#that shit always makes me take my cowboy hat off and toss it in the air like WAHOO

[pilkypills]

fics don’t have to have Bofur and/or Ori as Bilbo’s best friends but when they do to me its like that one post about seeing frogs on lily pads like hell yeah brother thats exactly where you’re supposed to be

[chukys-mouthguard]

why not both

5.4K words

genre: smut

warnings: minors DNI, 18+ content; threesome, dirty talk

featuring: jamie drysdale x female reader x cam york

summary: when two men are fighting over who gets to sleep with you, why not choose both?

note: the reader and Cam often call Jamie “jim” or “jimmy” in this as a nickname. Also, this is my first ever attempt at writing a threesome, these 2 men just really needed to be written together in my opinion 🥵 I’m not super proud of this but hopefully y’all like it 🫶🏼

Giving yourself a once over pulling at the hem of your skirt, you questioned if it was too short. Knowing the boys you were hanging around they’d surely love if it was, so you opted to ask Jamie, the least likely to undress you with his eyes and give you his honest opinion.

“Jamieee!”

Soon enough the jet black haired boy appeared in the doorway of your bathroom, his outfit making you chuckle.

“I swear to god you and Cam really said what’s the most generic outfit to wear for a country music festival…anyways, thoughts?”

Hands on your hips you did a spin, giving him the opportunity to take in your outfit. A black mini skirt and black cowboy boots, paired with a white tank top that read j’adore cowboys and a black cowboy hat to top it off. Jamie’s jaw slightly parted as he looked you up and down.

“I feel like I reallyyy dropped the ball now seeing you.”

He flashed you a shy smile as you took his words as a sign that you looked good. Tipping your cowboy hat to him as you walked past, stealing his High Noon in the process as you tossed back the remnants that were in the can.

“Thanks Jimmy!”

The sounds of Morgan Wallen blasting from the kitchen of the airbnb as you walked in to find Cam pouring shots for you all.

“Where the hell is everyone?”

Noticing the house was empty you checked the time, assuming you were running late as you usually did. However today you managed to be almost 30 minutes early, a new record for you.

“They are on their way and-holy shit, someone is trying to get all the cowboys hot and bothered today huh?”

Cam flashed you a cocky smirk as he handed you a shot, leaning against the counter while he took in your outfit. Playing with the silver sparkly chain that laid over the skin of your exposed stomach.

“Don’t you know that necklaces are meant for your neck?”

Cam leaning in towards you, grinning from ear to ear before you’d mirrored him, your faces inches from one another.

“Don’t you know that I don’t give a fuck?”

Raising your eyebrows you tossed back your shot, giving him a wink before Jamie joined the two of you asking for his own.

The dynamic between the two boys was one you’d never fully understood, but it made sense. Cam was outspoken, a cocky fuck to put it plainly, who would tell you exactly what he wanted to say, whether it was something you wanted to hear or not. The energy between the two of you was always one of trying to one up each other, your competitive sides always on display. But Jamie, he was the total opposite. Soft spoken, mindful of anything and everything that came out of his mouth. He was the one you went to for advice, the late night talks where you’re up until 3am eventually forgetting the point of the conversation.

Though bringing the two of them together always guaranteed a good time. Hot guys, alcohol, and a music festival, a girl was living the dream.

Once the rest of your group had arrived, it was time to head out. The girls of course needing to take tons of pictures before leaving, making the boys roll their eyes but giving them the opportunity to toss back a few more shots.

“Why’d she call you to her room earlier Jim?”

Cam shot Jamie a playful smirk as the boys trailed behind the girls on the long path to the entrance gates, to which he shook his head with a laugh.

“No way dude, don’t even go there. She asked me what I thought of her outfit.”

Rolling his eyes Cam threw an arm over Jamie’s shoulder. His voice now just above a whisper as he didn’t want the group to overhear.

“You’re telling me that outfit she has on isn’t driving you crazy? Cause shit, she is driving me crazy right now in that mini skirt.”

“Keep it in your pants dude!”

Jamie shoved Cam from his side with a laugh, trying to ignore his friend's comments. Cam just putting his hands up with a shrug. “Listen Jim, if you won’t finally make a move, I just might.”

Jamie had hid his feelings for you since the day you’d met. He had never seen a girl so beautiful, but he wasn’t the type to be forward and blunt about how he felt. Unlike Cam who made it known that he thought you were hot and would do anything for a chance with you. Jamie had told Cam in confidence one night how he felt, at the time not knowing that Cam felt the same way. And since then it had been their secret, one that almost brought out the competitiveness between them whenever the three of you got together.

-

Several hours into the festival, having been spent in the direct sunlight, it was safe to say you were in need of water and food. Thanking yourself for picking an outfit that didn’t have much fabric so you were somewhat cooler than those who had multiple layers. The boys benefited from the fact that they could simply take their shirts off, while you could only put your hair up in hopes of it cooling you down.

“If I don’t get french fries in my mouth in the next five minutes, I might actually die.”

You groaned as you sat on the grass, fanning yourself with you hat as your friend group followed suit. All of you trying to rest before you headed off to the next artist’s stage.

“Someone ask for some french fries?”

Jamie smiled as he sat down next to you, handing you a basket of fries, seeing the look on your face as you practically scarfed them down in seconds.

“I could kiss you right now Jamie oh my god!”

The phrase making his eyes go wide, despite knowing that there was likely no intention behind it. Though he couldn’t help but think back to Cam’s words from earlier. Hoping that maybe today, in a moment of drunken false confidence, he’d work up the courage to finally make a move.

“Oh my god!”

Jamie was shook from his thoughts as he looked at you, concerned that something was wrong.

“What!?”

“You even remembered I love ranch with my fries? God I love you Jamie!”

He softly smiled as he was happy to know he’d made your day remembering such a minor detail about you. The two of you sitting in silence as you refueled yourselves before heading off to the next spot.

“I really do like your outfit today by the way. Sorry I got a little tongue tied when you asked me this morning.”

You watched Jamie slightly blush as he spoke, his eyes not connecting with yours as he seemed almost nervous about his words. A smile on your face as you continue munching on your fries.

“Tongue tied? Because of?”

“How hot you looked, obviously.”

The words catching you off guard coming from Jamie, sure he’d complimented you before but never so bluntly. Perhaps it was the alcohol, or maybe the heat was getting to him. But it was a side of him you liked. Having spent so much time with Cam you thought for sure he would’ve gained some of Cam’s confidence, his boldness. But he’d remained the kind and gentlemanly man he’d been since the day you met, which you appreciated in contrast to Cam. Though sometimes you wanted to see that cockier side of Jamie, and see him be more outspoken. Not let Cam run the show or call the shots so much.

“You think I look hot?”

“Oh absolutely, you alwa-“

“Don’t mind if it do!”

Cam interrupted Jamie’s words as he pushed between the two of you, stealing a few fries from your basket before he tipped his hat to you and blew you a kiss.

“Thank you little lady.”

You rolled your eyes at him, shaking your head before you looked back at Jamie who was awkwardly laughing off the situation. Almost thankful Cam interrupted so he didn’t end up saying what he planned.

You tucked some hair behind your ear as he offered to help you stand up, taking your empty fry basket and tossing it in the trash as your group was ready to start walking again.

“Jamie, you were saying something? Before we were rudely interrupted!”

Making the gesture as if you were going to kick Cam in the butt as you empathized your words, causing Jamie to laugh.

“Just that, you always look hot to me.”

He flashed you a wink before one of the guys had called him away for something, lucky for you as a blush was quickly creeping over your cheeks. Hopefully disguised as you just being flush from the heat so no one would think much of it.

As your group made your way to the final stage of the night, you all had grown eager for the final performer. It was the main reason you’d come to the festival, and you all were ready to sing until your voices gave out.

Onlookers probably thought your group was annoying, the way you all belted out the lyrics, dancing around with one another. But none of you cared, enjoying every second of the night you all had been looking forward to all summer.

As you danced around, you noticed Jamie standing and talking with Trevor, drinks in hand like two awkward freshman at their first college party. Making your way over to them, you grabbed Jamie’s hand, attempting to bring him out of his shell a bit.

“Jamie don’t make me dance alone, come onnn!”

He smiled down at you as you took his hands in yours, laughing as you belted out the words along with the crowd. But despite being as drunk as he was, he wasn’t giving you much to work with. Simply rocking back and forth as he watched you. A smile on his face as he’d wondered if this was his chance, to make his move like Cam had teased him about.

But as the song came to an end, you’d let go of his hands and clapped along with the crowd. Looking on in anticipation as you all tried to predict the next song, Jamie immediately missing the feel of your hands in his as he rejoined Trevor at the back of the group.

The second the slower strums of the guitar started, you threw your hands to your hat in shock, searching the area for Cam as you knew his reaction would be similar. This song had been your favorite from the album, and you’d each had it on repeat for weeks leading up to tonight.

He’d found you from across the group, the two of you immediately belting out the words as he wrapped his arms around you, swaying you to the music before he’d switched to slow dancing.

Jamie watched as you threw your head back laughing, the way Cam’s hands were resting at your waist, beating himself up for being too concerned about what people thought to dance with you how you’d wanted. He couldn’t blame Cam for the way he acted around you, Cam wasn’t afraid to show you how he felt towards you. And you seemed to appreciate the boldness of him. And while Jamie felt he expressed his feelings in other ways, he was starting to think that it wasn’t good enough.

-

After several hours in the sun and far too much alcohol, you all were ready to head home. The house was only a short walk once outside the fairgrounds, but your feet were killing you in your boots and you were sure they would be covered in blisters. Every step hurt worse than the last, and you were ready to take your boots off and leave them behind.

“Ouch, fuck.”

Jamie noticed you wincing as you walked, and in true Jamie fashion he’d thought up an idea. Stopping you in your tracks, he’d positioned himself in front of you, slightly bending down before instructing you to jump.

Normally you’d question him whether or not he was sober enough to carry you, but with the alcohol flowing through your system and the pain in your feet, you gladly accepted. Wrapping your arms around his neck, his arms around your thighs, the two of you were the closest you’d ever been. Your cheek practically touching his as he carried you with ease down the trail.

His eyes occasionally catching yours before you’d look away embarrassed. Luckily the amount of alcohol in your system and a slight sunburn was hiding any blush that had appeared on your cheeks.

“You good?”

Jamie smirked at you as his eyes traveled from yours to your lips, then back. Something in them was different, and you felt almost nervous to be so close to him. Taking the time to appreciate how good he smelled, the way his face lit up when he looked at you. Sure you’d always thought Jamie was attractive, but you’d never thought about him in that way. But feeling his biceps flex as he carried you with ease, his hands gripping your thighs just beneath your ass, you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol getting you warm or something else.

“Giddy up cowboy!”

The sting of Cam slapping your ass quickly pulled you out of the moment with Jamie as you playfully yelped. A hand leaving Jamie’s neck to grab at your ass, rubbing the sore spot before you cursed Cam.

“Don’t have it on display if you don’t want me touching it, little lady.”

He playfully tipped his hat at you, flashing a wink before he ran to catch up with some of the guys.

“He’s such a perv.”

You laughed as your arm returned to wrap around Jamie’s neck. Noticing how Jamie’s expression had turned a bit annoyed, not used to seeing him that way.

“Jamie, what’s wrong?”

He shook his head, trying to laugh it off and pretend like it was nothing. Embarrassed that he was even getting jealous over Cam’s interactions with you.

“Nothing, it’s, it’s nothing.”

You glared at him as he kept his eyes forward, knowing him all too well to believe that it was simply nothing. He could feel your eyes practically burning a hole in his cheek, finally letting out a sigh as he gave in.

“I mean, it’s not like it’s anything you don’t already know. It’s silly that I’m even bothered by Cam wanting to fuck you so bad.”

You practically choked on your own saliva hearing the words pour from Jamie’s mouth. Sure you knew that Cam flirted with you, hell he flirted with every girl that crossed his path. But either you don’t know him well enough, or you’re just oblivious to him wanting to sleep with you.

“Um, actually I didn’t know that…but why does that bother you?”

Jamie knew he could risk jeopardizing his friendship with you, but Cam was right. He needed to finally man up and make a move or he’d never have the chance.

“Because I obviously like you too. You can’t tell me you’ve never noticed it? I mean I don’t run around slapping your ass and drooling over you in front of your face. But, Cam and I feel the same way. We have for, well forever.”

“So you want to fuck me too?”

Jamie bit his tongue, unsure if he should open up a can of worms with his response. He knew the second he’d admitted how he felt, there was no turning back.

-

“You fucking told her?”

Cam’s voice was barely above a whisper as he scolded Jamie, shocked to know he’d finally grew a pair and told you how he felt. But not without dragging Cam into the mix along with him.

“Well, you told me to make a move, but then you were busy making a move and I got jealous and she noticed and it just slipped out!”

The two of them whisper bickering back and forth, trying not to make too much noise for you to overhear as you’d gone to take your hat and boots up to your room.

“It slipped out for you to tell our best friend that we both want to fuck her? Jimmy I swear to god I could kill you!”

Walking into the kitchen you couldn’t help but notice the two boys awkwardly stopping their conversation. Both of them smiling at you as if to cover up something.

“Um, hi?”

“Hey, how uh, are your feet feeling?”

Jamie tried his best to break up the awkwardness, Cam slightly laughing at his choice of a convention starter as he walked over to the island to crack open a drink.

“What is going on with you two?”

Leaning on the counter as you snacked on some chips, holding a hand out for Cam to pass you his drink so you could steal a sip. His eyes darting from Jamie to you as he handed it over, a smirk on his lips as he chuckled.

“Look, I know Jamie let the cat out of the bag. So, we just want to know, who would you pick?”

Leaning against the counter as he took his drink back from you, Cam couldn’t help but smile. Crossing his arms over his chest as he awaited your response. Jamie’s eyes wide as he had no part in the questioning, easily you knew this was Cam’s idea.

“I’m sorry?”

Playing dumb you countered the question as you walked over to Cam, jumping up to sit on the counter as he shook his head. He could see right through you, knowing that you knew exactly where he was going with this conversation. But you figured you’d have a little fun with the two of them, make things more interesting.

Cam looked to Jamie, seeing that he wasn’t going to be the one to push the conversation forward, per usual he’d have to be the one to take the lead.

“I said, which one of us would you pick to fuck you?”

Cam’s hands were now on either side of your thighs, his lips inches from yours as he studied your response, seeing how you’d slightly tensed up as he got closer. Your breath hitching in your throat at his forwardness.

“I have to pick?”

A playful tone in your voice as you raised an eyebrow at him, watching as he leaned back against the counter behind him to join Jamie. The two boys in front of you impatiently waiting for a response. Cam assuredly thinking the answer would be him simply on account of his boldness. While Jamie was hoping it was him to knock Cam off his high horse, wanting this competition between the two of them to finally be over with.

“Can I pick both?”

Both of their eyes going wide at your response as they were sure you were joking, earning a slight laugh from you. The idea certainly not one you’d had prior to this very moment, but who could blame you?

Cam had always struck you as the type of guy you’d normally go for. Outspoken, a little bit of an asshole, knows he’s hot and will be sure to remind you of it. But could back it up with his body and his ability to make you blush with every flirtatious comment that came off his lips.

Jamie on the other hand, was more reserved and lacked the surplus of confidence Cam possessed. He’d compliment you, but never too boldly. Always a gentleman and respectful, though you often wondered what he might be hiding should you ever get past his shy demeanor. Like Cam, his body was one you’d occasionally get caught staring at, the both of them strict about their gym routines and it showed.

Still in their cutoff flannels from the festival your eyes landed on their biceps, then traveling to their chests that were peeking out due to one too many buttons being undone. Which you definitely appreciated, having to squeeze your thighs together to help with the building pressure you’d started to feel as you thought about the idea of the two of them finally getting their hands on you after wanting the opportunity for so long.

Cam took notice of you pressing your thighs together, a smirk on his lips as he looked at Jamie, who was clearly hot and bothered himself over the idea as he awkwardly adjusted his stance as if to hide a growing problem in his shorts.

“Well, what do you say Jimmy, should we give the little lady what she wants?”

He waited for a moment, to get some type of response from Jamie, but he clearly was unsure of the idea. Like a deer in headlights as he watched Cam close the distance between the two of you. His lips immediately on yours, sloppy as he’d clearly been aching to have this moment. As predicted, Cam fought you for dominance. His tongue pushing past your lips as his hands gripped your face, a slight moan escaping you as you gripped his ginger curls.

Cam playfully bit your lip before his trailing kisses down to your neck. First sucking, then biting, and finally trailing his tongue over the red marks to soothe the skin.

“Fuck Cam”

He smirked against your skin hearing his name pour from your lips, urging him to continue. As your eyes slowly fluttered open, you found Jamie trying to ease the discomfort in his shorts. Embarrassed when he locked eyes with you, unsure of what to do. Sensing his hesitation to jump in, clearly by Cam taking charge of the situation, you reached a hand out to him. Pulling him towards you by his shirt as his hands softly rested on your thighs.

“Oh come on Jamie, you said you wanted to fuck me right?”

Your tone playful as you teased him, pulling him by the chin to your lips. Fingers tangled in his black locks as his hand moved to your waist, lightly digging into your skin as he finally seemed to relax.

“Atta boy Jimmy, don’t be shy. She wants it just as bad as you do.”

The kiss intensified as Jamie became more comfortable, a hand slowly pushing past your tank top to find your lace covered breasts. His hand immediately bypassing the fabric, earning a moan of approval from you as you broke the kiss, gazing up at both boys with lust filled eyes. The two of them unsure what to do next as they’d not planned for a moment like this.

“How about we go somewhere that gives us a little more space to work with?”

Biting your lip you nodded in agreement, Cam pulling you in for one last kiss before he led the way upstairs. Jamie offering to help you from the counter, to which you accepted. But not without trying to ease his nerves in the process.

Wrapping your arms around his neck you pulled him in for a kiss, his hands gripping at your waist as your legs circled his, inviting him to lift you off the counter.

Jamie carried you upstairs, the two of you stealing more kisses from one another before he laid you on the bed. Cam tossing his shirt to the side, then discarding his shorts before he’d begun trailing kisses up your thighs.

Jamie following suit before joining you on the bed, his lips finding yours again as his hands pulled your tank top over your head, eyes immediately getting ahead of his actions and undressing you further. Your hand dropping to his cock that was pressing against your side through his briefs. Jamie moaning into the kiss as you palmed him over the fabric.

Cam noticed your focus on Jamie, lightly biting at your inner thigh to gain your attention.

“Ow fuck, Cam!”

“Sorry, you were giving him all the attention. I want to know I’m making you feel good too baby.”

His hands hooked into the waistband of your skirt, pulling it down with your thong in one motion. Instinctually you closed your legs, nervous for the boys to see you so vulnerable, but Cam immediately gripped your thighs, pulling them apart as he positioned himself at your core.

“Come on baby, you can’t be shy now. You chose both remember?”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt Cam’s tongue trace up your slit, your free hand falling to his hair as you gripped his curls. The other hand pushing past the waistband of Jamie’s briefs, stroking him slowly as his lips fell to your neck. Breath heavy as he moaned against your skin.

“Fuck.”

His moans were needy, telling you’d need more than just your hand.

“Take these off, let me give you more than just a hand.”

Lifting his hips, Jamie pulled down his briefs. His cock slapped against his stomach as your jaw had slightly dropped at the sight. His size definitely not what you’d expected but you weren’t complaining.

“Mmm, you gonna suck his cock while I eat your pussy baby?”

Without warning Cam slips a finger between your folds to accompany the work of his tongue. Your hips arching off the bed into his touch as Jamie pulled you towards the edge of the bed, tilting your jaw to face him as he stroked his cock. Eyes falling to yours for the go ahead before slowly thrusting into your mouth.

“Holy…fuck.”

His hands falling to your hair, guiding you down as far as you’d let him. Gagging as you deepthroated him, Jamie’s breathing harsh as his head fell back at the feeling.

“Mm, she being a good girl for you Jim?”

“So fucking good.”

Jamie’s eyes met yours as he watched you take all of him in your mouth, his grip tightening in your hair as he fought the urge to fuck your face. Wanting to go easy on you and not rush anything.

Cam dipped a second finger into you without warning, picking up his pace as your hips bucked against him. His free hand moving to hold your hips in place. Wanting to help you ride out your orgasm.

“Fuck, oh my god Cam I’m gonna cum.”

“Don’t stop fucking her face Jim, make her take it.”

Jamie grabbed your hair, finally giving in to his urges. Thrusting into you as his cock hit your throat, eyes watering as you felt your climax closing in. Cam’s tongue and fingers in unison as your clenched around them, hips lifting off the bed as you came. Your moans muffled as your mouth was preoccupied with Jamie’s cock.

“Mm, she tastes so fucking good Jim. Come try for yourself.”

Jamie pulled his cock from your lips, taking Cam’s place between your legs. His eyes flashing up to you for approval before you gripped his hair and urged him to taste you.

Cam positioning himself behind you as his hands gripped your breasts, kneading the skin before focusing on your nipples as he watched Jamie along with you.

Jamie’s tongue slowly traced your slit, stopping to pay attention to your clit, the sensation causing you to buck against his face as you were still coming down from your high. Cam’s lips falling to your neck, kissing and biting at the skin before he brought your lips to his.

Hearing you moan into his mouth let him know Jamie was doing a good job. He watched as your hands gripped his hair tight, grinding your hips to match the rhythm of his tongue and fingers.

“You want him to fuck you now? I think you can handle it baby.”

Biting your lip you nodded your head, fingers releasing their grip in Jamie’s hair, though he continued. Enjoying the taste of you as he’d felt you tighten your grip on his fingers, letting him know you were close.

“Tell him what you want, use your words.”

“Please Jamie, fuck me. I need you.”

The words pouring from your lips like magic to his ears, his cock twitching at the sound of you begging for him. Pulling his fingers from you, immediately earning a whine as you already missed the contact. Cam’s fingers soon taking over as Jamie lined himself with your entrance.

He stroked himself a few times before thrusting into you, the feeling of Jamie’s cock stretching you while Cam’s fingers circled your clit had you seeing black.

“How does she feel Jim?”

“So fucking tight, fuck!”

Jamie’s hands gripped your hips as he couldn’t bother going slow, his thrusts hard and quick as he’d already been close since you’d had him in your mouth.

“Does he feel good baby? Stretching you out while I rub your clit?”

Cam’s cocky smirk was working overtime. You always assumed he was a freak, but you swore he was made for sex. The way dirty talk rolled off his lips and had you dripping wet at the sound, you were wondering how you’d gone so long without this.

“Mhm, feels so fucking good. I, I’m so close. Please don’t fucking stop.”

But instead he pulled himself from you, a gasp catching in your throat as you’d had your climax halted from the immediate loss.

You looked at Jamie as he climbed onto the bed, laying down next to you as he stroked himself.

“It’s only fair Cam gets a chance to feel how tight you are too baby.”

The sound of Jamie calling you baby had you melting, rolling over onto your knees as Cam gladly took advantage of the opportunity to fuck you from behind. His grip tight on your hip as he teased your slit with his cock, loving how wet you were.

“Ready baby?”

Ready as you’d ever be.

You’d taken Jamie’s cock back into your mouth as his hands tangled into your hair, forcing you down his length as Cam finally thrusts into you. Your moans muffled as you deepthroated Jamie, Cam’s fingers leaving bruises on your skin as he held you while his thrusts showed no signs of ceasing.

“Fuck, pussy is so tight baby. Jimmy didn’t stretch you out too much huh?”

“Fuck you Cam!”

You watched as Jamie spat back at Cam before his eyes reconnected with yours as your hand began working in unison with your mouth. His hips bucking against you as he grew close to his climax.

“Shit…I’m gonna cum baby. Keep sucking his cock, make sure he cums for you.”

“Mmm, shit. I’m gonna cum.”

Both boys moans turning you on, the low groans and grunts that spilt from their lips as they both were nearing their peaks. Watching as Jamie’s abs twitched while his breaths were short and choppy.

“Yes, fuck, ah”

The boys groaned out almost in unison. Jamie’s head fell back against the pillow as he came, your mouth still on his length as you felt the warmth of his seed hit the back of your throat. Making sure to swallow it all while you felt Cam pull his length from you as he came on your ass.

The three of you sweaty and exhausted as you tried to catch your breath. Cam heading to the restroom to grab a towel, while Jamie found you a tshirt and himself some shorts.

