecy to how how much he loved them.

Wei Wuxian pops one of the candies in his mouth, sucking on it to more quickly get to the firey pops of pepper, which is his favorite.

There's about five seconds of deliciousness and then his stomach rolls with nausea. He tightens his grip, trying to ride it out, but the taste of the candy he loved turns sour and he's seriously worried he's going to hurl, which Lan Zhan would never let him hear the end of.

He spits the candy out onto the ground, rubbing at his mouth.

"Lady Xuanyu?" Sizhui asks startled. "Is - sorry, did I get the wrong one?"

"No, no, it's perfect," he assures, internally sighing in relief as his stomach starts to settle. "I guess I shouldn't eat them on an empty stomach! It ruins the flavor. Who knew?"

He's eaten them on an empty stomach a dozen times before and never had an issue.

"Okay," Sizhui says slowly. 'Are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm perfectly fine, Sizhui, don't worry," he says, and means it, even though he sort of wants to cry.

The pepper candies were one of the only things he could get his hands on that he enjoyed eating, and now even that's gone?

At least the Jin go all out on the banquets.

[otomiyaa]

Wanderer x Ticklish Male!Reader

Romantic + 16. “I was trying to sleep!” Requested by @blobbirobbi for my 1K Followers Event🌻

So sweet and peaceful. It was only because you knew exactly where to spot your boyfriend that you managed to find him. Anyone else would just walk right past him.

There, up in the tree, you could see his hat sticking out just slightly, and a part of his foot as well, with his leg swinging back and forth. He was napping again!

Instead of climbing all the way up there to wake him, you used your anemo powers of your own to create a little ball of wind and air.

"Hehe," you giggled playfully. The ball of air twirled in your hand, and you used it to suck in some of the mess from the ground; such as acorns, leaves, sand, until you had a nice little dirty bullet to aim of a decent size.

"And, fire!" you chirped, sending it all the way up in a perfectly well-aimed curve ball. It disappeared out of sight, but you knew from the adorable sound that it hit him right in the face.

"URGh!" you could hear him yelp, and you grabbed your stomach and laughed.

"I was trying to sleep!" he yelled. Your boyfriend Scaramouche's angry face appeared up in the tree as he glared down at you, and you giggled to see his annoyed expression - in bad quality because he was up so high you could barely see him.

"I know! Which is why I did it! Come down, let's spar! It's too early to sleep," you told him.

"You think that's funny hmm?" he asked. You nodded.

"Yeah!" It was a surprising sight to see him get out of the tree, and he came levitating down, approaching you slowly but steadily. Oh. As he came closer and closer, you noted the vengeful look on his face.

"I repeat, you think its funny to wake me?" He definitely seemed more awake now.

"Uh yeah?" you said nervously, but you already started to walk. Like, walk fast.

"Oh you'll regret that boy," Scara said, and well yes, you started to run. And he flew even faster!

"Nohoo stay away! Don't you dare!" you warned, looking over your shoulder to see him chase after you.

"What, you woke me up to spar didn't you? Let's spar."

Eeeeep! He already held out his fingers and wiggled them at you.

"NO! I knohohow what you're gohohonna do- eeehehe!" you giggled nervously.

"Really? Do tell!" Good thing was that Scara was no longer tempted to have that boring afternoon nap again. Bad thing was that you were about to die laughing.

... was that a bad thing though?

"EEK!" you shrieked as you tripped over your feet. You fell down, and your fast and nimble boyfriend landed right on top of you. Sitting on you as if he was going to ride a horse, he kept you pinned down firmly. He dug his knees against you, both for more control and balance, and he tapped his fingers lightly against your sides.

"Gotcha. Any last words?" You could feel his fingers glide under your shirt and brush lightly against your bare sides. Oh god oh god you were in for it. You shook your head nervously and already giggled like a madman.

"Brihihing ihihit!" you laughed defiantly. You could hear him chuckle fondly.

"Alright then."

It wasn't the first time he tickled you. He tickled you many many times, and you were always pleased to return the favor. However in this position, face-down with him straddling you from behind, it looked like you weren't going anywhere and that tickling him back was only a distant dream, and not your reality.

"AAAHahaha! Nohoho dohohon't!" you squealed. You could feel him carefully push up your clothes further, his fingers digging eagerly into your sides, tummy and ribs as they climbed up.

He claimed all of your ticklish torso as his own territory and tickled you anywhere he could reach. Which was quite a lot, even in this position.

"That's for waking me," he said. You banged your fist against the groud and cackled shamefully.

"You weheheren't s-supposed to slahaha-sleep in the fihihirst plahahace!" you managed to say with difficulty. Your laughter really was all over the place, and so were your boyfriend's fingers.

"Really? Just because you're my boyfriend, you think you can determine my sleeping schedule? Well, happy to hear you love me that much. In that case, I'll determine when you're gonna laugh. How does that sound?"

It sounded crazy. Just because it was a lame thing to say, and also, you were already laughing!

You flailed your arms and managed to grab a handful of leaves from the forest floor. You threw it backwards and used some anemo strength for extra power. You knew it hit him in the face from the cute little growl he let out.

"You'll regret that!" he hissed, and you squeaked when he flipped you over on your back. With one hand he caught both your hands and pinned them above your head. With his free hand he tickled your armpits and ribs until you were screaming bloody murder.

"AHAHAAH! OKAha-okahahhaay I'm sohohorry! Wahahaha!"

He wasn't just giving you a random punishment. You could see from the smile on his face that he was really enjoying himself here.

"Sorry, what did you say?" he asked with a playful grin. He was even daydreaming! In the middle of his tickle attack on you!

"I'm sohohorry sweetieehehheheh! Ahhaha not thehehere!" you cackled when he tickled your underarm mercilessly. There was nothing you could do. The tickling took all of your strength, and that cute smile of his wasn't much help either.

"Promise you won't wake me up again?"

Well that was a hard one. "I cahahan't!" you laughed in all honesty. Scara seemed impressed by your truthful answer.

"Hmm okay. Do you accept then, that the next time you disturb my nap, I will tickle you twice as much?"

Gladly. "Suhuhure! Wahahahah- nohohow lehehet me breheheathe!"

At last his speedy fingers came to a stop, and you gasped for air. Scaramouche smiled gently and cupped your cheek.

"Good. Then for now, I forgive you." He gave you the sweetest kiss, and you closed your eyes and relaxed underneath him. Ah, he was the most dramatic and merciless boyfriend ever. But he was your boyfriend, and you loved him, no matter what silly things he would do.

"Well, now that we did that. I should go back to sleep." To your horror he suddenly flew back into the air, up into the trees again.

"Hey! Where are you going- don't you dare!" You ran after him and could swear you saw a playful smile on his face right before he disappeared between the leaves. Oh that little...

Well, if he was trying to tease and provoke you.... You rolled up your sleeves and wiggled your fingers. Maybe you should see how those rusty tickle skills of your own were doing then!

[moneymartin]

cowgirl shauna hcs? :0 maybe transmasc cowboy reader 🫣

🐶 - cowgirl!shauna hcs

warnings: smut underneath the other divider and suggestive content above it :3 meant for tmasc!r but half can be seen as gn.

a/n: sorry yall i rlly thought the fic was gonna come out today but i have to start packing up for sequoia earlier than i was supposed to ?? anyways go easy on me w this one lol first shauna thing

taglist: @deerlottie @ultrone

she is the towns sweetheart for sureeee!!!!

it’s the charm… i mean the southern accent.

she’s always seen lassoing the cows on her farm or doing some stuff with the tractor for the crops

def has a goat somewhere on that farm

named buttercup.

her horse’s name is dolly or something stupid like sweetie pie

has one of the rlly cute horses though so

one like this

she’s always in the saloons fosho

that’s where you met her ackshually

other than the fact that she sees you riding around on your horse in the desert w a revolver in your pocket to look cool 😭

she thinks you’re really freakin handsome like she cannot stop thinking about you

after a break up or something with your gf she ends up finding you at the saloons all mopey and you drowning yourself in crappy beer

you were probably all rustled up

i mean crying

she’s swooning you over tho INSTANTLY!!! the accent is everything to you

she ended up sitting next to you and asked you if you were okay like she was supes careful about your feelings 🥲

but you’re so drunk you can’t even understand 💀💀💀

so she takes you to some mountain where you can get a nice breather afterwards:(

you’d end up kissing her accidentally i fink… she’s mid sentence and you do it unconsciously

shauna isn’t shocked but she’s more so into it

she’s running her hands through your hair and feeling underneath your shirt for some chest hair:3

definitely runs her fingers over your top surgery scars 🥹 saying you’re handsome over and over again like ughhh

you’re the outlaw of the town though like your face is plastered all over the place with wanted posters

but she still LIKES YOU!!!

i strictly believe that she’d have a strawberry farm and that she’d come over to the saloons to find you and give you a fresh basket of them every week

she bakes with them too me thinks

chocolate covered strawbs are her specialty

and you’re the taste tester 🤞

you’d come over to her place with your horse lookin all hot or wtv but when you see her you get all soft and stuff

which is different since everyone thinks you’re super scary cs you’re literally a criminal 😭

hugging and kissing shauna while picking her up is your guys’ thang

i’m imagining there being another guy fighting over her and she’s making you two fight for her physically …

if he won she’d still pick you ☺️

if you’re a first timer she’s a TOTAL angel

telling you what to do and everything she’s amazing

if you hurt her i think she’d make you stop for a little before going again but she doesn’t get upset because she knows you’re unexperienced 🥲

okay but when it comes to her doing smth to you…

MERCILESS

she’s sucking you off at the same time while fingering you like holy shiet

if you guys were alone she’d sit on you for a while while playing w your hair

before she starts grinding on you…

GIVING YOU ALL THOSE SOUTHERNY NICKNAMES TOO DURING IT

“darlin’” “sugar” “cutie pie” “lovebug”

those are so cute fr tho

praises you too

takes you to the mountains where you accidentally kissed her that one time to hookup every now and then

makes you wear your cowboy hat while she rides your strap

save a horse ride a cowboy type shi

OMAGAH WOW

“easy now, cowboy” when you’re fucking her without her doing everything for the first time

def your favorite line

she prefers when you’re still all cowboyish thats why she wants the hat on at ALL times

WHEEWWW i need her .

