#small cowboy ladies
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camlyee · 6 months ago
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Galaxy Ranger Jane 🦨
Traveling along the stars, Jane follows the Hunt to ensure that those who wronged others face the karma they deserve.
Below is a small eye practice I did with Jane and Fang. I wonder how they’re connected!
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parasolpaper · 1 year ago
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WATERPROOF Screaming Cowboy Hat Cat Meme Vinyl Sticker Decal
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weidli · 2 years ago
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has anyone already made an icemav vid to abba's lay all your love on me or do i have to do everything by myself around here
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queenlucythevaliant · 4 months ago
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People you will encounter working at The Bookstore
Little old lady buying a huge stack of the most violent thrillers you can imagine
Person who very tentatively asks if you carry the single most popular book in the store, manages to get the title wrong
Pre-teens who definitely should not be this comfortable in the adult romance section
Man in a cowboy hat and cowboy boots buying cowboy books. This feels right.
Small child who would like to register his dissatisfaction about not getting a toy
Small child who is happy to be getting books, but would like to register his dissatisfaction about not getting a book he's already read fifteen times
Man who calls the store every day to ask if the new issue of his favorite niche magazine is in yet. Being told that you only get shipments Mondays and Thursdays will not deter him
Man who definitely thinks you're too young and female to be recommending him history books
Man who's very enthusiastic about your history recommendations and thinks it's "nice to see young people taking an interest"
Old person absolutely baffled by e-reader, wants your help setting it up
Attractive young man who appears to have exactly your taste in books, and his girlfriend
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fishtank32 · 1 year ago
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throws my ocs at you
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simpforboys · 4 days ago
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surprise! (2)
drew starkey x fem!singer!reader
summary: reader and drew shoot the ‘perfume’ music video!
warnings: fluff, swearing, sexual themes but no real smut, kisses
‘perfume’ by del water gap
part one , part three
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It was bright and early on a Wednesday in December.
You had been up since six am to be on set, get costumes all organized, makeup done, hair done, and just make sure your vision was really coming along how you wanted it to.
After all, 'Perfume' was a big deal to you, now even more so due to the fact that your dream man was going to be your on-screen lover.
When Drew finally showed up at eight am, almost exactly on the dot, he was a little disorganized due to not getting as much sleep as he should have the night before.
You were talking to the director, clearly deep in the discussion as you explained your vision as best as your chaotic brain could.
"Drew is here," your manager came walking over.
Fuck.
You looked over, seeing Drew standing awkwardly by the trailers as he looked around at the film location.
It was pronounced you had chosen to do more of a countryside feel, the old farmhouse that had people constantly going in and out of it in order to set up for later scenes.
The location was beautiful, though. Grass, sand, hills, and for the actual land, it was quiet.
"Hey, good morning."
You walked over to Drew, trying to hide your pounding heart and the bags under your eyes (because, obviously, you hadn't been able to sleep the night before).
"Good morning." Drew looked at you, a small smile on his tired face.
"Are you hungry? We have breakfast and coffee over here," you guided Drew over to the food station, hands shaking with nervousness.
"Coffee sounds good, yeah." Drew murmurs, trying not to stare at you in your outfit.
You had chosen to wear blue overalls with a black long-sleeve shirt, and brown cowboy boots to fit into the countryside vibe you were going for.
"Sorry, I barely slept last night."
Drew shook his head, a small smile on his face.
"No, you're good. You just... look good."
Your eyes widened slightly at his compliment, your face feeling hot. God, why did he have to be fucking sweet?
"I don't normally wear this shit," you tried to deflect off of it and make a joke.
Drew smiled, shaking his head softly as he took a sip of the hot coffee.
"I'm assuming we're going to be cowboys?" He teased.
You shrug, a small smirk curling onto your lips.
"I couldn't pass up the opportunity to give everyone cowboy Drew." You joked back, instantly feeling a little embarrassed.
Being hyperaware and anxious was absolutely not helping anything about any and all interactions with him.
"Okay, so you're welcome to help yourself to anything. I have to film some solo shots, but probably in around thirty to forty-five minutes, the costume lady will come to get you."
You spoke, avoiding looking at him.
Drew hummed, watching you get all nervous and embarrassed. As much as he wanted to reassure you that you were fine, he couldn't deny how amusing it was to see you get all shy around him.
"Thank you," he murmured.
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While you went off to shoot some solo stuff, Drew was in the trailer as the ladies gave him some makeup and fixed his short hair.
You wanted him to wear blue jeans, cowboy boots, and a plain white shirt that had some dirt on it to make the appearance that he had been working outside.
By the time Drew was dismissed, you were finishing up filming. Staring at the footage that was just shot, your song playing in the background as you stood around the property or lip sung.
Glancing over and seeing Drew in the damn outfit you picked made your heart physically flutter.
He looked good.
You would definitely be feeding his fans (and yourself) content.
“How do I look?” He walked over to you, a small smirk on his face.
“Good… yeah, uh, good. Exactly how I envisioned.”
Why the fuck were you so nervous? Why the fuck was he so handsome and intimidating?
He hummed, wanting to tease you a little more before the director cut in.
“Okay, so you two are going to be sitting in the truck. Drew will be driving with Y/n in the passenger seat. When I say ‘go’, I want Drew to slowly reach over and hold her hand. Look at each other with soft, warm, loving eyes.”
The director says. The two of you nod in agreement, getting into the truck.
Drew placed his hands on the wheel as you looked out the window. The filming location was genuinely so pretty, and you were very pleased with your decision.
The camera man slid into the backseat with the big camera, making sure the angles would all be right.
“Okay, three, two, one… action!”
You continue to stare out the window as Drew drives the truck along the grassy pathway, ‘Perfume’ playing in the background.
And I'm picturing you right now, I'm thinking of you right now
You tried not to have your breath hitch when you felt his large, warm hand grab yours and intertwine your fingers.
Glancing over at him, your eyes met his gorgeous blue ones, a genuine look of affection filling your gaze, mirroring his.
But his was probably fake, he’s an actor after all.
Drew gave you a soft smile, which caused a small grin to curl onto your lips.
“And cut!”
‘Perfume’ cut off, but you were hyperaware of the way Drew didn’t immediately pull his hand from your’s.
In fact, you were the first to pull away, nearly shitting your pants at the way your hand tingled.
Drew cut the engine of the car, the director coming to the passenger side window as he leaned against it.
“That was really good, you could feel the tension in the gaze. For the next shot, we want Drew to get out of the car with Y/n to follow. Outside the car, start walking up towards the house, when Drew is going to place his hand on your waist and pull you towards him. Share a passionate kiss, and press her against the door.” The director said.
Oh. Oh. Oh.
“Sounds good,” Drew hums, glancing briefly at you.
You swallowed, trying to ignore the way your face felt warm as you nodded in agreement.
‘Perfume’ started playing in the background again, the next scene about to start.
“Okay… three, two, one… action!”
'Cause I wanna do all of the things, baby, I said I wanna do with you… 'Less this is a lie and I don't know myself like I thought…
Wait, this is a mess, I could be wrong, I could be so damn mistaken
Both you and Drew got out of the car, a sheepish smile on both of your faces as you start walking towards the house.
Your heart stammered in your chest when you both stepped onto the porch and his large hand snaked around your waist, tugging you firmly into him.
He dipped his head down, capturing your lips.
You were kissing Drew fucking Starkey.
Immediately, you both melted into the kiss. Your hands were on his jaw and the back of his neck, his other hand going to rest on your lower back, just on top of your ass.
Drew almost forgot where he was for a minute as he slipped his tongue into your warm mouth.
He pressed your back against the front door of the house, you pulling him down so his body is flush against yours.
Fuck.
You were both thinking it.
“And, cut!” The director called.
You were both so raptured into the kiss neither of you heard it immediately.
“Cut!” The director called again, trying to hide his snicker.
Drew slowly pulled his lips away from you, his hands sliding off your body, making you feel cold.
“Sorry,” he murmured. His blue eyes bore into yours.
“You two take five, we needa get the bedroom all ready for the next shot,” the director said.
You moved away from the door to sit on the front patio furniture of the house. Your lips were tingling, mind racing at the thought that you just made out with your celebrity crush.
Drew looked sheepish and a little embarrassed that he let himself get so into a kiss. It was definitely a first for him.
“You want a water or anything?” Drew asked you.
“Uh, yeah, sure. Thank you,” you swallowed. You were still feeling a little breathless from what just happened.
By the time Drew came back with your water, the director had also returned.
Both you and Drew followed the man into the back bedroom of the old farmhouse. It was bare, with the basic furniture of a wardrobe, bed, and nightstands.
You wanted it to be basic, you wanted it to add the detail into the story you were trying to convey.
"So, we're going to set the camera up right at this angle. Drew push Y/n back onto the bed and climb on top of her, still kissing. Only break the kiss so you can both pull your shirts off. Then we're going to cut it into a birds-eye view. Sound good for now?" The director hums.
Oh. Drew was going to see you in your bra.
You might have forgotten about that when you came up with ideas for the music video.
Drew nods, his eyes flickering over to yours, meeting your gaze before you both quickly look away. Why was he so nervous?
He had seen boobs, he had seen women in bras. Maybe it was the fact that he was going to see yours was driving him a little crazy, making him forget all about his professional side for a moment.
You unbuttoned your overalls at the top so it would be easier to pull your shirt off for the scene.
"Three, two, one... action!"
But I'm picturing you right now, I'm thinking of you right now, I'm picturing you right now
With nothing on, with nothing on but my perfume
The familiar beat of your song and lyrics came on, but you paid absolutely no attention to it when Drew kissed you again.
He flopped you back onto the bed, your body bouncing slightly. But neither of you dared to disconnect your lips, his tongue slipping in your mouth yet again.
A very small, faint whine left your throat when he pulled away to tug his shirt off. No fucking way you just did that.
Unbeknownst to you, the small whine made Drew's entire body go rigid. His mind was starting to drift into what you would sound like actually in bed.
You arched your back up, trying to remember that there was a giant camera on you both. You pulled your black long-sleeve up and over your head, eyes staring up at Drew.
The way his pupils dilated more, that gorgeous blue swirling into a deep sea color. Fuck. You were both ruined.
He immediately connected your lips back to his, both your minds a state of pure need. But before anything else could happen--
"Cut!"
The word "cut" was starting to become your least favorite thing in the entire world. Drew pulled back, still hovering over you.
You finally let your eyes drift down to his bare torso, seeing those abs for the first time in person. But he wasn't the only one.
He tried so hard not to look, to be a gentleman, to be professional. But he felt his gaze slip down to you lying there in your bra, his mouth growing a little wetter.
"Y/n, spread your legs and let Drew lay in between them. When we say action, Drew start thrusting your hips as if you two are having sex. We'll keep the birds-eye view so it gives off the appearance that you two actually are."
As the director gives his next instructions, a set designer fixes the sheet to rest around Drew's hips, covering up the fact that you are both still wearing pants.
All you and Drew could do was nod. It wasn't really safe to speak, not when the sexual tension and chemistry between you two was so high.
Drew had filmed sex scenes before, it was a part of his job. But fuck. You were driving him insane, and you were barely even speaking.
You spread your legs as Drew shifted closer to you, trying to look anywhere but at your chest and face.
"Three, two, one... action!"
Call me in the morning, beg me in the night, I'll be over safely if you need it anytime
I'm picturing you right now, with nothing on, with nothing on but my perfume
He had begun to softly move his hips, his mouth instinctively attaching to your jaw, kissing down to your neck. Your hands dug into his broad shoulders and back, trying desperately not to let out a real moan.
Your eyes were fluttered shut, legs tightening a little more around him. There was no real pleasure being shared, but both your bodies were on autopilot, as if you were actually having sex.
It was the hottest either of you had ever felt.
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The day continued on, with both you and Drew filming more romantic scenes. It was very surreal that this was all pretend because, at some points, it felt real.
The last scene was finally shot and everyone cheered with applause, happy the hard work and long day is over.
You were changing out of your film clothes and back into the sweatpants and hoodie you wore to set at six am this morning.
Drew had also changed, putting on his jeans and jacket.
You were going around and sincerely thanking every single person for their contribution and hard work, the last person finally being Drew.
Your eyes locked onto each other, a small smile creeping onto both your faces.
"Thank you so much, Drew, seriously. I couldn't have done this without you," you told him.
Drew shrugged nonchalantly, but he seemed a little sheepish at your genuine words.
"No, thank you. I had a lot of fun today, you were a lot of fun to film with." Drew replies, a warm look in his gaze.
He pulled you into another hug, your face pressed into him, arms wrapped tightly around each other.
"I hope this isn't the last time you see me," Drew murmurs in your ear.
Goosebumps erupted all over your skin, the moment reeling in your mind as you thought about when he hugged you and murmured how much he loved your song on Jimmy Fallon.
"It won't be, I promise."
You finally pulled away, a little reluctantly. You didn't wanna scare him off by holding him for too long.
"I'll eventually send you photo stills and snippets to post for promotion, but I don't want you to feel like you have to post anything or a shit-ton of stuff. I know you're busy," you tell him.
Drew shook his head. "Nah, I'll post them. Promise."
You nodded softly, a little grin on your face.
"Alright, Y/n. I'll see you around," Drew hums.
You watched as he walked away, a warm feeling in your chest.
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You had finally returned home after the long day. After showering, changing into pajamas, and feeding yourself, you slide into your warm bed.
Grabbing your phone from the nightstand, your heart jumped when you read one Instagram notification in particular.
@/drewstarkey has messaged you
You quickly opened the notification, a smile on your face.
Drew Starkey: Just wanted to thank you again for the opportunity today. Had more fun than I should have
Your User: Ofc!! Maybe when the music video drops we can celebrate together :3
Fuck. Your thumb pressed send before you could double-think that message.
Drew Starkey: I like the sound of that
Oh.
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tags!!
