#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

[butterflydm]

WoT rewatch (2x03-2x04)

Spoilers through what we know about s3 so far. And only show spoilers, actually. Not sure how I managed that.

2x03

Our big Nynaeve focal episode, though it does still continue and follow through on the other major plotlines for other characters, it's just that Nynaeve gets the majority of the time.

Leane, Liandrin, & Sheriam are the ones witnessing Nynaeve's Accepted Test.

We know that Liandrin is Black Ajah, of course, and I imagine her suggesting Nynaeve so early for the Test was not only to be allowed to teach her but also to traumatize her to make it easier to push her towards the Shadow. Because that's Ishy's goal with all five ta'veren - push them towards the Shadow. I do wonder if the reason he swaps to having Liandrin give Nynaeve to the Seanchan instead is because Lanfear's actions over in the Rand-Moiraine storyline have forced him to advance his plans. Because Lanfear doesn't really care about the other ta'veren at this point, at least that we see in s2 - she only cares about Rand.

I like that we heard about Nynaeve's backstory in s1 and now get to watch it play out.

"Remember, Red is dead." She's afraid of becoming like Liandrin.

This moment between Nynaeve and Test-Tam is so heartbreaking. Him asking after Rand and Nynaeve lying so that she won't break a dying man's heart, and then being forced to leave him there in pain.

And no Elayne around when Nynaeve & Test-Egwene say goodbye because they've literally never met (though she maybe heard her voice through the door).

The whole Romantic Lan riding in on a horse reminds me of what Adelas speculated about Lan & Moiraine's first meeting before she heard the true story.

The sleeves of Nynaeve's coat have really nice embroidery here.

Liandrin is probably thinking partly about Nynaeve here (she does have fondness for Nynaeve at this point) but also about how Ishy will not be happy with her, since he doesn't want the ta'veren dead.

Everything about the Seanchan remains chilling. We do see this particular damane (who can sense women who can channel) on one of the ships that explodes at the end, I believe.

Uno's death works on so many narrative levels, even before we learn at the end of the season that he's one of the Heroes - it's true to his established character and it shows how ruthless the Seanchan are. The added benefit of him being a Hero is that it sets up the Heroes as morally opposed to the Seanchan (especially those being led by the Shadow, but Suroth isn't doing anything here that the non-Shadow Seanchan wouldn't also do at this point, which is a very important point. Suroth moved faster and extended their reach more than Turok was prepared to do, and gets in trouble for it, but her actual methods are Empire-sanctioned from everything that we see on screen and it's important to note that, I feel).

I love Logain forcing Rand into a pointless fetch quest just to test what he's willing to do. Also, given what we know they changed about how women can sense channeling (it's a Talent not everyone has), I think they also gave that Talent to Logain, but for men. The Searcher damane may be seeing a similar glow to what Logain describes.

Oh look, a gleeman talking about the Horn of Valere, that summons the Heroes from the dead to fight for the Light, and then Rand asks Lanfear about it! The Horn gets talked about more in the party scene later too.

Now that we aren't in Nynaeve's Test-world, Elayne exists again!

I tease but this is a very heartbreaking scene. Poor Egwene. Mat stays behind. Rand sacrifices himself, and now she's being told that Nynaeve is dead.

Sheriam sucks at grief-counseling. I mean, it's clear she's not even really trying.

I wonder if Liandrin got told off by Ishy for losing Nynaeve, because it does feel like the plans for Mat accelerated abruptly, like maybe Liandrin is no longer trusted to break Mat to be ready for the dagger/Ishy.

Ugh, but she does fuck with his head hard before she kicks him out.

"A stupid desperate boy who wallows in self-pity, blaming his friends for leaving him."

Egwene & Liandrin's confrontation here is great.

"We Aes Sedai can only speak the truth, so listen to me." You liiiiiar!

Also Liandrin/the Shadow did NOT have Egwene's number correctly lol. Though I guess Liandrin has a better idea now.

Lanfear is loving getting all this attention being the woman on Rand's arm and getting all up in her fantasy world. I like that we meet Anveare here before we find out she's Moiraine's sister.

And Rand gets his first lesson in how politics work (and hates it).

Lanfear is so miffed that Rand isn't sharing everything with her. And miffed about him getting suspicious of 'Selene's' motives in helping him (which explains why she pushes so hard in his dreams later).

I love saidar being represented by water and now Logain using wine as the metaphor for saidin. Also, man, the queer metaphor that feels like it's pushing at the seams of this scene. Especially since it's followed up by still-in-denial Rand hooking up with Selene/Lanfear in the dream she creates for him.

I wonder if Logain actually IS genetically related to LTT (as he claims here). The lore is that the Dragon killed his entire bloodline but... yeah, idk. We know that reincarnation is not related to bloodline but there is a genetic element to channeling.

Mat not able to summon up his courage to go talk to Egwene because he's been fed poison for months that's convinced him she wouldn't want him around. 😭

Min-Mat romance shot down again.

Ishy looks a bit weary here at the start. Maybe because he thinks one of his ta'veren is dead/lost in the Arches?

Ishy doing his best to make Perrin believe that the wolf stuff is directly tied to the Shadow. And Perrin is the first of the ta'veren to learn that Rand didn't actually defeat the Dark One at the Eye last season, so now he thinks Rand died for nothing.

And now Elyas frees Perrin & only Perrin. He's no Darkfriend but he's narrowed down his list of those he cares about to wolf and wolf-related persons only.

And we learn about double-agent Min here.

Selene's inner Lanfear really jumping out in his most recent dream. And she is engaging hard in her LTT fantasies, plus pushing him to channel (and do something destructive because of his lack of control). This seems like something she did impulsively because she was mad at Rand for walking out on her earlier, so I think burning down the inn was not in her original plans.

Elayne's knowledge of White Tower history giving her a base of knowledge, and we see her show so much compassion to Egwene here. Such a good egg. 💜

Nynaeve putting Perrin & Mat into her happy fantasy world, and imagining Mat in such a loving way, giving him freedom over his life but a home base to return to as well. I do think that Nynaeve's world here is pure fantasy from her head and not an alternate reality because everything here is based on what Nynaeve knew and believed as of when she went into the Arches, rather than reflecting the whole world as it would exist, including what she didn't know at the time (aka Rand being alive).

So traumatic for our poor Nynaeve.

She had to know she couldn't actually bring her daughter through, but she couldn't not try.

2x04

Our big reveal episode for Lanfear. It does kinda crack me up that breaking out Lanfear was so epic and then he does the rest off-screen.

I do wonder what circumstances led to Lanfear being covered in blood when she was sealed up, because there did not seem to be blood involved when LTT & co sealed up Ishy in the 2x08 flashback. What was Lanfear up to when she was caught?

I really enjoy all the compare & contrast of the ways that having a channeler in the family can affect the family dynamic, depending on the families involved.

Oh hey chamberpot under the bed, just noticed that. Also poor Nynaeve and her PTSD from the Test. She looks so hollowed out.

Alanna's home seems so nice. ❤️

So Lan is on suicide watch, which he assures Alanna is not needed. Lan takes a moment to process what Alanna says about "your bond wasn't ripped from you, she took it." Given his reaction here, I think this might be the first time this belief of Alanna's has been directly mentioned to him (and she assumes this probably because of the conversation that she and Moiraine had about releasing the bond back in s1).

I think he's taking the opportunity to mine Alanna for information about Moiraine.

While Alanna spends time with her family, Moiraine avoids hers.

Okay, I feel like Barnathas was probably key to Lanfear's plans for Rand but Moiraine moved more quickly than anticipated. And we know that Rand was keeping his plans re: Logain away from 'Selene' (and she was very annoyed about it), so getting some info from Logain helped inadvertently ruin whatever specific plan Lanfear had originally envisioned here.

Going from Lan to Logain really does show us the difference in their mental states pretty clearly.

Egwene's mention of Rand here to Elayne is so nonspecific (someone I love more than anything) and I continue to be very curious how that whole situation will be handled in s3. I assume that Elayne knows by the time of 3x01 about Randgwene, since they were all traveling together for a month.

The wolf visions! I like that the wolves are just, like, sending vibes instead of talking.

Perrin also learns that he's been unintentionally sending his dreams to all the wolves. Very awkward for Perrin.