IM DONE THANK YOU

[ryuzakemo128]

A letter for you

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x you, female reader

Content Warning: SA mentioned. Implied verbal abuse. Manipulation. The whole nine yards of deep and dark. Toxic parents.

Words: 623

Masterlist

Divider Credit: @cafekitsune

Note: Sequel to the headcanons.

You had to do it, didn’t you? You just had to do this shit to me. Even though you were having a taste of your own medicine. You had to make yourself into a martyred victim of some kind. Don’t try to deny it. I know for a fact you’re sitting there, reading this letter with a cocky smirk or grin, thinking, ‘I have him where I want him.’ No you don’t. You will get nothing from me.

Ever.

I heard you were running your mouth again. Saying shit about me behind my back. You wanted a reaction so badly to make yourself into an angel from the soul of an endless devil, I won’t fall to my knees and beg for you to come back. Crafting an angel from your bones when we all know you’re unfit to become one of your own accord.

I have grown since I left you. I have grown since I told you to leave my fucking apartment. Don’t lie about shit when you can’t help but suck cock while I’m gone. Don’t spin the truth like the records you trashed one afternoon, lying about it being a mistake.

You made vile comments about my past as a sexual assault victim. You made me hate myself more than I ever did. Fuck you and the horse you ride on. Or in your case cock.

Not only that, but you lied when you said you stopped seeing him.

Not only that, but you are a natural-born snake. A liar. A thief. I only just managed to steal back my heart you took from me when we first met.

I haven’t decided whether I want to forgive you. Maybe I’ll decide that forgiving you isn’t worth it. Maybe I shouldn’t forgive you anyway. Forgiveness is too good for you. You didn’t work to earn it. You didn’t bleed for it. Furthermore, you didn't sweat hard for it. You did nothing to get the right to be given it. I don’t want to hear more excuses, and for once in your life fix your god-damn plumbing issue with your shitty second toilet.

Come find me when you’re done fucking up the people around you. Come see me when you want to learn to grow the fuck-up and deal with the real world. As I have. As the rest of people down here. Until then, stay the fuck away from me.

Until you realise you are the cause of your own mistakes. I can’t take you back. I can’t risk my heart getting torn to pieces. My patience with you has officially ended, and my claws are about to come out. You have fucked with the wrong person. Don’t mistake this letter for a last kiss or last hurrah. I don’t have time to fucking deal with your mistakes. Fix them yourself, you petulant fucking child.

Go to therapy.

Make better life choices.

Actually, live a life instead of coasting along with whoever’s dick is inside of you right now. It won’t fix your so called ‘personality’. People will eventually get tired of your shit and leave you behind.

Fix your fucking front door lock. It’s loose and someone could easily break in to steal your shit. Fix it.

Instead of blaming your exes for leaving you. Question as to why they left you to begin with. Have some self-respect, woman, and look inward instead of outward.

Cut off your toxic parents. They don’t actually care about you, they just want to lord over you and insult your choices. Cut them out. Go no contact with them. Block their numbers, block them on social media. You don’t need them in the same way they need you. Cut off your toxic parents.

What we deserve and what we get are two different things.

Yours, in annoyed yet carefree, pleasant solitude, Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

[shrimshrim4fun]

Smile for the camera, dear director~

Background- As we know and love, Deren… she’s a virgin. A pathetic one to say the least. So I present to you…. Showing Deren how to eat you out and fucking you.

Warnings: You probably ain’t gonna read this cause yall Deren fans will will proabably just scroll off but for the others- incudes crying, filming while you fuck ( forgot what it’s called), pet names, and other stuff that I’m gonna forget to add but it’s just gonna be smut in general. Men please don’t interact or anyone that not comfortable :)

Background: Deren as an Alpha sounds a bit weird to be but here’s what I think. Though as an alpha she never fucked an omega before. When her rut comes she hides in her room and just waits for it to end. But after meeting you as her new to behold girlfriend some things changed. It’s not really an alpha x omega dynamic as much but I tried my best. Never wrote shit like this before. Um she does have a dick :)

Deren whines as she rests between you. Your legs around her waist as you both lay on the bed. “Something wrong, dearie” You ask, amused due to you knowing her rut is coming. You have been keeping count of when her rut was due so you knew this was the perfect moment for you to strike. “N-nothing” she mutters softly as she clutches onto the back of your shirt tightly. “Oh are you sure now, you don’t seem ok” you tease as she lets out a small whine. You feel her erection rise up as she lays between your legs. “Oh do you need some help, dearie” you ask as you lift your hips a little so it bumps slightly into you through your clothed pussy. Deren tries to hold in a whine before whimpering “P-please I need it I-i need you” A smirk crosses your lips as you ask “ Then let’s not keep you waiting any longer” you hum before slipping off your shirt. Deren sits up now, though still between your legs seeming like an… eager puppy waiting for its treat. Clipping off your bra and throwing it aside you ask with an amused tone “Like what you, puppy?” She nods eagerly as she looks at you. Though you kept on your panties as you commanded the director to take off her clothes.

“Let’s see how inexperienced you are, eh” you tell her as you pat your leg. “H-huh?” A small yet simple sound that made you giggle. “Come on get on my thigh” you tell her with a small smile. “Oh um yeah” she mumbles as she straddles your thigh. “Ride” you tell her as she blinked at you. You sigh before explaining “Move your hips against my leg, like how cowboys ride horses in movies” She nods and finally understands something as her mind clouds up. Tears still pricking her eyes as she tries to ride your thigh. You giggle at the sight before thinking of something. Deren notices your attention not ok her has a little frown on her face though she still tries to ride your thigh. Her hands grip the sheets tighter as you reach and grab a camera from a drawer before telling her “Look at the camera, dearie” you tell her as a smug smile spreads on your face once again. Her eyes stretch in surprise as she sees the camera. “Are you ok with this?” You ask and she nods quickly. A weak smile on her lips before moaning as you move your thigh. Tears stream down her eyes again as she looks breathless; it hasn’t even been 10 minutes yet. “Y-you won’t p-post online r-right” she asks as she tries to get more stimulation from your thigh. “Of course I won’t, this is for my eyes only, pretty girl” Deren nods before continuing to ride your thigh before sucking in a breath. She moans before cum squirts from her dick. Her breath raged as she tries to recover from her orgasm. “On all fours, director” you tell her as you see her eyes widen. Though she obeys your command as tug your underwear off and speeding your legs in front of her. Her eyes widen as she stares at you from between your legs. “This was a very valuable lesson, I already told you about it, yes?” She nods as she stares at your pussy, never have you seen her concentrate on something this hard before. “Let’s see you what learned” you hum as you lean back against the soft pillows. In an instant Deren arches her back and dive into your pussy. Lapping at your inner folds which makes you moan softly. Her warm tongue then lapping at your clit and sucking on it gently. You moan even louder as you felt her tongue plunge inside you. Your other hand tightly gripping onto her hair as you leaned your head back against the head board of the bed.The arch of her back; a perfection as her nails claw at your thighs. The camera having the best view ( your perspective) of how the famous director was acting like such a whore. Sloppily eating you out as saliva dripped from your thighs and from her mouth. “Oh gosh, gotta cum” you breathe out before having your release on her face. She doesn’t waste a drop like the good puppy she is and continues to eat you out. “Puppy” you call up and Deren instantly perks up. A drunk like smile on her face as she looks at the camera. Probably already forgot you were recording tbh. And a little bit of your cum on the tip of her nose as you giggle slightly.

“You’ve been such a good girl, let me give you a reward. Get on your back” you tell her as she immediately gets on her back next to you. You look at her red erection as it came just from eating you out though you didn’t notice when she came. The camera still in your hand as a small smile of your face. She grips the sheets from under her as she grips the sheets. You lower yourself onto her dick in one smooth motion which caused a moan from both of you, though hers way louder than yours. “Ah-ah p-please move your hips” she whimpers pathetically as she looks up at you. You laugh at her eagerness before starting to move your hips. You pussy clench around her cock as you move your hips. She whimpers and cries out as she gripped tighter to the sheets. Tears started to prick at her eyes again as you went faster. “Ah- fuck” she whines before coming. Filling you up as you were all the way down her dick. She pants before realizing what she did. “I-I’m sor-” “Don’t worry I’m on the pill” you tell her with a warm smile before starting to ride her again. “Augh!” She moans at your sudden movement.