@slut4you @sweetlike-sugarplum @snowtargaryen @fastlovela @christinechickiee @ahgrace6 @evermorx89 @loren8818181 @eddiemuns0nl0ver @sophiesmovingcastle5 @chimchimjiminie16 @amel1ee @reader1402 @tqd4455 @rxeae @caraxes-syrax @shrimpybbq @drewstarkeysbabe @rafeswhoooreee @meropeeonmee @rafeluvrr @marvelahsobx @raeven-marie43 @fallout-girl219 @brendazzlingg @10ava01 @secretsideofbree @drewstarrrkey @p0gue420 @gibson-g1rl @kiiyomei @spiderstyles04 @sexualparkour @vinaluvsu @domainexpandme @mariadu2 @toterry @taliawz @always-reading @angvl3tears @iloveoldermenn @aesthetic-lyss @lover-girl-estxx @cadhlabear
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sweatermuppet · 2 years ago
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some of my fav pins from the Lesbian Herstory Archives
[ID: 9 close up pictures of a pin against a gray background. In this description, images are numbered 1 through 9.
1. A pale pink pin with purple text. In caps, it reads: "male lesbians unite."
2. A pale yellow pin with cartoonish dark blue text. It reads: "Mr. Lady records • videos. The punctuation points are little white stars." White curvy lines and more stars are inside the word lady.
3. A black pin with gothic red text. It reads: "Serenity through viciousness."
4. A white pin with gray text. It reads: "I'm Hetro-Phobic." The word "I'm" is tilted.
5. A pin with dark gray text. The bottom half is red, and the top half has a bunch of red, distorted smiley faces, with a white background peeking through. In caps, the text reads: "happy gays are here again."
6. A white pin with saturated purple text. In caps, it reads: "don't feed or tease the straight people."
7. A sky blue pin with small gray text. It reads: "fondle with care."
8. A grey pin with a light gray illustration of a shirtless, tired looking cowboy. They hold a mug of beer in their hands, resting against a fence with a saddle on it. The sign next to them reads "Boots & Saddle."
9. A royal blue pin with lilac purple text. The first and last line are in a larger, serif font, and the center line is a smaller, sans serif font. In caps, it reads: "love is a many-gendered thing."
Quoted with slashes indicating line breaks, it reads: "love is / a many-gendered / thing." /End ID]
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dumbandfunn · 8 months ago
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how cowboy!rafe and spoiled!reader met
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it was a usual friday night in the local bar, the few regular rowdy ranchers and the occasional couple passing through just to grab a drink for their journey. it was nothing new. not until the door swung open more aggressively than usual and low and behold you stood in your pretty white sundress, mascara stained under eyes and demanding somebody to tell you “where the hell you were.” rafe had been on high alert the minute he lay his eyes on you, telling his usual drinking crowd to shut up while he took a sip of the whiskey he had been clinging to the entire night. you looked so helpless, fragile, rambling to the bar tender who seemed to not care about anything but how low the cut on your dress was. his eyes were trailing from where you had perched yourself back to the pervy wandering heads from the countless men who had all fallen silent at the chaos you had created from nothing. “are you even listening to me,” you pout, lip still wobbling whilst you slammed a hand down against the wooden counter. “i need somebody to help me, im lost and—” you sniffle.
an older man sitting across from you had piped up with an “ain’t nobody gon’ help you in these parts little lady, not with that attitude,” and that only made you cry harder. “but i’m lost,” you huff out, your tears quick to turn to the sweetest angry pout rafe had probably ever seen as you turn to the few people who were only watching in amusement, oh how they hated pretentious city girls. rafe’s eyebrows were raised, maybe it was then, as you started to bicker with a rancher twice your size that he needed to know more about you. and why the hell a girl like you was in a place like this in the first place. you left with a pretty loud bratty scream after nobody showed any interest in helping you, the distant laughs of the scene you’d caused echoing behind you as you sniffled back your tears and kicked at the car that had put you in the unfortunate situation in the first place. it wasn’t like rafe to follow, especially after someone like you, not that he came across anyone like that much in the first place. a clearly spoiled, city princess. maybe it was just the little white dress you were wearing, maybe he was just as pervy as the rest. he just couldn’t leave a little helpless thing like you to your own devices in a place he knew too well. or maybe he just needed you the second his pants got a little tighter when you were leaning across the bar a few minutes prior.
but less than two seconds after your tantrum he was hot on your heels, waving off the whistles that followed when the doors swung behind him. “so y’need help?”
a knight in shining armour, just a minute too late, it was tantrum city now after not getting your way.
“not from any of you anymore,” you spat out, folding your arms over your chest, narrowing your eyes at the young man who took a small step closer, taking his hat off and raising both hands up in defense, “well, you didn’t choose the best place to come cryin’ for help, alright, s’all i’ll say doll.” “—so y’gonna tell me what happened or you just gon’ sit here cryin’ all night,” he mutters out. you frown up at him, clearly in a conflict about standing your ground or getting out of the hell your car had broken down in. maybe your stubbornness had gotten the better of you, how you turned your nose up at him and quickly looked away, only for a hand to land firmly on your jaw a minute later, squishing your cheeks and staring you down with those stern blue eyes. “i told you this not the place to come cryin’ for help, s’tell me whats wrong before i go back inside and leave you here all on your own, hm? you want that?”
you shook your head almost immediately, eyes widened and lips parted. nobody had spoken to you like that in your entire life. and the way your eyebrows creased and your lip started to vibrate again, rafe knew he had you right where he wanted you. “my car broke down, can you fix it” you whisper.
“they don’t teach you manners in the city?”
you managed to squeak out a please, just as his free hand reached to brush a few stray hairs out of your face, licking his thumb and swiping the clumps of mascara from under your eyes. “now that wasn’t so hard was it doll?” and you shook your head again, nervous and chewing down on your bottom lip. he really did have you right then and there, someone who could handle your tantrums and someone who could knock the attitude from your lungs with something as simple as an eyebrow raise.
everyone was shocked to see you curled under rafe’s arm the following friday in his usual corner of the same bar, feet swinging and dazed. nobody would dare say a bad word about you again.
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p3achfilm · 20 days ago
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₊ ⊹ 𝓬𝔀: nsfw. cowboy!eren, smut with a plot, lil fluff, explicit language, creaming, overstimulation, multiple creampies, kissing, lil bit of angst, oral [f], pet names, barn sex, fingering, cum-eating, teasing, edging, marking ₊ ⊹ slightly edited, needed this out of my drafts so enjoy :,)
𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 9k
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₊ ⊹𝓡𝓘𝓓𝓘𝓝₊ ⊹
"so, you’re going to butt-fuck nowhere? have you not seen get out?”
the girl with brown skin sat opposite you on a cream- colored bean bag , her disbelief evident. with her arms crossed and wide eyes glued to you, she observed as you crammed another shirt into the pink duffel bag. you had just dropped the bomb that you were heading out of town for a month to cover a story on sustainable farming in the midwest. when ronnie, your supervisor, first tasked you with this assignment, you felt uncertain about embarking on the journey alone, particularly in rural areas.but there was something about it that sparked your interest, the thrill of new adventures and the unknown calling to your inner explorer.
your best friend, kiara, seemed to have different feelings, however.
“you’re actually hella dramatic, kiki.” you playfully roll your eyes.
"or i’m realistic?”
“i think you meant delusional.”
“so, let me get this straight," she starts up. ronnie said he wanted someone to write a story about farming, and you're the only one that volunteered?" she folds her arms across her chest. "not really. a few people from the tech and food sections are going. i think they were hoping for a bigger piece, i’ll be doing my own thing though." you explain, grabbing your macbook and stuffing it into the already overfilled bag. "this is my chance to finally do something that's not writing about the latest iphone, or who the top chef is this season."
"what about the wedding?" kiara asks, her eyebrows furrowed. "i told you that i'd be back by then." you look at her apologetically. "i know you're upset. i'm sorry” she cuts you off, "i'm not upset." she dismisses, shaking her head. "i get it. this is your career, and i'm not going to stand in the way of that."
"thanks ki." you plop down on the bean bag beside her, resting your head on her shoulder. "just don't fall in love with some farmer, okay?" she warns, and you chuckle at her suggestion.
"you know i'm too career-driven for that."
kiara gives a small laugh, resting her cheek against your hair. “well, at least call me and let me know when you get there. you know i worry about you," she says.
"i will, go spend time with hubby! i know he’ll be thrilled when he finds out i won’t be here for the next couple of weeks. you two can have all the loud sex you want—" you're cut off as a pillow slices through the air and smacks you, kiara giggling. "enough, you! " she says, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
"hurry up before you’re late."
“fine, fine!” you puff dramatically standing to your feet.
the drive to the small town where you'll be staying is serene, fields of green stretching out on either side of the road. when you finally arrive, the town looks quaint and welcoming, a stark contrast to the bustling city you left behind. you check into a charming bed-and-breakfast, the kind owner showing you to your cozy room. the bed looks inviting, but you’re too wired to sleep just yet. deciding to explore a bit, you wander the quiet streets until you find a small bar. “the drunken duck.” the neon sign flickers, casting a warm glow.
eren yeager had always considered himself a gentleman. no doubt he was the town’s sweetheart, known for always lending a hand whether it be fetching a kitten out of a tree, or helping an old lady across the road, eren was always there. his reputation for kindness and chivalry preceded him, making him a beloved figure in the small community.
every morning, he would stop by the local bakery to pick up fresh bread for the elderly couple next door. the baker, an older woman with a warm smile, always had his order ready, knowing he would be there without fail. “thank you, eren,” she would say, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “you’re a blessing to this town.” he would simply nod, his own smile modest, and continue on his way, the bread tucked under his arm.
eren’s charm extended beyond his actions. his appearance was nothing short of striking. standing at an impressive six foot four, skin littered in tattoos, he towered over most, yet his presence was never intimidating. instead, it was comforting, like a gentle giant. his hair, dark and silky, cut into a wavy mullet often pulled back,giving him a slightly tousled, boyish look that only added to his appeal. his eyes, deep and expressive, held a kindness that drew people in. and then there was his smile – that lopsided grin that seemed to light up his entire face. it was a smile that could disarm even the most hardened of hearts.
his voice, too, was something to be admired. he spoke with a charming accent, a soft lilt that made every word sound like a melody. when he spoke, people listened, not just because of what he said, but because of how he said it. his words were always thoughtful, always considerate, and always delivered with that signature smile.
eren typically wrapped up a long day at the farm around this time, but since it was saturday, he decided to shake things up a bit and hit the town for a drink or two. he hardly ever treated himself like this, always busy lending a hand in town or tackling farm chores. so there he was, rocking his favorite checkered flannel, some denim jeans, and his trusty boots. “want another shot, boss?” the bartender asks. he knows he probably shouldn’t, especially with a hangover looming for tomorrow, but he just shrugs it off. “sure, why not? i’ll do whiskey neat this time.”
the wooden door swings open making him glance back. as you step in it's tough not to let his gaze wander over your shapely figure—those denim shorts held up by a leather belt fit you perfectly. they hug your curves, showcasing your brown legs and leaving just enough to the imagination. the white tank top clings to you, and the shift from the cool air makes your nipples press against the delicate material. there’s a leather bag hanging off your shoulder and he wonders what’s inside.
you slide into the seat next to him, and he can't help but notice how much prettier you are up close. your dark wavy hair dances just above your backside, framing your face with a natural grace. a touch of dewy makeup brings out your features. your full cupid's bow lips are set in a natural frown, and he finds himself mesmerized by the way your long, delicate lashes flutter over your lovely brown eyes. you remind him of one of those perfect dolls his ma used to collect—just stunning. even though the atmosphere is heavy with despair, he still catches a hint of your sweet scent. mango.
he quickly glances away when he realizes he’s been staring for too long, not wanting to come off as creepy. he takes a sip of his whiskey, feeling that pleasant burn as it goes down. then, he turns back to you. you look so different from everyone else around.
“city girl huh?”
you pause for a second, finally understanding that he’s addressing you. you let out a playful scoff. “damn really? i didn’t think it was that obvious,” you say, turning to look at him. the guy in front of you is a tough-looking man, his muscles slightly tensing beneath his faded flannel shirt. his hands are rough, clearly shaped by a life of hard labor on the farm. you can’t help but appreciate his rugged appearance and the warmth in his gaze. even though you feel a pull towards him, you keep your cool, trying to mirror his laid-back demeanor.
"how'd you know?"
"well, for starters, you’re pretty. secondly, you’re too damn pretty.”
“thanks. . . i guess.” you laugh, a sweet little giggle that makes his heart do a flip. you were definitely not supposed to be here, but something drew him to you. and maybe he was feeling a little lonely and desperate. but there was something about the way your eyes sparkled when you looked at him. you were a breath of fresh air in this quiet little place.
“what brings someone like you to a spot like this? i mean, i bet a city girl like you has way cooler stuff on her agenda.
you let out a tiny sigh.
"i'm a journalist. i'm here to write about sustainable farming in the midwest."
eren clicks his tongue, "alright then. you've found your guy." you check him out from head to toe, and he struggles to stifle a grin.
“really? why’s that?”
"my family has been cultivating this land for many generations. we're one of the few farms in the area that avoids pesticides and fertilizers, which is why our crops are better than just about any other farmers is this town.”
you lean back, crossing your arms, a skeptical expression on your face.
"is that right?"
he nods, "i’m actually attending the farmers market tomorrow. you can check out my crops, get whatever behind the scenes stuff ya need."
looks like you’d have your story started sooner than expected.
“that would be amazing!” he finds it cute how your eyes sparkle. you’re instantly digging into the bag you’d brought, pulling out a clearly used notepad and jotting down notes. “i’ll let you do your story on my family’s farm under one condition,” he says. you raise your eyebrow at the man, whose name you don’t even know. “and what’s this…condition…” you trail off.
he immediately picks up, “eren yeager.” he sticks his hand out and you reluctantly take it. “₊˚⊹♡…” you introduce yourself. god, even your name is pretty, he thinks. "well, ₊˚⊹♡, you gotta dance with me." he smiles cheekily, a charming dimple appearing. you shake your head, laughing at how bold he was. his tanned skin glows under the dim lights, and the tattoos peeking from under his sleeves hint at stories untold. he didn’t know if it was the alcohol, or the fact that he hadn’t seen a pretty face like yours in a while, but he was itching to get closer to you. he wanted to know more about you, see how that pretty little journalist brain worked.