Hopper sharing his name. ❤️

So yeah, I think Lan is playing into Alanna & co's assumptions here while he bids his time to try to figure out what Moiraine is up to. He's being agreeable.

My current feeling about the bond is that Lan & Moiraine are just incredibly dramatic people and that's why we got the big rebonding scene in 2x08. Like renewing wedding vows. You were already married, you just wanted to recommit. I will continue to keep an eye on what Lan says or implies in the future, but I think it might just be masked this whole time.

Okay, my 2x03 theory about Liandrin is definitely out - I think the accelerated Seanchan kidnapping schedule is down to Liandrin needing to tell Ishy that she lost Nynaeve and then walking it back the next day (I'm assuming via dreams). Ishy doesn't trust her to do the job anymore and hands her task to Suroth, who is more directly under his nose. The timing doesn't work for it to be related to Rand & Lanfear's plotline.

Before the Test, Liandrin was acting like she had all the time in the world to train Nynaeve & mess with Mat's head. Nynaeve goes missing in the Arches and it's suddenly time to immediately toss Mat out on his ear, and then Nynaeve gets hustled off to the Seanchan basically as soon as possible after she comes back.

I think Lanfear keeps pushing the past love angle because she's trying to find LTT in Rand. But instead he just gets a little jealous (over himself lol).

Cute & casual Mat. ❤️

"I'm tired. I can't move."

So cute. Min doesn't appreciate it, but I do!

I do love the theme in this episode of the "Aes Sedai" curse, as Liandrin puts it, of watching their loved ones grow old & die while they stay young.

"The triumph of the Light over the Dark. And dessert after."

Worthy goals!

Anveare successfully blackmailing her big sister into spending time with her - good for her tbh. The family dynamics in this episode are so good. I do think this is what Lanfear would have failed to predict, yeah. Anveare and Logain are both pieces of the puzzle that led Moiraine to ruin Lanfear's big night with Rand.

Both Elayne & Rand talk in this episode about not getting to choose their own fate. Babies!

So Liandrin didn't seem surprised to see Egwene but Elayne is "a complication". It makes sense that she would assume that Egwene would come along with Nynaeve after that confrontation that she & Egwene had while Nynaeve was presumed dead. Elayne really IS a complication, considering how politically important she is.

Min actually struggling with her viewings instead of any struggle just being in her backstory: love it.

So... is Ishy trying to interrupt Lanfear's plans because he feels like she's getting too entrenched or does he have another motive for sending Mat to Cairhien? (secret Cauthor shipper Ishy)

This ploy of Lanfear's was really a very clever way to break through some of Rand's remaining emotional walls towards her. He gets to be her hero and then she gets that confession out of him that she wants so badly when she starts withholding herself from him due to her 'fear' over his 'madness'.

"You are the first woman who's ever seen me as a man. I didn't want you to see me as a monster."

I kinda broke this down as we were going along but: yeah, I really see it, how Rand's love for Egwene is tied to his boyhood and his dreams of a life in the Two Rivers. Egwene's first official act as a woman was to break up with Rand. For Egwene, I don't think that would at all stick out in her memory as A Big Thing, but it makes sense that it would for Rand. Especially since he had to let go of that dream of living with her in the Two Rivers as part of breaking out of Ishy's fake world in 1x08.

And now 'Selene' gets to be accepting of his nature (hoping it will lead to him accepting the truth of who/what she is).

It kinda sucks that Lanfear's romance advice here is actually quite good, because Rand now has a lot of reason not to trust it.

I really do not think this confession was actually gonna get Lanfear positive results even if Moiraine hadn't arrived when she did. Rand is already starting to freak out, even before the throat-slitting and all the blood.

But I guess that's why she tied Rand up. Insurance policy. Lanfear does believe in insurance policies. I'm gonna remember that for s3.

Poor Rand. What a devastating revelation.

[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.

[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."

[smilingformoney]

Die With a Smile

Chapter V. The Escape

Summary: Elliott and Mary make their escape, but they're not out of the woods yet.

AN: someone stop me I'm out of control, how is this chapter 10k words? PLEASE leave comments my friends, I didn't get any on the last chapter so it kind of feels like I'm shouting into the void 😢

CW: RAPE, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT.

Read on Ao3 or below the cut:

As the carriage made its way through the streets of London, Elliott took Mary’s hand in his and squeezed it reassuringly.

“You’re doing the right thing, Mary,” he said softly.

“He’s going to be so angry,” she replied, her voice trembling slightly. “What if he follows us?”

“He won’t. He knows we’re going away. As far as he’s aware, you’ll be back on Saturday. By the time he realises anything’s amiss, we’ll be married and there’ll be nothing he can do. Not even the great Judge Turpin.”

Mary sighed and shook her head. How had her life come to this?

Sensing her hesitation, Elliott put an arm around her and let her lean her head against his shoulder. He kissed the top of her head comfortingly.

“Just you wait, Mary. Soon enough we’ll be out of London and in the country. Aren’t you excited to see it all?”

“Oh, yes!” Mary nodded enthusiastically. She looked up at him with those big doe eyes of hers. “Will you really teach me to ride a horse?”

“Of course I will. You’ll be a natural, I’m sure of it. Just as you’re a natural at everything else I’ve taught you. Reading, sucking cock…”

“Elliott!”

Mary blushed, glancing over at Tommy who was asleep next to her, but Elliott just laughed as he leant down to kiss her neck.

“What? Don’t worry, he’s fast asleep. He’ll have no idea that his big sister’s a natural cocksucker.”

Mary squirmed uncomfortably in her seat as Elliott continued kissing her. She could hear Turpin’s voice ringing in her ears. Who taught you to do this, hm? Or are you just a natural?

“Elliott, I… I should tell you something.”

“Hm?” Elliott hummed, though he kept kissing her.

“When Lord Turpin called me in to see him after court yesterday, he… that is, we… well, I… did that. With him.”

Elliott froze. He pulled away from where he’d been kissing her neck, took back the arm that was around her shoulders, and Mary daren’t look at him.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “He - he asked me to kiss him as a thank you for letting me stay, so I did and - and he showed me he was erect and told me I had to do something about it. So I… used my mouth.”

Elliott was silent for a long moment. Then, he thumped the side of the carriage and swore loudly, making Mary jump.

“I’m so sorry, Elliott —”

“Don’t be. It’s him I’m angry at. Fucking cad. No wonder he proposed last night, he was probably thinking with his dick. I told you he only proposed because he wants to fuck you.”

Mary nodded glumly. “I think you’re right. When we went for that walk on Saturday, he told me he didn’t want a wife. He made it sound like being married is a chore. And the only thing that happened since then that might have changed his mind was - well - that.” She sighed. “I can’t believe I was so stupid to think he might…”

“Mary, you are not stupid,” Elliott said firmly, taking her hands in his. “I meant what I said, you really did pick up letters quickly - and, yes, the other things I taught you too. I mean, look what you did! It was you that connected Barker to that man’s disappearance, it was you that found out what he was up to. I’m sure my cousin will spend all week telling his important friends how he sent a serial killer to the gallows, but it wasn’t him, it was you.”

Mary sniffed and wiped a tear on the back of her sleeve. “I must be a little bit stupid. I didn’t realise you wanted me.”

“Of course I want you, silly girl,” Elliott said endearingly. He put his arm around her again and held her close. “I’d have to be stupid not to.”

Mary smiled and wrapped her arms around his waist, cuddling him as tight as she could.

“I hope you know what you’re getting yourself in for, then. Because I’m going to be the best wife for you, Elliott, you’ll see.”

Elliott chuckled and kissed her forehead.

“Good. I’m counting on it.”

- - -

Once the carriage had left the outskirts of London and was driving past the rolling fields of the English countryside, Mary’s mood lifted, as if the thick, smog-filled air of London had been weighing her down. She watched, wide-eyed, as the fields passed by the window, pointing out all the sights she saw and asking Elliott to identify the animals. Cows, sheep and horses were an everyday sight for him, but somehow Mary had a way of making them seem exciting and new.

By the time they came to approach the estate in Sussex, Tommy had woken up, and he and Mary were entertaining themselves with games they’d clearly invented together over the years. Elliott watched them with a smile on his face and an arm around Mary’s waist.