You don’t know how long it’s been since you’ve been riding Deren. Tears staining the pillows she was laying on as she came for the 6th time. I sigh before slipping off of her. Cum striping out of your pussy as she whimpers slightly from the loss of the warm sensation around her dick. You lay next to her, both breathless as she already looks knocked out by you. “How was it?” You ask. “Too good I can’t even describe in my scripts” she mumbles as she hugs you closely. You chuckle as you place the camera aside and whisper into her ear “You did so well for me on the camera, dear director.” You laugh at her reaction before running your hand through her hair.

Y’all this isn’t proof read but I hope you enjoy it. I hope the Deren fans don’t just bomb me the next day I wake up but oh well. I hope it’s good proabably never doing alpha x omega it’s too confusing 😓 I hope she’s in character but like yeah that’s it from me. Hope I cooked and y’all are well fed :3

[the-fab-fox]

I come bearing a request! If it doesn't make you uncomfortable — ignore this if it does — could you please write platonic headcanons or a oneshot about the Pomfiore trio helping yuu who's on her (or their) period and has cramps & is just feeling gross?

| Request Fill for Anonymous. To find out how to request your own, check out this post here. |

Absolutely, I can, my friend!

I enjoyed writing this so much. I love seeing these three and Yuu getting on so well in Book 6. It makes my heart so happy to see it.

So naturally, I wanted to include that same vibe with this one.

As a note, since I don't really mention it until further in the oneshot, this takes place during the SEC group preparing for the SDC.

I hope you enjoy, sweet anon! And if you feel up to it, in case you don't want to comment directly on the fill itself, feel free to shoot me a dm if you wanna let me know how you like it.

Thanks again for the adorable request!

—

Platonic F!Reader with Vil, Rook, and Epel.

[Fill under cut due to length.]

—

The Ramshackle Prefect watched the dancers closely. She smiled to herself with a soft chuckle. 

The chuckle quickly became a grimace as, yet again, her uterus decided to give her a swift horse kick back to reality. 

This sucks. I'm grateful that Sam had the things I needed but they don't really have anything like Tylenol or Ibuprofen here. 

Sam had given her a little protip though, before she had left his shop. 

“Talk to Professor Crewel about this.”

She did just that. 

Crewel had told her that he would make a potion which would likely act in the same manner as the medicines from her world but it would take two days. He frowned at her and snapped his riding crop in his hand. 

“In the future, you are to inform me at least four days before your cycle starts so you won't have to wait so long for relief from the cramps. Is that understood?”

She snapped to attention. “Yes, sir!”

Crewel smiled empathetically. “Good girl. You may go but before you do, here—”

He opened one of his desk drawers and pulled out what looked like a Hershey bar. He passed it to her and she took it tentatively. After all, Crewel didn't seem like the type to give gifts or rewards to students. 

“It's chocolate. It won't do as much as the potion will but it is something that is already made so we'll take what we can get, won't we, pup?”

The otherworlder nodded and smiled. “Thank you for helping me with… all of this.” Out of nerves, she waved vaguely at the lower half of her body. “You and Sam have been so helpful and nice about it.”

Crewel nodded. “It's nothing. Especially since I know exactly how you feel.”

She tilted her head and frowned. 

What on earth did that mean? What was he—

Oh!

No way! 

Her eyes widened and she blurted out the question that immediately came to mind before she could stop herself. 

“Professor Crewel, did you just subtly slip in the fact that you're a transman?”

Crewel grinned. “Well spotted, Prefect. I swear, you have more intuition and common sense than most of the students at this school combined.”

She blushed at the compliment. She never had been good at accepting them. Most of the time, they made her uncomfortable. 

Even with how uncomfortable she was, the compliments still pleased her. In her mind, Crewel was one of the best teachers at the school. Even with his weird BDSM vibe he had going on with that ridiculous riding crop. 

Maybe she was being a little unfair. She just hated it when Crewel would appear by her and her friend’s desk and snap that thing. 

It wasn't her fault she was easily jump scared. 

She thanked him instead of commenting on the compliment—what would she even say to that?—and had taken her leave. 

Brought out of the memory but yet another sharp squeezing sensation, the Ramshackle Prefect let out a little whimper. 

Damnit. Why did I eat all that chocolate bar in one sitting? I'm sure Crewel wouldn't mind giving me another, if he even has one. And Sam should have them in stock. I should go after practice and grab one. 

Unfortunately, there was no telling how long practice would be. 

“Mademoiselle Trickster. Forgive me, but tu vas bien? Are you feeling alright?”

She blinked up at Rook. There was that sharp, observant gaze but just behind it, she saw genuine concern. 

She smiled. 

Well, she tried anyway before another cramp hit her. This one was more intense than the last as well. She could also feel the beginnings of a migraine and bemoaned her lack of the potion. 

“Ouch,” she groaned. 

“Rook! Why are you over here? You're supposed to be with the others, practicing.”

Rook didn't look chastised in the least. She had always found that pretty impressive. The fact that Vil could just bark his disappointment and Rook would apologize genuinely but that would be that. 

Unfortunately, she was nothing like Rook. Vil was also unfathomably beautiful, famous, snarky, and direct. Those combinations very often did not suit people like her. She was grateful, however, that Vil seemed to be an exception. 

Yeah, he could be harsh, but only when it was necessarily or well deserved. To her, Vil seemed more like a bossy but supportive big sister. She was just intimidated by the rest of him. 

“Oui,” Rook replied. “I simply came over because I could tell that our dear Trickster here is not feeling well.”

Vil turned those lavender eyes on her and she found she could not look away. His eyes narrowed as he looked her over. 

“What's going on?”

The Ramshackle Prefect surprised herself as she suddenly burst into tears. 

Okay, it wasn't as dramatic as all that, but she did end up crying. 

“Prefect?” 

Vil's tone was still firm but had softened significantly. 

She sighed as she looked at him. “I'm sorry… I… well, I started my period and there's no medications here like back home that can help with it,” she said, her voice sounding whiny to her own ears. God, she hated how whiny her period made her. And how utterly disgusting she felt being a foot from Vil Schoenheit. 

She sucked in a breath, and continued. “Crewel is making a potion for me…he's so nice… he doesn't show it but he is. But he said it's going to take 2 days, maybe 3, before the potion will be ready. But the cramps are so bad and now my head is starting to hurt. It's definitely the beginning of a migraine.”

Vil was suddenly all action so fast that she felt a little lightheaded for a second or two. 

“Rook. Go to Sam’s and get anything you can think of that helps with a period. Then go get one of my silk pajama sets, a pair of my softest slippers, and my facial kit. Bring the lavender scented—no!—bring the ginger infused facial products. And a bit of our peppermint tea.”

Rook snapped to attention. “I won't be but a moment,” he assured them both before leaving quite dramatically. But that was normal for the odd third year. 

Vil looked at her before scanning the others practicing their dance moves into the mirror. 

“Epel!”

The periwinkle-haired first year glanced over in question. 

“Ah—yes, sir?”

“Please come here a moment.”

The Prefect watched as Epel did as ordered, coming to stand before them both. He glanced at her, obvious concern in his eyes now that he could see her up close. 

“Hey, what's wrong?”

She sighed and shook her head, no longer feeling emotional enough to blurt it out. She nodded instead at the silent question in Vil's eyes. 

“The Prefect is on her period. Unfortunately, she didn't think to bring this up with Crewel prior to getting it but it's understandable, considering everything she's gone through since her arrival. I'm assuming this is your first period since coming here?”

She grimaced and nodded. Back home, it wasn't often that she skipped periods. The times she did, however, were usually due to stress and the next one she did get was always worse. That was what was happening here, to the letter. 

She looked at Vil with surprise. It was her understanding that Vil had no siblings. He smiled at her surprise. 

“In my line of work, you get to know a great number of people. Many of them get periods. It's also imperative to familiarize oneself with others’ physiology and not just one's own when making potions.”

The Prefect just nodded her head. It made a lot of sense but she felt too exhausted to do anything more. 

Epel looked at her with sympathy. “What can I do to help?”

Vil smiled. “That's precisely why I called you over. Will you please tell the others that something has come up that couldn't be helped so the rest of practice is canceled.” He paused for a moment, considering the group. “Also inform them that I want them to practice their moves for an hour in front of a mirror tonight. Wait… Spudling 1 and 2 should do 2 hours. Then I'd like you and Grim to ask the chefs if they wouldn't mind making a simple chicken and noodle soup for her. You don't have to answer any questions. If they push, have them come talk to me. That should take care of things nicely.” He tilted his head imperiously. “Did you get all of that, baby spudling?”

He'd do well as an owl, she thought out of nowhere and was grateful that she hadn't voiced the thought aloud. 

“Whatda I lookit to ya—erk—I mean, yes, sir. The rest of practice is canceled, but they are to do 1 hour of practice back home. 2 for Ace and Deuce. Then I'm to go to the kitchens with Grim to get Chicken and Noodle soup for the Prefect.”

“Very good. Go on now.”

Epel hurried off. 

Vil smiled sympathetically at her now. She sighed her feelings on the whole matter. 

