#the cowgirl vest is BACK

[renegadeem]

Band!AU - Flowers Blooming in Seventh Heaven

A little Aerti moment

[htchnr]

♰ thanks sugar ༻ C. HOWARD.*ೃ˚

➻ masterlist. ➻ buy me a coffee!

PAIRING ➻ southern bounty hunter!reader x Cooper Howard.

CW ➻ mention of drugs ⋆ alcohol consumption ⋆ fallout typical violence ⋆ reader sustains a bad injury ⋆ but it's not too explicitly described ⋆ mention of stitching up said injury ⋆ if i missed anything, lmk!

SUMMARY ➻ "Can i request a bounty hunter reader who is always one step ahead of Cooper and he’s fed up with her? Then the reader is in a deadly situation and he decides to rescue her, because even if he’s fed up that she’s always one step ahead of him, he respects her for that." requested by the lovely @likoplays WC ➻ 2,8K.

© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐇𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐍𝐑. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦, 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!

he didn't know quite what to feel the first time he encountered you..

his hairless brows furrow the moment he lays eyes on you — his bounty, dead, beneath your boot. you look up from the body beneath you, and smile. a disgustingly sweet smile on your shockingly soft looking lips. “heya sugar,” you grin, “it appears you jus’ missed this fella here,” your tone confident and ever so slightly out of breath from the fight he had missed.

he huffs frustratedly, and when his harsh eyes drag down your form the pieces fit together in his head. so you’re the cowgirl bounty hunter that’s been cashing in his bounties.

he can see it now, why’d people mistake him for you sometimes if they can’t see his face — your body clad in tough jeans and a layer of belts draped across your hips. a worn down cowboy hat atop your head with a bullet hole going through the rim on the right side. he could spot a peak of some leather vest and a worn shirt sticking out from it and atop it all a tattered worn duster draped over your shoulders.

huh, he thought to himself. just that, a contemplative ‘huh’. the conversation that followed was less harsh then he thought it’d be now that he can put a face to your name. he still made his points very clear though.

by the third time the pair of you cross paths he’s gotten used to your honey sweet drawl and even sweeter smiles. he wondered since the day he met you why you always smiled so bright, given the world you live in and the job you do.

the bar smells like spilled liquor and blood, the air is sticky and stuffy in the summer’s heat. the people in it probably smell worse, but he’s thankful he’s can’t smell most of it.

the oh so familiar “heya sugar,” sounds from across the bar in Filly. he looked over and saw you sitting a few stools down from him, sipping on something dark. he huffs and nods in your direction before returning his attention to the bourbon in his dirty glass.

he listens to your stool creak and groan before the thuds of your boots follow you to the stool beside him. “any good contracts on the horizon?” you tease with a grin.

he looks up from his glass, watching you down the remainder of yours. his dark eyes follow a stray drop that drips past your lips and down your chin before you catch it with a finger, dipping the finger between your lips to suck up the liquid. he sighs and downs his own glass, wishing he could feel the burn as the alcohol trickled down.

“well, wouldn't you like to know, hm?” he drawls, his eyes slightly squinting at you. he knows damn well that you know what’s on his horizon. seeing as you’ve probably got the same bounties on yours.

you sigh, swirling a stray drop of liquor in your glass around. “you ain’t bein’ fun,” you huff as you tip back your glass to catch that last drop on your tongue. you stretch your shoulders, groaning in the process before shrugging your duster back over your shoulders.

you nod at the bartender and hand him a few caps, thanking him with that same sickly sweet smile before standing up. you turn back to him, tightening your holster belt. “well, i’ll be seein’ you stud.” you tip your hat to him before walking out the bar and into the fresh air.

he hasn't seen you in a while, he thinks to himself, while he walks along the tracks of his latest bounty — some guy who had plundered a large settlement. who in turn wanted the man alive, so they could convict him or some shit. they were paying a hefty heap of caps for the man, and that was all that mattered.

the trail started to head in the direction of the Super Duper Mart he frequents for RadAway, to his surprise. maybe the bounty needs a patch up or some chems, who knows. if the tracks lead there, he might as well pick up some more vials of RadAway, more could never hurt.

the tracks indeed lead to the front doors of the Super Duper Mart, though are soon joined by a second pair, one he’s grown to recognise anywhere. he groans, head dropping back in frustration. he was starting to get a little low on caps and would really fucking like a job to turn out in his favor before he has to turn to the ones he’ll hate doing.

he rummages through his saddlebags, looking for things he could offer in return, when he hears a loud slam against the window on the right side of the building. he knew what went down there, and this kind of commotion was not uncommon, but definitely relatively unusual. he ignores the sounds as his hand touches some Jet, that’ll have to do for now, he thinks to himself.

he grabs the handful of Jet, hitting the button on the speaker. “transaction.” he drawls, dark eyes trying to look through the dirty glass as if he might see his bounty there.

it’s quiet for a second, before the familiar voice of the Handy comes through, “yes?”

“ten vials for fifteen Jet.”

more silence before the speaker crackles again, “the deal can be further discussed inside, the doors will open.”

Cooper sighs, not looking forward to the hassle of making a deal with the idiots inside. the doors squeak open in a few seconds and he makes his way inside. the relatively cool building was a slight relief compared to the harsh sun.

the moment he steps inside the commotion from the room across from him rings crystal clear through the building. he supposed the guys running it are used to it and barely blink at it. he walks past the room, and reaches the guys in charge sat lazily on the couch in front of the tv.

Cooper clears his throat, the two guys looking up immediately. “ten vials for ten Jet, right?” the left guy says, slightly slurring his words.

“uh huh,” Cooper confirms.

and to his surprise the guys are probably so high they didn't hear what the Handy said and the deal seems fine to them as the left guy rummages through the box of chems to pull out ten vials of RadAway. he wonders for a brief second, if he could rip off the guys and give them less Jet and still get the vials — they don’t seem to be in the condition to properly count anything.

the left guy holds out his shaky hand expectantly and Cooper drops eight Jet into his palm, curious about the outcome. and to his surprise the guy takes the Jet, stares at them blankly, then hands Cooper exactly ten vials. huh, he thinks, well done.

he thanks them after stuffing the vials into his box with the last of his other ones and heads back to the entrance. he nears the room where all the commotion is still coming from and almost passes before he hears a familiar voice yell out.

“dagnabbit! you better get ‘ur grimey saws ‘way from me you asshole!”

your southern twang was even more prominent with your anger and panic, but he could recognise your voice anywhere. he stood before the closed door with a war inside him;

with how little contracts you left him it’d be great career wise for him to leave you here, no more stealing his high paying bounties, he’d finally be able to afford a little more supplies — but a side of him also grew to deeply respect your skill. the way you managed to handle bounties that had even him slightly questioning if he could do it. you clearly had great skill to make it this long in the business and in the world.

he groans, head dropping back as he beat himself for what he was about to do. the panic in your voice sounded genuine, it sounded like you were genuinely fighting for your life. he set his saddlebag down by the door and kicked it open, the door slamming into the wall.

he walked into the room, blood splattered across the floor, the usual tools and coolers around. and then his eyes landed on you, strapped down to a gurney with the Handy trying to hack away at you.

guessing by the blood on the floor he had gotten at least one good slice in. at the sound of the door slamming open both you and the Handy turned to him. “no people allowed in this room!” the Handy crackles, though his blades still hovering above you.

“heya sugar,” you pant heavily. “fancy seein’ you ‘ere,” you somehow manage a genuine smile, which catches him a little off guard, given the situation you’re in.

“quite the predicament you’ve found ‘urself in, huh?” he nods, eyes still watching the Handy as the robot hovers still.

you flinch at something and swallow thickly, “nothin’ i ain’t done before,” he can see the pain through your smile now, and it makes him want to kick himself for what it makes him feel inside.

he unholsters his gun, aiming at the Handy, “hey tincan, how’bout you leave the lady alone?” he drawls, eyes squinting at the robot.

“i afraid i cannot do so, she has been prepared for harvesting.” the Handy states.

Cooper sighs, knowing that whatever happens here means the end of his dealings with this place. it takes a mere inch that the Handy moves towards him and Cooper puts a bullet through it. smoke shoots out the side that was shot. “t-t-that was n-no-o-ot friendly-” the Handy malfunctions, fully turning to him now.

he rolls his shoulder before unloading the other three heavy rounds into the Handy round body. the Handy spurts out smoke and steam from everywhere, dropping to the floor with a loud crash. he really hopes the guys out back are too high to notice all this.

Cooper holsters his gun, side stepping around the dying Handy as he makes his way to you. the closer he gets, he can see what caused you to flinch and where all the blood all over the floor came from — a huge gash in your side. not concerningly deep, but still worrisome nonetheless. you had a few cuts across your bare shoulders as well, he guesses from you thrashing around while the Handy tried to cut you open.

your head drops down onto the gurney and you groan in relief. “oh crud muffin’,” you huff, the muscles in your side flexing in pain. Cooper watches carefully as he begins to unbuckle the restraints, making sure to be extra careful with the one around your hips that’s awfully close to your wound.

“what ‘m i glad to see your handsome face ‘ere,” you pant, massaging your wrists the moment they're free.

Cooper steps back from the gurney a little once he’s unbuckled the restraints around your ankles so you can sit up. he squints at your choice of words. handsome. you sit up, a little shaky. “phew,” you huff, reaching a hand to your side. “my knight in shinin’ spurs-” your voice trailing off just before your body goes limp and drops forward.

Cooper hands immediately find your shoulders, pushing you up before you’re able to drop off the gurney. “damnit girl,” he swears as he lays you down, eyes sweeping over the gash in your side. it was significantly worse than he thought, and given the amount of blood on the floor you had been fighting quite a bit.

he huffs, searching around for med supplies. it surprises him that you kept going as long as you did. he dumps whatever supplies he could find in your lap, before turning his full attention to your wound. you were gonna owe him after this..

bright lights and a warm feeling wakes you, eyes painfully peeling open. expecting the ceiling of the Super Duper Mart, your eyes instead are met with the bright sky, the hot sun beating down on you. you shoot up in a panic, though nearly cry out in pain as the stitches in your side constrict. “sugar honey iced tea!” you shout out with your eyes clenched shut, your hand immediately holding the injury.

footsteps come dashing from behind you, the sun suddenly blocked by someone. your eyes shoot open, wild eyes meeting a familiar pair of dark, hollow ones. it takes you a second, before you sigh in relief and drop back down. you’re quiet for a moment as you catch your breath, before speaking. “where are we?” your throat is sore.

Cooper huffs, the sound of your cry still pounding in his heart. “not too far out from the Super Duper,” he drawls, catching his own breath a little.

when you open your eyes again to look at him, you notice something strange — he’s not wearing his duster. and that’s when it clicks, the heavy coat is draped over top of you. your eyes flit across his form, a raggedy denim shirt sticking out from a thick leather vest that has certainly seen better days with a few missing buttons and what are almost certainly knife shaped holes.

your eyes drag down to his scarred forearms that are exposed below his sleeves that're rolled up, your distracted eyes lingering a little longer than they should.

you reluctantly sit up, groaning as you do so. the duster drops into your lap as you lift your shirt up to assess the damage. “ahw shucks, that ain’t lookin’ good..” you huff, brows furrowed in pain and eyes staring at the roughly stitched gash.

Cooper clears his throat, “did the best i could on a whim, hope that’s okay,” and this is the first time you’ve heard him speak without the confidence and strength he usually has.

you shake your head, “don’t worry ‘ur handsome head, this more than i could’ve asked you for and’m thankful for it,” you tip your head at him, a pained but genuine smile on your lips. god, he thought, was there ever a time you didn’t look so sugary sweet?

he nods in return, “you’re welcome,” he walks over to offers you a bottle of what appears to be bourbon, which you gratefully accept with a pained grin. “should ‘elp take the edge off,”

you take a generous swig, a low moan of relief being pulled from your lips as the liquid trickles down. you relish the sweet burn before handing him back the bottle. “i can’t thank you enough,” you smile.

Cooper shakes his head, “don’t worry your pretty head about it,” he copies your words. he takes a swig before shoving the bottle back in his saddlebag. he pauses as he thinks, “well, there is one thing you could do,” he trails off.

you let out a laugh, and he thinks it might be the sweetest thing he’s heard in decades. “out with it, what d’you need?” you chuckle.

he shrugs, tilting his head with a playful smirk on his lipless skin. “you could always leave me some bounties for once?” he drawls, eyes squinted to aid the smirk.

you let out another laugh, this one equally if not even more sweeter sounding then the last. “well i��ll tell you what sugar, why don’t we stop dancin' around, partner up and split the caps instead?” there's a smidge of hopefulness in your tone, yet he also feels as though you’ve left no room for a no from him.

he sucks his teeth, looking up as if contemplating his answer. though, the both of you already know what he’ll say. finally, he tips his hat to you, “alright then, 's long as you rest up till that’s healed enough. got it? don’t want you messin’ up my masterpiece,” he chuckles.

that earns him another strained laugh from you. “can’t promise i’ll stay out of a good fight, but you got it sugar.” you grin and wink.

oh lord, he thinks, he’s in for a looong ride.

TAGLIST @live-logs-and-proper @looonytooons @seeingstarks @thewastelandwriter @lacey-mercylercy

[vioartemis]

All I ever wanted

(g!p Sam Carpenter x fem! reader)

Summary: Sam and you had gotten into an argument, you decide to be petty and go to a party you know she told you not to go to... Warnings: (+18), smut, g!p Sam, unprotected sex, (let me know if I forgot something) Request is here :)) a/n: I uh never wrote g!p before so it might be really bad 💀 (English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn't make sense TvT)

A few hours ago, your girlfriend and you had a fight about one of her colleagues. Maybe you were a little jealous of Sam's coworker, and of the attention your girlfriend had been giving her lately.

You were more than a little jealous, actually. You couldn't help it.

Even though Sam had told you she didn't give a damn about the girl, your insecurities couldn't stop telling you that maybe the girl likes your girlfriend in more than a just-coworkers way. I mean who wouldn't?

You had spent the last hours on the couch while Sam went to see her therapist. You were upset, even if it wasn't totally her fault. But still. She was giving this random girl more attention than she was giving you.

And that pissed you off.

"Hey, where are you going?" you ask Tara, seeing her exiting her room in a pirate costume

"I uh... I'm going to a party"

"What party? The OKB party Sam forbid us to go to?"

Tara rolled her eyes.

"Don't start to act like her Y/n, please. I'm an adult, I can-"

"I wasn't going to prevent you from going. Actually..." you stand up and stretch "Do you mind waiting for me so I can put on a costume?"

She looked at you with wide eyes. Until then, you were always on Sam's side.

"Uh, sure..."

She's still a little shocked by your behavior when you come back five minutes later, dressed in a homemade cowgirl costume; white shirt, opened to reveal your black bra, and denim shorts that covered only what had to be covered.

"You're going to the party... like that? Don't you think it's a little... you know..."

That's the moment Quinn chose to enter the living room. She whistled at the sight of you.

"I didn't think you were the kind of person to wear that, Y/n..." the redhead said "Were are you going?"

"OKB party" you replied, buttoning your shirt up

"The one Sam told you not to go to?"

"Yeah"

"She's gonna be sooo mad..."

You didn't reply, tying your vest around your waist to cover you bottom half while you're not at the party.

"See you later Quinn" you simply said, putting your hat on your head before grabbing your keys and opening the door.

The party was great, everyone was having fun. You had left you vest to Anika and Mindy, who were sitting on a couch, and went dancing with Tara.

After a while you excused yourself and went in the kitchen to grab something to drink.

"Hey there beautiful" a voice said behind you, as a hand was placed on your shoulder

You turned around, and faced the guy, raising an eyebrow as you tried to figure out whether you knew him or not.

"What a pretty girl like you is doing here all alone, hm?"

"Just looking for something to drink" you said

"Here. I'm Frankie by the way"

The guy handed you a half full bottle, which you grabbed and poured yourself a glass.

"Thanks, Frankie"

You handed him the bottle and left the kitchen as soon as he grabbed it.

"Wait!" he said, making you roll your eyes "Why don't we stay together a little, hm? We could have fun..."

"I'm gonna have to pass"

"C'mon, don't be such a prude...!" he mumbled, grabbing your wrist and pulling you closer to him

"I'm not being a prude, I'm not interested. I have a girlfriend and love her very much. Let go of me now."

"I'm not implying any love, just a kiss. C'mon..."

He tried to kiss you, but a sudden punch in the face made him stumble away. Too busy trying to get rid of him, you hadn't noticed Sam.

She was mad. At you probably, but mostly at Frankie for now. He seemed to have had enough with that punch, and almost ran away with a bloody nose.

"What were you thinking?" Sam asked, turning to you "I told you not go to that party! It was not for you to go dressed like... that!"

"I don't need your permission, Sam! I'm not a child, I do what I want."

She didn't answer and just threw her sweater to you.

"Cover yourself up, we'll talk about that when we get home."

You were only now noticing the crowd that formed around you. The amount of pair of eyes looking at you made you a little self-conscious, and you quickly put Sam's sweater on. It was way too big for you.

As soon as you have her sweater on, you girlfriend grabbed your wrist and pulled out with her, outside of the house, where Tara and the others were already waiting.

"Sam-" Tara started

"We're going to talk about that at home." her sister answered, walking past her, still dragging you behind her

The rest of the group was forced to follow without questions, not wanting to get yelled at. But not you. You were in a kinda petty move tonight it appeared.

You had walked a few meters when you released your wrist from her grip. Immediately, she turned to face you.

"Stop trying to control us, Sam. You have to let us live our lives!" you said

"I'm not trying to control you, I just want to protect you, Y/n"

"Protect me from what? Sam, you can't live in the past like that, you need to move on!"

There's a silence between the two of you, soon broken by some random girl.

"Hey!" she said to Sam

Your girlfriend turned around, only for the girl to throw her soda on her.

"Murderer!" the girl continued

Chad and Tara pulled her back before she could push the girl away, but no one tried to hold you back. You took the opportunity to grab the girl's collar and punched her in the face.

You raised your arm to strike again, but you felt an arm wrapping around your waist, holding you back. Sam. You tried to break free, but she was too strong. The only thing you could do was glare at the other girl, who was running away.

Sam released you after the girl was out of sight, and took a look at your hand, worried you might have hurt yourself.

"... Thank you for defending me..." she said, her eyes not leaving your bruised hand "I thought..."

You shake your head, squeezing her hand gently.

"Just because we had a fight doesn't mean I'm gonna let anyone talk to you like that..."

Sam looked up, her dark eyes meeting yours.

"I'm... I'm sorry for this morning... I shouldn't have said all that..." you apologized "It's just..." you sighed "I was scared... I am scared you will lose interest and find someone better than me..."

Her expression softened at your words. She let go of your hand and cupped your cheeks, tilting your head up and pressing her lips on yours in a tender kiss.

"I will not lose interest in you, Y/n. You're all I ever wanted. I don't want anyone else"

You gave her a little smile before wrapping your arms around her and hugged her tight, whispering a 'thank you'. She hugged you back happily, caressing your hair.

"Let's go home, hm?"

You nodded, making the hug last a bit longer before letting go of her. She took your hand, giving you a warm smile, and you started to make your way home.

Once you reached the apartment, Sam and you went to your shared bedroom. As soon as you got in, she pressed another soft kiss on your lips.

"You know... I found it kinda hot when you punched that girl" she chuckled

"Well, if I'm being completely honest with you... I found it kinda hot too when you punched that guy" you replied with a smile

"You know what else I found hot tonight?" Sam asked, taking off 'your' hoodie "You in that costume"

She looked you up and down, biting her bottom lip as her eyes stopped on your bra, before going back up to your lips, against which she pressed her own in a passionate kiss.

