#saddle bench

[voleuri]

Midcentury Family Room - Enclosed

Large mid-century modern enclosed family room photograph with white walls, a stone fireplace, no fireplace, and a wall-mounted tv.

[achievementthunter]

Midcentury Family Room - Enclosed Large mid-century modern enclosed family room photograph with white walls, a stone fireplace, no fireplace, and a wall-mounted tv.

[werecreature-addicted]

I remember some of your posts about a minotaur who lived with a peasant girl, can I ask for something about that? If it's not a bother of courseDue to the life that the minotaur has had, its instincts never appeared, that is, it never went through a stage of heat due to the stress and abuse to which it was subjected, but now everything is different, it is calmer, more relaxed, and it began to pay attention to a girl, specifically the girl she lives with, and apparently her instincts are beginning to appear, her body asks her to "mate" with her partner, although it is difficult to control herself, plus they are nothing yet and the girl does not know that minotaurs also go through a hot season, and it's not like she was going to ask him that, it would be very strange xd

(imagine that poor cock crying to enter the girl, but he must hide it, even if it is uncomfortable)

Sam master list for previous parts.

under the cut because this is long...for me at least.

Normally when it came to the physically demanding chores around the farm Sam liked to do the heavy lifting, literally. You were stronger than you looked but you still didn't have the monstrous strength that he did, and even besides that, he liked to spoil you. He'd never admit it out loud but he liked the way you sometimes watched him as he repaired the siding of a barn or hammered in a sense post. Something about the way your eyes followed him left a warm feeling in his belly. It's especially nice now that sometimes you kiss him after he's done a good job.

Now though, he just stands and stares as you work, nailing together bits of wood making your own saddle stand out of leftover bits of material. You looked so good, sweaty, and bent over your little bench. Is this how you felt when you watched him work? Sam doesn't even have the vocabulary to describe the strange heat that burns inside of him. He's supposed to be doing other work right now but he can't tear his eyes from you.

He wants to bend you over that saddle stand and- and what? He flinches back from the thought he didn't want to hurt you and he hates that his instincts are pushing him in that direction. But he wouldn't hurt you, his mind argues back. He wouldn't pin you down to hurt win a match or something. He'd be gentle. He'd pleasure you. Sam shudders. Where were these thoughts coming from?

His nostrils flare and even from across the barn, he can smell you and the salt of your sweat makes his cock throb. Sam sits down hard and pulls a nearby milk bucket over the large tent in his pants. He immediately feels stupid and tosses the pail aside, it did more to draw attention to his boner than hide it. He settles for just sitting awkwardly and hoping you don't notice.

How can Sam ever look you in the eye again after this? He supposes he shouldn't feel so guilty about being attracted to you but surely it's perverse to want you this badly when you're not even doing anything. At least if you were naked in bed trying to seduce him he'd have good reason to be this turned on. Sam shudders and replays the mental image of you, naked in bed, looking up at him trying to pull him towards you. Fuck he needed to get on top of you.

Just as that thought crossed his mind you bent over the waist-height wooden stand to grab something from your toolbox jutting your ass out in front of him. In a second Sam is on his feet, walking towards you before he can register what he's even doing, all he knows is that he needs you.

"oh, Sam-" you gasp, jumping a little when you turn to see him right behind you. For someone so big he moved silently. Sam takes a step forward and presses you back against the barn wall. "What's going on honey?" you ask trying to sound calm but you'd be lying if you said you weren't a little nervous about his behavior. Sam had always been so cautious with you, overly gentle and paranoid that he might hurt you by accident. The Sam you knew would never pin you against a wall like this, it was nervewracking but also exciting.

"I uhm I just wanted to be close to you I guess," he mumbled, lowering his snout to your shoulder as if he was smelling you. Sam steps closer and you feel something brush against your thigh at first you think it's his leg but you look down and realize it's his barely restrained cock poking into your thigh.

"Do- are you uhm in heat Sam?" You ask and the monster on top of you freezes.

"do- do minotaurs go into heat?" he asks puzzled.

"I guess I don't know but most monsters do have you really never gone into heat before?" You ask then wince, it made sense that he wouldn't go into heat when he was under such harsh conditions his body wouldn't let him go into such a vulnerable state.

"No," he said, his hips grinding softly against your thigh he groans at the friction and you can't help but shudder too. You might not go into heat but you did want him just as much. "Will you help me?" he asked desperately.

"yes- yeah, I'll help you let me just-" As soon as he has your consent all other thoughts fly out of his head. He pushes his mouth to yours kissing you and effectively shutting you up. This wasn't like any of the other soft and innocent kisses you and Sam had shared in the past this was heated, and needy and caused a warm heat to bloom inside of you. This isn't a kiss for the sake of kissing, this is a kiss that promises much much more to come.

Even desperate like this, Sam still tries to be gentle as he strips your clothes and kneels down so he can hook your legs over his broad, muscular shoulders, your back pressed to the wall of the barn he holds your weight easily.

"I'm going to get you nice and prepped for me, my cock is big and I need you to take every inch, okay?" he asks softly, kissing the soft skin of your inner thigh as his thick fingers ghost over your cunt.

"Hold my horns while you rid my face," Sam instructs. You look down at his horns, one normal and the other broken and jagged. You hesitated, you knew how much that broken horn hurt him and you didn't want to grab it, but before you could put much more thought into it Sam pressed his mouth to your cunt, running his large soft tongue over your folds getting you wet enough to slot his big fingers inside of you. You yelp and settle for holding on to his good horn with one hand and tangling your fingers in his hair with the other.

Sam's cock ached. He needed to be buried inside of you, but he held himself back. He imagined the pained squeak you'd make if he tried to fuck you without any prep and that was almost enough to snap him out of his lusty haze. Almost.

You lose count of how many times you cum as he stretches you out and gets you ready for his dick, eventually though he decides that you're ready for him, or he just gets tired of waiting. Your legs tremble and for a second you worry you're not going to be able to stand on your own but you needn't worry, Sam had no intention of letting you stand. he readjusts his grip so that your legs are over his forearms and he pins you against the wall again his cock nudging your opening, slipping up your pussy as he tries unsuccessfully to push into you. His cock head bumps your clit and you feel a pulse of warm precum ooze out onto your hot skin making you shudder, your thighs tense in his arms, and Sam grunts, spreading your legs a little further as he grinds his cock over your cunt again.

You reach between your two bodies and grasp his cock. You curse silently to yourself feeling the weight and girth of it for the first time. You stroke him a few times before you guide his dick inside of you.

Sam had been so careful to be gentle with you this whole time, but now that he feels your tight heat gripping him in a way he's never felt before he no longer has the restraint. His brain shuts off and he feels more like a beast than he has in years. Sam slams his hips against yours burying his cock to the hilt in one swift motion. You cry out and dig your nails into his biceps, holding on for dear life as he thrusts into you with all the strength of a bull plowing a field. You're pretty sure you hear something crack and for a minute you aren't sure if it's you or the barn wall behind you that's breaking.

Sam groans loudly as he sinks his cock into you over and over again. His hips have a mind of their own as they steadily rock back and forth. He hates to admit it, but every time you cry out in pleasure or in pain it makes his cock throb. He would have thought the sound of you hurting-hurting because of him, would be enough to break his heart instead it makes him whimper and only fuels his desire to fuck you harder and fill you with his cum until you were swollen with it.

The mental image of you bloated with his seed proves to be too much for him and with one more deep stroke he cums deep inside of you, his legs shake with the relief of finally breeding you. He pulls you away from the wall and crashes backward into a hay bail laying down to catch his breath while keeping you impaled on his cock.

It feels right to have you on his chest and be surrounded by the earthy comforting smell of hay and dirt. You shift a little and his hands fly up to your hips pushing you back down.

"Stay... please," he almost begs softly.

"I'm not going anywhere, Sam, I just want to get off your dick," you promise, trying to shift again. then he looks at you with the saddest most pleading look you've ever seen. his big brown cow eyes sparkling at you.

"Please don't, I want to be inside of you so you can feel me get hard again before I fuck you," he mumbles pleadingly. how could you say no to that face?

[bestoutdoorfurniture]

Customized Furniture

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[copperbadge]

I took a survey when I left the Country Music Hall of Fame that asked me about "artifacts" in the collection, which isn't wrong but did crack me up as a term to use, so here are two of my favorite weird artifacts:

The photo of the front seat of the car is just so unhinged. I'm going to do the description of it here because I want to make sure you guys notice that this is a white open-top car with front hybrid bench-bucket seats upholstered in leather, but that is where the normalcy ends. The door handles on both outside and inside are made of SIX SHOOTERS with mother-of-pearl grips, the sun shades are embossed leather flaps like cowboy boots might look if you flattened them, and between the two front seats where the gearshift normally goes is a large saddle covered in silver dollars. The horn of the western-style saddle might be the gearshift, it's tough to say. According to a placard nearby, this is the Nudie Mobile, so called because it was customized by "Nudie's Rodeo Tailors" which did a lot of early costume design for country performers.

This image looks more normal but I promise you it is not.

This is a Gibson F-5 mandolin, billed in the placard as the most famous mandolin in American music history, which seems like a low bar to clear, but I'm not a mandolin aficionado. Again, for an image ID, it is an extremely worn-looking eight-string instrument, a fairly standard modern mandolin. It has a number of bare patches and scratches on the soundboard. Wanna know why?

It's because this famous mandolin belonged to Bill Monroe, who bought it from a barbershop (how a Gibson made by Lloyd Loar got into a barbershop is a mystery) in the 40s. He played it for decades until 1985, when an intruder broke in and beat the mandolin to pieces with a fireplace poker. So what you're seeing in that image is the original Gibson -- reassembled from about 150 splintered pieces by Gibson company. Monroe kept playing it, including in recordings, until he died in 1996.

I have to say, I spent maybe five, ten minutes standing in front of it, leaning this way and that, looking like an idiot I'm sure as I tried to detect seams and cracks where it was reassembled, and whoever at Gibson put this back together did a spectacular job. For all it looks kicked to shit in this picture, it looks fantastic in person.

[hunnylagoon]

Take Me to War

PT2 Metaphor

Streamer! Ellie Williams x reader

Where do I pour my love if you take away my pen and paper?

Premise: You are starting to like your annoyingly loud neighbour more than you want to admit.

PT1 Here!

Warnings: Raunchy humour

The gym was busy on this particular day, I absentmindedly judged others for being at the gym at noon on a Saturday like they should have been doing something more interesting with their time until I realized I was at the gym at noon on a Saturday with no other plans for the rest of the day "And she's hot?" Abby asks me while she effortlessly benches something around 170 and I do nothing more than lean on the wall behind her.  

"She's hot," I answer, scrolling through her feed on Instagram like the weird little stalker I was. I hadn't gone full FBI, just looked her up and possibly watched some of her videos "It's kind of cool that I have an internet celebrity living next to me."

"Define cool," Abby props the bar back onto the saddles of the machine and sits up, taking a chug from her water bottle.

"She is cool," I defend "It's not that weird Minecraft roleplay that your grimy cousins watch, it's just like video games and vlogs, that kind of stuff."

Abby looks back at me, sweat drips from her blonde hairline and rests above her brow "How is that even a career?"

I shrug in response "Sponsorships and donations and shit." 