“Do not worry, my dear. We'll get you sorted. Tomorrow you will be off duty as well. If you would like, I can inform the Headmage that you will need to be out of classes as well due to being sick.”

Her eyes widened. “Really? You'd do that for me? They'll be okay with that?” 

In her experience, people with periods were generally just expected to get on with life despite the pain and feeling like complete garbage. Pick oneself up by the bootstraps, and all that.

Vil snorted. “They trust me. I've earned their respect and with good reason. They'll accept with no other details aside from being too sick to come.”

She was suddenly filled with the desperate urge to hug him. She was that thankful. Luckily, she was able to hold back. 

Tears began to creep at the corners of her eyes again and it was with a softer voice that she thanked him. 

“Think nothing of it, Prefect. While I am empathetic, especially with things that are unavoidable, I'm also thinking of the group and the SDC. With a period there's no way you wouldn't be distracted and understandably so, therefore it would be a waste of time to make you do your job when you feel as you do.” He smiled apologetically once more with a sigh. “Better to have you miss a couple days and come back to us fresh and rested than to make you suffer and possibly lengthen both the period as well as our training. You're also not one of the performers so it's not absolutely necessary for you to be at every practice. Preferable, definitely, but not necessary.”

She beamed at him. “You're a really good person Vil, I don't care what anybody else says.”

Vil raised a brow. “Oh? Well thank you, but let's not hurry away from the topic. What is it that others are saying?”

A confused expression crossed her face before she realized she'd used a joke phrase from her world. He, obviously, would have no idea what she was talking about. 

“Sorry… that's just a thing we say where I'm from. Basically, you're just saying it as a joke because no one is really, actually saying anything. It's just…” she waved her hand in frustration and sighed. “Is not important.”

“Don't talk like that, Prefect. What we have to say must always be treated as important. Why would we say it if it wasn't important to us? Besides, I understand what was meant from your explanation. I know well that not everyone is able to or even wishes to handle my intensity and dedication to putting forth one's best self at every opportunity.”

It was her turn to smile empathetically. 

“Their loss,” she said, meaning every bit of it. Vil smiled. 

“Thank you kindly, my dear. I don't need the reassurance but I'm happy to know that you think so. Furthermore, I agree completely.”

They both laughed softly and she felt a little better. 

The door opened and the miserable girl noticed the room was empty aside from Vil and herself, as well as Rook who had returned as promised. 

“How is our little Trickster?” He asked as he joined them, quickly pulling a table over before setting all the things he carried upon it. 

The Ramshackle first year rolled her eyes but it was in a fond manner. She had to admit that Rook’s odd tendencies were growing on her a little. He was weird as fuck but he was also a really good guy when it came down to it. 

Neither she nor Vil had a chance to answer as the door opened again. Epel came in, bearing a large bowl with a utensil sticking out. It was still steaming; the gentle clouds billowing behind Epel as he hurried to her as fast as he could without spilling any of it's contents.

The scent of the soup reached her nose not long after that and her stomach growled loudly. The others laughed as she blushed and covered her face with her hands. 

A bowl was now in her peripheral vision and she looked up at Epel with a smile of thanks. He smiled back at her as she took it, breathing in the steam with a happy sigh. 

“Your stomach growling as it did also suggests you have not been keeping hydrated. Be sure you're taking breaks throughout the day to drink plenty of water. Understand?”

The Ramshackle Prefect nodded. 

“Good. Now, the three of us are going to take care of you for a little while. That will relax your body and your nerves. It'll likely alleviate your migraine as well. The cramps should lessen for the evening, at the very least.”

“I took the liberty of getting a heating pad for you—non! I will not accept payment. This is a gift between friends.”

Vil nodded. “Likewise.”

“The same goes for me even though I'm not sure what I can do.”

Vil smiled at him. “I'll show you.”

The girl looked from Vil, to Epel, to Rook. Yet again, overcome with emotion, she felt tears rush to her eyes and she grumbled as she tried to brush them away. 

“Oh, you poor dear,” Vil said. His tone was the softest she ever heard it.

Then he did something that surprised her tears into stopping as if she was some protagonist in a shoujo anime. 

He hugged her, taking care not to spill the bowl still in her hands.

Vil Schoenheit had just hugged her. 

Was she dreaming? Had she passed out?

While she wasn't interested in him, at least not like that, he was famous and impossibly beautiful. Besides, she probably smelled. She really hoped she didn't smell. 

Vil didn't seem to mind it if she did at that moment though so she did the only thing she could think of…besides just standing there. 

She hugged him back, using one hand to carefully hold the bowl of still steaming soup.

That seemed to be the cue for Epel and Rook who hugged them both. 

The group hug went on for a few more moments before Vil pulled away, causing the other two to do so as well. 

“Alright! Eat your soup, my dear, and then the real work begins.” He smirked. “I finally have the perfect excuse to take care of those dreadful pores.”

The Prefect tried to fake glare at him, but in the end, she just chuckled and shrugged. 

“Thank you for this, you guys. It… it means a lot.”

Vil just shushed her. 

“Eat your soup, Stage Manager. My time is precious and, by now, you've learned well that I don't like to waste it.”

Smiling, the Ramshackle Prefect and temporary Stage Manager did as she was told.

[sirowsky-stories]

The Old Prince

So, this is my entry for the Halloween themed Pedro Pascal Writing Challenge hosted by @pedrocontestsrus Thank you for organizing this! And if anyone else is interested in entering the competition, here's a link to the post with all the info.

I chose Prompt #2 Theme: A Dark and Stormy Night. However, I suck at short, so this is basically just a teaser which I'm gonna have to continue outside of the contest.

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Warnings: Monster Oberyn Martell x Female Reader, Game of Thrones AU, obviously Halloween themed, reader cusses, reader is attacked and abducted. Also, this is my first time writing Oberyn. Word Count: 4041 Author's Masterlist

   You run at full speed despite the darkness, ignoring the burning in your lungs and the furious pounding of your heart, even though you know that he’s already gone and that your running would only scare him off if he wasn’t.    The woods have always scared you and even now, in your mid-thirties, you still panic when you’re alone among the creaking old trees, spider webs and nightly active animals, all of whom seem intent on eating you. At least, to your own imagination.

   “Damned it, Casper…” you breathlessly curse the horse for leaving you, once you’ve been forced to a stop by the pain in your lungs.

   He’s normally very brave but being in the woods in the middle of a building storm is apparently too much even for his stout heart.    So, you’re left to walk the remaining four miles to your house, and not for the first time, you find yourself wondering why the hell you’d chosen to live all the way out here, surrounded by the very woods that have always been such a source of discomfort to you.

   “Because that was all you could afford, dimwit,” you chastise yourself out loud.

   The house you now live in had been put up for sale after the previous owner had been missing for a few years and was eventually declared dead, despite her body never being found.    It’s small and old, but well maintained and very charming, so you’d been surprised to be the only one interested in it.

   You’ve lived there for over six years now and while it’s a bit secluded and a little too far from town, you do love it.    The hiking trails leading up to the seven hills that make up the east boundary of the region run right by your property, and in daylight, you love to ride or just wander up to the peaks and admire the view.

   There are rarely any larger wildlife passing through so for the most part, it’s quite safe, so long as you remember to bring water and check for lose rocks on the steeper sections of the trails.    But now, in the near pitch-black darkness of night, you can’t even recognize the trail you’re on. So, why are you even out here?

   Well, that would be because you’d started out in daylight, as usual, but then gotten involved in a search for another missing person in the hills, which had left you out there until well after nightfall.    You had of course expected Casper to bring you home safe and sound, like he usually does no matter what’s going on around him. But unfortunately, on this occasion, the horse had lost its footing and fallen to the ground.

   He’d gotten up without trouble, but since you’d no longer been on his back at that point, he’d gotten spooked, probably by the reins getting caught in his legs or something, and had taken off.    You hope that he gets home without hurting himself, but you’re also quite angry with him for not recognizing your voice and staying by your side instead of running off on his own.

   But your thoughts are disrupted by a creaking sound coming from behind you, a sound definitely not created by a tree.    You stop, feeling a cold shiver move slowly down your spine, and you know that you’re in danger. You have no idea exactly what is watching you right now, but you know that something is.

   You hear that same sound again, mere moments after the first, and even as you instinctively set off running, too panicked to even know if you’re still on the trail, your mind tries to work out what the hell that sound is.    The winds are picking up, building towards the forecasted storm that has all the kids in town excited because of how perfect it is for the Halloween celebration, but it’s making it so much harder for you to hear if something’s chasing you.

   Unable to stop yourself, you throw a look over your right shoulder, and a strangled scream escapes you when you catch a glimpse of something impossibly large and strangely shiny, and then just teeth.    You try to run faster but you can’t. The dark world around you is a blur as you wait for those teeth to sink into your flesh and torture you to death. It seems to take so long.

   And then it happens.    You’re snagged to a stop so quickly that it makes your legs lift off the ground as they’re kicked forwards by the momentum.    Something has your shoulder between its jaws, but that’s as much as you’re aware of before the world fades away and nothing exists anymore.

-=¤=-

   You wake up on a bed in a room with a strange ceiling and stone walls. You’re groggy and only half awake, so it takes you a moment to realize that there are paintings covering the ceiling, making the stones look kind of fluid.    Beautiful images of stormy seas and a red sunset flow across the domed shape, bringing it to life in a way that stone shouldn’t be capable of.