As the three of you got cleaned up, you nestled between the two of them under the blankets. Your head on Jamie’s chest with your legs were tangled with Cam’s, his fingers tracing circles on your thigh.

“So, you think you’ll be more likely to come visit us in Philly next season?”

Cam raised an eyebrow at you while Jamie just laughed, a hand running through your hair as you shrugged.

“I mean, if the visit is anything like tonight, I don’t see why not.”

The boys both smiling at your answer, pleased with themselves that they didn’t disappoint. Happy to have finally gotten the chance at something they were sure would never happen.

“I think the real question we want to know is, who was better? And it’s okay if you need to tell Cam he was better just so his feelings don’t get hurt, I understand.”

Rolling your eyes you could not believe how competitive they truly were. Although you could, considering that they made it a point to trash talk each other during sex.

“Mmm, hate to say it but I think it’s a tie. We might need to try again to solidify a winner?”

[puck-luck]

frat fever | cole caufield

warnings: use of Y/N, situationship, deffo gaslighting from the frat boy (realism), fingering, hickeys, PROTECTED p in v (first time ever on this account fr), mentions of STDs and cheating (but is it technically cheating?) pairing: frat boy!cole caufield x fem!reader summary: frat cole frat cole frat cole!! dear cole caufield, please give me a chance, i wish i had met you at the pike house like y/n did wc: 3189

You had kept yourself together pretty well, all things considered. You were used to Cole leaving you on delivered, only replying to keep up your snap streak. During the weekend, things were different– Cole would reach out first, always late at night and always searching for one thing. You weren’t delusional. You know the terms of your relationship.

You tell Cole about your day, and Cole only cares about you on the weekend, when he strikes out at the Pike tailgate ahead of the football game and doesn’t manage to find a girl at the bar after the game is over. 

It’s the perfect situationship. You’re annoyed, but not mad enough to break things off. Cole makes up for his typical frat behavior by folding your laundry when he comes over and falling asleep wrapped around you, but never complaining when you wake him up and kick him out. It works. 

So you can’t really explain why you’re marching over to the Pike house now, phone in your hand, frown on your face. On your phone lies the proof that your relationship isn’t as exclusive as Cole pledged it was last weekend– a picture of him dancing up on a girl, light-up cowboy hat on his head. In fact, he had told you that he couldn’t go out last weekend because he had some family thing, and you had believed him. 

Now, it was clear that he lied: both about going home for the weekend, and about only wanting to fuck you.

You rap on the door of the frat house and it swings open. One of the boys from Cole’s pledge class opens the door, surprise written all over his face. 

“Y/N?” Jack asks. “What are you doing here?”

“Where’s Cole?” You demand, pushing past him. You’re now in the foyer of the house, surprisingly clean and quiet for a Monday morning.

“He’s in his room, geez,” Jack replies, sounding annoyed. “You don’t have to come in here all mad.”

You don’t reply, just turning on your heel and marching down the hall. You’ve been to Cole’s room plenty of times. You’ve pestered him for bathroom privileges at parties, always ending up sneaking away with him to have a quickie when he relents. 

You walk through Cole’s bedroom door without knocking, seething a little bit.

“Y/N,” Cole greets, jumping in surprise. “What the fuck?”

“You said you weren’t fucking anyone else,” You accuse, tossing your phone at his chest. “What the fuck is that, then, huh?”

Cole scrambles, holding your phone up so he can take in the picture. He pales a little bit, but catches himself and brushes it off. “We were just dancing.”

“Just dancing,” you repeat, laughing sarcastically. “So why did you tell me you were going out of town this past weekend? To see family? I’d hate if you were dancing on family like that, you lying shit.”

“Whoa,” Cole laughs. “Dude, you’re freaking out. My plans changed. I didn’t realize I had to clear them with you, Mother.”

You nearly growl. Your hands itch to reach out and slap him, furious and frustrated. He always has the most biting, annoying response to your statements, making them sound irrational and crazy. You hate feeling irrational and crazy. 

Of course Cole is a grown man, he doesn’t have to clear his plans with you. You feel silly for barging in and implying that that’s what you want at all. He’s also a frat boy– a dedicated brother, considering how often he talks about the frat and wears his letters when you see him, so you shouldn’t have believed him when he said you were the only girl he wanted to fuck. Your arrangement is one out of convenience, not feelings. You’re teetering dangerously close on feelings territory, and this is just about sex.

“I told you I didn’t want you fucking other girls,” you say, doubling down. “I don’t want to get an STD from you.”

“I told you I’m not fucking other girls,” Cole replies, rolling his eyes. “You’re overreacting, baby. Come sit with me. We’ll watch a movie while you calm down.”

He pats the bed next to him, then puts his arm up over the pillows. He’s shirtless, just lounging about in his room, and your eyes are drawn to the smooth skin of his side. You know he’s been working out– he goes to the gym every day, usually sends you a snap in the mirror of the locker room. It’s really showing. You watch his muscles ripple when he sweeps his arm out.

It’s distracting you from just how annoying and bitchy he’s being. You don’t want to sit down with him, or watch a movie with him, and you certainly don’t want him to tell you to calm down.

“Baby,” Cole repeats, a pout on his face. “Don’t make me beg.”

You glare at him, but your resolve crumbles anyway. “Fine,” you mutter, climbing onto the bed next to Cole. You settle in, frown on your face and arms crossed against your chest. 

Cole’s arm falls over your shoulder and he tugs you into his side. “Where’s my sweet girl, huh?” He asks, patting your arm and shaking you a bit. “Why’re you being so mean?”

Why am I being mean? You want to scream. You’re the one sleeping with other people!

But at the same time, the other part of you is blushing and wiggling happily in her seat. ‘My’ sweet girl, he said.

You don’t reply, trying to keep the unimpressed look in your eyes as you stare at Cole. He cradles your face, then moves his hands so he’s boxing you in. He starts to rise up on his knees, hovering above you, and you shrink down to escape his closeness. You don’t go far, because Cole plants a knee between your thighs and effectively stops you from moving any further.

“I see how it is,” Cole says. “You’re jealous.”

“I am not!” You exclaim, planting a hand on Cole’s chest. Warm. Bare. Oh God.

Cole grins and he leans down to kiss your shoulder, then up your neck. You let out a breath at the sensation, your body relaxing beneath him. Your hands find his hair and you want to stroke your fingers through the strands, but you pull him away by his locks instead.

Cole growls playfully, removing your hands from his hair and holding your wrists above your head with one hand. “You’re jealous,” he repeats.

“I’m not,” You retort.

Cole talks over you. “You’re cute when you’re jealous, but you know I’m all yours.”

You frown, ready to retort. Cole rolls his hips down onto yours and the complaint evaporates in your mouth. 

“Do I need to remind you?” Cole asks. He’s teasing you, mocking you. “Did you forget that my dick only gets hard for you, baby?”

“Cole,” you warn, the last shred of your dignity marking the word.

He frowns, making his eyes big and sad. He brings his hand down and pushes your knees apart so he can really crowd into your space. He grinds down against your clothed cunt and relishes in the little sound that you make.

“I’m not fucking other girls,” Cole promises, and the illogical part of you believes him. 

It seals the deal. You feel like you’ve suddenly locked the logical part of your brain behind bars, in a soundproof room. 

Cole leans down for a kiss and the image fades from your mind. He captures your lips, waiting for you to respond before he slips his tongue into your mouth. When he pulls away, you follow. 

“There she is,” he coos. “My sweet girl. Want me to fuck you, make you feel good?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out.

“You missed me this weekend, didn’t you?” Cole asks, releasing your wrists so he can use both hands to raise your shirt. He pulls it over your head, then grabs one of your breasts, thumbing over your nipple. He bites his lip at the sight and you keen. “That’s why you stormed in here, all mad. You missed me.”

Pathetically, you nod. It seems like the right answer at the time– anything to keep Cole’s hands on you. 

Cole’s face breaks into a smile and you soak it in like a reward. “Sweetheart, all you had to do was send me a message and I would’ve been in your bed. You didn’t have to come all the way out here.”

“Shut up,” you groan, a little embarrassed at the pet name. “Just fuck me.”

“You can ask nicer than that,” Cole chides, pulling away from you. He pushes his shorts down, leaving him just in some tight boxer-briefs that have your mouth watering. “I know you have manners, Y/N.”

“Please, Cole,” you reply. It’s half-hearted at best. 

Cole hums, unimpressed. He slips your shorts down your legs and pets over your panties, just skimming his fingers over the fabric. “So wet for me, but you’re not acting like it. Why do you make things hard for me, baby?”

He dips his fingers into your panties, slicking up his digits with your wetness. He traces your hole, but doesn’t push in. He completely ignores your clit.

You whine, rolling your hips against his hand. He stills his palm against you, making you do all the work.

“Say you need my cock,” Cole commands, looking at you like you need his guidance, like you can’t function without him. “That’s all you need to say, and then I’ll touch you.”

“Cole,” you say, blushing red. 

He pushes the tip of his middle finger inside of you, then retreats. He repeats the action, filling you more with each dip into your heat. “Say it, baby. Tell me you need my cock and it’ll be all yours.”

Your hips twitch against his hand, his ring finger now starting to join his middle. He’s stretching you wide, staring into your eyes as he does it and taking in each heave of your breath. He kisses your temple, then brings his mouth down to your chest. His tongue swirls against your nipple, then sucks the whole thing into his mouth. He moans against you, his fingers curling inside of you.

“Fuck, Cole,” you moan, a hand finding his shoulder. 

“Mm?” Cole hums, looking up at you, and the vibrations against your nipple are almost too much.

“I need your cock,” you plead, arching your back and rolling your hips into his hand. Cole prompts you again, the heel of his hand stroking your clit. “Please, Cole, I need your cock inside of me. I need you to fuck me.”

“Good girl,” Cole praises, drawing his fingers out of your cunt. He licks them clean, giving you a show. It makes you whimper, remembering all the times when his tongue danced up and down your slit and flicked over your clit until you came. “I’m going to give you what you need, don’t worry.”

He tucks his fingers into his waistband and inches the briefs down. You nearly drool when his length is revealed, a dribble of precum leaking from his slit. Cole fists his cock, laughing as your eyes follow his movements, pumping up and down.

“You need it bad,” Cole observes, smirking. “But there seems to still be something in my way.”

He pointedly lowers his eyes to your core and you rush to remove your panties, a wet line of slick attaching itself to your thigh while you hurry to rid yourself of the scrap of fabric. Once the panties are on the other side of the room, you spread your legs wide, waiting for him to fill the space and press into you.

“So eager,” Cole chides. “Spread your lips, babe. I want to see my hole.”

You choke on a gasp, his possessive tone like a squeeze to your heart. You bring a hand down between your legs and pull your folds apart, clenching as the chill in the air hits your bare entrance.

Cole’s eyes fill with fire at the sight of you, pliant and obedient beneath him. There's a reason he keeps coming back to you, after all. 

But you also don’t trust him, and Cole can’t have that. He needs to punish you just a bit more.

“You’re so mean to me, Y/N,” he says conversationally, still stroking himself. 

You frown and shake your head. “No, I'm not.”

“Uh-huh,” Cole teases. He lists off the reasons. “You accuse me of fucking other girls, you think I'm going to give you an STD…”

He inches toward the edge of his bed, reaching for his bedside drawer.

“I didn't mean that,” you say, trying to salvage the situation.

Cole draws a condom out of the drawer and tears the wrapping. He rolls the rubber onto his member and you pout.

“None of that, baby,” Cole reprimands. “You're worried that I'm fucking other girls and I might give you something. I guess we have to be safe until I can run to the Student Health Center and get tested, right?”

You grumble an agreement, frowning more when Cole lets out a chuckle and crowds into your space.

He nudges his way under your neck and sucks a bruise there, something that you’ll have to cover up for your class the following morning. You realize and push him away, but Cole just traps your hands again and brings them back above your head. He continues to suck and lick over your neck, purpling the area.

With his other hand, he lines himself up with your dripping entrance. He pushes forward, groaning as your heat envelops him.

“So tight,” he praises against your neck. He kisses, then shifts forward another inch. “I love your pussy.”

Your eyes roll back into your head as he snaps his hips forward, burying the rest of himself inside of you. 

Cole sets a frantic pace, grunting and moaning in your ear as he chases the pleasure surrounding his cock. 

“How could I fuck other girls when I’ve got this perfect pussy,” Cole muses, the question coming out as more of a rhetorical statement. He thrusts forward, hard, making your jaw drop. “Only pussy I need, right, baby?”

“Uh-huh,” you agree, his cock bumping your g-spot with every thrust. Every other sound that falls from your lip is a moan or a whimper, but they’re bubbling up in your chest into something louder.

“And fuck, you love this cock,” Cole continues, biting his lip and concentrating on the bliss covering your features. “Nothing fills you quite like me? That’s why you were all jealous? You thought someone else was getting your dick?” His tone turns mocking, pitiful. “You just couldn’t stand the idea of someone else having me, is that it?”

“Yes,” you whine, repeating the word with each of his trusts. You agree over and over again, barely aware of what he’s saying. His pleasure is consuming you, tending to a fire in your stomach that’s almost out of control. You yelp when Cole’s thumb comes down on your clit, rubbing in harsh circles, but the yelp turns into a wanton keen. “Cole, fuck, I’m close.”

“Gonna scream my name when you come, baby?” Cole asks, then kisses your lips. He pulls back, the hand not rubbing your clit bundled in the pillow next to your head for leverage. “Let the whole house know who’s fucking you this good?”

“Cole,” you wail, clutching his wrist to ground yourself.

“A little louder, sweet girl,” Cole encourages, nudging your nose against his and panting into your mouth. “Tell ‘em who you belong to.”

Your chest lifts off the bed involuntarily and you cry out, a garbled version of Cole’s name mixed with the high-pitched moan signaling your release. It’s Cole’s favorite sound that you make, and most of the time, he rewards you by spilling inside of you.

He’s forced to spill his seed in the condom, groaning and stuttering above you as he does so. You feel oddly empty, even though you can feel him twitching inside of you as his come fills the condom. 

Cole’s thrusts slow and eventually stop, his hooded eyes meeting yours. His bottom lip drops from his teeth and it curves with a smile, dipping to catch yours. He draws out while kissing you. Eventually he rolls away and pinches the tip of the condom, removing it. He ties it off and launches it toward his trash can– and makes it.

He brightens, looking back at you to make sure you saw it. 

“Kobe,” you tease, and Cole laughs.

He wipes you down with one of the shirts on his bedroom floor, tossing the item towards the laundry hamper when he’s done. He doesn’t even shoot for the basket, just aims in the general direction. He kisses up your chest and sucks a bruise onto the curve of your breast, then pecks your lips.

“I’m not fucking other girls,” he repeats, patting your hip. “But I do have a chapter meeting in about an hour, so I’m going to have to kick you out.”

You pout and he matches the expression, leaning in to kiss it off your face. He stands and finds your shirt and shorts, bringing them back to the bed. He sits in front of you and holds them out. You push away from his comfortable pillows and hold your arms above your head.

Cole bites back a grin, his eyes flickering down to look at your tits before he helps you slip the t-shirt over your head. He smooths some non-existent wrinkles, cupping your boobs before he pulls away. You snatch the shorts from his hand and pull them on, climbing out of bed and finding your way to his mirror across the room. You fuss over your hair for a second, trying to tame the unruly mess, but you give up and tie it up with the ponytail holder on your wrist. 

“Are you going to text me later?” You ask Cole, eyebrow raised.

He crossed his arms behind his head, laying back on his pillows. Your eyes are drawn down to his cock, laying against his thigh and soft again. Ugh. You still want it to be inside of you.

“Maybe,” Cole replies easily, knowing that his vagueness is frustrating. He wiggles his own eyebrows at you, smirking at your glare. “You’ll have to wait and see, won't ya?”

You scoff and roll your eyes. “You’re going to be the death of me, Caufield.”

“Well, you’ll die happy.” Cole sends you a little wave, scrunching his nose in a way that’s far too cute and unfair considering you have to leave. “Bye, Y/N.”

“Bye, Cole.”

You escape the frat house without running into any of the other guys, mercifully. As you walk toward your place, you pull your phone out of your pocket to text your best friend. 

Well, Cole isn’t fucking other girls

How do you know?

……… he told me

Good fucking God Y/N I thought we decided you weren’t going to sleep with him anymore

Too late

note: this is me. living vicariously. through my own writing. i miss you cole. why are you a dom in all of my recent fics. that's hot. i think it's probably because i'm manifesting.

I NEED A FRAT BOY TO SLEEP IN MY BED AND MAKE ME MISERABLE ASAP!! I'VE BEEN TOO NORMAL!! SOMEONE NEEDS TO MAKE ME GO CRAZY and i nominate cole caufield

[obsessive-ego]

Pest of the west

Toonjuice x reader

Warning cringe

Gender neutral pronouns, pregnancy is mentioned once, also reader is forced to wear a dress

A shameless episode rewrite, swapping lydia for y/n and making it into a reader insert, I can not stress this enough, I just rewrote the episode to fit what I wanted, If this goes over well i might do more episode rewrites

Toonjuice takes you to the old west to goof off, and shit gets bad when an out law named bully the crud falls in love with you

"Come to the netherworld he said, it'll be fun he said, we'll go to the old west, you could use a good time, god" you grumbled to yourself, here you were handcuffed, wearing the ugliest, largest wedding dress you've ever seen in your life, hell, the size of the dress was the second reason stopping you from running from this cruel fate, the first being the groom. Not only were you handcuffed, your soon to be husband had a vice grip on your arm, a giant bull of a monster, Bully the Crud, you had no idea why this bastard wanted you, or why beetlejuice, scared out of his wits, ditched you to fend for yourself, all you knew was that you were screwed.

...

Finally, friday, it's been a long, rough work week. Between overtime, unreliable coworkers, and your bastard of a boss using you as a punching bag, you were beat.

Home again, you kick off your shoes, toss your bag and coat on the couch, and make the mental note to tidy up later. More importantly, you make your way to your bedroom, eager for the best part of the work day, changing out of your work clothes.

Passing the full-length mirror in your room, out of the corner of your eye, you notice the reflection wasn't yours.

"Hey BJ" you say casually, not bothering to look his way as you dig around your dresser for something more comfortable.

"It's about time you finally came around, babes,"

"Yeah, overtime again," you sigh

"Gross"

"Tell me about mister 'I don't have a job.'" You laugh, turning to the mirror to see that beetlejuice was gone.

"Huh," you mumble, scooping up your change of clothes. "Guess he had things to do?" You mumble.

Just then, you jump as the television in your bedroom turns on, loud static noises buzz from the speakers before an image settles on screen.

"Beetlejuice?"

Your television lights up showing a desert like scenery, with cactus, wired fences, cow skulls, and there was beetlejuice, dressed in cowboy attire

"That's my name, and cow poking is my game,Are you tired of the same old same old boring modern breather lifestyle?"

"Yeah" you chuckle

"Are ya in desperate need for a change of pace? Then mosey on down to the netherworld's wild west rude ranch, conveniently located in tombstone scareizona"

"There's a wild west in the netherworld? Like cowboys and stuff?" The ghoul had your full attention now, maybe sometime goofing off in the netherworld could do you some good, and the wild west would seem like something new and fun.

"Cowboys, cowghouls, just spout those magic b words, and we'll be ghost town bound"

what's the worst that could happen?

"Beetlejuice beetlejuice beetlejuice!" You shout in a hurry, and in a flash you were gone, your change of clothes now abandoned on the floor where you once stood.

...

And there you were in the scenery you saw on your television, sand, cactus, cow skulls, all the cliches of an old west movie. Your work clothes now replaced with more appropriate attire, a black cowboy hat, with a matching vest, a soft blue coloured puffy sleeved shirt, with a dusty blue neckerchief, black pants, with a big skull shaped belt, and of course some big black boots, you look liked you walked out of freddy pharkas frontier pharmacist, but appreciated the wardrobe change, it was always so fun when your clothes changed when beetlejuice dragged you into the netherworld, it was something you grew to look forward to with each trip. Your adoration for the new look was short-lived as you glanced around, unable to locate your friend.

"Beetlejuice?"

Did he ditch you?

"Oh bury me~ on the lone prairie~"

The ground next to you shakes before beetlejuice's head pops up from the dirt and unearths the rest of himself. "Welcome to the netherwest babes! I'm your ghost host with the most, should you have any questions, I'll be sure awnser them, as obscurely as possible" the ghoul proudly proclaims as he struts away from the grave he pulled himself out of.

"So this is the netherwest, it looks fun"

"Of course, babes, it has everything an old west motife should have, sun, sand, more cliches, then you can shake a stick at," the ghost hollers, shaking a stick at a cow skull

"Sounds great, beej," you chuckle, grabbing his arm, eager to see the sights, and get your mind off your work week.

"And dont you worry toots, if you're fretting on being bush wacked by bad guys, you're fretting for nothing"

"Oh? You some kind of old West hero?" You chucke, amused by his sudden confidence.

"You kidding, babes? Nobody messes with the pest of the west, I'll show ya what I mean later, " he cackles leading you into town

"Pest is right" you smile

...

The two of you were having a blast, beetlejuice eagerly showing you the sights, dragging you around town, you both were laughing and carrying on, you really needed this after such a shitty work week, you could always rely on beetlejuice to change your mood for the better.

It was all fun and games until your ghost, with the most, got kicked by a horse into a trough of dirty water. You were trying not to laugh at him as you helped him out.

"This has got to be the closest thing I've taken ta a bath in months," he grumbled

"It's surely an improvement." You laugh, hoisting your friend out of the water,

"Excuse me" an unfamiliar voice interrupts the two of you "allow me to introduce myself" standing in front of you was a man shaped like a dartboard and a tiny purple guy who's shirt was way too long for him.

"Howdy there stranger, The name's casualty, hop along casualty, I'm the mayor of this here tombstone and this is fester, we all in the market for a new sheriff, know anybody who'd be intrested in such a noble and HIGH paying job?"

"What-" was all you managed to get out before beetlejuice perked up

"DO I? Look no further, I am the slob for the job!" Beetlejuice lunges forward, eager to shake the mayor's hand before you pull him back

"Uh, beej? You a law man? Do you even know any laws?"

"Dont rob people"

"Oof, that's on me, I set the bar too low, but weren't we just here to have fun? And besides sheriff? Ya know, that's a lot of hard work, " the ghoul's one weakness. Maybe the mentioning of work would be enough for him to decline, and the two of you could go back to goofing off.

"WORK?! YUCK!" Beetlejuice shouts, you smile, there's the ghost you know and love more than you're willing to admit.

"Maybe the breather is right. Maybe the job would be too much for this tender foot to handle," casualty loudly proclaims as he and his sidekick walk away

"TENDER FOOT!?"

Great, now they had him. Beetlejuice was always a sucker for reverse psychology.

"Can a tender foot do this?" Beetlejuice proceeds to 'show off' his so-called slime shooting skills, loudly proclaiming he could shoot his hat before it touched the ground.

The hat went up into the air and beetlejuice went trigger happy, the ghost hit everything BUT the hat, you were smart enough to take cover, the ghost proved in a matter of seconds slime shooting was something he had to cross out on his resume, as he proceeded to cover the towns folk in slime.

But yet the mayor was still eager to hire him.

"Beetlejuice, come on, seriously? you're the worst guy for the job, you lie, cheat, steal, hell you're wanted in 5 different states, and 6 provinces, plus we just got here, why would anyone want you to be sheriff? There's obviously a catch, think about it, " you pleaded with him, your words fell of deaf ears, beetlejuice was too excited with all the glory that came with his new title.

"Beetlejuice, I wouldn't do this if I were you -" You try again only to be shoved aside by the mayor, who was more than ready to slap that star shaped badge on Beetlejuice's chest.

"Congratulations, son, you're exactly what we're looking for!"

"This is a joke, right?" You groaned with arm crossed annoyed over the whole situation.

The mayor dragged Beetlejuice to the group of townsfolk who gathered in the street to see what all the commotion was about.

"Attention, yall, I'd like ya to meet our new sheriff"

The crowd cheered, and Beetlejuice drank in all the attention and praise being showered upon him, while you just stood there trying to put two and two together.

"Oh, I forgot to mention, bully the crud will be here at high noon," the mayor starts

"And he's gonna do terrible, horrible things to you -" Fester continues

"Great," you grumble, there it was, so much for a fun time.