Her hands are in your short's back pockets, grabbing your ass and pulling you close as her lips dip down to suck marks on your neck.

Your fingers were soon tangled in her soft hair, your other hand gripping her arm slightly.

"Sam…" you let out in a breath

"Hm?" she hummed against your skin, her lips now on your collarbone.

"Tara’s here, she might hear us…"

"We’ll have to keep quiet them, hm?"

Her lips came back to yours as her hands left your back pockets to take off your shirt, and the rest of your clothes.

You helped her getting rip off her clothes as well, and can’t help the wave of arousal that flooded through you at the sight of her semi hard cock, precum already forming at her tip.

"See what you do to me?" Sam said with a smirk, her hand trailing down to your pussy "My, my… seems like you’re ready for me already" her smirk grew wider "Now be a good girl and get on your hands and knees for me"

You complied, getting on all fours on the bed, exposing your already wet cunt to her. She positioned herself behind you, hands on your ass, caressing it gently as she looked at your center.

"Why are you only obedient when I'm about to fuck you, hm?"

"What...?"

"I told you not to go to this party, didn't I? And what did you do?"

Not so happy with your lack of answer, her fingers wrapped around your throat and she pulled you flush against her.

"What did you do?"

"I went to the party..." you said in a breath, trying to concentrate on something else than her front pressed against your back.

You could feel every curve of hers, from her hard nipples to her thick cock, passing by her well defined abs.

"That's right" she released your throat, causing you to fall back down on the bed "I think a punishment is needed. But as you already apologized... 6 should be enough to remind you not to disobey me"

A gasp left your throat as her hand landed on your right ass cheek. She leaned in, whispering right next to your ear.

"Remember, you have to keep quiet, or Tara might hear us..."

Not wanting to get caught in that position, you buried your face in the pillow just as Sam gave your ass another slap, harder than before. She waited a few second for the pain to disappear a bit and gave your ass a hard slap you were sure would leave a mark.

After she did the same on the other side, she rubbed your reddened skin softly to soothe the pain, planting a gentle kiss on the back of your neck.

"You did good, princess. Here comes your reward for being such a good girl..." she said gently, slipping her middle and ring fingers in your dripping cunt, eliciting a moan from you

She pumped her fingers in and out a few times before pulling them out and shoving them in her mouth. She loved the taste of you, always so sweet.

She positioned herself behind you again, lining herself up with you, before thrusting in slowly.

She started moving her hips slowly, almost teasingly. You tried to fuck her back, but she held you in place, gripping your hips tightly.

The slaps had gotten you so horny, you felt like you were already about to cum

She picked up her pace, bringing you closer to your release, and she could tel you were close, by the way your pussy tightened around her cock, and by how the pillow was having a hard time muffling the loud moans that escaped your throat.

But just as you were about to cum, she pulled out, causing you to let out a whine. She then flipped you over, so you were resting on your back.

"Why'd you stop...?"

"I want to see your pretty face when I make you cum"

Saying that, she thrusted back into you and began to move her hips at a steady pace, fucking you so good it didn't take more than a minute for you to release all over her cock with a loud moan, too lost in the pleasure to care about Tara hearing you anymore.

If you weren't so overwhelmed, you would have seen Sam biting her lip at the sight of you coming undone under her, and you would have felt her cock throbbing inside you as she fucked you through your orgasm.

As she continued to pound into you, she leaned in and wrapped her lips around your erect nipple, sucking on it, before flickering it with tongue. She had a wide grin on her face.

She leaned back again.

At this moment, all of her senses were occupied by you.

The sight of you, under her, skin glistening with sweat, back arched, head thrown back; the moans that slipped out of your mouth, the way you moaned her name, begging her to go faster, the sound of skin slapping; the smell of you all over her, everywhere in the room; the taste of you, still on her tongue from earlier; the way you felt around her, so tight, so warm, taking her in perfectly, almost as if you were meant to haver inside of you.

All of this drove her crazy. She wanted to make you feel so good the only thing you would remember would be her name. She wanted to make you hers. Because you were. hers. Hers to love, hers to kiss, hers to fuck. You were her soulmate; she was sure of that.

It's with that thought in mind that she came deep inside of you, filling you up with her warm seed. The feeling made you cum again, eyes rolling to the back of your head, moaning her name repeatedly like a mantra.

She pulled out after a few more lazy thrusts, watching as her cum drip from your hole onto the sheets with a wide grin. She laid beside you on the bed, wrapping her arms around your waist, pulling you close, and placed a soft kiss on your forehead.

"Is everything okay? Was I too harsh with the slaps...?"

"Not at all! It was perfect, Sam, really" you replied reassuringly, tilting your head up to kiss her on the lips "You're perfect. You're all I ever wanted, but better. Sometimes I feel like we're meant to be..." you confessed

"Really? I feel that too. Maybe... maybe we're soulmates"

"I didn't think you believed in soulmates...! But I'm glad you do. I hope we are. I hope we're soulmates. I-"

"You got cut off by Tara and Quinn's voices in the hall.

"And they say I'm loud..."

"Do you know how much it would cost to have the walls insulated?"

Sam chuckled as she heard the conversation, and you both blushed in embarrassment.

"I told you to keep quiet, baby..."

You rolled your eyes with a smile, and playfully smacked her arm.

You wished to have the chance to live more moments like this with her, laughing, smiling, crying even, as long as you were together.

[artficlly]

king of pentacles [one-shot]

Wild West Marvel AU

outlaw!bucky x fortune teller!reader when your travelling circus rolls into town, you are warned that bucky barnes is the outlaw who rules these lands. you plan to keep your distance, but he and his men can not resist a little entertainment.

Warnings: 18+ content minors dni, smut, fem reader, blowjobs, begging, p in v, cowgirl position, bit of teasing, soft sub bucky??, if you squint theres some plot, fortune telling, tarot cards, violence, choking, blood, mention of death, mention of torture, mention of beatings, implied previous non-con to reader (not from bucky), protective bucky barnes, smoking, no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 5.9k

A/N: i literally cannot even tell you where this idea came from. i had a vague thought about a travelling circus, tarot reading character. i wrote this out and edited it in like two days?? insane. i don't normally write smut so let me know your thots lol. if you enjoy western marvel aus, please check out some of my other works. i have a one-shot called 'me & the devil' and a mini-series called 'a dish served cold'! sorry for any typos - not proof read.

main masterlist

It was a windy autumn night when James Buchanan Barnes and his pack of vermin invaded Elkhorn’s Travelling Circus and Freakshow. 

There were scarcely few in the area who had not heard of Barnes and his gang of outlaws. From the moment your caravans had pulled across state lines, you had been warned not to cross Bucky Barnes or his dogs. The law did not concern itself with this place, a place so far west that civilization had been left behind. The memories of cities, people, and culture were a mere whisper on the winds, a fleck of sand in an endless desert. This place was ruled by barbarians, and Bucky Barnes was their king. 

You had heard stories of the fabled man. Some said he was the devil himself, that he sported horns and hooved feet. Others said his eyes were black as the night but reflected the light as if he were part beast. Those terrified people would recall his wrath and how his enemies were never afforded a simple, painless death. No, those who crossed the King suffered for their crimes. 

So when that twisted, cruel man of legend stood before you... You were surprised to find he was none of what he was rumoured to be. 

It had only been an hour since the nightly show had wrapped up, darkness falling quickly due to the colder months looming. The gang of outlaws had stormed your small campsite, locating your leader and employer, Duke Elkhorn, and demanding they be entertained! The candles had been lit, and the music was playing. The animals had been brought from their cages once more, and dancers and performers were laced back into costumes. Barnes had asked for entertainment, so you would provide it, lest you find yourself dead in a ditch. 

Thankfully, you had not yet taken off your own outfit and makeup. A kohl to line your eyes; your lips painted red; hair loose with intermitten beading and braids. You wore large jewled earrings and layers of necklaces that partially covered the deep v of your neckline. Your dress was tightly fitted, your breasts were pushed upwards by the corset beneath, and your skirt was a deep green that swirled around your legs with each movement. Your small tent was filled with a haze of incense, lavish velvet, and silk used as draperies. Your tent was divided into two sections—your working space and your personal quarters. You had been checking your appearance in your cracked mirror when the ruffle of fabric alerted you to his presence. 

He stood with an unquestionable air of confidence, a cigarette in hand. His eyes narrowed as he looked you over, a cruel smirk playing across his lips. He was large and burly, with muscular forearms that bulged against the fabric of his sleeves, which had been pushed up to gather at his elbows. Blood stained his collar and sleeves, and a gold pocket watch was tucked into his vest. His dark hair was windblown, bits peeking out from under his black, cattleman hat. 

As he flicked his cigarette, you realised his knuckles were bruised and split. A subtle splatter of blood across his cheek, smeared, as if somone had reached up and grasped his face in their dying moments. 

“Our mutual friend, Mr. Elkhorn, told me that if I was lookin’ for a pretty thing to come find ya.” His voice was deep when he spoke, gravelly and rough. It sent a shudder down your spine. Damn Elkhorn. You always knew he was a coward, even though he thought himself a big man. You and the other performers were not strangers to his temper and desperation. You all tended not to challenge it, as he could be a cruel man as equally as he could be fearful. 

“He weren’t lyin’ was he?” He lets out a low whistle, exhaling smoke. “How’s he kept you a secret for so long, huh? Guess mah boys don’t come pokin’ in the tents that often. Too busy pokin’ their bits into them dancer girls.”

You remain silent as he chuckles to himself. He eyes you greedily; his icy blue eyes are anything but discreet. You could feel how his gaze rested on the curves of your hips and breasts, watching how your skin moved with each breath. Desire was a strange thing—how easily you might shift from feeling confident and powerful to nothing at all. 

You certainly felt like a squirming idiot under his gaze. 

“I’m not a whore.” You speak up, though your voice is hushed, hesitant, or even uneasy. You knew men like Barnes would not take being denied well. If you thought Elkhorn’s brutality was something to fear, your knees would positively buckle before Barnes. 

Barnes barks out a laugh, his brows raising in something between delight and surprise. He strides towards you, grinning as you flinch back. “Yer employer seems to think differently.”

Your eyes slide closed as he reaches forward, a finger sweeping a strand of hair from your face to better look at you. You swallow hard as he chuckles, smoke blowing across your face. Teeth grit, you slowly open your eyes, a shuddering exhale leaving your nose as he runs a finger across your cheek.

“He’s a spineless excuse of a man.” You dare to bite back, your voice wavering, but you stand tall. His amused expression has morphed into one of intrigue. His actions falter; hesitation is clear in his demeanour. 

“He make ya do things ya don’t wanna do, darlin’?” The outlaw asks, his voice surprisingly genuine. He is still close to you, close enough that you can smell the tobacco on his breath and feel the vibration of each word in his chest. 

“Sometimes.” You admit, your eyes flickering up to meet his gaze. He curses under his breath, rubbing his jaw in annoyance. Barnes backs off a few paces, putting out his cigarette on one of your sidetables. From your side view of his chiselled face, you see a muscle in his jaw tense. 

“Well, sweetheart. I ain’t in the business of bein’ with women who don’t want it.” He says with a roll of his shoulders. He has stalked over to your reading table, bruised knuckles white as he grips the back of your chair. 

You are at a momentary loss for words. You had anticipated being repulsed by this man, the one who repeatedly terrorised these lands and enabled his dogs to do what they wanted and take what they pleased. There was something strangely endearing about his care for your consent. 

“Well, I am glad to hear it.” You finally uttered. “Can’t say the same for some of your boys, though.”

A tense silence washes over the tent, and you almost immediately regret your words. Against your better judgement, you creep towards him. He doesn’t flinch away from your touch as your hands smooth over the top of his hands and wrists. Beneath you, he feels like stone, each tendon and muscle expertly chiselled like the statues you saw in the big cities back east. 

“Yer right. Pack o’ wild mongrels they are. Good for puttin’ folk in their place. I think I’ll get ‘em to pay yer employer a little visit. Remind him whose land he’s on.” 

Barnes goes to leave, pulling away from your touch. A wave of horror washes over you at his implication. You find yourself reaching for him again in an unexpected panic. Your hands latch around his bare forearm, tugging him back an inch. 

“Wait.” You shake your head, gripping his forearm. The outlaw looks back at you in curiosity. 

“I ain’t gonna hurt anyone else, sweetheart. Just him. ” He drawls, eyes darting to where you hold his arm. You drop it immediately, backing off. Your cheeks burn in embarrassment. 

“He will think your lesson is because I turned you down or because I wasn’t good enough for you.” You explain desperately. His eyes narrow, as if offended on your behalf. “Whatever you do to him, he will do to me twofold. As punishment. He is a cruel man, you understand?”

“Yer definitely not pleading his case well, darlin’.” There is impatience in his tone and ire that you could not even begin to comprehend. Your eyes flicker to his bruised knuckles, the splatters of blood. If Elkhorn found out, well, you would have to wear a veil for the rest of your life. Your face would be so mishapened and destroyed that you would bring fear into the hearts of anyone who laid eyes upon you. You would no longer be a fortune teller but a featured freak of Elkhorn’s sideshow. Men and women alike would pull faces, with children throwing food and rocks. The deformed woman— another beast in a cage. 

You have seen this fate play out too many times. Too many were lost to Elkhorn’s wickedness. 

“Please.” You beg. His brow arches and his adams apple bobs. 

You swallow nervously, then hesitantly step forward. With gentle hands, you take his forearm once more, guiding him to your reading table. “Just… I will entertain you for a suitable time. I can read your cards. Then, you can tell Mr. Elkhorn that you laid with me; embellish it if you wish.”

Barnes seems too intrigued to protest. 

He unbuttons his vest with a soft grunt, taking a seat at the table. His legs are spread wide in a domineering pose as he leans back into the seat with cool confidence. As you take a seat at the opposite end of the table, he reaches into his vest pocket. 

“So, how does this work?” He asks. You can tell he is irritated from the way his brow twitches and jaw muscles are still tense. He is playing along for your benefit, you realise. He is looking to you for amusement to stop himself from marching out of the tent and dealing with Elkhorn as promised. 

“I will shuffle the cards, then draw three. Each card has meaning, and all together, it will tell you the message you need to hear.” You explain. Barnes had pulled out a pack of cigarettes, offering you one. You decline with a wave of your hands, instead taking the cards into your palm. He shrugs, lighting it with a half-interested sigh. 

As he inhaled and you shuffled, you noticed his interest lay closer to your exposed skin. Even if he had backed off per your request, it did not seem to stop him from undressing you with his eyes from the opposite side of the table. He seemed emnamoured by the layers of necklaces and how they clinked and rolled across your skin. 

As you shuffled, the first card fell out. His tongue darted out, wetting his bottom lip as he watched you work. You slid the escapee card onto the table, facedown on the red tablecloth. 

“Anything in particular that you want to hear, hm?” You ask. As you lift your gaze, you find Barnes enraptured by your movements, so much so that he has forgotten to take another drag. “Most people want to know about their careers… their families. Love.”

“I don’t believe in love.” He says, sucking in a breath. You tilt your head. He didn’t believe in love, no. He believed in lust. Desire. From the way his pupils were blown and his lips parted in awe, he was positively eating out of your hand. A second card falls. You slide it next to the first. 

“Business it is, then.” You breathe. The final card falls from the deck just as the words leave your lips. You put it in place, then place the stack of the remaining deck to the side. Barnes is transfixed as you lean your arms parallel to the table and tilt forward. “Flip one.”

“Does it matter which order?”

“No.”

With unwavering confidence, he reaches forward, flipping over the first in the row. Your gaze falls downward to view the card, a frown pulling at your lips. You examine the familiar figures on the card. Two figures stood on either side, naked and chained. Behind them, in the darkness, loomed a beast with claws, horns, and wings. The Devil. 

How fitting. 

Barnes seems to find it ironic as well, as he scoffs in disbelief. “Ya playin’ a trick on me?”

You look up at him. The tension in the small tent is as thick as the smoke that hangs in the air. “No. The cards tell the truth, if you want to hear it or not.”

You reach out, stroking a finger over the card.

“The figures, they are chained. They don’t want to be there, but if you look closely… their chains are loose. They could escape at any moment.” If Barnes had a snarky comment, he does not say. He hung on to your every word. “And the longer they remain, the longer they become more like the devil. He represents the darkness within them, their shadow selves. It is the evil within you—the short-term pleasures—to ignore the long-term pains. Instant gratification. Greed, violence. You think you have free will, but you have sold your soul to the devil.”

“Tell me somethin’ I don’t already know darlin,” The outlaw says with a chuckle. You notice that his shoulders have relaxed, a cool amusement embodying him. 

You hold his gaze. “Next card.”

His fingers brush yours as he flips over the centre card. The King of Pentacles. 

“The Devil and now the King? You’re spoilin’ me, sweetheart.” He chuckles. 

You eyed the card. The king sat upon his lavish throne, surrounded by wealth. You tap your nail across the yellow pentacle symbol, humming in thought. “King of Pentacles. It represents wealth and abundance. He has influence and is a skilled leader.”

Your head tilts. “It’s a warning.”

“A warnin’? Sounds like a good card to me.” 

“The king has all that he wants. An abundance of wealth. Everything he touches turns to gold, like King Midas.”

“King Midas?”

“It’s an old tale. One of caution. About a king who was blessed with the power to turn anything he touched into gold. His kingdom flourished with wealth, but he soon found himself to be unhappy. He could not eat, as any food that touched his lips turned to gold. He could not know the comforts of the flesh, for the women would also turn to gold. Everything he once cherished…gone. Then, one day he lost the one thing he loved most, his daughter. She kissed her father upon his forehead and instantly became a statue of gold.”

“I would be a far richer man if I were this…King Midas.”

“But don’t you see? You are him. You are a king who is flush with wealth; your influence is strong. Your people flourish. Everything you do and everything you touch becomes profit. But at what cost? How much more will you lose? How much more will you give up for greed?” You finger turns to point at the Devil card. His lips are set in a straight line as he scowls at you. 

“You best be careful now.” He warns. You shudder, leaning back in your seat, motioning for him to flip the final card. 

You stare down at the table, your breath held in horror. The figure in the card sits up in bed, hands to their face in anguish. Decorating the wall behind them are a row of swords, two of which could be seen to be piercing through the figure. Stabbed through the back. The frame of the bed is carved, illustrating two figures fighting. Nine of Swords. 

Your mouth feels dry as Barnes peers at you expectantly. “Well?”

You can’t find the words; your brows are scrunching as you try to find the best way to articulate the meaning without triggering the brooding outlaw’s wrath. Your finger taps on the table, and you clear your throat, squirming in your seat. 

“Nine of Swords.” You utter quietly. “The figure… they are troubled by their own thoughts. Their worries, speculations… so much so that they manifest it into reality.”

Your fingers trace over the fighting figures. “You worry of a rising conflict.”

You ghost over the swords next. A backstabbing. 

It was all very clear to you how it all intertwined. Barnes was a man possessed by evil and greed. He had sacrificed much to accumulate his wealth; like King Midas, he had all the gold he could need, but at what cost? His followers, his people—they were afraid. Weary of their cruel leader. A coup was in the works. Jealousy brewed within his men; all they knew was evil, so all they could give was violence in return. 

“A betrayal.” You breathe. Your eyes snap up to meet his. His pupils were no longer blown, instead replaced with an icy rage. 

“How do ya know this?” His voice had dropped, low and threatening. His cigarette was discarded, flecks of burning ash glowing across the floor. His shoulders were tensed, straining against the fabric as he began to loom over you, slowly standing from his seat. 

You shrunk back. “I don’t, I just read the cards—” 

You let out a shriek as Barnes gripped the table, flipping it in one solid motion. The cards fluttered to the ground around you, the glossy paper flickering in the low candle light. You recoiled in your seat, limbs trembling as Barnes stood over you. 