"Why do people throw so much money at streamers?"

"Parasocial relationships, I wrote an article about it last year which you said you read."

She sucks a sharp breath through her teeth "You were writing a lot of articles, hard to keep up with."

"Define a lot," I mock Abby's words. I glance at a guy in between the rows of gleaming machines, their metallic frames reflecting the obnoxious glow overhead. He had been using the leg press upside down, his neck hunched over into an almost horrifying posture, his shoulders pressing against the top plate. It might've been the most normal thing I've seen in New York.

"So are you going to ask her out?"

I wrinkle my nose, thinking about it "I met her last week, I just don't think I know her that well." Within the past week that I've met her, I've been crawling out to the fire escape every morning just so her drowsy eyes could peer into my vacant skull and in recent months I had given up on dating, like a spider, I devoured my own heart.

"That's kind of the point of dating," She lays back down on the bench press "Getting to know each other."

"I think I'm too busy to date," I tuck my phone into my pocket, crossing my arms while I watch Abby. I wasn't entirely sure that I was too busy to date but I tended to consume myself entirely and make everything far more complicated than it needed to be. I still perform autopsies on conversations I've had years ago, clinging to every word like I need them to survive.

"Why don't you wanna be happy?" She asks, furrowing her eyebrows "You're always getting in your own way, is it a tortured poet type of thing?"

My breath hitches in my throat. How I hate when she's right. The last serious relationship I had was in college and even then I had sabotaged myself, I didn't know where it came from other than a nagging feeling that I wasn't deserving of the love that had been offered up to me on a shining silver platter. "I do I'm-

"Just not ready?" Abby cuts me off, finishing my sentence so perfectly as if it had been words on a script for some boring play about a woman who hates her life and won't do anything about it.

"Yeah," I say, my voice is quiet, she's got me in a box here.

"If you're not ready to date, you might as well be friends with her," She puts the bar back onto the saddles but this time, stands up after completing her reps. "You need to get out and it seems like you get along well."

"I guess," I say and Abby raises an eyebrow "No, you're right, I need to dig myself out of the grave I've dug for myself." What added to my overly apathetic mood was the season, I was so sick of February. It felt like winter had forced mold to grow on my bones to way me down onto the dirty city pavement where careless New Yorkers would gladly stomp over my body.

"How's it going with the family?" Abby is writing something down in her notes which I assume is her number of sets and reps.

"Nothing new," I answer.

She peers at me over her phone, digging for a more solid answer "Are you still sending your parents money?"

"Yes-

"Why?" Her arms dropped to her side, her phone still in one hand "You shouldn't have to play caretaker for two people who don't care about you," As true as it was, it didn't hurt any less to hear it out of my best friend's mouth. 

"It's easier said than done, those are my parents," I'm almost overtaken by a delicate drowsiness from the thoughts of leaving behind the one connection I had to my small-town life. My parents were so careless that I would run around barefoot on the road with the neighbour's kids for hours, narrowly dodging cars that flew past us like it had been a game; everything was a game back then, when I came home to my father's drunkenness, I could hide away in the treehouse and read Harry Potter until the screaming came to a stop.

I was bonded to them like I was to the stray cats who raised me. There was no getting rid of them, we ricocheted between hatred and love like the game of catch I never got to play.  

"I'm sorry," She says though I know it is ingenuine "I shouldn't get in between your family."

Abby didn't know them the same way I did. All she knew was the bloodiness of the relationship that I had cried into her arms, she didn't know how kind the wolves were after they tore me apart. The way my father would cheer for me the loudest at my soccer games and how my mother baked for me after a fight, wasn't the apology that I yearned for but the one that was shoved down my throat.

I dug through my brain to search for a way to change the topic "I saw Owen at the market yesterday and he said he wanted you to call him."

"You're fucking kidding."

My deadline had passed with no issue and I was finally blessing myself with a day where I wasn't chained to my desk. I could finally let my poor bloodshot eyes rest and for once I didn't have to drown them in eyedrops.

I was freshly out of the shower when I heard a knock at my door, Margot yelling at me to answer it. I slipped into a matching pyjama set that Abby gave me on my birthday, hurrying as fast as I could to the door. Margot's consistent screaming did nothing to aid this. 

Ellie was the last person I expected to see on the other side of the door but there she was. I couldn't help the smile that cracked onto my face "Am I the one being loud now?"

She grins at me "No-it's just that my chat has been begging for you to come back all week and I was wondering if you maybe wanted to do a stream with me?"

I looked down at what I was wearing and suddenly felt like the scrouge, all I was missing was a nightcap and a taper candle. "Can I change first?"

"Go ahead but I think this is one of your best looks."

"Really?" I raise an eyebrow "You have poor judgement since you've never seen me in anything other than pyjamas."

"We should probably fix that then."

"I guess we should." I smile. I decided against changing, it wasn't like I was going out, just heading to my friend's apartment that was three feet away.

"Say as much or as little as you want," She opens the door to let me in "I owe you big time," Ellie says this like I don't want excuses to spend time for her. Like I haven't been freezing my ass off every day just to talk to her when she watches the city wake up as she prepares to rest her head. 

Ellie's apartment is more lively than the last time I visited, she's adapted some plants that are already beginning to wilt "Have these been getting any sunlight?" 

She furrows her eyebrows "No? They're fake."

"Ellie," I stifle a laugh "I'm like ninety percent sure that fake plants don't wilt."

"Nuh-uh," She walks toward one just rubs its wilting leaf between her thumb and index, it begins to crumble in her hand and she sucks a sharp breath through her teeth "I guess they are real," Ellie pokes a finger into the bone dry soil and wipes the dirt onto her pants "How much do you know about plants?"

"I'm going to go out on a limb and guess more than you."

 She nods "Sounds about right," Ellie walks over to her sink to fill a Game of Thrones mug with water before circling back to water her plants "Drink up little buddies."

"looks like you need some sunlight too," I watch her attempt to revive the dying plants and 

"Yeah," She keeps hyper-focused on the plants but she cracks a small grin, I could've sworn her smile burnt down the library of Alexandria "I think I'm turning into a vampire."

"The sparkly kind?"

Ellie shakes her head as she stands back up to put the mug on the kitchen island "Like the guy from Sesame Street."

I wrinkle my nose "Yeah, you're looking kind of purple."

"Damn, I was worried you would notice," She smiles again as she opens the door to her office, the purple LED lights are still running but the overhead light is turned on and washes away the colour.

The second I step into the room, Ellie rushes ahead of me and almost jumps to grab the folding chair. She sits herself down and pats her fancy gaming chair for me to sit in it. "Guys, she came!" 

I stare at her, eyes wide, jaw slack. "Ellie."

"What?"

"Do you hear yourself?"

She takes a minute to think about it before nodding her head, I could see the exact moment it clicked "No, I hear it," She addresses the camera "Not like that guys but I don't know what she did with her day, not our business though."

Ellie looks at me like she's waiting for approval of her chosen words. After a moment's reflection, I answer dryly "Thanks." 

"Sorry for taking so long, I had to water some plants," She watches the chat bar scroll by, squinting before she leans back in her chair, hand running through her hair "No, that's not code for sex."

"Could be," I shrug.

"They wanna know what your name is."

"Top secret."

"Okay," She reads some more comments from the chat "Can you tell them what you do for work?"

"I'm a ghostwriter," I say, giving a little thumbs up. I saw myself in the monitor and wanted to throw my hands at myself for being so awkward.

"Spooky," Ellie smiles "She writes about people instead of interacting with them, that's why she's socially inept." She reaches for her soundboard and presses a button, sounding a prerecorded effect of a crowd cheering and laughing.

"She's never had a girl in her apartment, that's why she can't flirt." I counter as she throws her hands up, I can tell she's about to retort with something before I cut her off "So what were you doing before you kidnapped me?"

"Guys, I didn't kidnap her, she willingly walked in here without the use of excessive force and I have had many a girl in this apartment," Ellie tells the chat before clicking something on her screen "So, they send in videos and we have to not laugh, which isn't hard because they aren't very funny." 

"You're not funny either but they watch you," I tease, Ellie fights a smile trying to uphold our image of back and-forth pocking and prodding at one another.

"Laugh three times and you're out."

"Of the apartment?"

"No, you just laugh three times and you lose."

"What do I get if I don't lose?"

"Fuck, I dunno," She furrows her eyebrows, searching the room for something. Her eyes land on a small silver tin, she snatches it up into the palm of her pale hand and sits back down "You get my dill dough."

"I'm sorry!?" My head snaps to look at her "Are you sure you aren't a cam girl?"

"No," She pauses "No, I mean no it's not what you think, yes," Ellie backtracks again "I mean I am sure I'm not a cam girl, not that that I'm not sure I'm not a cam girl, because I'm not," She looks like she's sure of what she said like it made perfect sense "Not a cam girl."

"You're not-not a cam girl?" I ask, pointing out the double negative "So you are a cam girl?"

"No," Ellie runs a hand down her face "Can you guys please tell her that I'm not a cam girl?"

Dcknb4llz:She's a cam girl

Nataliadepressed:I just subbed to her only fans!

Mclovin_fury26:She just wants to show you her dill dough 😕

Yayayalorde:I wish she was a cam girl 

The3nd_isn3ar:Ellie pls stop joking about it and become a cam girl already 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

Ewmarryme:hahaha Ellie ur so funny now get serious and make an onlyfans

"Anyways," Ellie ignores the chat as they clearly aren't helping her case "This is my dill dough," She shows me the small tin she picked up, there's a picture of a pickle on the front. Over the translucent lid, it surely enough says 'Dill Dough! pickle scented'. It was just green silly putty with an oddly incredulous name.

"I weirdly want that," I answer.

"If you win, it's yours." She tucks it away into the pocket of her sweatpants "Mods, let's get this moving."

We sit through about fifteen minutes of videos; mainly people getting hurt, occasionally one of some type of animal. Nothing funny enough to make either of us laugh except for one of a man falling through a glass table which gets a little chuckle out of Ellie who denies it. 

Another video began playing, it was Ellie in this exact spot, screaming during a game of Fortnite. It looks like it's from the first time she showed me her odd job choice. In the distance, you can hear a knock on the door and this is when I'm sure it's from the day I had been thinking of. Ellie pulls her headphones off and looks at her camera "Shit, I think that's my hot neighbour again."

I slap a hand over my mouth and turn to see Ellie who's looking disappointed at her chat, shaking her head at the camera. "Whoever sent that is fake as fuck."

"So you think I'm hot?"

"Pfft, no, dude, you're ugly as fuck," Ellie makes an overexaggerated confused face like she has no idea what I'm talking about "I was talking about my other neighbour."

Kaylnncourting:Ellie y r u fumbling so bad???????

Overdam00n:You guys were right for saying she doesn't get 🐱🐱🐱🐱

Sestwouth:bruh she's ruining it for herself

Connerstollit:WHY DID SHE SAY THAT 

Cruel_summer:What is wrong with Ellie? Genuinely

F0gg4t:If El doesn't want her, I do

Aliinnnnnaaaaa:First girl she's ever met and she's ruining it

Randelwthehandle:Ugly as fuck??????? who says that 😭😭

Dcknb4llz:wow nice cover up Ellie

Marie_739:Bro Im gonna start calling the girls I like ugly as fuck

"Mr. Quigley?" I ask to which Ellie nods immediately "You think the eighty-seven-year-old veteran who is missing a foot and has swallowed four of his teeth is hot?"