It was all so easy, he thought. He’d known these two street urchins less than a week, and already he felt so comfortable with them, he could almost trick himself into believing Mary was his wife and Tommy their son. When he closed his eyes at night, he imagined he was back home, with Mary by his side. He could see himself waking up next to her in his bed, making love sleepily before starting their day. They’d eat breakfast on the porch, watching the workers start their routines. Elliott might work on his ledgers while Mary made him a hat, or else he’d teach her to ride a horse, or take her out to meet a flock of his sheep.

Sometimes Elliott wondered if he might have been born on the wrong continent and he was better suited for America. One thing was for certain, though: Mary wasn’t meant to live on the streets of London. She was designed for the open air, to care for the animals Elliott kept, to care for him and the children they might have one day.

That was perhaps what angered him most at the thought of her marrying Turpin. He could accept her marrying someone else if he knew she’d be happy, but Mary, so wide-eyed and eager to see everything the world has to offer - she deserved more than to be trapped in a stuffy old house in London. No matter what promises Turpin made, unless he moved away from London - which Elliott knew would never happen - then Mary could never be truly happy with him.

“Elliott, look, we’re here!” Mary exclaimed, pointing out the window as the carriage passed through the gates to Ivy Manor, the home of Duke Beaumont, Elliott’s mother’s brother. He’d never met the man, but they’d written often ever since Elliott’s mother had died, and the trip to England was as much to visit him as it was to visit Turpin.

“Are you sure he won’t mind that we’re early?” Mary fretted. “What if he doesn’t have space and food enough for us?”

Elliott rubbed her back reassuringly. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, he’s a wealthy man, and he’s been begging me to visit for years. I’m sure he won’t mind if we arrive a day earlier than planned.”

“Alright,” Mary conceded, though she fiddled with her skirt anxiously. Elliott laid a hand over hers to still her movements. She looked up at him and smiled shyly. “Thank you for inviting us, Elliott.”

“Oh, please. I knew from the day we went to Camden together there was no way I’d be leaving London without you.”

“Wow, look, Molly! This place is huge!” Tommy gasped, his head sticking out the window.

“Tommy! Don’t stick your head out the window!” Mary admonished her little brother, but Elliott just laughed.

“He’s eagar to get out of this bloody carriage, I expect. I certainly am. My arse is sore, even with the cushions.”

Mary peered out the window - without sticking her head out completely like Tommy had - and she too was shocked at how large the Beaumont estate was. It seemed to go on for ages, and though the driveway seemed a mile long, the grand mansion at the end of it was clearly visible, watching over its surrounding lands.

The carriage eventually pulled up at the foot of the steps leading up to the front door. Their arrival had been seen in the distance, so even with the unexpectedness of their arrival, the Duke had plenty of time to send a servant down to greet them.

“Welcome to Ivy Manor,” said the servant with a bow. “Duke Beaumont extends his gratitude for your visit. Whom shall I say is calling?”

“Elliott Marston. He’s expecting me, though I’m a day early.”

“Very good, sir. As it happens, His Grace already had your rooms prepared. Come, let us take care of your bags; I’ll show you inside.”

Mary slipped her hand into the crook of Elliott’s elbow as they followed the servant into the manor house, through the extravagant entrance hall, and into a room furnished with several tables, more books on shelves than Mary had ever seen, and several sofas and armchairs gathered around a fireplace.

The servant offered seats to them all, and Mary sat next to Tommy on a sofa, while Elliott took a nearby armchair. As they waited to be greeted by the Duke, they were offered drinks, and a maid poured them each some tea.

“This is so fancy,” Tommy whispered to Mary.

Mary hushed him, but giggled. It was all rather strange. She’d never seen a place so large, or so fancy that even the servants seemed to be dressed nice. She and Tommy had bathed and put on clean clothes that morning, but still Mary wondered if they stuck out like a couple of street-dwelling sore thumbs.

“Elliott! Are you trying to confuse an old man?” a voice, booming but jovial, called across the room. “I read a letter to say you’re coming tomorrow only to hear not an hour later you’ve already arrived!”

Elliott stood and crossed the room with a grin to greet his uncle.

“Uncle Rupert. How good to finally see you.”

The two men shook hands and exchanged pleasantries, then Mary quickly stood and curtsied when Elliott led his uncle over to the fireside. She nudged Tommy with her foot to encourage him to stand up too.

“Ah, and this must be the, uh… friend, am I right?” said the Duke with a twinkle in his eye.

“Another slight change in circumstance since I wrote,” Elliott admitted. “Mary and I are engaged.”

“Ha! Couldn’t wait to pop the question, eh, lad? Well, I can’t blame you. A very charming young lady. A pleasure to meet you, Miss - forgive an old man his poor memory. What was your family name, dear?”

“Taylor, your Grace,” Mary said with a curtsey. “Mary Taylor. This is my brother, Tommy.”

“Um - hello, sir,” said Tommy with an awkward attempt at a bow.

Duke Beaumont looked between the two siblings with a curious smile. “Tommy, eh? Not Thomas?”

“Just Tommy, sir,” the young boy squeaked.

“Well, welcome, both of you! Once you’re married, you’ll be my niece and nephew as good as if you always were. When is the happy day, have we decided yet?”

“Actually, I had hoped to discuss that with you, Uncle. Perhaps Mary and Tommy could be shown to their rooms?”

Mary wanted to stay with Elliott, but he insisted on talking to his uncle alone. He didn’t want her to have to sit and listen to him tell another man about her life, and he certainly didn’t want Tommy to hear the detail of it all.

“What’s going on, then, lad? Why the sudden urgency to come here?” Duke Beaumont asked when they were finally alone and a servant had served them both a whisky. “Your letter said you hoped to propose here and marry within months.”

“My cousin happened,” Elliott replied, the bitterness evident in his voice. “He proposed to her yesterday afternoon, while I was at the Post Office sending my letter off to you.”

“Ah, I see. And she said no?”

“Well… she had no idea I was planning to propose. She has a great deal of respect and affection for my cousin - more than he deserves - and a proposal from a Lord isn’t something a woman of her station can readily turn down. She had every reason to accept his hand. Until, that was, I - rather selfishly, I suppose - told her my intentions. She was devastated. She wants to marry me, but she can’t simply renege on her promise. Unless, of course… she’s already married.”

“I see,” said the Duke, nodding thoughtfully. “So you want to marry before your cousin finds out?”

“Yes. He plans to marry her Monday. She’s supposed to return to London on Saturday. We must be married by then. Would you help us, Uncle? I know arranging a wedding at such short notice is a great ask, and I’ll cover any expense —”

“Nonsense!” the Duke barked. “Wedding planning is one of my wife’s favourite hobbies. She planned all the family weddings, and I’m sure she’ll be ready to spring into action once the rest of them get engaged. Two days to plan a wedding will be a thrilling challenge for her. And don’t you go harping on about expenses, dear boy. If you must feel guilt about the cost, think of it as a gift from me to your mother. I never saw Caroline again after she ran away to Australia to be with your father — I’m certain she’d fully support young Mary doing the same. Although, I must say —” The Duke leaned forward conspiratorially. “She is quite young.”

“I thought it was impolite to ask after a woman’s age?” Elliott said shortly.

The Duke let out a booming laugh. “Oh, yes, so it is! Forgive me. Well, quite. Let me speak to my wife. At such short notice the guest list might be rather small, but then again, one should never underestimate my wife’s ability to plan a party, or any nobleman’s willingness to shirk responsibility for an opportunity to eat my food and drink my wine. Does Miss Taylor have any family she’d want to invite?”

“Just the brother.”

“I see.” Duke Beaumont stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Taylor, hm? Rather, uh… occupational, isn’t it?”

“She’s a seamstress.”

“Ah! I see. So when you say you met her in the tailor’s shop —”

“I love her.”

Elliott froze, shocked at his own words, at how easily they’d slipped out. He cleared his throat, then said, “I don’t care how low her birth is, Uncle. I love her.”