“Did Rumlow put you up to this, huh? I know what him and his little pack of vermin have been whisperin’.” He spat on the ground beside you, and you flinched back. Barnes reached down, gripping your throat as he forced you to look up at him. 

“I don’t know anythin’. I swear—” You begged, tears prickling at your eyes. 

Barnes scanned your face, then released you with a huff. You scrambled away, retreating to the furthest corner of the tent. Barnes waved his hand at you with a sigh, re-buttoning his vest and straightening his shirt. 

“I’ll give ya the benefit of the doubt, darlin’. But if I find out you’ve been lyin’...I’ll kill ya myself. Ya understand?” 

You nodded wordlessly, whimpering as the outlaw marched out of your tent without a glance back. 

—

“Where is she?” The enraged roar of Bucky Barnes sent a nauseating wave of panic through your body. 

A couple weeks had past, and Elkhorn’s Travelling Circus and Freakshow were wrapping up their stay. Duke Elkhorn wanted to push further west, bring entertainment to the drivers and rustlers of the far reaches of the country. Within two days, you were set to leave this awful place and flee the clutches of Barnes and his boys. 

Well, it seemed that had been hopeful thinking. 

You were in your tent, in your personal quarters. You had pulled shut the draperies to allow yourself privacy. The strong men, slick with oil and always sporting toothy grins, were always eager to deliver you water to bathe in. It had become a sort of ritualistic routine of yours to undress and wash the makeup from your face. After hours of sitting in a stuffy tent stinking of incense, it was a relief to wash the smell from your body. 

You wore a silk robe, loosely tied at the waist. It had been a gift from a patron back east—some rich city boy who had a fascination with you. When Barnes crashed through your draperies into the back of your tent, chest heaving with a livid look in his eye… you froze. You were perched on a stool before your cracked mirror, pulling a brush through your long locks of hair. 

You stumbled to your feet, stool knocked to the ground. 

Barnes was covered in blood, his shirt so drenched that it clung to his skin. His jaw was clenched tightly, and his teeth were bared in a growl. The blood was still fresh on his arms and neck, the liquid glinting in the candlelight. He had not bothered to wear his hat; instead, his hair was messy, with a splattering of blood across his cheek.

“I told ya I would kill ya myself.” The outlaw snarled. 

You backed away, back meeting the tent wall. “I didn’t do anythin—”

You were cut off as Barnes marched forward, large hands wrapping around your throat. He squeezed tightly, a breathless whimper escaping your mouth.

“How did ya know?” He demanded, his face twisted into a look of rage. 

You claw at the front of his shirt, sticky blood coating your palms as you struggle. 

“Ya knew about Rumlow. Ya warned me of a betrayal.” 

He releases the pressure on your throat, and you meekly gasp in air, nails digging into his shoulder as you try to keep your knees steady. 

“I didn’t know, I just said what the cards showed—” You rasp. Barnes doesn’t seem pleased by your answer, jaw muscle ticing. 

“I don’t believe in yer magical horseshit. I know it’s all tricks and acts. How did ya know?”

“The cards aren’t magical. Each card has a meaning that can be understood in different ways, it’s my job to apply them to whoever walks into my tent. The cards just reveal thoughts you have not quite spoken aloud—ideas at the back of your mind. They ask you to confront your inner self. You knew Rumlow was a traitor before the cards, you had a suspicion, but you did not act on it until prompted by the cards.” You wheezed out. The outlaw slowly releases your throat, his face controrting into something closer to frustration than rage. Your palms brace flat on his chest as you steady yourself against him. 

“Deep down, you already knew he was a traitor.” You reiterate. 

“You’re a fuckin’ witch.” He breathes, then runs a hand through his messy hair. Blood streaks across his forehead, clumping his strands of hair. His head tilts as he looks down at you. His face has relaxed, as if a silent clarity had overcome him. “Even if ya deny it… ya did warn me.”

You clear your throat, hand raising to your neck as you brush your fingers over the tender flesh where he had gripped you. “You warned yourself.”

He stares down at you, then frowns guiltily. “Apologies, darlin’. I shouldn’t have done that to ya.”

You believe him.

You hold your breath as his fingers briefly skim over your neck. His gaze falls deeper, his eyes following the curve of your breast that was half-exposed by your robe. The fabric was bunched into a deep v, leaving the swell of your breasts, sternum, and skin down to your belly button exposed. The outlaw sucks in a deep, shuddering breath, then stalks away with a frustrated growl. 

“Barnes—” you call to him softly.

“Bucky.” He corrects.

You catch a glance at yourself in the mirror. The silk robe hangs perfectly from your curves, blood smeared across your chest and neck. You suck in your own deep breath, sweeping your hair over your shoulders as you hesitantly approach the outlaw. He paced like the beasts Elkhorn kept caged up, endlessly forced to perform for cruel crowds. You knew what he needed. A delicate touch, a sweetness to lean on. 

“Speak to me.” You whisper to him, gentle hands guiding him to the edge of your bed. The canopy was draped with deep purple fabrics, furs, and blankets over the straw mattress. He silently obliges. 

“One of my boys, one I thought I could trust. He betrayed me. Thought he could make a little gang of his own and overthrow me from the inside.” The outlaw explains. His voice is stiff, and his posture is tense. You smooth a palm over his forearm, and your thigh presses against his as you sit closely together. 

There is a distant look in his eye as he stares past you at the wall of the tent. It shifts with the cool breeze outside, rising and falling like the night itself breathes. “I dealt with it.”

You cock your head to the side, hand running up his arm as you examine his face with a frown. “Dealt with it?” 

His eyes snap to yours, and your hand wavers in hesitation. There is a darkness in his eyes. His expression made goosebumps rise across your skin. You could only explain it as something primal, something caught between violence and arousal. 

“I made them pay.” He explains, his body twisting as he faces you fully. A bloodied hand raises, his thumb rubbing across your cheek as he cradles your face. “After two days, they begged me to end it. To end their lives.”

“And did you?” You dare to whisper back. His thumb traces inward, across your lower lip. 

“No.” He says simply. “I cut out their tongues so they could no longer beg. I made them pay.”

Your eyes must have been wide in shock because he chuckled, his hand sweeping through your hair. Then, with an uncharacteristic softness to his tone, he utters a question. “Can I kiss you?”

Your heart thunders in your ears, a short gasp leaving you as your lips part. In all your travels, you have heard stories of women who could make men fall in love with them with just their eyes. Women who used their bodies and seduced their way to the top. Even violent men like Bucky had one weakness—a woman who showed them kindness. A woman who could momentarily take control. The men would let their minds drift away; the burdens were lifted, if only for a night. 

Heat pools between your legs. You nod, a hand reaching to stroke across his jaw. The two of you meet in mutual desperation and touch once gentle, now needy. His tongue brushes against your lips, effortlessly parting them as he licks into your mouth. A moan escapes your throat at the taste of his tongue.

Your hands find the front of his shirt, blindly unbuttoning as he grips your hair in one hand. The outlaw groans as his hand slides across your shoulders, pushing away the robe. Your top half is exposed, nipples have hardened, and silk has pooled at your waist. 

As your tongues tangle, Bucky tilts his head to gain better access to your mouth. Your gasps meet his as he moans heavily into your mouth. His hands trace along your body, one squeezing your waist and hips, the other coming to grasp your breast. 

With a tug, you pull his shirt free. The two of you part, your head lulling back as he paints sloopy, feverish kisses down your neck. A groan rises in your throat as you lean into him, one hand gripping his dark hair and the other beginning to palm him through his pants. 

His kisses move further down, head dipping as he licks a stripe across your breast. He takes a nipple into his mouth, kissing and sucking as you gasp and lean into him. The space between your legs is throbbing; a wet neediness rising. 

You clutch his thigh, squirming with desire. The stubble along his jaw prickles your flesh, and a shudder runs down your spine. Your hands find his, easing his grip on your hips as you slide off the bed. Lowering yourself to the floor on your knees, you sit between his legs. Bucky lets out a groan as he looks down at you. His pupils are blown, and his lips are swollen and glossy. Your hands trace up his thighs, and your quick fingers relieve him of his belt. 

“Let me.” You hum to him. You tilt your head, your cheek brushing against his knee. His adams apple bobs as he swallows hard. “I can make you feel good.”

You can see his bulge under the fabric. He eagerly helps you pull his pants down, his cock springing free already fully hard. You press a kiss to the tip. His cock twitches in response and a low moan vibrates in his chest. You look up at him through your lashes, biting your lip. He leans back, looking at the tent roof, as his chest rises and falls with a loud, satisfied sigh. 

There was a power that resonated in your chest, seeing the outlaw so vulnerable under your touch. He did not protest your lead, instead eagerly following your command. You take him into your mouth slowly, one hand running up his thigh as the other wraps around his length. 

You bob your head, feeling him tense with pleasure beneath you. As you come up, you whisper to him quietly. “Relax.”

As your tongue swirls over his tip, then down his broad length, you feel his hips rock beneath you. His hand comes to fist your hair, subtly guiding you as you take him fully into your mouth once more. You follow his needs, taking notice of each pleasured twitch or motion in response to your touch. His fingers tangle in your long locks of hair, tugging as you pull unimaginable, explicit sounds from the outlaw. 

“Fuck—” He groans above you, his breath coming in short pants. You hum in response, relishing the sensation of him falling to pieces beneath you. The spot between your legs was slick, and wetness was beginning to drip down your inner thigh. There was a selfish urge within you that desired to reach down between your legs to gift yourself some friction. 

You swallowed him down deeper, flattening your tongue against his ridgid length. His hips started to jerk, stronger than the previous gentle rocking. You could feel him growing undone, his breath coming shorter, and his nails desperately digging into your scalp as he desperately tried to guide your head deeper and deeper. 

You obliged, but only as you felt his cock twitch once more did you pull away fully. Not yet. You weren’t finished with him yet. The outlaw let out a pained grumble. His hands caressed your shoulders as you rose to your feet. 

“Darlin’—” Bucky protests, but you shush him. 

“How much do you want me, hm?” You ask him. He has propped himself up onto his elbows to look up at you. His cock was still erect, glistening in the candlelight from your saliva. 

“I want you.” He affirms.

“How desperately? Would you get on your knees for me? Beg for me?” You say it breathlessly. You take one of his hands in yours, pressing a kiss to the palm. 

His breath stutters. “Yes.” 

“Go on then.” As the words leave your mouth, your eyes flicker upwards. You look at him through your lashes.

“Please, sweetheart—” He whines. You cock your head to the side, peppering more kisses along each fingertip. 

“Louder.” 

“Please.” He begs. You smirk down at him wickedly, shifting closer. Your palm meets his chest, pushing him back down onto the bed as his elbows buckle beneath him. 

“Lie back.” You instruct, helping guide his legs so he lies flat along the bed. In one fluid motion, you straddle his waist, his silk robe still pooling around your hips. You lean over him, taking one of the waist straps of your robe. With slow breaths, you move the soft fabric across his bloodied chest, tracing each vein and muscle before finally grazing it across his nipples. He shudders beneath you, his grip bruising where he grasps your hips. 

“Say it again.” You breathe. You are embarrassingly wet as you sit perched upon him. 

“Please. I need you.” He obeys, and another wave of arousal washes over you. Only now did you give in to your selfish desires, dead rolling back as you ground your hips slowly. Your lips parted, a small mewling moan leaving you as you clenched around nothing. You flatten a hand over his chest, allowing him to help guide you as you raise onto your knees. 

With one gentle movement, you lower yourself onto him. Your wet heat engulfs him, and the two of you groan in unison. You feel yourself stretch around him, and you moan as you allow your body to take him in completely. His hands tighten their hold on your waist. 

Bucky looks at you with a slightly slack-jawed expression. “Fuck, sweetheart. I think I’m gonna make ya my wife.”

You manage a smile through your own arousal, your hand gliding up and down his chest as you move your hips in a grinding motion. You gasp out a low, “Oh yeah?”

His head tips back with a moan as you clench around him. You experiment momentarily, brows drawn and biting your lip, until you find a grinding rhythm that ignites a fire within you. Bucky meets you halfway, helping guide you with his hands still gripping your hips. Your head lulls forward, small panting gasps leaving you as your eyes squeeze shut. 

“I’ll make you beg for that too…Fuck—” You whine, and Bucky chuckles beneath you. He continues to help direct your hips, and your thighs begin to shake as you lower and raise yourself. 

A strangled cry leaves you as Bucky’s hand lowers, his thumb circling your clit. Pleasure spikes up your spine, your knees wobbling as you nearly double over at the sensation. His fingers swirl with purpose, pulling all manner of illicit words and sounds from your throat. 

“You like that, sweetheart?” Bucky hummed.

Just as you feel like sobbing from the pleasure, you cock your head to the side. With a deep breath, you tug Bucky’s shoulders, pulling him upright to meet you. The two of you clash, breath hot. His arms wrap around you, pinning you to his chest as he kisses you with a primal hunger. You moan into his mouth, your tongue sloppily moving against his as he begins to thrust vigorously. 

You could feel your climax building steadily within you, the peak of a tumbling wave that had not yet crested. Bucky was a panting, sweaty mess beneath you. He greedily kissed and sucked along your neck, head dipping as he ran his tongue along your collarbone. 

Your own head fell, teeth grazing across his neck. He tastes like salt and copper. You nuzzled your nose against his jaw, taking his earlobe between your teeth. Deep within you, you felt his cock twitch. 

You wrap your arms over his shoulders, your fingers tugging at his hair. That pulled a groan from him, the noise vibrating across your skin. With a devious smile pressed against his cheek, you lean in close to his ear. Breath hot, you whisper into his ear. 

“Come for me.”

As if he had been waiting for those exact words, he explodes within you. The sensation tips you over the edge, a thundering in your ears defeans you as your eyes roll back into your head. You clench around Bucky tightly, your body milking every last drop of him as he lazily ruts the last of his energy into you. 

The two of you pant, catching a breath as you both come to a halt. The outlaw nuzzles your neck with a content sigh, then laughs against your sweaty skin. 

“I wasn’t jokin’ earlier.” He finally speaks up, his voice somewhat more dignified now that he wasn’t a moaning mess beneath you. 

“Hm?” You respond sleepily, too fucked-out to be bothered opening your eyes. 

“I’m gonna steal ya away from here. Make ya my goddamn wife.”

Against your better judgement, you believed him.

[sunsetsimon]

Halloween Party (NSFW)

simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader nsfw

mentions of drinking alcohol, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, a little rough but nothing crazy

his gunslinger skin has had me going crazy recently. totally self indulgent.. my first time writing a full blown smut scenario in like 4 years so cut me some slack if it sucks lmao. AND SORRY ITS LATE I WAS OVERTHINKING IT TOO MUCH.

hope you enjoy!!! - sun

nsfw under the cut. mdni

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simon couldn't believe you managed to drag him to this halloween party hosted by your friends. you knew full well that simon is neither a halloween nor party guy, so this was way out of his comfort zone. but dammit... he wanted to make you happy. he knows you miss out on a lot of things because of his antisocial tendencies, and it made him feel better knowing he'd be there to protect you if anything happened, so he decided to go.

he's dressed in a gunslinger costume, full black dress attire and a red chrome mask. the bottom of his face is exposed, pale scar on his top lip barely visible. his black hat covers his eyes and he keeps his head low, not wanting to draw attention. the fabric hugs his muscles perfectly and your appetite is growing for something that isn't food. the short cape on his coat makes his shoulders broader, somehow making your boyfriend appear even bigger.

he steps to the door first, the music clearly blasting from inside, barely muffled by the thin door. giving you a nod, he opens it and you walk in, holding his hand as you lead him through the crowd.

"hey guys!!" you hear yelled over the music, turning to see your best girl friend, anna, waving at you two. she squeezes her way through the crowd, a huge smile on her face when she sees your matching outfits. simon in his costume, you in a cowgirl one. "you guys look great!" she says excitedly, giving you a quick hug and simon a wave.

simon leaves to make you both a drink while you catch up with your friend. he watches you from across the room, you look so beautiful when you laugh. with your cowgirl costume on, dressed in black shorts and a black vest top to match him, with fishnet tights and red cowgirl boots.

the night flows quickly as you get lost in the music and drinks. you chat with your friends throughout the night but make a point to stay close to simon, knowing he wanted to leave within the first ten minutes of arriving. "come with me," you say, grabbing his gloved hand and pulling him from the corner he got comfortable in.

simon huffs, following you out to the backyard, "what's out 'ere?"

you giggle, tipsy from the alcohol and feeling playful, "this is where the real fun is."

there's only a few stragglers, a couple sitting with their feet in the pool and a small group talking in the opposite corner of the yard.

pulling him to you, you push up his chrome mask to reveal his entire mouth. his lips are a soft pink, bottom one slightly plumper than the top. he hums when you kiss him, tasting the mixed drink you had been nursing for the last 15 minutes. dragging a hand slowly up your back, he holds the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair and giving a small tug.

your tongues fight for dominance but you fail when he sucks on your wet muscle, knowing that makes you weak. cupping his growing bulge, lightly massaging him through his dress pants. simon almost growls, pulling away and dragging you to the side of the house for more privacy.

throwing his hat to the ground, he kisses you hungrily, loving the way you moan into the kiss when he gives your fat ass cheek a hard squeeze. your heart is pounding, worried that anyone could turn the corner and see you two. but simon quickly swipes that thought from your mind, trailing wet kisses down your neck and across your throat. his short blonde hair tickles your chin, a small chuckle vibrating through your chest. simon's head is spinning, the desire to be inside of you too strong to wait much longer.

"bite," he orders, holding a gloved finger up to your mouth. you submit easily, teeth grabbing the tip of the fabric as he pulls it off. his bare hand gives a small pat to your cheek, "good girl."

he shoves his hand down your shorts, teasing your swollen clit through your damp panties. he rolls your sweet bud in his fingers, loving the way you mewl, gripping his shoulders hard with want. his mask is lopsided on his face, lips swollen and pink from your bites and sucks.

"f-fuck simon... let's be quick," you whine. you might be tipsy and horny, but that doesn't let you forget that you're in your friend's backyard and anyone could see you right now.

“you rushin’ me, lovie? thought you dragged me out ‘ere cause you wanted to get fucked, yeah?” simon asks, his voice thick with lust. he takes his hand out of your shorts and flips you to face the brick wall, tugging them down just past your ass. quickly working to unbuckle his belt and fetch his cock from his pants, he fucks into you with haste, groaning at the way your tight hole sucks him in.

he drags your hips further from the wall, forcing you to arch your back and lean against it with your arms. the brick scratches your skin, your body jumping with each thrust as he bullies your gummy pussy, loving the way you squeeze him when his huge cock pokes your cervix. reaching around your thigh, he tickles your swollen and aching clit. the cold pad of his fingers adds to your pleasure, mind dizzy as he fucks you expertly.

"gonna cum si-" you cry, but a hand slaps over your mouth. as if anyone could even hear you from the loud music inside. his fingers tighten, lightly squeezing your tiny face when you continue to moan and cry into his hand. hot tears of pleasure stream down your face, the knot in your stomach twisting until it finally snaps.

pussy walls clenching eagerly around him as you cum, begging for his seed. euphoria washes over you in waves, shocks shooting through your entire body, tiny clit burning from his abuse. your legs are weak, knees knocking against each other but simon pulls you back up, refusing to let you fall.

"nng- fuck. 'm so close," he heaves, his nails digging into your hips when he squeezes them hard. your whines and pulsating pussy are all he can focus on, the party a distant memory at this point. with one final push he cums, shooting his load deep into your cunt, holding you back against him to make sure you get every last drop.