“buy a girl a drink first, jeez.” you tease. eren laughs, a sound you could get used to. “gotcha, darlin’. what ya feeling?” his green eyes lock onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat. god, this man is so handsome.
you glance at the bar, considering your options. “how about a whiskey sour?” you suggest, a mischievous glint in your eyes. eren nods, clearly impressed by your choice. “coming right up,” he says, making his way to hunt down the absent bartender. as you wait, you take in the surroundings. the bar is rustic, with wooden beams and vintage decor that give it a cozy, welcoming feel. the jukebox in the corner is playing an old country tune, and the soft hum of conversation fills the air.
eren returns with two whiskey sours, handing one to you. “to new beginnings,” he toasts, raising his glass. you clink your glass against his, the sound ringing out like a promise. the whiskey is smooth, with just the right amount of tartness from the lemon. “so, tell me more about this farm,” you say, leaning in closer. eren’s eyes light up as he begins to talk, his passion for his family’s land evident in every word. you listen intently, already imagining how you’ll weave his story into your article.
he takes a sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving yours. "—been in my family for generations. my grandparents started it, been passed down ever since. we grow all sorts of crops—corn, soybeans, you name it. and we’ve got a bunch of animals too. cows, chickens, horses. it’s a lot of work, but it’s worth it."
you nod, taking notes as he speaks. the passion in his voice is contagious, and you can see why he’s so proud of his heritage. “it sounds like a dream,” you say, genuinely intrigued. “what’s your favorite part about it?” eren thinks for a moment, a soft smile playing on his lips. “honestly? the sunsets. there’s nothing like watching the sun go down over the fields. it’s peaceful, you know? makes all the hard work worth it.” his eyes soften as he talks about the sunsets, and you can see a different side of him—a softer, more reflective side.
you jot down his words, already picturing the vivid descriptions you’ll include in your article. “i’d love to see it sometime,” you say, almost without thinking. eren’s smile widens, a hint of excitement in his eyes. “i’d love to show you. how about tomorrow evening? you can see the farm catch one of those sunsets.”
“uh, i’ll have to check my schedule.” you say absentmindedly, not noticing the way eren’s shoulders fall. “so that dance?” he reminds, a unfamiliar glint in his eyes. you laugh, tucking away your notepad. “don’t go complainin’ when i step on your toes.” he ignores your statement and takes your hand in his, you instantly notice how his grip is firm yet tender. leading you to the dance floor, he places one hand on your waist, the other still holding your hand. the music wraps around you both, a slow and steady rhythm that guides your movements.
eren gently directs you with the music, his steps smooth and assured. despite his size, he moves with a surprising grace, making it easy for you to follow his lead. you can feel the warmth of his touch through your clothes, a comforting presence that makes you feel safe.
as you move, you catch the scent of his cologne—an intoxicating blend of cedarwood and fresh pine. it’s a scent that makes your heart flutter and your knees feel weak. he looks down at you, his eyes filled with a gentle curiosity. "you’re a natural. " he says softly, his breath warm against your ear. you smile up at him, feeling a blush creep up your neck. "i have a good partner," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. he chuckles, the sound rich and comforting.
"i’m glad you think so . . . so why here? this town i mean. why pick your story here?" he suddenly asks. it was true there were plenty of other small towns you could've picked but this one was almost nonexistent on a map. this was the perfect place to cover a story. "well for one i heard the soil is pretty damn good here, and of course the farmers market. i hear it blossoms around this time of year." you hum, eren nods. he could dance and listen to you talk all night, he wishes he could. "so you say you're from the city? how was that growing up?" he asks, you try to ignore the flutter in your stomach as he traces various shapes onto your back with his thumbs.
you take a moment to answer the question, unsure of what to say.
you didn't have a bad life per say, you had loving parents and a roof over your head. you didn't grow up with much money, or nice things, but you didn't grow up in poverty either. well that was before your parents split up and your father left. your mom did her best, and you knew that. but it was hard being the daughter of a single parent. and when you were only fourteen years old, your mom decided to go off to find herself and left you in the care of your father.
he in turn dumped you off at a group home and didn't even look back. you haven't seen him since. so you stayed there, in that house full of strangers, until you turned eighteen and was able to live on your own. you never saw your mother again either, part of you was glad. you found comfort in writing, comfort in writing about other people’s lives that wasn’t your own sad one. that's when you decided to become a journalist.
you turn and meet his eyes. you could see the curiosity in them. "it wasn't bad. i was an only child so my mom always had me on her hip. she taught me everything i know about being a woman, and then she left me." you state, eren's eyes widened at the last part.
"oh i'm sorry, i didn't mean to-"
"it's fine" you cut him off, "she went out and did what she had to do, and when i was old enough i did the same thing. it's fine" you repeat. you didn't have time to dwell on the past. you couldn't, it was too painful. you were okay now, and that's all that matters.
"but it wasn't all bad" you quickly add, not wanting him to feel bad. you could tell eren felt sympathy for you, and you didn't need that. "i made friends, i went to school and i graduated with honors. i got into college and i was happy."
"what about your dad?" he asks, and you shrug, arms still draped around his shoulders. "i haven't seen him in years. he left when i was a kid and i haven't spoken to him since. i'm not angry or anything, i don't need him"
eren frowns.
"i'm sorry that happened to you" he says, and you nod. "don't be. it's all in the past"
eren nods, and silence falls between the two of you. he wants to say something, but he's not sure what. he's still curious, and wants to know more about you. he wants to ask you more questions, but he doesn't want to push. he's never met anyone like you before. "what about you country boy, you lived here all your life?" he smiles at country boy, the way you mock his accent is cute.
"born and raised," he states proudly and you raise an eyebrow.
"really? never wanted to leave, go and explore?"
“when i was younger.”
"well, what happened?" you pry.
"it's not that interesting, really."
you frown, "i want to know. please?" he can’t resist that pout.
"okay, okay," he says, and you smile.
eren clears his throat, and his cheeks flush slightly. "i've always been a dreamer, i've always wanted to do something different, be someone different. when i was a kid, i used to run away from home a lot, and i would just roam the town for hours. it was kind of embarrassing, but i was a weird kid. but anyways, my parents kinda always nailed it into my head that i had to stay here, keep the family business going. so i just kinda pushed what i wanted to the side. don’t get me wrong, i love what i do. . . it’s just sometimes i wish i followed my heart.”
"well," you start, "this is your life. not theirs. if you want to leave, you should. you shouldn’t spend your whole life living in your parents' shadow."
eren smiles slightly, "you make everything sound easy. city girl."
"i have a name, ya know."
"i know, but i like city girl better."
"shut up," you say, playfully rolling your eyes.
"yes ma’am."
as the evening unfolded, you and eren settled into a snug spot at the bar, sipping on your drinks while the music played softly in the background. the dim lighting cast a warm glow over the room, making it feel cozy and intimate. your conversation flowed effortlessly, covering a range of topics and filled with laughter as you both shared stories. you talked about your childhood dreams, favorite books, and the places you wanted to visit. time seemed to fly by, and soon enough, the bar announced its closing.
eren insisted on accompanying you back to your hotel, even though it was just a short ten-minute stroll. the night air was cool and refreshing, and you walked side by side, occasionally brushing against each other. you exchanged numbers, promising to meet again the next day. as you entered your hotel, you turned back to see eren giving you a warm smile and a gentle wave before turning to leave. you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement for tomorrow.
✧˚ ༘ ⋆。˚
it was just your luck you’d be running late. eren had told you eleven am, yet that was the time you peeled your tired eyes open. fuck, you should've laid off the drinks last night. blindly, you search the crumbled sheets for your phone. two missed calls, one from kiara and one from him. immediately you're redialing eren, sitting up you run a hand down your face. "hey-yeah, i know, sorry i'm late. i'm on the way!" you rush out, throwing your bare legs off the bed. eren doesn't seem mad, he actually seems to be in a good mood, his tone chipper as he says "see you soon"
you shower in a hurry, shaving your legs, soaping your body, and running your fingers through your hair. in the mirror, you look like you could use a few more hours of sleep. your hair is a wild mess and you don't look as awake as you would like. there is no time to put makeup on, so you skip it, opting to brush your teeth before throwing a dress on. you have a quick bite of fruit and a cup of coffee, then you’re rushing around, gathering all of the things you need. as you scramble to find your sandals, you remember the conversation from last night and smile. despite the rush, there's a flutter of excitement in your chest. you grab your bag, double-checking for your phone and keys, and dash out the door.
eren is perched near the farmers market sign when you pull into the bustling field. he’s leaning back, one leg propped up on his truck bumper, arms crossed over his broad chest. on top of his head sits a cowboy hat, his hair is loose today, the dark brown waves blowing in the warm wind. you can't help but appreciate the way his blue jeans hug his muscled thighs. it's casual, but somehow still makes him look so damn good. he has on a black tee, the material tight across his torso, hugging his inked biceps.
"hey sleeping beauty." he says, a smirk tugging at his full lips.
"hey, sorry again, my alarm never went off." you say, looking at him apologetically. he shrugs. "it's fine,i'm just glad you're here. i was starting to think you were standing me up."
your brows shoot up at the words. "you get stood up?”
“happens to the best of us.” he hums, pulling out a toothpick and sticking it into his mouth. you eye him, not saying anything. just thinking about how this fine ass man gets stood up.
“let’s go. we open in fifteen minutes.”
you look so pretty to him, today you’re not wearing any makeup. and somehow you look even better without it, your hair swishes through the wind, framing your soft face as you walk. you’re wearing a sundress that clings to your body like a second skin, he can’t let his mind wander to hiking your dress up and fucking you on his truck. he shakes his head, trying to dismiss the thoughts but fails miserably, his cock hardening uncomfortably against his denim jeans.
the market is set up in a large, green field. there are rows and rows of different vendors. fresh fruits and vegetables, homemade breads, flowers, jams, candles, even fresh meat. you love the energy here, and it's not hard to spot the people who come every week. they greet the vendors, asking about their families.
eren seems to have a lot of customers. you watch him as he bags multiple sweet-smelling fruits and jars of homemade jam. he seems to connect with everyone; he’s definitely a crush around his town. women so blatantly flirting with him, high schoolers blushing. you couldn’t blame them. quietly, you snapped photos as you stood off to the side of his stand. he even lets you taste a few things.
you savor the sweetness of a ripe strawberry, the tang of homemade jam lingering on your tongue. "this is amazing," you say, smiling up at him. he grins, a twinkle in his eye. “glad you like it," he replies, handing you another sample.
as the morning sun rises higher, casting a warm glow over the market, you feel a sense of contentment. this town, with its hidden charm and welcoming people, feels like the perfect backdrop for your story.eren's interactions with the townspeople are heartwarming. he knows everyone's name and asks about their lives with genuine interest. "how's your mother doing, mrs. thompson?" he asks a regular customer, handing her a bag of apples. she smiles, her eyes crinkling at the corners.
"she's doing much better, thanks to you and your delicious fruit, eren," she replies, patting his arm affectionately. a group of children run up to his stand, their faces lighting up when they see him. "eren! do you have any more of those sweet peaches?" one of the kids asks eagerly. “of course, just for you guys," eren says, ruffling the boy's sandy red hair before handing him a peach. the children giggle and thank him, running off to enjoy their treat.
you watch as he continues to engage with everyone, his laughter and easygoing nature drawing people in. it's clear that eren is not just a vendor; he's a beloved part of this community. and as you capture these moments through your camera lens, you can't help but feel a growing admiration for him.
as the sun starts to set, the crowd dwindles, and the market comes to a close. eren is packing up his stand, putting away the last of the fruits and vegetables. he catches your eye, flashing you a smile. "you hungry city girl? we could grab a bite to eat. i know a place not too far from here.” he suggests.you hesitate, looking down at your camera, work could wait.
"sure," you say. "i could eat."
you walk to the center of the market where the food stands are. you smell the fried food before you see it, your stomach growling. you haven't had anything but fruit all day. eren smiles and places a hand on the small of your back. "hope you ain’t vegetarian pretty." he says. you both order burgers and fries at this cute little burger stand. you sit on a bench and dig in, your stomach happy. the food is simple but delicious, and you find yourself enjoying the company of eren more than you expected. he's funny and charming, and as the sky darkens and the market clears out, he stays by your side.
the stars begin to twinkle in the night sky, and eren takes your hand. "walk with me, wanna showing you somethin" he says. his hands are warm and calloused. you nod, letting him lead you away and into the quiet darkness of the night. you walk together through the streets, the only sound the distant chirping of crickets. as you pass by an old farmhouse, you see a horse grazing peacefully in the moonlight. the sight is enchanting, and you stop to take a picture. eren leans in close, his breath tickling your ear. "beautiful," he murmurs.
you turn to face him, the moon casting a soft glow over his features. his green eyes sparkle with something you can't quite place. he reaches out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. your breath hitches, and you find yourself leaning in, drawn to him. his lips meet yours in a gentle kiss, his arms wrapping around you. the kiss is sweet and tender, and you feel a flutter in your chest.
you spend the next few weeks getting to know eren and his charming small town. you go on long walks and late-night drives, sharing stories and secrets. he teaches you about the plants and animals native to the area, and you teach him about photography and writing. he takes you on picnics in the woods, stargazing on the rooftop of his barn, and late-night swims in the lake. each time is more magical than the last, and you can't help but fall harder for him.
his love for his hometown is evident in everything he does. from helping out the elderly to teaching local children how to garden, he is a beacon of hope and inspiration for the people around him. you capture it all on camera, the beauty of his home and the beauty of him.