A bell gong rings through the town, and in a matter of seconds the towns folk were gone, leaving only you and Beetlejuice standing in the middle of the street, you pull your phone out of your pocket, though you had no service, it still worked like a clock, time in the netherworld worked differently, though it was evening when you left, it was day time when you arrived, your phone always acted accordingly, it was weird, and you didnt understand it, but you werent complaining.

"Noon," you say in a whisper, your stomach now turning with dread. What the hell did beetlejuice just sign up for?

The ground rumbles, you grab the ghoul's arm out of nervousness, and in a sandstorm cloud of dust a pig pulled carriage charges into tombstone, making a hasty hault in front of the two of you. The door swings open, and there stands what you can only assume is bully the crud, a big bull of a man, snarling and staring down the two of you.

"I'm looking for trouble," he growls

Beetlejuice snorts "never met 'em, you know anyone by that name babes?" The ghoul gives you a nudge. You shake your head

"That ain't what I ment, that was a figure of speech! Which one of the two of you are the sheriff?!"

You clamp your mouth shut, you werent gonna rat out your friend or take the blame. Beetlejuice did the same.

Bully huffs through his nose before grabbing you by your neckerchief

"You better spill -" in the rough movement of grabbing you, your hat got knocked off, your eyes no longer hidden in shadow.

"You better, better- why, arent you a pretty little thing" bully sets you down, and hands you your hat "why you ring my bell little meadow muffin, hows 'bout you give ol'bully a kiss" you cringe at his change in mood and utter out a "what?" More confused than anything else, not to mention disgusted.

Beetlejuice quickly pulls you away, a tad angry over how this overgrown hamburger was now hitting on you, HIS best friend.

"I'm the sheriff round these parts, and this here is my deputy." The ghoul snatches your hat from your hands and roughly puts it back on your head.

"I never agreed to that," you grumble, adjusting your hat.

"YOU'RE THE NEW SHERIFF?!" the bull bellowed, followed by a fit of laughter

"And who might you be?" Beetlejuice puffed out his chest, squaring up to the monster

"I'm bully the crud, the meanest ombre that ever licked a law man," he shouted

"Ya know you look a lot bigger than your eight by tens. Were you sick on picture day?" Beetlejuice laughs, pulling a photo from his pocket

"Enough small talk, I came to run you outta town, and that's what I aim ta do." The bully snorts

"Alright, bully, make your move," beetlejuice snorts reaching for his slime shooter

In a matter of second, the monster grabs beetlejuice with one hand, tightly wrapped about his gut, squeezing the afterlife out of him

"Nice move" beetlejuice croaks

"Wait!" You shout, dead or not, that's got to hurt

Bully drops Beetlejuice, his attention now on you

"Sweet little meadow muffin, ya change your tune about giving ol' bully that kiss?" He coos, quickly making his way in front of you and grabbing your hands. His voice was much less harsh when addressing you. It was nauseating.

"Ugh," you flinch. You'd prefer the same hostility he's shown towards beetlejuice over this 'sweet' side in a heartbeat.

As disgusted as you were, this little exchange, it was enough of a distraction to get beetlejuice back on his feet.

In a flash your ghost host with the most pulls you away from the Bull's grasp

"Back off bovine breath," he snorts, jabbing bully in his chest. "I hope you dont mind me asking, but what's your BEEF with this town anyway? Cuz we'd kinda like ya to just MOO-ve along" with each cow related joke beetlejuice pushed bully back away from you, you bit your tongue, trying not to laugh, despite Beetlejuice's confidence, you werent too sure how dangerous this guy really was, and besides, beej was doing enough laughing for the both of you.

You remained silent watching beetlejuice roll on the floor laughing at his own jokes, that is until Bully has had enough of the ghoul's shenanigans and snaps and screams.

"NOBODY MAKES A LAUGHING STOCK OUT OF BULLY THE CRUD!"

Beetlejuice hops back to his feet and laughs

"Beej, I think you should get serious here," you urge. Yes, you know beetlejuice was a powerful ghost, but he was also a dumbass.

He snorts, "Come on, babes, you worry too much. This over sized hamburger is all bark and no bite, ya know what I mean?" Beetlejuice gives you a half-hearted shrug, turning away from Bully.

Of course, Beetlejuice wasn't as freaked out as you were, he wasnt the one getting kissy faces from a cow.

"Relax, babes, remember what I told ya earlier? Nobody messes with the pest of the west-!?" Beetlejuice freezes. While he spent his time ignoring bully and flapping his gums at you, the bull took his opportunity and painted a large yellow stripe on Beetlejuice's back.

"THE SHERIFF GOT A YELLOW STREAK DOWN HIS BACK!" A voice screams

were the towns folk watching this whole mess?

"You calling me a chicken?!" Beetlejuice screams back

"Boo" bully leans into him and whispers in Beetlejuice's ear

And that was all it took to turn your friend into a giant yellow chicken

Beetlejuice scrambled and clucked away from bully, hopping on the nearest horse and riding out of town.

"Fuck" was all you could say watching your friend ride out of view, you were now screwed.

You were pulled from the spot and hoisted up into bully's arms

"Now that I ran sheriff stinko out of town, let's have us a wedding♡"

"...I just have one question for you"

"Well sure there honey"

"What's the capital on Thailand?"

"What?"

"Its Bangkok!" You shout slamming the heel of your boot into bully's crotch.

Bully drops you and screams. You quickly scramble away, thankful that stupid joke worked.

Your freedom was shortly lived, you didnt get far, no building would let you in, citizens too frightened to what Bully might do to them if they were caught harboring someone he wanted, which was fair in a sense.

Bully pulls you back into his arms and laughs. "You should be more careful there, my little meadow muffin, you dont wanna damage the family jewels, we're gonna need em"

Beetlejuice wherever you are please come back.

...

As you were being prepared/forced to marry a literal monster, Beetlejuice was in the middle of the desert not too worried about you, back to his old abnormal self, arguing with a horse.

"So your not gonna head back to tombstone? What about your friend?"

"Y/n? They're fine, they're the toughest living thing I've ever had the privilege to scare" he waves his horse off, despite all the teasing the ghoul gave you he held a very high opinion of you and just assumes you could take on bully no problem. "They could take on a whole herd of Bully the cruds, no sweat"

...

"Y/n's sure taking their sweet time, I'm beginning to worry" Beetlejuice sighs

"I told ya, bully the crud is one tough side of beef. Do you have any idea what's gonna happen to your little friend if you dont run him outta town?" The horse nags.

Beetlejuice snorts, "Yeah, like I can see the future -" in a flash, Beetlejuice's cowboy attire was replaced with to resemble swami, with a big crystal ball nestled in his lap.

The ghoul snorts out a laugh

"Now let's see if I can get a clear picture on this thing" beetlejuice focuses on the orb and what he sees makes his stomach turn, not only did you fail on rescuing yourself from his mess, you were forced into marriage with that monster, your living status was now gone, you were barefoot and pregnant in a kitchen, and all because of him.

"Y/N! SAY IT AIN'T SO! Y/N AND BULLY ARE GONNA GET HITCHED!"

...

So here you were, hand cuffed, now gagged, in the ugliest puffy dress you ever seen, standing before a minister with you future husband who had a vice grip on you and no way out, you were trapped, you couldnt run, you could barely speak, every objection from your mouth was quickly muffled by Bullys sweaty hands to the point the bull gagged you to make things easier for this mess of a ceremony, if you could manage a few words you would have said the B word 3 times before this got this far. Your time was running out, and your hopes of beetlejuice coming to save you were getting slimmer by the second.

"We are gathered here today to join these two in matrimony, be there any man, or beast" the father gesturing to the side of the church filled with what you could only assume is  Bullys extended family. "Who feels that this here wedding should not take place, let them hold up their hand, or hove, or forever hold their cud," the minister laughs nervously

This was it. You were doomed, there was nothing you could do, you stood there staring forward, utterly lost in despair.

"GET ON WITH IT!" Bully bellows tugging you in closer. This had to be a nightmare, right? Any second your alarm would go off, right? Waking you from this disaster, right?

"That's it! The only thing left to say is, I now pronounce you cow and-!"

"HOLD IT RIGHT THERE PARSON! I OBJECT!"

You whip your head around, knowing that voice anywhere, there he was, your knight in stinking armor, standing at the entrance of the hall, rushing towards you.

"This lil' thing is spoken for" beej spats before pulling you away from Bully, with a snap of the ghoul's fingers your restraints vanish, with your new found freedom you were quick to embrace him, silently thanking the stars he came back in the nic of time.

"How dare you try and marry MY fiance!"

"Your what?" You mumble

"Your fiance?! They ain't got a ring to prove that!"

"Oh?~" Beetlejuice grabs your wrist and shoves your hand in Bully's face, "then what's this?" Placed upon your middle finger was a very large, very tacky, bright green jewel on a black and white striped band, a ring that sure wasn't there 2 minutes ago.

"I-?!" The bully stutters

"You didn't notice? were you too busy forcing my little cockroach into this mess you couldnt be asked to see if they've been already spoken for, I bet you wouldnt listen to a word they said" each word the ghoul spoke he would jab the bull in the chest, he was really laying on the country twang, you couldnt help bit crack a smile knowing the danger of you being married to that monster was gone, not to mention Beetlejuice saying you were his fiance, it was cute and it made your heart skip a beat.

This mirth was short-lived, though, as Bully had had enough of Beetlejuice's shenanigans, with a snarl and a bellowing howl.

"NOBODY CUTS OFF MY NUPTIALS  AND GETS AWAY WITH! IT'S TIME WE SETTLE THIS ONCE AND FOR ALL!"

"Yeah"

"AND THAT MEANS ONLY ONE THING"

"Name it"

"SLIMESHOOTERS AT 60 PACES"

"YOU GOT IT!"

Bully stomps out of the church to get ready for the dual

Beetlejuice quickly pulls you aside

"Alright babes, let's get out of here, just say those magic b words, and we can amscray," he whispers to you.

"We can't"

"right- WHAT?! WHY?! - I mean, why? Cat got your tongue? Suddenly, you lost your voice? Or, oh no, dont tell me ya changed your mind and ACTUALLY WANT TO MARRY THAT CHUMP??" The ghoul grabs you shoulders and shakes you as if to knock some sense into you.

You brush his hands away "no, Beetlejuice, we cant leave, if we leave Bully is gonna destroy this town and everyone in it, I can't live with that on my shoulders" despite the fact that you hung around with a professional con man, you yourself were honest and kind, and to be the cause of such misery, you could never forgive yourself.

"Like I'm gonna lose sleep over that-" he grumbles

"Please beetlejuice, I'm asking you as a friend, and after you ditching me, I think you owe me" you gesture to the awful dress you were forced in, not to mention how if he was seconds late you could have been hitched to a literal monster.

"Fine" he grumbles

"Besides you're dead, what do you have to lose?"

Beetlejuice groans

"Also, can I ask one more thing of you, Beej? Can you get me out of this dress?" You tug at the tooling. You could barely move, and the fabric was quite itchy.

"Y/n! In front of so many people, and in a church! Well, if you insist, " the ghoul gingerly reaches for the zipper on your dress before you swat his hand away, clearly embarrassed

"I ment with magic." You sigh, not really in the mood for games

"Right, I knew that, just messing with ya," he chuckles sheepishly. With another snap, you were back in your cowboy attire

"Thank you, now, now what about bully?" You sneer

"Sit tight, babes, Bully's got a date with the sheriff"

"No, we can beat him together." You give the ghoul a light punch in the arm, still a little sore he left you behind.

...

Like any other western movie cliche, beetlejuice and bully square off in the center of town

"Please, for the love of god cheat," you grumble, watching this soon to be mess from the sidelines.

"That would be ideal, your friend there couldn't hit the ground with his hat," the mayor buts in to your mutterings

"But I think I have something dumb enough it might just work -" you muse before running off.

"This is it bully. It's time to separate the men from the bulls. There's no tomorrow. It's now or never, the cheese stands alone!"

"Quit stalling and draw!" Bully sneers, absolutely fed up with Beetlejuice's nonsense.

"Draw? I'm a little rusty, but I'll give it a go. " Beetlejuice snorts swapping his cowboy hat for a beret, pulling a canvas and easel out of nowhere

"Now I'm gonna need ya to keep that pose for the next few hours -"

Bully screams in frustration, ripping the canvas away from Beej and slamming it over head

Beetlejuice unfazed snorts. "I really get into my work"

"I'm gonna give you one last chance to draw beetlejerk, or else I'm gonna start without ya, NOW DRAW!"

Beetlejuice swallows the lump in his throat "I guess this is it, theres no turning back now"

"Hold it!"

"Y/n!" Beetlejuice shouts, glad to see you

"Hey Bully I've change my mind about marrying you!" You shout

"WHAT!? Babes have you lost your mind?!"

"You have?! Oh honey I'd knew youd come around♡"

You run into the center of the action and with Bully distracted, you toss beetlejuice a different pistol

"Shoot!" You shout

"OH!" Beetlejuice fumbles with the gun before taking clear aim and firing, but instead of slime, a red sauce came out, covering bully, you let out a sigh you didnt know you were holding, the fact that beetlejuice ACTUALLY hit bully was nothing other than luck.

"Huh?! BARBEQUE SAUCE?! GET IT OFF OF ME" Bully screams

"I dont know about you, babes, but I could eat." beetlejuice growls, scraping a knife and fork together.

Bully scared for his afterlife screams and scrambles out of tombstone, off into the sunset and out of sight.

"Thank god" you sigh, absolutely physically and emotionally exhausted

"We did it, babes!" Beetlejuice pulls you into a side hug

"Yeah" you chuckle

"Sheriff, we can't thank you enough." The mayor shakes Beetlejuice's hand

"Yup, bully the crud won't be bothering this town anymore, so long as you keep plenty of barbeque sauce on hand, but alas, it's about time I hung up the old slimeshooters" beetlejuice sighs

"WHAT?!" The mayor of tombstone drops to the ground and hugs Beetlejuice's knees."NO! dont quit, is it because of me, because I got you to take the job with trickery, dishonesty, and deceit?"

Beetlejuice snorts out a laugh "heck no  I like that in a guy, but no, I'm hanging up my guns for personal reasons, all this mud are ruining my boots"

The mayor sighs, "we lose a lot of them that way..."

"We should get going, Beej." You finally interrupt, desperate to get home and rest.

Beetlejuice perks up. "So babes, how's bout a thank you for your hero, huh?" Beetlejuice  leans into you, wiggling his eyebrows

"A 'thank you' to the guy whose fault I almost married to cow?" You snort out a laugh

"I came back in the nic of time, didn't I? Come on, come on, come on~" the ghoul teases, nudging his elbow into your arm.

You yank beetlejuice by his neckerchief pulling him close to your level, that was enough to get him to shut his mouth, and in an instant, you give him a quick, soft kiss on his cheek.

Letting him go, he remains stunned. You give the ghoul a light punch in the arm

"Come on, beetlejuice, let's go home"

"...Right"

It was odd, everytime you've shown beej kindness or compassion, he would always go off saying it was 'gross' but this time that wasnt that case, he remained silent, which after the day you had, you were fine with that.

Bonus

To be honest, you were exhausted, between a rough work week and that whole emotional nearly married to a monster thing. You nearly passed out when you returned home.

But now all that was behind you and you were home again, safe and unwed.

In the netherworld, the ghoul who dragged you into the situation/ saved you was laying awake in his bed, hand gingerly placed upon the cheek you so quickly kissed.

Yes, beetlejuice has kissed you multiple times, but as a joke, sort of, but this? You kissing him? With genuine feeling?

"Gross" was all he could utter, hand still holding the spot where your lips met his cold face.

[purelyfiction]

miami vice || rhett abbott

Rhett Abbott x F!Reader

Word Count: 3,015 words

Summary: tailgates and trucker hats and drinky decisions. that's all.

Content Warning:  HEY!! THIS HAS SMUT!! So if you’re under 18 pleaseeee go away. (brother's best friend, f fingering, choking, oral f receiving, missionary, safe sex, CNC because drunk, strangers to lovers, possession kink if you squint?)

Author Note: hey bitches i'm not dead - jk ily all sorry. if you can't tell i'm self indulgent and needed to put this horny energy somewhere other than my head. enjoy.

"HEADS UP!" You barely register the sound before a sand filled bag clocks you right across the top of your eye, making you curse and drop your beer, hand flying up to your eye. The voice has traveled from the other side of the tent to land in front of you, a large hand taking your shoulder. "shit, i'm so sorry 'bout that."

Finally blinking away the pain in your eyelid, you can open both of your eyes to reveal the jackass who'd struck you - a jackass in a black sleeveless tank with a backward trucker hat. Your chin drops as you look him in very blue eyes, which are flooded with clouded concern. "You good? C'mere," his hand moves from your shoulder to behind your back as he moves to your side, carefully tucking under the tailgate tent. The male moves to one of what had to be a dozen blue coolers tucked under folding tables, pulling it open and carefully pushing the cold can to the affected eye. You've not said a damn word as he carefully settles the drink to your forehead, eyes still trained on him. "Real sorry, again I- my buddy's got shit aim."

"It's fine, I'll just go back to my place looking like I got jumped. " Your quick retort has him chuckling as he guides your hand to take the can and hold it. After he's sure you won't drop it, he's grabbing another two cans, large hands able to handle them with ease, extending one to you as he polishes off the other he'd carried over with him.

"You can actually drink that one." This time, its you laughing at you watch him crush the now empty can and toss it in a nearby hanging trash bag, clicking the tab to open it, foam coming to the top. Instinctually, you're dropping down to catch it with your lips before it can overflow onto his hand, the aluminum still in his grip. Withdrawing, you carefully navigate it from his hands.

"Thanks. You always treat the victims your sloppy shooter assaults?"

"Nah, only if they're stupidly hot." The forwardness leaves your eyebrows to pop up, the pain dully reminding you how you got here in the first place. The nameless cornhole vigilante reaches up to the tent frame, gripping to the accordion metal and leaning in. "I don't think I recognize you? Are you bummin' booze off these guys?"

"First you hit me with a sandbag and then have the nerve to question if I'm crashing a tailgate that isn't mine?" No Name points to your with an index finger while the remaining fingers keep curled around his Miller Lite.

"Good point. Name's Rhett." Nodding in response, you're carefully moving back to the cooler to toss a somewhat warm can back to the cooler, and return to your spot. Sorta. The brunette somehow seems closer - at least his face seems that way. You introduce yourself in response, and he laughs. "Dane's sister?"

"That's the one. This is all him. The RV, the parking pass - the booze I'm 'bumming' from him." Another sip of his beer blocks the view of his devilish grin. It almost matches the flames of the shirt he's wearing. "Where's the accent from? Definitely doesn't sound like it's from here."

He would proceed to explain that he's originally from Wyoming, and had come down to compete in the National Rodeo Circuit finalist events. That made him a cowboy cornhole viglinate. Rhett had insane stories from his events - like how he fucked up his shoulder on one of his best runs and rode again the very next day. When he ran out of stories - two beers later - he was happy to attempt to get revenge on his former cornhole partner for smacking you across the face.

"You're absolutely ass at this!" He laughs, watching the bag splat against the concrete. Bouncing along to a nearby speaker you turn to him when the other two start collecting bags.

"I gotta admit - I've never played."

"You-" His face fills with surprise and disdain, shaking his head, "How have you never- damn it, we're teaching you."

On the next turn, Rhett keeps the bags to himself, and feeds one into your hand. Before you can throw it however, his larger hand comes under yours, fingers skating along your forearm before getting comfortable under your grip. His chest is flush against your back, his scruff brushing against your ear as he leans in. Thick drawl gives you instructions about the power you want to put behind the throw, moving your arm along with it. Guiding your toss, the orange bag goes flying through the air, lands on the board and slides right into the hole. "Atta girl."

You end up losing the game, mainly because Rhett's cheating by continuing to tug you backward by the belt loop every time you take a shot to the board. Each time you looked over at him with a scowl, he would sip at his drink, mumbling 'don't look at me'.

The closer and closer to game time that you got, the thinner and thinner the tailgate group got. Dane had started cleaning up, his friends helping him put things inside the RV and his friend's pickups. Rhett still clings to you like tipsy velcro, his hand stuck in your back pocket as you try to help pack things away.

"Here, I'll dump out the cooler."

"Rhett there's still-"

"Oh there's still beer in here. Would be a shame to let it go to waste." Tossing one to you - which you somehow catch - he's snagging Dane's keys from a nearby table, pushing the first key blade he can find into the bottom of the can, duplicating the hole in your can that he's guided to the horizontal position. Dropping the keys to his feet, he looks at you. "Do I gotta teach this shit to you too?"

"You gonna cheat at this too?"

"Who said this was a race?" He asks.

"This is always a race. Three, two-" Both tabs crack open as you push the cans to your mouths, shotgunning commencing without a final count. As you tilt the can properly, you realize that Rhett has already finished his can, dropping it to the pavement. How the fuck- you obviously can't ask as you continue to chug, your throat working as you keep downing the liquid. Rhett's hand, coated in beer, carefully tucks under your chin, pushing your head further back, back and back.

"You can take it." If you weren't so determined to show him up - you would've sputtered foamy wheat water everywhere. You nearly choke thanks to the new pace, but make a smooth recovery. Dropping the can, you gasp for air, throwing your head back as you let the beverage settle in your stomach. Looking at Rhett, he's got a stupidly large grin on his face, upper lip covered in beer foam. You're about to say something when Dane comes out of the RV, calling your name.

"You don't have tickets right?" Nodding, the cowboy looks at Dane and then at you.

"You're not going?"

"Unless you're tucking me into your purse, Rhett - no." Dane slaps the taller male's shoulder before reaching down for the keys on the ground and pushing them into your hand.

"These are yours 'til we get back," Turning to Rhett, he nods toward the stadium. "Ready to start walking?" The mid-west male starts patting at his jeans, all the way down to his boots. Popping up to his full height, he grips your brother's shoulder much like he had yours earlier.

"I can't find my phone or my wallet. Let me go check the RV - I'll just meet you at the seats." Dane nods, and moves to the rest of the group, starting the trek to the metal building. When they're out of earshot, Rhett's hand tucks back into your pocket again. "You wanna give me the tour?"

In the most hasty fashion, you clamber into your brother's RV, showing off the kitchenette/living area, before leading him to the bunk areas, where you'd be sleeping tonight. Rhett's hand hasn't left your pocket at this point. As you show off the tiny space, he laughs. "What's so funny?"

"It's cute y'think both of us are gonna fit in there." Like a tipsy cocker spaniel, your head tilts at him. Fingers move to grip your ass through your jeans, before he spots the pocket door to the owner's bedroom of the mobile home. He's easily pushing the door open, a larger queen sized bed waiting on the other side of the door. "That's more like it." Before you can argue with him, his lips are latching to yours, hands gripping your hips enough to tug you flush against his own.

Rhett is efficient in pulling the jersey you were roasting in off your shoulders. The cowboy is about to let it hit the floor when you pull back. “Be smart about this.” You warn. Before you can blink, he’s thrown it to a side table and you back onto the bed.

“Or. You be smart and leave the commands to me.” A hand slides up from your lower back, up along your spine, soft finger tips electrifying the skin under them as he finds the strap of your bra. His lips busy themselves along your neck, wet and sloppy open mouthed kisses are soft and smooth compared to the sharp and coarseness of his stubble. The clasps are disengaged in quick time, and he pulls away from your skin to switch to the other side of your neck. Your bra- unlike the jersey- is discarded to the floor, leaving you in jeans that hugged you well, and sweat slick bare skin.

He carefully cups your breast, gripping onto it, a thumb rolling over the peak as your head cranes back. His kisses are getting shorter and closer and closer to your chest, until the warm and wet feeling blooms along your other boob, his tongue forming many shapes in the process. Your hands are eager to tug the backwards hat off his head, fingers carding through his hair, tugging with teeth teasingly scraping your skin a moan lifts from you. “Oh did my girl like that?” He taunts, moving to switch sides.