   Then you remember, and bring your left hand up to examine your right shoulder, half expecting it to just not be there. But it is, and it feels fine.    You sit up, relieved but also confused that there’s no pain, and as your bare feet hit the cold floors, your eyes are drawn to the rest of the room.    It’s round and there’s a window in every direction, revealing the daylight outside, but also every detail inside.

   The bed is easily large enough for two people, and the sheets and blankets are the softest you’ve ever felt. There’s a loveseat underneath one of the windows, with plush pillows leaned against the armrests. In the middle of the room is a carpet which you can tell just by looking at it, likely costs more than your house. And the curtains, four matching pairs, all a deep red, somehow seem both heavy and feathery light.

   There’s a door to your left, and it’s standing open, so at least you’re not a prisoner. But you don’t feel like one regardless. All of this is so strange, because you’re sure that something bit you, but you can’t find any wounds in your skin.    There are holes in your shirt, though. And where’s your jacket? Why are you barefoot?

   You head for the door and find a winding staircase leading down, so this is apparently a tower.    At the foot of the stairs is a corridor and then more stairs, twirling the other way this time, so you keep heading down, passing closed doors and empty spaces until you reach a pair of large double doors that are left wide open.

   There’s a fire crackling inside and your cold feet and bare arms have left you shivering, so you head inside, finding the biggest open fireplace you’ve ever seen, in the other end of the huge room.    It must be a ballroom or excessively large dining room, but it’s completely empty, save for a padded short stool in front of the fire.

   You sit and warm yourself, trying to think back, to remember any details that might help you understand what’s happened to you, but nothing comes to mind.    And then a movement to your right startles you to your feet.

   “My apologies, miss. I have a habit of moving quietly,” a dark and low voice says, and when you locate the man who that voice belongs to, you’re momentarily stunned into silence.

   He’s tall and broad, but quite lean, with a perfectly chiseled jaw and a beard trimmed to accentuate that. He wears no jewelry, but his dark green coat has golden threads and small embroideries on the cuffs and along the collar. Shapes too small for you to make out at ten feet of distance, but which from afar remind you of snakes.    Still, it’s his eyes that rob your brain of most its function.

   So dark, but also incredibly expressive. He’s curious, intrigued, but wary. As though you might pose a threat to him somehow, which seems impossible to you.

   “W-… Where are my shoes?” you manage to croak, still unable to break away from his eyes.

   “I took your shoes and your jacket to encourage you not to run away once you awoke. I’m afraid I am going to need you to remain here for the time being,” the man explains, and suddenly your brain wakes up in full.

   “So, I’m your captive, is that what you’re telling me?”

   “Yes, and no. You are my captive, as much as I am yours.”

   “What’s that supposed to mean? I have no idea who you are,” you counter, getting angry because that’s all you can do to keep from panicking.

   “My name is Oberyn, and this is my home. You’re welcome to explore as much as you like, but I would recommend staying away from the basement. Especially at night.”

   “Why? Do you have more prisoners down there you don’t want me to set free?”

   “Oh, there are cages down there, and many of them are occupied,” he says, while taking a few steps closer to you. “But I doubt that you would want to release any of the creatures that are locked inside.”

   Creatures? What the hell does he mean by that?    He’s only three feet away when he stops, just as the outside light catches his eyes at a different angle, and you can swear that you see something else within them. A bright golden shine seems to illuminate them from within for just a fraction of a second, as if reacting to the sun’s rays.

   “The tower is yours. I will not venture there without your approval for the duration of your stay.    But the rest of the castle is my domain, and you move through it at your own risk. Do you understand?” he asks, to which your anger flares.

   “Understand? No… I really don’t.    Who are you?! What is this place, where the hell am I?! There aren’t any castles anywhere near the seven hills! And what the hell was it that chased me last night, and why do I have bitemarks in my shirt but not on my skin?    What the fuck is going on?!”

   He lets you scream and rant without so much as a twitch bothering his mustache, and says nothing as you begin to pace in front of the fireplace, crossing your arms in silent defiance, but also an attempt to guard yourself against all this strangeness.

   “You were bitten by a serpent,” he quietly says, just as you’re about to give up and leave the room.

   “It was a lot bigger than any snake, and it had a lot more than two fangs,” you counter, all but spitting at him now, further angered by the notion that he might be trying to convince you that you imagined the whole thing.

   “I didn’t say that it was a snake,” he replies, and you stop pacing.

   “And what is a serpent if not a damned snake?” you challenge, but he seems unbothered.

   “Is that all it can be? You must think broader than that, young one.”

   His words make no sense to you. Serpent, snake, fucking danger noodle, it’s all the same.    And “young one”? He’s at most five years older than you.

   “Please, just tell me where we are?” you finally ask, deciding that there’s probably no point in trying to argue with this mystery man.

   He looks at you for a good minute then, as if trying to decide if he should answer, and you notice that he doesn’t blink a lot, which is surprisingly unsettling.

   “We are six hundred and nine miles from your home. Give or take a few dozen feet.”

   That takes you a second to process.

   “What!?” you almost scream, unable to take any more of this incomprehensible nonsense. “Do you honestly expect me to believe that you had a fucking helicopter hidden in the woods, or something?”

   “Take a look outside the windows,” he calmly suggests. “I’m sure the snow on the ground will help you come to terms with the truth that you are no longer as far south as you think.”

   Unwilling to take his word for it, you walk over to the nearest window, where the view makes your heart sink. Because he’s right.    Not only are there several inches of snow covering everything in sight, but you also don’t recognize the landscape at all.    And that’s when the realization of just how much trouble you’re in, finally dawns on you.

   Turning away from the window, you now meet your captor’s eyes, for the first time with fear brimming within your own. Unable to stop yourself, you try to back away from him but there’s a wall in the way, so you start moving sideways instead, heading for the open double doors of the room.    He doesn’t try to stop you, but just before you turn your back to him as you’re crossing the threshold, his expression turns incredibly sad.

   You run through the halls, fully panicking now and having no idea where you’re even going. But then another set of large double doors are in front of you, so you grab the handle on one of them and pull it open.    It’s the front entrance. You’re standing on the top ledge of another staircase, this one twisting off in both directions, leading down to a massive courtyard.

   There’s a fountain in the shape of a rearing Pegasus in the middle, so big that the lilac shrubs which surrounds it barely even reach halfway up its hindlegs. And beyond that, is a giant garden of cherry trees and rhododendron hedges, in the middle of which, a wide driveway comes straight through, right up to the courtyard.    A driveway that’s so long, you can’t even see the end of it, where it disappears into the surrounding woods.

   You couldn’t run from here even with your shoes and jacket.

   The freezing wind brushes over your exposed skin, making you shiver and wrap your arms around yourself while sorrow suddenly burns through you, bringing tears to your eyes.    But then something soft and warm falls over your shoulders and you flinch, spinning on your heels and quickly backing away, further out onto the ledge to try and get away from him, which means stepping into the icy cold snow in just your skin.

   “Please…” he says, and he sounds alluringly soft and inviting now, which only adds to your suspicions. “I have no intention of harming you.”

   “Then how about you tell me what exactly your intention is?” you counter, barely able to keep your jaws from clattering with how badly you’ve started shaking.

   He takes a deep breath and then slowly releases it, somehow looking sadder and more tired with each milliliter of air that escapes him.

   “I just… I’m sorry. Please, come back inside before you get frostbite on your feet.”

   “That’s n-not an answer,” you challenge, already trembling all over now.

   “I know, this is why I’m sorry, but how is hurting yourself going to help the situation?” he wonders, and you have to concede that it doesn’t.

   You huff once in defiance, and then step forward, allowing him to wrap the blanket around you. But you hadn’t expected him to sweep you up into his arms and carry you inside.

   “Hey, I c-can still walk, p-put me down!”

   “The floors are cold here. I will put you down once you’re in a room with a rug.”

   “Or you c-could just give me b-back my shoes,” you gripe, and he hums in what sounds like a thoughtful manner to you, as if he’s conceding that maybe he was wrong to take them from you.

   But he says nothing more, and as he carries you through the empty hallways, none of which look familiar to you because this place is apparently a damned maze, you steal a few closer glances at him.    His skin is in better condition than yours ever has been, to the point where even his stubble looks soft. And his hair looks flawless. Not one strand of the curls on his head seems damaged or less bouncy than the rest. And the same goes for his beard and mustache.

   His clothes are perfectly tailored, and they look new, but they don’t smell like it. Instead, the only smell you detect seems to be his, and it’s not at all unpleasant. Contrarily, the longer you smell him, the more inviting the scent becomes.    You’re somewhat embarrassed to realize that you’ve stopped shivering with the warmth that spreads through you from within, just from that delicious scent.

   The room that he finally turns into is small and smells of paper, reminiscent of the old bookstore in the city back home, run by a sweetheart of an old lady who also happens to be the grandmother of the missing woman who’s house you live in.    She was the only one who’d come by with a housewarming gift after you’d moved in. That’s how sparsely populated your social circle is.