"ready?" he asks after a minute and you nod. slowly withdrawing from your pussy, a trail of cum following suit. getting yourselves together, you pull up your soiled panties and shorts, cringing at the cold wetness in your pants.

"i guess we'd better say bye to anna and them," you laugh, "i need a fucking shower."

“let’s get out of ‘ere then,” simon agrees, buckling his belt and grabbing his hat before making his way back inside. he decided he needed to come to halloween parties with you more often.

[bunnyywritings]

extra credit assignment with the professor and honey bunny

PROFESSOR STEIN x F!READER

[a/n: sorry sorry! i'm falling behind...my motivation is waning BUT i am determined to finish this series so here's what should've been posted yesterday on my birthday ! professor stein will always be so fucking hot in my eyes...he can tie me down and dissect me any day lol anyways, once again: my use of the term 'little' has nothing to do with any body size or weight, this fic is also a little more on the 'plus size reader' side, sorry it just came out that way, i also dropped the ball and made him an ethics teacher instead of a bio/chem teacher like i originally thought...i blame @gojonanami and her amazing professor suguru series...i'm obsessed !!🫶🏼]

© bunnyywritings pls don't use my headers or writing without permission

wc: 3.1k words

WARNINGS: teacher/student dynamic (OF AGE), power dynamic, age gap, "shy" reader, skewed descriptions of ethics cause i googled and read like two things, sir kink, hair pulling, cowgirl, stein bends you over his desk, mating press, breeding kink, creampie, no use of y/n, reader is called: bunny, sweetheart, good girl, sweet girl, honey

“You need my measurements?” You asked, not sure if you heard him right. “What for?” 

“Well for your outfit, of course.” He chuckled, finding it amusing that you had already forgotten what the two of you had spoken about.Especially when your confusion led to a small lull of silence on the line. 

“Oh…oh right! Right, the whole school girl thing…uh okay-” You rattled them out and he wrote them down, scrolling through the website on his laptop to try and find the right look for you. 

When you two finally met, you were pleased with the tasteful outfit he had chosen. It looked like a legitimate look you’d wear to school. The light brown plaid skirt was paired with a white button up, a knit sweater vest, sheer pantyhose and brown loafers. 

He was sat behind a gorgeous mahogany desk, a small smile on his lips. “Have you ever done a scene like this?” You were flicking through the short script he had given you…more of a guideline really. 

“Uhmm n-no, not as in depth as this or with a partner. I did it for a live cam once…” You blushed, feeling somewhat insecure beneath his gaze. 

Stein was one of the more seasoned creators on the platform. His production quality was always high and his scenes balanced with both porn and plot. He was also extremely attractive. His dyed silver locks framed his face beautifully, his eyes reminded you of green sea glass as they sat behind his silver eyewear and his build…God. He was tall and lean with broad shoulders and thick arms. His hands were big, lithe fingers just the right amount of thickness, knuckles prominent against his smooth, pale skin. 

Not to mention the age gap between the two of you…the power dynamic was going to be a little more believable when he was 14 years older than you. 

“You ready, sweetheart?” 

“Mhmm, yes…Professor.” 

And so, you stepped out of his office. Standing at the door for a good minute or two before rapping your knuckles against the shining wood. 

“Come in!” His voice was muffled but you took your cue and pushed the door open, making sure to shut it softly behind you. “Ah, bunny! Come on in, have a seat.” He gestured to the cushioned seat in front of his desk. His smile was soft as you stood by the door for a few moments before finally moving. 

“R-Right. Thank you, P-Professor.” You gingerly sat in the seat, back straight and stiff as you tugged the hem of your skirt. 

“So, what brings you to my office hours, hmm?” 

“Uhm well, I-I hate to admit it but I’ve been h-having a little trouble with our uhm, our new unit…” 

“Oh! Well, no need to be embarrassed, Kantism is a challenging subject. What exactly were you having trouble with?” 

“Categorical imperatives…” You shift your eyes away, cheeks flushing. 

“I see…well-” He starts to ramble on with the definition, rubbing his chin as he did so and you found it difficult to not stare at his fingers. “-does that make sense?” 

You blink yourself out of your daze before nodding, “I-I’m following.” 

A subtle smirk tugs his lips as he continues. “Kant also says that there are three different moral actions-” You wring your hands in your lap, playing up the nervous, jumpy act. As he continues to explain how utilitarianism plays a part in this subject, you tune back in. “That should be a bit more clarifying for you.” You nodded eagerly. “Did you have any other questions? Kant or otherwise?” 

“Y-yes actually.” You bit your lip, eyes widening as you clarified. “Not-not about Kant! I uhm…I was hoping to ask about some…extra credit opportunities?” He frowned, head tilting to the side. “My uhm, my grade isn’t where I-I’d like it to be…” You trailed off, eyes dropping to read the name placard displayed on his desk. He turns to his laptop, ‘typing and scrolling’ before the tension in his forehead releases. “Ah, a B- isn’t so bad, is it?” 

“W-Well no but I…I would like to keep my grade point average and grad-graduate summa cum laude…” 

“Hmm right, right…an understandable goal.” He closed his laptop, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “Has my unit been so difficult that you’re falling behind? Is everything alright?” The slight twinge of concern in his voice made your thighs clench. Something that did not go unnoticed. 

“I’m sorry, Professor. I just seem to be dis-distracted…lately.” Your confession leaves him amused and you with bright, flushed cheeks. 

“Distracted?” He leans forward, elbows resting on the top of the desk, his chin in his palm. “I see…is it a boy, perhaps?” 

“N-No!” You grip the fabric of your skirt. “No…I uhm-I’m not seeing any-anyone.” 

His eyebrows jump. “Really? Forgive me for saying so but, surely you have boys throwing themselves at you?” 

A quiet, almost nervous laugh leaves your lips. “Yeah…n-no. Not that I’d really want the attention from guys here…guys my age, they uhm…well, they tend to be vulgar and simple minded.” 

“Hmm, yes, I suppose you’re right.” A silence lingers after his words. “A pretty, intelligent little thing like you should be treated with reverence.” 

Your eyes widen to the size of saucers, squeaking out a, “Professor…” 

“Ah right, forgive me. That was highly inappropriate”. He sighed. “So, extra credit…I usually don’t make it a habit to offer it, since students use it as an excuse to lag behind-” He catched how your lips drop into a pout, eyes glistening with unspoken pleas. “But, if you tell me what’s been so distracting as of late, maybe we can come up with a solution to help you out, hmm? You’re a bright student and I’d hate to be the reason you lose your sheen.” 

You shake your head with earnest. That’s the worst thing you could do…how could you possibly tell him that-

“There’s no need to be shy, hmm? We’re both adults here and I’ve been teaching for years, I’m sure I can stomach it.” 

You mumble out a reason, as quiet and jumbled as you could, hoping to God that he’d give up and drop the subject. Your eyes trained in your lap in fear that you might give it away. Your deepest, darkest, secret…

He stands, rounding the desk and leaning on the edge of it. Gently but firmly, he grips your chin and forces you to meet his gaze. “I’m sorry, dear. I didn’t quite catch that…” His thumb caressed the skin below your bottom lip and you had to fight the urge to tilt your head down and take his digit between your lips. 

“S’you…s-sir.”

“I’m sorry, come again?” 

“It’s you, s-sir!” And oh, the way your lips wrapped around the honorific made his dick twitch against his slacks. 

“Is that right?” He felt like a fox playing with his dinner, the way your wide eyes stared up into his, begging to be devoured whole. 

“Y-yes…” 

He gripped your chin tighter, ignoring the whine that left your throat as he growled a hoarse. “Yes, what?”

“Yes sir!” 

“Hmm good…” He sneered. “What exactly is it about me that’s so distracting?” He hummed, removing his hand from your chin, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Y-You can’t ask-ask me something like that…”

He chuckled, “Of course I can…and I expect an answer.” His eyes darkened lustfully. “So tell me, bunny. What’s distracting?” 

You fidgeted in your seat, fingers clenching the fabric of your skirt again. “Uhm…y-your voice…your hands-” 

He found it hard to resist a scoffed laugh and in the blink of an eye he stood behind you, leaned over just above your shoulder. “You like my voice?” His lips brushed against the shell of your ear, his silky voice sending shivers down your spine and a rush of heat to your core. “Do you rewatch my lectures when you’re in your room? Touch that pretty pussy to the sound of my voice, hmm?” His lips pressed a feather light kiss behind your ear as you whined and as he trailed down your neck, the messier they got. His lips were surprisingly soft, massaging the sensitive skin at the hollow of your neck. 

You tilted your head back against his shoulder, opening yourself up to him. “Why don’t you show me.” He reached around the sides of the chair and roughly gripped your thighs watching as your flesh squished between his fingers, splitting your legs open for him and before you could even think to protest, a loud rip! filled the office. He had torn the crotch of your sheer pantyhose to reveal your soaked panties. “Is this all for me? You’re soaked…” He tsked, pushing your panties aside and tugging your folds open, caressing your pulsing clit with barely there touches. 

“Mhmm, all-all for you, sir…s’yours, all yours.” You keened at his gentle touches, hips twitching and desperate for more friction. 

“Then be a good girl and show me how you touch yourself to my voice.” You replaced your hands with his, starting to circle your bud in slow, soft circles, a drawn out moan leaving your glossed lips. 

“Good girl…” He purred. “Now suck on my fingers, show me how much you love my hands…that’s it.”

You wrapped your lips around his fingers, tongue swirling around his cold digits in earnest before taking them deeper into your mouth, gagging softly when his fingertips met the back of your throat before pulling back and taking them back in.

As you began to bob your head on his fingers, he couldn’t help pawing himself through the front of his gray slacks. His precum, no doubt staining the front of the fabric. “Oh look at you! Such a shy and prude girl, getting herself off while choking on her Professor’s fingers…fuck.” Your thighs twitched as you neared your first orgasm, sucking on his fingers bringing you more arousal than you thought possible. 

“Don’t even think about it.” He almost snarled, shoving his fingers roughly to the back of your throat. Your shoulders jolting as a particularly harsh gag wracked through your body. “Put your hands by your side.” Reluctantly, you did as instructed and he pulled his fingers from your mouth, giving your poor lungs a reprieve. 

As you attempted to catch your breath, he wrapped your hair around his fingers and pulled roughly, the action pulling you up from your seat before he was shoving you towards his desk. “Ahh! P-Professor!” With his fist still tugging at your locks, he bent you over and pushed your head down against the desk, your cheek landing harshly on a notebook and a few stray papers. 

“I’ve got to say…you’ve been quite the distraction as well. Always sitting in the front of my class, chewing on your lips or your pens-” He unbuckled his belt, popping his trousers open and letting them drop down around his thighs. “Always in your cute little outfits and short skirts.” He flipped your skirt over your ass. “I’ve dreamed of having you bent over my desk, creaming all over my cock.” He stroked himself a few times before tapping his heavy tip against your stocking covered ass. 

Not being able to help it, you wiggle your hips tauntingly. He groaned, “Oh just look at you…” He muttered before grasping the base of his cock and lining himself up with your entrance.

Your nails dug into the wood of the desk as he pushed himself in. Entranced with the way you seemed to be sucking him in, inch by agonizing inch, your poor pussy being stretched to accommodate his girth. You tried to push yourself further up the desk in an attempt to get respite from his sweltering length. 

“Nuh uh…don’t run, sweet girl. Don’t run…” He roughly gripped your hips and pulled you back onto him, sheathing himself entirely in your warm, gummy walls. “Stay right there.” 

Stein was brutal, bullying his dick into you repeatedly, meeting your womb in a deliciously painful kiss so much so that you lost track of time. “S’too much! T-Too…much!” 

Completely ignoring your cries, he snapped his hips once more and stilled them against your behind, pulling you with him as he sat in the chair you had been previously sitting in, situating you on his lap.“You wanted extra credit, right?” 

“Y-Yes sir…but-” 

“Then put in the work, bunny.” He brought his hand down in a rough slap against your ass cheek. “Show me how much you deserve that A.” 

Arching your back, you leaned forward and rested your hands on the tops of his thighs. Taking a deep breath, you lifted yourself slowly. Making it only halfway up before dropping yourself back down. It only took two thrusts before your legs were threatening to give out. The pleasure was overwhelming, Steins low moans and grunts only adding fuel to the fire. 

“S-Stein! I’m- M’gonna…!” You dropped back down on his length, back hunching over as your orgasm ripped through your entire body, mind reeling as you completely forgot to play up the whole ‘sir’ thing while Stein’s grip tightened around your waist so you didn’t fall over. 

Stein brushed your hair over your shoulder, pressing gentle kisses to the nape of your neck, tongue licking up the salty perspiration gathered there. “Shhh…shh, that’s a good girl…I made you feel that good, hmm?” 

A delirious giggle left your lips as you let Stein pick you up, inhaling sharply as he pulled out of you, your release dripping down his, still painfully hard, cock and onto the trimmed blonde hair at its base. 

Gaining a second wind, you shoved his name placard and a few other things aside before sitting on his desk, reaching for the hem of your sweater vest and tugging it off over your head along with your button up shirt and mindlessly tossing it aside. He watched hungrily as you kicked off your skirt and widened your thighs, the heels of your loafers resting on the edge of his desk. Your folds were dripping with arousal, your skin flushed and puffy as you clenched around nothing. 

“C’mon Professor, don’t keep your favorite student waiting…” 

Scoffing, he shrugged his tweed jacket off and you started to salivate. His mock neck shirt was short sleeved and tight. Almost like it was painted on him. His biceps bulged deliciously against the thin fabric, the urge to run your tongue across the veins running down his arms was strong but you held onto whatever self control you had left and waited for him to make his way between your legs. 

“And who said you were my favorite student?” A wet slap! slap! echoed his words as he tapped his tip against your clit. 

“You do this with all your students then?” You whined. “That’s no fair…” A pout tugged at your lips. 

He laughed softly, leaning down to capture your lips in a tender embrace, biting your bottom lip before pulling away. “I’m just teasing, bunny. You are, by far, my favorite…student.” He punctuated his statement by snapping his hips forward and burying himself into your sloppy core. 

“Ah-!” You lost your balance and landed onto the desk with a soft thump against the wood. He gripped the bottom of your thighs and pushed your legs up and folding you in half, straight into a mating press. The fabric of your pantyhose tightening against your skin.

His desk creaked with each of his heavy thrusts, scraping against the hardwood floor once or twice. “God, it was like this cunt was made for me! She’s swallowing me up so well…so warm…n’wet!” 

Your eyes rolled back in your head, the press he had you in made it feel like he was quite literally rearranging your insides, your mind quickly growing fuzzy and clouded with thoughts of his huge, thick cock and the way his scent enveloped you entirely as he leaned over to plant kisses down your neck, no doubt sucking marks into it. 

Stein felt himself twitch inside you as he gazed down at you. Your face was screwed up in pleasure, lips glossy with spit and parted as moans and whimpers fell from your lips. “Let me see those pretty eyes, honey. Come on.” Your eyelids fluttered open, lined with tears and the pretty color of your iris was swallowed up by your blown out pupils, hazy with euphoria. 

He shifted your hips and slipped deeper into you, if it was even possible, and found that spot that made you see stars. You fought to keep your eyes on him as you became consumed by one thing only. Your second orgasm. 

“Fuck…I-” He whimpered as you clamped down around him. “I-I’m gonna cum…” He groaned, attempting to keep a steady pace to bring you over the edge with him. “Where-?” He grunted, choked with pleasure. 

“Inside me, please! I want- fill me up, sir…p-please -!” Your mouth dropped open in a silent scream, your release shaking your body, thighs burning as your legs shook. Overstimulation creeping up on you as he chased his end. 

“Want me to breed this pretty little cunt? Huh? Make you a momma for extra credit?”

“Y-Yes! Yes!” You started to babble, a few tears slipping down your cheeks. 

His moans became hoarse, desperate whimpers, hips twitching before he stilled in you. Balls tightening as he emptied his load into you. A full, warm feeling taking over your body as your chest heaves to catch your breath. 

He pulled out with a hiss, watching his spend trickle out of you before fucking it back into you with his fingers, laughing softly as you whimpered. Your hips twitch to get away from him, and he apologizes. 

“M’sorry bunny, don’t want it to go to waste…” He then eased your legs down around his waist, massaging his fingertips into your tense skin. He watched in amusement as you leaned forward, lips pursed subtly and he met your lips. Exchanging a few kisses before easing you to sit up and wrapping his arms around you, cuddling you into his chest.

“I’d say that’s earned you an A+...” 

You cackled against his chest. “Yeah, it better have.” 

subscribers:

@seireiteihellbutterfly @xxstarlightxx @indieburn

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Hit ‘Em Up! (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Cowboy!Gojo Satoru x Cowboy!Geto Suguru x Black!Cowgirl!Reader (Slow Burn/Enemies to Lovers)

Synopsis: You get to meet Geto & Gojo the Gunslingers, the notorious outlaws that have every town and law enforcement in a twist, when your bum-ass BF offers you as payment to avoid going to prison. Little do they know that this is only a part of your plan to get what you desire. But when you realize that the infamous gun-slinging, smooth-talking cowboys could be everything you want and more when they offer you a deal to team up with them, will you successfully be able to go through with it? 

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINOS GTFO); poly!SatouSugu; Reader is Black & Fem; Mention of other JJK characters; Porn with Plot; Tragic Backstories; T/W for Childhood Trauma, Parental Death, Violence, Panic Attacks & Torture; Angst/Hurt/Comfort; Hand Kink; Masturbation; Voyeurism; Gay Sex; Polyamorous; Double Deepthroat; Mutual Oral; Fingering; CMNF; Spitroast; Riding; Unprotected PiV Sex; Creampies; Outside/Public Sex; Shotgunning; Multiple Positions; Spit Kink; Facials; MDom/fsub Undertones; Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen PT I & II. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-One. Twenty-Two. Twenty-Three. Epilogue. Soundtrack.

********

TWO: G & G.

You know that there are those in the world who strike fear into people’s hearts and souls.

But you’ve never seen anyone react to a single human being the way they do the duo that struts into the bar in their leather cowboy boots. 

You’ve never seen the saloon so quiet and still before then when the duo steps into the scene. A tumbleweed could blow by with how silent it is.

Everyone’s eyes stay planted on the tall, handsome men oozing with confidence and intimidation standing among the swinging doors, appearing like sexy phantoms in the night.

There stands Geto Suguru, the 6’4 long-haired gunslinger with the perfect, black locks that cascade down his broad shoulders and back, seductive eyes, and skillful hands that he hides behind two riding gloves.

He usually is seen riding a black Bronco that is just as big as him and sporting a black cape with black riding pants, boots, and a low-brim cowboy hat. Black fits him so damn well. The only thing that isn’t black on him is the red vest that is so low-cut that you can see the outline of his pecs. 

Beside him is his partner (and lover as it’s rumored) Gojo Satoru, the lean, confident, cocky, blindfolded bandit standing at 6’3 with snow-white hair, a sly smile, leather gloves that hide some skillful and deadly hands, and a blindfold covering his eyes that have never been seen but are said to make a man go cold with fear where he stands.

In contrast to Geto, the white-haired cowboy is doused in colors: a denim jacket that matches his slacks where a star-shaped belt buckle hangs from his crotch; brown boots with spurs; a red bandana wrapped around his neck; and a white cowboy hat sits low on his head. He, too, has his own horse: a brown Bronco that is recognizable from its hooves clicking across the ground.  

They are a match made in heaven and hell. Handsome, skillful, and deadly. They are known for their impressive yet terrifying speed when it comes to cocking and shooting their pistols. You’ve heard of them killing all kinds of wanted criminals and even other gunslingers in other counties.

Everyone knows them and so do you. 