As he keeps mouthing at your tits, his hands busy themselves with your belt and button of your pants. It’s damn near expert execution, jeans swiftly thudding to the floor, no awkward entanglement to be found. His maneuvers leave you with only your panties left to hide yourself from him, but even then, a curious index finger runs along your pussy lips through the skimpy material. Slowly, he pulls the elastic free from your skin, running along it in a pacing line, smirking up at you as he moves to the edge of the bed. "This is such a treat, cause I know that stadium doesn't serve tacos." Adjusting to sit on your forearms, you stare him down as his lips start leaving wet spots along your inner thighs, a slight sound leaving you. "Did you just call my pussy a taco?"

An idiotic and drunken smirk floods his face as rough hands slide under the sides of your underwear. "Depends. Am I gonna starve, or are you gonna let me eat it?"

The surprise on your face speaks for itself as his hands free the material from your hips. His hands come to your calves, guiding your legs to prop up and spread apart. "Let me just set my plate here- that's just perfect." It takes mere seconds for his tongue to slide between your folds, the sensation making you somewhat melt along the duvet under you. He doesn't continue in his stripe patterns but in zig-zags, waves - patterns that tease you and just barely hit your clit. Rhett keeps this behaviour up until you're grinding up against him, his hands grabbing your hips. The hold is tight, and sharp blue eyes glare up at you, darkening as you whine.

"You're gonna stay right where I put ya. Y'hear?"

"But-" He snaps up back onto his feet, hovering over you again, his finger tips gliding along your skin and delicately wrapping around your throat.

"Wanna try that again?" It's punctuated with the slightest squeeze, the revelation that he was truly in control. You shake your head, and he smirks, his eyes locking you and your attention in as he catches you off guard, his other hand pushing a finger into you, thoroughly soaked from his toying. "Good girl. You just sit there and look all pretty while I take care'a you." His hand at your lower half begin to pump in and out, his other hand still decorating your body in the form of a necklace. "You are just the damndest thing I ever did see, know that baby?"

Rhett's thumb comes from the side of your neck, tracing along your jawline and chin before it taps your bottom lip. "Open up, my girl." You do as you're told as he dips his thumb past your lips, instinctively closing around him. Your cheeks hollow out as you suck intently - the digit stifling the moan that vibrates through you as he gets another finger into you. "God you are so fuckin' beautiful." It's muttered as his hand picks up a pace, your body relaxing and holding onto him tightly in two separate places. The faster his hand rocks into you, the more distracted your tongue becomes, he can tell. Which is why his hand pulls back, using the slick from your lips to begin rubbing circles against your clit, the feeling making you sigh in contentment. His lips trap yours momentarily, his tongue running along your teeth as his hands blindly work against you.

"Fuck, you are so wet for me, aren't you?" Rhett pulls back, the both of you catching your breath as pushes - in, out, in out. Your jaw slacks, trying to get an answer out. A particularly rough thrust of his hand drives his question again. "Aren't you?"

Eagerly, you nod, a gasping answer sneaking out. "Yes, god, I'm so wet, so wet for you, Rhett."

His hands retreat, moments from letting you finish with just his fingers. The male is rapidly undoing his belt buckle, slithering a hand into his back pocket, fishing out a condom from it. He sticks it between his teeth as he barely manages to get his hard on free from his boxers.

Part of you wants to ask him to let you put it on, let you admire the length that has sprung free from his jeans, but you know he's working against a running clock. Someone is going to notice he's taking too long. He didn't want to run that risk it seems.

The wrapper disappears somewhere. You're sure it remains somewhere in the RV floorboards, but as he's entering you, there's no fucking way you care where the evidence went.

Rhett presses into you, inch by inch, his lips playing with a spot on your neck. He stretches you so well, a hiss coming from you that times well with how he sucks a bite mark onto your skin. "My girl's so tight for me. Fuckin' so goddamn tight." His voice is low, gruff and right in your ear.

The smell of his body wash hovers over you, mixing with the newly formed scent of sex in the air as he pulls back, only to move forward again. "Sweetheart, you want me to move?"

"Yes, yes I want you to move-"

"Ask me nicely, baby." He freezes above you, staring you down, piercing blue eyes drinking you in like this. Sweat slick from the stale air of an RV and the Miami heat, tucked under him, captive.

"Please move, baby. Please, I just wanna come." The expression he makes strokes your ego in ways it likely shouldn't.

"Oh you're gonna come, I'll promise you that- you're gonna come." His hips begin rutting into you as he stands up a little further, hands coming up under your knees. Propping your legs up slightly, not fully extended but providing an angle to get even deeper into you, a sound escapes you, pinpointing exactly when he does. As his thrusts move quicker and quicker, your legs seem to slip from his hands, leaving him to reach up on the bed, snagging the nearest pillow.

"Hips up, sweetheart." A pant leaves him as he aids you to pop up, sliding the cushion under you. Upon the next thrust, and each one after, Rhett continues to hit the exact same spot, earning himself a rhythm of moans that time with his hips. "Oh honey, if they didn't know, they sure do now."

His hand drops between where the two of you meet, his thumb returning to do paces, sending you careening off the edge and into a blazing white haze, your body shuddering from the sensation.

Your cowboy continues his pace, no faster, no slower - continuing to ride out until you're nodding, encouraging him along. His pace picks up, his lips snagging onto yours as the sound of a cell phone comes from the floor. It only serves as encouragement for him, until he's finishing, his upper body hovering over yours as sloppy kisses and whimpers from him fill the soundscape.

His phone stops ringing, and when he pulls out, you remain trapped under him. Rhett gives you one more slow kiss before he moves to pull off the condom, cleaning himself up. "I think that big brother of yours is lookin' for me." He charms, pulling his pants back up, zipping himself up.

"Seems like it does." You offer, squirming on the bed, not ready to get up yet. Rhett pulls his phone from his pocket, nodding and confirming that's who'd called.

This time, your phone starts going off.

Simultaneously, his does too.

Then there's a pounding coming from the RV door.

[katsukikitten]

"We don't have to celebrate."

"What?"

"We don't have to celebrate shit ya don't wanna." Touya says as he takes off his cowboy hat, tossing it onto the counter top, "We don't have to visit any shit family either."

He leaves it at that open ended before he adds, "Hell I'll take this fuckin tree and torch it ornaments and all. Ya want that? A bonfire? Ma just gave me a bunch of pictures with my fuck face in 'em. That'd be good kindlin."

He walks around the kitchen as he talks, grabbing for the jack Daniels not even bothering with the coke.

Hell didn't bother with a glass either.

He takes a swig and offers it out to you, waiting to see if you'll join him, give him an answer. Anything you wanted he'd give you, god knew he was selfish the rest of the god damn year but there was one thing Touya was good for.

Showing up when you needed him most, even if he did play the part of in between boyfriend because the two of you just didn't see eye to eye on what you were. One minute he wants to be fuck buddies only, the next he wanted to marry you, always seemingly at the time where you were on the opposing side. Never on the same page but the two of you sure as hell were bound in the same sad story.

He sets the bottle down with a snarl of his lip, pulling you to him by your wrist.

"Gotta tell me what ya want or I will torch that shit in the house." He tries to joke, looking around, "Take down all the gaudy lights, stab the blow up snowman, I'll even unwrap your presents darlin and I'll put em around the house like they've always been here."

His eyes spy something small and green hanging over your heads and it makes a smile bloom on his handsome lips. Devil's smile for such an angel face. He walks the two of you under it a bit more, boots thudding on the hardwood before he gently tilts your head up so you can see.

"But I ain't gettin rid of that. Gives me the excuse." Then he captures his lips with yours, large hand cradling the nape of your neck as he tilts you to give him better access. Tongue swiping over yours in a heated fervor that makes your skin feel as if it's on fire. He tastes like the Jack and it's dizzying how familiar the flavor is.

He pulls away just enough that he can look into your eyes, still holding your head. Wiping away a few of the stray tears.

"That's it, I'mma be the fuckin grinch." He growls before he kisses you again, grabbing for the heavily decorated tree and lifting it from the stand, kicking down the back door and slamming the storm screen door as he heads towards the fire pit because no one fucked with your heart. Not friends, family, or your temperamental roommate.

And especially not him.

@thecowboykatsuki-anon hope this gives you a bit of comfort babes I saw your post about selfship and wanted to give you some love

[mandoalorian]

Agent whisky (Teacher) x New agent (student). As you’re both fighting, you both get hot and bothered and reader throws him against a wall and the rest in folds. (Fem reader)

After Class [Jack Daniels x Reader] SMUT

Word count: 2.4k

Rating: 18+

Warnings: SMUT, p in v, creampie, choking, teacher x student, exhibitionist kink, implied age difference

Masterlist

He was insufferable. He was your teacher — and oh, you hated him. You hated how he'd come into class smelling like sweet, honeyed cologne, causing all the girls to swoon at the mere sight of him. It was laughable, really. He wasn't anything special. He was attractive, sure. He had the charm of a king and the politeness of a saint. But it didn't matter because you hated him, and you wanted him to know that you hated him. So you'd talk during his lectures and you'd roll your eyes whenever he tried addressing you directly. He had this know-it-all attitude, he had these deep, chocolate brown eyes that were so easy to get lost in. The Statesman Academy shouldn't have even hired him. It was so easy to get lost in those damn eyes.

His eyes were just a few shades darker than his hair, which he kept hidden under a cringe-worthy cowboy hat. But you'd be lying to yourself if you said you hadn't dreamt of wearing it while you ride him. The dirty fantasies about Mr Daniels (though he'd have you call him 'sir') didn't become regular until a few months ago. Now it was every single class where you became hypnotised by his attractive looks.

You hated his perfectly groomed mustache and how the thought of it brushing against your cunt haunted you during his seminars. You hated the perfect curve in his nose and how you imagined it nudging against your clit as he performed the most life changing oral on you. If only he knew about the things that went on in that filthy little mind of yours.

You practically gasped out loud when Mr Daniels dropped your assignment on the desk in front of you, a circle with a big red 'F' marked on. He quirked an inquisitive eyebrow at you, before moving on to hand out the rest of the essays. No way— there was no way that your essay has been marked fairly. You might have been slacking just a little this semester (due to Mr Daniels obnoxious handsome looks), but not to the extent of getting an F in your finals!

"Well done class, we all performed exceptionally well this term. There is however one person I need to see after class, she knows who she is," Mr Daniels glanced briefly at you and you narrowed your eyes, folding your arms over your chest. "But have an excellent vacation and remember don't party too hard." He winked cheekily before dismissing the class. Once the students filed out of the room, and the bell rang, signifying the end of the day, Mr Daniels stalked back into the classroom. He said nothing, didn't even spare you a look. He padded over to his desk, sunk into his chair and began to go through paperwork.

You waited for something— anything. The silence was deafening, and you began to tap your feet against the floor impatiently. Why the hell was he holding you hostage in his stuffy classroom on the last day of term? You assumed it was due to your abysmal grade on your essay, but he hadn't even mentioned it. He was ignoring you and once again, you hated him for it.

You were staring him out with absolutely no shame, taking in all his features. You admired his broad shoulders and watched his bicep flex as he wrote comments on the work he was checking through.

He'd noticed your staring too. He always had. He tried to contain the blush that crept up on his cheeks as your eyes burned into his body, watching his every move. You could cut the sexual tension with a knife. If he was going to speak to you about your essay result, he'd need to have a drink first. After a few more minutes of silence, he excused himself and left the classroom. Each professor at the academy had their own affinity for alcohol, Mr Daniels' beverage of choice being a glass of warm whiskey. He poured it into a small tumbler, admiring the amber liquid as he dropped a few cubes of ice in, letting it clink against the glass. The mere thought of you in his classroom, waiting for you, was enough to make his cock stir. He sighed, gulping down the liquid and made his way back to the classroom. It was the first time you and Mr Daniels had some one on one alone time. He hadn't drank enough to get intoxicated, but it was enough for him to lower his inhibitions.

He walked into the classroom and locked the door behind him, before turning to face you.

"Why am I here?" you asked with an unamused frown.

"You went from being a straight A student to getting an F in your most important exam of the year," Mr Daniels huffed with a disappointed shake of his head. You didn't care— no, you couldn't let yourself care about your professor. But seeing the despondency written across his face was enough to make your heart yearn with guilt for letting him down. "What happened?" he quizzed you eventually.

You considered his question. You weren't a dishonest person, and you knew exactly what had happened. You had been so distracted by your professor's ravenous demeanor, that you'd become too overcome with sexual desire to even focus the slightest in his lectures.

"You happened." you said, regretting the words as soon as they left your lips. Your voice broke slightly— you sounded pathetic.

"Excuse me?" he asked, raising both of his eyebrows in disingenuous surprise. You wanted to wipe the smirk that you saw creeping up on his lips. Your education wasn't a joke.

"I was doing fine in Agent Tequila's class," you acknowledged. "Maybe it's your teaching." you shrugged.

"My teaching?" Mr Daniels gasped incredulously.

"Oh quit playing dumb," you said, suddenly rising to your feet. Your chair scraped against the floor as you stalked over to your teacher. "I know my worth Mr Daniels, and it's not an F."

"Please, call me Jack." He hummed, reaching out and caressing your cheek. You subconsciously leaned into his smooth hand as his thumb rubbed gentle circles into your jaw. You hadn't even realised how close he had gotten to you as he admired your face, and the intimacy began to take effect down below.

"Oh, first name basis?" you spat sarcastically, pressing the palm of your hand against his chest, threading your fingers through the buttons of his white shirt so you could gently graze the skin of his tan chest. "How polite."

"Manners maketh man," he smirked, quoting the Statesman mantra, and you wanted to wack that dumb cowboy hat off his head. "Let me translate that for you," he pouted condescendingly, letting his hands fall to your own chest.

He squeezed your tits through your blouse, drawing a few wanton moans from you. "Wh- what makes you think I need that translated?" you asked your professor, trying to keep your cool. This is exactly what you had dreamt about for the past three months. His thumb rolled over your hardening nipples, pinching them now and again so he could watch you squirm underneath his touch.

"The F on your paper?" he shot back. Your eyes widened and you pushed him into the wall, his back slamming against the concrete as he groaned from the pressure you'd placed on him. He would be lying if he said it didn't feel good though. It was rare he'd have a lady take charge — especially not one as young and bright eyed as yourself.

"I hate you," you snarled as his fingers dipped under the hem of your short, pleated skirt. He chuckled darkly, sending a frenzy of butterflies erupting in your stomach.

"Oh sugar," he drawled, the smell of scotch lacing his breath as he pressed a soft kiss into your jaw. You couldn't contain the small whimper that escaped your lips. He smirked, knowing exactly what he could do to you— how he could make you feel. "Look at you… got me pressed against the wall. I'm your teacher." he reminded you with a small tut.

"You drive me crazy," you admitted in a fluster, your hand falling down his button up shirt and resting at his oversized belt buckle. The coolness of the metal stung your skin as you parted your legs slightly, rubbing what you could on his jean clad thigh. "When you stand up there, in front of the class, talking all that shit about, about-" you couldn't even get your words out as his fingers graced your cunt, feeling out your clit under the material of your dampening panties.

"What?" Jack murmured, his teeth grazing your jaw as he sucked softly against your skin. "What is it?" he urged you to continue, your breathing jumping as he continued to softly press his thick fingers along your aching core. You tried to answer but nothing except lewd moan came out, and you felt your cheeks heat up with embarrassment. "You joined the academy. You wanted to train as an agent. Maybe you'd prefer it if I transferred your classes to, let's say, Agent Champ? Or the sweet Ginger Ale?"

You curled your fingers around his leather belt. "N-no," you growled. "I want you," you revealed as you unclipped it and tossed it to one side. You groaned wantonly as you felt his erection press up against your thigh. It was clear that your professor wanted you too. "You know if- if Principal Champ finds out about this…" you moaned, working your fingers at Jack's zipper.

"He's not going to find out about this," Jack snapped, his harsh tone causing your eyes to snap open.

"O-okay cowboy," you bit your lip seductively, finally pulling his zipper down and freeing his hard, aching cock. You immediately wrapped your hand around him, smearing his precum down his length and started to pump at his erection, satisfied with the string of curses falling from his tongue.

"Fuck- so good," Jack praised as you worked his cock with your hands. "But I want more… I want to bury my cock in the warmth of your pussy. Would you like that baby girl?" he hummed, both his hands grabbing on your shoulders as he turned around and pushed you into the wall. You gasped as he ripped open your blouse in one swift manouver, the buttons popping and falling everywhere. His hungry lips pressed against yours as he slid his tongue into your mouth, kissing you roughly and with passion.

"Someone could just walk in." you gasped as Jack yanked your skirt down, letting it pool around your ankles.

He groaned longingly as he played with the waistband of your panties. "Lace? For school? I knew you were a dirty girl." he chuckled darkly before pulling them down. He wasted no time, pressed two fingers into your weeping cunt and rubbing between your folds. He stroked tight and precise circles into your clit, desperate to pump an orgasm out of you before he even entered. Your eyes snapped shut as you pressed your fingernails into his still clothed back. "Oh, you like that don't you?"

"Mm don't stop," you begged, rolling your hips against his fingers.

"Is this what you think about during my lectures?" Jack cooed. "Or do you imagine my cock?" He pressed his blunt tip against the inside of your thigh, pushing himself in between your legs. "So fucking wet and all for me." your professor shook his head in slight awe. You pushed the hat off his head and tangled your fingers in his dark brown hair, tugging teasingly in attempt to gain a reaction out of him.

Without warning, two of his fingers pushed inside of you and began to scissor you open. "If you want my cock I gotta make sure you're able to take it," he whispered huskily.

His fingers worked like magic and it wasn't long before your walls tightened around him and you reached your climax. "Greedy pussy." Jack sighed, removing his fingers and sucking them clean.

"Please sir, fuck me," you begged, your hands cupping his face as he lined himself up with your entrance.

"I told you, call me Jack," he growled before pushing himself deep into your quivering hole.

"Fuck Jack," you whined once he was fully seated. He was bigger than you had ever taken before, and he set a brutal pace. The classroom filled with obscene wet sounds as every single thrust became harder and sloppier as his balls slapped against your dripping cunt.

Jack kept up his pace, not halting once. "You always- you always fucking answer back," he whispered, digging one hand into your hip and bringing the other to your neck, squeezing it just enough for your eyes to widen slightly.

"Mm you always give me a reason too," you shot back and Jack's grip around you tightened as he fucked you senselessly.

"Shit, gonna cum. Gonna cum inside you and you're going to take it— understood?" he asked breathlessly. You nodded in affirmation and it only took a few more messy thrusts before he spilled his salty seed inside you.

He carefully sat you down on the edge of his desk as you came down from your own high. "Are you okay?" he asked you as he tucked himself back in his pants and adjusted his tie.

"That better have earned me an A," you muttered, biting your lip and shooting a seductive glance towards your teacher.

"Fair is fair," Jack shrugged. "You can leave when you're ready. Have a nice vacation." he smiled, back to his usual polite professor self. It made you sick— the way he could just fuck you with no remorse against the wall of his classroom and then pretend like nothing happened.

You stood up, taking your clothes from the ground and lazily sliding back into your skirt. "I don't have a fucking blouse," you mumbled, your eyes following the abundance of buttons that trailed across the floor. "You ruined it."

Mr Daniels took his suit jacket and wrapped it around your naked torso, buttoning it up gently so you were all covered up. "Do you need a lift home?" he asked.

You bit your lip, remembering your parents weren't home and smiled. "Actually, yeah please." you told him, wondering if he'd be interested in a round two.

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[glimmerglanger]

I love your writing so much 🥺 thank you for sharing your amazing talent with us! If you're still doing asks for HotR, may I please request some hurt comfort after an injury at the rodeo? I loooove cowboy!cody so much 🥺💕