   It looks to be an office, of sorts. There’s a fireplace here too, already lit and crackling warmly in the far corner of the room. To the left is a desk filled with scrolls of paper and what looks like old maps of countries you don’t recognize, and to the right are shelves filled with more scrolls, books and scraps of paper.    There’s an armchair and a small sofa in front of the fire, and he sets you down on the sofa before kneeling in front of you to inspect your wet and freezing feet.

   You’re about to argue that you’re perfectly capable of tending to your own extremities, but something about his touch stops you.    His fingers seem warmer than they should be, almost feverishly so, but more than that, his skin feels like it’s giving off tiny electric impulses where it meets yours. And the feeling is highly intoxicating.

   He quickly examines your feet and then sits back and looks up at you again, where a curious expression flashes across his features as he notices that you’re suddenly a bit out of it. He seems concerned at first, and then… is he blushing?

   “If I get you your socks and your boots, will you promise me that you will not go running into the woods and getting yourself lost?” he asks, sternly holding your gaze while he looks for any traces of deception in your answer.

   Except you don’t give any. Because you can’t make that promise. Not when you still don’t know why he’s brought you here or why he intends to keep you here.

   “I don’t suppose it would make much difference if I told you that we are much too far away from any other people for you to make it there alive in winter?” he sighs, and he does seem genuinely worried that you won’t believe him.

   “Actually, I do believe you on that part. I just also believe that dying while running for your freedom might be better than living in captivity,” you explain, and once again, something terribly sad comes over him.

   “I really wish you could trust that I don’t intend to harm you, young one.”

   “Why do you call me that? I can’t be that much younger than you.”

   He chuckles drily at that, but it’s a sound of hopelessness rather than bemusement.

   “If only that were true…” he says quietly, turning his gaze to the floor for a moment before he rises and leaves the room.

   When he returns, only a few seconds later, he’s carrying your shoes and wool socks, both of which he appears to have cleaned, hands them to you and then steps back while you put them on.    For a moment, you contemplate more questions, but the more you think about the strangeness of this whole situation, the more you just want to pretend that it’s a dream and that you’re gonna wake up and laugh at yourself any second now.

   “The tower’s mine?” you find yourself asking, instead of any real questions.

   “That whole wing is yours for as long as you’re here,” he nods.

   “And how long might that be?”

   “For now, I can’t say with any certainty, but hopefully no more than a few days.”

   He does look genuinely apologetic as he says that, but you’re relieved to hear it. Somehow, you’d envisioned being a captive for years, locked away in that tower. But there’s something innately honest about this guy. You have no reason to trust anything he says, and yet you do.

   “And what determines how long my stay ends up being?” you wonder, while rising from the sofa and daring yourself to take one step towards him.

   He doesn’t react in any visible way to your truly minimal challenge, but you wonder if perhaps he likes that you don’t just accept your circumstances when they don’t feel right to you. There’s a little glimmer in his eyes that might just be a hint of awe.

   “How long it takes me to figure out how you’re still alive,” he quietly answers, bringing you back to the severity of the moment.

   Turning away from you, he reaches for an old-fashioned candlestick holder, lights the candle and then hands it to you.

   “Living light reveals the path to the tower,” he says, as if that isn’t the most useless piece of information you’ve ever gotten, and then gestures to the open door.

   Utterly confused, you step out into the dusky hallway, half expecting the wooden door to slam shut behind you, but it doesn’t.    When you turn back to ask him which direction to turn, you find him right behind you, already showing you to the right with a gentlemanly open hand aiming that way.    You nod your thanks and begin walking, still without a clue as to what the candle is meant to show you. Until it does.

   Once the dancing light hits a certain wall, a faint glow appears in a thin line running along the wall, around waist-height.    You follow it, seeing it fade away as soon as the flame isn’t directly in front of it, and before you know it, you’re back at those winding stairs.    Walking back into the chamber at the top, you find that nothing’s moved since you left.

   You walk around the room, examining everything more closely, finding two large and fully stocked bookcases hidden behind drapes on either side of the fireplace. There’s also a closet built into the wall next to the bed, and there are very old dresses hanging in there, covered with dust, making you wonder who the girl might’ve been that those clothes had originally belonged to.

   Realizing that you haven’t asked your captor how to get food or how he intends to figure out how you’ve miraculously healed, you spend a few minutes pondering on whether you’ve got the energy to make the long walk back down to look for a kitchen and ask if you’re expected to come down from your tower at any specific times.    But ultimately, you decide to leave it for now, picking out a book instead. You’re too stressed still to be able to eat anything anyway.

   The book keeps you occupied for the entire afternoon, and it isn’t until it grows dark that you eventually close it and get up, intending to go looking for that kitchen.    You’d left the candle holder in the window that faces the front of the castle, although you can’t see the courtyard from behind the main structure, but as you go to pick it up, a movement outside catches your eye.

   Peering down towards the ground, you see a door swing open, and then something runs across the section of the yard that you can see. It’s so fast that you can’t be sure, but it looks like it could be what attacked you last night.    And it looks like… a dragon.    A dragon that just ran out of the same castle where you’re trapped.

Part 2

Thank you for reading! I had so much fun with this and I'm nowhere near done with it. Huge Thanks to @joelswritingmistress for inspiring me to take on Oberyn, I didn't think I ever would.

If anyone wishes to be notified when this story is updated, follow @sirowsky-stories and turn on notifications, or just ask nicely, and I'll tag you.

[tiredofthehumanlife]

Ain't no hips like a cowboy's

Barbie dolls: Billy Bonney x gender neutral reader

Word: 2.1k

Summary: uh you accidentally spill the beans that you like to sexualize cowboys in your free time to Billy and uh hilarity ensues

Warnings: you have a horse named Constance cuz that's a cool name, you have a friend named Dixie, you really like hips, like a lot, uh ranching and ranches described by someone who exclusively likes on a farm not a ranch, obscene amount of southern slang so eyeah, hat rule sorry it's really funny to me I can't not include it, you work in a bar mayhaps even a saloon if you feel like it, mentions of eating, mention of death, suggestive content mentions that you prob masturbate, alcohol consumption written by someone who only drinks Pepsi, yea I guess thats it

Life in the West didn’t have too many pleasures so you treasured them when you found them. You savored a funny customer at the bar, a laugh was favorable to nasty comments. You kept an eye on sunrises when you were pulled from your bed too early in the morning, you thought of the colors when you wanted to shank the next person you saw. You thanked cooks with all your heart when they gave you food that warmed your whole body and soul. Your most recent pleasure, finding out the town cowboys practiced in a nearby ranch.

Even more, you had a cover to watching them. The rancher wanted a little more money so his stablemen were open to the public. Truely you just wanted to get your horse, Constance, new shoes. Not your fault the only entertaining thing was the cowboys riding their horses around in the cow pen a short walk away. You even told your friend Dixie about it. You both brought your horses to the ranch. Apparently, the ranchers were used to your appearance because you didn’t have to tell them what you wanted they just shooed you off. 

You waited for Dixie at the pen, watching the man with the stupidest hat you’d ever seen chasing a cow around the circle. You heard boots scraping in the dirt, alerting you of Dixie’s presence. You smiled, already happy to have her here with you. 

“Like watchin’ their hips. Rocking back and forth. I know it’s because of the horse but I use my imagin-“ You tore your eyes off the cowboy’s rocking hips to meet Dixie’s eyes. Only it wasn’t her soft honey eyes staring back at you, it was the harsh blue of William H. Bonney. You sucked in a harsh breath, taking a step back. He had a grin pulling at his lips that he was trying to hide and failing miserably. 

“Sorry, Mr. Bonney. I thought you were my friend, Dixie.” You muttered, trying to kick off the gnawing embarrassment clutching to your leg. You looked back to the cowboy but likeing the view a lot less now. 

“Please, I don’t mind. Don’t mind at all. Call me Billy, no need for fancy names ‘round here” Billy joined you at your side, kicking his foot up between the large gate. You clenched your teeth and pretended to not mind, watching the man in the stupid hat lose his hold on his lasso again. He was a horrific cowboy but his hips. Billy tapped your forearm, gaining your attention again. 

“You work at the bar, yes?” You nodded. Billy gave you a soft smile. “I’ve wanted to talk to you for a while now.” He said, pressing his knuckle to his lips. You pretend you didn’t follow his hand with your eyes or let them linger. Billy’s lips twitched and you felt your embarrassment claw at your leg again. You shrugged, looking away from him. 

“Why haven’t you?” You stared at him as he mulled over your question. He hummed. Billy dropped his hand from his mouth, settling it on the top of the fence. You watched his face attentively as he tilted his head from side to side. You’d seen him in your bar, he never ordered from you though, instead asking a waitress. You just thought he held a small dislike for you. Obviously not large because you’d be dead. 

“Scared you wouldn’t like me, held my tongue because of it,” Billy explained, tilting his head to catch your eyes again. You snarled. Billy chuckled at your face, smiling while you smothered your disdain. 

“You’re denser than no-proof bread.” You mutter, looking back to the stupid hat man. He lost his lasso again, man he was a mess. Billy clicked his tongue, rolling his eyes and turning his head from you. You scoffed, letting out a light chuckle to ease the tension. 

“It’s true!” Billy faced you again, shaking his head. 

“No, it ain’t.” He grumbled. You pressed your lips into a tight line. He was grumpy now. How is it your fault he’s dense? 