If a record was playing, the damn thing would be scratching by now with the way the saloon reacts to seeing the gunslingers in the flesh. Whispers begin to rise from the silence, including from Yuki, Mai, and Maki who have wandered over. “Oh, my God,” Mai gasps. “It’s the Gunslingers!” 

“What the hell are they doin’ here?” Maki wonders aloud, peering at them from behind her spectacles. “Are they lookin’ for someone? I thought they had been arrested!” 

And they did, last year. At some point, the articles of gunslingers, corporation owners, and high rollers found dead with bullets in them and a note from “G & G” left at the scene stopped when they were arrested after that train heist. And you know it has everything to do with their connection to your boss. 

“Who cares?” Yuki dreamily sighs as she stares at the gunslingers with heart eyes. “I get to admire them in person now! Aren’t they delicious?” 

“Keep it in your pants, Yuki,” Choso grumbles, tugging on a lock of the blonde’s hair as she giggles. “They ain’t even all that.” 

“Of course not,” Yuki purrs, making Choso blush. “Not above you, Chosi, but a cowboy hat would do you so well!”

Even you will admit that the “wanted dead or alive” posters don’t do them justice: they are fine as all hell, straight out of a woman’s wet dreams. But they are also outlaws. And you despise outlaws…for personal reasons. 

The duo begins to look around the silent saloon, Gojo’s head slowly turning despite his blindfold. When his head turns toward you, you feel as if the air has been stolen from your very lungs. Despite the fabric covering his eyes, you feel as if he sees you. All of you. 

Gojo nudges Geto with his elbow before waltzing over to the bar, his boots thudding across the hardwood floor. Geto follows, ignoring the whispers and stares in their wake. The piano has begun to pick up again, but it does nothing to ease the tension swimming in the air. Quickly, you turn to face your drink while the girls scatter to work, leaving you to fend for yourself. 

Geto sits on the stool beside you while Gojo takes the one beside him. You feel the air around you become stiff and tense as the cowboys settle into their seats. “So what’s a cowboy gotta do to get a drink round here?” Gojo asks with a smirk. “Can ya help a guy out, miss?”

He gives Shoko a flirty look, not knowing that this girl is gay as hell. “I could damn sure try,” she replies, barely giving him a smile. “What will you fellas have?” 

“I’ll take a Long Island iced tea,” Gojo says then laughs. “Just kiddin’! A beer, please.”

Geto takes a moment to examine the shelves of alcohol behind Shoko. He then looks at your pretty drink. “I’ll take what the lady is havin’,” he answers. “Actually, what is that you got there, miss?” 

His dark, enchanting eyes meet yours and you ignore the butterflies they invoke inside of you. “Whiskey smash,” you blandly reply.

He hums thoughtfully at the name. “Hm…is it good?” You tick your eyes at him briefly, secretly admiring his features. “If you like your whiskey with some sweetness to it, sure.”

A slow smirk appears on his face. “Oh, I definitely do,” he drawls. “I like sweetness with my everything.��� 

You swallow hard, so sure you have a cherry pit in your throat. Gojo chuckles from beside his partner, flashing you a white-toothed smile. “Oooh, me too. I’ll third that order, ma’am!” Shoko nods and shoots you a look before wandering off to fix the drinks. 

You do your best to keep calm and act normal, sipping your drink and trying to relax. At some point, the silence becomes thicker, prompting one of the gunslingers to speak on it. “Welcomin’ place,” Gojo sniggers. “I feel so at home.”

Geto quietly chuckles from between you and Gojo. “Let’s just settle, Satoru. We won’t be here long.” 

‘Settle what?’ you wonder, but you know that they are here for Kento. Shoko comes back with the frothy, red drinks, lowering them in front of the gunslingers. 

“Thank you kindly,” Gojo chirps before taking a sip. Geto nods his thanks but doesn’t drink his right away. Instead, he goes into his pocket and retrieves a folded piece of paper. He unfolds it and slides it across the bar to Shoko. “I don’t suppose you know who this guy is,” he says. 

You peek down at the paper, finding it to be a “Wanted” poster with your BF and boss looking back at you. Kenzo aka “Valentine” looks much different than when you met him. On the poster, he is clean and shaven, has longer, shaggier hair, and has a distinguished scar on his left eye.

But of course, this is the gunslinger who robbed people blind and just pulled a train heist and massacre in the town of Cherrywood a year before with his crew, Geto, and Gojo. The man who takes his place now is Kenzo, a humble saloon owner who sometimes dabbles in illegal activity to fund his saloon.  

Valentine, a criminal on the lamb and your outlaw boyfriend, is known for using his looks, charm, and violence to get what he wants. He is a man who loves money, women, and jewels. As a notorious criminal and outlaw, he has bounced from place to place, county to county, robbing folks and then laying low before starting again. 

He was arrested for robbing the Cherrywood regional train and having his crew massacre all of its employees and riders before you met him. Originally, he was given a fifty-year sentence but escaped after serving five weeks just by seducing a male prison guard and then knocking him out to steal the cell keys. 

You were hot on his trails when he showed up Blackwater a year later and met you in a whorehouse that you purposely took a job in since he frequented those. He took one look at you and immediately fell in love with you (and your body), proposing you a job at his saloon. “You could be mine,” he told you. “My girl.” You agreed and the rest is history. 

“I’ve heard of him, yes,” Shoko replies as she cleans a glass. 

“Is it possible you’ve seen him around?” Geto ponders aloud. “I don’t know if you’re aware, but he escaped Cherrywood a year ago after robbin’ a train and massacrin’ everyone in it. He’s wanted in about nine different counties.”

Shoko takes another brief look at the poster before someone flags her down from down at the bar. Saved by the bell. “I can’t say I have seen him, fellas,” she apologetically says. “‘Scuse me.” 

She hurries off, leaving you with the two cowboys. “How about you, ma’am?” Geto asks, passing the poster to you. “You recognize this face by any chance?” You look down, studying Valentine’s face.

You have, but first, you need to read these guys. “I’ve seen him in the posters, but not in person. May I ask why you two are here?” 

You keep it casual and curious, making sure you don’t sound too suspicious. “We were paid by a private source to track down Valentine for his crimes,” Geto vaguely explains. 

“And for personal business,” Gojo adds with a smirk. “You see, we were in, uh…business with Valentine some time ago and never got our cut.”

He doesn’t need to go any more into detail than that. You know exactly what he’s talking about. “We don’t like bein’ played with,” he says, his voice dipping an octave, sending a chill down your spine. “Or when someone’s money is funny, so we came here to exchange words with him.” 

‘Words or bullet?’ you want to ask, but you instead bite your tongue and sip your drink. 

“We’ve been told he was last seen in this town,” Geto explains. “We figured everyone comes to saloons so why not check here?” He slides the poster away from you, a kind yet flirty smile crossing his beautiful face. “But even if he isn’t, we can still enjoy a drink with a pretty lady.” 

You roll your eyes, having heard that line before. “Does that line work with all the girls?” you scoff. Gojo coughs up his whiskey as he laughs, but Geto doesn’t take it to heart. In fact, he chuckles.  “I see not with you,” he replies. 

“I like that,” Gojo states once he’s recovered, his blindfolded eyes set dead on you. “You’ve gotta be the first person who isn’t scared of us or tryin’ to jump in bed with us.”

You passively shrug, twirling your tongue around the rim of the glass. “I’ve been around gunslingers in my time.” 

At this, the duo share a look unbeknownst to you, quite interested in the pretty thing sitting with them at the bar. “Oh, really?” Gojo drawls and you realize your mistake. “Any of these encounters you’d care to share, little lady? I’m quite interested.”

Geto nods, his gaze like molten fire. “I am too.” 

You suddenly feel your mouth grow dry and your cheeks become hot. Your body reacts in a way it never has with any man you’ve been with, not even your first love! The way they continue to stare at you, giving you their undivided and unwanted attention, is even worse.

What is wrong with you?

Luckily, your boss comes to the rescue, barreling up to the bar like he wasn’t watching the duo from afar and shaking in his boots. 

“Oh, gentlemen!” he shouts, giving them both a hard, eager handshake. “Welcome, welcome! Can I offer you two another drink or a dance free of charge?”

Gojo ignores him like he isn’t even talking, leaving Geto to handle this. “Thanks, but no thanks,” he says, plastering on a kind smile. “We’re here for some information about him.” 

He passes Kenzo the poster and you watch in real time as the color in your boyfriend’s face drains. “Have you seen this guy anywhere?” Geto asks, squinting at him.

Gojo peers at him from under his hat, his stare intense even with the blindfold covering his eyes. Kenzo clears his throat and leans in to whisper to Geto. You pretend to ignore them though you secretly strain to hear. “Let’s talk in private,” he whispers. “Even the walls have ears, I’m afraid.” 

Geto nods and nudges to Gojo who sighs and downs the rest of his drink. To your shock, Geto puts a hand out to you for a shake. Though hesitantly, you take his hand and feel the room grow hotter than a sauna when he places a gentle kiss on your knuckles. “It was a pleasure meetin’ you, ma’am,” he softly says. “Hopefully, we’ll cross paths again.” 

His eyes gleam as he tips his hat at you, leaving Gojo to follow Kenzo upstairs. Gojo doesn’t follow right away, instead digging into his pocket for some coins and placing them on the bar in front of you. “For your drinks and yours,” he says with a crooked smile. “Have a good night, little miss.” 

Then, just like Geto, he leaves as if he didn’t just steal the air you breathe with it. It takes a moment to get your head back, but once you do, you down the rest of your drink and get up from your seat. Shoko catches your eye and gives you a look, her eyes telling you a message: 

“Don’t get caught,” she warns you. “And don’t get killed.” 

You nod, blowing her a kiss, before following your boss and the duo upstairs.

[thatwriterchick222]

take a seat (arthur morgan x f/reader) oneshot

summary: arthur wants you to ride his thigh :)

a/n: this is an older one but i wanted to post the full thing here

NSFW under the cut ;))))

------------

Arthur spread his legs as he sat in the chair, his hands laid casually on his belt. Your mouth went dry as you stared at him.

He patted his thigh gently with his other hand.

“Sit.” He spoke gruffly, his voice suspiciously low and deep within his chest. You felt a jolt of electricity go straight to your-

“What?” You asked, trying to discern whether he was serious or not. His eyes were shielded by the brim of his hat, a small smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“If you’re so desperate…” He shifted in his seat slightly, his knee bouncing as if he were getting impatient with you. Then, he gestured ever so slightly to his thigh again with a nod of his head. “Ride it.”

All the air left your lungs as you processed what he said. “I-” “We don’t got all night, darlin’.”

###

Your nails dug into the rough leather of his vest, hands planted firmly on his shoulders as you panted. His eyes were fixated on yours, his eyebrows knit tightly together as he watched you move, your soaked cunt dragging deliciously against his leather chaps. You could tell he was getting just as much out of this– if not more– from how he stared at you, his blue irises occasionally flicking down to look at the way you ground your hips down on him. His hands were firm on your waist, yet loose enough that you were still forced to do all the work, his gloves snaking up under your skirt and kneading the flesh of your thighs.

He was rock hard too, your knee brushed up against his bulge and he groaned, his fingers tightening around you. You were starting to think this was more of a punishment for him than for you… at least you were getting off, he was fucking aching in the constraints of his pants.

You ground down again, your sensitive bundle of nerves gliding seamlessly against the leather… you were dripping, and you could already imagine what his thigh would look like once you stood up.

“Look at you go.” He teased, noticing that you were out of breath, your body shaking every now and again from overstimulation. You tried to scoff, but it only came out as a desperate cry, your hand sliding up to the back of his neck and running your fingers through his hair.

“Shut up.” You breathed, clenching your abdomen as you hit a particularly good spot.

Then, his hand left your waist, casually reaching up and plucking his hat off of his head.

And then he placed it down on yours, smirking.

You laughed as it fell over your eyes, the thing way too big, and you ceased your movements to push it further up on your head.

“Am I a cowgirl, now?” Your heart pounded as you adjusted yourself, letting your muscles rest for a moment. You were fucking throbbing, you could feel each beat of your heart in your core that was smothered against his thigh. You wondered if he could feel it too.

“My cowgirl.” He said, his eyes confidently drifting down to your lips. You reached forward and brushed your hand through his hair, pushing the locks away from his face.

And then you leaned in partially, leaving barely an inch of space in between each of your faces, lips parted, breathing heavily. “You’re my cowboy, then..” You whispered.

You swore he let out a snarl as he grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you in for a kiss, his lips taking yours with such fervor you felt your whole body jerk towards him. Your teeth gnashed together roughly, and your hands scrambled for purchase anywhere you could find, his shoulders, his chest, his face.

The hat fell off of your head and landed somewhere on the floor below, but you didn’t have time to react, his tongue feverishly breaching your lips and entangling with yours. You had completely forgotten you were leaking all over his thigh until he suddenly grabbed your hips and slowly thrust his leg forward, causing you to bounce as your cunt dragged along him again.

“Fuck.” You yelped into his mouth, and he caught your lip with his teeth before repeating the motion, almost knocking the wind out of your lungs. That exquisite familiar heat shot up your spine, and you remembered how sensitive you were.

“What? Can’t handle it, darlin’?” He cocked his head to the side, and you bit down on your lip, grinding on his thigh once again. It felt like fucking heaven… his warm leg and his muscles clenching below you as you rode him…

You didn’t know what it was– either the fact that you were using him like a toy for your pleasure, his thigh just a stagnant object for you to use as you please, or because he was letting you. Just watching you use him as a means to come, your cunt fucking quivering against him with pure need– him laying back and watching you do all the work, your hips moving with long, tired grinds.

You were close, it snuck up on you as he moved his leg again in time with your desperate grinds. Your hands grabbed his shoulders again to hold yourself up, your hips so tired and aching, yet your body so close to orgasm you genuinely could not stop moving… it was simply not an option, that burning, seeping sensation inside you just becoming too good.

You whined as you bent down, pressing your forehead into his shoulder as well, your limbs shaking with each slow drag of your cunt along his thigh. His hands began to grip your hips tighter, helping you now, moving his leg slowly.

“I’m so close, Arthur.” You cried out in between shaky breaths, feeling tears welling in your eyes from how slowly your orgasm was building. If only he was just fucking you, you thought, imagining how incredible it would feel to have his cock inside you then, instead of your painfully slow movements.

“I know, I gotcha.” He said softly, and you swallowed thickly from how endearing he sounded.

You moaned against him, finally bringing yourself closer and closer to the edge, his strong arms helping just enough for you to continue despite your body giving up on you. You must have been dripping down his thigh at that point, lewd wet noises coming from where you desperately rubbed yourself on him like a dog in heat.

Finally, your body was rewarding you, and you could feel the familiar warmth spreading through your stomach, your cunt clenching against him, moans getting higher and higher as you felt the breath leaving your lungs.

“I’m gonna-” You couldn’t finish your sentence, your mouth agape, orgasm creeping up on you ever so slowly. It felt so good, you couldn’t think, all that you could register was your heat on his clothed thigh, his hands on your hips, and his voice in your ear.

Finally, finally… the coil snapped, and with one last exhausted grind of your hips, you let go, shuddering around him as you tried your best to ride it out.

“That’s a girl… Make a mess on me, darlin’…” He spoke softly, rambling as he held you and watched you come on his thigh like it was your life’s purpose. It was so satisfyingly humiliating, his deep voice rumbling in his chest and your excruciating whines as you did what he said… you made a mess on him. His name spilled from your lips as you let yourself fully feel it, your cunt quivering and clenching around nothing. You hoped he could feel it too.

You drew in a sharp breath once you realized you had been holding it, your body hot and sticky with sweat as you regained your composure. You lifted your head from his shoulder and were met with a shit-eating grin on Arthur’s face, his eyes ravaging you as if you were the most beautiful thing on earth.

“What?” You asked, your voice raspy and your breaths heavy. Your body felt like jelly, wobbly, and light.

“Nothin’.”

You sat up further, a jolt of pain and pleasure running through you from your oversensitive cunt. Your breaths were finally beginning to slow, yet you were scared to get up in fear of how much of a mess you actually made.

“I can’t believe I just did that.” You blushed, hands rushing to cover your face.

Arthur ran his hand down your thigh gently. “I can. It was the most beautiful thing I ever saw.”

“Shut up.” You laughed, letting one of your hands travel to jaw, stroking the stubble there.

You let your hands fall and you leaned back slightly, lifting your skirt to see the aftermath of your actions.

Arthur looked down too, and you gasped, throwing your head back and laughing at the massive wet spot on his thigh. He chuckled. “I’m glad I wore leather.”

“Hold on.” You giggled, finally standing up on shaky knees. “I’ll get a cloth.”

You began to dismount from his leg, but his hands flew to your sides, holding you there.

You looked at him in confusion. “What?”

He grabbed your wrist and brought your hand to the massive bulge in his pants. Your eyes widened as you felt it, palm running across it. How could you forget?

Arthur smirked. “I ain’t done with you yet.”

[astroboots]

Don't they know it's the end of the world

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader

Summary: There are many things Joel would like to forget, you hope you're not one of them.

Rating: Explicit. I just want to fuck old man Joel.

Content: hurt/comfort, explicit sex-town, cowgirl position yee-ha, post-apocalyptic angst and jazz. Mentions of death, blood and gore, but the real warning all along was emotionally unavailable men.

Word Count: 3.5k

Astroboot’s Masterlist 

The thing that nobody warned you about living in a post-apocalyptic world (to use the dramatic phrase) is that when the world as you know it has ended. When an unprecedented catastrophe transforms the very fabric of your reality. In the midst of abandoned cities, dilapidated high-rise buildings overrun with moss and ivy, and rusted cars forsaken on the highway. This horrific new world of unending horrors, at some point, with enough days gone by, becomes common place.

After the first and second year, you're no longer bothered by the constant aches and how everything hurts, everywhere all the time. The new bruises that spring up overnight to replace old healing, because sleeping on concrete and dirt will do that to you, isn't as overwhelming. You barely mind the constant blunt ache in your lower back from unloading crates anymore. Or the way your feet are always blistering and covered in callouses that crack and split and bleed. It's all background noise.

After the third and the fourth, you're no longer dry-heaving at the burnt metallic smell of charred flesh and human hair that reminds you of melted and burnt plastic when they're tossed into fire. Your sense of smell dull to it.

After the fifth year you think that hollow feeling in your chest of missing home, is no longer a constant. At most it comes to you in glimpses. Because sure, there are a million and one things you still miss. The sweetness of cereal soaked in milk. The lingering smell of peonies from your shampoo after a steaming shower. The way your cat used you as a headrest while watching TV.

You miss cupcakes. You miss the cinema. You miss pumpkin lattes. You miss the forest ground covered in auburn leaves in the fall. You miss your mom. You miss--

You miss a lot of things. Small little things, and you remember each one of them despite the years that passes.

But the mind adapts. It doesn't consume you with a hollowness that makes you burst into tears at any given moment anymore. Humans are nifty like that. Our brains rewire to accept the new realities and life just goes on somehow.

You accept the military surveillance. Of men in vests and gear, wearing blank expressions, with rifles slung across their shoulders like it were backpacks, ready to use them at the slightest provocation if you so much as dared to cough in their presence.

You get used to cracking jokes about priests walking into bars, while burying your dead, not because you're unfeeling, or not understanding of the graveness of what you're doing, but because the human mind cannot be relentlessly scared and sad and depressed and unhappy without reprieve.

Instead like much else, that seems horrific and world-ending at first, it becomes background noise.

---

"Uno," you announce as you drop the last card in the pile of red, blue and green cards in front of him.

Joel scowls, that furrowed wrinkle between his brow carves deep with displeasure.

"You're cheating. I've never played this game where stacking is allowed. The correct rule is no stacking."