Ooooh! I did not hurt Cody too badly here, but I could not resist the idea. Set some vague amount of time post the end of the story, established Codywan, with brief mentions of spicy things but nothing explicit.

~~~~

Cody knew he’d landed wrong before pain lanced from his hand to his elbow, grounding out in a white-hot flash that left him with an edge of nausea in his gut. He’d taken enough falls in his life to just know.

He didn’t let it slow him down, though, rolling to his feet fast, pushing up with his uninjured arm, because the left was giving hot little flashes each time he shifted. The bull that had just thrown him was still going, being herded away by other riders.

Cody slid his hat back on his head and moved for the ring’s exit at speed, ignoring his wrist for the moment. The pain still felt muted and far away, in any case.

Adrenaline had a way of doing that. He knew it was hurt. And knew, equally well, that he wouldn’t start feeling it - not really - until his heart rate started to slow. He’d been hurt before, in competition, nothing major, but often enough to know how it went.

And he was right. The pain started in earnest after he saw his official time, after he made his way back into the halls of the stadium and looked down to unbutton his sleeve, rolling back fabric and hissing at the brush of pressure over his wrist.

It wasn’t swelling much. Yet.

He frowned at it, and went to see one of the on-site doctors to see about wrapping it.

Wrapping it helped, a bit. The painkiller the doctor gave him barely touched the ache, but that was alright. He had the arm curled against his chest when Ben called him, something in his chest throbbing when Ben’s first words were, “Are you alright? What happened to your arm? I saw how you held it when you got thrown.”

“It’s fine,” Cody said, flexing his fingers and biting back a hiss. That hurt, which meant it probably wasn’t just a sprain. “Just a little banged up, that’s all.”

Ben made a doubtful sound over the line, and Cody grinned, helplessly, at no one. “How’d your finals go, today?” And he listened to Ben talk, leaning his shoulders against the wall, missing him and forgetting about the throbbing in his arm, just for a little while.

“I’ll be home tomorrow,” he said, eventually, a promise to both of them.

And Ben said, “I’ll be waiting.” And Cody leaned away from the wall, went to finish everything up, and agreed, when one of the doctors insisted, later, on getting an x-ray done on his wrist.

#

Ben was as good as his word, out on the porch when Cody drove up the lane. He preferred to drive home from competitions, whenever possible, to stay with Sunny the whole way, the trailer pulled behind his truck. Flights were for emergencies.

He hoped never to take one again.

Ben frowned at his arm as soon as Cody stepped out of the truck, hesitating a step away while Anakin ran all the way up, tail wagging like crazy as he sniffed Cody’s boots and jeans. “Shit,” Ben said, eyes on the splint, “you said it was just a little banged up.”

“It is,” Cody told him, taking the last step towards him and wrapping his good arm around Ben, pulling him closer, down into a kiss.

“Cody,” Ben said, when he pulled back, hands gentle on Cody’s sides, a change from their usual reunion embraces. “That’s--”

“Just a fracture,” Cody told him, glancing down at his fingers. They’d swollen over the night and his drive back home. “It’ll heal up fine.”

“I--” Ben started, still frowning, but whatever else he would have said got swallowed up when the rest of the family descended en masse, swarming around with congratulations and slaps on his back and murmurs of concern about his arm.

Between the mess of them, they got Sunny out of the trailer and walked back to the barn, they got his supplies unloaded and stowed away, and were swept up into the main house for a meal, everyone trying to talk at once about everything.

Cody exhaled and breathed in, contentment settling across him, the same way it always did after he came home.

#

Cody felt drowsy by the time they ended up back in their space, Ben opening the door for him and herding him inside, back to their bedroom.

Cody reached for the buttons on his shirt and snorted, his fingers still swollen and aching. Getting dressed that morning had been….less than enjoyable. Still, he’d managed, and--

“Let me help with that,” Ben said; he’d already pulled off his sweater, tossing it into the hamper. Cody shivered, a little, as Ben tugged his shirt out of his pants, before reaching for the top button, popping it loose.

“I can undress myself,” Cody told him, though he made no move to impede Ben’s progress. “It’s really not that bad, Ben.”

“Mm,” Ben said, noncommittal, half the buttons undone already, his gaze intent as he finished the last one and reached up to gently slide the fabric off Cody’s shoulders. “Here,” he said, moving to push the shirt off Cody’s right arm before carefully tugging it off the left.

Cody hissed, just a bit, when the fabric tugged on the splint, and Ben went still, glancing over with worried eyes, all naked concern that just--

Cody reached out with his right hand, curling his fingers against Ben’s shoulder, pulling him closer to kiss him softly. “I’m fine,” he said, against Ben’s mouth. “I promise. This isn’t the first time I’ve fractured it. Won’t be the last, probably.”

Ben winced a little, but nodded. Cleared his throat and said, “How can I make you feel better?”

Cody hummed, thoughtful, stroking his thumb against Ben’s neck. “Well, taking off my clothes was a good start.”

Ben snorted a laugh, sudden and surprised, eyes crinkling just a little in the corners. “Oh, really?” he asked, and tugged Cody’s undershirt free of his pants, as well, sliding his hands under the fabric, onto Cody’s skin.

“Yeah,” Cody said, taking another kiss, “keep that up. I’m feeling better already.”

Ben rolled his eyes with a grin, but took his time pulling the shirt up and off, guiding it down Cody’s arm with care, nudging him back a step, hands pulling Cody’s belt open and dragging down his zipper.

“Any other injuries I should know about?” Ben asked, shifting to brush a kiss against his throat and then his shoulder, hands so warm and familiar and--

“Feel free to look,” Cody said, and Ben huffed against his skin, but listened to the suggestion, thoroughly. And, when he was finished - finding a few bumps and bruises along the way - and had checked each inch of skin with his fingers and mouth, they ended up curled together.

“Your arm,” Ben started, hair disordered and mouth all red, concern washing across his expression again.

“Is fine,” Cody told him, snugging close against him, grabbing a pillow and leaning it over Ben’s stomach. “You’re a great rest for it. See?” he added, resting his arm over the pillow, ignoring the ache of it, throbbing a bit worse after the physical activity got his blood pounding.

Ben gave him a look but settled after a beat, murmuring, “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” Cody told him, and kissed his shoulder.

“I’m glad you’re alright,” Ben said, quietly, into the dark, a few moments later, voice a rasp. Cody squeezed him a little tighter, nuzzled closer, and they fell asleep, just like that.

[writerofshit]

(I mentioned briefly a story of how the Stream Team met. This is that story.)

Somewhere in Los Santos, in the late night hours of a Tuesday, a convenience store is robbed. So is one several blocks southeast. And one roughly in the middle of them both. After all, what's more convenient than 24 hour chili dogs on every other street corner?

Cash. Cash is more convenient. So are guns. Hollering, waving one to get the other. Most important, back alleys that twist and turn, snaking away from increasingly distant sirens. Three individuals find themselves running through these alleys, a couple grand each weighing their pockets down.

It's through serendipity and convenience that their paths cross.

The man from the farthest store arrives first. He's done this a few more times than he'd like to admit, so he'd had a plan. Of sorts. Cut through the park, take a few sidewalks like an upstanding citizen, under the bridge and find a fire escape to utilize from there. There aren't any that reach the ground, of course, because he's smart but not quite enough.

And so this is why Trevor is standing in an dark alley, contemplating whether or not the dumpster will give him enough height to reach the ladder, when the man from the middle store appears. He's around Trevor's height, but would probably win in a fight between them, if he were so inclined. He doesn't seem to be, though. He seems shaken, like he's not quite sure how he ended up in this alley. He's holding a gun almost gingerly, as if it might bite him.

Trevor pulls his own gun.

'dont you fuckin' try anything!'

This does not go over well with Matt. He takes a step back, and then seems to remember that he also has a gun so maybe this is even footing. He holds it aloft, finger nowhere near the trigger.

'same, asshole!'

At this moment the robber from the first store arrives, also, of course, with a gun. And a mask. And an entire purple and orange neon fucking suit, actually, topped with a white cowboy hat. It gives them a few extra inches of height they are distinctly lacking, comparatively. Somewhere in the back of his head, Trevor acknowledges that this newcomer could probably kick his and the other gunman's asses. It is not a pleasant thought.

'oh, what the fuck!?'

Jeremy sounds more annoyed and less scared than one would think, considering they've run into an alley only to find two men with guns. Two men who quickly turn those guns on them.

'who the fuck are you?'

The question surprises them all, including Matt, even though he's the one who asked. As it turns out, people have a tendency to say the first thing that comes to mind when in a stressful situation. Such as, having robbed a convenience store for the very first time and immediately finding himself face to face with other apparent robbers. It would get to anyone, probably.

'i don't want any trouble, but i've already robbed someone tonight and i don't give a shit about felony murder!'

Two lies and a truth, is what Trevor has chosen to play, for some reason. In reality, one does not rob a convenience store at gun point if one is intent on staying out of trouble. And he does, in fact, care very deeply about felony murder. Felony murder is the precise reason he'd shot a bag of Doritos and not a clerk. In his defense, the clerk had initially rolled her eyes at him, asked what exactly he thought he'd get out of this. He'd found this question rude.

The truth, of course, is that he did rob a convenience store. That did happen. No take backs.

'so did i!'

Matt and Jeremy speak so in unison it's almost scary. If they didn't know any better, they'd think the two of them had always known each other.

Trevor's gun wavers between them, unsure which is the bigger threat. The guy who clearly has zero experience with guns, or the weirdo who seems to have far too much? It's a toss up, really. So his aim pinballs back and forth, but his finger does not curl around the trigger. He's serious about that felony murder thing.

The air seems to shift, suddenly, and the sound of sirens is now growing closer. This evidently also annoys Jeremy, and they throw a glance over their shoulder to the direction they'd come from. Red and blue lights flicker past.

'shit. ok. we're all robbers, i guess, and we're all fucked if we keep standing here. who's got a plan?'

Jeremy's eyes are staring impatiently at Trevor. Eyes being the only part of their face Trevor can see. And their hands, a plastic bag in one and a gun in the other.

Trigger finger is an apt name.

He glances at Matt, still wild eyed and glancing back and forth. No, Matt probably does not have a plan. He sort of gives the impression that he's never had a plan ever, actually. That perhaps he'd simply woken up here and decided to wing it. So Trevor makes an offer.

'fire escape?'

There's another moment of tense silence. Well, minus the sirens. And oh, helicopters. Even better. Jeremy shrugs.

'good a plan as any.'

And then they're off, brushing past Trevor and hoisting themself up onto the dumpster. He knew it could work. Trevor blinks and Jeremy has caught the ladder, is quickly working their way up. Shit, how does five foot something manage to get that high on a good day, much less in this situation and with a bag and gun in hand?

Matt's gun clatters to the ground, and honestly, that's probably for the best. He's climbing onto the dumpster now, and he mutters something about not signing up for this shit. Trevor reminds him that he apparently robbed someone, so yeah, he kind of did.

Before Trevor climbs up, he shoves his gun into his jacket pocket. Smart? Probably not. Convenient? More so than climbing with a gun in his hand. He follows Matt up the ladder, wondering what happened to his plan. Yeah, the ladder had been involved. Two other people, however, were not.

Above them, glass shatters.

'warning, maybe!?'

'oops. careful, there's glass.'

Jeremy's voice is no longer directly above them. Instead, it comes from one story up and a little to the left. So they've broken into an apartment. Sure, add breaking and entering to the list of charges, that sounds great. But Matt and Trevor follow, because there's not really another option.

Inside the apartment, Jeremy's mask is gone. The suit is quickly disappearing as well, revealing a rather boring outfit of a white tank top and...sweatpants? The true mystery lies in where the cowboy hat has gone to, because that's a hard item to miss.

'do we really have time for this? don't you think someone might, oh, i don't know, wake up and call the cops?'

Trevor doesn't mean to hiss, it's just that he's sure there's more pressing matters to attend to than an outfit change. Continuing to flee, perhaps.

'nobody's gonna wake up.'

They don't even have the wherewithal to lower their voice. It registers to Trevor that Jeremy's bag and gun are missing as well. Had they dropped them on the way up? It was certainly possible. Trevor thinks he would have noticed a gun flying past his head, but there's a lot going on.

'can we maybe not kill anyone? he brought up a good point with that felony murder thing.'

It's the most words Matt has strung together since he'd shown up. It's damn near a whisper, but at least it's progress.

'i'm not- god, can you two shut up? i gotta make a phone call.'

Jeremy yanks the door open, hand carefully wrapped in the fabric of their shirt. For a moment, Trevor thinks they're leaving and steps forward to follow Jeremy. Instead, Jeremy turns and heads toward the kitchen, pulling open a drawer and digging inside it briefly. They come back with a cell phone.

Something dawns on Trevor.

'is this- do you live here? did you break your own window?'

Jeremy doesn't answer. They put the phone to their ear.

'you're gonna wanna hide whatever you've got. and try not to look like you just climbed in through a window.'

And then-

'hello? yes, hi, i'd like to report a break in, i think? i was hearing a bunch of sirens and then i don't know what happened but some guy just broke my window? he ran through and i just- my friends and i are really scared and we didn't know what to do- yes, we're ok, he's gone, but we- you'll send someone? ok, thank you. the address? oh, uh, it's the del perro heights building, apartment 7. should i shut the door? no, don't touch anything. ok- guys, don't touch anything, she said someone's on their way to check on us! thank you so much- no, i think we'll be fine. thank you.'

It's a marvelous performance. Jeremy genuinely sounds like some poor flustered victim of a crime. Trevor would applaud if he thought Jeremy would appreciate it. Almost immediately, their voice is back to normal.

'check things out my ass. they're gonna show up, ask which way he went and never call me again. feel real fuckin safe.'

Jeremy settles themself onto the couch, choosing the spot closest to the door. Matt, who has apparently gotten over his initial terror, wanders into the kitchen. Searching for something to distract himself, if Trevor had to guess. Trevor is still standing in the middle of the living room, dumbfounded. How did a simple robbery become hanging out with other robbers, waiting for cops to show up?

'i'm jeremy, by the way. they won't ask, but y'know. just in case.'

They're flipping channels on the tv, seeming to arbitrarily skip almost a dozen programs. Finally, they settle on one and stand. Trevor recognizes it as an old Disney movie, and desperately wants to ask why the fuck Jeremy has put this on.

'uh, hi. i'm trevor. why are we watching Mulan?'

'matt. oh hell yeah, i love this movie!'

He sounds remarkably cheerful, considering the circumstances. How Trevor had seemingly switched places with Anxious McGee is beyond him. He needs to get it together. He pulls his gun from his pocket and takes it to the kitchen, sticking it in the drawer Jeremy had taken the phone from. There are several other phones of varying price point. He steps back to the living room just in time.

'that's why.'

They don't elaborate. Apparently Trevor is meant to just figure this out on his own, which ordinarily he might be able to do. After the course of events of this particular evening? Not a chance.

But he can't ask, because now there's a cop in the doorway and he's staring at Trevor and that will never be a good thing. Trevor stares back. He has no clue what he's meant to say. Hello? Welcome? He went that way?

'oh thank god! we've been so terrified, we didn't know if he'd come back or what he'd do.'

Naturally, Jeremy has taken lead on this. They're a phenomenal actor, Trevor has to admit.

'did you see which direction he went?'

'toward the stairs, i think. we've all been rooted to the spot, you know, it's so scary-'

Matt freezes in the doorway of the kitchen. He's just out of the view from the front door.

'right, well. you boys did the right thing by calling. can you give me a description of the man?'

The corner of Jeremy's mouth quirks.

'gosh, it all just happened so fast. taller than me, probably, but shorter than you, wouldn't you say, trey?'

Trevor nods, because he's not quite sure what else to do.

'alright, thank you. someone will be in touch with you for an official statement. in the meantime, if you remember anything else don't hesitate to call.'

He's holding a card out to Trevor, of all people. He takes it carefully, like if he does it wrong somehow the guy will know and arrest them all. The card is simply the number for a tip line.

As suddenly as he'd arrived, the cop is gone and they're all breathing sighs of relief. Jeremy closes the door.

'you guys can stay for Mulan, if you want.'

So they do.

Trevor asks about why Mulan again, and Jeremy explains that they assume most people have seen it, could answer any questions about it if they came up. Perhaps, if LSPD officers were less incompetent, they would have. Although if that were the case, they wouldn't be LSPD officers at all.

Matt asks about the window, and Jeremy says yes, they did break their own window. Of course they'd had an actual plan when they'd entered the alley. They were always going to end up exactly here, give or take the extras. Asking for a plan was simply a test, determining the merit in bring them along. They'd passed.

Jeremy asks if they want to stay for Mulan II, which is apparently up next. They do.

Somewhere in Los Santos, in the early morning hours of a Wednesday, three convenience stores are recovering from three separate robberies. Right in the middle of them all, their respective robbers are sitting on a couch together, watching a straight to video children's film.

It is the beginning of something far greater than any of them can imagine.

[alwaysbeliev]

Same as the Last

pairing: Arthur x Reader

summary: Mary Linton has summoned Arthur once again, and he has dropped everything to see her. You're left at Shady Belle to wonder what is going on and what it means for your relationship.

word count: 1,782

notes: you can find this on AO3 under the same username, if you wish to give it love there, too! it’s been a long time since i really got into writing, so i’m taking baby steps. it might be small, but i hope you enjoy it anyway!

Curse that Mary Linton.

Pacing, pacing, all you could do was pace. The others were getting tired of it. Mrs. Grimshaw had already given you several chores, all of which you completed at haphazard speed. The laundry was still dripping on the line, puddles forming underneath in the already soaked ground. It was gonna take a thousand years to dry. But you had other things on your mind.

“Is that from your secret lover?” you had teased Arthur earlier. A letter had arrived for him, brought from the post office by Pearson, and he had scarcely looked at it when you asked. He chuckled at your joke. But as he studied the writing and unfolded the paper, his smile fell, replaced with a strange mixing of emotions you couldn’t quite place.

“No, it’s…” His voice trailed off as his eyes scanned the words before him. 

“Arthur?” You tried peeking over his shoulder, but in a defensive move, he turned so you couldn’t see it. “Is everything okay?”

Your mind started racing as you wondered what it might be. As far as you were aware, the outlaw had no outside obligations. None of the gang did. Quickly, you started cycling through any recent or semi-recent events, wracking your brain for an answer, anything that might help solve this weird and uncomfortable puzzle. Maybe it was some kind of summons? You’d heard of the law issuing letters. But if that were the case, then the gang’s pseudonym at the post office was compromised. Was it related to unfinished business in Valentine? 

It suddenly clicked. Right as Arthur finished reading, you said, “Mary.”

“I, uh... “ At least he had the decency to look sheepish. He nodded.

Immediately, your mood had soured. And it had only gone downhill from there. The letter arrived this morning, Arthur had read it after breakfast, and offered it to you to read after he had finished. It was from Mary, alright. She was in Saint Denis, and, yet again, she was begging for Arthur’s help. You tried not to be angry, but you were. Mary was long before you and you knew that, and yet, you were still strangely jealous of her. Despite existing long before you in Arthur’s life, she was still receiving so much attention, so much of his time, so much of his… You couldn’t think of what it was exactly, but it was infuriating. 

And now, here you were. Mid-afternoon. Roaming aimlessly around Shady Belle, getting on everyone’s nerves. Pearson, who was usually one to nag those who were bored into helping prep the food, was avoiding you like the plague. You had taken to practicing your aim, your volcanic pistol in your hand, squinting at the glass bottles you had lined up on the end of the dock. It was cruel, but you imagined each one was Mary and Arthur. Bang! There goes the engagement ring. Bang! Their stupid faces kissing. Bang!

You jumped about a mile in the air as the last gunshot came from behind you. Whirling around, you found yourself face to face with Arthur, lowering his revolver. He was smiling, just a slight lift to the left side of his mouth, and he pretended to blow smoke from the barrel of his weapon, spinning it poorly around his finger before replacing it in his holster. He approached you with his thumbs hooked in his belt to admire his work. 

“Always were a strong shot,” he commented, nodding his head towards the bottles. 

“You’ve been doing this a long time,” you grumbled. Arthur chuckled.

“Not me, I was talkin’ about you.”

You could only half shrug. You didn’t want to look him in the eyes, though you knew he was searching for yours. He sighed deeply and shuffled his feet.

“Look, can we- Can we talk? I don’t want this to be turned into a, a big thing.”

Reluctantly, you lifted your eyes and met his. The look on his face was begging you to have pity on him, exposing a strange vulnerability you had been seeing more from him lately. It tugged at your heartstrings and you finally caved. You tossed your head back, staring at the sky for a second as you exhaled sharply, drawing strength from the clouds above you. 

“Fine.” 

With a flourish, you extended your arm in a sweeping, “Right this way” motion, indicating he lead the way to a quiet spot. He stared at you a moment before stepping past you, walking towards the house. You trailed behind him, your mind returning to its tumultuous state it had been in most of the day. He had been gone so long, the sun was starting to go down, painting the campsite in orange hues. What could he have been doing all day? Mary hadn’t said what was going on in her letter, just hinted at it. You had spent an hour looking over it and scouring it for information. Man, your stomach hurt from the anxiety.

The two of you ended up in your shared room on the upper floor of the former plantation home. Arthur had held the door open for you, and you found yourself unable to sit down. Behind you, Arthur tried to encourage you to sit, but you could only shake your head. He edged past you to take a seat instead.

For a long while, you just stared at each other. Arthur removed his hat and ran a hand through his hair. You couldn’t bring your mind to form any words for him. All the anger you had had that morning started to drain out of you at the sight of him. There was a sad air around him, something had happened, but you weren’t sure you wanted to hear what. He finally broke the gaze you had each other trapped in and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“How’s Mary?” Your voice finally broke the silence. You cut him off preemptively, scared of what he may have been about to say.

“She’s just fine,” he answered, apparently relieved to hear you speak. “So’s her father, the bastard.”

“It was about her father?”

“Yeah, no good asshole spending money he don’t even have.” The venom in Arthur’s voice made your skin crawl. It was easy to forget, in more tender moments, that he was an outlaw. The fire in his eyes lasted less than a second, however, rapidly replaced by the strange sadness from before. “He, uh… He tried to sell her mother’s brooch. For his.. Hell, I don’ even know, whatever he keeps spending money on. Same shit it’s always been.”

You were frozen, watching him carefully. He didn’t look up. Thinking there was more, you allowed the silence to continue, but the air was still heavy and you needed the weight off your chest.

“Was that all?” you finally asked. Your voice came out soft and fragile. You had your answer when Arthur turned his head upwards, the slightest guilty smile tugging on the corner of his mouth, and the churning feeling returned to your stomach. “Well, did you-- Did you kiss her?”

Arthur let out a bark of laughter. Suddenly, you felt very silly for even asking. 

“Darlin’, no,” he said. With a whoosh of air, your shoulders relaxed, and you even felt a smile approaching your own face. “I didn’t kiss her. But I’d be lyin’ if I said it hadn’t crossed my mind.” The tightness returned as quickly as it had left. Anger bubbled upwards, rushing hot to your head, and you opened your mouth to accuse him, but the look in his eyes registered: it was pain. Pain?

“Arthur,” you whispered, “what happened? Please tell me.” 

Making eye contact once again, the cowboy shifted on the bed and gestured for you to sit beside him, this time closer to a command than suggestion. Hesitantly, you joined him. Your hands were placed gingerly in your lap. He returned to his previous position, elbows on his knees, and he barely looked to you as he recounted everything that happened. He started with Mary shouting to him from the balcony, to their almost argument about the what-ifs of their past, through pursuing her father and chasing down the brooch. They had gone to the theater together. A date? And, finally…

“Mary… Mary asked me to run away with her.” 

The range of emotions running through your head was making you dizzy. Too much to process, too much to consider, so much anger at her, anxiety towards Arthur’s thoughts. You stared hard at your fingers, picking absentmindedly at a loose thread on your clothes. You wondered at what the conversation was like, what Arthur had said, what his expression had betrayed. Did Mary mean it? Was she truly still thinking about him all these years later? Would she ever stop trying to take him away?

“Say somethin’.” His gaze turned to you, the worry clear in his voice. His piercing blue eyes were burning into the side of your head. Without enough time to compose a kinder phrasing, you spluttered out the first thought you had.

“So why didn’t you?”

“Why--?” Arthur chuckled, a low rumble deep in his chest. Relief, you realized, was the cause for his sudden change of tone. “Mary has played me for a fool more times than I can count. We was just kids, then. We’re… Well, we’re grown now, things have changed. Besides, I love you too much to disappear like that.”

Every other thought left your mind. I love you. I love you. I love you… He had never said those words to you. They were spoken every day through action, sure, but out loud… They were almost taboo. Tears filled your eyes as you looked up into his face. His eyes widened in alarm.