"Yeah," She says, immediately regretting the hole she was digging herself into "I have a thing for older men."

"I don't think you have a thing for men at all, actually."

Her eyes go wide, Ellie opens her mouth to say something and she leans forward in her chair so fast that she falls out and smacks her head on the desk, folding over and onto the ground. I have the biggest smile on my face as I reach for her soundboard and press the cheering crowd effect.  I'm laughing too hard to offer her help, clutching my stomach and keeling over so my head is out of frame. Ellie gets up, and puts herself back in the folding chair pointing at the camera "Do not clip that."

Almost seconds after she says that a video gets sent in of her smacking her head on the desk in slow motion while I burst out laughing and now I'm cackling even harder. You can even hear her yelp in slow motion and she sounds like the dinosaurs from Jurassic Park "You guys are way funnier than Ellie," I say, addressing whoever was watching the stream. 

Another video pops on the screen right after the last one ends, it's Ellie again. She screams at something on her computer and you can hear me bang on the wall on the other side. Ellie goes quiet immediately going back to her game and muttering "She's so hot guys."

"I think my mods hate me," Ellie shakes her head.

"Thank you mods!" I smile at the camera.

A little clip of Ellie back at her desk pops up, she's wearing a Garfield shirt. This time she isn't playing anything, she just sits in front of the camera with that familiar lopsided smile "Guys, how do I trick my neighbour into going out with me?"

There's another video, it's a longer one with the caption 'Ellie Williams calling her neighbour hot compilation' Ellie's eyes go wide and she clicks off the video immediately, the camera goes to us full screen. "That's enough of that."

I pull my phone out and type in the caption of the unfinished video into YouTube, it comes up right away and I click on it. Ellie clicks around on her computer, unaware of my viewing until she hears her voice, echoing in low quality from my phone. She reaches for my phone but I pull it closer to myself. 

I'm dead set on finishing the video until something on the other side of the door, catches my eye. It rushes past the small crack in the slightly ajar door and instinctively, I drop my phone with a slight jolt "What the fuck is that?"

Ellie takes this opportunity to snatch my phone and place it face down on the desk, out of my reach. "That's just Kitty." She pushes herself out of the folding chair and steps out of the room. She walks back in carrying what looks to be a mound of cotton balls, looking a little closer, I realize it's a rabbit. He looks more fluff than flesh.

"What the fuck," My mouth falls open in awe "Can I hold it?" She places him in my lap "He just walks around your apartment?"

She nods "He's litter trained so he just kinda hangs out." 

I pet him, he's soft as a million feathers, and he looks like a mascot for a paper towel company "You are the only person I know that would name their bunny Kitty."

Ellie tries to wipe off the mass amounts of rabbit fur on her, it seems the more she tries to get it off, the more firmly it refuses to budge. "This is a good time to show you guys this new shirt that Dina ordered for me," Ellie stands up walking off camera. She has a couple of Amazon boxes stacked on her couch, she reaches into one of them and pulls out a T-shirt. Ellie turns towards the wall so her back is facing me, she pulls her hoodie off over her head.

All I can see is the back of her sports bra but I force my eyes to go wide "Guys, Ellie Williams has a tramp stamp that says cum dumpster," I lie and the chat goes wild and I grab my phone off her desk as she turns around in her Five Nights at Freddie's tee with a 'Seriously?' face. I take a picture of her with the flash on "I'll sell this rare image of Ellie for six hundred dollars on eBay."

Ellie walks back over to the desk with a stack of Amazon boxes "Every donation goes toward my tattoo removal," She jokes, digging around in the boxes. "I'm a little over your videos, you bunch of snitches so I think it's about time I finally open these up." 

I look in the boxes too, leaning over slightly, being very careful of Kitty where he sits in my lap. I see something and pull it out to hand to Ellie "You should try this one."

"World's hottest gummy bear," She reads the package "Why is there only one? What if I want another?" Ellie yanks the gummy bear, squishing it between her fingers. It looks like Red-40 personified. 

Melanie_felony:She's setting her up lmao

Dcknb4llz:Nobody say anything pls I rlly wanna see this

Elliewsidechick:YALL SHES TOO WHITE FOR THIS STOP

She eats the gummy bear in one bite. As she begins to chew it, she seems absolutely unfazed and partially confused about why it was labelled 'World's Hottest Gummy Bear' A moment later she begins to cough, balling her hand up into a fist and pounding on her chest. Ellie's little cough quickly turns into a deep wheeze.

Ellie lets out a scream, her face going red as she slams her hand onto her desk with watering eyes. I could see visible sweat on her face as she dry heaved, it only took thirty seconds until she sprinted out of the room.

"Oh my god," I watch her run out of the room while I give Kitty a little pet between his ears, he's so still I almost think he's taxidermy. "Guys, I think we killed her." You can hear her vaguely screaming and gagging from the kitchen "So what did everyone do today?"

Thelastgreatamericandynasty:wrote a fanfic about you and Ellie

Dcknb4llz:I got jumped at waffle house 

"Yikes, sorry to hear that." I suck a breath through my teeth "Tell me what I should know about Ellie." Her name feels so right on my tongue.

Jesse_chang:She's a virgin

D4aughter_:OMG HI JESSE

A_birthday_card:The only s3x she's ever had was in Minecraft

Whathasshegot:She has a crush on you 

Touching_theyouth:She's lactose intolerant 

Dcknb4llz:She sold me ketamine in an ally 

Gusty_queefqueen:She homophonic 

Torxhmydreams2:Pretty sure that’s two words that have the same pronunciation but different meaning

Gusty_queefqueen:Bruh it means she doesn’t like gay people

Heytheredelilah7:She has a boyfriend

When Ellie comes back she's filled her Game of Thrones mug with milk and has a bag of shredded mozzarella cheese. She reads the chat "Can you guys be cool for once?"

"They're cooler than you."

"Very funny," Ellie eats a handful of mozzarella before she digs back in the boxes "What's next?" There's one box huge envelope that looks like it has a slip of cardboard in it. Ellie tears the corner open with her teeth and rips the rest of the top off with her hands. She pulls the content out of it, throwing the envelope over the computer for it to land on the ground. Just as suspected there was cardboard in it, not just a slip but it unfolded into a cardboard cut out of Ellie, she looked to be a younger teenager in it, giving an awkward little peace sign and showing her green braces off with a huge smile.

"Aww, you actually look cute in that."

She disregards me "Chat, interrogate Dina about this and report back."

"Dina?" I ask "Is that your girlfriend?"

"Nah," Ellie props up the cardboard cut-out and places it behind us, right in the middle to watch over us "She's my enemy as of right now."

"What did she do?"

"Send this shit," She eats some more mozzarella, holding the bag out to offer me some, to which I decline. Ellie shrugs it off and eats another handful, washing it down with a long chug of milk and putting it on the desk. She grabs a t-shirt, he eyes go wide and she pushes it against her chest so I can't see. "Are you ready?"

"Yes, ma'am," I watch a smile spread across her face as she turns the shirt around to show me a graphic of her on it. In the picture, her face is close up to the camera covered in a white powder (presumably flour). "Oh, wow!" I feign shock.

"I know!" She holds it out toward me "It's yours, you deserve it."

"Wow," I draw the word out, taking the shirt from Ellie "This is really great, I was always hoping I would get a shirt of you covered in flour." Sarcasm drips from tone but I accept the gift regardless.

"I know!" Ellie grins brightly "You should put it on now."

"That's fine, I think I'll save it for our date," I tease.

She perks up just the slightest "Ooo, when's that?"

"The second this stream ends."

"On that note," Ellie looks at the camera "Thank you guys for hopping on tonight and thank you to my neighbour who came here without putting up a fuss," Ellie clicks around on the screen a little bit before addressing them again "Alright, go bug Dina now."

With that the stream comes to a close, the blinking light on the camera turns off, and Ellie and I are left alone with ourselves and Kitty.

“So,” Ellie thumps her foot up and down repeatedly like those anxious kids in high school. “Do you maybe wanna get coffee tomorrow?”

“I don’t drink coffee but I’ll pretend to so I have an excuse to hangout with you.”

A smile splits onto Ellie’s face “Phew, I hate coffee I just thought it was an adult way to ask you out.”

A/N: This is super short but I’ll make up for it in the next part, thanks for reading! We got some angst on the way 👀

Perm tag-list: @veeveeisgay @whenlostinthedarkness @gold-dustwomxn @ellslvr

Series tag-list: @diddiqueen @camillecrellin @fullmachinegirl @eveshyper @lmaoo-spiderman @camicocom1a @elliessweetheart @melanie-watermelon @lanafresitas

[heartlaboratory]

In the short movie represented, taken from the university archive, you can look at a curious experiment that took place in the firs years of the '900, when physiologist were working on the relationship between electricity and the human body. A brief report accompanies the movie. Colette De La Beatrix was the countess of a small town called "Holy Lady in the Countryside", she was married to a professor of that time. Unfortunately at the age of 32 she suffered a terrible accident while riding her horse. She was embossed down from the saddle and the horse stomped her right in the center of her chest, destroying the frontal part of her rib cage. She was saved miraculously by the university's surgeon that had to remove her sternum leaving her most vital organ covered only by a thin layer of skin. Usually she wore an iron plate to cover and protect her exposed heart. Her husband convinced her to take advantage of the events and participate in his studies about electrophysiology. She happily took part to them and once results were gathered they decided to show them to the other professors and film the experiment. The movie starts with the countess sitting on a woodden bench. her entire chest is exposed and the shape of her beating heart is clearly visible. A rudimental microphone, linked to a gramophone, is held by a belt on the center of her chest and picks up her heartbeat. Two electrodes are attached on the oppiside sides of her heart linking the organ with what was probably a battery. The report is divided into different parts:

Initial- Countess initial heart rate: 85 bpm Showing the audience her condition and her synus rhythm at rest. Single electrical pulses are charged on her heart to demonstrate electricity can start artificial systoles. Audience is encouraged to feel the countess' carotid pulse to further proove the experiment effectiveness. This part ends with a note hand-written. "remember to tell the audience to never directly touch her heart to avoid dangerous ahrrythmias".

Part 2- Artificial pacing at 120bpm The machine delivers a series of consecutive impulses to create an artificial rhythm. The countess's heart reacts to each pulse correctly contracting in a new manually-induced pace. Audience is encouraged to feel the countess' carotid pulse under the influence of the continuous pulses. NOTE: After the pulses are interrupted the countess' heart recovers its initial pace immediately.

Part 3- Reaching physiological limit, 187bpm To demonstrate total control on the countess' heart rhythm the heart is artificially paced at her maximum heart rate (220 - her age 32). electrical pacing can realize the same results as a strenuous physical effort. The battery completely bypassed her local pacemaker. Audience is encouraged to feel the countess' carotid pulse and look at her beating heart. NOTE: Frank and Starling were right, the artificial rhythm seems hard to sustain for her system. The fast her heart gets the less efective its beating becomes. NOTE2: Her heart takes some long pauses in order to recover.