Duke Beaumont smiled knowingly. “Of course you do, lad. You know, you’re just like your mother. Never heard of a nobleman called Marston, have you? Your father’s family were mere merchants, and your mother loved him all the better for it. Now look at you! Owning half of Australia, by the sounds of it! And I’m sure that lovely young wife of yours will make sure the name Marston holds great esteem in Australia for generations. Now, enough chit-chat, I’m sure you’ll want to see your room and I must deliver the exciting news to your Aunt Henrietta. Soon enough this place will be abuzz with excitement for your upcoming nuptials!”

- - -

Looking into the mirror, Mary hardly recognised the woman looking back at her. Her hair was clean and tidy, and she’d taken in her borrowed - now stolen, she supposed - dress to fit her properly. She wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to this, having access to clean water for washing, clean clothes that fit, and toothpaste to keep her mouth clean. She’d been able to wash herself fairly regularly thanks to Mrs Harris - an apprentice that smelt like the streets wasn’t great for business - but nothing like this. Mrs Harris had kept Mary clean enough to not stink; but these days, she smelt good.

Mary turned slightly to examine her body in the mirror. She’d put on a little weight, she was sure of it. Not a lot, but enough that she hadn’t had to take the dress in as much as she’d expected.

A maid knocked on the door and was apparently surprised to see that Mary had dressed herself. Instead, the girl sat Mary down at the vanity, and insisted she style her hair for her. Usually, Mary wore her hair quite simply, keeping it out of her face with braids so she could work without her hair falling into her face, but otherwise she didn’t style it or put it up as seemed to be the fashion lately. The maid knew nothing of Mary’s usual styling, so she took it upon herself to give her a more elaborate, embellished hairstyle.

When she was finished, Mary really didn’t recognise herself in the mirror. She felt like she was looking at another Mary in another world, one where she’d slept every night of her life in a warm bed and didn’t know what a rat tasted like to eat or the numbness of being wet and cold after hours of rain and nowhere to shelter.

“I almost didn’t recognise you,” Elliott murmured to her when he took a seat next to her at the breakfast table. “You look like you belong here.”

Mary rubbed her neck self-consciously. She felt so exposed with her hair all on her head and leaving her neck bare.

“I don’t feel it,” she admitted.

“Well, you’re by my side, so you must be where you belong.”

Mary giggled. “Elliott, stop it!”

“Merely stating facts, sweetheart,” Elliott said with a wink.

They’d had dinner with Duke Beaumont’s family the night before, so Mary at least didn’t feel she was entirely surrounded by strangers. Mary had noticed quite quickly when introductions were made before dinner that there were a lot of women in the house. Duke Beaumont, it transpired, had three daughters and no sons, and although each daughter was married, they still lived in the family home - it was, after all, more than large enough for even dozens of people to live without feeling crowded. Two daughters had a daughter of their own, one had two sons, and the Duke’s older sister, who’d never married, lived at home too.

Although Mary hadn’t had the opportunity to speak to everybody, those she had spoken to at dinner and afterwards had been nothing but welcoming and kind. Then again, Mary thought back to the reflection she’d met in the mirror that morning — she gave no sign that she was as far removed in class from the Beaumont family as she could possibly be.

Tommy had had something of a makeover too. His hair had been washed and even trimmed, and someone must have had some children’s clothes stashed somewhere, because he was wearing a shirt and waistcoat Mary had never seen on him, clean and perhaps even new.

Still, though they looked the part, and though everybody was lovely, Mary couldn’t help feeling like an imposter. She was terrified that she might do or say the wrong thing and give away her station, and she’d be sent back to London where she belonged.

If someone was going to accuse her of being a commoner, it wasn’t to be at breakfast. Once the plates were cleared and everyone began dispersing to go about their days, Elliott took Mary by the hand and led her away, giving her only a cheeky smirk when she asked where they were going.

He took her outside and, despite her begging him to tell her where they were going, he kept mum until he led her into an outbuilding and she saw, standing in individual stalls…

“Horses!” Mary gasped. “Oh, Elliott, look at them! They’re beautiful!”

“I do miss riding,” Elliott admitted as he approached a nearby horse and offered it some grain in exchange for a pat. “Galloping across my land, with the clear air and open space… there’s nothing quite like it. It’s the very opposite of London.”

“It must feel so freeing,” Mary sighed dreamily. She approached the horse Elliott was patting with a cautious admiration. “I can’t wait to see Australia with you, Elliott. You make it sound so wonderful. And for so much land to be yours!”

Elliott smiled with pride. “I love it there. You know, I’ve thought in the past about moving to America. But I’d have to sell my land, start afresh… and after this trip, I’m not sure I could bear to do that. Australia’s my home. I’d hate not to go back.”

There was a softness in the way he spoke so tenderly about his homeland, a vulnerability that Mary hadn’t seen in him before. It almost sounded as if he were talking about a person he loved.

She put an arm around his waist. Elliott blinked, surprised — she never initiated contact between them. It was always him who touched her, inviting her touch back. He never saw it as a reluctance to touch him, but simply as if she were always waiting for permission. But now, her arm was around him, her eyes gazing up at him adoringly.

“You know, I think you might be the most wonderful man I’ve ever met.”

It was the closest thing to a declaration of love Mary had ever said, and certainly the closest Elliott had heard said to him in a very long time. He grinned, and the horse whinnied in protest when Elliott pulled his hand away to instead stroke Mary’s face with a gentleness he hadn’t known he had.

“There’s no might about it for me, Mary. I know you’re the sweetest, kindest, bravest woman I’ve ever known. You deserve so much more than the hand you’ve been dealt. I can only hope I can give you a fraction of what you truly deserve.”

“I didn’t realise we were doing our wedding vows now,” Mary giggled. “Is this horse ordained, do you think?”

Elliott laughed. He kissed Mary on the forehead, then said to the horse, “What do you think, Reggie? Do you pronounce us man and wife?”

The horse whinnied, undoubtedly in response to its name, but that was good enough.

“I believe that means you may kiss the bride.”

“Oh, so you speak horse, do you?”

“I do, and he’s quite insistent that we kiss.”

“Well, alright, then. I wouldn’t want to upset Pastor Reggie.”

Mary leant up on her tip-toes to kiss Elliott, who wrapped his arms around her and held her close as he kissed her back. For a few moments they stayed like that, wrapped up in one another, the world outside their little bubble suddenly disappearing as they kissed, and it was only when Elliott felt his cock twitching that he reluctantly pulled away. As much as he wanted to bend her over a hay bale, he’d promised to wait, and Elliott Marston was a man of his word.

Besides, he’d already spilled his seed down her throat that morning, and as happy as he’d be to do it again, he’d brought Mary to the stables with something else in mind.

“So are you ready to learn to ride?”

- - -

Every day that Mary spent with Elliott seemed to be more wonderful than the last, but this was most certainly the best one yet. They spent hours out with the horses, Elliott most evidently in his element out in the open air on horseback. He seemed so much more comfortable here than he ever had in London, and although Mary did well to learn to ride on her own, there was no way she could keep up with Elliott as he galloped around the manor grounds.

“You don’t need to show off, you know, I already like you,” Mary teased when Elliott finally brought the horse to a stop next to her. Elliott just winked at her, dared her to a race back to the stable, and set off before Mary had a chance to respond.

“Hey, no fair!” she laughed as she quickly followed him, riding as fast as she could to try and catch up, but there was no beating a master. Elliott was already closing the stall door by the time Mary brought her horse into the stable.

“That was cheating, Elliott, I demand a rematch!”

“Tomorrow, sweetheart, I think we’ve worn these two out.”

Elliott helped Mary down from her horse, and she looked at him with suspicion.

“Well, that’s a convenient excuse, isn’t it?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Elliott said innocently as he led the horse into the stall to lock it back in.

“Well, fine, tomorrow it is. And I expect a fair race this time.”

Elliott laughed and put his hand on the small of her back as they left the stable and made their way back up towards the manor.

“Of course, darling. But the horses really must be tired, and I’m certainly hungry, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I suppose. We have been out here a long time. It seems a while since we stopped for lunch.”

“Dinner should be soon. We should have a wash first, no doubt we smell of horse. I wonder what Tommy’s been up to all day.”

“Well, why don’t we ask him, I can see him over there!” Mary pointed in the distance where she could see Tommy sitting on the steps leading up to the house. “Oh, dear, he’s all alone. I hope he hasn’t been waiting for us.”