This again. You scoff. This topic of conversation comes up every now and then (everytime he loses in fact) because the two of you has solely been relyng on your memory to reconstruct the rules given that the manual to the pack of cards were lost long ago.

"I'm not having this argument with you again Joel, I've told you. The rules allow stacking, you're misremembering it."

You shake your head at him and smile. He doesn't smile back. He never really does. Instead he folds his arms across his wide chest, leaning back as he appraises you with skepticism.

"What if you've forgotten the rules?"

"I don't forget things, I'm not you" you say lightheartedly.

He's already passed out when you let yourself in through the front door tonight.

It's a sparse apartment, like all the other accommodations in the area. The mismatched dining chairs and fold up table is not much to look at, but there are still hints of the family who had made this place their home before they had to leave it. The feminine touch of flowery rose wallpapers. Scribbled markers of their children's height year by year. The claw-marks of a dog by the front door.

If Joel left tomorrow, you don't think it would tell much of a story of him or the life you lead together. The only thing that's his besides the radio and music catalog is the blue butterfly sticker that sparkles on the window.

And even with that, you don't quite know what story it is meant to tell or why he'd put it up. You only know it wasn't there when he moved it because it appeared out of nowhere after Tommy left. It clashes with the rest of the decor. Something that belongs to a young girl's bedroom and not a grumpy former veteran addicted to painkillers. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to put one plus one together and deduce it's something of sentimental value to him.

It's always confounded you, because that is so unlike the man you know.

Unlike you, Joel forgets. He makes it his mission to forget. Expired opioids from god knows how long, you're surprised they don't crumble into dust when they're exposed into open air.

There are horrors in his memories that Joel wants wiped clean, and he doesn't care if the good memories go with them, as long as he doesn't have to look at them in the broad daylight.

You never said anything about it, don't pry and you don't ask questions. You don't ask him for anything period. You just let him be and take him as he is. You suspect that that's why he's allowed himself to keep you around for so long.

The room is dimly illuminated from the night light has been left on for you, and you try to be quiet as you make your way to him on the bed. He's lying curled up on his side, back turned to you.

Broad shouldered as he is, with a build that reminds you of a bear at times, in this position, there's something vulnerable about him right now that's reserved for your eyes only. His face is no longer tense, against the amber hue that bathes the room. The specks of grey and white in his beard, soft to the touch.

He's half-dragged into consciousness as you dip your knee into the mattress, as he lifts the tattered, moth-eaten quilt and makes space for you.

Reaching behind you, you kill the light. Then you wrap your one arm over his waist, tucking one leg between his thick and firmer ones. He sighs into his pillow and leans into your touch.

There are things that you know Joel wants to forget, you would like to believe that this won't become one of them.

"Are you awake?" he murmurs against the nape of your neck. His voice is gravelly and worn with sleep.

You open your eyes and the world greets you with darkness. It's too early to be awake at this ungodly time.

His chest is pressed up against your back, warm and firm, and you hum in reply. "Barely."

You nuzzle into the scratchy linen of your pillow, inhaling deeply to relax back into sleep. But Joel isn't turning back around. He's still behind you, almost hovering above you as if he wants to tell you for something, but doesn't.

You raise yourself slightly, reaching over the nightstand to flicker on the small lamp there.

Turning back towards him, you observe him for a moment. The slight sheen of sweat pooled in the hollow of his throat. His eyes wide and alarmed, hands closed into a tight fist into the sheets. His whole body is wired for a fight, even though he's just woken up and it's dead quiet in the still of the night without a threat.

"Did you have a nightmare?" you finally ask.

His jaw tightens at your question, which is as good of an indicator as any that he doesn't want to answer. Also a good indicator that he did have one.

You sigh, reaching your hand back to trail the soft hairs at the back of his neck. Flattening the curly ends with your fingers, and trying to comb it down in a gesture to soothe him the way others used to do for you in a different life and another world. It's a mistake.

He flinches at the touch, and stiffens awkwardly in front of you. Like he's trying to decide what's the right next course of action. To apologize or to turn back around and pretend he didn't do what he just did.

You frown at him, but say nothing. You give him the time to find his words.

"Can we just--" he starts, but his words trail off, eyes barely meeting yours. Silently pleading for you to know what he's asking for so he doesn't have to put them into words.

Joel doesn't really do softness. Doesn't accept comfort. Doesn't trust it.

But there are things that he wants, because he's only human after all. A touch, a warm body to lose himself in, a human connection. It's what everyone of us wants.

But he can't ask for it. Can't say it.

The moment he puts words it, he would have to name it. What this thing is, between the two you that you have. Where at the end of the day you return to his apartment. Where you sleep in his bed. Where he worries if you don't.

If he asks you for this, then he can't pretend there's nothing there anymore.

So you don't say anything. You don't needle him into finishing his sentence. Don't ask him what he means. You don't ask him for anything. Instead you nod.

His face shifts, the stiff crease between his brows smooths in relief and he scoots forward, chest draped flush against your back. He's already hard, the familiar thick girth pressed to your tailbone, like it's trying to carve a permanent dent into you.

"Is it okay?" he asks again, rolling his hips and the newfound pressure against his denim-covered cock has him breaking off with a gasp.

"Yeah Joel. Yes it's okay."

His fingers come to the hemline of your jeans, as he roughly shoves at it in the dark. It catches at the dip of your hips, and you can hear the gruff impatience of the man from behind, as he yanks it down further. As if sheer brutal strength is going to be the solution in here, the way it is outside these walls.

You lift up your hips to help him, long enough for him to slide the jeans off your legs and you can kick them to the floor. Vaguely you try to estimate the distance to where they landed. Because that's where you'll have to pick them up in the early morning before he gets up. But that doesn't matter right now.

There's a scuffle behind you of rustling denim and the metallic clink of a buckle being undone. You reach back with your hand against the softness of his belly, down the sparse trail of fine coarse hairs until you can wrap your hand around his hardened cock.

He shudders in relief. A soft sigh into the back of your neck as he grinds against your back, demanding more. You indulge him, swiping your thumb in a circle over the head of him. There's a sharp intake of breath from him, similar to the sound he makes after taking a swig of shitty whiskey that burns his lungs too sharply.

The indication that it's too much, and therefore just right, because it's only then that it's a relief. An escape from the current reality.

You squeeze down again, fingers wrapped firm around the thickness of his girth not allowing him any reprieve, and he thanks you not in words, but with the way he bares his throat as his head throws back in ecstasy.

For Joel, the old world never ended. Never left. He's still trapped in it. His existence now is a purgatory. He treats it like he's just sitting in a waiting room, as the days and years go by. Everything and everyone in it are transitory. Nothing in the room matters.

His hand shoots out, sliding down the bare skin of your stomach and wedges underneath your panties. One broad thumbs presses down on your clit perfunctory, and still it feels so good. Sharp heat licks your spine at the touch, and your eyes flutter close as you lean back into him.

It's brusque, the way Joel's hand comes to your thighs and spread you open for him. Unrestrained the way his fingers parts your slick folds to collect the wetness he finds there, pressing into you and curls with a familiarity when he knows he's reached that perfect spot that makes your vision whiten. Rough in much the same way he is in every other part of his life.

"Fuck, get up here," he orders gruffly.

You roll over and he wastes no time to roughly grip onto your hipbones and dragging you up his body.

Bracing your arms on his firm chest to steady yourself, you settle yourself with your knees pressed into the sides of his ribs. They're dipped into the worn-out mattress and you think you can feel the springs of the bottom of the bed dig into your kneecaps.

It's a bit uncomfortable, but you don't mind. Because you get to straddle him this way. Get to see all of him, underneath you, on display. His bare skin made golden and soft by the dim light of the night lamp.

He doesn't look like the movie-stars of old. But Joel is handsome. There's no doubt about that.

Despite his rough masculine features, there are details that don't quite match up. His lips are plump and soft, inviting. A deep crease in the curve of his bottom lip that is just begging to be kissed.

Even with the significant grey in his thick hair, and the white in his beard, the weathered look suits him well. As does the fine lines on his forehead, and the ones around his eyes.

Smile lines, an old friend of yours had called them. Does that mean he used to smile? You imagine how he must've looked like in those days. Not constantly frowning or scowling. But smiling so hard that it would make his eyes crinkles. How beautiful and carefree he must've been.

In front of you, there's no trace of that man. His jaw is set, grinding his teeth, with gritted impatience as his hands grips onto your waist and pull you forward, towards and over his cock, positioning you right where he wants you.

His hand reaches behind you, and even though you can't see it from this angle, you've seen it plenty times before to know how good his cock looks fisted in his hand, as he uses your slick, still wet on his fingers to spread it over the length of him. Then you feel it, the fat tip of him nudging against your entrance as he slowly slips inside.

A heady anticipation fills you. It shakes the core of you until it makes your thighs tremor visibly as you straddle him.

Joel is rough. He is unrestrained and brusque, but he is not unkind. Or at least you'd like to think, not to you. He steadies you, one hand still on your hip, the other a flat palm against your lower belly, as he slowly lifts his hips as you sink down on him in unison.

The first thrust always knocks your breath away. Pleasure that warms you inside out in a way that standing in a fire fails to. It fills you anr nourishes.

You drop down the rest of the way until he's as deep as he goes, until he hisses sharply again, in that tell-tale sign that it's, too much and just right.

Your chest glows with pride, and you grind down against him to elicit another noise, this time a chocked grunt that's not nearly as satisfying. But the buzzing warmth that spikes your veins more than makes up for it.

You stay there for a moment, savoring the pleasure that simmers along your spine, until Joel opens his eyes, his fingers digging a bit deeper into the plump flesh of your thighs.

"Fuck," he grumbles, "please move."

You don't deny him, you never do. Not with this, not with anything. Rising on your knees, you feel his cock drag inside you and close your eyes at the sensation until only the tip of him rests inside you. It's a slow, dragged out pace. One that Joel doesn't seem to have any patience for.

His hand around your hip wraps firm and he pushes down at the same time as you can feel him thrust upwards, until he's buried as deep as he goes.

Fuck, you feel like you can't breathe. Didn't know you could fit so much of him.

Your eyes fly open, to the sight of him, thick brows knitted in pleasure. He looks gorgeous like this. Lost in pleasure, no longer buried in a grave of regrets he can never climb out of. Mouth parted as he gasps out at the feel of you wrapped around him. You stare at his spit swollen lips and all you can think of is how you want to kiss this man. Press your lips to his and feel the full weight of intimacy of this shared moment with his arms wrapped around you.

You anchor your arms on his chest, leaning down closer to his face, hovering above his lips and it's like he can sense you. His eyes flutters open as he meets your gaze.

You wonder what it is he sees in your eyes. If the want and depth of your feelings for him are so plain to see. Because he looks at you like he's terrified.

You don't kiss him.

You drop down your hips again, as far as he goes, and his eyes squeezes shut again, both of you choosing to forget what preceded it. An unrestrained moan rips out of him and to your ears, and though he's not saying any words, it's almost like he's thanking you for forgetting.

You ride him and it's rough and there is no rhythm. He meets you with every thrust, deep and fast, like he's racing for the end.

The hand on your belly, pushes down firmer, and the pressure does something to you. The simmer of pleasure turns to an inescapable heat. It climbs up your veins and invades your ribs with it.

You come around his cock and the pleasure is punishing, a slam to your ribs that squeezes down on your very lungs. It flattens your vision, until you're disorientated with it and you nearly fall off. But Joel doesn't stop. Continues to fuck up and into you. Harsh and reckless thrusts.

Pleasure is written over every line of his face, teeth gritted as he keeps his eyes closed to you. You feel him swell thicker in you, and you know he's almost there.

With a harsh hiss, his hand on your waist, lifts you up and off of him. His freed hand comes to his cock and wraps around it. Swollen and glistening with your wetness, as he fists himself with frantic strokes.

The chords of his neck strains, and then he comes. Line after line after line of his release, coating your stomach with the warmth of him.

You're both breathing hard and fast, made louder by the silence of the room at this hour.

Joel doesn't say anything and neither do you. Instead you reach over to the nightstand to kill the light, enveloping you both in the familiar darkness.

You lay back down against the mattress and roll to your side. There's rustling noise besides you and then Joel's hand comes to your stomach, cleaning up the mess he made of you with a corner of the sheets.

---

You wake up before dawn breaks. When it's no longer dark but the sun has not had time to rise above the skyline.

Dipping your foot onto the grimy wooden floor, you walk towards the very spot your jeans had been tossed aside last night, and put them on, as quietly as you can so as not to wake Joel.

You cast one last look at him where he's lying in the same position you found him when you'd let yourself in last night. On his side, curled up, vulnerable.

Then you gently pad across the length of the living room and let yourself out of the apartment, closing the door slowly until it gently clicks.

Someday, when this version of the world is over and one of you leaves. You hope that you get to miss him.

a/n: to be notified of new writing updates follow @astroboots-writes and turn on notifs 🤡💖🤡

[kirby0strombolli]

Ghostface | Matt Sturniolo P2

'What's the matter Sidney? You look like you've seen a ghost.'

ghostface!matt x reader

Chapter 2: ghost.

P1 P2 P3 P4 P5 P6 P7 P8

warnings: kissing, blood, that's probably it.

______________________________________________________________

As she hastily pulled on her cowgirl outfit, complete with a fringed vest, denim shorts, and a wide-brimmed hat, she couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that had settled in the pit of her stomach. The events of the night still lingered in her mind, casting a shadow over her thoughts.

But little did she know, things were about to get even more intense...

As the darkness engulfed the room, leaving her heart racing and her mind swimming with fear, a sudden knock on the door shattered the eerie silence.

Her breath caught in her throat as she hesitated, her pulse quickening with each passing second. Who could be knocking at this hour?

With trembling hands, she approached the door, her thoughts consumed by the terror of the unknown. Yet, as she swung the door open, relief washed over her like a tidal wave.

Matt stood there, leaning casually against the wall, his eyes widening in appreciation as they fell upon her. But something was off about him. He wore a cloak draped over his shoulders, and in his hand, he held a menacing mask.

"Wow," he breathed, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Let's ride, cowgirl."

Her cheeks flushed with warmth at his words, her heartbeat quickening at the sight of his approving gaze. Despite her lingering suspicions, she found herself unable to resist the pull of his charm.

Feeling a twinge of disappointment that Matt hadn't opted for a matching costume, she remarked, "Matty, we were supposed to be matching," giving him a playful pout.

"I know, baby, just a...little change of plans, that's all," Matt replied with a charming smile, though she couldn't shake off the feeling of suspicion that nagged at the back of her mind.

After all, they were heading to a halloween party, and Matt was known for his eccentric sense of humor.

Putting her fears aside, she flashed him a shaky smile and joined him as they made their way to the car.

______________________________________________________________

As they drove to the party, Matt's behavior became increasingly erratic. Her heart raced with a mixture of fear and confusion as Matt's touches grew rough and demanding.

As they made their way to the party, she couldn't shake the feeling of Matt's intense gaze burning into her. His grip on her thigh was tight, almost possessive, sending shivers down her spine.

And when their eyes met in the dim light of the car, she couldn't help but notice a hint of something dark and sinister lurking behind his usual charm.

"How do I look?" he asked, trying to lighten the mood.

She couldn't help but giggle at his attempt at humor. "Like a ghost...face?" she replied playfully, gesturing to his mask.

Matt's eyes widened slightly, causing suspicion to arise once again about his demeanor.

But before she could dwell on her suspicions any further, Matt's lips crashed down on hers, his kisses rough and demanding. Lost in the heat of the moment, she melted into his embrace, her doubts momentarily forgotten in the rush of desire.

"You look so good, baby," Matt whispered huskily between kisses, his touch growing more insistent with each passing moment.

Her breath hitched as she melted into his embrace, her skin tingling with anticipation. Their kiss deepened, fueled by an undeniable passion that threatened to consume them both.

Her fingers trailed along the curve of Matt's jawline, her nails grazing his skin with a tantalizing tease. With a low groan, Matt deepened the kiss, not pulling away, leaving them both breathless.

Matt's hands roamed eagerly over her body, igniting a hunger that pulsed through her veins.

Lost in a haze of desire, she barely registered the sound of laughter echoing outside the car until someone knocked on the car window, their mocking taunts piercing the night air.

Their passionate encounter was interrupted by the sound of mocking laughter echoing outside the car. Matt's mood shifted in an instant, his grip on her thigh tightening even further as he leaped out of the car to confront the intruder.

"Stay here," he commanded, his voice laced with a dangerous edge.

As she sat alone in the car, her mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions. Fear, desire, and suspicion battled for dominance as she tried to make sense of the events unfolding around her. But as she stared out into the darkness, a sinking feeling settled in the pit of her stomach.

Something wasn't right.

And as she watched Matt disappear into the night, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was about to plunge headfirst into a nightmare from which there would be no escape.

But as she sat alone in the silent darkness, a bloodcurdling scream pierced the air, jolting her from her stupor. With a racing heart, she stumbled out of the car, her eyes scanning the deserted street in search of the source of the sound.

In the distance, a masked figure darted away into the shadows, leaving her frozen in terror.

At that exact moment , her phone buzzed twice, breaking the tense silence that hung in the air. With trembling hands, she retrieves her phone from her pocket, her heart pounding with apprehension as she reads the messages from Matt.

matt go ahead to the party, baby :) i'll be right there

With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, she made her way to the party, her mind clouded with uncertainty. But as she stepped into the crowded room, surrounded by masked strangers, one thought echoed in her mind:

where was matt?

As she searches for Matt in the dimly lit room, she's surrounded by a chaotic mix of Halloween costumes. Everywhere she looks, there are ghosts, ghouls, and monsters, each one scarier than the last, staring at her, like she was covered in blood.

The air feels heavy with suspense, and the flickering lights create creepy shadows that seem to move on their own. It's like walking through a haunted house, with every step sending a chill down her spine.

That was when she finally spotted him, her shock undeniable.

He was carrying the Ghostface mask.

"No way," she murmured to herself, unable to believe what she was seeing. Her mind raced with conflicting thoughts, refusing to accept the possibility that Matt could be involved in something so...so evil.

He was carrying the Ghostface mask. 'The same mask-' But her thoughts were interrupted as Matt strode over to her.

She freezes on the spot as her gaze flickers to a flash of red and a glint of something being tucked into his waistband, causing her to recoil slightly in apprehension.

"What's that?" she asks, her curiosity tinged with dread.

"Somethin' for later, don't you worry your pretty face about it," he smirks, a mischievous glint in his eyes as she blushes furiously.

She looks down at her shoes, her mind racing with unease, but her thoughts are abruptly interrupted when Matt gently lifts her chin.

Her eyes widen in horror as she catches a glimpse of a shiny knife, its blade stained with blood.

A chill runs down her spine as her laughter dies in her throat, fear gripping her heart in its icy embrace.

Matt's eyes bore into hers, and in that moment, she feels a sense of overwhelming dread wash over her.

Frozen in place, she pales at the sight of the bloody knife, her mind reeling with the implications of what she has just witnessed.