✮⋆˙
the crunch of gravel under your boots echoes through the warm summer air as you make your way up the driveway. the first time you’d seen eren’s home, all you could do was gasp. it was like something from a movie, something you’d never see in the bustling city. the house had a classic wrap-around porch, inviting you to explore every angle of its beauty. a charming swing hung from the porch, gently swaying in the breeze, beckoning you to sit and take in the serene surroundings.
the farmhouse itself was a picturesque sight, with whitewashed walls and dark wooden shutters that added a touch of rustic elegance. large windows let the sunlight pour in, illuminating the cozy, inviting interior. inside, the rooms were filled with warm, comfortable furnishings, each piece telling a story of family and love.
surrounding the house, trees were in full bloom, their branches heavy with ripe, luscious fruit. the air was filled with the sweet scent of apples and peaches, mingling with the fragrance of wildflowers that dotted the landscape.
the sun casts a golden hue, making everything seem almost magical. you’d finally finished your story and were eager to show eren. you spot him in the distance, tending to the horses, his silhouette strong and comforting. with a mischievous grin, you sneak up behind the tall man. “boo!” you yell, wrapping your arms around his solid frame. he chuckles, the sound rich and warm, turning around to face you.
“hi beautiful,” he hums, pressing a gentle kiss against your temple, his breath tickling your skin.
“hi you,” you sigh, letting yourself melt into his embrace for a moment, savoring the way he feels against you.
“what’s this?” he quirks an eyebrow at the folder in your hand, curiosity glinting in his eyes.
“my story, i finished up last night.” you pull back just enough to see his reaction. his expression shifts, a hint of sadness crossing his face as he realizes what this means. you’ve both known this day would come, but the reality of it is bittersweet. he’d enjoyed these last few weeks with you more than he’d like to admit. his eyes flicker from your face to the folder and back again, as if trying to memorize every detail.
god, he could get drunk off of you. today you’re wearing a black v-neck that hugs your curves, bell-bottom denim jeans adorned with a dark brown leather belt, and brown boots that click softly against the gravel. your hair is pulled into a high ponytail, but a few unruly strands have escaped, framing your face in a way that makes you look effortlessly beautiful.
reluctantly, he takes the folder from your hands. you watch him intently as he reads, not even realizing you’re holding your breath until he finishes the last page and looks up at you. “so, thoughts?” you ask, your voice tinged with nervousness as you anxiously cross your arms, awaiting his response.
eren inhales deeply, his gaze softening as he meets your eyes. "it's stunnin, it’s perfect.” he whispers, his voice brimming with sincere admiration. a smile spreads across your face, a wave of relief and pride washing over you. "that really means a lot coming from you." he steps a little closer, his fingers gently tucking a stray hair behind your ear. "i’m really gon’ to miss you," he confesses, his voice barely audible. "these last few weeks have been... amazin,” your heart feels heavy at his words, aware that your time together is drawing to a close. "i’ll miss you too, eren. more than you can imagine."
his lips curl into a smirk as he reaches down and grabs your waist, pulling you close to him once again. his green eyes are ablaze with passion and desire.the folder falls to the ground, forgotten, as eren cups your face in his hands. he looks down at you, his eyes drinking in every inch of you.
he closes the gap, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss. it was unlike any other he had given you before. it was passionate and sweet, but held a sense of longing. a promise of more. you feel his hands move from your cheeks to wrap around your waist, pulling you closer, pressing his body against yours. your hands find their way to the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair. you feel his tongue sweep over your bottom lip, and you let out a quiet moan, the sound setting something off inside him.
the kiss becomes more intense, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth, the taste of you intoxicating him. his hands begin roaming up and down your sides, leaving trails of fire on your skin.you gasp against his lips as his hand moves under your shirt and finds your breast. he moans into the kiss, his fingers brushing against your hardening nipple. your mind is fuzzy, thoughts incoherent as you cling to him, lost in the pleasure.
you can feel him growing harder beneath his jeans, his erection pressing against your leg. he breaks the kiss, his eyes hooded and filled with lust as he looks down at you, panting, lips swollen and red.
the way his eyes burn into yours sends a wave of arousal straight to your core. you can feel yourself getting wetter, aching for his touch. you grind against his thigh, desperate for friction. he lifts you up, and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist.
he carries you towards the barn, kicking the door shut behind him. the smell of hay surrounds you as he gently pushes you, guiding you backward until the backs of your legs hit a haystack. you sank into the soft hay, the prickly texture contrasting with the smooth fabric of your pants. eren looms above you, eyes dark, his desire evident in the bulge straining against the denim. you lay there, breathing heavily, chest rising and falling with each inhale and exhale, your skin flushed. your shirt is pulled up slightly, exposing your pierced navel, and your hair is mussed, wild and untamed. you look like a goddess. he wants to worship every inch of you.
your hands reach out, desperate to pull him close. your fingers hook into the hem of his shirt, tugging it over his head. your eyes widen at the sight of his sculpted abs and broad shoulders. you run your hands over his toned chest, taking in the smooth planes and hard inked muscle. eren climbs on top of you, the weight of him pressing you deeper into the hay. he leans forward, his breath hot against your ear, and whispers, "tell me what you want, beautiful." his tone makes you whimper. "i-i want you to touch me," you breathe.
"good girl." his voice is husky and full of promise as his hand begins tracing patterns on your pudgy stomach, slowly working its way up your shirt. he pauses when he reaches the underside of your breast, his thumb ghosting over your stiff nipple. you moan, arching your back, craving his touch. his eyes darken further as he takes in the sight. he wastes no time, lowering himself to capture a nipple between his lips, sucking and teasing it with his tongue. you’re practically drooling as you push your chest into his mouth, encouraging his attentions. his hands roam over your thighs, his touch sending sparks of pleasure through you. his mouth finds yours, swallowing your whimpers as his fingers work their way over your body.
he breaks the kiss, trailing wet sloppy pecks along your jawline, down the side of your neck. he nips at the skin just below your ear, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. "fuck, eren..."
"that's it, baby, let me hear you," he husks, his voice dripping with desire. your hips buck, seeking friction. your clit throbs painfully, and you know if he keeps this up, you'll come undone with nothing but his fingers. he slides his hand down your body, fingers hooking into the waistband of your jeans. he unbuttons them and pulls them off in one swift motion, tossing them to the side. he takes a moment to appreciate the view. you lay there, exposed and trembling with desire. his gaze lingers on your pussy, soaked and glistening, ready for him.
you spread your legs, giving him further access. his beefy fingers trail up the inside of your thigh, teasingly slow. he slips two fingers inside you, and a jolt of pleasure shoots through you. "ah, fuck!" you cry, throwing your head back as he curls his fingers. "that's it, princess. let me make you feel good," he groans, pumping his fingers in and out, setting a steady rhythm. your eyes roll back as his thumb rubs circles on your clit, sending waves of pleasure washing over you. your nails dig into his shoulders, clinging to him for dear life. “feels so good,” you shakily breathe out, your walls tightening around his fingers. he picks up the pace, his thumb rubbing your clit faster, calloused thumb padding the sensitive bud with more pressure.
"you're gonna cum all over my fingers, and then i'm gonna fuck you, sweetheart. do you understand?" he breathes, his voice laced with lust.
"y-yes!" you whimper, grinding your hips against his hand, chasing the release that's just out of reach. his eyes roam your face, taking in every detail, wanting to remember this moment. you're a mess, cheeks flushed, lips parted as you pant. your eyelids flutter, threatening to close. "keep your eyes open, princess. w’na see you when you cum," he murmurs, his voice low and commanding.you struggle to obey, the pleasure overwhelming. you're right on the edge. he slips a third finger inside you, stretching you. the sensation is too fucking much. “mhm, taking all of me like a big girl.” his free hand grips the back of your neck, forcing you to maintain eye contact as he whispers, "eyes open."
your fingers grip the rough hay underneath you, snapping the straw. you wanna scream as he slows down,green eyes watching his digits slide in and out of you slowly, followed by a soft squelch each time ."please... please, eren..." you beg. you're so close, the tension in your body wound tight. he grins wickedly, loving the power he has over you.
"you wanna cum, baby? you gotta ask nicely," he teases."fuck, please, let me cum eren. i'm so close," you moan, unable to take it any longer. “city girl pretty when she’s all fucked out.” he grins, leaning down, cupping your soft thick thighs before attaching his mouth to your shivering pussy. you cry out as his tongue finds your clit, free hand now thrusting into you. you grip the hay tighter, trying to ground yourself. you're so close it’s painful. “god.” you groan, one hand supporting you the other thumbing your sore nipples. you buck your hips desperately over his face, twitching as his nose brushes continuously against your hot clit. a hand keeps you firmly in place, gripping the soft fat on your thigh.
“stop runnin.” his voice is muffled by you, fingers twisting in his hair. the wet sounds of his mouth on you, lapping at your juices and slurping, echo throughout the empty barn. your legs tremble under his hold. it's almost impossible to think about getting away from him. the grip he has on your thighs is tight, but you still manage to squirm against his tongue.
he pulls his face from you and replaces them with his fingers. the thick digits spreading you open. “stop t-teasing,” you whine as he kisses your inner thighs, licking and sucking the sensitive skin. he chuckles darkly, the sound reverberating through your core.
you whimper, tears stinging the corners of your eyes, your body aching for release. he finally takes pity on you, sucking on your clit, the vibration of his moans sending you careening over the edge. “cummin!” you cry out, toes curling, nails digging into the skin of your palms.eren pulls his fingers away your sopping cunt, bringing them to his mouth and licking them clean, the taste of you addicting.
"so fuckin’ good baby," he murmurs.
you look up at him, eyes heavy-lidded and satisfied. you reach out and pull him towards you, crashing your lips against his, tasting yourself on his tongue.he groans into the kiss, his hand grabbing the back of your neck. your hands find their way to the waistband of his jeans, fumbling with the zipper. you manage to unbutton them and slip a hand inside, palming his cock. you can feel him twitch, and a low moan escapes his lips.
"fuck, baby. so hard for you," he pants, his breathing becoming labored ."i need you inside me," you beg, unable to wait any longer. "yeah? you want me to fuck you?" he teases, his voice dripping with lust.you nod, biting your lip. god, you had him wrapped around your pretty little finger. “ask nicely baby."
"i need you," you beg, the desperation clear in your voice.he smiles wickedly, pulling off his jeans and boxers, exposing his massive cock.your eyes widen, your breath catching in your throat.
"it's okay, darlin. i'll take care of you," he reassures, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead before he tugs off his shirt. he lines himself up, rubbing his tip along your wet slit, coating himself in your slick. you whine, bucking your hips. you’re so desperate for him to fill you. he pushes into you slowly, stretching your tight pussy. you gasp as he bottoms out, the feeling of him inside you overwhelming.
"oh my god," you shudder, your hands clutching his back. "fuck, you're so tight," he sighs, his face buried in the crook of your neck.he gives you a moment to adjust before pulling out and slamming back into you, setting a fast and brutal pace.the barn is filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, moans, and the occasional swear. "so fucking good," he grunts, his cock hitting your cervix with each thrust.
"more... “ you hiccup, barely coherent, the pleasure building inside you once again. he complies, fucking you harder into the hay, his grip on your hips tightening. "you like that, baby? you like the way i fuck you?" he grunts, his thrusts never slowing. "yes, fuck, yes! please don't stop," you cry, lost in the feeling. your nails dig into his skin, leaving welts down his back.
eren’s strokes are relentless, each one hitting your sweet spot, sending shockwaves through you. one hand holds your leg firmly, his fingers digging into your soft flesh, leaving marks that would remind you of your passion later. the force of his thrusts making your breasts bounce.
his hands move, wrapping around your waist, pulling you into him. he sits up, pulling your legs up and over his shoulders, and starts slamming his cock deep inside you. he can't stop himself, can't even think about slowing down, you're so hot and tight, and wet and fuck, he just wants to stay like this with you forever. he feels your nails clawing at his arms, hears your voice moaning and whimpering, and it drives him insane. "fuck," he hisses, his thrusts get faster, deeper, harder. he feels the pressure building and knows he can't hold out much longer.
"ah, fuck, eren!" you mewl, the pleasure almost too much. he moves his hand between your bodies and starts sloppily rubbing your clit, desperate to feel you cum again. his hips are moving at a fevered pace, and he's close, so close. he's not sure he can keep going, and he needs you to cum. he leans down and takes your nipple into his mouth and sucks. you can feel him pushing against the sensitive spot deep inside once again, his fingers circling and pinching your clit.
he pulls out, flipping you over and lifting your hips ."i wanna watch my cock slide in and out of you," he muses. you spread your legs, presenting yourself to him. he wastes no time, plunging back into you, his thick cock hitting even deeper at this angle this time.
your arms give out and you fall face first against the hay. eren grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your head up. "i want to hear you," he demands. you try to form words, but it's impossible. all you can do is moan and whimper. he pulls out almost completely before slamming back into you. "god, you're so fucking tight," he groans. you can feel yourself beginning to unravel. your legs are shaking, and your pussy clenches around his thick shaft.
"you're gonna cum for me, aren't you?”
you nod pathetically, “mhmmm y-yes!”
"cum for me, baby. let me hear how much you love my cock," he groans, his fingers tightening around your hair. his words are your undoing. your orgasm crashes over you for a second time. “fuck!" you cry out, the sound echoing throughout the barn. your pussy clamps down on his cock, earning a soft whine from him.
you’re sore as eren fucks you through your orgasm, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. the way your ass reverberates off his toned stomach has his eyes rolling back, one hand digs into your hip the other swiping his sweaty hair from his eyes. he wants to burn this into his memory, the sight of you coming undone, the smell of sex and the barn, the way your walls hug his dick, it all feels too good.
"so fucking beautiful," he praises, his thrusts becoming erratic. he's close, the pressure in his stomach building.you look over your shoulder, watching him come undone. his mouth is ajar, head dipped back, furrowed eyebrows over closed eyes. ”fill me ren, it’s all yours” you moan. your words send him over the edge.