As they approached, it became quite evident to Mary that Tommy had been waiting for them — as soon as he spotted them, he came running up to Mary and threw his arms around her waist.

“Oof! Careful, Tommy! Is something the matter?”

Tommy just sniffed, and Mary carefully extracted herself from his grip to bend down to his height.

“What’s wrong, Tom?”

Tommy glanced up at Elliott cautiously.

“Hey, it’s alright. You can trust Elliott, he’s gonna be your brother soon. What’s the matter?” Mary pressed.

“I hate it here, Molly,” Tommy grumbled. “The boys are so mean. They started asking me stuff like - like about our parents and about school. So I said we don’t got parents or money for school and I guess they figured we’re poor cus they started saying I should be in the kitchens and - and they said some really horrid things about you and Mr Marston. So I told them to stop being so mean about you and they was just laughing. So I left but this place is so big I got lost ‘til I came outside and I knew you was outside so I just waited.”

“Bloody imbeciles,” Elliott cursed. “Where are they? I’ll put them to rights.”

“Oh, Elliott, come now, let’s not start fighting,” Mary said. “Duke Beaumont’s being so kind to us, we don’t want to start arguing with his family.”

“Yes, my uncle has been kind. His good-for-nothing grandsons have not. I thought these rich twats were taught manners? Or is that a thing of the past? Tommy — don’t listen to a word those boys say. They don’t know anything about you. Your sister and I know you’re a smart lad, don’t we, Mary?”

“Yes, of course,” Mary said firmly. She stood up, trying not to let herself cry at the thought of the boys being so mean to her brother without her around to protect him, and took Tommy’s hand in hers to lead him back inside. “Come on, let’s go back inside. Elliott, do you think Edith would like a playmate?”

Elliott frowned slightly.

“The little girl,” Mary reminded him. “Honestly, Elliott, these are your cousins.”

“Well, there’s so bloody many of them! My uncle throws around so many names in his letters, I can’t keep up - this one’s married now, that one’s had a baby, this one’s gone off to travel the world. I just write back some congratulations and hope for the best.”

Mary laughed, but all the same, Elliott agreed that it would be a good idea to seek the little girl out. He grabbed a passing servant and told them to take Tommy to play with Edith, and Mary gave her brother another quick squeeze before he went off down the winding hallway.

“I’m still going to give those twats a piece of my mind,” Elliott grumbled as they set off in a different direction towards their rooms so they could wash themselves of the smell of horse. “Nobody in Australia would dare to be cruel to Tommy, you know. Once they know he’s my brother-in-law, they’ll know he’s under my protection. Nobody will dare harm either of you ever again.”

“Oh, they’ll cower at the name Elliott Marston, will they?” Mary teased.

“Will? They already do. Trust me, the moment you walk into any shop out there and introduce yourself as Mrs Marston, they’ll give you only the best. And if they don’t, you just tell me and I’ll double their rent for a year.”

“Elliott!” Mary laughed. “You can’t go around raising people’s rents just because they upset you.”

“Why not?” Elliott said indignantly. “They want to live on my land, they live by my rules, and the first rule is to always give me what I want. That’ll be the third rule now, of course, the first two will be to always give you and Tommy what you want. It’s a harsh terrain out there, but you’ll certainly never want for obedience.”

“I don’t care about that, Elliott.”

They stopped as they reached their rooms, across the hall from one another just as they had been in London, and Elliott smiled endearingly at Mary.

“I know, sweetheart. That’s part of what makes you so wonderfully you. I suppose this is where we part ways — unless, of course, you’d like to share a bath? Save on water and all that.”

“Oh, yes, I’m sure that’s exactly your concern. Nothing to do with getting me wet and naked, is it?”

“Darling, if I want you wet and naked, I need only ask,” Elliott said in a low voice. “Well, is that a yes?”

Mary glanced around the hallway to ensure nobody would see her going into Elliott’s room, then quickly followed him inside. Elliott called for a servant to run a bath, and if the servant that arrived thought anything of the fact Mary was in his room, she said nothing about it.

Elliott sat down on the edge of the bed to take his boots off. Mary approached him cautiously, uncertain of how to explain all the thoughts and feelings that were rushing through her.

“Elliott… I’ve had the most marvellous day with you today.”

He looked up at her and smiled.

“Good. I’m glad.”

“And - and you’re so good to Tommy. I hope you know how much I appreciate it. So often it’s felt as if I’m the only one who cares about him…”

“Hey,” Elliott said softly, holding his hand out to her. She took it, and he gently guided her to sit next to him on the bed. “He’s a good lad. He must be, if you’ve raised him. I know the two of you come as a package, and if I want to protect you, I’ll need to protect him too — which I do gladly, by the way, not out of some obligation. In fact, I was going to suggest this after the wedding, but… how would you feel if we adopted him?”

Mary’s eyes widened.

“Can - can we do that? Even if I’m his sister?”

“Yes, of course. He wouldn’t have to start calling us mother and father, but as far as the law would be concerned, that’s what we’d be.”

“Oh, Elliott!” Mary cried, throwing her arms around him and kissing him.

Elliott laughed between kisses, her adorable enthusiasm infectious.

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes! Oh, I had no idea I could even do that! I always feared someone else might adopt him and take him away — I had no idea I could adopt him!”

“Well, there might be some hurdles - you don’t legally exist, for one, we need to get you some documentation - Mary, I’m trying to talk to you!”

Her lips were on his neck now, kissing every inch of him she could find.

“Talk later,” she said between kisses.

“Alright, if you insist.”

Elliott flipped her over suddenly, causing her to squeal as she found herself on her back. He climbed on top of her, ready to combat her kisses with his own. To his surprise, Mary immediately reached for his belt and started tugging at it.

“Mary —”

“I want you,” she gasped. “I want this - you - all of you. Please.”

“Oh, Mary, you are trying my patience,” Elliott growled with frustration. “You can’t wait two days?”

“No, I want you now. Please, Elliott, don’t you want me?”

Elliott’s eyes darkened with lust. “Oh, yes. Yes, I want you, Mary - fuck, you don’t know how much I want you. But I need you to be sure, because once I fuck you, there’s no going back. You’ll be mine.”

“I’m already yours.”

And just like that, Elliott’s resolve melted away. He kissed her, his body pressing down on her, sandwiching her between him and the mattress. Mary wrapped her arms around his torso and began tugging at his shirt to loosen it from his waistband.

“Is there something you want, darling?” Elliott murmured as he detached his lips from hers to kiss her neck.

“Too many clothes,” Mary grumbled.

Elliott chuckled and sat up, looking her up and down appraisingly.

“I was just thinking the same thing. Get that dress off. I want to see all of you when I take you.”

He stood up and gave her space to stand as she tugged at the lace that secured her dress to her body. She was usually so deft with her fingers, but with desperate arousal coursing through her veins, she found herself suddenly clumsy.

Elliott, apparently, had no such problem. His shirt was off in a flash, and by the time Mary had pooled her dress at her feet and kicked it away, he was already fully naked.

“Let me help you with that,” he said in a low voice, tugging at the strings of her corset. He pulled it apart and tossed it aside, and he couldn’t help having a little grope of her breasts when they came free.

“And the rest,” he murmured.

She dropped her bloomers to the floor, and Elliott took her in his arms, kissing her passionately as his cock poked against her stomach. Mary went to take it in her hand, but he grabbed her wrist to stop her.

“Do that and I won’t last,” he said through gritted teeth. He picked her up by the hips easily with his large, strong hands, and laid her down on the bed with a surprising gentleness, letting her rest her head comfortably on the pillow.

As he climbed on top of her, Mary looked him up and down, drinking in the sight of him. Her heart raced a little. She was nervous, but excited too. And she knew it was right.

“You’re shivering, darling,” Elliott noticed as he leant down to place gentle kisses along her collarbone. “Are you cold?”

“I’m - I’m a little nervous,” Mary admitted.

“You have nothing to be nervous about,” Elliott promised her. “I’ll be gentle to start with. I’ll take you harder only when you tell me you’re ready. And if you want me to be gentle the whole time, then that’s what I’ll do. You just tell me what you want, alright?”

“Okay…”

“Good girl.”

He moved down her chest slightly to take her breast in his mouth while his fingers reached between her legs to stroke her, feeling how wet she was for him already.