"What's the matter, y/n?" he asks, his voice low and menacing. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

a/n: let me know your thoughts on this one!

taglist: @lexisecretaccx @itssophiasstuff @junnniiieee07

comment if you want to be added to the taglist! I have no idea how those things work but yeah :)

[bteezxyewriter12]

Cowboy/ 2

Pairing- San x Named Reader

Word count- 3.2k

Includes- Couple from Cowboy, oral, blow job, deepthroating, pussy eating, cum eating, cock riding, reverse cowgirl, cowgirl, multiple orgasms, squirting, fluff

Tag List- @mingtina @jaxminnie @yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana @tannie13 @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa

@yeosxxx @seokwoosmole @jjongsbebe @wisejudgedragonhairdo @meowmeowminnie @woo-stars @borntowalkaway @usagionthered @san-realblkwife @seonghwasstar @jejeyeppeo @soulseobi05 @kpop-bambi @prayerofthehaim @realisticnotes @pinkies-things @insomniacatiny @stephy-nicole13 @mknae-jongho @bykeynote @amyz78

Masterlists- check out for more fics

📝Masterlists 📝ATEEZ Masterlist 📝San Masterlist

San POV

The director yells cut and I look over at her

She's already looking at me and she smiles widely when she sees I'm looking at her

I smile back

I'm so lucky to be with her

It's been a year since we got together and it's been amazing

She transitioned from best friend to incredible girlfriend easily

And I think I did a pretty good job of transitioning into boyfriend mode

I've made changes to my schedule to make sure I have time for her

I take her everywhere with me, photo shoots, events, performances and tours

And we just moved in together a month ago and it's been awesome

I even went public with us and for the most part, ATINY accepted us

There's been minimal hate and I always handle it so she doesn't have to

I've honestly never been happier

She's my absolute world and I'd do anything for her

"Ok we're gonna go do the digging scene. San, you have a prop to hold so make sure you get it before heading over to the set"

I nod, "Sure"

Getting up, I walk wave at my naekkeo, then follow the guys and the staff to the other part of the set

--------------------------------

Break time

Finally

I make my way over to her, a smirk on her face

"Naekkeo", I murmur as I walk right into her open arms

"Baby", she giggles, "How's my cowboy?"

"Tired", I whine, nuzzling into her neck

"Aww baby", she laughs, "It's almost over. Then I'll take you home and cuddle you"

"Promise?", I ask, wanting that so much right now

"I promise"

"Mmm", I say contently, lifting my head and pressing a kiss to her lips

Her hands slide down from my neck, her fingers grazing along my chest and abs, making me shiver

"Why do they put you in nothing?", she murmurs between kisses, "It's torture watching you be so fucking hot and I can't touch you"

I smile, getting giddy at her words

Giddy and horny

But hell, all she has to do is look at me and I'm horny so it doesn't take much

"And the cowboy thing? Really Sannie?"

I smirk remembering how we got together

"Wanna ride a cowboy again?", I ask, whispering in her ear, her body shivering with chills

"Do I get to be a cowgirl again?", she asks

"Definitely baby. You can wear the hat the whole time"

She flicks the fringe on the vest I'm wearing, "And this?"

"If it's the only thing your wearing", I murmur

"Ok", she smirks

God, she's killing me

Taking her hand, I drag her towards one of the trailers on the set

Getting inside it, I make a beeline towards the back of it

There's a bedroom back there in case one of us wants to take a nap

A few of the trailers have beds in the back

I thankfully picked an empty one

Getting in the room, I close the door, locking it then turning to her

She grabs me by my belt, pulling me to her, her lips against mine in a searing kiss

She gets my belt undone, zipper and button open, my pants and boxers dropping to my feet

Kicking my shoes off, I get my bottom clothes off

Pulling her against me, I unzip her dress, letting it fall to the floor, her bra following it

She pushes the vest off me as her lips press into the skin of my chest

I moan at the pleasure of her soft lips kissing me, the feel of them against my skin so good

Her kisses are out of this world and I will take them anytime anywhere and on any place on my body

Her fingers run along my back as she spreads her kisses lower, all over my abs now

I know she loves them and I work out to keep them for her and myself too

And the best part is I know that she loves me with or without them

She made that clear to me when we first got together

I watch her tongue lick down my abs, going lower, to my dick, then lick up it

"Naekkeo", I groan, her tongue making me harder than I already am

She gets on her knees, her tongue swirling and playing with my head while her hand wraps around the rest of my cock, stroking me

"Mmm baby", I whimper, her tongue licking my slit, my cum all over it as she swallows

Her mouth moves around my head, sucking and sending bliss coursing through my body

She takes more of me in her mouth, every few sucks, her head going down

I move my fingers in her hair, holding on as she starts bobbing her head on my cock, my tip entering her throat

"Fuck naekkeo"

Each move has my cock entering her throat more and more, the tight space of her throat feeling so incredible

She swallows on my cock, her throat constricting, sending sparks of pleasure up my spine

She goes at it, sliding up and down my cock, her hand moving away as she bottoms me out in her mouth

She moves back, sliding down my cock then surging back, taking me all in

God, I love watching my cock move in and out of her mouth, her lips so pretty around me, her teary eyes on me

"So pretty baby", I praise her, her mouth sucking hard around my cock

As good as it is, I need her to stop

I need to eat her cunt then fuck her

We don't have all the time in the world, the break isn't gonna last forever

So I tug on her hair, her eyes rising to mine

I nod and she pulls back, off my dick

Taking her hands, I help her up only to push her into the bed

Now I move to my knees, pulling her to the edge of the bed

Taking the string of her panties in my hand, I pull the fabric ripping easily

"Sannie", she whimpers

I grab the other side and rip that off too, tossing the remains to the floor

Spreading her legs open, I bite my lip at the display in front of me

Her small cunt looking so fucking good to eat

Dripping wet, puffy lips, swollen throbbing clit

My fucking favorite

Leaning down, I burying my face in her cunt, my tongue licking up her juice immediately

"San!", she cries, her body shaking

God, I can't get enough of her

Her taste, her scent, her sounds, how she feels

I'm so fucking in love but I wouldn't have it any other way

She pulls the cowboy hat off me, her hand plunging in my hair, tugging

Pushing her legs up, I devour her cunt, my tongue fucking into her hole, feeling her throb around it

Pleasure creeps down my spine with every pulse, my cock so hard it aches

I'm drowning in her pussy and I don't want to be saved

I drag my tongue up her cunt, spreading her lips open, rubbing across her clit

"Yes Sannie!", she screams, her body shuddering

I concentrate my tongue there, lavishing her clit in licks, the pulses feeling so good

Eating her out is one of my favorite things to do

Her pussy tastes so fucking good, her cream the best thing I've ever tasted

I crave it, I'm addicted

Wrapping my lips around her swollen clit, I suck hard, her screams music to my ears

Both hands are in my hair, pulling hard and I fucking love it

"Mmm cum for me baby", I command, slurping desperately on her clit, "Cum in my mouth"

"Oh fuck San!", she cries, her body arching, holding my head against her pussy

Slipping my tongue down, I shove it in her orgasming cunt, the throbs making my mind go blank

When she finishes, I pull my tongue out, licking her cunt and making sure I get every drop

Moving on top of her, I kiss her sweet neck, her arms moving around me

"You taste so good baby", I tell her, "Best thing I've ever eaten. Fuck, I could eat you all day"

I have before

All day between her legs, her cunt coming in my mouth, feeding me over and over

Fuck, it's the best

"Mm Sannie", she sighs

"Are you gonna ride me baby?", I ask, "My cock hurts naekkeo. Wanna be deep inside you"

"Yeah Sannie", she smirks, "Wanna ride my cowboy"

With that, we move and I lay down on the bed, pillows behind me, propping me up so I can see her

She takes the hat and puts it on, my desire for her shooting through the roof

She looks so fucking hot with that hat on

Turning around, she gets on my lap in a reverse cowgirl position, her soaking pussy dripping on my dick

Reaching behind her, she aligns my cock to her hole, sitting on my head

"Mm yeah, that's it baby", I groan, watching her tiny hole spread beautifully around my cock, "Go down baby. All the way"

She slowly slides down my length, her pussy juice running down my dick that's not in her yet

We both moan when she gets me all in, her ass hitting my legs, her tight cunt throbbing, her pretty hole straining

"Cock feels better?", she asks, glancing over her shoulder at me

I nod, "So much better. My pussy feels so good"

She smirks, turns around and bends over, her cunt sliding up my cock to my head

She squeezes the tip, making herself extra tight, then pushes down, taking me back in

She keeps moving, slow but deep, her hips moving sensually in a circle as she takes me in over and over, her cunt leaving a mess of cream all over my cock

The way she moves is so fucking pretty, so hypnotizing, like she's dancing on my cock, her back muscles moving as she rides me

I watch her pussy swallow my cock, her puffy lips wrapped perfectly around my length, her pink inner lips looking so fucking good sliding up and down, leaving me a wet mess

"Mm Sannie", she moans, bouncing a little faster, making sure she takes all of me in

"So pretty baby. Fuck, your pussy is so pretty on my cock"

"Mmm you're cock feels so good", she moans, her hips moving a touch faster

My head rubs her spot, her cunt tightening hard around me as she moans

"There's Sannie", she cries, "Fuck, right there"

She keeps my cock right there, fucking herself right into that spot, cream pouring from her cunt

"Yeah baby, keep going", I cry, pleasure running through every inch of me, "Fuck yourself there. Fuck, use my cock to get off"

She moves a little faster, rolling her hips as she takes my cock, the skin of her back visibly shivering in pleasure

"Sannie", she moans, her pussy throbbing like crazy as she cums

Bliss washes over me as her cunt works my dick over, crushing my cock between her pussy walls

"Yes baby, feels good, fuck", I groan, "Cum for me just like that, fuck"

Her pussy slides on my cock, coating my entire length in her creamy cum, her moans of my name so fucking beautiful

I swear her voice can get me to do anything for her

She sits on my whole cock as she finishes, catching her breath

"Turn around naekkeo. Lemme see you"

She nods, getting off

Before turning around she bends over the bed and picks up my vest

She puts it in and turns around, my mouth dropping at how fucking hot she is

Her boobs are popping out of the vest, the fringe on it swaying against her hips as she crawls in my lap

She smirks, leaning over, her fingers under my chin and pushing my mouth closed

"Like it baby?", she asks

I nod rapidly

God, do I like it

She presses a soft kiss to my lips, my hands cupping her face, keeping her in place so I can kiss her

Her fingers slide in the back of my hair, crushing the strands as she deepens the kiss, our tongues playing with each other's

Her other hand moves between us, taking my length and guiding it to her entrance

She takes me in slowly and I can feel every inch of her pussy stretching around me, every suck in that her cunt does

And how wet she makes me

She bottoms me out, her hips grinding and rocking on me, my head right against her spot

Each rub of her spot, her pussy closes around my dick, squeezing tightly and throwing me into pleasure

She breaks the kiss, sitting up and leaning back, giving me small bounces in between grinding

"Mmm Sannie", she moans, pleasure all over her face

"Good naekkeo?", I ask, watching her move on me, hypnotized by her

She nods, leaning back on my leg, "So good Sannie. Fuck, you're the best"

I bite my lip nodding, "You're the best baby"

I move my hands to her hips, my eyes sliding up, watching her boobs bounce for me, the fringe on the vest swinging with every move

I can fucking watch her all goddamn day

The way she moves is just....it's everything

I slide one hand up her body slowly, over her stomach, up between her boobs, just feeling her soft skin against my palm and fingers

"Fuck Sannie", she whines, shivering as she bottoms me out, "Fuck, I love your hands baby"

I smile, moving my other up her back, touching her anywhere I can

I know she loves when I touch her, when I run my fingers on her, when I kiss her body, when I play with her hair, when I hold her

She's all about me and I've never had that before

I've had girlfriend before, flings too but none of them paid attention to me like she does

None wanted me as much as she does

None loved me like she does

I know she's extraordinary, one of a kind and I'm never letting her go

I'm not stupid

I knew she was my one from when I was a kid and I'm all about her

Everything I do is for her, so I can take care of her, give her everything and anything she needs

Give her all my love

Her hips roll down, her pussy sliding down my cock, feeling utterly good

"Mm naekkeo", I moan, thrusting up the next time she rolls her hips down, my cock sliding in deeper than before

"Yes Sannie!", she cries, her back arching

"Don't stop baby", I murmur, moving up into her, meeting every bounce down, "Don't stop"

She shakes her head as we both fuck each other, her pussy decorating my cock like a creamy waterfall

"I won't Sannie", she answers, "Won't stop"

I hold her hip tightly as we meet each other's moves, my free hand sliding down her body, thumb pressing into her clit

I rub her slowly, her loud moans of my name so beautiful, her hips keeping the steady pace with mine

I'm in so much ecstacy right now, her pussy feeling so good as she clenches down on me again and again

"Need you to fill my pussy Sannie", she murmurs

"Do you?", I whimper, looking at her through my sweaty hair

"Yes. I need it. Need your cum inside me"

"Fuck", I groan, "I'll fill your pussy baby. Don't worry"

"Now Sannie", she whines, "Want it now"

"You first", I breathe out, rubbing her clit faster, fucking up into her slightly faster

She nods, her head tilted back as she shudders, her mouth crying my name as she orgasms

My whole lap gets soaked as she squirts, some flying onto my abs and chest from how much liquid is coming out of her

The constant squeezing of my cock throws me over the edge, ecstacy barreling into me as I shoot my cum into her squirting pussy

"Joanne, fuck. Naekkeo, oh god", I cry, stars blasting in my vision, blinding me

She keeps riding me, the exquisite pleasure going on and on

It's so much my body's actually shaking

That's not such a surprise anymore

She gives me shaking mind blowing orgasms frequently and I'm so here for it

"Naekkeo", I moan, stopping her movements after we both finish

I pull her down to me, taking the hat off her and tossing it to the floor so she can be comfortable

Then I wrap my arms around her, holding her while we both catch our breaths

"Mm Sannie", she whispers, cuddling into me

We lay in comfortable silence, tangled up together just how we both like it

And now is the best time

"Naekkeo", I say softly

"Hmm Sannie?"

"Will you marry me Jo?"

Her head lifts, her eyes on mine, her mouth dropped open, "What?"

I smile, reaching into the pocket of my vest she's wearing

Pulling out the ring I made for her, I hold it up to her, "I love you naekkeo. More than anything in this world. I told you when we got together that I wanted to marry you one day. Somehow you knew we were meant for each other when we were four years old. Marrying you has never been out of my mind since you first told me you were gonna marry me during my 4th birthday party. I was excited then and I'm excited to marry you now. You are all I want and I'd be so happy if I can call you my wife"

She smiles widely, gazing softly at me, "Yes Sannie. Of course it's a yes. It wouldn't be anything but yes. I love you so much"

I pull her to me, kissing her soft perfect lips passionately, her hand against my cheek, kissing me back

My heart pounds in joy as I realize that I'm going to marry the love of my life

I'm over the fucking moon

"Should I get down on my knees and do it the right way?", I ask

She rolls her eyes, shaking her head as she giggles, "No Sannie. This is the right way. I can't imagine a better way to ask me to marry you than laying in your arms. It was perfect"

"I'm glad naekkeo", I tell her, relieved, "But just so you know, if you want me to do it that way too, I'll do it"

Anything for her

"Don't you move", she says, laughing, "But you can give me my ring now"

I laugh, nodding, "Ok naekkeo"

I put the ring on her finger, her eyes lighting up when she sees the ring

"Sannie!", she gasps, "It's so beautiful baby! My god, you have good taste"

I chuckle, "I just know what my baby likes"

Her eyes move to mine, "Yeah you do. Thank you baby"

"Thank you for making me the happiest man on the planet"

She nods, her forehead against mine, "Thanks for making me the happiest girl on the planet Sannie. I love you"

"I love you Jo", I whisper

She leans down, her lips against mine in a sweet soft kiss, full of love

[lethalchiralium]

What would Halloween in the happiness household look like 🫣🫣🫣🫣

OH MY GOSH DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED

happiness series 🫶🫶🫶 some suggestive content below the cut

Missus will always coordinate Simon to match her, but the parents and the kids will never match on Halloween. Missus will dress up Mellie to be whatever Winnie wants her to be when she’s a baby, but as soon as Mellie can speak and decide what she wants, Mellie gets to pick her own costumes.

Winnie and Mellie definitely have a good relationship so Mellie ends up matching Winnie anyway, because she loves her big sister and wants to be included.

Simon has stamped a hard no on wearing his fatigues, to which Missus understands completely. He could jeopardize the family wearing it, so it’s usually him mentioning a costume casually and Missus running with it.

“Cowboys would be cool.” He would just be scrolling through his phone, looking for Halloween costumes for the girls and just say it out loud.

“We can do cowboys.”

“Up to you.”

So cue Soap’s yearly Halloween party after trick-or-treating, here comes a cowboy and his cowgirl, then a fairy princess and a dinosaur. Gaz will always grab at the chance to get some time with one of his nieces, so he snatches up the fairy princess Winnie while Price takes dinosaur Mellie. They’re both tired, Simon and Missus always never stay longer than twenty minutes because they don’t want to make the kids stay awake if they’re sleepy.

Missus was just going to grab a slice of cake when Price strolls up, gently bouncing a sleepy Mellie in a dinosaur on his shoulder, whispering, “I can take the kids tonight.”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “I can’t ask that of you. They’re gonna be hyper in the morning and out of control, you don’t need to-“

“Y/N,” He said, nodding behind you, you looked over your shoulder to see your husband watching you. His gaze was one you could recognize from a mile away. You turned back to Price. “I will take the kids tonight. You take care of him.”

“You’re a good man, John Price.” You patted his shoulder, turned around and made your way through the living room to your husband. With a brown vest, button up underneath with blue jeans, he looked very handsome. It wasn’t his style at all, but damn, did it make you sweat. You waltzed your to him, he gave you a quizzical look as you reached up and plucked the cowboy hat from the crown of his head - and placed it on your own head.

“You know what they say, save a horse.”

Your husband just looked puzzled. “Wot?”

You gave Soap a wave bye as you dragged Simon out of his house, Gaz and Soap could only watch as you dragged your lovesick husband behind you.

“He’s definitely getting laid.”

“With a beaut like that, I’d want to get laid all the time- OW! PRICE!”

Price snapped at Soap, “She does a lot for you. Give her some respect.”

Gaz and Soap were right, but all you did was show Simon what the Hat rule meant. And may have been in bed for hours after showing him what it meant.

PLEASE the happiness asks are so cute please send me more i beg

[toulousewayne]

Batfamily Halloween Special🎃

Bruce was throwing his annual Halloween Costume Party, and let every year all the kids always dress up. Most of kids weren’t in the Manor as they would arrive later to join in the spooky festivities.

Alfred was overseeing the staff with last minute decorations. Fake blood, cobwebs, fake skulls, fog machine. Anything you could find at your local Spirt Halloween Alfred had gotten to first. The DJ was finishing his last few technical checks and the catering company was always done with the last few creative dishes.

Meanwhile, upstairs Damian was fidgeting in his sit,”Are we almost Sister?”

“Hold still or you makeup will get messed up.” Y/n was the only person home that could help Damian finish with his costume. After a few moments she pulled back and smiled,”All done.”

Damian flung out of his seat and into his sister’s bathroom to look at his makeup.

“Wow, you managed to make me look the skeleton from that film Grayson made me watch.”

“Jack, you look like Jack Dames.” She took a comb and finished smoothing out his hair. “What’s your costume?” He inquired taking the combing to fix his own hair.

She went into her closet and came out dressed as cowgirl Barbie from the movie with hat and boots.

“Now go put on your costume Dames Dick said he’s five minutes away with the girls.” She fixed her wig and adjusted her scarf. Damian walked to his room around the corner and changed into the costume his brother had gotten for him a few days ago.

When he emerged from his room, Dick and Y/n were laughing at a his phone and noticed Damian.

“Aww Little D, you look so frightening.”

“Tt. And what are you supposed to be Grayson.”

“Aladdin,Kori’s running late but she’s going to be Jasmine.” The three went downstairs which was now in full effect and Alfred greeted the siblings dressed as Count Dracula.

“Nice fang Alife.” Alfred smiled at the three and offered them red punch in black and purple plastic cups. “Why Thank you Master Richard, I must stay though they do take a lot to get used to.”

Barbara arrived with Cassandra, Stephanie and Duke all dressed for the party.