“You love me?” you managed to say, your voice strained by the tightening of your throat.

“I have, for a while,” he said. “I-I’m sorry, I jus’ didn’t know how to say it. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that, but it’s the truth. I do love you, darlin’. I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

Relief in the purest form of ecstasy washed over you. You threw your arms around Arthur’s neck, pulling him in for a tight hug. He stiffened for a moment before returning the embrace. His warmth filled you up and washed out every bad feeling and thought you had that day. 

“I love you, too,” you said softly, burying your face in his neck. He still carried the smells of Saint Denis with him, but you didn’t care. He didn’t smell like Mary Linton, and he never would. He was yours.

[mudhornchronicles]

dreamboat | greaser!frankie morales | part two

diner cred to @thatretrobitch​

pairing: francisco “catfish” morales x reader; 1950’s greaser!frankie x reader

warnings: swearing, drinking, smoking, ya know… 1950s stuff + death and war, and being rude af

a/n: part two of dreamboat

masterlist

dreamboat: part one | part two

“If I didn’t know any better, Francisco, I’d say you were teacher in a past life.” You look up at him and smirk. He looks over to you and gives you a crooked smile. He adjusts his jacket and runs his left hand through his hair.

Frankie taught you a lot more history than the teacher. Frankie had a lot more patience and explained each topic that was covered in much better detail and simply enough to understand. Like when Hattie Wyatt Caraway of Arkansas became the first woman elected to the U.S. Senate in 1932 to fill the vacancy caused by the death of her husband. Frankie compared it to the demonstration of the first long distance telephone service between New York and San Francisco in 1913 – surprising but needed.

You didn’t have Frankie for a third period, just first and fourth, but he made sure to meet you out each of your classes and walked you over to your next class. He had conversed with the boys about asking you to Rosie’s Diner on Friday night. Everyone knows when a guy takes a little darlin’ down to Rosie’s, she’s unavailable. Frankie knows you probably don’t know what going to the diner with him means but he assumes if you did, you wouldn’t go. So he decides that the less you knew the better – well at least that’s what Tom decided.

“Ya know, doll. I like the way you say my name, but how ‘bout ya just call me Frankie, huh? I don’t use the entire thing anymore.”

You cock your head to the side and your smiles turns into a slight frown. “Do you not like the way Francisco sounds?”

He tucks his hands into his jean pockets, shrugs, and looks down at his dirty Chuck Taylors. “Thanks, I do like it, but it don’t… it don’t sound cool, you know? I got a reputation to keep up – all the guys do.”

Frankie stopped using the name Francisco at the start of freshman year. Pope stopped using Santiago around the same time. Their teachers would call them Francis and Saint because they found it difficult to pronounce the boys’ names correctly. Frankie was too shy to say anything and Pope was still unsure about his accented English, so when Will laughed and told the teacher, “Ain’t that a bite? You got a degree, but can’t pronounce an ABC name,” the boys knew Will was going to be a great friend. The boys thought that would be the end of it, but then Benny decided to join his brother and say, “How ‘bout, since ya feel so high and mighty, you call ‘em Frankie and Pope? We got Francisco like that city on the west coast, so call ‘em Frankie. Then we got Santiago. You wanna call ‘em Saint, then give ‘em the highest honor.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better,” you stopped walking and placed a hand on his arm. “I like your name. I think it suits you very well.”

He smiles and nods. He doesn’t know if he’s nodding because he’s convincing himself he likes it too or if he’s nodding because he’s glad you like it too. He liked your company because you weren’t too invasive, but he could also tell that you wanted to get to know him. He knew he wasn’t the most open to people, he has his father to thank for that.

As young 19-year-old – about a year older than Frankie – his father was drafted and fought in World War 1 in 1918 as a US Army soldier and was then sent off to France a few weeks in to fight with the AEF, the American Expeditionary Forces. Because of this, Frankie’s father wasn’t the most expressive when in public but was easily the most caring when it came to his family. When Frankie was growing up, his father had spoiled his baby boy and made sure he worked hard as a welder so that Frankie wouldn’t want for anything. Frankie remembers his father coming home from work late at night, oil and bits of metal stuck to him, and always turning his frown into a smile when he laid eyes upon his son.

His father’s closure to the world only grew when he saw his family in danger. Frankie figured that by growing up within a military family, it would lead to him serving in the military as his father did before him. When Frankie was coming to the age of enlistment, he told his family about him wanting to go off to the military, but his father was very much against it. All his father wanted for his son was for Frankie to live his life the way he wanted to, so Frankie didn’t enlist. One day when Frankie was at school, recruiters came to the Morales home and were knocking the door down. Frankie’s father had informed them that his son would not be serving. He was told that because Frankie was able, male, and was soon to be of age, he had to enlist whether he was needed or not. His father complied; except he wrote his own name down instead of his son’s.

His father never regretted going to war. He still had nightmares, which Frankie knew all too well. He had met Frankie’s mother when he came back home in 1921 and after years of trying, he was blessed with a son in 1935. All was good in the world until the year 1950 – Frankie was 15 years old. In August of 1950, a letter came in the post reading the following:

SIR: FRANCISCO MORALES SR.

You are hereby notified that you, on the 21 day of August of 1950, have been legally drafted in the service to the Armed Forces of the United States of America. You are to report to the Armed Forces station below and will be transported to Daejeon, Korea.

Frankie’s father never came back.

His body was never recovered – just his ID tags. Frankie’s mother was told that the last transmission received with the whereabouts of Francisco Morales Sr. were near the Nakdong River in South Korea. Frankie always carried his father’s ID tags around his neck no matter where he went. Those tags always reassured him of himself knowing that he was doing what his father wanted him to do.

Frankie walked you down the steps of school building and stopped at the sidewalk. “Ya know, if ya need a ride, I can take ya home – aint no trouble.”

You smile and shake your head. “I appreciate that. I told my mother I’d take the bus back home.” You knew your mother would have a fit if she saw you get dropped off by a boy, but she may still be at work. You looked back at Frankie and saw that he had a slight frown on his face as he played with a necklace hidden in his white t-shirt. You weren’t sure the reason behind it, but he didn’t want to pry. “Actually, I’ll take a ride.”

His eyes lit up and nodded. “Great but I do gotta warn ya, doll. I gotta take Ironhead and Benny back to their place. Pope usually goes back to mines.” A ride home in a car full of teenage boys – what can go wrong?

The pair of you walk down to the school’s parking lot and there you see students laughing in their cars – 4 to 5 in a car – all while having a smoke and others are drinking from beer cans. You have no doubt that it’s beer cans when one gets tossed towards you with left over beer splattering over your white skirt. Frankie takes notice of the yellow stains and the grimace growing on your face. He looks over at the teenagers in a beat-up Chevy.

“Aye watch where ya tossin’ shit, birdbrain.” The teens look over at Frankie and walk over to him. You place a hand on his arm and look up at him.

“Frankie, c’mon. Let’s just go to your car, huh?” you plead. His arm tightens and as the teens arrive in front of him, Frankie protectively put you behind him and adjusts his jacket – a tick of his you’ve taken note of. The three boys who walked over to Frankie look over at you and smirk.

“Well shit Frankie, pal.” One of them takes a smoke and blows the out towards his side. “You already smashin’ up this little new betty? Don’t you work fast… first Michelle, then Tiffany, now this one?”

Frankie’s jaw tightens and his hold on your arm shifts. “How ‘bout you stuff it, Jack? You know you ain’t even supposed to be here. This ain’t your turf.”

Jack removes his hat, a cowboy hat he’s become fond of, and fixes his hair. He puts it back on and laughs. “You’re right, but I clearly don’t care. Oberyn ain’t out the can ‘till Friday, so I call the shots. My boys wanna be here and screw all these chick-a-dees, then they will. I know you ain’t gon’ do nothin’.”

“He will,” you hear a click and quickly turn your head to see Pope and the boys, Benny holding up a pocketknife. “But he ain’t doin’ it alone either.” The Bandits circle the three men and puff up their chests.

“Alright,” Jack holds his hands up. “We’re gone but trust me when I say that Oberyn ain’t gon’ be too happy to hear this.” With that he snaps his head over to his boys directing them back to their car. They turn to leave and Jack walks away backwards. When he’s satisfied with the distance between himself and The Bandits, he turns on his heel and runs to his car. He jumps in the driver’s seat, gives his girl a smooch, and revs the engine – with that he’s gone.

Pope looks at you and gives your shoulder a quick squeeze. “You good? Hope those bumrats ain’t spook ya too bad.” You shake your head and smile shyly. You look down at your ruined skirt and shrug.

“Just a ruined skirt but that’s okay. I wasn’t fond of it.” Will laughs at your comment fluffs yours skirt from the bottom, earning a nudge from Frankie.

“Let’s get her home, huh? I gotta drop off everyone else,” Frankie says. Tom tells Frankie that he’s got detention and to go on without him. Tom goes back towards the building while everyone piles up in Frankie’s Cherry Red 1945 Mustang GT – his father’s gift to him for his 15th birthday, also his last gift.

Per usual, Benny and Will leans the driver’s seat forwards and get in to sit in the back while Pope goes to sit in his usual spot as shotgun. Frankie tuts at Pope and points to the back. Pope scoffs but shoots Frankie a wink. He gets in and sits in between the brothers, being the smallest of the three, and Frankie runs over to open the door for you to sit up front. He grabs your books and hands them to Pope. As you situate yourself and buckle your seatbelt, Frankie gets in and turns on his baby. He revvs the engine and backs up out the school’s parking garage, but not before revving his engine one more time for the freshmen per Benny’s request.

On the drive to the brother’s house, Benny grabs your notebook and looks through your notes of the day. He looks through the math notes you took during 4th period and immediately closes it. “You sure are smart if you’re taking this angle stuff. I’m guessing it’s college prep?”

You look over your shoulder and nod. “I’m currently taking college preparatory trigonometry. They unfortunately didn’t have any other advanced placement for me here.”

The boys let out a harmony of “ohs” and Will shakes Frankie’s shoulder. “Frankie! She’s smart like you, buddy!”

Pope smirks and joins in on the teasing. “Lo vez, hermano! Being smart doesn’t make you un-cool. Being you does! No te hagas ver como el tonto porque no lo eres.”

You see, brother… don’t make yourself seem dumb because you aren’t.

You look at Pope and smile. “I agree with you, Santiago. Frankie is very intelligent so he shouldn’tdumb himself down because he thinks that’s what people think of him.” Pope stops and looks at you. “You know some Spanish, angel face?” You eagerly nod. “I’m very familiar with the language. They had us choose electives at my old school. I took Spanish, Italian, and French. I had a lot of a free time.”

Pope looks at you in shock but happily hollers. “Well sugar you sound pretty good speakin’ ‘em”

You couldn’t explain it, but you felt giddy. You felt happy to be around the boys and you knew you wanted to continue to be around them.

With Frankie getting out of the car and moving his seat forward, Will and Benny get dropped off first, but not without teasing him about “asking the chick.” Frankie flips them off and Pope lets out a belly laugh. Frankie apologetically looks at you and mouths sorry. You blush and mouth that’s okay.

Once leaving the brothers, Pope tells Frankie to turn up the radio. Frankie looks at Pope through the rearview mirror and narrows his eyes. “Switch to 12,” Pope says with a wink. Frankie rolls his eyes and turns the knob so the needle hits channel 12. Once Frankie hears the recognizable melody from “Takes Two to Tango” by Pearl Bailey. Frankie goes to switch the channel, but you stop his hand. He glances over to you and he sees you mouthing the words. He looks back at Pope who wiggles his eyebrows and sings out loud and to Frankie’s surprise, you join Pope singing at the top of your lungs. He laughs at your attempts at dancing in your seat and looks back at Pope who was waving his hands in the air.

Frankie thought that you’d be this proper, shy little thing but here you were having singing and laughing with his best friend. You gave him the slightest nudge and smiled in his direction. “C’mon Frankie. Don’t be a sour puss. I know you know this song!” You were right. He did know this song. He and Pope sang it so much because Pope thought he could woo some girl – he didn’t really know what the lyrics meant so you can guess what happened. If you guessed he slept with her… you’d be correct.

You poked Frankie in the ribs light enough to not affect his driving and giggled as he sang out with Pope. You liked seeing this Frankie – not that big tough guy you saw at the parking lot. He seemed like he had a big heart but was scared to show it and you were determined, but you were ripped away from your internal planning when Frankie politely asked for your address.

“It’s a shame you ain’t hangin’ longer sweetheart,” Pope began. “I think you’d like being around us two mucks. You would definitely like Frankie’s mom’s cooking. She makes the best food in town.” You smiled as the two best friends bickered about whose mom had the best food.

“I would have loved to, but I have to be home and do chores before my mother gets home.”

Frankie looks over to you and gives you a reassuring smile. “It’s alright. Maybe next time, cool?” You smile at the invitation and nod. Frankie continues to drive as you and Pope make a conversation about the possibility of you tutoring him in math. With them being high school seniors, they are not failing one class.

You feel on top of the world, laughing and talking with your new friends, until you spot the yellow Pontiac in the driveway and your mother coming out of it. Your face drops and the boys immediately take notice.

“What’s wrong?” Frankie asks. You straighten out your top and ask Pope for your books as you ready yourself to run out of the car. You look at Frankie and offer a weak smile.

“My mother won’t be happy with me is all.” You’d ask Frankie to drop you off a couple of houses before your own, but you know your mother has already seen you. As Frankie pulls up to your house, the boys’ jaws drop. You wouldn’t say your house was big, but to the boys, it was huge. Your two-story home consisted of 3 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms. The exterior of the home was beige with dark brown trimming and the river rock pathway leading up to your home was lined with grass so green you’d think it was plastic.

Your mother, dressed to the nines in a pale pink dress and white belt, looks at the hot rod parked in front of her home and places her hands on her hips as she sees Frankie run out and open your door. Your mother would normally love seeing her daughter be treated by a gentleman, but she isn’t very happy to see that it’s Frankie. She has always dreamed of her daughter being courted by a young man in polished Oxford shoes and ironed pleated pants not a worn out leather jacket and dirty chucks.

You thank Frankie for the ride and look over at your upset mother. The boys say hello to her as she gives them the ungenuine smile of hers you have seen many times. You wave goodbye to both boys and begin to walk up to your mother. You hear whispers behind you and then you hear your mother say, “Is there something else you’d like to say, boy?”

You turn and you see Pope shove Frankie towards you. His face turns red as he sees your mother staring him down and he knows that this may not be the best time to ask you.

“On with it, young man. My daughter and I have work to do.”

Frankie once again runs his hand through his hair and clears his throat. “I- I, uh, I was wonderin’ if ya wanted to hang with us at Rosie’s on Friday. The shakes are pretty good so we could ma-“

“What’s your name, young man?” You look at your mother. You narrow your eyes at her for interrupting Frankie.

“It-It’s Frankie,” he stutters, “my name’s Frankie, ma’am.”

Your mother gives her less than friendly smile again. “Well, Frankie, you’ll understand where I’m coming from when I tell you this – you are not the kind of person I want my daughter befriending. You just don’t quite… how can I put this nicely? You don’t fit a mother’s standards.”

“Mother!”

“Quiet.” she tells you. “You will not be around these boys again, do you understand? Your father works too hard for you to just ruin your life like this. You asked to be taken out of the pristine private school we paid for you to go to and we allowed you to enroll in public school. Why are you bringing home some… some hoodlum! How can you do this to us?”

You wished this had surprised you, but it wasn’t the first time your mother disrespected your choice of friends. You huffed and you felt tears coming to your eyes as you saw Frankie’s defeated look in his eyes and Pope fighting the urge to get out of the car.

You mother calls your name, and you turn to look at her. She walks to you, heels clicking the pavement, and cups your jaw. “You will not associate yourself with these boys, do we understand each other?” You see Frankie nod to you and walk back to his car. You look back at your mother and nod. “Yes, Mother. I understand.” Your mother smiles at you and gives your cheek a pat. “Good girl. Now… get inside and put that skirt in the hamper. Your allowance is going towards a new skirt.”

She leads you into the house and you look back and see Frankie’s car is still there. You stop in your tracks and look at your mother. “Mother, may I please run back and grab a paper I left?”

“Is it school related?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Very well. Go grab it and say goodbye and come back in. We have to get dinner going.” You nod and run back to the car and your mother walks into the house.

Pope rolls down the passenger side window and both boys look at you. You smile at Pope and look at Frankie.

“Does Rosie’s Diner have sundaes?” Pope smirks and turns to Frankie while Frankie nods with a confused face. “Well,” you start, “If Friday’s invitation is still open, pick me up by the green house down the street at 6pm. She’ll be going to my grandmother’s house up north.”

“Sounds like a plan, doll.”

The light breeze surprises you as it picks up the more you walk down the street. You walk past two houses and you see the red backlights of the cherry red mustang you seemed to miss.

Your mother, thankfully, left to your grandmother’s home about two hours ago, much earlier than expected. She called not very long ago to make sure you were home and doing homework. You told her that you were planning to retire early as your homework began to give you a headache. She insisted you eat dinner and sleep as she didn’t want to see eyebags under your eyes when she got back tomorrow. She bid you goodnight and said she’d be home by tomorrow’s lunchtime. Once you hung the phone on the hook, you ran to your room and began to ready yourself for the night.

You grew giddy as 6 o’clock crept closer and closer. You had applied your blush and mascara so carefully you’d have thought you were dusting the finest of china. You did not want to wear too much makeup; you didn’t want to seem as though you were trying too hard. You picked out the pins out of the curls on your head you’d put up right when your mother left and watched as the soft and tight curls fell and framed your face. You grabbed your wide tooth comb and brushed the curls out, parting your side at a side so there was more hair and volume on one side. You sprayed a tight hold hairspray all over so you could make sure your hair stood – Frankie wouldn’t want to see frazzled hair, no man would, you thought.

As you went through your closet, you decided that a dress was the best choice as it was simple enough to either be dressed up or dressed down. You went with a white collared black dress with thin white windowpane patterned lines all over. You wore your black flats and added a black shiny belt running across the waist. You get closer to Frankie’s car and you see him get out of his car – you figured he had seen you coming.

“How ya doin’ there, doll?”

“Hello, Frankie.” You wave and get closer to him. Once you’re in front of him you fix his jacket lapel and look up at him. “Aren’t you sight for sworn eyes.”

His eyes widen then starts laughing loudly and your face goes red. He nearly falls in laughter as his hands catch himself on his knees. “W-What’d ya just say?”

“I said aren’t you a sight for sworn eyes,” you frown. “Is that not appropriate?”

He catches his breath and puts a hand on his belly. He reaches over and tucks your hair behind your ear with the other hand. “The saying is a sight for sore eyes, doll; not sworn eyes.”

You feel as if your face is about to burst as you start laughing at yourself. You just cannot believe you’ve messed up your first attempt at flirting with Frankie. “I was really sure it was sworn.”

He smiles brightly and shakes his head. “Hey… can’t say ya ain’t tried right?” You giggle and nod. He look you up and down and lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Te vez hermosa.” You look beautiful.

Have you ever had that feeling when there’s a puppy trying to get comfortable, but it can’t so it walks over to you and lays with you – falling into a deep and peaceful sleep? You know how it makes your heart feel as if it’s grown twice in size because the puppy chose you and trusted you to protect it while it slept? That’s how you felt when those words came out of Frankie’s mouth.

“Muchas gracias, Francisco.” Thank you very much, Francisco.

He playfully rolls his eyes at you and lets out a laugh. He points to the car and says, “get in the damn car.” He runs over to your door and lets you in, as per usual, and off you two went to Rosie’s Diner.

Frankie leads you into a bright neon-lit diner not very far from your home, about 25 minutes from your place. The diner stands out from the black concrete parking lot and pine trees decorating its background. He opens the light brown doors and places a hand on your lower back as you walk in – not too low or too high.

“Howdy’ho kiddos.” You’re greeted by a woman in her late 40’s or early 50s – the grey hair and sweet smile give it away. “Hey there, Frankie. Bandits meetin’ ya here?”

Frankie smiles at the woman, gives her a hug, and a quick kiss on the cheek; a kiss she smiles at and hums in content. “Hey Ro. Boys are comin’ in a while. You know they ain’t missin’ your special tonight.”

“There’s a special night every night for my favorite bandits, Frankie. Who’s this, huh? You finally bringin’ a girl for me to meet?” Frankie shakes his head from side to side smiling. He turns to you and introduces you to Rosie, the diner’s owner and one of his favorite people. “She’s new in town and I wanted to show her the best diner in the world.”

Rosie slaps Frankie’s arm and laughs. “Stop talkin’ sweet ‘fore your teeth rot, boy. You’re too pretty to be all gums now. I knew my boys were comin; your usual booth’s open, but take the table next to it, yeah. Ya need the extra seat ‘less you sittin’ the girl on ya lap.” Frankie begins to stutter a protest as you stifle a laugh.

“It’s very nice to meet you Miss Rosie. I’m in awe of your diner and excited to try your food.”

“Well it’s very nice to meet the girl who Frankie finally decided to bring to the diner. It’s a very special moment in his life ya know?” You cock your head to the side and take a quick glance at Frankie.

“Why’s that, Miss Rosie?”

As Rosie was about to explain the beginning of courtships of 99% of the teenagers in town, Frankie dragged you away with the dramatic excuse of being so hungry he can eat a horse and how he’ll drop dead if he doesn’t get a shake.

As you make it to the table Rosie had sent you to, you’d think that Frankie would have pulled out your chair, but a couple of some teens you remember seeing at school look in yours and Frankie’s direction whispering among themselves. You took a seat and looked at Frankie to ask if he knew them but as you were about to ask, you saw his face looking back at them with a deep stare. He gave them a single nod towards the door and to your surprise, they ran. Frankie scanned the room and he knew everyone would be taking in the scene. Frankie had never taken a girl out in public – especially not a girl like you. Sure people knew about other girls he’s been with, but everyone knew they weren’t together.

Frankie sat down after everyone in the diner turned their attention back to where it previously was and he passes you a diner menu, but still tense due to the eyes that locked with his back once more.

When the waitress you learned was named Vi and was obsessed with Will, Frankie had ordered a basket of fries for the two to share, a cherry soda for him and a sundae of your pick for you. Vi was also an older woman, best friends with Rosie, and had an innocent crush on Will’s blonde self. Frankie told you about the time Will brought Vi a bouquet of flowers for her birthday and Vi almost attacked the poor kid to the ground with kisses. Vi was sweet and she made you feel very good about yourself as she fixed your collar and fluffed your hair because “her Frankie needs to see what he’s got in front of him.”

You were nearly done with your sundae as you heard the distinctive pitch that is Benny’s voice as he said “What’s cookin’ good lookin’ don’t you look like a dream,” and wrapped an arm around your shoulder. You greet each and every one of the boys as they take their seats around the table – Benny calling dibs on one of the seats next to you. Benny puts his arm around the back rest of your white chair and calls Vi over to place a new order.

As the night continues, you feel free. You feel so relaxed and at ease with the boys around you that you don’t even notice the dirty looks some girls were giving you. Benny puts his head on your shoulder and give his cheek a little pat resulting in Benny playfully trying to bite your hand. Frankie clears his throat and Benny looks over at him and smirks.

“I ain’t trynna steal ya girl, Frankie. If she hangin’ with us, ya gotta get used to us playin ‘round.”

Frankie turns red as Benny calls you “his girl” and rolls his eyes with a chuckle. He looks out the window and immediately tenses. You follow his gaze and see a 1942 black Ford with some boys in it – one of the being that Jack guy from school – revv its engine as it speeds back and forth through the parking lot. He grabs the boys eyes and directs them towards the window and Benny stands up immediately. The boys follow suit and Frankie turns to you.

“Stay here alright, doll? We’ll be back.”

You turn from Frankie to the window and back to Frankie with a worried look painting your face. “What’s going on Frankie?”

“They shouldn’t be here. This ain-“ You both turn at the sound of a crash and see Pope being held against Frankie’s car by a guy in a black tee with its sleeves rolled. Frankie runs out of the diner and you run after him. You know you shouldn’t be getting in between this, but you aren’t going to let anyone hurt your new friends.

Frankie runs up behind this guy, turns him around, and shoves him away from his car and friends. The guy smirks and nods at Frankie. “Did you miss me Frankie?”

“What the hell are you doing here, Oberyn? We already told ya friend there that this ain’t your turf.”

You had to admit, Oberyn had this strut to him that showed his self-confidence and the combination of his flirtatious smile and smoldering eyes only made him more attractive than he already was. Jack came to stand next to him and as he turned to toss some keys over to another friend of his, you caught sight of the word VIPERS with two snakes on the back of his jacket.

“Yeah… he told me ‘bout it. But ya anna know what else Jackie told me? He told me that ya got ya’self a knockout.” Oberyn locks eyes with you and winks. He tries to walk over to you, but Frankie pushes back and away from you.