“Is that all for me, darling?”

“Yes,” Mary panted. “All - all for you…”

“Mmm… I thought I’d have to get you ready, but perhaps not. You’re soaked. Are you really that desperate for me?”

“Yes, Elliott, please… please, I need you…”

Elliott wished he could burn this image into his memory, memorise every detail of the way she looked in that moment, lips parted, breath heavy, pupils blown, begging him to take her.

Of course, they’d have many, many more moments like this. It wouldn’t be the last time she’d beg for his cock, he’d make sure of that — but it was the first time, and it was her first time. And as the tip of his cock pressed against her entrance, with the way her legs instinctively spread wider and a small whine of need left her lips, it took all of Elliott’s willpower not to fuck hard into her right then.

Instead, he pushed gently, slowly, until her cunt succumbed to him, and he slipped the tip of his cock inside her sweet virgin cunt.

Fuck, she was wet. He could hardly tell she was a virgin with how easily he moved inside her. He had to move slowly, pushing gradually past her walls, muttering words of praise in her ear as he did so.

“That’s it… oh, good girl, Mary… you’re doing so well… fuck, I could live inside this cunt… you look so beautiful like this…”

Mary was amazed at how well Elliott fit inside her. He stretched her out just right, not so much to be painful, just enough to feel oh so good. She had wondered if he would fit, but he kept moving deeper inside her, and when he finally bottomed out, Mary felt so deliciously full.

“Fuck,” Elliott hissed. “Oh, Mary, you feel so… so good. So deliciously tight. How does it feel?”

“It’s good, I - I feel so full of you. I had no idea you could fit so well…”

“Mmm, you were made for me, I think,” Elliott murmured. He kissed her gently, his moustache tickling her skin. “I’m going to move now, okay?”

“Yes, please.”

Elliott smirked with pride at how desperate she sounded. He’d heard of women being in pain when they lost their virginity, but Mary showed no sign of discomfort. As he pulled back, his cock dragging across her walls, she let out a moan of pleasure he’d not heard from her before. Oh, she’d moaned and whined and come apart at his fingers or his tongue before, but this was something different — something new.

He set a steady, gentle pace, taking his time with each thrust, watching her face carefully as she reacted to each movement, her eyes half-closed as she savoured the new sensations. Finally, just as Elliott thought he couldn’t hold back any further, her eyes fluttered open and she looked at him.

“More…” she begged.

How could he deny her?

Elliott picked up the pace, one hand holding her in place by the hip, the other clinging onto her shoulder as he anchored himself to her.

He let out a low grunt with each thrust as he tried not to let himself cum too soon. He almost felt like a young man again, cock eager to burst after just a few minutes inside a cunt. And what a cunt, so wet for him, and so tight… and her moans were so sweet, her face so beautiful as she let the pleasure etch itself into her perfect features.

He’d fucked plenty of whores in his life, the last one only the day before he’d met Mary. But that was nothing like what was happening now. This was something he hadn’t done in a long time, not since his first wife had died… not just fucking, but making love.

Because oh, he loved her. Loved every last bit of her, her loyalty, her kindness, her heart. He loved the way she blushed when he muttered something dirty in her ear, loved the way she laughed, the way she put her whole heart into everything she did. And he admired the way she looked at the world, finding joy and wonder in even the simplest of things.

He loved her, and nothing else mattered. It was her, always her, and Elliott knew he would do anything for her. He’d burn the whole world to a crisp for her.

“Elliott, would - would you go faster?” Mary breathed.

“You want more, hm?” he mumbled before tugging on her earlobe with his teeth to tease her. “You want me to fuck you properly, is that it?”

“Yes, Elliott, please… don’t hold back.”

Elliott pushed himself up to his elbows and looked down at her with a wicked smirk.

“As you wish.”

He sat up, gripped her hips firmly, and, just as she’d asked, he gave her more. He fucked her hard, channelling everything he was feeling into his thrusts. His anger at his cousin, his sorrow as he missed home, his pent-up desire he’d been holding onto since the moment he met his future wife — and the love he felt for her, burning and passionate, that coursed through every inch of his body.

“Elliott, I - I —”

Mary could hardly get her words out, but she didn’t need to. He knew from the way her brow knotted and her moans increased in pitch. He knew very well by now when she was about to cum.

He pressed a thumb against her clit, giving her that added bit of pleasure, and with just a few circles of her sensitive little nub she was falling apart beneath him, her walls clamping down around his cock, and Elliott’s release came shortly after, his cock spurting inside her and filling her up as he had what was, most definitely, the most intense orgasm of his life.

Seeing someone usually so collected and in control as Elliott come apart because of her was one of the most beautiful sights Mary had ever seen. His jaw hung open as he groaned, his hips juddered, and she felt his seed filling her up just as, she knew now, it was always meant to.

Elliott all but collapsed on top of her, and it took all of the little energy he had left to pull his softening cock out of her and roll onto his back.

He laid there for a few moments, panting as he caught his breath. Mary laid an arm over his torso, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her to his chest as if worried she might go somewhere.

“I thought there’d be blood,” Mary said quietly.

Elliott opened his eyes and looked down. Sure enough, his cock was glistening only with a mixture of their juices, not a drop of red in sight.

“Women only bleed if they’re not prepared for it. You, my love, were very much prepared.” He smiled and kissed the top of her head. “You were marvellous, darling.”

“You weren’t too bad yourself.”

Elliott laughed.

“Cheeky girl,” he teased, leaning down slightly to kiss her properly.

“El, I - I was going to tell you something,” Mary said as she pushed herself up so they could kiss without craning their necks. “Before you distracted me, that is.”

“‘El’?” Elliott repeated with mild amusement.

“Oh, sorry - Elliott —”

“No, no, I like it. Go on. You were going to tell me something? Although, I must say, I’m pretty sure you were the one doing the distracting.”

“No, before that!” Mary laughed. “I was, um, working up the courage to say something.”

Elliott looked at her curiously as he played lazily with a strand of her hair. “Oh? And what’s that?”

“Well, I… I wanted to say… I love you, Elliott.”

He grinned then. Not the cocky, arrogant grin he usually sported, but one of true happiness, of joy that he couldn’t contain even if he tried.

“I love you too, Mary.”

Relief washed over her face, a joy as uncontainable as his.

“You do?”

“Yes, I do. Of course I do. Did you ever doubt it?”

“Well, I - I didn’t want to presume…”

“Presume?” Elliott laughed. He wrapped her in his arms and rolled her onto her back, peppering her face with kisses. “We run away to get married and you think it presumptuous to think I might be just a little bit madly in love with you?”

Mary laughed.

“Elliott, you’re tickling me!”

“Good. Maybe I’ll grow a full beard just to tickle you more.”

“Oh, no, but I like your whiskers how they are! I can’t imagine you with anything else.”

“Then you’ll have to get used to the tickling, I’m afraid.”

Elliott planted one last kiss to her lips, then said, “You know, I do believe someone was running us a bath. Perhaps we should use it before it gets too cold. We not only smell of horse, we now most definitely stink of sex, and we don’t want to bring that to the dinner table. We’re scandalous enough, don’t you think?”

Mary’s eyes widened, as if she’d completely forgotten there were other people around.

“Oh, no, do you think anyone heard us?”

“It’s only us in this wing. It seems my uncle thought of everything and made sure the newlyweds would have their space. Come on, let’s get cleaned up.”

Elliott climbed out of the bed, then offered Mary a hand up.

She took it gratefully and said, “But there are servants, what about the one that drew the bath? Oh, no, she was running it when we - do you think she —?”

Elliott laughed and pushed the bathroom door open. To Mary’s relief, it was empty, only the bath standing waiting for them.

“Big houses like these have hidden doors all over the place for staff to slip in and out. She was probably long gone. Come on - let’s get cleaned up. We need to look innocently chaste for dinner tonight.”

- - -

They managed to make themselves presentable enough in time for dinner, and Mary found herself more relaxed and comfortable than she had felt before among all these fancy people. She realised she didn’t care what they thought of her, if they judged her for her station, for her illiteracy — it didn’t matter. Because Elliott loved her. He loved her, and he was going to marry her, and they’d live happily ever after in Australia. Nothing could burst her bubble now.