“Oh, hunny. Don’t get all hurrmphy on me. Not your fault your skull’s thicker than rocks.” Your tone was comforting, the same one you’d use on a toddler who just experienced the wet sock feeling. Billy clenched his teeth and stared at you. Are you done? You gave him a soft smile, not quite.

”It’ll be a cold day in hell when I don’t like you, Willam H. Bonney. I do hope you know that.” Billy smothered his smile, sniffing and looking over his shoulder to school his face. You smiled, glad you were able to fix his grumpiness. He looked back at you, squinting at the sun. 

“I ought to holler at you more then.” Billy offered, watching your reaction closer. You nodded. 

“Ought.” You agreed. Dixie’s curls came bouncing into your view, a bright purple dress fluttering around her. You smiled and waved her over. Billy looked up and watched her as she joined you on your other side. 

“Blacksmith 'bout as useful as a pair of tits on a bull. He looked about 12 and couldn't reach a horse’s reins with a footstool. Ridiculous.” Dixie fanned herself with her gloves and groaned. “This better be a mighty fine show.” You smiled and looked back to Billy. He glanced down at the ground before pulling his eyes to the stupid hat man. Billy let out a whistle and righted his hat on his head. He looked back at you and raised an eyebrow. He leaned down and lightly dragged his lips across your cheekbone to the shell of your ear. 

“Watch my hips, will ya’?” He whispered, letting his lips linger before pulling back again. You smiled and nodded as Billy walked away from you. He headed straight for the stupid hat man who was now waiting in the pen with the horse standing next to him. Billy pulled himself over the edge of the pen and headed straight for the stupid hat man. Billy took the reins from him and waved him off. The stupid hat man made a beeline for the edge of the pen, flinging himself over it. He took a few angry steps away from the pen and threw his hat in the dirt. Thank the stars. 

You looked back to Billy. His eyes were already on you. He tipped his hat down and dug his heel into the horse’s side. You kept your eyes on him as he traveled the horse around the pen, flinging his lasso around the cows’ necks here and there. Dixie reached over and shook your arm back and forth.

“How was I?” Billy asked when he was close enough to be in your hearing range. You feigned boredom, shrugging and looking around like the dirt was more interesting. 

You let your eyes dip from his smile, down the line of buttons on his shirt, to his hips. You committed the image to memory, planning to bring it back to the surface later during the night.

You weren’t sure if he usually rolled his hips that much. You’d seen him in town riding down the street a few times but you always felt guilty looking at him with such lust without his knowledge. Now he knew exactly where your eyes were, so maybe it was on purpose.

You lost focus of what any other part of him was doing, solely focused on his hips rocking back and forth. You weren’t sure how long you spent like that but you were pulled from it when his hips stalled. You looked up to his face. Billy looked away from the reins and saddle, meeting your eyes. You grinned and nodded at him. Billy demounted the horse and handed it back off to the stupid hat man. Billy jumped over the pen, heading straight for you. 

“You were alright.” Billy chuckled, running his tongue along the inside of his bottom lip. 

“So that’s not drool on your chin?” Billy asked, wiping at the corner of his mouth. You smothered the urge to wipe your mouth. You glared at Billy. 

“I think our horses’ shoes must be done, need to head out before someone claims poor Constance as a freebie.” You said, reaching back to latch onto Dixie’s arm. You pulled her with you, heading off to the barn. Billy groaned. 

“Leaving already, sweet thing? Shame. If only I knew what time you worked at the bar.” Billy said, tilting his head back to watch you walk with Dixie. You smiled. 

“Oh yeah. Be a real shame if you knew I worked from sunup to sundown every weekday, that’d be terrible.” You hoped to pull a bright grin from him again. The one he was sporting now had you seeing spots. 

“Hey there, stranger.” Your smile grew at the sound of Billy’s voice. You turned to face him. He sat down on a stool across from you, smiling at you. 

You didn’t think of him again until he was sauntering through your bar doors. It was already a rowdy night. The band in the corner was working the crowd into a frenzy. The boots were stomping against the wooden floors in tandem with the beat. You couldn’t stop yourself from tapping along with them.

Cheers followed the end of another song. You set down the glass of whiskey you were pouring to clap along. You returned to your work and slid the glass to the man who ordered it. You smiled and watched the band start another song, the fiddle player swirling around in a spin. 

“What can I get you, Billy?” You asked, tilting your head to the side. He squinted and glanced around you to make a decision. 

“Just a whiskey.” He said, sitting back on his stool. You hummed and pulled a new glass out, setting it in front of him. You finished it quickly and pushed the glass closer to him. Billy rested his hand on the lip of the glass. 

“Thank you, baby,” Billy muttered before taking a small sip and setting the glass back down. You dug your teeth into the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling at the name. You screwed the cap on the bottle and set it back on its shelf, returning it to Billy. He watched you as you waited in front of him to start the conversation. 

“So how often do you think about cowboys riding horses?” Billy asked, bringing his glass to his mouth again. You scrunched your nose. 

“Any cowboy or just you?” You pressed, leaning forward on the bar to be closer to Billy. His eyebrow twitched up. He set his glass back down and met your eyes. 

“Mm, just me,” Billy muttered. You hummed and glanced up at the ceiling for a brief second. You wanted to give him a correct answer. The more you thought of it the less you thought you could properly come up with the right number. You thought of him a bit too much now that you fully mulled it over. 

“Too often. You’ve been plaguing my mind ever since I saw you in town on your first day here.” You said, giving him a soft smile. You ignored the ball of nerves that crawled up your throat. Your thoughts reeled at the thought of him getting grossed out by you. Billy hummed. 

“There’s something on your face,” Billy muttered. Your hands moved to your face, rubbing at your cheeks. 

“Where?” Billy gestured at his face, it was no help at all. It was too general. You rubbed at your face furiously, wondering what on earth he was talking about. 

“No. There.” He pointed generally at your face again. You furrowed your eyebrows and scrubbed at your skin. 

“No, it’s right there,” Billy said, pointing again. You smacked his finger away and leaned forward. 

“Just get it, you’re getting me all wound up like a wet hen.” You said. Billy reached forward and wiped at your cheek with one hand. While the other one moved under your radar, your focus on his skin against yours. Billy plucked his hat from his head as he continued to rub your cheek. Your eyes stayed glued to his. Billy placed his hat on your head, pushing it down to keep it sturdy. You grinned at the feeling, catching onto his rouse. 

“There wasn’t nothing on my face, was there?” You ask, tilting your head to the side. Billy smiled brightly, shaking his head. 

“Nope.” Billy said, leaning back in his stool to finish his whiskey. You shook your head, rolling your eyes in the process. You pulled away from him at the sound of another customer calling your name. 

“You’re shameless, Mr. Bonney. Truly.”

[hlficlibrary]

HL FIC LIBRARY ✤ AUTHOR REC

AO3: LiveLaughLoveLarry

Tumblr: @loveislarryislove

STATS:

✤ Number of fics: 88

✤ Posting Since: 2014

TOP 5 FICS:

1️⃣ You Took My Heart By Surprise {T, 39k}

There is reason to believe Prince Harry’s life is in danger. After a failed kidnapping attempt, Louis is assigned to guard Harry around the clock. He is the best at what he does, but he has a tendency to not get along with clients. Louis and Harry start off on the wrong foot, but it soon becomes clear that neither is at all what the other expected.

Queen Anne met Louis’ eyes. “While your file documents many remarkable accomplishments, it also contains a number of early terminations. Why is that?”

“It all depends on what your priorities are,” he said slowly. “If your primary concern is protection, I’m your guy. If you’re looking for someone polite…” He shrugged. “I don’t generally try to be rude, but social graces aren’t what I’m being paid for. If someone values being sucked up to over being protected, that’s their problem.”

“You seem quite well-mannered,” Anne said, frowning.

Both Nick and Louis snorted at that. “You’ve only known me for ten minutes,” Louis said. “Give it time.”

2️⃣ Though the Seasons Change So Quickly (Keep Them Buried In My Heart) {G, 6k}

A series of moments of Harry and Louis' relationship through the years, from the very beginning to the present, through the perspective of those around them. It's beautiful and it's brutal, it's awe-inspiring and it's awful - it is what it is.

"He’s special, Gem," Harry says. "He’s different. Different from anyone else I’ve ever known. I think-”

Gemma holds up a hand. “Slow down, buddy,” she says. “You’ve only known him a few months.”

“I know,” Harry says again, his fingers tugging at the designs embroidered in the blanket. “But it’s still true.”

Gemma studies him for a long moment. It’s interesting, she thinks. She’s never seen him like this -– not really. He’s almost glowing, a smile constantly either present or hiding just below the surface, and while it could just be the band as a whole making him so happy, she somehow doesn’t think so.

3️⃣ Funny How The Stars Crossed Right {NR, 17k}

Liam and Louis round the corner to see a horse trotting around the ring. She (or maybe he) is a beautiful animal, with a dark black coat and white socks. A tall man in riding clothes sits atop the horse, speaking softly. He’s completely focused on the horse, and doesn’t notice their entrance at all. Dark brown curls spill out from beneath his helmet, and his expression is one of total joy.

“Who’s that?” Louis asks, finding himself oddly breathless.

“That’s Chester,” Liam says. “He’s an angel.”