“Don’t get near her.” Oberyn lets out a sarcastic chuckle and gets in Frankie’s face.

“How ‘bout ya make me, Morales?”

The next thing you knew, you were yelling and crying with Will held you away as you saw Frankie and Oberyn duke it out on the concrete while Benny and Pope tried to pry Oberyn away – Jack and some other guy pushing them away. You caught a glimpse of Frankie’s bruising cheek and Oberyn’s bloody nose. You only noticed the officer’s arrival once Will dragged you back in the diner and making sure Rosie held you back as he ran back to be by Frankie’s side when the local sheriff gets out the car.

dreamboat taglist:

@ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @funerals-with-cake @seasonschange-butpeopledont

[dionnaea]

I hope this isn’t too specific! Kenny Ackerman meeting up with a soldier - a friend, acquaintance, or just someone who’s somehow on decent terms with him - and while chatting about what‘s been going on in their lives, the reader catches Kenny’s interest when they mention how a specific “newbie,” Levi, is already wrecking stuff and climbing the ranks. You can decide if reader’s in love with Levi or not! Thank you!

Pot Meet Kettle

pairing: kenny ackerman x reader (platonic), slight levi x reader

warnings: mild swearing, alcohol consumption

wc: 1.3k

a/n: this is definitely more focused on the relationship between kenny and y/n, so i hope that’s okay! it just turned out to be so fun to write their interactions. thanks for the request, and if you are ever interested in more of a background story for kenny and y/n, i’d be totally down! 

anon! i’d love to hear your thoughts! <3

attack on titan masterlist  |  general masterlist

Yeah, sure, it wasn’t very ladylike to get in a bar fight at 3 p.m. on a Sunday afternoon in the middle of a wealthy district, but the guy deserved the punch you threw. As soon as he made the choice to place a dirty hand on your ass and squeeze, it was over for him. 

As soon as you felt the foreign touch, you reeled around, arm thrown back. Your back heel lifted as you pivoted, rotating your torso and moving your arm forward, calling on your years of Survey Corps training. A punch was second nature to you. When a resounding crack echoed throughout the room, you knew you had broken his jaw. You returned to a neutral position, crossing your arms over your chest to hide your reddening knuckles, and gave the guy a sickly sweet grin. He hesitantly met your eyes, cupping his already bruising and swollen jaw with one hand. Your expression was an unspoken threat, and the guy quickly cowered away, throwing a few coins on the counter and scurrying out of the bar. You rolled your eyes with a sigh, swinging around to head towards the seat at the counter you had originally been approaching. 

“Y/N.” 

You would recognize that deep, lazy drawl anywhere. 

His hat shaded his eyes, one foot kicked up onto the table with a complete disregard for general hygiene or respect, the spur on his heel digging into, and subsequently scratching, the worn out wood. His laid back posture presented no threat, but you knew anyone else would be terrified to approach him. Heck, even the barmaid looked nervous as she set his whiskey down in front of him. You, on the other hand, felt no fear towards the man, and gave him a bright grin, making your way over to his table. 

“Kenny! It’s been too long, my friend,” you expressed, pulling out the chair across from him with your foot and taking a seat, placing an order with the server on your way. “What’re you doing in these parts?” It was curious to see an underground rogue like himself up top, especially in the inner districts. 

“Nothing too interesting,” he replied, obviously being vague on purpose. “What about you? A Survey Corps Squad Leader in Wall Sina? Must be something going on.”

“Nothing too interesting,” you shot back. You knew it was unwise to reveal Survey Corps information to a man like Kenny Ackerman, especially anything classified. He chuckled, tilting his head back so that you could finally see his eyes. They were a piercing grey, and happened to remind you of a fresh recruit. Your drink was placed on the table, and you took a sip, enjoying the burn of the alcohol and waiting for Kenny to speak. 

“As mysterious as ever, Y/N. You never change.” He was joking with you, and you laughed.

“That’s the pot calling the kettle black. Can’t ask for information without giving some in return, not even for an old friend like you.” You weren’t proud of it, but on occasion, you had served as an informant for the man. Just small things about the Corps here and there to help him with his own business. Nothing that would hurt anyone involved… you were pretty sure, at least. 

He nodded in agreement, and took a large swig of his drink. “Here’s what I can tell you, then,” he started, and you leaned forward a bit, interest piqued. “The nobility is getting restless when it comes to the Corp. There’s a chance you might be shut down.”

You blinked before frowning. “That’s always the case, though, isn’t it? No one is ever happy with our work.” It was true: the Survey Corps was never really appreciated, and there were often murmurs of it being dissolved. 

“They’ve approached the royal court about it, Y/N. It’s more serious than you think.” That had never happened before, and you worried the inside of your lip. “They want results from your next expedition.” 

Your whole body language changed as a smirk grew on your face, and you leaned back into your seat. “Oh, they’ll get ‘em.” Kenny hummed as a sign for you to continue. “We’ve got this new recruit, you see. Terrible attitude, listens to no one, not even his superiors, and takes absolutely no shit from anyone.” You paused. When you next spoke, your voice was lower. “...Best fighter I’ve ever seen, though. Handles the swords like they’re an extension of his body, and maneuvers like he was born to fly. Never seen anything like it.” You shook your head, thinking back to the young man. He had quickly beaten almost everyone in the Corps in hand-to-hand combat and practice stats, and was flying up the ranks. A prodigy at it’s finest. 

Kenny moved his leg off of the table slowly, and removed his hat, revealing his rugged features. You had never seen such an expression of interest on his face before. “What’s his name?” He asked.

“Levi,” you responded, and missed the way Kenny’s eyebrows rose slightly. “Short little bastard. Barely 5’3”. If you can get past that, though, he’s a looker. Thick, dark hair, tired eyes, chiseled jawline. I’m definitely not complaining when we spar.” You chuckled, half joking and half serious. 

Kenny finished off his drink with one large gulp. “Sounds like you got a crush, kitten.” 

You rolled your eyes at the nickname. Only he could get away with calling you that, and he knew it. “Nah. Just a fascination at this point,” you admitted. You really were fascinated by Levi; you had never seen a man like him before. He exuded an energy you could never quite place your finger on. “He’s apathetic as hell, not one for a relationship. Also, I’m pretty sure he has daddy issues, and I can’t deal with that.” 

Kenny shrugged, a slight smirk accompanying it. “You’ve always liked a challenge. Dear ol’ Y/N, repairing the broken-hearted.” He placed a hand over his heart, and you let out a breathy laugh at his dramatics. As far as you knew, he only behaved this way around you, and you were thankful he trusted you after years of getting to know him. 

“You only say that ‘cause I fixed your broken heart. I don’t do that for just anyone, y’know.” You gave him a small, genuine smile, and his lips curled up in return, dropping his hand from his chest to grab his hat. 

“Yeah, I know,” he responded. He stood up, tossing a few bills on the table. “Your drink’s on me. See ya ‘round, kitten.” He placed his hat on his head with practiced ease, tipping it in your direction. 

You brought two fingers up to your right temple, brushing them out towards him in a playful salute. “Farewell, my friend. Don’t go getting into too much trouble.” 

“Hah,” he scoffed. “You’re the last person allowed to tell me that.” You waved him off with a knowing grin. Straightening his hat once more, he said, “Right back atcha. Next time I see you, I better not be getting news I’m an uncle to some Levi Jr.” 

You flicked him your middle finger. “Screw you, Kenny. Go back to your cowboy fantasies.” It was completely a jest, just as his comment was, and he let out a guffaw. 

“I’m going,” he told you, the last of his laughs dying out. “Stay safe.” He was serious now, his words holding a weight that hung dreadfully in the air. 

“You, too,” you replied, the same heaviness in your own words. At that, Kenny turned and headed towards the exit. The last thing you heard was the clicking of his spurs against his heels and the closing of the door, marking the end of yet another pleasant conversation between friends.

[ffakc]

Puppy Love - a Jeffrey Dean Morgan fanfiction

@negans-attagirl @iluvneganandjamie @happysgal

It was a partly cloudy, brisk spring day. It was just warm enough to go without a jacket here in upstate New York. Jeff and I had planned the perfect day date on his property. We have been together about seven months now and life couldn’t be more perfect. I had just finished up packing our Mediterranean inspired spread. I snapped a quick photo and sent it to my Jeffrey.

“Italian subs, Greek pasta salad, roasted red pepper hummus with pita bread, baklava, and tiramisu. Anything else? I’ll see you soon!”

“Stomach’s growling already. I’ll be out back, just let yourself in. Xxx.”

I shoved some toiletries and comfortable clothes in my overnight bag. I snapped the picnic basket shut and headed to my car. Any time I thought about my Jeffrey, my whole body buzzed with excitement. I felt like pinching myself, Jeff was my dream come true. He was everything I ever wanted and needed.

I pulled up to Jeff’s farmhouse. His front door was unlocked like he said it would be. Honey’s “woo-woo-woo!” adorable howl-bark echoed through the house.

“Hi, Honey! Where’s Daddy?” I ask her and ruffle her scraggly ears, her teddy bear like eyes closing in bliss. She scampered to the back door and I follow her to the massive pastures. Jeff was tossing hay over the fence to the donkeys.

“Paxton, buddy! Leave some for the rest of them! Good lord, you pig!” Jeff laughs and turns to me. “Hey, baby!” I set the picnic basket down and fling my arms around his neck with a kiss.

“I’ve missed you,” I rest my forehead against his.

“I’ve missed you more, doll. I’ve also missed your cooking, sweet girl,” Jeff smiles. He looked so damn good in his farming clothes, redefining the phrase “ruggedly handsome” with his cuffed flannel and salt and pepper scruff. His top buttons were undone, exposing his masculine chest hair and the few necklaces he wore daily. Bandit came bounding over and jumped between us.

“Hey, boy!” I laugh.

“Someone doesn’t like me getting all the attention!” Jeff exclaims. “I can’t get a hug from my girlfriend? Rude!” he teases the fluffy monster. “Do you see that huge tree over yonder?”

“It’s beautiful,” I reply, clutching the basket so the dogs don’t get a snack.

“That’s the spot,” Jeff takes me by the hand and we make our way across the property. The alpacas stared at us intensely.

“Are they going to spit on me?” I joke.

“I told them to stay on their best behavior because we had a guest coming!” Jeff gestured to the checkered blanket he had laid out and ice bucket with a bottle of sparkling wine and two glasses. He opens up the basket and cracks open the hummus, dipping his finger in and licking it.

“At least grab some bread, you animal,” I playfully punch his shoulder, ripping off a piece of pita and dunking it in the rust orange colored deliciousness.

“Sorry, Mom,” Jeff jokes. “Wow! Is that homemade?” I nod. “Delicious, absolutely delicious. Ooh, I like the little bite to it!” I take the sandwiches out of the wax paper. “Ah, ah, ah! Go on! Get!” Jeff scolds and shoos the dogs away. “You’d think I never feed them or something!”

“I don’t mean to brag, but I made the pesto mayo on these sandwiches too,” I say, sipping my wine. I take a bite of the chilled, tangy pasta salad.

Jeff sinks his teeth into the sub. “Baby, that’s so fucking good,” he rolls his eyes back in pleasure with a mouthful of food. I kiss his cheek sweetly. “God, you sure know how to treat your Daddy right. I don’t deserve you, you know that? You’re too damn good for me, sweetheart.”

“Oh hush,” I kiss my boyfriend. He closes his eyes and deepens the kiss, running his fingers through my hair. Jeff’s eyes shoot open at the sound of Bandit barking loudly.

“Hey guys!” Jeff calls out to the puppies. “Those aren’t dogs, they’ll kick the shit out of you!” they weave in and out of the alpacas’ legs. We eat our meal and laugh as they pant wildly and chase each other all over. I pack everything neatly back into the picnic basket. Dark clouds begin forming in the distance.

“I admire their energy!” I remark, rubbing Jeff’s knee and finishing off my drink.

“I know, right? My ‘get up and go’ got up and went years ago! I swear, the moment I hit forty, my body sounds like Rice Krispies when I get out of bed,” Jeff chuckles and kisses my forehead.

“What are you, eighty?” I tease.

“Hey, you’ll get there someday, youngin! You agreed to date an old fogey! Shit, I feel a few raindrops, maybe we should head inside. But first,” Jeff rises to his feet and suddenly pulls out a pocket knife.

“What are you doing?” I stare at him, puzzled.

“You’ll see,” Jeff says. He carves into the tree. “Ah, there we go.” There was a heart with our initials in it. Three magic words escaped his lips, “I love you.”

“Jeffrey,” I sigh as thunder rolls above my head. That was the first time either of us had said that and it felt so... right. I stand up and wrap my arms around Jeff’s neck, his cowboy boots making him tower over me. He places his cowboy hat on my head with a grin. “I love you too.” The rain suddenly began pouring down.

“I’ve always wanted to do this. Kiss me in the rain, pretty girl,” Jeff pulls me against him as our clothes get soaked. My heart flutters in my chest. I never wanted to let him go. He picks me up and I wrap my legs around his waist. Jeffrey made my life feel like a cheesy romantic movie and I loved every single minute of it. A crack of thunder scares the dogs away and Jeff sets me down.

“I think that’s our cue to go inside,” I chuckle. Jeff grabs the picnic basket and extends his hand.

“Run!” he shouts as if we were in an action movie and laughs. He takes me by the hand and we trample through the mud to the farmhouse. The dogs shake and run around the living room. I hang Jeff’s hat on a hook by the door and he drops the picnic basket on the counter. He takes me into his arms and kisses me deeply.

“I love you, I love you. God damn it, I fucking love you,” Jeff whispers against my lips. I run my fingers through his sopping wet hair. “I used to think ‘love at first sight’ was a myth before I met you. If I don’t get to put a ring on that finger of yours, I don’t even want to get married, baby girl.”

“I can’t wait for that day. I love you too,” I sigh longingly, looking into Jeff hazel eyes. I press my lips to his and push him against the kitchen counter, a groan escaping his lips as I rub myself against the crotch of his pants.

“Mmm, going to make me make a mess in these jeans like a teenager,” he chuckles, “God, I want you so bad,” he begins removing his belt.

“Take me, Jeff,” I whimper. Jeff pulls my skinny jeans down aggressively and bends me over the counter. Thunder rolls outside as the cold granite against my stomach gives me chills.

“Look at these lacy black panties,” Jeff growls, “Someone knew Daddy would be fucking her good.” His words instantly make me even more aroused. Jeff’s slender fingers slide over my outer lips, slowly brushing over my clit, “So wet and I’ve hardly touched you. That’s my good girl.” I whine as Jeff slides in with a gasp. He grabs my hair with one hand as his thrusts start gentle and rhythmic. “Oh god, baby doll. You feel so good.”

“Right there, Daddy,” I moan. My older man knows just the right spots to hit.

“That’s it, baby. Take all of me,” Jeff groans as he goes deeper. He pulls my hair and rasps in my ear, “Whose pussy is this?”

“Yours,” I can barely speak, my legs are shaking.

“I can’t fuckin’ hear you, sugar,” he nibbles my neck as sexy smacking sounds fill my ears. “Whose pussy is this?” Jeff moans a little louder.

“Yours, Jeff!” I exclaim. “My body belongs to you, Jeffrey! Oh god, fuck me!” I gasp.

“I love when you beg for me,” Jeff remarks. “I’m so close already, sweetheart. I love you so much.”

“I love you,” I reply. He flips me over as the lights flicker with a loud crash of thunder.

“Look at me,” Jeff cups my cheek and kisses me. “Oh Princess, you’re beautiful,” he gasps. “I’m going to- oh sweet Jesus, baby doll!” a deep growl resonates in his chest as he finishes deep inside me. I whimper as my nether regions throb, leaking with Jeffrey’s hot, sticky juices. “You’re mine,” he smirks.

“And you’re mine,” I pant, scratching his gray beard as he rests his forehead against mine. I scan over Jeff’s gorgeous face, everything about this man was absolutely beautiful. He peels me off the counter and his lips crash into mine.

“Forever and always, my gal,” Jeff sighs lovingly.

[obsessive-ego]

Pest of the west

Toonjuice x reader

Warning cringe

Gender neutral pronouns, pregnancy is mentioned once, also reader is forced to wear a dress

A shameless episode rewrite, swapping lydia for y/n and making it into a reader insert, I can not stress this enough, I just rewrote the episode to fit what I wanted, If this goes over well i might do more episode rewrites

Toonjuice takes you to the old west to goof off, and shit gets bad when an out law named bully the crud falls in love with you

"Come to the netherworld he said, it'll be fun he said, we'll go to the old west, you could use a good time, god" you grumbled to yourself, here you were handcuffed, wearing the ugliest, largest wedding dress you've ever seen in your life, hell, the size of the dress was the second reason stopping you from running from this cruel fate, the first being the groom. Not only were you handcuffed, your soon to be husband had a vice grip on your arm, a giant bull of a monster, Bully the Crud, you had no idea why this bastard wanted you, or why beetlejuice, scared out of his wits, left you to fend for yourself, all you did know was that you were screwed.

...

Finally friday, it's been a long rough work week, between overtime, and unreliable coworkers, and your bastard of a boss using you as a punching bag, you were beat.

Home again, you toss your bag and coat on the couch as you pass the living room, your apartment was small and quiet. You head to your room to finally change out of these work clothes.

Passing the full length mirror in your room, out of the corner of your eye you notice the reflection wasn't yours.

"Hey BJ" you say casually, not bothering to look his way as you dug around your dresser for something more comfortable.

"Its about time you finally came around babes"

"Yeah, overtime again" you sigh

"Gross"

"Tell me about it mr I dont have a job" you laugh, turning to the mirror to see that beetlejuice was gone.

"Huh" you mumble scooping up your change of clothes "guess he had things to do?" You mumble.

Just then, you jump as the television in your bedroom turns on, loud static noises buzz from the speakers before an image settles on screen.

"Beetlejuice ?"

Your television lights up showing a desert like scenery, with cactus, and wired fences, and there was beetlejuice, dressed in cowboy attire

"Thats my name, and cow poking is my game,Are you tired of the same old same old boring modern breather life style?"

"Yeah" you chuckle

"Are ya in desperate need for a change of pace? Then mosey on down to the nether world's wild west rude ranch, conveniently located in tombstone scareizona"

"Theres a wild west in the netherworld? Like cowboys and stuff?" The ghoul had your full attention now, maybe sometime goofing off in the netherworld could do you some good, and the wild west would seem like something new and fun,

"Cowboys, cowghouls, just spout those magic b words and we'll be ghost town bound"

what's the worst that could happen?

"Beetlejuice beetlejuice beetlejuice!" You shout in a hurry, and in a flash you were gone.

And there you were in the scenery you saw on your television, sand, cactus, cow skulls, all the cliches of an old west movie. Your work clothes now replaced with more appropriate attire, a black cowboy hat, with a matching vest, a soft blue coloured puffy sleeved shirt, with a dusty blue neckerchief, black pants, with a big belt, and some big black boots, you look liked you walked out of freddy pharkas frontier pharmacist, but appreciated the wardrobe change, your clothes always changed when beetlejuice dragged you into the netherworld, you were used to it by now.

"Beetlejuice?" You look around, the ghost was no where to be seen

"Oh bury me~ on the lone prairie~"

The ground next to you shakes before beetlejuice unearths himself "welcome to the netherwest babes! I'm your ghost host with the most, should you have any questions, I'll be sure awnser them, as obscurely as possible" the ghoul proudly proclaims as he struts away from the grave he pulled himself out of.

"So this is the netherwest, it looks fun"

"Of course babes, it has everything an old west motife should have, sun, sand, more cliches then you can shake a stick at" the ghost hollers shaking a stick at a cow skull

"Sounds like a blast beej" you grab his arm eager to see the sights.

"And dont you worry toots, if you're fretting on being bush wacked by bad guys, you're fretting for nothing"

"Oh? You some kind of old west hero?" You asked amused by his sudden confidence

"You kidding babes? Nobody messes with the pest of the west, I'll show ya what I mean later" he cackles leading you into town

"Pest is right" you chuckle

...

The two of you were having a blast, beetlejuice eagerly showing you the sights, dragging you around town, the two of you laughing and carrying on, you really needed this after such a shitty work week, you could always rely on beetlejuice to change your mood for the better.

It was all fun and games until your ghost with the most got kicked by a horse into a trough of dirty water. You were trying not to laugh at him as you helped him out.

"This has got to be the closest thing I've taken ta a bath in months" he grumbled

"Its surely an improvement" you laugh, hoisting you friend out of the water

"Excuse me, allow me to introduce myself" an unfamiliar voice interrupts the two of you, standing in front of you was a man shaped like a dartboard and a tiny purple guy who's shirt was way too long for him.

"Howdy there stranger, The name's casualty, hop along casualty, I'm the mayor of this here tombstone and this is fester, we all in the market for a new sheriff, know anybody whod be intrested in such a noble and HIGH paying job?"

"What-" was all you manged to get out, before beetlejuice perked up

"DO I? Look no further, I am the slob for the job!" Beetlejuice lunges forward eager to shake the mayor's hand, before you pull him back

"Uh beej? You a law man? Do you even know any laws?"

"Dont rob people"

"I set the bar too low, werent we just here to have fun? Besides sheriff? That's alot of hard work" the ghoul's one weakness, maybe the mentioning of work would be enough for him to decline and the two of you could go back to goofing off.

"WORK?! YUCK!" Beetlejuice shouts, you smile, theres the ghost you know and love more then you're willing to admit.

"Maybe the breather is right, maybe the job would be too much for this tender foot to handle" casualty loudly proclaims as he and his sidekick walk away

"TENDER FOOT!?"

Great, now they had him, beetlejuice was always a sucker for reverse psychology.

Beetlejuice proceeds to 'show off' his so called slime shooting skills, saying he could shoot his hat before it touched the ground.

The hat went up into the air and beetlejuice went trigger happy, the ghost hit everything BUT the hat, you were smart enough to take cover, the ghost proved in a matter of seconds slime shooting was something he had to cross out on his resume, as he proceeded to cover the towns folk in slime.

But yet the mayor was still eager to hire him.

"Beetlejuice come on, no offense, but you are the worst guy for the job, you lie, cheat, steal, hell you're wanted in 5 different states, plus we just got here, why would anyone want you to be sheriff? Theres got to be something wrong" you pleaded with him, your words fell of deaf ears, beetlejuice was too excited with all the glory that came with his new title.

"Beetlejuice, I wouldnt do this if I were you-" you try again only to be shoved aside by the mayor, who was more the ready to slap that star shaped badge on Beetlejuice's chest.

"Congratulations son, you're exactly what were looking for!"

"This us a joke right?" You groaned

The mayor dragged beetlejuice to the group of townsfolk who gathered in the street to see what all the commotion was about

"Attention yall, I'd like ya to meet out new sheriff"

The crowd cheered and beetlejuice drank in all the attention and praise, while you just stood there trying to put two and two together

"Oh, I forgot to mention, bully the crud will be here at high noon" the mayor starts

"And hes gonna do terrible, horrible things to you-" fester continues

"Great" you grumble, there it was, so much for a fun time.

A bell gong rings through the town, and in a matter of seconds the towns folk were gone, leaving only you and beetlejuice standing in the middle of the street, you pull your phone out of your pocket, though you had no service, it still worked like a clock, time in the netherworld worked differently, though it was evening when you left, it was day time when you arrived, your phone always acted accordingly, weird, but you werent complaining.

"Noon" you say in a whisper, you stomach now turning with dread, what did beetlejuice just sign up for?

The ground rumbles and you grab the ghoul's arm out of nervousness and in a sandstorm cloud of dust a pig pulled carriage charges into tombstone, making a hasty hault in front of the two of you. The door swings open and there stands what you can assume is bully the crud, a big bull of a man, snarling and staring down the two of you.

"I'm looking for trouble" he growls

Beetlejuice snorts "never met 'em, you know anyone by that name babes?" The ghoul gives you a nudge, you shake your head

"That ain't what I ment, that was a figure of speech! Which one of the two of you are the sheriff?!"

You clamp your mouth shut, you werent gonna rat out your friend or take the blame, beetlejuice did the same

Bully huffs through his nose before grabbing you by your neckerchief

"You better spill-" in the rough movement of grabbing you, your hat got knocked off, your eyes no longer hidden in shadow.

"You better, better- why, arent you a pretty little thing" bully sets you down, and hands you your hat "why you ring my bell little meadow muffin, hows 'bout you give ol'bully a kiss" you cringe at his change in mood and utter out a "what?" More confused then anything else, not to mentioned disgusted

Beetlejuice quickly pulls you away, a tad angry over how this over grown hamburger was now hitting on you, HIS best friend.

"I'm the sheriff round these parts, and this here is my deputy" the ghoul snatches your hat from you hands a roughly puts it back on your head

"I never agreed to that" you grumble adjusting your hat.

"YOU'RE THE NEW SHERIFF?!" the bull bellowed, followed by a fit of laughter

"And who might you be?" Beetlejuice puffed out his chest squaring up to the monster

"I'm bully the crud, the meanest ombre that ever licked a law man" he shouted

"Ya know you look alot bigger then your eight by tens, were you sick on picture day?" Beetlejuice laughs pulling a photo from his pocket

"Enough small talk, I came to run you outta town and that's what I aim ta do" the bully snorts

"Alright bully, make your move" beetlejuice snorts reaching for his slime shooter

In a matter of second the monster grabs beetlejuice with one hand, tightly wrapped about his gut, squeezing the afterlife out of him

"Nice move" beetlejuice croaks

"Wait!" You shout, dead or not that's got to hurt

Bully drops beetlejuice, his attention now on you

"Sweet little meadow muffin, ya change your tune about giving ol' bully that kiss?" He coos, quickly making his way infront you amd grabbing your hands, his voice was much less harsh when addressing you, it was nauseating

"Ugh" you flinch, youd prefer the same hostility he's shown beetlejuice over this 'sweet' side in a heart beat

As disgusted as you were, this little exchange, it was enough of a distraction to get beetlejuice back on his feet.

In a flash your ghost host with the most pulls you away from the Bull's grasp