Part 4- Beyond physiological limits 240bpm The domain over her natural pacemaker is so absolute that its natural limit can be higly bypassed. The heart is paced at an innatural rhythm. Audience is encouraged to feel the countess' carotid pulse and look at her beating heart. NOTE: Audience report that just a very tiny wave of blood can be felt at her neck after each heart contraction. NOTE2: The countess's heart seems unable to follow each electrical pulse as some dyastoles seem abolished in a tetanus like manner. NOTE3: The procedure is interrupted as the countess lost consciousness for a brief period of time. NOTE4: Once the machine is turned off a long period of asystole is seen with subsequent ahrrythmias after the spontaneous pulsation restarted. Heart exhaustion? another hand-written part: "I should have never tried this on my wife"

What the report doesn't says is that countess Colette De La Beatrix died of sudden cardiac arrest few days late.

[mysticheathenn]

Mystery Pick-A-Card Reading

Hi, Hexlings!

This pick-a-card reading is about whatever the cards have to say. I shuffle the cards and whatever message comes out is your reading. This may be about love, academics, friendship/family, money, or careers. Whatever the cards have to say, will be said.

This is a general reading, remember to take what resonates and leave what does not. This reading does not supplement your need to seek professional help. Tarot should be used as entertainment and not a for sure answer to your problems but as a guide, a sense of hope, and amusement.

Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture that you can’t stop looking at. Listen to your intuition.

MasterList

Patreon Link

Ko-Fi Donations

Next Reading: Patreon Exclusive (I Haven't decided on a topic but if you have suggestions feel free to shoot them, doesn't have to be Patreon-related)

Pile l:

What is your Mystery Reading? Tarot: 7 of Swords, Hanged Man, 10 of Cups, Queen of Wands, 8 of Cups.

*Mr. Roger's Voice* I'm proud of you, I hope you know that (Meme). You are finally putting in the work, you're seeing your beautiful light in moving forward with achieving your goals. If you haven't started moving towards your goals or seeing the beauty in yourself, talents, etc, you soon will be. This energy feels more towards those who are starting to see the light after placing themselves on the bench for so long in not becoming their best version of themselves (don't have to be as many energies are in this reading). This could be anything for you maybe you gave up on yourself and fell into a deep depression, or you are tired of always trying and decided to take a pause. There's something in your energy before seeing the light pile l where you kept yourself in a shell, not moving forever stuck in limbo like the hanged man just waiting for whatever you were going through to pass. The movie Holes comes to mind where the little girl says "I'm tired of this grandpa." You are that little girl, but instead of giving up you are renewing your hope in achieving greatness. With all this cup energy this may have been your emotional health that has been keeping you from achieving your goals. Either way, you will or are finally seeing that anything is possible. You are able to do anything you put your mind to, and you're getting back on the saddle one more time because you are wanting to see yourself win. I get the sense that some of you had an epiphany where you had a dream, vision, a pep talk, something that sparked something in you to get up and do something instead of moping, being depressed, or having pity me moments. You are on your way to achieving your goals, don't stop this time. You have spirit on your side. They aren't going to let you fall. They know how tired you are. Sorry if this is all over the place, my fingers aren't moving as fast as the messages are downloading to me today, haha. I'm getting a last message that for some of you, this isn't even a goal this is more of you just getting out of your shell and seeing your beauty, talent, etc. For others of you, this is also just you getting out of your cacoon (depression, social anxiety, etc) and actually doing more than lying in bed, rotting away the day. You're starting to feel sudden changes within yourself and you are taking things day by day but slowly and surely you are hoping to win the race over your mental and emotional health.

Extra Messages: Moonology Oracle Deck: Step Outside Your Comfort Zone, Your Commitment is Being Tested, Time to Give Rather than Take.

As mentioned above you are finally stepping out and taking a risk and again if you already aren't doing so, this message has probably been either on your mind lately and you have been hesitant or this message is meant to be a pep talk to let you know that whatever effort you put your energy into you will not fail. You falter just a little bit but overall you are meant to achieve and do whatever it is you set your mind to. As the cards say your commitment is being tested. Spirit wants to see just how badly you really want your 10 of cups to happen. What are you willing to do in order to achieve it? What are you willing to overcome to see abundance? How much more can you really take? This is also a time for you to give yourself credit where it is due. Look at how far you have come in life and don't settle or falter back into old patterns, addictions, people who aren't good for you, etc. Keep moving forward.

Pile ll:

What is your Mystery Reading? Tarot:6 of Pentacles, 10 of Swords, 10 of Cups, The Magician, 3 of Pentacles

If you are wondering if you are on the right track, I am here to tell you that you are. You may have been questioning something lately whether you're on the right career track, should you eat healthy or continue eating junk, if leaving or getting into a certain relationship was a good idea...whatever it is..this is your sign that everything is working out in your favor and you are on the right track. Keep going. This feels like a continuation of Pile l but not in the sense that this is a part of it but more so if Pile l continued to show up for themselves Pile ll your reading would re-assure them that everything is on schedule and they will soon reap what they are about to sow. 3 of pentacles is all about achievement, artistry, recognition, etc whatever you have been working on will finally pay off and end a cycle of constant stress and financial hardship. Especially with the 6 of pentacles where you will soon have enough for not only yourself but to help out those you care about as well. For some of you, it has been your dream to "pay back" your parents, friends, etc, or just show those who have shown you love the same love they have shown you through gifts, money, etc and you haven't always had that unfortunately and it's made you feel some type of way sometimes. Soon you will be able to give more as you continue to receive more. For others of you this isn't even about wanting to treat others but more so yourself. You have been working hard and all you want to do is bask in the sense of peace, and financial stability, and maybe even travel. Overall hard times are ending and the party will soon be getting started pile ll.

Extra Messages: Moonology Oracle Deck: Take time to breathe out, A time for healing, emotions are running high

Anxiety and stress I sense is an all-time high for this pile. You have been stressing about what if this isn't going to work. What if I did all of this work for nothing? What if everyone who said I was crazy or doubted me ended up being right? Just as your cards say...take a deep breath in and out, take a walk somewhere, meditate, do yoga, anything that makes you feel relaxed. For some of you killing people in Sims 4 makes you relaxed or doing puzzles. Either way, take a step back for just a small second of your day and find your center to refocus your mind on things that are worthy of being focused on. Change your mindset from what ifs, negativity, etc, and change them to telling yourself how abundant you are, how grateful you are to even be in the position you are in being able to go after it is that you want, etc. Once you are done with all of that then keep going. Make sure you are taking time out of your day to remind yourself that you are doing a great job, you will end up where you are headed, and you have faith in yourself and the unknown. You are human and not a machine. Yes the grind doesn't stop, can't stop, won't stop. But you also need to make sure you are taken care of first before anything.

Pile lll:

What is your Mystery Reading? Tarot: 3 of Wands, The Sun, 2 of Pentacles, 4 of Cups, 7 of Swords (reversed)

You are a continuation of pile ll's extra messages pile lll. It's okay to pop out and see the sun every once in a while to take a breath of fresh air to remind yourself that everything happens for a reason (if you believe in that) and everything is going to work out. Whatever it is that has been troubling you it's not the end of the world. Even on stormy days the sun still peaks out through the clouds to let you know that sunny skies are ahead. Find your balance when you go through stormy days pile lll. You take everything as if it is a matter of life or death. You may be considered a serious person if not a serious person, life has been putting you through the wringer that you probably have so many stress lumps in your back and need a massage. Get out of your head once in a while and stop getting carried away with all of your thoughts. This message may be everywhere and it's mostly because you are just worried, bombarded with so many thoughts, etc everyone has a different situation so I am trying to make sure I get as much info as I can into this reading without it being 8 pages. I'm hearing "Stop letting your circumstances control you." You may tend to be the type of person who as soon as things don't go right or as planned your mood sours or if someone says something ignorant, rude, or dumb you instantly go into full rage, annoyance, etc. Find your center in not letting the small things, people, etc get to you so easily. My sister legit put herself in a self-induced coma because she let her surroundings, people, etc stress her out to the point her body couldn't handle it (she's fine now this happened 10 yrs ago, haha). Make sure you are feeding yourself good things not just food-wise but speaking positively to yourself. The things you watch, read, and listen to...make sure these things are feeding the part of you that needs to be nourished. Create a gratitude journal and list the many things you are grateful for...this can be as small as Starbucks creating pumpkin spice lattes. You have time. Everything is going to be okay. Also, this may be for only a few of you but stop watching rage-bating videos on TikTok. For others of you the last message I am receiving is you don't feel great about your circumstances, living situation, etc....know that this too shall pass. Find the silver lining through all the bullshit that is happening in your life. I know it's hard..but as mentioned it could be something as tiny as not having kids, cancer, or dying (even if you have your days when you wish you would).

Extra Messages: Moonology Oracle Deck: A fiery climax approaches, Meditate and contemplate, Don't let your past hold you back.

For your fiery climax approaches card I am sensing a release in emotions pile lll. You may have been feeling a lot of pent-up emotions and some of you may find it hard to release your emotions or you keep everything bottled up because of trauma either way a release is on its way to you in the healing process that you very much needed. Remember when I said to feed the parts of you that needs to be nourished with the things you watch, read, eat, and listen to...this is a season of healing. Pile lll....this is what I am feeling with your extra messages cards...this season you are entering you are healing parts of you, you didn't realize needed to be healed. Something is going to set of the chain reaction for this process of you being more conscious of the people you are around, eat, read, etc.

Thank you for liking and reblogging my readings. I always appreciate you guys on here and on Patreon.

Stay safe and be blessed

Next Reading: Patreon Related (I Haven't decided on a topic but if you have suggestions feel free to shoot them,doesn't have to be Patreon-related)

[bun-parade]

(Banner by @/cafekitsune)

I imagine Enji has this huge stockpile of super expensive, high-end sex toys cuz he has more than enough money to burn on them. I'm talkin' $500 vibrating wands that are small but pack more punch than your $50 Hitachi ever could. Fuck machines with every attachment imaginable so he can sit back and watch it pummel your insides as he strokes his huge cock. Those Bluetooth controlled fleshlight-dildo combos that sync to his thrusting so he can fuck you even when he's away on missions? He's got them too. He puts everything in a finger print-locked chest in the master bedroom.

Don't even get me started on sex furniture. Vibrating saddles, spanking benches, cages, suspension restraints that bolt into the ceiling; he's got EVERYTHING. Man has too much fuckin' money and he needs a pretty little thing with a wet cunt to spend it on and spoil.

[autotopic]

1938 Mercedes-Benz W154

In September 1936, the AIACR (Association Internationale des Automobile Clubs Reconnus), the governing body of motor racing, set the new Grand Prix regulations effective from 1938. Key stipulations included a maximum engine displacement of three liters for supercharged engines and 4.5 liters for naturally aspirated engines, with a minimum car weight ranging from 400 to 850 kilograms, depending on engine size.