"shit, baby. i'm gonna cum," he cries , his voice strained. both hands are on your hips now, his hips flushed against yours as he starts digging into you. "oh god, yes!" you cry, the overstimulation causing tears to form in the corners of your eyes. he slams into you a few more times before he cums, burying himself to the hilt, his cock pulsating as he fills you with his seed. "fuck," he puffs, his eyes fluttering open, his chest rising and falling. you feel his warmth spilling inside you, and the sensation brings a wave of pleasure washing over you.
he pulls out and collapses on the hay beside you, eyes closed. he’s surprised when he feels you straddle him, a guttural moan escaping his mouth as you press kisses behind his ear .” can’t get enough hu—“ his words catch in his throat as you grip his taut cock, sliding him over your cream-pied pussy. “shit,” he whimpers. “mmm, looks like i woke him up." you purr, grinding against him.
his eyes roll back, his hands finding their way to your hips once again. "fuck,” he gulps, his voice barely above a whisper.your hand slips between your legs, gathering some of the cum leaking out of you. you bring it up to his mouth, and he sucks it off your fingers. fuck, he’s so hot.
you lean forward, pressing your lips against his. his tongue slides against yours, and you taste the faint sweetness of him mixed with the tanginess of yourself. you break the kiss, looking down at him with a smirk. "you're a mess, city girl," he chuckles.you pout playfully, running a hand through his hair. "mhm, wanna make you cum again," you coo.his eyes darken with lust. "is that a threat or a promise?"
you giggle, grinding against him. "a little bit of both." he smiles, his hands wandering down to your ass, gripping your cheeks and giving them a light squeeze."you're going to be the death of me," he sighs.
"mmm, i can live with that."
“yeah—fuck.” he swears as you finally begin sinking down onto him, hands flat on his chest. he clenches his jaw, his eyes screwing shut as he fights for control. you drop slowly onto his hard length, taking him inch by inch. you gasp as he fills you, stretching and satisfying you. his hands grip your hips, guiding your movements as you begin to ride him.
you set a slow, torturous pace, rising and falling, your head feels heavy and you can’t help but cock it back, reveling in the sensation. eren's eyes are closed, his jaw clenched, as he struggled to hold on.
"faster," he grunts, his voice strained. "ride me harder."
you obliged, quickening your pace, your hips moving in a wild rhythm. the hay crunched beneath you as you rode him with abandon, your breasts bouncing with each thrust. eren's hands hold your waist tighter, helping to lift you as you slammed down onto him.
"that's it," he groans, his voice thick. "feel me, feel how deep i am inside you."
you lean forward, your breasts brushing against his chest, your nipples hardening at the contact. you kissed him hungrily, tongues tangling as you moved together in perfect harmony. you could feel your orgasm building again, whimpering at the feeling of so full again. his thick cock pressing against your sore walls, and it hurts, but the pain is pleasurable.
"s’fucking beautiful," he moans between kisses, his fingers now painfully digging into you. “shittt,” you choke, savoring the feeling of him inside you.his breathing becomes ragged, and he can feel the heat pooling in his stomach. “my god,” he shakily mumbles , hands kneading your breast as you grind your soppy pussy against him.
"you're gonna make me cum!" he warns.
"good,”
he bucks his hips, matching your rhythm.your head falls back once again the pleasure too much. you're so close. he sits up, attaching his lips to the sensitive spot on your neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.you gasp, your hand wrapping around the back of his neck. you’re bouncing on his throbbing cock now, eren’s face is buried into the crook of your neck, a series of gasps and whines erupting from him. you’re milking him so good it’s got his thighs shaking. it’s been less than a minute yet he’s already twitching inside you, your slick walls urging him to decorate you.
"ughm." he moans, his hands trailing down your back.
"that's it, baby. " you coo, your fingers curling in his damp hair, pulling slightly. "come inside me," you encourage him, voice breathy, and that's it, he loses all control, and the world shatters around him as he cums, his thrusts up into you becoming erratic. he feels the hot rush of his cum spurting inside you, and his body shudders and shakes. your name escaping his lips, over and over.
you lay like that for a long time, holding each other, until you climb off him, his hands trailing lazily over your sweat-soaked body as you lay beside him. you can feel his seed spilling out of you, and the sensation sends a little thrill through you. he strokes your face, brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “you okay? i wasn’t too rough was i?” he frowns, afraid he might’ve hurt you. you laugh, “you weren’t.” you whisper, padding your thumb across his lips.
“m’gna miss your pretty face.” he mutters into your hair, you hum, not sure what to say.the two of you stay like that, curled up together in the hay. the sun begins to set, and the orange light streams through the cracks in the wood. the crickets chirp, wind breezing through. it's peaceful. "we should probably get dressed," you sigh, knowing you have to go start packing.
"just a little longer," he pleads, holding you tighter.
"okay." the two of you lay there, watching the sun set, enjoying the feeling of being in each other's arms. you know the time will come when you have to leave, but for now, you're content. "i don't want this moment to end," he whispers, his fingers ghosting over your arm.
"me neither."
"stay with me.” he offers.
"what do you mean?" you sit up slightly. "stay with me. leave the city life behind. we can be together. i'll take care of you." you contemplate his offer. could you really leave your life behind and start over? you think about your friends, your job, and everything you'd be leaving behind. and you can’t. “i’m sorry eren, but i can’t.” you sigh, heart heavy. "i see." it’s hard to hide the disappointment in his voice. "but i'll visit, i promise." you press a kiss on his cheek, "will you now?" he turns to look at you. "of course. i don't think i could stay away from you, country boy."
a grin breaks across his face,” guess we'll just have to see about that, city girl."
as always, like, comment or reblog if you enjoyed! ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
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bewaryofpity · 11 days ago
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HONKY TONK FLAME - L. HUGHES
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[2.6k] when you hit the bar with your friends to let loose, you certainly don’t expect to catch the eye of a cute cowboy.
warnings: 18+, smut, public sex (kinda?), unprotected p in v (wrap it y'all), oral fem receiving, cum play (blink and you'll miss it), slightly unedited
a/n: i’ve seen a lot of cowboy!luke lately so here are my two cents ! also this is my first time writing something and posting it so be nice pls. if i missed any tags pls pls let me know. enjoy 🤍 !
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“I didn’t order this.”
“It’s from the gentleman over there.”
As you turned around, you spotted a guy near the pool table looking in your direction and tilting his cowboy hat at you. Raising your glass in thanks, your friends snickered at you, after all you were all here for a specific reason: find you a hookup.
“Just go there and talk to him.”
“What? No!”
It wasn’t like you were completely inexperienced. You’d had your fair share of moments, but you were shy, and your friends teased you for it, but never pushed too hard. You just didn’t have enough alcohol in you to go up and talk to strangers, not yet anyways. 
Some country song was playing on the bar’s speakers, almost clouding your thoughts as you looked back at the guy now hunched over the pool table to get his shot in. That’s a nice ass.
Downing your drink in record time —and failing miserably, leaving just two fingers of liquid in the glass— to hopefully muster the little courage you have in your body, you sat up and started walking in his direction, just to turn back around midway.
“I can’t do it, it’s fucking embarrassing.”
“Just go, Y/N! How many men do you know that buy drinks for ladies nowadays?”
That was true. You were quite dumbfounded when the bartender approached your table, let alone when you found out it was from a young guy, and a good looking one at that. What’s the worst that can happen, anyway.
You turned back around and continued your mission towards the pool table, now feeling the alcohol slowly rushing to your head. As you got closer he started to feel your presence next to him, standing back up after potting the 8 ball. 
“You alright there, Sweets?”
His hat cast a shadow over his face, leaving out the smirk painting his lips, toothpick dangling between them. You kept staring at them, tongue playing around with the small wooden stick and rolling it side to side.
“Uh, yeah, just… thank you for the drink.”
“Pleasure’s mine.” Smirk turned into a full smile after your awkward approach and now you seriously couldn’t stop staring at the way he was rolling that toothpick between his teeth, darting that tongue around.
“Well, Sweets, wanna join me in a game of pool?”
“I don’t know how to play.”
“I’ll teach you.”
You didn’t have time to answer that he already took your drink from your hand, placed it over some table behind him, and put one of his hands on your back to nudge you towards the pool table. You were paying little to no mind to whatever rules he started to explain to you, instead focusing on how his hand covered almost your entire lower back.
You were sure your cheeks were totally pink and burning because the same hand traveled up your back, leaning you forward, almost all the way bent over the table. Your brain short circuited when you felt his body press into you, cold belt buckle pressed onto your back. His hat came to your view as he leaned over, completely engulfing your body.
“You following me, pretty girl?”
“No”
He let out a breathy chuckle that sent a shiver down your spine. Your face was mere inches away from his, and you wished you had the power to tilt your head up to enjoy that smile of his, but your only focus now were his hands on the table caging you in. 
“Sweet girl, I need you to pay attention to me.” He murmured in your ear before he straightened himself, bringing you back up with his hand splayed over your stomach. You weren’t one for pet names, but if he called you any variation of sweet again you were going to lose it. And that hand on your stomach wasn’t helping you at all.
“You haven't told me your name.” You said, turning around to face him, resting your weight on the ledge of the table.
“You didn’t ask, Sweets. It’s Luke.”
“Well, Luke,” you started as you took his hat off his head to put on yours, “I’m sure you’re a great teacher, but I don’t think I wanna play pool tonight.” Not much alcohol was left in your body to justify your boldness, but the reminder of his hands on you made you dizzy, your mind completely forgoing reason.
“Is that right?”
You nodded. Now that his hat’s shadow wasn’t hiding his face, you could make out his features a lot more. Curly hair a bit unruly, eyes so green and clear you could get lost in so easily. 
“I didn’t think my Sweets was a naughty girl.”
“What do you mean?”
“You don’t know? Wear the hat, ride the cowboy.” 
Oh. Sure, you were thinking of getting to know each other more before getting to the point, but this could work too. It was the whole reason for you being here tonight, right?
Luke caged you again with his arms, his head tilted down to look at you. He removed his toothpick, throwing it somewhere on the ground, before leaning over, lips brushing your ear.
“So, are you down for some fun tonight?” 
You sobered up completely, now face to face. He was enjoying how he rendered you speechless, the corners of his lips tugged upwards as your eyes stared at them. He raised his brows in question when you kept staring instead of answering him. Not trusting your voice, you nodded.
With his arm wrapped around your waist, he led you to the door. You started to feel like a teenage girl again, you were desperate to feel him closer, to feel his body weight press you down like earlier. You were not ashamed of the ungodly thoughts that were running through your mind. The tight shirt he was wearing was leaving little to nothing to the imagination, hugging him tightly, you needed to feel those muscles.
The chill air from outside hit your still burning cheeks. The back of the bar was illuminated by a single light on the wall you could barely make out Luke’s truck. If it wasn’t for his arm wrapped around you, you wouldn’t know where to go.
You opened the passenger seat’s door just slightly when Luke slammed it shut and turned you around and simultaneously nudged your back against the door. His lips fell to your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses on his way to your jaw. You let out a soft moan when he reached that spot under your ear, feeling his smile on your skin.
Your hand grabbed at his curls, grunt silenced by your impatient lips on his. Luke trailed his hands down your spine until he reached down to your ass, squeezing the flesh and rutting his body into you. The growing bulge between his legs grazed against your thighs, his jeans rough against your skin.
“Get in the backseat.”
“Huh?”
“The backseat.”
And honestly, you don’t think you could’ve waited any longer. Luke pressed one last fiery kiss to your lips before letting you go. You crawled in the backseat and turned around to find Luke already on top of you. Locking eyes with you, he placed one hand on your thigh, the other found support on the window, before he leaned down to kiss you again.
You delved deeper and deeper into the kiss, tongues sloppy. Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his middle, heels of your feet digging into his lower back, while your hands played with the hem of his shirt. Luke bit your lower lip and you whined when he pulled away. 
“Patience, my girl. I wanna know if you taste just as sweet here.”
His rough hands roamed and touched every inch of your skin, tantalizingly rubbing his thumbs against the inner side closest to your core. He pushed your dress up, coming into view with your lace panties. Crouching between your legs and pressing a kiss to your clothed core, you let out a soft moan, desperate for him to touch you where you needed most. 
Luke brushed the tip of his nose against your clit through the lace and moved away to graze his teeth across the inside of your sensitive thighs, lips nipping at your skin, and you were certain he was marking you up nicely.
“Please, Luke, I need you.”
“No need to beg, ma’am.”
He chuckled softly, warm breath fanning out across your core, making you squirm. His fingers nudged the lace to the side and swiped two between your folds, teasing at your entrance.
“So wet f’me.” Luke murmured, kissing your hip. You took a deep breath, your back arching as he slid two digits into you, working them in and out of you gently. You jolted as he pressed his mouth between your legs, clasping his lips around your clit and pressing his tongue flat against you. You whined, your fingers slid up into his curls trying to keep his head close. Rolling your hips down against his tongue, his left hand held your hips down as his fingers drove deeper into you, curling up against your g-spot, making you moan loudly.
Luke looked up at you from between your legs, groaning at your sight. Your eyes were closed, head thrown back in pleasure, one of your hands massaging your breast. And it took everything in him to focus on something else so he didn't cum in his pants right then and there.
“Let me hear how pretty you sound when you come.” He gave your thigh a kiss before putting his mouth to work again, and you squirmed at the sensation. You were in heaven. Luke kept thrusting his fingers deep, curling them and working his tongue against your clit. His left hand kept pushing on your lower stomach to keep you still.
“Fuck, I’m so close.” You admitted, lips parted as you looked down at Luke, your fingers knotting in his soft brown hair. You were hit by your orgasm, desperate moans spilled from your lips and he still didn’t stop, tongue flicking at your clit in fast motions. Both his hands now focused on keeping your thighs spread for him, definitely leaving finger marks on your skin. You cursed, pushing yourself up on your elbows, trembling when he finally gave you mercy. 
You called out to him with a shaky voice as he stood up between your legs and pressed his lips to yours instantly. Your fingers trailed along the lines on his stomach through the shirt, reaching for the hem and pulling it up over his head, discarding it haphazardly. You kept kissing him while you popped open the button of his jeans. He was silent, lips toying at a smile as you dragged the zipper down. 
He sat back up, motioning for you to come and sit in his lap. His cock had been straining at that denim for too long, if he’d let you touch him now he could cum in his boxers, and Luke had other plans. Holding onto his shoulder with one hand and onto the roof of the truck with the other, you felt his cold belt buckle press onto your bare thigh.