After dinner, Mary went to the parlour room with the other ladies while the men stayed at the dinner table for a smoke. Tommy came too, and Mary was relieved to see that he’d made friends with Edith, even if she was five years younger. Even though he was getting closer to becoming a man every day, Tommy was still a boy, and she’d never been able to give him any toys. Edith had a surplus, and Tommy was ecstatic that she was willing to share her toys with him.

Once it came time to retire to bed, Mary went about her routine that was second nature to her by now. She went to her room, with the bed she’d never slept in, changed into her nightgown, and snuck across the hallway to wait for Elliott in his bed.

They made love again that night, and in the morning too. It was with great reluctance that Mary got out of the bed to go back to her room and get dressed for the day.

She spent the day helping Duchess Beaumont with the wedding planning. The invites had gone out the day before, and as the day went on people began arriving, Lords and Ladies that had no work to be doing, fulfilling the Duke’s prediction that nobles would take any opportunity to enjoy his hospitality. The rich loved a party, and weddings were the best of them, particularly when they were as intriguing as the wedding of Duke Beaumont’s runaway sister’s son from Australia.

In all the hubbub, Mary hardly got a chance to check on Tommy, though by the way he was chattering away with Leanne, the Duke’s fifteen-year-old granddaughter, at dinner, he seemed to have forgotten all about his upset the day before.

Mary eyed the grandsons, Samuel and Jonathan, a little wearily. They were probably around her age, given her estimate that she was eighteen, and they’d not said a word to her since her arrival. All she had to judge them on was their cruel behaviour to Tommy, so naturally, they were very low in her esteem.

In the parlour room after dinner, Mary found herself sitting by the windowsill with Leanne, who was trying her best to remember her etiquette lessons while probing Mary with questions. Mary, who had had no such lessons, thought it rather amusing the way the girl danced around the questions she clearly wanted to ask.

“Oh, but that’s so romantic!” Leanne gasped when Mary told her the story of her first meeting with Elliott. “He must have fallen in love with you at first sight! Most men don’t go around asking shop workers to dinner, you know.”

“Elliott’s not most men. He says, in Australia, there’s no such thing as Lords and Ladies. He says a person’s worth is measured by what they achieve. Isn’t that marvellous, that anybody can be somebody? Not the convicts, of course, but the settlers. I can’t wait to move out there with him!”

“Oh, but it’s so far away, though! I do hope you’ll write. I dare say having you and Elliott here has been the most exciting thing that’s happened here in months. All I ever get to do is lessons with the governess, and when social events come along, I dread them because father’s always trying to marry me off. I wish I could marry for love like you, Mary, I truly envy you that.”

Mary blinked. “You envy me?”

“Oh, yes!” Leanne said sincerely. “To love and be loved — to the point he’s willing to steal you away! Oh, it’s so romantic. And tomorrow you’ll get to really be together,” she giggled. “I wonder what his kisses are like with those whiskers?”

“His whiskers are rough, but his lips are much softer. I like the contrast.”

Leanne gaped at her. “You mean you’ve… kissed him? Already?! My goodness, they really do do things differently in London!”

“Oh, well, as I say… Elliott does things a little differently. It seems men and women are a bit more liberal with their affections in Australia.”

Leanne giggled. “How scandalous! Perhaps I’ll stow away in your luggage and leave for Australia with you. Although I’m not sure I could survive three months on a boat!”

Mary managed to avoid revealing to Leanne that she and Elliott had done a lot more than just kiss, but the girl seemed more than content with the fact they’d been kissing already. By the time it came time to retire to bed, Leanne was all giggled out, and Mary was looking forward to a good sleep.

She climbed into the bed in her room for the first time that night. She and Elliott had shirked tradition in almost every sense, but Mary didn’t want to risk the bad luck of seeing each other before the ceremony the next day, so she chose to sleep alone that night.

At least, she tried to sleep. She was buzzing with excitement, and by now she’d become used to having Elliott by her side, so the bed felt empty. It must have been past midnight and she was still awake, trying to calm her mind down into sleep, when she heard her door creak open.

She stayed still, trying to make out as if she were asleep. Could Elliott really not resist her for one single night when they’d be sleeping side by side for the rest of their lives?

Footsteps crossed the room quietly, as if trying not to wake her. She kept her eyes resolutely closed.

The duvet was pulled back, revealing her in nothing but her nightdress. A large hand took her by the hip and rolled her onto her front before pushing the hem of her nightdress up to bunch around her waist, revealing her nakedness beneath.

Mary heard the shuffle of fabric being removed behind her. Was Elliott really going to be so bold? Was he not even going to try to wake her?

She felt his weight on top of her as he positioned his body over hers, and his knees pushed her legs apart. He pulled her hips up towards him, and she felt the head of his cock pushing between her legs, positioning himself at her entrance.

 Mary opened her eyes now. She was face-down, so all she saw was pillow.

“Elliott —” she mumbled.

She heard a low chuckle from the man behind her.

It was familiar… but it wasn’t Elliott.

“Guess again,” the voice growled, and with a sudden thrust, he lodged his cock inside her, stretching her walls in a way that hurt more than Elliott’s had, as if the cock were even larger than his.

Mary remembered, with a sudden shock, whose cock was larger than Elliott’s.

She turned her head, trying to look over her shoulder, but Turpin pinned her down with a hand on the back of her head.

“Did you think you could betray me and I’d not hear about it?” Turpin growled in her ear. “I opened my home to you, and this is how you repay me, hm? By running off with my cousin? I don’t think so.”

He pulled back, then thrust into her again, and Mary cried out.

“Quiet, slut. People are trying to sleep. Now shut up and take your punishment.”

He set a harsh, punishing pace as he fucked her from behind, and when Mary couldn’t help crying out, Turpin put his hand over her mouth to shut her up.

“I said, shut. up. Not how you imagined losing your innocence, hm? Only good, obedient girls get to have a romantic wedding night with the Lord who so kindly took her in from the streets. Sluts like you get what they’re - fucking - given.”

She couldn’t tell him she wasn’t a virgin even if she wanted to, because his hand was still clamped over her mouth. And maybe she didn’t want to tell him, because that might make him even angrier.

“That’s it - that’s it, fucking take it. Take your Lord’s cock. Fuck, you’re tight. So tight around my cock. Mhm, I’m going to enjoy filling you with my babies. With a round belly - tits leaking milk - fuck, you’ll be glorious. I’ll fill you up over and over. Mhmm, Mary…”

Mary held onto the pillow, trying not to cry as Turpin violated her over and over, apparently indifferent to the fact she was suffering. This was nothing like it had been with Elliott, this was painful, this was wrong. This wasn’t making love. This was something worse, something she didn’t have a name for, but it wasn’t fucking either. It was cruelty.

Turpin took his hand away from her mouth. His urge to squeeze both her breasts in his hands was apparently too strong. They moved with every thrust, and despite Mary’s reluctance, her nipples were hard, and Turpin pinched them between his fingers, causing her to yelp in pain.

He didn’t try to shut her up again. Perhaps he was too lost in the moment to care if anyone would hear.

Instead, he just fucked her harder. The bed began to creak, the headboard making an unmistakable rhythmic slamming noise as it hit the wall with every thrust.

“Fuck - fuck, Mary - oh, I’m going to cum inside you. So deep inside you, you’ll be so full - so - fucking - full - of my cum! Fu-uuck!”

Turpin came loudly, his groans joining the slamming of the headboard and the slapping of their flesh in the cacophony of sounds, and Mary missed the sound of the door handle hitting the wall as it was thrown open.

She hardly had time to register what was happening. One moment, she could feel Turpin’s cock filling her up with his seed; the next, she heard the sound of a fist connecting with a face, and Turpin’s groan of pleasure turned into one of pain as his cock slipped out of her and he went tumbling onto the bed.

A hand grabbed Mary by her upper arm and pulled her to her feet. She stumbled as she stood, but when she saw that it really was Elliott this time, she cried out in relief and clung to him.

“Oh, Elliott! It’s not what it looks like —”

“No, I think it’s exactly what it looks like,” Elliott growled. Mary looked up at him, terrified, and realised that his anger wasn’t at her. While one arm wrapped protectively around her, the other was outstretched, pointing a gun firmly at Turpin, who was naked on Mary’s bed, cradling a bleeding nose, his cock flaccid and covered in blood.