By the end of the 1937 season, Mercedes-Benz engineers were already hard at work developing the new W154, exploring various ideas, including a naturally aspirated engine with a W24 configuration, a rear-mounted engine, direct fuel injection, and fully streamlined bodies. Ultimately, due to heat management considerations, they opted for an in-house developed 60-degree V12 engine designed by Albert Heess. This engine mirrored the displacement characteristics of the 1924 supercharged two-liter M 2 L 8 engine, with each of its 12 cylinders displacing 250 cc. Using glycol as a coolant allowed temperatures to reach up to 125°C. The engine featured four overhead camshafts operating 48 valves via forked rocker arms, with three cylinders combined under welded coolant jackets, and non-removable heads. It had a high-capacity lubrication system, circulating 100 liters of oil per minute, and initially utilized two single-stage superchargers, later replaced by a more efficient two-stage supercharger in 1939.

The first prototype engine ran on the test bench in January 1938, and by February 7, it had achieved a nearly trouble-free test run, producing 427 hp (314 kW) at 8,000 rpm. During the first half of the season, drivers such as Caracciola, Lang, von Brauchitsch, and Seaman had access to 430 hp (316 kW), which later increased to over 468 hp (344 kW). At the Reims circuit, Hermann Lang's W154 was equipped with the most powerful version, delivering 474 hp (349 kW) and reaching 283 km/h (176 mph) on the straights. Notably, the W154 was the first Mercedes-Benz racing car to feature a five-speed gearbox.

Max Wagner, tasked with designing the suspension, had an easier job than his counterparts working on the engine. He retained much of the advanced chassis architecture from the previous year's W125 but enhanced the torsional rigidity of the frame by 30 percent. The V12 engine was mounted low and at an angle, with the carburetor air intakes extending through the expanded radiator grille.

The driver sat to the right of the propeller shaft, and the W154's sleek body sat close to the ground, lower than the tops of its tires. This design gave the car a dynamic appearance and a low center of gravity. Both Manfred von Brauchitsch and Richard Seaman, whose technical insights were highly valued by Chief Engineer Rudolf Uhlenhaut, praised the car's excellent handling.

The W154 became the most successful Silver Arrow of its era. Rudolf Caracciola secured the 1938 European Championship title (as the World Championship did not yet exist), and the W154 won three of the four Grand Prix races that counted towards the championship.

To ensure proper weight distribution, a saddle tank was installed above the driver's legs. In 1939, the addition of a two-stage supercharger boosted the V12 engine, now named the M163, to 483 hp (355 kW) at 7,800 rpm. Despite the AIACR's efforts to curb the speed of Grand Prix cars, the new three-liter formula cars matched the lap times of the 1937 750-kg formula cars, demonstrating that their attempt was largely unsuccessful. Over the winter of 1938-39, the W154 saw several refinements, including a higher cowl line around the cockpit for improved driver safety and a small, streamlined instrument panel mounted to the saddle tank. As per Uhlenhaut’s philosophy, only essential information was displayed, centered around a large tachometer flanked by water and oil temperature gauges, ensuring the driver wasn't overwhelmed by unnecessary data.

[bullet-prooflove]

Texan Charm: Travis Wheatley x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @pear-1206 @keyweegirlie @nu1freakshow @trublu2u

Companion piece to:

Bronco - Travis falls in love when he sees you riding Bronco.

The Closest Thing To I Love You (NSFW) - Travis and you send the night together.

The Way All Cowboys Take Their Coffee - Travis and you discuss your relationship.

Travis falls even more in love with you after that first fuck. He knows he’s a goner the moment he gets into his truck and realises he doesn’t want to leave Montana. He’s never had an urge that strong before, one that makes him climb back out of his vehicle and knock on your door just so that he can ravish you all over again. When he does eventually get on the road, it’s with love mark over his heart and a smile that refuses to leave his face all the way through rodeo season.

He stays in contact daily, a text in the morning to let you know you’re his very first thought, one at night to remind you to have sweet dreams. He starts to take pictures throughout his journey, documenting his activities and you send a some too, mostly of you and Artemis. It warms his heart to see how much you love that horse.

It's when he gets back to Texas that he calls you for the first time. He’s sitting on the porch with a bottle of beer looking up at the stars when he slips his phone out of his coat pocket and dials your number. You pick up on the third ring and he smiles at the sound of your voice.

“Oh honey it’s criminal how much I miss you already.” He tells you as he leans against the porch post and listens to your laugh. It lights up something inside of him, a part of him he didn’t even know existed.

It’s a few months later that he’s back at Yellowstone. He’s just finished stabling the horses when you appear with Artemis in tow. She picks up the pace when she lays eyes on him, nickering a little. He approaches with open palms but already Artemis is snuffling around his jacket searching for sugar cubes.

“She’s missed you just as much as I have. It must be all that Texan charm.” You say as he removes one from his pocket and holds it out on his palm. She wolfs it down and he laughs at the sensation of her lips on his palm before he steps into the stall and begins to help you remove her kit.

“Oh darlin, you keep talking like that you’re gonna make me fall in love with you all over again.” He drawls as he unbuckles the saddle and hauls it off Artemis’s back, setting it down on the bench beside him. It’s when he glances up and sees the expression on your face that he realises what he’s said.

“Do you mean that?” You say softly and there’s such a vulnerability in you that it breaks Travis’s goddamn heart because the man before him, he didn’t love you, he didn’t know how.

“Honey, I’ve been in love with you since the day I saw you riding bronco.” He says, cradling your face between his hands. “The more I get to know you, the deeper I fall and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.”

“Travis…” You whisper and he kisses you then because it’s not enough for you to hear it, he needs you to feel it too. Your fingers tangle in his shirt, drawing him taut against you and he moans at the sensation because it’s been too long since he last touched you.

It’s Artemis that breaks the moment, her head gently butts against Travis’s shoulder indicating she wants attention from him and you both laugh as you draw apart.

“Now honey, if you excuse me I need to give this little one some affection before she starts raising hell.” He says, his hand stroking over the side of Artemis’s neck and your mare, she nuzzles closer.

“Travis.” You say quietly as he tilts his head towards you. “It goes both ways you know?”

“Oh I know honey.” Travis says as Artemis nudges him again. “Trust me I know.”

Love Travis? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Things Learned and Unlearned Ch. 1

Series Summary: Y/N has spent her life trying to outrun her mother's reputation. When she meets the rich and successful playboy, Dean Winchester, how quickly can he get her to stop running?

Pairings/Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N, Sam Winchester, Jessica Winchester, Lucy Winchester (OC)

Warnings: Each chapter will have it's own warnings, but there will be smut, seduction, virgin!reader, playboy!dean, Edwardian era BS attitudes surrounding sex and women. (Technically it's set in 1900 and the Edwardian era started in 1901, but you get it.) Angst, Fluff, all the good stuff that regularly pops up in my series. 😁

Chapter Warnings: None really in this first chapter.

Word Count: 2,656

A/N: Okay, so this is the series that I orphaned over on fanfiction.net and I conducted a poll on what people wanted me to do with it if I brought it over to Tumblr. Converting it into a Dean x Reader AU won quite handily. So, that's what I'm doing. I hope you enjoy.

Just so everyone knows, this is a historical AU set in 1900, and there is no hunting involved. (Though there is a family business. 😄)

Series Master List | Main Master List | Tag List

Dean Winchester was bored; he admitted it. He was bored of the balls, the soirees, the empty conversations, the glittering jewels and the painted smiles. He needed a break. So he'd left New York City and all its glamor and come to Newburgh to spend time with his brother, Sam, Sam's wife Jessica and their little girl, Lucy.

However, now that he was standing in the quiet train station, waiting for Sam to pick him up, he had to wonder what he'd been thinking. With the sleepy ticket agent sitting behind the counter, gently dozing, and an old man sitting on a bench, lazily browsing through a local newspaper, this no longer seemed like a solution to his restlessness and boredom. This place actually seemed like the town that boredom was born and raised in!

But what could it hurt to stay for a week or two? He'd visit with Sam and Jessica, see how much Lucy had grown in the last year and maybe it would wash away the taste of sweaty, over-crowded ballrooms and smoky parlors with too much lemon furniture polish.

He shook his head. He didn't know what had gotten into him lately. That life was all he'd ever been interested in. Certainly, he'd never wanted his brother's life. Slaving away at his private law firm, saddled with a wife and child, and living in the middle of nowhere, a six hour train ride away from civilization; it had always horrified him.

In the last few months, however, the idea of breathing fresh air, of laughing with and even arguing with his brother, of bouncing his niece on his knee, and even the idea of listening to Jessica's bouncy chatter, had been growing in his mind until it was a constant disruption in his thoughts. So, he'd left the reins of his family's shipping and trade business in the hands of his very capable manager and sent a telegram to Sam that he was coming to stay, and to pick him up at the station.

But Sam was late. Dean had been waiting nearly an hour. Tired of standing around, Dean decided to wander a little. He woke up the ticket agent briefly to ask if he could leave his suitcase behind the desk with a message for his brother. The agent yawned and gave him a pen and paper, reaching over to take his suitcase.

Sam,

Got tired of waiting for you. Went exploring. Be back in an hour - two o'clock.

D.

"Thanks." He said to the agent, and set off on his quest to cure his boredom. There had to be something in this town to interest him.

***

Y/N breathed in deeply, and let out a long sigh. The air was crisp, fall air that smelled faintly of damp leaves, spice, and wood smoke. It was a warm and inviting smell and it made the lonely chasm inside her heart widen.

"Miss Y/N, watch!"

Y/N gave her attention back to the little girl who was running down the hill, scattering the birds, and laughing loudly. She couldn't help but smile at the little hellion. It might not be very ladylike behavior, but she wasn't even four years old yet. Y/N decided to save the admonishment and let her be a carefree little girl while she could. These years of innocence and abandon were fleeting. The little one should enjoy them.

"Hello."

Y/N jumped abruptly at a man's deep voice. With a hand over her thumping heart, Y/N turned to scowl at the stranger who'd startled her. As she looked up into his face however, her scowl melted and her heart started beating hard enough to jump out of her chest.

The man was smiling at her, a smile that hitched up one side of his mouth and made Y/N's breath catch in her throat. He was very tall, towering above her where she sat on the park bench. The perfectly tailored, brown traveling coat he wore stretched across broad shoulders and narrowed in a V shape over his flat stomach. His wool pants were of very fine quality and accentuated the strength and muscle of the legs beneath them.

He was beautiful, there was no doubt, but his eyes were something more than beautiful. They were a bright emerald green, long-lashed and penetrating. They stared into Y/N, like he could see through to her back collar button. His eyes alone caused Y/N to blush and she realized she was blushing because there were promises in his eyes, promises of something dark and sensual and all consuming.

He was speaking. She tried to clear the buzzing in her brain so she could hear him.

…"Dean."

She shook her head. "What?" she asked quietly.

He chuckled softly and Y/N's stomach clenched at the sound.

"Dean. I said my name is Dean Winchester and I asked you for yours."

"Y/N!"

At the sound of her name, Y/N turned, thinking wildly for a moment that someone had simply been telling this man her name, but then she realized it was Mr. Winchester, her boss. And as she realized this, the name the man had just given her penetrated through the haze in her mind.

She looked back at the stranger. "Winchester?"

But he wasn't looking at her anymore; he was looking at her boss who was jogging slightly towards them. "Dean!" he called out. "You weren't at the station, so I thought I'd track you down. Sorry I'm late." Mr. Winchester threw his arms around the man and pulled him into what looked like a bone crushing hug. But the man simply pounded Mr. Winchester on the back before her boss turned to face her.

“You’ve met my brother?”