Luke smashed his lips onto yours again and your fingers slid up into his curly hair, tugging lightly at his roots, the other hand busy stroking him through his boxers. He whined as you pulled away, more interested in sucking and nipping, lips pressing to a straining vein in his neck.
His hands pawed at your breasts over the top of your dress before pulling it down for easier access. You mewled, shivering as his thumb swiped over your nipple. He grazed his teeth along your nipple, wrapping his lips around the pert skin, flicking his tongue over it. 
“Please.”
“Tell me what you need baby”
“I need you inside me please.” You begged as he kept leaving open-mouthed kisses on your breasts.
“Mh, so polite.” He hummed, leaving wet kisses on his path to your lips and he rolled his hips slightly, grinding himself against you. He curled one hand into your hair and tugged softly, making you moan. 
You pull at his jeans and boxers, enough to free his aching cock, and you wrap one of your hands around its base. Luke groaned softly, lips on your throat as you rocked yourself against the head of his cock before lining him with your entrance, bottoming out completely with a gasp leaving your lips. He tugged at your hair once more, turning your head and kissing your mouth. You mewled quietly against his mouth as he lifted his hips just slightly, pressing himself deeper into you, your fingers digging into his shoulders for leverage.
Luke’s hands moved down to cup your ass and squeeze your cheeks hard between his fingers, pulling you more into him. He growled shifting his hips to change the angle deeper as he threw his head back in pleasure. Lowering your head and kissing his neck with fervor, sucking small bruises, you lifted your hips and lowered yourself onto him at a slow pace. Despite being impatient, Luke let you set the pace, rocking his hips up against you. Your desperate moans filled the truck, mixed with his soft grunts.
He sat up slightly, lips parted as he watched you lost in pleasure riding his dick. His brows knitted together as he looked down between your bodies and groaned softly. He smacked your ass harshly, leaning forwards and attaching his mouth to your skin, desperate to get a taste of you. His left hand reached blindly for his discarded hat from earlier and you giggled as he put it on your head again.
“Shit,” Luke took his lip between his teeth, as you squeezed him, “you feel so fucking good.” 
He bit at the skin of your shoulder, grinding himself up to meet you each time you came down on him, and you cried out at the feeling. 
“More.” You whimpered. You were so close as Luke kept hitting all the right spots, his hands grabbing at your hips and squeezing firmly at your plea. He interrupted your rhythm, making you whine even more, and digging your fingers into his bicep as he changed the pace by buckling his hips upwards. He was all that you could focus on, guiding you as you bounced on his cock, his eyes on your face as you rode him.
“Shit, that’s it,” Luke nodded his head, watching as your lips parted and your head dropped back, “good girl, just like that.”
He pressed his mouth to your throat as his other hand fell to your clit as he kept pounding into you. His soft groans pushed you to the edge as he fucked you through your orgasm before he pulled you off, stroking himself to chase his own. Ropes of cum coated his stomach as he came undone with a grunt. He looked so hot like this, heavy breathing, curls stuck on his forehead. 
And Luke felt like he could go for more already as you brought two fingers to his lower stomach, picking up his cum to get a taste.
“If I knew you tasted just this good, I would’ve begged to suck you off.” You moaned.
He chuckled at you, thumb stroked at your throat as he sat forwards, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You keened against his lips, breathing hard as he moved back to observe you again, lust never leaving his eyes.
“Next time, Sweets.”
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moonlitdesertdreams · 8 months ago
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On the Surface
A/N: Nothing important, please enjoy and send me more ideas! Tags: Fallout, Cooper Howard, Cooper Howard x F!Reader, Cooper Howard x You, Ghoul x Reader, Lucy MacLean WARNINGS: None Summary: Lucy knew traveling with the Ghoul would be tough, but no one told her it would be so... weird. Especially when he stops to pick up another companion along the way.
Word count: 1.2k+
(GIF credit to @talesfromthecrypts)
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Lucy surely didn’t know what to expect when she trudged along after the Ghoul and Wilzig’s dog, charmed by its new companion. 
She followed, weighed down by the revelations Moldaver had laid bare. It had pulled the curtain away from her entire life and ripped her heart to shreds. Between seeing her father flee and leaving Maximus, her mind was heavy with pain. 
The Ghoul was absolute zero on the comfort scale. He walked silently, only breaking it to mutter hypothetical questions at the dog- so affectionately called Dogmeat- and cough dryly. Lucy decided they had to have been walking for hours through sparse woods and dry ground before a flickering light appeared on the horizon. 
And after everything she’d been through, she fully expected another fight. 
But the Ghoul seemed to gain some motivation at the sight, and moved along at a quicker pace than they had been. Lucy was able to make out the shape of a small campfire burning, less than ten feet away from a fairly large, but crudely-built cabin. It was tucked into a patch of dead trees, and had what she thought to be clothes hanging on clotheslines outside. Even the dog was excited, barking loudly and jogging up to the cabin. 
Lucy stopped a few yards away, apprehension freezing her limbs into place. The Ghoul continued on, hopping lithely onto the front porch and knocking at the door. Again, she expected the occupant to come out, guns blazing, and be killed by the man at her door. 
Maybe he’d even make Lucy carve pieces of them off to make jerky again.
What she didn’t expect was the door to open, and the Ghoul to crack a smile she’d never seen. A figure- a woman- stepped out onto the porch. Lucy watched them exchange a few words before the woman leaned in towards the Ghoul and…. hugged him?
What the fuck even was this place?
The Ghoul, always cold and callous with Lucy, chuckled out loud. “Miss me, sugar?”
When she pulls away, the woman is beaming. “Every day.”
Lucy probably looks like a whole fool, jaw gaping and brow furrowed in confusion. She stares at the woman, who eventually turns an eye to her. 
“What’s this? Gettin’ some on the side, Cowboy?” The still unnamed woman trots off the porch towards the Vault-Dweller. 
Upon closer inspection, the woman doesn’t appear as angry as her statement. She’s got long hair wrapped into a complicated braided style to keep it up and out of her face. There’s a smattering of freckles over her sunburnt nose, and a jagged scar running the length of her right cheek. The gnarled tissue pulls her mouth into a scowl, but she’s otherwise well-kept. She’s probably three or four inches shorter than Lucy, but no less intimidating. 
“Calm down, woman.” The Ghoul bites. “This is Lucy MacLean.”
The woman pauses, looking back to him for confirmation before staring back at Lucy. “MacLean, eh? I can see it.”
Spurs clank as the Ghoul takes those slow, scary steps towards the woman. “Thought you might be interested in comin’ along. We’re followin’ her dad. Hank.”
A smile twists the lady’s lips, fighting against the wretched scar on her face. “Come on in. We can leave in the morning.”
And that’s how Lucy finds herself in the rickety cabin. The woman- who still hadn’t offered up a name, much like her Ghoul friend- had led her to a room and tossed a scratchy blanket and pillow in behind her. Despite her gruff exterior, she had told Lucy there was a pantry in the kitchen full of non-perishables, and cans of purified water hidden in the back. And though water sounded beautiful, Lucy was more stoked about the water purifier connected to the house. She was told there was cold but clean water in a makeshift wash room to clean up.
So Lucy took her time to freshen up in the first relatively put-together place she’d been since coming up from the Vault. The little cabin did have lights, thanks to a generator that hummed along outside. She was able to scrub the grime from her face and hands, and attempted to do the same with her Vault-suit. There was an old Nuka-cola  bottle on the floor in the washroom with ‘SOAP’ scratched across it in cursive. It lathered like any other that Lucy remembered, and she felt like a new person walking out of the wash room and back into her own little space. 
Unsurprisingly, her empty stomach reared its head in protest, and she decided she’d make one last trip to the pantry before bed. There were no voices outside of her room, just the humming of an old Television setup she’d seen on her way in. Lucy tiptoes back to the junction of the living area and pantry, but stops dead in her tracks. The lights are all off, and it takes a moment for her eyes to adjust. 
The living area right inside the door, the one she’d passed by on her way in, was occupied by both the Ghoul and his mysterious friend. However, instead of the simple sofa she’d observed prior, it was now pulled out into a bed. 
A bed in which the woman and the Ghoul were curled up,  completely unconscious. 
Lucy almost feels bad intruding on the situation, but she’s more bewildered that anyone could show such affection towards the irradiated man she’d come to hate over the past few days. And they’re not even just sharing the bed, they’re tangled together and… cuddling? The Ghoul is on his back, head propped on a pillow and hat still on his head but tipped down low to hide his disfigured face. The long coat he’d worn day in and day out is hanging over the armrest beside his bandolier, guns easily accessible. And the woman, looking relaxed as ever, is curled up on her side with her head on his chest. The Ghoul has one arm curled around her shoulder, the other loosely gripping his inhaler device as he sleeps. 
Lucy collects her jaw off the floor and scoots along to the pantry, snagging a couple ration bars and a can of water before heading back. She tries not to look again as she goes back to her room, but the temptation is too great. She pauses, turning back only to hear the click of a gun being cocked. 
In the darkness, she can only see the whites of the Ghoul’s eyes and a flash of teeth. “Move along, Vaultie.”
Lucy obeys, and practically dashes back to her room. 
So when they move out in the morning, Lucy pretends not to notice anything. When the pair stops their trek and leans in close to murmur directions at each other, Lucy taps away at her Pip-Boy. 
There’s even a time where she returns from gathering water to find them locked in a kiss, coats swaying in the Wasteland wind. And Lucy had immediately backed up, lingering in the treeline until they broke apart. 
The displays of affections continue with the travels, and it wasn’t odd to wake up to the sight of the woman curled beneath her Ghoul’s arm, content as ever. Days pass, and Lucy doesn’t mention it. It’s kind of cute, she comes to think. She didn’t dare mention anything in fear of the Ghoul’s wrath. 
So their odd trio trots along through the desert, letting Dogmeat take the lead. 
And Lucy? Well, she's learning to be blissfully ignorant towards the abnormalities on the surface.
----
thanks for reading, much love ❤️
Read More: Fallout Masterlist
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vaspider · 9 months ago
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The original song is from 1981, which, like... the lyrics reflect a different, older understanding of queerness, but -- I have to stress -- this was originally recorded in 1981, and Willie Nelson recorded a cover in 2006 [EDIT: I heard the original as a kid, and I always thought it was Willie Nelson, even before he covered it in 2006. IDK why.] And now he's recording it with Orville Peck.
Fucking rad.
Well, there's many a strange impulse out on the plains of West Texas There's many a young boy who feels things he can't comprehend And a small town don't like it when somebody falls between sexes No, a small town don't like it when a cowboy has feelings for men
And I believe to my soul that inside every man, there's the feminine And inside every lady, there's a deep manly voice loud and clear Well, a cowboy may brag about things that he's done with his women But the ones who brag loudest are the ones that are most likely queer
Cowboys are frequently secretly fond of each other Say, what do you think all them saddles and boots was about? And there's many a cowboy who don't understand the way that he feels for his brother And inside every cowboy, there's a lady that'd love to slip out
And there's always somebody who says what the others just whisper And mostly that someone's the first one to get shot down dead So when you talk to a cowboy, don't treat him like he was a sister You can't fuck with a lady that's sleepin' in each cowboy's head
Cowboys are frequently secretly fond of each other What do you think all them saddles and boots was about? And there's many a cowboy who don't understand the way that he feels for his brother And inside every lady, there's a cowboy that wants to come out And inside every cowboy, there's a lady that'd love to slip out
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sugar-phoenix · 6 months ago
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𖥔 . overheating . 𖥔
synopsis: you're out on an operation with Boothill, and after a long battle and a quick getaway, you turn to realize that the cyborg cowboy is...overheating. With all the implications that come with that. tags: f!reader (Boothill refers to reader as "Lady" and "Missy" once), no smut, fluff, light romance a/n: 1.3k words, wrote this in a craze based off of a headcanon that @k9wa and @nvuy posted about! tickled my brain too much!
ao3 link here!
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The sound of gunshots rang out in the night. You ducked in your getaway vehicle, a hover car illegally outfitted with nitrogen turbo boosters. Sticking our head out of the car every now and then, you aimed your pistol at the heads of IPC guards, knocking them dead left and right.
Boothill had been inside the IPC base for a while now. It was supposed to be a quick job. He only needed to run in, download the secret data straight to one of the USB ports on his hip, and then run out. Probably nailing an IPC soldier or ten in the head while he was there.
“Boothill,” you muttered, “where are you?”
You met the cowboy only once before this operation — he had sought you out as a fellow Ranger against the IPC for your getaway vehicle.
“’M gonna be lootin’ a pretty big IPC base, ‘n I need some kinda escape route,” he drawled. “You git me?”
You happily agreed. Why not? Anything that would be a loss for the IPC was a win for you.
Not to mention the cyborg cowboy was one of the finer men you’d come across in your travels.
Presently, you shook that thought out of your mind and fired a shot at another guard. It’s better to stay clear-headed when you’re in a shootout. Any unholy thoughts were perfectly fine to sift through in safer, calmer settings.
“Where is that dang cowboy?” you muttered again for the fifth time.
A hoot and a holler rang through the air, and you glanced towards the entrance. As though in answer to your question, Boothill emerged from within the base, running full gallop towards the vehicle.
“Start drivin,’” he ordered as he slid into the passenger seat.
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” you replied as more IPC soldiers spilled out of the entrance. The engine roared as you slammed the gas pedal to the floor.
“Ugh, turn up the A/C,” Boothill groaned.
“Turn ‘em up yourself, cowboy,” you responded. “I’m too busy making sure we’re getting away.”
The cyborg reached towards the dashboard and rotated the knob to the coolest possible setting. He leaned back into his seat, huffing and panting.
“All good?”
“Yeah. ‘S just a lot of fighting. Got me worked up.” He sniffed. “This dang A/C ain’t cool enough for me.”
You shrugged, checking the rearview mirror. The IPC vehicles were hot on your heels.  Thankfully, that wasn’t a problem for you. As an expert driver, you were fully trained in the art of evasive maneuvers. It’s what the cowboy hired you to do, after all.