Louis is about to comment that he looks like an angel, but then pauses. “The human or the horse?”

Louis is a photography student, assigned to do a project at Greenfield Stables. Harry is a veterinary student, working part-time at Greenfield to gain experience and make a little money. They both have something to teach the other.

4️⃣ Might've Took The Long Way {M, 21k}

It's been two years since Harry and Louis broke up. They were that couple in high school -- you know the one; been together forever, hopelessly in love, all over each other, the whole nine yards. Even when Louis went off to university, they found a way to make the distance work.

Until they broke up.

Now Harry is back in town, and no matter how many times Louis tells himself they can't be together, they keep falling right back into each other.

“They got a name?” Bebe asks.

“What?”

“Your ghosts,” she says, her voice suddenly soft. “If you want to tell me, I mean. I know I said I wouldn’t ask, but. Sometimes it can help to exorcise them.” She pauses, and chuckles. “Other times, vodka works better than sage.”

Louis holds his breath for a moment, building the courage, before he finally murmurs, “Harry.”

“Sorry?”

“Harry,” Louis says again. The name feels like a time bomb in his mouth, but it hasn’t blown up yet. “His name was -- is -- Harry.”

5️⃣ The Things You Hide {NR, 27k}

Louis has been an MI6 agent for four years. Now he wants out. Unfortunately, his superiors have other ideas. Their solution: a 'mission' in the Greek Islands, one that's more vacation than actual work. Harry is an avid photographer who shows him around the area. He's open and carefree and everything that Louis wishes he could be. Along the way they fall in love, and maybe Louis learns a little about love, a little about lies, and a whole lot the meaning of home.

HIDDEN GEM:

💎 what's left of my halo's black {E, 22k}

As Harry sucks lovebites into Louis’ neck, Louis hopes that one day those marks will cover the way he can still feel Alex’s handprints burned into his flesh.

As Harry’s nails drag scratches along Louis’ back, Louis hopes that one day the scabs on his heart will heal and drop away just like the scabs on his skin.

As Harry fucks him down into the mattress, the bed shaking with every thrust, Louis hopes that one day his mouth will forget the shape of Alex’s name, won’t trace it over and over as the heat builds inside him, won’t want to scream it when he comes. Maybe one day he’ll open his eyes, as he slowly floats down from his post-orgasm haze, and won’t expect to see Alex’s face smiling back at him.

But today is not that day.

A year after a devastating breakup, Louis is still trying to put himself back together - but getting over a breakup is hard when you work as a wedding planner. Thankfully, his coworker Harry is the most supportive friend Louis could ask for. But Harry has some secrets of his own, and they send Louis' world spinning off its axis all over again.

[humanbug]

Someone else?

Tommy and Joel discover another immune person. 

part 2 part 3

a/n: this is my first fanfic and it is purely for fun! i had the idea for an immune!reader and wanted to try writing it myself! :p its very slowburn! this all takes place is jackson. it is happening after the first game and i am imagining the beginning of the second game where everything is peaceful and everyone is happy and joel lives a long happy life

warnings(?): jackson era ellie, this is not canon, spoilers for the game&show(?)

The perimeter patrol spotted the patrol rangers riding back, they shout for the guards to open the gate as they see the urgency they’re riding toward them with. This patrol was Tommy and Joel and it was supposed to just be a routine patrol to the ski lodge. They had made it time and time again without a hitch. This time though, this time Tommy rides back with a bundle of sheets clutched in between his arms. The both of them shouting for Maria and for a medic with a panic that Jackson hasn’t heard in a long time. Joel’s chest constricts with anxiety as his mind is like an avalanche of ‘what next’ questions.

Ellie, Jesse, and Dina had been at the Tipsy Bison as their day was beginning to wind down. They had been shouting a game of scrabble that was on the verge of becoming violent.

“Ixnay is a word. You just don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jesse insists.

Ellie bites back her grin as Dina turns a concerning shade of red.

“No! No. It’s not! It’s not a word. Ellie?” Shouts Dina.

Ellie flips through the dictionary as quickly as possible, trying to avoid Dina’s wrath. Landing on the I’s she drags her fingers down the page, sucking in a sharp breath.

“Dina…I have bad news. It is a-” Ellie is abruptly cut off by shouts, quickly becoming anxious as she hears people shouting Joel. Abandoning the game the three of them rush out of the bar to see Tommy passing Joel something. No, not something, someone. What the hell is going on? 

Jesse jogs off noticing Tommy’s struggle to corral both horses. Ellie and Dina running over to Joel and the bundle in his arms. 

Everyone is watching in curiosity as Joel is visibly shaken, he’s nervous? There is murmuring moving through Jackson like an ice-cold wave. Maria is quick to nip this curiosity in the bud. 

“Alright! Alright, everybody! That’s enough!” Her voice echoes through the snowy town square.

“A young girl was found in the ski lodge. That’s all, okay? She is getting checked by the medic now but I want this crowd dispersed right now.” Her word is final as people begin to separate. 

Inside Joel is passing the bundle in his arms to the medic and whispering something in her ear, eyes shifting around in unease. Ellie and Dina are standing by the door not wanting to crowd the already stressed medic. The bundle of blankets is placed in a wheelchair and taken past the swinging doors before Ellie can get a glimpse of their face. The only visible trait is long, matted, brown hair. 

Joel finally turns his attention to Ellie and Dina with a breath. Joel clears his throat to avoid his voice cracking out of fear.

“Dina…can we have a minute?” Joel questions.

“Yeah, yeah of course. I’ll go help Jesse. Ellie, just find me when you can.” Dina responds in an even tone, always being understanding.

Waiting for her to leave the building, Joel nods at Ellie to follow him. They both find a seat in the hallway of the small medic building. 

“What the hell happened out there?” Ellie asks.

“She- That girl in there-” Joel stutters at a loss for words. 

Ellie thinks incredulously. Joel stutterers. Whatever he is about to tell her is important. Important enough for him to trip over his words like he’s drunk. However she stays silent, patient. He seems shaken and the last thing she wants to do is make that worse.

“That girl is- Okay, listen. Me and Tommy got to the ski lodge and noticed the door was open. Now you’ve done that patrol before and know that the rule is always to close those doors. We go inside and see a mess of a person in the corner, unconscious. I quickly went to check on her and- and the first thing I see is- " He falters.

“The first thing I see is, she’s been bitten. I- there was no denying the giant bite on her leg. Tommy sees it too and his first instinct is to shoot but I- I stopped him because the bite was…Ellie the bite was old.” He says with a breath.

Ellie is at a total loss for words. Her mind refused to believe what it had just heard. 

She scoffs, “No. There’s no way. You- It has to be from something else. An animal? Or- Or- Something else?!”

“Ellie. She was bitten. There’s not a doubt in my mind that she was bitten by infected. We think she passed out from blood loss but kiddo she…she was bitten. The bite was not old enough to have healed but old enough that she should have turned by now.” Joel tries his best to convince her.

“Stop! Stop. I don’t believe this. This has to be some mistake.” Ellie stands to leave, beginning to feel angry. Anger at what exactly? She’s not sure but she can begin to feel that anger turn lethal. 

Before she can get to the swinging doors the medic walks out looking dazed. She has blood on her gloved hands and silently beacons Ellie and Joel into the room. The three of them walk into the room all shaking to some degree. 

The medic whispers, “She has to be immune. The bite is at least forty-eight hours old. If I had to guess, she was overwhelmed by a hoard, was bitten, and through the adrenaline didn’t notice until she collapsed in the ski lodge.”

“Let me see it.” Ellie insists.

The medic nods, gently pushing the blanket over her left leg. The medic had not dressed the wound yet, assuming people would want to see it. For god sake she ogled at it the entire time she was alone with the girl. 

“She’s incredibly malnourished so she might not look it right now but I am assuming she’s about nineteen.” The medic mumbles out, needing to fill the tense silence.

Ellie stares at it. Hand lifting to touch it but the medic clearing her throat had her retracting her hand in an instant. Her teeth grind and her eyes water. She is in utter disbelief.

Joel steps forward glancing at the bite, at Ellie, and back at the bite. “Son of a bitch it’s real.” He mumbles. He nods at the medic to wrap the wound and she does so promptly. Seemingly still in shock and what she’s wrapping. 

The medic clears her throat and wrings out her hands, “I have no clue when she’ll wake up but she’s stable so I am gonna wait ‘till she is awake. You can both head home and I’ll have someone get you when she’s up.”

“No. I’m staying.” Ellie quips, shaking her head.

“Kiddo, you should get some rest-” Joel begins.

“NO. I’m not going anywhere until she wakes up. You both go. I’ll let you know when she’s up.” Ellie says, glancing at the medic.

Finding little room for argument. Joel and the medic nod their heads. The medic leaves quickly, needing to cry. Joel gives Ellie one more guilty glance and leaves. 

Ellie falls into the chair in the corner of the room, head in hands. Taking a much needed deep breath, she sits up cracking her neck and rests her head on the wall behind her. Trying to keep awake she bounces her leg. 

Ellie is awakened by a gasp followed by violent coughing. She sits up to see the girl sitting up in the bed, hands gripping the blanket, as she looks wild-eyed around the room. Ellie holds her breath as the two of them make eye contact.

still a WIP! :)