***

Dean closed the door of his wardrobe and leaned against it, closing his eyes so he could bring that perfect face into his mind's eye. Beautiful (y/c) eyes, soft features, and an incredibly succulent mouth. He'd immediately had plans for those perfect lips and he'd already begun imagining them beneath his own, or moving down his body, slowly…

Then suddenly, he'd heard his brother's voice and was crushed in an embrace. When he pulled away, he could see the woman (Y/N?) was blushing profusely and trying to stare a hole into the ground.

He had quickly learned this woman was governess to his niece, his brother making the formal introductions. Lucy came running over and launched herself into Dean's arms.

"Uncle Dean! What did you bring me?"

"Lucy, manners." Sam had scolded. 

But Dean chuckled, and pulled gently on one of her braids. "I have lots for you, kiddo, but it's back at the station."

So, Sam had herded them all back towards the station. He'd told Lucy and her governess that they should get into the carriage as well and ride home with them, but Y/N had refused quickly, blushing again.

"No. Thank you, Sir. You're very kind, but Lucy needs to stretch her legs and wear off her energy. We'll walk back. I'll have her ready for supper at six o'clock." With that she took off with Lucy's hand in hers, walking fast enough that the little girl had to jog a bit to keep up.

"What did you do?" Sam had asked immediately, cuffing Dean none too softly in the back of the head.

"What?" Dean asked innocently. "I barely said two words to the woman."

"Really?" Sam asked, disbelievingly. "Well, two words from you and my level-headed, almost stoic, governess has turned into a blushing school girl."

Dean had just grinned. Sam rolled his eyes and cuffed him again.

Now Dean was changed out of his traveling clothes and into a fresh suit having bathed and rested. And he was bored once again. Sam had returned to his office in town to see his last client of the day and Jessica was out paying calls. He wandered around their modest, but beautiful home, reacquainting himself with the warm wood floors, expensive oriental rugs, and the smell of freshly cut flowers that Jessica grew in a hothouse in the back.

After a half hour, he was officially restless and all the signs of his brother's apparent domestic bliss had him desperate to find a distraction.

He wandered into the library hoping to find a book that might do the trick. Instead he found the beautiful governess he'd met so briefly. She was sitting on a green chair in the corner. She had her legs tucked up on the seat and one stocking clad ankle was showing as it peaked out from beneath her skirts. Lucy was nowhere to be seen, and he assumed she was taking an afternoon nap.

His body thrummed with desire immediately and he had to give his head a shake. He wasn't some green boy about to lift his first skirts. He needed to get control of himself.

Then she looked up from her book, sensing him, and her look of surprise mixed with the innocent desire that flooded her gaze took that control away in an instant. He pictured pulling her into his arms, and ravishing her sweet, lush mouth, which was now open slightly in surprise.

He swallowed and cleared his throat. "I apologize, Miss Y/L/N. I seem to startle you each time I see you."

She closed her mouth and shook her head. "Not at all, Mr. Winchester. I'll leave you to your reading." She stood to go, but Dean leaned against the closed library door and crossed his arms.

"No, I'd like you to stay, please. Can you recommend a book? What are you reading?"

She took a moment before answering, swallowing several times. She held up the small book. "It's a book about biblical poetry."

"Oh?" Dean couldn't think of anything less interesting, but he moved to her side, and took the book from her hand as an excuse to get closer.

The scent of something sweet, but spicy hit him as he stood near her, making his head foggy, so it took him a moment to register what he was reading as he looked down at the page she'd been on, it was marked with a piece of ribbon.

Taking the ribbon out, he read the words again and then looked back at Y/N with an incredulous expression. "You were reading…this?" He turned the book back to her and pointed his finger at one passage in particular.

"Yes, that's right." Y/N confirmed. "I must confess, I'm not much of a poet, it all sounds fairly confusing to me. This poem talks about a man and woman who are gardening. What a mundane subject to write poetry about." She shrugged delicately. "But it is biblical, so I thought it could only enrich my mind."

Dean couldn't help the wicked grin that spread across his face. "This is the Song of Songs. It's love poetry."

Y/N looked puzzled. "Love? Of what, gardening?"

Dean's smile deepened. "It's written in metaphor. You know what a metaphor is, don't you?"

Y/N's expression became slightly annoyed. "Of course I know what a metaphor is, I'm a governess."

"Of course." Dean said and suddenly he had a wonderful idea. "Let me see if I can help you see the metaphor here. Sit back down, and allow me to read this section to you and see if you understand."

***

Y/N was trying hard to pull air into her lungs without appearing to pant. There must be something truly wrong with her that made these kind of thoughts run through her mind. She couldn't focus her gaze on anything. When she looked into his eyes, thoughts fled completely and her mind was just a rolling mass of red haze.

So, she tried to focus on his neck. But the column of his throat and square corner of his jaw, with it's slight shadow of stubble made her breath catch again. She looked lower to where his hands held the book. But his hands were large and his fingers were long and thick, with blunt squared tips. They made visions pop into her mind's eye, visions that no respectable lady would be having. She pictured those fingers taking hold of her hand, wrapping around it, she imagined the warmth of his skin on hers, and soon she was nothing but a mass of nerves again.

She was very proud of herself for getting words past her lips. But then he'd suggested he read to her and she heard herself agreeing. A part of her mind was telling her to simply leave, but she thought it might seem rude, he was the brother of her employer after all. So she sat.

He opened to her page and began:

Awake, north wind, and come, south wind! Blow on my garden, that its fragrance may spread everywhere. Let my beloved come into his garden and taste its choice fruits. I have come into my garden, my sister, my bride; I have gathered my myrrh with my spice. I have eaten my honeycomb and my honey; I have drunk my wine and my milk. I slept but my heart was awake. Listen! My beloved is knocking: "Open to me, my sister, my darling, my dove, my flawless one. My head is drenched with dew, my hair with the dampness of the night."

Y/N listened and the words themselves held no new meaning, she could find no metaphors in them. But she heard the husky timbre of his voice, heard the low rumble as his tongue and lips formed the words, and she suddenly knew that what he was saying was scandalous. She could hear the impropriety in his voice, knew it from the way it made her shiver. Quoting the bible shouldn't create such a hedonistic reaction!

She jumped to her feet, unsure of what her next move would be, but she knew she couldn't stay in this room alone with this man another minute.

Dean stood slowly, putting the book down.

"Did you like it?" He asked and his voice was rough and low, slow and drawling.

She shook her head. She definitely didn't like this feeling. Her head felt stuffed full of cotton and her body tingled. He stepped closer to her and reached out to take her hand.

It felt exactly as she had imagined. It was warm where his fingertips held hers.

"I just realized that when we were introduced earlier I was very rude. I didn't even offer a kiss for your hand."

He tugged gently on her hand and she shuffled forward until only a few inches separated them. Her breathing was rough and her mind screamed at her to pull away. But she didn't. Instead she watched as he brought the back of her hand up to meet his plump lips. They were smooth and warm, and his breath just heated her skin there.

He moved his lips slowly, turning her hand in his so he could kiss the inside pulse point of her wrist. She had to tell him to stop. He was behaving with unbelievable impropriety. But his lips…they moved again, grazing her skin as they did, up to the tip of her thumb. Then he kissed the tip of each finger, before grasping her hand more firmly and pulling her the last inch toward him, so that now she could feel the heat radiating off of him. He dipped his head and she felt his lips in the center of her palm. Suddenly she felt his tongue flick out briefly to taste her.

It was the jolt of fire that shot up her arm that brought her to her senses. She gasped loudly and wrenched her hand out of his. She stood frozen for a moment, staring at the mouth that had brought on such a feeling. Then, desperately, she bolted from the room, trying to outrun the image of the heat burning in those stunning green eyes and of the wide, sensual mouth she suddenly longed to feel against her own.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:

@lyarr24

@lacilou

@deans-spinster-witch

@globetrotter28

@suckitands33

@alwaystiredandconfused

@evznackles

@jackles010378

@impala67rollingthroughtown

@krazykelly

@candy-coated-misery0731

@envyaurora95

@spnwoman

@deans-baby-momma

@luvr4miya

@arcannaa

Dean Fics Only:

@roonthelittlespoon920

@slamminmine

@zepskies

@safiyas-world

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:

@kazsrm67

@slut-for-evans-stan

@sexyvixen7

@nancymcl

@hobby27

@waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits:

@k-slla

@leigh70

@eevvvaa

@kickingitwithkirk

@foxyjwls007

@notinthislife50

@roseblue373

@mishkatelwarriorgoddess

@avanatural

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

@deangirl96

[vixensbrainrotts]

Hello, Stranger - Shinichiro Sano

Content: Cheesy fluff

Tropes: fated ironical meeting

Warnings: none (?)

Summary: how the two of you met, once upon a closing-hour...

Vixen's two cents: I can't believe that it taken me so long to write a cheesy first meetings scene! anyway I love Shinichiro so have yet another fit about him whilst other characters rot in the background (I swear I wanna write for everyone). if you have any ideas (I kinda ran out rn) please send me an ask: REQUESTS ARE OPEN. yes, thats all and now enjoyyyy!!!!!

You had just recently bought out a shop, a quaint little thing that was akin to the one you would dream of when you were a little girl. It didn’t take long for you to become acquainted to the space over the holiday-period, which allowed you to get used to the space without the hassle of customers just yet. When however the first opening day comes and goes, you’re left tired and exhausted by the end of it. Business had been unexpectedly good, lots of people trickling in to visit the new coffee and cake shop.

You were just about done checking that every candle was extinguished, all the power was off but the coolers were still running, and that all the doors were locked when you stumble across a door you‘ve never seen before. It looks just like the rest of the installed doors, maybe a bit aged, but nothing out of the ordinary. The only issue was that you doesn’t remember this being part of the tour that you had been given when buying the shop.

A bit confused you go to get the big bundle of keys that you were given for „all the doors“ (whatever that meant now), and start fumbling with key by key to try and unlock that door. One after another key clinks unsuccessfully, but your hope to find out whats behind the mystery door stays strong.

—

Shinichiro was just about done for today, having thrown the towel when he couldn’t distinguish a nut from a bolt anymore, his vision swimming slightly. He was standing over the counter, checking things and notes off of his schedule and to do list, and writing up a new one for tomorrow. He‘s trying to focus, trying to remember what that one stupid saddle leather color was called that he had to order and eventually replace, when his ears caught some rather startling noises- keys rattling.

It was coming from a side door he was told was unusable by the previous shop owners when they sold the place to him. Due to an unfortunate run-in with Mikey’s little idiot friends some years ago, Shinichiro is quick to close the schedule, assuming that it must be thieves or burglars. He crosses the shop towards the door, grabbing a spare wrench from a nearby work-bench as arms and stalks towards the door, anticipating the worst.

—

You’re beyond frustrated at this point. What are the odds of choosing all the wrong keys in the way-too-big keychain consecutively? You glared down at the last possible key, hoping that just for the sake of your sanity this one would give way to what’s on the other side of that door. You don’t even care all that much anymore about what you’ll find, what’s important right now is that you can get the satisfaction of unlocking the mystery lock.

You take a deep breath and glance down at the key, pushing it into the lock and… it gives way. The key fits right in, and with a quick twist of your wrist you feel the lock click and open, and you feel yourself smile just a bit in victory.