You sped into the nearby city, a metropolis that conveniently had many twisty alleys and tight turns.
“This’ll be a piece of cake. Don’t you worry, cowboy,” you chuckled. The cowboy didn’t answer, and you were too busy focused on the road to check on him.
Drifting through intersections and jumping across lanes, you managed to throw off the majority of the IPC squadron pursuing you. There were only three small hover vehicles left, chasing you through a single-lane alleyway. You revved your engine to taunt them and cackled as the reverberations echoed off the buildings on either side.
The hovercar drifted, fishtailing as you made a sharp turn to the right. You swore as the sound of screaming metal rang out in the air, signaling that your spoilers had scraped against the walls.
“That’s gonna cost ya, cowboy,” you quipped, smiling as you saw two of the three vehicles crash into the wall behind you.
“Lady, I ain’t at fault for your drivin’ skills.”
You snapped your head towards Boothill, giving him a full-on death glare.
“Not that you drive bad, missy! I was just sayin,” he said, raising his hands up in surrender. It was then that you realized he’d unzipped his jacket, letting it fall lazily off his shoulders.
Heat rising to your cheeks, you snapped your attention back to the road, trying to evade the last IPC hover vehicle. A few quick turns and an IPC crash later, you pulled into a dark alleyway and braked, turning off the car.
“Why are we stoppin’?” Boothill asked.
“They’re probably swarming the city. Best to lie low for now until it all subsides.”
There was shuffling in the passenger seat, and you turned to look.
Boothill laid back against the seat, his limbs sprawled out. His bangs were arranged in wet clumps, and sweat gleamed off his face in the glow from distant neon signs. The rest of his long hair was put up along the headrest behind him, leaving his neck bare. His jacket, bandana, and hat were thrown in the back, leaving his upper torso bare for all the world to see. His pants were shrugged low on his hip, almost revealing his unmentionables (did cyborgs even have unmentionables?). Panting and huffing, he closed his eyes, frowning. You could hear a loud hum emanate from within his robot body.
“Boothill?” you croaked, fighting to speak through the feeling of your brain frying in your skull. It wasn’t just his appearance that was, well, hot, but a boiling heat was radiating off of him. You had hardly noticed in all the earlier action.
“Yes, darlin’?” He groaned. Your heart fluttered at the way he said darlin.’
“What. Are you doing?” You hardly thought the cowboy was one to give in to his darker desires at the drop of a hat, although there was something off about the scene that told you it wasn’t motivated by lust.
He chuckled before answering.
“Told ya I got worked up during that fight. I’m overheatin.’ One of the problems with having a robot body, ya get me?” Boothill breathed out heavily, his breath steaming in the air. “Fudge,” he muttered, closing his eyes and frowning again.
“Are you in pain?” you asked. His stance was akin to a man tortured, impaled from the back with hot iron spears.
“Nah, darlin,’ nothin’ like that. Just… hot, is all. Really fudgin’ hot.” Boothill let out a breath of steam again. “It’ll go away, like it always does. I jus’ need ta’ keep still for a lil’ bit. Let it cool down.”
You leaned over him, trying to ignore how close you were to his hot (both physically and metaphorically) abs, and pushed the passenger door open. It only went so far as the narrow alleyway let it, but you could feel the cold air of the night wash over you both.
“Thank ya’ kindly, darlin,’” he murmured.
“Don’t mention it,” you said, leaning back. You jumped when your arm brushed over his body.
“Did I burn ya?” Boothill didn’t move but his eyes fixed you with a worried look.
“No, you didn’t, it’s just…” You trailed off, not knowing how to end that sentence without embarrassing yourself. A heat creeped over your cheeks again.
“Oh, I see,” he smiled. “You can touch me if ya want darlin.’ I don’t bite.” He punctuated that sentence with a wide grin, showing off his shark-like teeth.
“But not right now,” he said as you tentatively reached an arm towards him. “Not while I’m hot like this. And it ain’t cause I might burn ya sweetie, but with all due respect, I ain’t wanna touch anything right this moment.”
“Got it,” you said sitting straight back in your seat.
A silence filled the car, gently broken by the whir of Boothill’s internal fans and the ambient hum of the city outside.
It was a comfortable, soft kind of silence. You let it soak into your flesh, down to your bones, etching this moment inside of yourself. It was nice.
“’Course, when I’m not overheatin,” Boothill murmured, “you’re free to touch whatever.” He grinned mischievously.
“Stop it,” you said. “You’re gonna make me overheat.”
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dividers by cafekitsune
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aethelwyneleigh27 · 7 months ago
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Cowboy!141 x Noble's Daughter!Reader (My Version of the AU)
(How you meet them)
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Synopsis: Being the daughter of a noble is a jarring task as you must be always able to keep up appearances, so what exactly happens when your family hires 4 men? Men who seem dangerous yet you know nothing about, all happening to be part of the same group of people. What happens if they take an interest in you? Someone unattainable, forbidden yet also undoubtedly tempting..
Hi lovelies! Lia here again, apologies for the delay and inactivity, I had exams, projects and the recent release of part one of Bridgerton season 3. Speaking of the series, this was inspired by that and RDR2 (none of the elements are historically accurate, I think?), I genuinely hope this does well because this account has not been doing well as of late. With my mutuals leaving Tumblr and some friends are currently ignoring me, I genuinely don't know what to do anymore. From what I know, @ghouljams was the first one who created content in the cowboy!CoD AU but mine is a lot different? So please don't kill me 😭
This will result in headcanons for the next few posts because my brain is attached to this AU so you will be seeing more Cowboy!Outlaw!141.
(Really FEM!Reader, maybe also Plus-size!(Chubby??)Reader?? I don't even know anymore)
More content: My CoD Masterlist
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Bless your noble mother's heart, although your was seen as this very respectable and intellectual man of nobility, your mother had this heart of gold having no idea that these rugged men he has newly hired were outlaws, criminals.. murderers?
Yet your father did, something about him felt sinister, well all noble money comes from not so noble cause.
Although your mother wanted you to get to know and be familiar with the newest staff members who would do all the gnarly, energy consuming and physically challenging tasks, she did not want her daughter interacting with men who would be considered improper like seemingly mysterious men who happened to be from a far town looking for a living.
Well without your father's or mother's knowledge, that rule was thrown out the window the moment you saw one of them carrying over some of the crates that contain given by some men to your father for his services and connections, particularly drawn to the one who never seemed to take off the cloth on his face.
Something about the way he stared at you, not seeing the rest of his face, depriving you of clues as to how he felt upon seeing the only lady of the house. You gave him a warm smile, for a moment you thought you saw his lips through the mask perk up, before walking off to the lounging hall for your tutoring on language.
It was odd, you observed them from afar a lot, your personal garden was your sanctuary and you can't help but do so when they talked so loudly, no sign of inside voices.
They called each other names.. Price, Gaz, Soap and Ghost. The man you encountered was named Ghost? Surely it's some alias. Well that wasn't something you should fixate on anyway so you leave for your tasks.
You find yourself feeling a little out of it after your lessons, hoping that a little stroll through the stables behind your family's estate would either help the information sink in or keep it shun out of your mind. Either way you'd find yourself in tranquil, you heard a thud behind you and turn to find so called "Ghost" behind you.
He had dropped a crate, one filled with weapons and uncharacteristically hastily picked up all of them without paying much attention. Such an action caused him to unknowingly cut his finger on one of the blades that fell out of it's sheath.
Your eyes filled with concern as you rush over to take his hand in yours before he tried to brush off the cut and get back to his duties. You knew it was dumb to be worried over something so small that the grown man doesn't even flinch and yet there you were, practically cradling his hand in yours.
A white handkerchief that was embroidered with your favorite flowers by your own mother, something you held dear and kept pristine.. using it on his finger to keep the blood from further gushing and wipe off whatever of the red residue was left on his hand.
As the blood stopped to your relief, you brought his finger and spontaneously pressed a feather-like kiss on the wound. You were so used to doing that for your little cousins, nieces and nephews that it was just a force of habit, your face flushed the very moment you looked up to meet his gaze, what possessed you to do that?
You placed the handkerchief in his hand and composed yourself, you told him to keep it and to bring the wound to the physician to get some antiseptics before running off to god knows where.
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A few days after that incident, you meet another one of them except..
You couldn't help but rush, you were late for this supposedly short promenade your family has spontaneously planned. Your favourite gloves are no where to be found and with the three sisters you have, you checked room to room, seeing who might've borrowed the lacey white fabric with the sewn in bows.
Without looking your body slams into a wall, is it a wall? You softly groan, your delicate fingers brushing on your forehead that felt like it would bruise later on. Your eyes remained closed for a few seconds as the impact caused you to feel shaken, light headed.
You open your eyes to one of the outlaws, you blink up as your vision adjusted a bit, his dark skin against the light from the window really did something..
"Are you hurt, my lady?" He asked, his deep voice was smooth and rich, almost velvety. He held you up from falling.
"N-no.. Thank you, uhh..."
"Kyle, her ladyship can call me Kyle. Although I hope it's not too informal to your status, my lady." You smiled at his words, certainly a respectful fellow despite him and his group's reputation.
You felt warmth on your sides, his palms against the fabric that separates his skin on yours, he was only being kind for steadying you after you almost fell from the earlier impact but his touch felt addicting, too much as it continued to linger.
"Kyle, it is then" You said softly, suddenly a bit more aware of your surroundings.
Fuck. He was sure he felt something just by hearing the way his name fell from your lips. Normally he'd give people, employers only and only his last name. He was so used to having been called by "Garrick", he had no idea his name would sound different, so sweet coming from a pretty maiden's lips.
He stutters for a moment, realizing that his hands are touching a lady inappropriately, something only someone she's married to would have the privilege of doing. He swiftly removed his hands from your waist and formally excused himself from your presence with the excuse of his duties.
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The next time you met one of them was through your mother's ball, she was always the first to throw one to bless the upcoming season of hopes that you, your sisters and brothers shall wed soon.
You had no taste for it after having a lord step on your feet at least 20 times and not even bother to apologize with how high of a pedestal he puts himself in, you found yourself escaping through the back of your estate to the gazebo in the center of your beloved garden.
You took your tight, restricting shoes off and felt the grass on your feet as you walked toward the gazebo, now close enough to see that you weren't alone but you still continued, your feet against the cooling marble platform. You sigh as you prop yourself to sit on the stone railing next to the stranger who was currently taking a puff of his cigar.
You turned your head away, you were thrown into a fit of coughs from the strong scent of the smoke while you swatch some of it away. You tried not to heave for actual air to breathe while the man next to you chuckles, making you feel irritable.
"M'sorry love.." his gruff voice whispers which make you turn towards him, the man offering you a comforting smile.
"Shouldn't you be in there with your family, miss?" Price asked. To which you hum, "I wanted some "fresh air" and silence" you answered. Moments of silence have passed, nothing but the sound of wind that rattled the trees a bit and each other's breaths.
You look towards the light of windows of your home, the ballroom filled with laughter and talk of celebration. You sighed, knowing you must return as your parents would come looking for you, also not wanting for them to punish you for sticking around unchaperoned with their new hires.
He knew you were about to leave, it would be rude for a gentleman to leave a lady without help, hmm? He wasn't a gentleman though, an outlaw, one of the worst titles one can ever bestow a man. He was considered to be of low honor but who cares?
He kneels down on one knee in front of you, gently taking your leg in his huge hand using his thigh as leverage so he can gently slip on you shoes. For a moment you felt his forehead on your knee before he pulls away and offers you his hand..
You took it hesitantly as he helped you off the railing, you look up at him meeting his eyes. Something about them burned, making your stomach churn but not in a manner of discomfort.
You watched his back as he walked away, his footsteps on the cold marble the only thing to be heard as the noise died down..
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The morning after, you've barely had enough sleep, was it the events of the previous night? Nevermind, at least you had a day or two for yourself after conducting a proposition to your parents. Free time was worth it for the sore feet you had to endure.
Not really in the mood to change into anything tight or itchy, you remain in your night clothes. Finally, some well deserved time alone, comfortable and flipping pages of a book was your type of thing.
Sure, socializing has it's benefits however nothing beats your time alone or so you thought you were alone..
A table and a few chairs were set up by the servants to your request at the gazebo, giving you the perfect view of the greenery that you have planted the seeds of.
You had your head comfortably leaned onto lounge as you continued reading. Buts something was just so distracting, a few minutes of the constant snipping and twigs breaking, you look up wanting to see who was there tending to the garden.
Your eyes widened a bit, it was improper for a lady to stare a man who has very less clothing. Nothing but his jeans, belt and hat keeping his face shielded from the heat is toned, muscular and tanned torso and arms exposed.
A little later, you hear a grunt coming from the man, Soap was it? You can't quite remember much from the night you eavesdropped on them. You heard his footsteps on the grass nearing the gazebo but you didn't bother to look up, not until..
"Ma'am? May I stay 'ere a moment? Afraid the heat is getting to me" You look up from your book and sit up to see the same man breathless. You nodded and watched as he sat on the stairs, hands on his knees as he caught his breath.
"Excuse me.." You said, loud enough to hear and catch his attention, he looks back from his position. You moved one of the chairs to face your lounge, "Please invite yourself here, I can only think of how uncomfortable the floor might be, especially when you are working at a weather like this one" Signaling him to take a seat on the chair you adjusted.
He gets up yet reluctantly makes himself comfortable on the seat, you pick a drinking glass on display from the silver tray and poured some of the cold lemonade into it, you place it down on the table and slide it to him, offering a warm smile. Your fingers on the base of the drinking glass slightly brushing against his as he takes it.
He thanks you for it and you both enjoyed the tranquil and peace.. yet you can't go back to your book, asking questions and being further interested by the man each minute passes.
The way he talked was something else, it was alluring, comforting and oddly lively, he's told you about his "past" and how he used to be a child.
"Was quite the troublemaker you see, though my family was poor and food was scarce, I found a way to feed the street animals I adore—"
You look at him, so invested on what he was about to say next, it was refreshing to have someone to converse with who isn't interrogating you and practically forcing their ideals of how many babies they want you to birth for them, practically wanting you to die for them.