“You dare to hit me?!” Turpin yelled. “What gives you the right —”

“Don’t fucking move!” Elliott yelled back as Turpin tried to stand up. “Don’t you dare fucking move, William, or I will shoot you. You absolute sack of shit. How dare you touch her? What gives you the right —”

“She’s mine, Elliott! Mine! Imagine my surprise, the very day I intend to send out wedding invitations, receiving one myself for my own betrothed’s wedding to my ungrateful thief of a cousin! I don’t suppose you thought to tell your dear mother’s family that you stole her from me, did you?”

“A woman is not a possession to be owned, William! Mary chose to leave with me! And no, I didn’t tell them, because this wedding is not about fear of you, it’s about our love for one another!”

“Love?!” Turpin scoffed. “You don’t love her. You just want what’s mine!”

“I LOVE HER!” Elliott yelled, the hand holding the gun shaking now. “Love may be an alien concept to you, cousin, and before I met Mary it was nothing to me, but she is love. She is everything that this rotten world is not and I will not have you turning the only good thing in this world into your personal sex slave, popping out as many babies as she can until you wither away and die!”

“You dare speak to me like this?” Turpin growled dangerously. “I am the law! I’ll have you hanged for this!”

“Stop it, both of you!” Mary sobbed. She released her grasp on Elliott and took a step back. “Look at you! You’re family! Close enough that Elliott spent three months on a boat just to visit! I can’t - I can’t live with myself to come between you. Please, please, don’t fight over me!”

“This isn’t just about you, Mary. He’s right - he can have anyone hanged on a whim if they get in his way, so nobody dares stand up to him. Well, I will. Face the truth, cousin! You’ll be dead in a few years, and you’ll die miserable and alone, because nobody could ever love you. Not Mary, not Johanna, not Lucy. Even your first wife threw herself in the Thames rather than spend another day with you.”

Turpin just smiled. A cruel, twisted smile, that struck fear deep into Mary’s heart.

“Yes… yes, I can have anyone hanged. Not you, no - that would be too easy. You wouldn’t suffer. I want you to go back to Australia, to your wooden shacks and your kangaroo shit, and I want you to live your life in utter misery, knowing the woman you covet so much belongs to me.”

“She would never —”

Turpin held up a hand to cut Elliott off, then turned his attention to Mary.

“Mary, my darling… I know Elliott makes life in Australia sound so exciting, but they live like primitives out there. You’ll be so much more comfortable in London. You’ll be a Lady, you’ll want for nothing, and your brother will get all the education he needs.”

“Tommy wants to go to Australia too,” Mary replied, her voice shaking as she stood up to Turpin for the first time. “We’ll be happy there. I’m sorry. We - we don’t want the life you live.”

“Oh, no, no, no, darling, you misunderstand.”

Turpin shuffled across the bed to sit in front of her on the edge of the mattress, smirking at her. Even with blood on his dick and smeared across his face, he still somehow managed to exude power, and Mary had to fight the urge to cower.

“If you marry Elliott, you may well be happy in Australia. But your brother… well, he’ll feel nothing. His last memory will be at the end of a rope.”

“No!” Mary cried.

“You wouldn’t dare!” Elliott said through gritted teeth.

Turpin ignored his cousin, his gaze set firmly on Mary.

“The Beadle’s taking him to London as we speak. I had to make sure I had some collateral. Come noon on Monday, either the chaplain will pronounce us man and wife… or the coroner will pronounce your brother dead.”

[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

[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.

[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

[mango-pup]

OK a good rant and a cry and a stomp did me the world of good it turns out. Last year did suck, next year is going to be better.

Rhu and I are going wild camping! Rhu's never been and I haven't been in 4 years and I'm excited to get back to it.

We're going to do long distance walks, probably the west Highland way. Its something I wanted to do with Mango but it would have been to much more her, but Rhu will thrive.

We're going to keep doing canicross! They are lovely people and Rhu loves it.

Blue and I have a brilliant dressage trainer who is much kinder and quieter and much more how I want to ride, so we're going to keep pursuing that.

My friend has a lovely new horse, and we're going to do so much hacking together again.

I'm going to invite other friends to come hack with us. We have amazing hacking so even though I don't have my own transport they can come to us.

[vanosslirious]

BBS Dialogue Prompts #389

BBS & Frouse Dialogue Prompts & Sentence Starters: [ 9 ]

SMII7Y

Now we have to figure out how to detonate it.

I might save that one for later.

Oh, there's a tool right there, kay, we're gonna try to grab it.

I see my opportunity now.

I was just gonna to shoot this, but now this makes more sense.

He's distracted, I have no idea what's happening.

Nope, it was definitely me.

Oh God, this door's locked.

We're gonna hope he's not going to lock on us.

He's not acting like he knows, but he definitely knows.

Oh God, hide in the trees.

We're gonna make the run for it.

Oh boy, we're not good, got greedy, shouldn't have gone for that.

He's literally destroying everything.

How did I destroy this last time?

What, is it invincible now?

Is there a car I can use, perhaps?

Alright, we're swimming.

You don't even have to tell me twice.

Let's see if it's worth destroying.

MOO

I don't want to do this.

We obviously have to make Pride.

It's anyone's guess.

We're back in the real world.

I can't even see what's going on.

You ain't never going to find me!

I'm not getting caught in there again.

I know, but there's only five seconds.

Oh, that was close.

Okay, so I missed a chair.

SOUP

If I want a crowbar? Hell yeah.

I ran myself over with the bike.

You guys want to hear my leaf blower?

Do you want to hear it on turbo mode?

So demanding.

My friend, I don't know.

I don't want to play this game, I don't like this game!

That's the Canadian in you coming out, you're being too kind.

You look sexy…I didn't get the bald memo.

The horse fucking killed me. 

H2ODELIRIOUS

I didn’t know you had that option!

It’s the only way you’re going to survive!

We’re dead, there was more than one.

I’m coming down, don’t worry.

Yeah, what are we doing?

I don't know what the fuck I am, fuck you guys!

They shot two of them and missed.

Someone come up here, I need backup.

I'm gonna toss a bucket in the closet.

Were you guys lying?

BYZE

No one man should have this power!

I know it does.

I did everything I could to get it away from me.

No, my artwork!

What's going on down there?

I found a thing.

I'm struggling with the input delay.

I can't control my frog legs.

Let me go, I'm one of you.

There's no way to fight it.

LEGIQN

I just jumped off the edge.

That's the worst play of all time.

Hey, are we inside each other?

He's playing the long game.

I need you to shut the fuck up.

Oh no, you did not just do that.

That's an upper decker.

Even though you're close to it.

Do you see where I'm at?

I don't know how I got there or why we can't now.

KRYOZ

Well, you know, that's what progression looks like.

Bro, just shoot it until you can't shoot it anymore.

I mean, I do hate you, as my boss, you do suck.

Okay, just let it spin.

Yeah, it sounded like mechanical failure.

Did that make any sense there?

Are we that dizzy right now?

It'd be so much less fun.

I'm part of the amusement ride, you have to turn it back on if you want me to go.

I can be here all day.

MS VIXEN

What are you doing, are you scared?

Is everyone alive?

He's dead!

We're so fucked.

Oh Lord, that means I'm gonna die.

Bitch, come out, I need to take your picture.

I took…the Goddamn picture, okay, let me out.

I hate you guys, uh-ah, I took a fucking picture.

Oh, I got it, motherfuckers, suck my dick!

Doesn't matter, motherfucker, that is three stars.

GRIZZY

You just have a shotgun pointed to your head.

Let it go, it was three years ago.

Is there only one take…and you failed it.

I see you like to do your own stunts.

That wasn't a flip.

I heard that giggle, bitch.

I like mine better.

He spent five hundred dollars on a dildo, yeah, I fucking believe it.

This is bullying.

I didn't see anything.

[aldieb]

i decided to try to volunteer at therapeutic riding again bc even though travel will be a huge time suck i’m depressed and want to see a horse and the dog shelter doesn’t seem to want volunteers. the last time i did this was 2021 but apparently i’m still allowed to just arrive and pick up shifts omg. everyone trust me with your vulnerable children and large animals no problem

[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.

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