Confident, you push open the door, but the smile upon your face drops fast when you hear a fierce yell, and duck instinctively when something comes flying your way. Your keychain goes flying out of your hands, skidding a few good meters across the floor and into the next, now open, room, right towards the stranger who attacked you with… a wrench?

—

Shinichiro looks down towards the target with wide, furious eyes, nostrils flared, ready to fight tooth and nail for his shop when he looks down at the 'threat' and realises that... youre not.... you dont look like... wait… aren’t you?? you’re...?!

that cute cafe owner from next door!

Shinichiro's eyes soften as he looks down at you, frozen in time and place for a few seconds, his voice stuck in his throat as he tries to process the situation. Once he found his voice again, he started sputtering apologies.

"Oh my god im so sorry, damn I didn't realise that - you know! fuck are you hurt? you've got great reflexes!" he apologetically rambles as he looks across the floor, trying to find the keys he heard drop. He's stumbling over his words, not really making any sense at all, a bit too caught up in trying to find those goddamned keys! to realize that your shock has worn off by now.

You're still sitting squat on the floor from how you'd dodged and fallen, softly giggling to yourself, both at the absurdity of the situation as well as his still constant muttering. Once his eyes catch the target, right beside his foot, he's scrambling to pick the jingling bundle up.

He straighents himself again, a little too quick and Shinichiro's world spins before his eyes as a painful crack! sounds from his back, causing your giggle to turn into a full laugh. Finally, he notices that youre not cursing him out, or mad, or anything like that. Quite the opposite, he thinks as his gaze traces your smiling lips, ears tingling at your cherry laugh. The merry noise makes his own lips curl up, and for a moment he forgets what he's doing.

"You’re ok." your voice is still shaky with laughter as you wipe tiny tears from your eyes, but it snapped him out of his little daze. "Right, uh, no not really you could have gotten really hurt." he says incessantly, stepping closer to you to hand you back the keys.

You only shake your head and smile at him though, reaching out to take the keys from him. He obliges, holding them out to you and he's about to apologise again when he feels your hand brush his.

It's only a short little moment, just a small caress of your much softer hands against his, but it causes his cheeks to tinge with warmth, and he feels his stomach burst with tiny little electric tingles, and then all of a sudden everything is spinning again, and he thinks he might throw up again because he's staring again, damnit!

"I- uh..." he tries to start, but you take the words out of his mouth when you smile up at him. "You know you've gotta let the keys go for me to take 'em... right?"

This time, Shinichiro feels his whole head go uncomfortably warm, and his heart feels like it's pounding out of his chest. "Sorry." he manages to blurt out, letting go of the keys but keeping his hand outstretched. "Lemme help you up?"

You pocket the huge keyring before wordlessly agreeing to his bid, taking his hand and letting him pull you to a stand. Shinichiro's breath hitches when the scent of your perfume wash over him, and he feels his mouth move before he can think of what he's saying. "Erm.. sorry but, you felt that too, right?"

[lucijawriteswords]

truck time | auston matthews

summary: you are met with a surprise as auston picks you up after practice, and a simple conversation about your game last night turns into so much more.

warnings: making out! so much angst. mutual pining, sexual tension, older brother's best friend auston, reader is insecure and always second guessing herself. a little fluffy here and there but really just a lot of angst and then a kiss at the end. very tame for me, i know. don't get used to it.

word count: 2.6k

A/N: hello hello hello! i'm sorry to have disappeared for so long. school is, as always, just a joy. and i have a new horse that i'm trying to put under saddle so that is taking just entirely too much of my time. anyways. enough about me! let's get to the story, shall we? apologies again because i did not edit this so there are likely typos. as always, let me know how you feel, what you want, who you want. i aim to please. thank you, as always, for reading, and now, enjoy the story!

you were trying hard not to cry, bouncing your throbbing leg, fidgeting with your fingernails. the bench of the picnic table you were sitting at was digging into your thighs and you knew the pattern was going to be pressed into your thighs, just another blemish amongst the bruises and blistered ankles of a hard, hard practice.

coach had skated you and your team hard today, citing last night’s game as the reason. a game you had won triumphantly, a 7-2 rout of the other team with two of your teammates getting hat tricks. but it was all in the third period. he said that if you and your teammates couldn’t produce consistently throughout all three periods, then winning didn’t even matter.

all you wanted after practice was a ride waiting for you, your sweet older brother john waiting in the car with your favorite food and open ears and seat heaters on. but he was busy, so he sent auston on his behalf. auston, who was, somehow, miraculously, free to pick up his best friend’s sister.

growing up, auston had seemed to be everywhere john was, and you were everywhere they were, despite being two years their junior. ice cream in the summer, family dinners, road trips, the summer fair- everywhere. auston and john had played hockey together until auston moved away during high school to play for the national program. since then, they’d stayed thick as thieves, and whenever auston somehow found himself back in arizona, he seemed to be everywhere john was, just like how it used to be. but now, here he was, without john in tow, picking you up from practice.

you heard the heavy tires and loud rumble of austin’s old truck, the one he kept here. the one you’d been in too many times to count. the door popped open and the thud of two heavy footfalls against pavement registered in your ears.

“hey, kid.” he drawled, the pet name ringing in your ears like a church bell, a welcome reprieve after the drilling whistles you’d been blasted with the past two hours. you grimaced in an attempt to smile.

he returned one, eyes questioning, before turning away and popping open the tailgate.

“hi.” you tossed your sticks in his general direction, hearing them clatter roughly into the bed. you bag followed suit, landing in the middle. auston’s head snapped up as he felt the tailgate sag as you hoisted yourself up, reaching for your bag to move it further up the bed. a warm hand stopped yours, hovering near the cloth handle.

"don’t worry about it, kid. i got this. just get in the truck.” his eyes were soft.

a soft smile- real this time- made its way onto your face, a quiet ‘ok’ leaving your lips as you slid off the tailgate and made your way around the side towards the passenger door.

sliding into the passenger seat and folding your legs up, your soft smile morphed into something more of a wince at the redness around your ankles. lace bite. you softy rubbed the fingers of one hand on the angry skin, the other hand reaching towards the center controls of the car for the seat heater, cranking it all the way up.

auston finally stopped fiddling in the trunk and snapped the cover down into place before shutting the tailgate. your eyes watched his figure in the rear view mirror as he made his way towards the front of the car. as he opened his door, your eyes (by no means on accident) raked across his shoulders and chest, noting the new fullness there.

“look strong, auston. they been working you hard up north?” his teeth flashed as he dropped himself into the seat, the truck bouncing under his bulk. he shook his head as he reached behind himself for his seatbelt, the smallest sliver of skin showing as his hoodie rose up. you found yourself drawing your legs closer to yourself.

“you know it, kid.”

“where’s j?” you wondered, pulling the arms of your sweatshirt down to cover your hands, impatiently waiting for the seat to warm you.

“he was running some errands before picking you up and got a flat on the highway. called a tow truck cause i guess he didn’t have a spare so he’s at the shop getting that fixed up. probably only an hour or two,” auston replied, hands flexing on the wheel as he pulled away from the curb.

“why didn’t he just call you?” you asked, shifting to face him, resting your head sideways against your headrest. “he wouldn’t have to pay you and you’d probably have it done before those guys at the shop even got the bolts out. you’re good at that type of thing.” he spared you a glance, a small grin breaking onto his face.

“why type of thing, exactly?”

you prickled under his gaze.

“oh, you know.” you returned, rubbing your thumb against the inside of your sweatshirt. “stuff with… your hands.” you trailed off, eyes falling and voice softening. something flickered in his gaze. he cleared his throat.

“how was practice?”

it was your turn to clear your throat. “bad,” you replied honestly, saw no benefit in keeping it from him. 

his gazed turned to you for a moment. “why? big win last night. you played like hell.”

your eyes widened, fixing themselves on his figure. “you were there?”

he scoffed. “course i was. cheered my ass off for you.”

you felt your mouth drop slightly, confusion pulling your eyebrows together. “i didn’t even know you were there,” you whispered, wonder laced in your tone. what would you have done, you wondered, if you had known? would you have scored four goals? five? would you have looked for him, for his figure in the stands, met his eyes with a smile? would you have walked out of the locker room, beaming and sweaty, to find him standing there, arms open, for you? 

you’d let go of those fantasies years ago. you’d always just been john’s little sister, ‘kid,’ the third wheel on their friendship bike. auston had been out of reach, unattainable- just two years older, but somehow a million light years away. you’d lived with feigned acceptance as girls came and went throughout highschool, had smiled and nodded and posed for pictures with them when they tagged along with you to auston and your brother’s games. you’d listened to their angry words when auston inevitably moved on, had let them drift away as plans for rides to games were no longer necessary, had monotonously deleted the photos on your phone. 

the fantasies, the dreams, the hazy imaginings of you in his jersey, cheering for him, traveling the continent with him, for him, sneaking onto the ice at whatever rink you found yourself at, just laughing and loving and reveling in each other. 

you’d pushed your feelings down for years, decided that once he moved to toronto, it was never going to happen. and so you loved him in secret, in childhood pictures in the collage of your phone background, in oddly timed facetime calls as he asked how to cook this, how to cook that, what the best way to get gear to stop stinking was. it never occurred to you that maybe, he was doing the same thing. 

you’d never dared to let yourself believe it before but maybe, just maybe, there was a reason auston had always moved on from  those girls. 

something different clouded auston’s voice, something gravelly and twisted. “what would you have done if you knew?” 

you laughed humorlessly, letting your head fall back against the weathered head rest. “not sure, aus. what would you have me do?” 

his response was instant. “i’d want you to look for me in the stands. wave at me or blow me a kiss or something.” he paused here, preparing himself- and you, quite possibly, for what he was about to admit. “i’d want you to come out of that locker room looking for me, with a big smile just for me. give me a hug, let me carry your bag and sticks to the car. maybe…” here he leveled you with a weary glance. “maybe let me kiss you goodnight when you get home.”

such honesty was not what you had expected. you were dumbfounded at the similarity between your fantasies, at the way they lined up perfectly, like the final edge piece of a puzzle snapping into place. your head lolled comfortably against the head rest, eyes boring into the faded ceiling of the cab. you realized, with a jolt, that you should probably say something. but you couldn’t figure out what.

“auston, i don’t know what to say… i never thought, no, well i mean i thought, but i never knew-”

he waved a hand at you, his jaw grinding as his adam’s apple worried his neck. “you don’t have to say anything. i shouldn’t have said anything. just want you to know. just… just want you.” his voice strained before dying with a crackle. he cleared his throat, resigning himself to stare at the road ahead, one hand gripping the wheel so tightly his knuckles shown white, the other fretting the hem of his sweatshirt. 

the silence grew and grew until the air shimmered and your seat was uncomfortable and your shirt was too tight. you, too, fidgeted, grumbling and cursing and trying to wriggle out of your sweatshirt, unclipping your seatbelt with a huff and tugging the thing over your head, too preoccupied with getting the heavy garment off to notice that your shirt was coming with it until you heard auston's muttered curse.

your face heated to an unbearable temperature, so hot that you had to crack the window. you dared to glance at him and found him with his jaw clenched, eyes locked firmly on the road, but the hand that had previously been playing with his hoodie was now sitting atop the center console.