"Back off bovine breath" he snorts jabbing bully in chest "I hope you dont mind me asking, but what's your BEEF with this town anyway? Cuz we'd kinda like ya to just MOO-ve along" with each cow related joke beetlejuice pushed bully back away from you, you bit your tongue, trying not to laugh, despite Beetlejuice's confidence, you werent too sure how dangerous this guy really was, and besides, beej was doing enough laughing for the both of you.

You remained silent watching beetlejuice roll on the floor laughing at his own jokes, that is until Bully has had enough of the ghoul's shenanigans and snaps and screams

"NOBODY MAKES A LAUGHING STOCK OUT OF BULLY THE CRUD!"

Beetlejuice hops back to his feet and laughs

"Beej, I think you should get serious here" you urge, yes you know beetlejuice was a powerful ghost, but he was also a dumbass.

He snorts "come on babes, you worry to much, this over sized hamburger is all bark and no bite, ya know what I mean?" Beetlejuice gives you a half hearted shrug, turning away from Bully.

Of course beetlejuice wasnt as freaked out as you were, he wasnt the one getting kissy faces from a cow.

"Relax babes, remember what I told ya earlier? Nobody messes with the pest of the west-!?" Beetlejuice freezes, while he spent his time ignoring bully and flapping his gums at you, the bull took his opportunity and painted a large yellow stripe on Beetlejuice's back.

"THE SHERIFF GOT A YELLOW STREAK DOWN HIS BACK!" A voice screams

were the towns folk watching this whole mess?

"You calling me a chicken?!" Beetlejuice screams back

"Boo" bully leans into him and whispers him Beetlejuice's ear

And that was all it took to turn your friend into a giant yellow chicken

Beetlejuice scrambled and clucked away from bully, hopping on the nearest horse and riding put of town.

You were in utter disbelief, he left you behind

"Fuck" was all you could say watching your friend ride out of view, you were now screwed.

You were pulled from the spot and hoisted up into bully's arms

"Now that I ran sheriff stinko out of town, let's have us a wedding♡"

"I just have one question for you"

"Well sure there honey"

"What's the capital on Thailand?"

"What?"

"Its Bangkok!" You shout slamming the heel of your boot into bully's crotch

Bully drops you and screams, you quickly scramble away thankful that stupid joke worked.

Your freedom was shortly lived, you didnt get far, no building would let you in, citizens too frightened to what Bully might do to them if they were caught harboring someone he wanted, which was fair in a sense.

Bully pulls you back into his arms and laughs "you should be more careful there my little meadow muffin, you dont wanna damage the family jewels, we're gonna need em"

Beetlejuice wherever you are please come back.

As you were being prepared/forced to marry a literal monster beetlejuice was in the middle of the desert not too worried about you, back to his old abnormal self, arguing with a horse

"So your not gonna head back to tombstone? What about your friend?"

"Y/n? They're fine, they're the toughest living thing I've ever had the privilege to scare" he waves his horse off, despite all the teasing the ghoul gave you he held a very high opinion of you and just assumes you could take on bully no problem. "They could take on a while herd of Bully the cruds, no sweat"

....

"Y/n's sure taking their sweet time, I'm beginning to worry"

"I told ya, bully the crud is one tough side of beef, do you have any idea what's gonna happen to your little friend if you dont run him outta town?" The horse nags

Beetlejuice snorts "yeah, like I can see the future-" in a flash Beetlejuice's cowboy attire was replaced with to resemble swami, with a big crystal ball nestled in his lap

The ghoul snorts out a laugh

"Now let's see if I can get a clear picture on this thing" beetlejuice focuses on the orb and what he sees makes his stomach turn, not only did you fail on rescuing yourself from his mess, you were forced into marriage with that monster, your living status was now gone, barefoot and pregnant, all because of him.

"Y/N! SAY IT AIN'T SO! Y/N AND BULLY ARE GONNA GET HITCHED!"

...

So here you were, hand cuffed, gagged, in the ugliest puffy dress you ever seen, standing before a minister with you future husband who had a vice grip on you and no way out, you were trapped, you couldnt run, you could barely speak, every objection from your mouth was quickly muffled by Bullys sweaty hands to the point the bull gagged you to make things easier for this mess of a ceremony, if you could manage a few words you would have said the B word 3 times before this got this far. Your time was running out, and your Hope's of beetlejuice coming to save you were getting slimmer by the second.

"We are gathered here today to join these two in matrimony, be there any man, or beast" the father gesturing to the side of the church filled with what you could only assume is  Bullys extended family. "Who feels that this here wedding should not take place, let them hold up their hand, or hove, or forever hold their cud" the minister laughs nervously

This was it, you were doomed, there was nothing you could do, you stood there staring forward, utterly lost in despair.

"GET ON WITH IT!" Bully bellows tugging you in closer, this had to be a nightmare right? Any second your alarm would go off right?

"That's it! The only thing left to say is, I now pronounce you cow and-!"

"HOLD IT RIGHT THERE PARSON! I OBJECT!"

You whip your head around, knowing that voice anywhere, there he was, standing that the entrance of the hall, rushing towards you.

"This lil' thing is spoken for" beej spats before pulling you away from Bully, with a snap of the ghoul's fingers your restraints vanish, with your new found freedom you were quick to embrace him, silently thanking the stars he came back in the nic of time.

"How dare you try and marry MY fiance!"

"What?" You mumble

"Your fiance?! They ain't got a ring to prove that!"

"Oh?~" Beetlejuice grabs your wrist and shoves your hand in Bully's face, "then what's this?" Placed upon your middle finger was a very large, very tacky, bright green jewel on a black and white striped band, a ring that sure wasnt their 2 minutes ago.

"I-?!" The bully stutters

"You didnt notice? were you too busy forcing my little cockroach into this mess you couldnt be asked to see if they've been already spoken for, I bet you wouldnt listen to a word they said" each word the ghoul spoke he would jab the bull in the chest, he was really laying on the country twang, you couldnt help bit crack a smile knowing the danger of you being married to that monster was gone, not to mention Beetlejuice saying you were his fiance.

This mirth was short lived though, as Bully had had enough of Beetlejuice's shenanigans, with a snarl and a bellowing howl

"NOBODY CUTS OFF MY NUPTIALS  AND GETS AWAY WITH! ITS TIME WE SETTLE THIS ONCE AND FOR ALL!"

"Yeah"

"AND THAT MEANS ONLY ONE THING"

"Name it"

"SLIMESHOOTERS AT 60 PACES"

"YOU GOT IT!"

Bully stomps out of the church to get ready for the dual

Beetlejuice quickly pulls you aside

"Alright babes, let's get out of here, just say those magic b words and we can amscray" he whispers to you

"We cant"

"right- WHAT?! WHY?! - I mean why? Cat got your tongue? Suddenly lost your voice? Or, oh no, dont tell me ya changed your mind and ACTUALLY WANT TO MARRY THAT CHUMP??" The ghoul grabs you shoulders and shakes you, as if to knock some sense into you

You brush his hands away "no, Beetlejuice, we cant leave, if we leave Bully is gonna destroy this town and everyone in it, I cant live with that on my shoulders" despite the fact that you hung around with a professional con man, you yourself were honest and kind, and to be the cause of such misery, you could never forgive yourself.

"Like I'm gonna lose sleep over that-" he grumbles

"Please beetlejuice, I'm asking you as a friend, and after you ditching me, I think you owe me" you gesture to the awful dress you were forced in, not to mention how if he was seconds late you could have been hitched to a literal monster.

"Fine" he grumbles

"Besides you're dead, what do you have to lose?"

Beetlejuice groans

"Also Can I ask one more thing of you Beej? Can you get me out of this dress?" You tug at the tooling, you could barely move and the fabric was quite itchy.

"Y/n! In front of so many people, and in a church! If you insist" the ghoul gingerly reaches for the the zipper on your dress before you swat his hand away, clearly embarrassed

"I ment with magic" you sigh not really in the mood for games

"Right, I knew that, just messing with ya" he chuckles sheepishly, with another snap you were back in your cowboy attire

"Thank you, now, what about bully?" You sneer

"Bully's got a date with the sheriff"

"No, we can beat him together" you give the ghoul a light punch in the arm, still alittle sore he left you behind.

...

Like any other western movie cliche, beetlejuice and bully square off in the center of town

"Please for the love of god cheat" you grumble watching this soon to be mess from the sidelines.

"That would be ideal, your friend there couldnt hit the ground with his hat" the mayor buts in to your mutterings

"But I think I have something dumb eniugh it might just work-" you muse before running off.

"This is it bully, it's time to separate the men from the bulls, theres no tomorrow, it's now or never, the cheese stands alone!"

"Quit staling and draw!" Bully sneers, absolutely fed up with Beetlejuice's nonsense.

"Draw? I'm a little rusty, but I'll give it a go" beetlejuice snorts swapping his cowboy hat for a beret, pulling a canvas and isle out of nowhere

"Now I'm gonna need ya to keep that pose for the next few hours-"

Bully screams in frustration, ripping the canvas away from Beej and slamming it over head

Beetlejuice unfazed snorts "I really get into my work"

"I'm gonna give you one last chance to draw beelejerk, or else I'm gonna start without ya, NOW DRAW!"

Beetlejuice swallows the lump in his throat "I guess this is it, theres no turning back now"

"Hold it!"

"Y/n!" Beetlejuice shouts, glad to see you

"Hey Bully I've change my mind about marrying you!" You shout

"WHAT!? Babes have you lost your mind?!"

"You have?! Oh honey I'd knew youd come around♡"

You run into the center of the action and with Bully distracted, you toss beetlejuice a different pistol

"Shoot!" You shout

"OH!" Beetlejuice fumbles with the gun before taking clear aim and firing, but instead of slime, a red sauce came out, covering bully, you let out a sigh you didnt know you were holding, the fact that beetlejuice ACTUALLY hit bully was nothing other then luck.

"Huh?! BARBEQUE SAUCE?! GET IT OFF OF ME" Bully screams

"I dont know about you babes but I could eat" beetlejuice growls scraping a knife and fork together.

Bully scared for his afterlife screams and scrambles out of tombstone, off into the sunset and out of sight.

"Thank god" you sigh, absolutely physically and emotionally exhausted

"We did it babes!" Beetlejuice pulls you into a side hug

"Yeah" you chuckle

"Sheriff we cant thank you enough" the mayor shakes Beetlejuice's hand

"Yup, bully the crud wont be bothering this town anymore, so long as you keep plenty of barbeque sauce on hand, but alas it's about time I hung up the old slimeshooters" beetlejuice sighs

The mayor of tombstone drops to the ground and hugs Beetlejuice's knees "NO! dont quit, is it because of me, because I got you ti take the job with trickery, dishonesty, and deceit?"

Beetlejuice snorts out a laugh "heck no  I like that in a guy, but no, I'm hanging up my guns for personal reasons, all this mud are ruining my boots"

The mayor sighs "we lose alot of them that way..."

"We should get going Beej" you finally interrupt, desperate to get home and rest

"So babes, how's bout a thank you for your hero huh~?" Beetlejuice  leans into you wiggling his eyebrows

"A 'thank you' to the guy who's fault I almost married to cow?" You snort out a laugh

"I came back in the nic of time didnt I? Come on, come on, come on~" the ghoul teases nudging his elbow into your arm.

You yank beetlejuice by his neckerchief pulling him close to your level, that was enough to get him to shut his mouth, and in an instant you give him a quick, soft kiss on his cheek.

Letting him go, he remains stunned, you give the ghoul a light punch in the arm

"Come on beetlejuice, let's go home"

"Right!"

It was odd, everytime you've shown beej kindness or compassion, he would always go off saying it was 'gross' but this time that wasnt that case, he remained silent, which after the day you had, you were fine with that.

Bonus

To be honest you were exhausted, between a rough work week, and that whole emotional nearly married to a monster thing, you nearly passed out when you returned home.

But now all that was behind you and you were home again, safe and unwed.

In the netherworld, the ghoul who dragged you into the situation/ saved you, was laying awake in his bed, hand gingerly placed upon the cheek you so quickly kissed.

Yes beetlejuice has kissed you multiple times, but as a joke, sort of, but this? You kissing him? With genuine feeling?

"Gross" was all he could utter, hand still holding the spot where your lips met his cold face.

[echo-three-one]

The Bounty Hunter - Part 2

A man in a new town. On the hunt for the most elusive fugitive of all time. Watch him discover more about the town and the general mess his assignment brought him.

Trigger Warnings : Implied sex, violence and such. This is the Wild wild west, what would you expect?

Also leave a comment in the tags if you enjoy it. I swear, It fuels me to keep writing.

Part 1 /Part 2/ Part 3

Part 2 - Karim, Night Raids and Red Flannels

Alex had no other plans for the rest of the day so he decided to lean on at the back of the Saloon to smoke, to ease off the tension he's feeling. Barkov is going to be one of the hardest hunts he's assigned to and the solid lead from the mohawked bartender felt particularly right. He tried to conceal the feeling of nervousness as he inhaled the cigar, and released a puff of smoke in the air.

Tomorrow, he's going to check out the abandoned mines. A few days of planning would soon follow as he would soon face his greatest adversary yet.

"Hey." The same intimidating familiar voice from back inside the saloon called. Alex took another huff of his cigar and tossed it on the ground, stomping on it.

The woman, known as Karim, stopped in front of him, her arms rested on her hips. Alex took off his hat and nodded to her.

"Howdy." He said, smoke plumed from his mouth.

"Listen, new guy. I don't know who you are or what you're doing here. But I'm getting a strong feeling from you that you're trouble. So before you attempt to do anything, I'm just saying that the moment you disturb this peaceful town, you're going to be in a lot of trouble." She warned, her voice was intimidating.

Alex shot a friendly glare at Karim, but her shoulders were still stiff. Guess it doesn't work on all females.

"Look, uh. Karim, was it? I'm just here to enjoy the sights. I heard that this town once boomed with tourism so I traveled here." He raised his hands in surrender.

"Huh. By the looks of it, you're also a bounty hunter. And I doubt that your sole purpose is just vacation." She raised an eyebrow.

"Nevertheless, I'm keeping an eye on you. Any report the Sheriff will receive against you, and I'll personally kick you out of this place. I've had enough with the pillaging and you're just another problem." She added, as she went back inside the saloon. Alex was left to stare at her figure leaving the area.

He was left wondering about the pillaging, is there any way Barkov was involved in all of this? Or is this something else entirely? He was convinced this town held secrets of its own and he had a bad feeling about this.

He wanted to know more of the town, considering that he'll stay here for quite longer and as soon as he entered the inn, he was greeted by a pair of lovely eyes. The receptionist smiled at him, her stare never changed since he got there yesterday. Alex approached her, put down his hat and asked.

"If you don't mind, how long have you been working here?" The woman giggled and reached for his chin. He knew it. There was definitely something going on here.

"Funny story, cowboy. I own this place." She muttered, almost suggestively as she aggressively leaned in for a kiss, catching Alex off guard.

~

Alex sat by the bed's headboard, one leg up as his arm rested on it while staring at the dark outdoors. The glow of the moon illuminated his face as he was deep in thought.

"I always think men deep in thought are the sexiest thing ever." The innkeeper mused as she slowly got up, pulling the sheets to cover her body.

"Hmm" Alex chuckled as he felt her lean on his shoulders, her left hand trailed on his firm and hairy chest.

"Penny for your thoughts?" She asked, the tone in her voice was notably filled with curiosity and Alex didn't mind sharing.

"Was just thinking about the raids. When and why it happened." He said, turning to her who was busy admiring his physique, fingers dancing on each of his abs.

"Oh, those." Her fingers stopped as she left his shoulder. Alex felt like he triggered something in her, making him worry about asking.

"Well, it started around a year ago. This town was ransacked with everything. They would wreck the place, as if looking for something, but everytime we came back after evacuating, none of our valuables would get stolen. They'd just flip the whole place upside down. Even our money from the register would still be intact." She told Alex.

"Around that time, Karim and Sheriff Price stepped up and tried to defend, but they would always arrive by surprise and they'd beat us up without question." She frowned.

"That's why we have that huge bell there. The convoy could be seen from afar, giving us time to evacuate. Then the rumors started rolling that this town was abandoned. Tourism went down, the only thing keeping this place afloat are the people who didn't get the news of it being abandoned. And honestly, you are the only one keeping this inn afloat for this week." She said, Alex frowned at the situation this town was in. No wonder Karim felt tense upon his arrival.

"Then Karim came up with an idea. If a local would capture the greatest fugitive known ever, the bounty could boost back tourism. I know it's a long shot, and she barely caught a few ones but we have hope that she'll bring back the name of this town." She said, leaning back to Alex again. Her voice was filled with hope. And Alex now realized how Karim acted toward him earlier.

"Got any horses I could rent tomorrow?" Alex asked her.

"She's not for rent, but she could use a few rounds." She chuckled.

"Thanks… uh." Alex replied, stammering knowing he didn't get her name.

"It's Kate. Short for Catherine. You never bothered to ask." She giggled.

"Well in my defense, everything happened in a flash." Alex replied as their lips started to get closer.

"It's not my fault you're… magnetic." She mused, tapping his nose.

"Me? How so?" Alex asked as Kate straddled herself on Alex.

"What about that lovely girl from last night, then?" She mused, her forehead rested on his as her hands gripped his biceps tight.

"She was too drunk from all the drinks. I'd feel bad if I left her alone there." He replied confidently, his hands grabbed her waist. Kate just smiled and met Alex's lips, kissing each other under the faint glow of the moon.

~

"Are you sure she's fine with this?" Soap's low register was worried as Alex prepared the horse.

"Yeah. Hundred percent. Why? What's wrong with this horse?" Alex shot an inquisitive glare at the bartender, who happened to be off today. And they happened to wear the same red flannel and orange neckerchief combo.

"Oh nothing. Isabelle doesn't really go out that often like the old times. Guess she was ready to put her back to the road." Soap muttered, putting on his hat. Alex once again shot the same glare.

"Isabelle?"

"The horse. It's Isabelle. Kate got her when she was a pony. I remember playing with this pony as a kid. Endless hours of fun. He chuckled, taking a trip to memory lane. Alex somehow caught wind of Soap's relationship toward Kate.

"Soap." He tried snapping the man back to reality.

"Yeah?" He shook his head. "The real name's John by the way. Soap's only when I'm in that bar." he informed, making Alex nod.

"So John, you and Kate…?" he asked. John shot up an awkward glare, his hands shook dismissively.

"Oh no no no no. Never." He said shyly. This made Alex raise his eyebrow.

"Why not?"

"She's just a friend. Alex. I liked her at some point but it was best to remain someone close but not so intimate. Especially after her Dad died, imagine if I, her only closest friend, would show what I truly feel and lose her, where will she cling to?" He muttered. Alex thought of the situation. It wasn't in his authority to barge in to John's life choices, but considering that he's capable enough, and he knew what his choice meant.

"Okay. Now, lead me to that abandoned mine."Alex said, with enthusiasm as John rode his trusted horse.

"Alex, it's this way." He called, as Alex turned and followed John, making their way to the mines.

"Tell me more about the raids." Alex quickly caught up with John, thanking Isabelle for being a good girl.

"Well I scout the big bell every thursday. Did it last night hence I'm off today. But when the bell rings, most townies are advised to hide in their basements. We tried fighting but it's no use. These raiders don't give a shit about human lives." Soap grieved, continuing on to the mine.

"Since you insisted this would be a tour, on your left is Fool's Rock. It's the biggest single piece of rock you'll ever find in this area. Little is known about what rests on top of it as no one has ever made it that far." Soap pointed as Alex turned to the rock, all dusty and glimmering orange from the sunrise.

"How far is this abandoned mine?" Alex asked.

"Not far from the canyons. It would take about an hour or so. Hope you brought water." He chuckled as his horse sped off, causing Alex to quickly catch up on their way to the mines.

[To be continued...]

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

[litwitlady]

The Fix, Part One

The hour is late. Last call looming on the tip of Maria’s tongue. Alex is hunched over the bartop, spinning his empty tumbler in circles across the sticky, splintered wood. Little rainbows dancing as the light refracts.

Behind him, Michael is tucked into his favorite booth. Every so often he dares a glance at Alex’s back. Hoping to catch him peering over his shoulder. But so far, nothing. So, he’s scarring the already scratched table with his keys – dragging the jagged edge over and over along the soft lacquered wood. Knowing Maria will not be pleased.

But he can fix the table. He can fix anything. Anything except him and Alex.

Not that he’s tried. Best he’s done is make things worse.

A song comes on the jukebox. Some summer love song sung soft and slow. Sweet, candy-pop voice melting around the love-drunk lyrics of a second chance romance. Michael rolls his eyes, pockets his keys, and grabs his hat to leave.

And that’s when Alex decides to look back. Michael’s breath catches.

He strides to the bar, cowboy bravado firmly in place. Straddles the stool next to Alex and tosses his hat onto the bar. ‘Come here often?’

Alex huffs out a bitter sounding laugh. ‘More often that usual lately. But you know that already. Been here every night I’ve been here.’

‘Yeah, well. The Pony is practically my home. You normally have better things to do. Better company to keep.’

‘Better company is now long gone company.’ He pulls out his wallet and throws a few bills on the bar. Sets his whiskey glass on top. ‘But I bet you knew that too.’

‘Word gets around. Townies like to gossip.’ Michael darts his eyes to Maria. She’s paying them no mind.

Alex snorts. ‘So does the local dive bar owner, apparently.’

‘Don’t be mad at DeLuca. I’d already guessed anyway.’ He runs the back of his finger along Alex’s jawline. ‘Your barely there stubble gave you away. Thought the military didn’t allow such homeliness?’

Alex swats his hand away. ‘Took a few days off. Corner of my roof caved in under all that rain last week.’

‘Wait, what?’ Michael sits up straighter, concerned. ‘Why didn’t you call me? I would have fixed it for free. And better than whatever half-assed fix Hal Rivers managed.’

‘Hal Rivers is a certified contractor.’

Michael scoffs. ‘Hal Rivers is a no-good grifter. I’ll stop by this weekend to check it out. Or better yet - tonight. Right now.’ He drops his hat onto his head and hops off his stool.

‘Guerin, it’s nearly two in the morning. I’m going home and I’m going to bed. My roof is fine.’ But he doesn’t move from his stool. Just stares up at Michael from where he still sits.

It is late. And he’s tired too. But Michael falls back onto the stool anyway. Facing Alex. Knees lightly touching. ‘Please can I check? Just a quick in and out. I promise.’

Alex rolls his eyes and sighs. ‘In and out.’

They walk out of the bar together. Maria watches them go and smiles to herself. Shoots a quick text to Isobel with a delighted update.

Outside the night is clear. The stars numerous and bright. Moon hanging low and full over the distant mountain peaks. Only a few cars remain in the dirt lot this close to last call. Michael and Alex are parked on opposite sides. Neither speaking as they separate.

It’s true that Alex’s roof has been perfectly repaired. It’s also true that Michael is well aware that Hal Rivers is no con man. But what’s equally true is that neither one of them cares about the roof repair in the first place. There’s a game afoot. And that game must be played.

To the end. To the beginning. Only time will tell.  

They park beside each other in Alex’s driveway. Michael follows Alex to his front door, silent and trailing a few steps behind. Inside, the lights click on and Alex shrugs off his jacket. ‘Spare bedroom. Don’t dally, Guerin.’

Michael heads back alone and gets a text from Isobel as soon as he opens the bedroom door. Just a single sentence.

You better wake up next to Alex tomorrow morning, Michael.

He shoves his phone into his pocket, swearing at her under his breath. Maria, too. It’s clear now that they are in cahoots. Probably have been for some time. He hates when Isobel meddles. But what he hates even more are the newfound unbidden images that are looping through his mind.

Alex panting, sweaty and naked beneath him. Hands fisting at clean, cotton sheets. The soft way he always moans when Michael laps at his nipple. Heels crushing into the mattress as toes curl in on themselves. The sex-drunk, bed-tousled look of him on the rare morning after.

‘Are you done?’

Michael startles, crashing out of his daze. ‘Um, not yet.’ What he lacks in eloquence he makes up in brevity. He cuts his eyes to Alex who is leaning in the doorway – half-naked, jeans slung low on his hips. Belt nowhere to be found. Michael smirks at him. ‘You’ve always been such a tease.’

Alex quirks an eyebrow. ‘And you didn’t come here to check on my roof.’

At least now it’s all out on the table.

‘I bet you haven’t eaten. I’ll make you a sandwich.’ Alex nods towards the kitchen and leaves. Expecting Michael to follow. Which he does. Stomach already growling. He doesn’t know how Alex knew. Alex has just always known exactly what he needs. Since they were seventeen.

Michael hops up onto Alex’s kitchen counter and watches him work. ‘As much as I love shirtless sandwich-making Captain Alex, I’m pretty sure I don’t deserve this. So what gives?’

‘I’m guessing you got a text a few minutes ago. From Isobel?’ Alex spreads peanut butter and jelly onto four slices of breads.

‘And you got one from Maria.’ He laughs. ‘They aren’t very good at this.’

‘Subtle, no. But we are alone together.’ He cuts both sandwiches into triangles and hands two slices to Michael.

They eat silently. Both considering what they want from their current situation. Michael can’t help but drag his eyes over Alex’s body. A body he knows so well, each soft curve and taut muscle memorized in the curl of his fingers. He wants to take Alex to bed. He wants to stay the night. He wants to stay the rest of his life.

‘Is that what you want?’ Alex sets his sandwich aside and slinks between Michael’s thighs. ‘You want to ignore all the fucked up shit between us and let me fuck you over my dining room table? Right here, right now.’ He slides his hands around Michael’s hips and licks his lips. ‘Is that what you really want, Michael?’ 

All he can do is shake his head.

‘Good. Because it’s not going to happen.’ He turns back to his sandwich.

The tension is so thick it burns. ‘I want to talk. That’s what I want.’ Michael slides off the counter and moves to stand next to Alex. ‘What do you want?’

Alex grips the edge of the sink, triceps flexing, and sighs. ‘I want you to crawl into a time machine, travel back to open mic night and make some better fucking choices.’ His voice isn’t just laced with anger, it is drowning in his fury.

‘But I can’t do that.’ He can fix anything. Anything except him and Alex.

‘Then I want you to leave, Michael.’ He pushes off the counter and disappears from the kitchen, bedroom door slamming behind him.

Michael stands alone in the moonlight. Fists clenched and tears threatening. He can fix anything. Anything. Anything. Anything. But not this.