"I used to steal bread from my neighbor, not a very nice man, selfish really. So I'd often sneak into his shack, leftovers, scraps and anything light enough for me to carry. I'd bring it to Lassie, my favorite stray dog. You remind me a lot of her Bonnie" He said.
"I remind you of a dog?" You weren't so sure if that's a compliment, then again he just called you "Bonnie", what exactly does that mean?
"Home, you remind me of home. Can't say I have felt this comfortable in years, friends and I are usually reserved yet you bring this side out of me, Bonnie. So what spell or witchcraft did you use?" He joked raising a brow at you, for a moment his attention falters as he looks down at the soft mounds of skin exposed on your chest.
"Eyes up here, Johnny."
You warned as you laugh at his question, you notice one of the servants coming out from the estate and into the garden, Johnny smiles and tips his hat to you to excuse himself so that he could get back to work.
Well this is interesting.. isn't it?
Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @snowdjinnofpalestine @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @iexiam @drewsmusee @konigceo
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eowynstwin · 4 months ago
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Blackbird, Fly - One
Cowboy Gaz x mail order bride—only, not his. After exchanging letters for half a year with ranching man Hans König, you finally travel out west to marry him. - You stand alone on a train platform, whole life in your hands, ready to promise yourself to a man you’ve yet to meet. - ao3
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You step off the train carrying every one of your earthly possessions clutched in both hands. In one a carpetbag, only half-full, and in the other, a stack of letters tied together with string. A paltry summary of a very small life, you thought months ago, but today you only see how much room is left over where happiness might take root.
It began with an ad in the paper—Widowed Ranch Owner Seeking Tender Companionship—and a mailing address to a livestock town out in the west. Hans König described himself as Austrian, unusually tall, and fair lonesome in a big ranch house with no woman to make it a home. He’d immigrated to the United States as a child, married very young, had no children, and was forced to watch his first wife perish to consumption.
After two years of mourning, he said in the paper, he finally accepted that she would not want him to live and die alone. And thus, if there were any kind-hearted lady willing to give an old widower a chance, he would promise to take very good care of her.
You’d replied as fast as you could get your hands on paper and pen. The fourth child and only daughter of a tobacco farmer, you hadn’t much else to occupy yourself with. And truly, you hadn’t expected anything to come of it. Proficient in the written word though you were, there was not much else to recommend you. You brought a tiny dowry, skill with a sewing needle, a general knowledge of plants, and mediocre cooking to the bargaining table; he was horse man tried and tested by the challenges of the frontier.
You were under no illusions that you were the most attractive candidate.
Still, you wrote your letter. Described yourself to him as honestly as you could—neither especially pretty nor particularly accomplished, but told by friends and family to be of gentle demeanor and useful intelligence. Forgave him preemptively if he never responded, and wished him the best of luck in his search for a wife.
You’d nearly fainted dead away when his response had arrived as immediately as the next mail wagon. Hans König had addressed you by name, as intimately as if he’d known you for years, and said,
I was very pleased to receive your letter, Miss, and am terribly excited to correspond with you in the future. Although you write that you cannot imagine yourself an appropriate wife for a man of my experience, I myself cannot imagine what more you must need to be such. While I will not do you the discourtesy of making any promises with only my first letter to you, I will tell you truly that I was glad of your introduction, and hope you will grant me the pleasure of knowing you further.
Your whole family had been so excited for his response that Pa had broken out his fiddle after dinner that night, rejoicing already that his little girl’s future was secure.
What followed was a whirlwind half year of romance over letters sent back and forth so fast that you kept running out of ink for your pen. When you’d related this problem to Hans, he’d sent not only an entire box of lampblack ink, but a new steel pen, blotter, and lap desk on which to write.
There is no greater misfortune I can imagine now than to lose the pleasure of your correspondence, he’d written.
Pa had cried that day. Your mother had drawn you close and kissed your hair, whispering a thankful prayer that her baby was going to be alright.
In every letter, Hans demonstrated himself to be a kind man, thoughtful and patient, and as the relationship between the two of you blossomed, you started to believe it yourself. You had long given up on the possibility of marriage, thinking yourself too old and plain by now to offer much to any man worth marrying.
Now you stand alone on a train platform, whole life in your hands, ready to promise yourself to a man you’ve yet to meet.
There are only a few people milling about the station for you to survey. The surest way to pick Hans out from a crowd, he’d written, was by height. He towered over most people, and expressed hope in an early letter that he would not dwarf you too much.
But as you look around, no one stands out above the rest. In fact, the people here aren’t much different than what you’re used to; their simple dress and slight grubbiness prove them to be working folk, the kind you’d expect in a town like this, stockyards visible from the station. Your kind of people—at least normally.
Anticipating this meeting, you’d put on the best dress you own, a light frock with little printed flowers all over it. Your hair is braided and pinned up as fashionably as you could manage early this morning, and you’d even dabbed a little rouge on your lips for the occasion. As far as you can tell you are the cleanest, best-dressed person in the vicinity, and you notice not a few people openly staring.
The thought would usually make you blanch, but right now you hope it will only help your would-be husband to catch sight of you. You still can’t find him—
“Mrs. König!”
You whip your head in the direction of the call. Relief trickles through you, soothing an anxiety you hadn’t wanted to acknowledge yet, and then you see that stepping onto the platform is the handsomest man you’ve ever laid eyes on.
Dark skin, warm as a summer’s day. Lips soft and full like a peach fresh-picked from the tree. A serious brow over serious eyes.
Strong and lean in build, with a loose, confident swagger in his step. He approaches, his large, long-fingered hands coming to rest on the buckle of his belt as comes to stand before you.
Tall, to be sure.
But not unusually tall.
This cowboy—profession evidenced by the worn state of his attire—is not your intended husband.
Something in you falls at that.
Swiftly you berate yourself for the betrayal. Your Hans is gentle, generous, kind. So what if this man before you is attractive? Marriages must be built on more, and Hans has already given you more. His looks shouldn’t—don’t—matter to you at all.
“Not as of yet,”you reply to the cowboy, “but soon. May I help you, sir?”
He fixes you with an intense gaze. Up close, you see thick, dark lashes framing even darker eyes—the color of which, you realize, is as black as fresh-turned soil.
The smell of humus fills your memory, powerfully earthy and fresh, such that you could be on your hands and knees with your face to the ground right now. You feel the phantom of it between your fingers; rich and cool, like at the start of the planting season before the rains. So dark and fine as to live between the grooves of your fingertips for days.
“I’m Kyle Garrick,” he says, pressing a hand to his chest. “I’m a wrangler for Hans König, miss. He sent me to meet you.”
You blink. The fantasy you’d dreamed up on the train ride—of seeing Hans across the platform, recognizing him instantly, and running into his arms—finally crumbles into dust.
“Oh,” you say.
Kyle Garrick frowns. “You’re disappointed.”
“No!” you exclaim immediately. “No, he must be such a busy man, I couldn’t expect him to drop everything for me.”
The cowboy sucks his lips between his teeth, studying you for a heartbeat, then—“He is busy. Mr. König is finishing preparations for your wedding this evening. That’s why he couldn’t come.”
What disappointment had begun to sprout in your stomach immediately strangles down to the root. Joy surges in your chest like birds taking flight.
“A wedding!”
You didn’t need a wedding, you’d written to him—you were so happy merely to marry him, you couldn’t possibly ask for more. All you needed, you told him, were his hands in yours, promising before God to be your husband for the rest of your lives. You’d meant it, too.
But an actual wedding!
“Biggest the town’s seen in years,” says Kyle Garrick. “Folks haven’t talked about anything else for weeks.”
“Oh!” Then suddenly you despair. “Oh, I’m not dressed at all for a wedding. If I’d known, I would’ve worked on this dress more, I would’ve put my hair up better!”
Kyle surprises you with sudden passion. “You look perfect. You’re the prettiest thing that’s ever come into this train station, miss. This town, even.”
“Oh,” you say again. You flush hot up into the roots of your hair. Embarrassed, you avert your gaze, looking down at his worn roper boots. “I’m not, really. But it’s kind of you to say.”
His hand touches yours, the one holding onto your carpetbag. When you look back up at him, his expression is gentler.
“Mr. König will agree with me,” he says, “I promise.” He eases the handle from your grasp. Up close, he has a comforting smell. Leather, and sweet hay, and campfire smoke.
“You think so?” you ask, tightening your grasp on the letters in your other hand.
He nods. “I do. Now come on—I brought a cart. Let me take you home.”
-
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shotmrmiller · 4 months ago
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pretend boyfriend but it's in a time where roads are nothing more than muddy tracks, making travel slow and cumbersome. the town's buildings are a mix of weathered wood and crumbling brick, faded paint peeling off their facades. wanted posters, yellow and tattered, are plastered on every available surface, faces of outlaws and fugitives who roam the countryside depicted in greyish ink.
the townsfolk go about their lives with a wary eye, and you go about yours with a sharp one, in search of opportunity: a cowboy too drunk off his wits to know his right from his left. the humble borough of blackthorn doesn't need any more working girls, no more ladies with hair down to their corseted waists beautifying the arms of both bounty hunters and farm hands alike.
that's fine, you reckon. you've always had a knack for survival. your deft fingers have made a living out of slipping into pockets and relieving men of their hard earned coin pouches when they lose themselves in drink and laughter. its not an easier life than that of the ladies in the saloon but it's yours, and you've learned to navigate it with equal cunning and charm.
but as people say, anything that can go wrong, will and tonight nothing seems to go right for you. just as you'd been slipping the stolen bills from your latest mark in between the swell of your breasts, he stirs from his drunken sleep, bedsheet tangled in his spurs as he struggles to rise onto unsteady feet. his movements are sluggish, muddy brown eyes blinking against the dim light of the quaint room.
you don't wait for him to ask any inane questions, you know when you've been caught with your hand in the cookie jar. you run out the door on bare feet, fisting the rough fabric of your dress to lift it above your ankles as you barrel down the stairs.
your shoulders ache from bumping into patrons as you try to quickly weave your way toward the door, your breath coming in ragged, panicked gasps. the saloon is a blur or faces and noise, the jaunty tune coming from the piano as fast paced as the galloping of your heart.
just as you reach the swinging doors, you glance outside through the dusty window panes and see someone right across the street in the patio of the drugstore.
the star on his chest gleaming even in the flickering light of the shop is distinctive. your heart sinks like a stone dropped into a well, the weight of the situation leaden over your puffed shoulders.
but you haven't made it this far while skirting around law and order without a sharp mind. your thoughts swirl in your mind as you run through options. a horse loosely tied to the hitching post out front, sleeping roll behind the saddle. you could take it but risk getting roped off by someone. slipping out the windows would draw too much attention. using the back door near the kitchen would have the owner on your arse.
shit. shit-
then you spot him. sitting alone at a table is a hulking, beast of a man. (his broad shoulders and burly frame makes him resemble more mountain than man tbh.) a small shot glass rests on the scratched surface before him, the only delicate item in his vicinity. the wide-brimmed hat he wears casts a shadow over his face but the glint in his eyes is unmistakable. maybe that's why even the other patrons have given him a wide berth. (the knotted scar that runs from the corner of his cheek pulling his lips into a permanent, twisted sneer makes the hair on the nape of your neck stand on end.)
desperation fuels your next move.
your hand trembles when you place it on the the exposed skin of his forearm that's covered in a fine layer of grime, as does your voice when you speak.
"hey-" you don't get to finish your sentence, feeling the words crumble into ash on your tongue when you realize you're out of time. the drunken idiot from upstairs is storming straight towards you, his nostrils flared, white etched on his knuckles. panic surges through you and so you move.
coming to stand behind the seated stranger, your arms cradle his large head, clammy palms flat on the sweat stained fabric of his union shirt. his body tenses under your touch, muscles cooling like a spring, but you muster all the bravado you can.
"if ya got a problem with me," your voice is steady despite the fear that's settled at the base of your spine, "take it up with my husband."
the drunk comes to an abrupt halt, his anger momentarily replaced by confusion, uncertainty, as he glances between you and the human(?) shield you're clinging to.
the room has fallen silent, all eyes on the unfolding drama. they watch with bated breaths, even the bartender had paused mid-polish, his hand frozen on the glass.
the man wavers, his resolve crumbling like freshly tilled dirt before you. but the final nail in the coffin is when your 'husband' grabs onto your arm and leads you to sit onto his lap, both your legs fitting on top of his one, feeling the tarnished buckle of his leather belt even through the couple of layers of your dress on your arsecheek, his arm cinching tightly around your waist.
his skin feels rough, scarred, yet warm, beneath your hand. (embarrassing that this surprises you.)
you can feel his voice vibrate from his chest and sink into your bones when he aids you in this mess you've created. "ya 'eard m'wife. piss off 'fore i make you."
his mouth twists into an ugly line but concedes defeat, telling your 'husband' to "keep his wh-wife on a tighter leash unless she's keen on ending up on a missing poster alongside the wanted ones."
when you turn in his lap to look outside the window, watching the drunk unsteadily get on his horse and leave, you give the man you're on a muted thanks and move to get up only-
the arm around your waist feels more like an iron band. you're can't get up. you can't leave. your feet don't even touch the wooden floorboards of the saloon. you turn your wide eyes toward him, lips parted in surprise.
he doesn't seem as surprised as you.
"wha'? thought you could jus' up and go 'bout your way?"
you open your mouth wider, to scream maybe, you aren't sure but he cuts you off with a sharp suck of his teeth.
"make trouble and there will be trouble. i'll drag your pretty arse to the sheriffs office by the hair."
the realization of what he is keeps you utterly frozen in place, any fight you'd had bleeding out of you.
a bloody bounty hunter. no wonder everyone had kept their distance.
"i'm gonna be finishin' this bottle and you'll be a good wife and draw me a bath in our hotel room."
(he plucks the dirty money from where you'd kept it and tosses it on the bar top, carrying you straight to where he'd hitched his horse and plops you in front, your back to his barrel of a chest. "youll bathe with me, gotta have you clean for our consummation.")
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