"you're killing me, kid. that was mean. you gotta play fair," he grumbled, essentially whining at this point.

you didn't know what to say, so without giving yourself time to think or reconsider or second guess you laid your hand atop his, folding your fingers under his palm and lightly tracing the back of his hand with your thumb. you still said nothing. the only noise was the roaring of the tires against the road and the wind streaming in through your window, which did little to cool the suddenly far too hot car.

"i didn't do it on purpose." you whispered.

your eyes drifted to where your hands lay intertwined on the console before returning the road, nothing but field and dust and rocks behind, ahead, and beside you for miles.

you realized at the same time auston did.

your hand squeezed hard onto his as you felt the truck begin to slow and saw the turn signal lighting up the dark road as he pulled off onto some old, overgrown, unused farmhouse driveway.

the truck's engine purred softly before quieting, the whole thing rocking softly as he put it in park, twisting the key out of the ignition.

you gulped, gripped his hand tighter.

"do you-"

"i didn't-"

you pressed your lips together, a smile trying to fight it's way onto your face. he shook his head, lightly nodding towards you, signaling your you to speak. you shifted again, drawing your legs up onto the seat so that you were sitting criss-crossed, facing him.

you took a deep breath. "i didn't know you felt that way, auston. and i promise i wasn't trying to tease you just now. i just..." you trailed off, meeting his gaze to find his eyes already fixed on yours. you steadied yourself, bringing your other hand to where you were already holding one of his.

"i just didn't think that there was any way on earth that you could ever like me back. i've always been just john's little sister and my crush on you was just something that came naturally from you being my older brother's best friend. and then you left," your voiced cracked a little. his squeezed your hands lightly in his, bringing them to his mouth to press a light kiss to your knuckles.

you cleared your throat, sniffling. "you went to michigan. and then you got drafted. and i know it's only been a few years since then, and we're still really young, but i have never felt so strongly for anyone as i have for you. i mean-" a humorless, sobbed laugh. "i've never even liked anyone else. i've had to sit here and be friends with all your girls and now i have to stay here without you and it's been torture," you bit out, voice weak.

"every time you call me, asking for help to cook something or for girl advice it makes me want to claw my eyes out." you admitted, voice hoarse. "i hate that i'm not there with you, and stupidly, i hate that you have to call me if you need me. not- not me, i meant my help. i don't know, i'm rambling. but i just.... i really had no idea that you felt like that, and i've felt like that about you for my whole life and it just- i don't know. i'm gonna shut up." you trail off, eyes falling to your lap.

his hand around yours is warm, and it’s the only reminder that he is still in the vehicle with you because is completely, utterly, unnervingly silent.  you don’t dare to look up at him, scared of what you’ll find on his face, in his eyes.

some part of you is terrified that this is a sick joke, that he did this for a dare, because how in the world could auston possibly feel that way about you? about his best friends little sister? part of you believed that he still saw you as the gap toothed, pink waxed laces, smushed between them on the bench of auston’s first truck, pigtailed little girl. 

the silence was becoming unbearable. you lifted your head in exasperation, still too scared to meet his eyes. “auston, please say some-” 

you were cut off by the soft press of his lips against yours. his hand found a spot on the back of your neck, pulling you into him, drinking you in like you were oxygen. you sighed, loosing a breath you didn’t know you were holding on to as you melted into him, one of your hands wringing itself from his grasp to slide along his chest and fist in his sweatshirt there. 

the pieces of your heart, which you really hadn’t even known was broken, pulled themselves together, stitched themselves up with every press of his lips, every swipe of his tongue, every sharp breath through his nose, every groan as he fists your hair and pulls your head back to kiss you deeper than you thought was possible.

when you finally break apart, his eyes are glazed over with something that looks an awful lot like love. you can feel his heart beating rapidly underneath your hand on his chest.

and suddenly, there were no more unanswered questions, no more wishes and dreams of the shared life you both wanted. no more what-ifs and maybes. there was just this, just the two of you, together in his truck, surrounded by stars and the future.

[trlvsn]

as funny as the "phoenix giving edgeworth a whip" moment in aa2-4 was it is actually so important on an ideal level basically sums up phoenix's character development in that game. let me explain. the prosecutor that gets introduced to us in aa2 is franziska: a prodigy, daughter and successor of von karma, driven by the wrong ideas and using the wrong methods. the "wrongness" of her as a prosecutor is summed up by the whip - a tool that gives her power over the court, her main tactic she has been using all these years, a heritage, a pain, something she carries with her. the defense, on the other hand, is saddled with anger and sadness that come from a lack of understanding of miles edgeworth: why did he do this? was he really so foolishly prideful? could he not see himself be anything else than gant and von karma? was i foolish to see that in him?

but then, in aa2-4, edgeworth shows up and is neither his old self nor the new one. he is still a prosecutor, and he still helps phoenix subtly in the trial; he's still an ass, he's still wearing the cravat, but he is not on the same path as before. he claims to have learnt a lesson and intends to let phoenix learn it as well. he asks him: what kind of defense attorney do you want to be? the position you have will remain the same. you will still be at this bench. what can you do to deserve to stand there? what can you be? and the implications the question brings with it are more meaningful than the question itself: they mean you can be different kinds of a defense, they mean you can use the tools you have in entirely different ways.

so when phoenix gives the whip to franziska through miles edgeworth, he says "take the tool back. you have a hereditary power you could be using unfairly, waving it over everyone scarily, but you could take it back and do something with it. be a prosecutor. don't run. don't throw away what you have no matter who gave it to you; you are the whip's owner and you command it". he acknowledges the nuance of it all, and he acknowledges the fact that franziska does need to leave as well, do some soul-searching and find her own path. and when phoenix gives the whip to franziska, he does it through miles edgeworth, and with it, he says "i get it now".

[thatsdemko]

dicked down in Dallas - d.ricciardo

masterlist

requested: n

pairings: daniel ricciardo x fem!reader

warnings: + not intended for minors + mentions of oral (m receiving)

a/n: 🤠howdy partners let’s yee our haws together!!! also big shoutout to @diorleclerc for reading some of this xx luv u babes

《 the following content is not intended for minors. 》

She's probably in the Lonestar state

Sucking off ol' what's his name

everything is bigger in texas. whether that be the men, the food, or the cars. everything’s just bigger in the lonestar state.

and you’ve come to realize that, having never crossed the boarder to America until the opportunity to work in formula one, you took the chance having traveled the world twice over now, but texas was new. and boy, it didn’t disappoint to its name.

the cowboy boots and hats were no joke, they were everywhere. from the tiny bars to the gas stations, boots and a cowboy hat seemed to be the perfect attire to conquer the blistering sun.

“what do you reckon I buy one of those?” Daniel jokes pointing to the young boy who’s boots are up to his knees. they were caked in mud and the skin on the toe of the boots seemed to be fading.

“you? in cowboy boots?” you turn to him to see if he’s joking, but his eyes tell you he’s serious.

you’ve always had a little thing for Daniel. he just was so easy and approachable, people loved him and it was obvious why. you just didn’t expect that with more time your heart would grow fonder of his presence.

“why not? I think I’d look sexy.” he shrugs, two of you watch his dad fan himself with the brim of his hat. it seemed to be the texas heat was getting to the fans as well.

you think for a moment, trying to picture him in the boots, but your mind falls short, “I’d like to see it.” you turn back over to him. he just nods running his fingers over his beard.

you watch him for a moment, he’s humming a little country tune to himself he heard from the bars last night, before he struts off with a social media intern ready to take on the stage with Lando.

you’re not sure what you’ve got yourself into, but you know damn well your words got him thinking.

—

you hear the sounds of the horse shoes clicking against the pavement. it’s a bit of a different noise for a formula one circuit, but the laughter and excitement all sound the same. the sound of the horses breathing does make you turn around, and when you do you’re greeted go a big brown horse strut it’s way through the paddock with no one other than Daniel on top.

he’s shaved now, the only thing left is a goatee. he’s sporting a tan colored cowboy hat, a jacket of the American flag, and of course, those cowboy boots.

“you want a ride, baby girl?” he jokes as the horse comes to a halt in front of you. you can’t help but laugh at how ridiculous this is, but ultimately you give in and join him on the saddle.

“you’re ridiculous, Dan.” you laugh, hands gripping his the belt loops of his bell bottom jeans feeling the horse jerk a stop finally reaching its destination and allowing fans to swarm around and help Daniel off.

“you’re the one saying you wanted to see it, so here I am. your sexy cowboy.” he gestures to the outfit not giving you enough time to clap back before turning to sign autographs and take pictures. he’s crazy, always trying to prove a point, but he was right about one thing.

he was a sexy cowboy.

—

your knock is soft against his drivers door. his voice is barely audible, but you still open the door and see his cowboy hat rested on the bench next to his helmet.

the race wasn’t perfect for him. but there was one thing on your mind the whole time you watched him whip around that track. how sexy he looked in those cowboy boots.

“howdy,” you slid into the room, door closing quietly behind you. you move over to the bench and pick up his tan rimmed hat, placing it on his head, “you do make a sexy cowboy.” you admit watching his head lift upwards, eyebrows knitting together.

“I told you so.” he mutters, his hand reaches for the hat on his head, but you stop adjusting it to sit further down on his head.

you slip beside him on the bench, elbow crashing into his bicep, “I don’t know if you know, but I really like cowboys.” you whisper, his eyes watch you lean against the wall of the room, “it’s a shame I never got my texas wish.” you sigh, arms crossing over your chest.

“what texas wish?” he flips to look at you, eyes full of curiosity as he leans a bit closer to your body. you chuckle at how eager he is to know what it is.

“come on, you know every girl wants to ride a cowboy at some point in their life.”

he shakes his head, swallowing the salvia that’s thickening in his mouth, “no I didn’t know that.”

you shrug pulling the brim of his hat, setting it beside him on the bench, “well I’ll just try again next year.” you’re about to get up when he puts the hat back on, lips crashing against yours. he knows there’s no next year for him, it’s not in the books yet, and he wants no one else to take that from you.

“you can ride me.” he grits between his teeth, your hands hold onto his hat, the brim collided with your forehead, it almost fell off.

“you’ll be my cowboy?” you ask in between breaths watching him fall against the bench, his own fingers work quick to pull down his pants and underwear.

you can feel a smirk fall onto your lips as you kick off your own pants as well situating yourself on top of him, “ride me.” he whines, hands on your hips, he’s guiding you the way he likes it.

it doesn’t take long for you to find the grind he likes, moisture thickening in between your inner thighs. he watches your head tilt back, eyes shut as moans escape your lips. it feels good, everything you’re doing for him, and the little he’s providing for you is getting you off.

he juts his hips upwards so you can feel how hard he is beneath you. you work your way down his body, fingers working his shaft before touching his tip. a moan escapes his lips, you can feel him stiffen under your touch. he feels the wetness of your tongue swirl around, sweet moans of your name escape his mouth.

his hands fly into your hair, you can hear his breathing increase, your name is faint against his lips but it sounds so good.

“you really know how to make a cowboy feel good.” he grunts, cum meeting your mouth.

“it’s not my first rodeo, ricciardo.”

She's gettin' dicked down in Dallas

Railed out in Raleigh

Tag teamed up in Tennessee

Analed in Austin