“Aww Dami you look so adorable.” Steph fussed taking pictures of the youngest. He huffed and walked away into the main ballroom where the music was blasting but only a few people from Wayne Enterprise and Queen Construction had arrived.

———

Y/n snapped a few pictures with Duke and Barbara aka Spider-man and Kim Possible.

Jason arrived with Tim and Bernard not far behind him. “May wanna close that vest up Dickhead your getting cold.” He teased Dick who rolled his eyes.

“IT’s October Jason.”

“My nipples aren’t sharing at everyone entering the house.”

“Jason knock it off.” Y/n huffed, Dick self consciously pulled his vested.

The group had moved to the ballroom mintues ago and more people from Wayne Enterprises and some League members had arrived. Jason stretched standing from the table,” Okay this Skywalker needs food.”

Stephanie and Cass followed dress as the Pink and Yellow Power Rangers.

Selina entered the room dressed as Marylin Monroe and waved,”Why do glum kittens,your parents go trick or treat without you?”

Fred or Tim shook his head,” They’re not here yet, it’s just boring right now.”

Bernard played with the green scarf on his Daphne shirt.

She sighed and saw a several costumed adults and looked back the way she came. “Well looks like the Calvary just arrived. Have fun.” She slipped away into the now bigger crowd.

Members or Young Justice, Titans and Birds of Prey arrived in costumes and soon the kids mingled with their friends and went away from the table only living Y/n and Damian.

“You should ask Uncle Clark why he didn’t come.” She spoke up over the Monster Mash song.

“Tt, if he cared he would have came sister.” He spat.

She stood up from the table and turned to him, “He’s your best friend and he’s been through a lot. Maybe Halloween is just a lot for him, if you tell him how much it would mean to you to show up I’m sure he’d fly here in a heartbeat.”

Damian didn’t answer his sister but did glance across the room to Clark and Lois dressed as Frankinstein and the Bride who chatted with Diana,John and Wally dressed as a Fairy, Boxer and a Race Car Driver.

Damian grab his cup and pondered as he made his way to the refreshment table. He grabbed a few pieces of cheese and felt like his wished the night was over.

The music stopped as DJ announced the arrival of the hosts Bruce and Batmom entered the room dressed as Gomez and Mortica Adams. Once they thanked everyone for coming the party once again went into full swing and Damian slipped away into the gardens.

“Damian?” A voice called to him after what felt like a short while. Bruce sat next to him.

“Are you not having fun?”

He sighed,”Yes father the party is very good.”

Bruce was silent for a few moments and then let out his own deep sigh.”Your sister told me you miss Jon. You should call him, Clark told me the only reason he didn’t come was because he figured you wouldn’t want to participate.”

Damian turned to his father,”Really?”

Bruce smiled at his son and gave his shoulder a squeeze. “He’s your best friend, just call him.” After that Bruce returned inside and Damian remained seated.

He signed before looking at the ground.”Kent,I know listening…I think—I want you come to the party. It’s rather…dull.” He spoke barley in a whisper.

For a while it was just the distance sounds of Gotham noises and the booming sounds from the music inside and then a sudden gust of wind blew a few strands of hair.

“Hi Damian.” Damian’s gaze fell ontop the floating teen before him in full costume.

A grin painted his figured,”And what are you supposed to be Kent?”

“Uh Duh, I’m Danny Phantom.”

Damian laughed and Jon rolled his eyes.

“Come on I’m starving I heard Alfred has jalapeño poppers.” Damian joined Jon as they headed inside.

Y/n elbowed her brother and Jason spilled his punched on himself. He followed his sister’s gaze and they watch from a far.

Dick beamed as he got closer to them,”Aww Little D’s not lonely anymore.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “I don’t know how he can be, you Mother Hen him to death every two seconds.”

Dick shoved Jason and the rushed of his punched spilled on his costume. Dick nervously sprinted away with Jason bolting after him.

“Imbeciles.” Y/n sighed eating a eyeball cheese.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Hi I was wondering if we can get a smut with Ajax in which they do doggy or reverse cowgirl and he’s able to let his snakes out! Thank you :)

I’m keeping these short, but I have a lot of requests to finish. Regular programming should return in the next week! I have to many new ideas <3

Warnings: smut, p + v, 

my taglists are here + you can requests here at any time

—

‘’Are you sure? What if I stone you?’’

‘’I’ll be facing the other way. I’ll be fine. Besides, if you do accidentally stone me, you’ll get to admire my naked body until I de-stone.’’

His cheeks flushed. ‘’That would be embarrassing…for me. You would miss class and I would have to tell Principal Weems how it happened.’’

Ajax was right on that one. Telling Weems of the incident would mean explaining to her how you got stoned. It would be embarrassing for many reasons and you would both be in trouble for breaking rules.

‘’But it’s not gonna happen. I trust you, Ajax.’’ You stroked his cheekbone, making him smile.

One of the privileges of being a gorgon was the absence of a roommate. The school founders judged it unfair for them to keep their hair covered 24/7 — these snakes need to breathe —, so they made a rule that all gorgons would have their own rooms.

You and Ajax used that gorgons privilege to your advantage. A private dorm was the perfect place to unleash your raging hormones.

Ajax groaned against your skin, feeling your hands unbuckle his pants and reach into them to grab his hard cock — he felt heavy in your hand —, as he kissed and nipped at your jaw and neck. You slid your thumb over the head and a moan left his lips, making you smile and attach your lips together, kissing in a mess of short breaths and tongues.

Half of your school clothes were scattered on the floor and the end of the bed, following the path you and Ajax made when you finally closed the dorm door. Since it would be weird to not face each other during the whole time, you decided Ajax would keep his beanie on during foreplay and take it off before…putting it in.

Your other hand raked up Ajax’s back, his hands kneading your breasts over your thin bra. It wasn't the style you usually wore to class, but you wanted to wear something nice for Ajax and your sweater vest and blazer would cover any nipple coming to say 'hello'.

‘’Gorgeous,’’ he said, passing his thumb over a nipple.

After peeling the rest of your clothes, you pulled Ajax to his bed and reached for a condom in his nightstand, kept close for this very purpose. He giggled as you put it on him, both from nerves and the usual awkwardness. Once it was on, you helped yourself on your hands and knees.

You felt Ajax's clammy hands come on your hips. He was nervous. Stoning you was one of his biggest fears and you were playing with fire right now. ‘’I’m gonna take it off. Are you sure you want this?’’

‘’Yes,’’ you confirmed confidently. ‘’Ajax. Take your beanie off and fuck me already.’’

Ajax nodded at himself and took his beanie off, freeing his snakes, and lined himself in front of your folds, teasing you for a moment and rubbing his cock over you as you shivered, before finally sliding in.

You couldn’t help the small whine that leaped from your mouth, feeling him slide further into you, wiggling his hips slightly to bury himself as far in as he’ll go.

‘’Fuck,’’ you heard Ajax groan, bottoming out. One of his hands found your hip and gripped it tightly, needing a moment. ‘’You feel so goddamn good, babe.’’

He started to thrust slow into you, making the both of you breath moans at how fucking delightful it felt, but soon sped up, the snap of his hips and the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the dorm. You didn’t know if Ajax’s snakes had an effect on his libido, but this was the best sex you’ve ever had.

Your back arched a little harder, your toes curling. ‘’Yes! Yes, baby! You fuck me so good,’’ you keened, grabbing fistfuls of the sheets beneath you, feeling Ajax's cock hit deep inside you.

Biting your lip and shutting your eyes, you took everything he was giving, both of your moans short and breathy. Your own pounding heartbeat filled your ears, the same way it would during a physical activity — although this was much better than going for a run.

You would never have thought Ajax had this much endurance, but his thrusts were not slowing down. If he kept this up, you were going to end up so fucking sore tomorrow. The thought made your walls squeezed his length and the gorgon let out a low groan.

‘’Fuck. If you do that again I’m gonna cum.’’

You wanted to do it again, just to tease him, but Ajax leaned over your back and reached to grab your tits, needing to feel them, making you both moan. This boy was obsessed with your breasts. You couldn’t blame him, they were very nice.

He pulled you back against him, your back flushed to his chest, his face very close to yours. ‘’Close your eyes, I don’t want to risk it.’’

You listened and threw your head back on his shoulder while he continued plowing into you. Your hair was sticking to your face, sweaty and a little messy. You neared your release, feeling the coil inside of you twisting up, and dug your nails into his forearms, moaning louder than before. His snakes hissed and sniffed your face, something that would have made you giggle if Ajax hadn’t been balls deep into you.

‘’I’m gonna— ah, gonna cum,’’ you said, arching your back and feeling him pumping shallow thrusts into you to rock you through your high.

—

Wednesday taglist: @sofiaadler @partyfly @hoodforcalum @thelilacmourning @ellessecretobsession @su-alteza-emia @achoo---uu @not-leaprvt @xaviersgf @peterparkerdilf @roadworkaheadisurehopeitdoes @dragon-chica @coldtacozinepanda @wrldofsage @eddiemunsonsluvrrr @capriaura @officialsaturn @babyfiva @maevaomizzolo @kelloggs-world @whosljt @ajpanda181 @belovedrey @emerycrt @elizabitchsshit @heaven-hiding @lilithlikestoread @est-liber @moonisu @dessxoxsworld @parker-nite @bellblake121890 @vesperazhier @kaldurahms-lover @beeebo234 @nephilimsss @mayuphoenix @sweetheartlizzie07 @watermelon-18 @snixx2088 @555stargirl555 @robinscardigan @chumchum19 @lilttblog @aphex2winn @heizenka @mystargirl-interlude @hwrtsiren @babygirljay20 @wildflowerlyss @strangersomeone @openfandoms @charlottelaffin @iheartmaddyperez @starless-starkov @ali-r3n  @poppet05  @ell0ra-br3kk3r  @rhaenyraswife  @teaganthemorningstar   @aphex2winn @moompie   @ifevilwhyhot @oliviah-25 @spenglerslime @wetwilliam02 @yellowcupcakes @haileyismoo @theyslayallday @wrldofsage @manofworm @rhydianissuperior @supersanelyromantic @nicangel13 @toylewestinnyc @meme-queen-1999 @rottenstyx

[sadhours]

scumbag blues 3: turnin on the screw

gator tillman x f!oc

previous chapter • masterlist

cw: 18+ minors dni, misogyny, sex work, smut, oral (f receiving), p in v, unprotected, facial, slapping, spitting

🤍🤍🤍🤍

Low thumping can be heard outside the bars doors, some crooning old country song plays muffled within the sticky walls of The Esquire Club. Daisy had a slow day. Every day has been slow lately. It’s about time to start picking up shifts at The Tender Trap again. The men of Stark County are being stingy or their wives are onto them. Or worse, they’ve grown bored of the easiest blonde in town. So here she’s resorted to showing up to the diviest bar in Dickinson, in hopes to make a couple bucks.

Inside The Esquire Club is dark, dim and buzzing bulbs placed like they meant for it to be hard to see. Drunk folk don’t see so well anyhow. Above the bar, there’s a fishing line hanging up a row of bras like a perverted string of Christmas lights. Not a single other vagina in this place, it’s the first thing she notices when she walks in. Which has Daisy seeing dollar signs. Imagines them above each balding head. Counts twenty of ‘em.

She smells like sweat and cheap perfume, cleaned the whole Inn with her ears peeled for that familiar ring of a bell that never came. Scrubbed the bathrooms with a toothbrush. Ironed every pair of sheets in the building. Then her Pops went to bed and Daisy changed into her sluttiest dress and cowgirl boots. Sprayed on some perfume a client gave her. Touched her makeup and walked the five blocks down to the bar. Thursday night. Means pool, she knows it’s busy.

Daisy sits up on a stool and shimmies out of her lace cardigan, tossing it up on the bar along with her purse. Another present from a client, worn at the strap. She’s certain it was purchased at the Walmart on the other side of town. The bartender smiles at her, doesn’t reach his eyes as he asks, “What’re ya drinking, sweetheart?”

“A Pabst,” she smiles, “Shot of whiskey and a pack of Marlboros. Lights.”

“You got it,” he taps the bar with his fingers before he mosies on to the end of the bar, opening up the drawer of cigarette cartons. Daisy digs in her purse for her wallet, pulling a crisp twenty from the pocket and places it on the bar, trades it for a black plastic ashtray.

The gentlemen places the pack of smokes in front of her, complimentary matches on top and slides over the bottle of beer. Pours her a shot of cheap whiskey and takes the bill. “Rest is for you, darlin’,” Daisy tells him as she tears the cellophane of the cigarette box and pulls one out, pressing the filter to her lips.

She feels eyes on her, waits for the fish to take the bait. This town knows her, knows what she is. She can’t figure out why they’re not barreling over with money in their fists. She lights the smoke and inhales deeply, missing the taste like nothing else. Daisy only smokes when she’s out. Scared that her papa would find out. She’s halfway done with the cigarette and still no one approaches her. It’s worrying, usually doesn’t take this long. Daisy pulls out her phone, aimlessly scrolls through different apps until she’s finished the smoke. Alright, looks like she’s gonna have to be more obvious. She downs the shot, chases it with a gulp of beer and turns to take in her options.

Then she feels a hand on the small of her back and lips on her ear. Thank God. She’s relieved, until she hears the most familiar voice purring, “Daisy Tallulah Way, what the hell are you doing in a place like this?”

She whips around to look at Gator, narrowing her eyes. He’s still in his vest. Seems to wear it all the time, like he’s never off duty or something. Tight white shirt underneath, biceps swelling underneath and Daisy’s gotta remind herself why she’s here. And how Gator’s discount puts it at the bottom of the list right now. Saved for desperation, if she can’t find someone else.

“Advertising, asshole. Would you get lost?” she bites back and turns back around, flipping her hair in his face.

Gator scoffs and then laughs, Daisy can’t help but face him again. He’s got this smug look on his face when he says, “Business been slow for ya?”

Looks like he has something to do with it. Daisy takes a deep breath, “Yeah, Gator. You been too busy running around for your daddy. Almost like you’re paying him for some ass, now.”

His face contorts in disgust and then he laughs, loud and deep as he takes a seat next to her.

“Gator, I’m not kidding. Fuck off, you’re gonna scare ‘em all away,” Daisy seethes at him, brow furrowed.

“Aw, don’t worry,” he shrugs, “I got a feeling no one’s gonna bite tonight. Besides, aren’t ya curious why I ain’t been around?”

“No,” she replies, reaching for the pack of cigarettes again. Though, she really is. She’s actually missed Gator. Besides, even with his discount and all, she’s down $1000 since he’s been awol. Not to mention, she hasn’t had an orgasm in two weeks.

“Shame,” Gator pouts his lips, “Here I thought you liked me.”

“Can’t stand you unless you pay me to,” Daisy rolls her eyes as she lights up another cigarette.

“Donny!” Gator calls, “Stark County Sheriff’s Deputy walks in and you forget how to do your fucking job?”

The bartender stops mid conversation with a patron as he stares back at Gator, grinds his molars something fierce before grabbing the bottle of Jack and walks back down to Gator’s end of the bar. Pours him a shot, leaves the bottle and sarcastically quips, “Sorry, your majesty.”

Daisy hates the way Gator’s power goes straight to her pussy. Hates the way he owns this fucking town. And especially hates the excitement she feels when he talks like that to people. She doesn’t get it. It’s not daddy issues like everyone says. Earl’s the best father anyone could have. But something has to cause the attraction she has to Gator’s general assholery. Perhaps she’s just stupid. It’s crossed her mind before.

Gator downs the shot and grimaces, “I’m courtin’ someone.”

It’s a knife in her heart. Deep and twists around. Though, it shouldn’t be. Gator told Daisy so many times how he wouldn’t ever date her, how she’s tainted, how his wife has to be pure and Daisy’s anything but pure. Forgets he paid her to take his virginity on his fucking eighteenth birthday. Made her promise not to tell anyone the fucking all star quarterback was a virgin. And it wasn’t like Gator couldn’t get it for free. There was a reason he showed up at the Inn that day. She’s been trying to figure out what that is since that day.

“Good for you,” she rolls her eyes, swiping the bottle of Jack and pouring herself a shot from it. Takes it with a straight face and turns away from Gator.

“She just transferred from Fargo. Works at the station,” he continues, arms on the bar top.

“I don’t care. I seriously need you to like, go anywhere else. I’m working,” Daisy says without turning to him.

“Yeah, I don’t think anyone’s gonna solicit you for sex when I’m sitting here,” Gator sucks in a breath between clenched teeth. Daisy closes her eyes before she turns to him.

He smiles, biting his lower lip as she gives him her full attention. She wants to smack him across the face but she knows Gator likes that, so she won’t do it unless he pays her. She knows all his dirty, kinky little secrets so why is she letting him have all the power here? Because Gator can just as quickly turn it on her, arrest her and tell her dad just exactly what she does for a living.

“Tell me about her,” she says, stubbing out her cigarette in the ashtray.

He smiles, licking his lips as he drums his fingers against the bartop, “Name’s Faye. Smokeshow. Innocent as hell. Virgin, I’m pretty sure. Just took her home, had a nice date.”

“So it’s just been you and your hand the last two weeks… huh,” it’s Daisy’s turn to smile smug.

“Yeah…” Gator looks pensive suddenly, like he hadn’t thought about that. “She’s uh… not gonna offer none of that up unless she’s got a ring, I’m assuming.”

“Shame,” Daisy pouts, tilting her head. “I put out on the first date.”

“Why buy the cow when you can have the milk for free?” Gator argues and Daisy can’t hold back her laugh.

“Gator, honey, you been buying the milk. It ain’t free,” she pats his bicep, shaking her head with a bright smile. Gator scowls.

“You know what I mean.”

Daisy nods, still smiling, “Just ‘cause you’re in the market for a cow, don’t mean you can’t get some milk when ya need it. In fact, most the men buying my milk have a cow at home. But my milk is better. And who’s to say, Gator, that when you get that cow, that her milk’s not sour? Best to sample the milk before you buy the cow.”

“Dumb analogy,” Gator mumbles, defeated as he reaches over for Daisy’s beer and takes a swig.

“So I can expect ya back soon?” Daisy giggles, leaning against Gator’s bicep.

“Finish your beer, you can give me some of that milk at home,” Gator sighs.

—

Daisy’s been in Gator’s bedroom before. She’s helped him feed his snake before. But they were younger. Hasn’t been here in years. It’s quiet. Lonely. She knows he’s mostly alone here. Figures that’s why he’s at the inn several times a week. Likes the company more than the sex.

“Here,” he hands her a glass, full halfway of whiskey.

She takes it, sips slowly as she sits on the edge of his bed and looks around. It’s not changed at all since she’d been here last. Gator changes in front of her, into some pajama pants and a worn shirt. Hands her another to wear. She puts the glass on his metal nightstand and kicks her boots off. This is weird. Like he wants her to sleep over. It’s a long drive to the Inn but she doesn’t understand why he didn’t just take her there. Daisy pulls her dress up and over her head, exposing her matching lingerie set underneath. Gator lips quirk the side when he sees it. Smoothes his fingers against her thigh as he admires her body.

“Sexy,” he hums.

“Told ya, I was advertising,” she giggles.

“Reds a good color on you,” he mumbles, “almost a shame to take it off ya.”

“Then don’t,” Daisy replies, biting her lip, “Fuck me in it.”

Gator licks his teeth, “As tempting as that is…” he lifts the worn shirt he handed her, “I wanna fuck you in nothing but this.”

Daisy meets his beautiful brown irises, the look in his eyes takes the air from her lungs. Tender, almost. Something only Gator gives her, though it’s fleeting. He reaches behind her and unclasps her bra, then trails his fingers down to the lacy thong holding her hips and drags them down her thighs. She kicks them off and Gator lowers himself between her legs, on his knees at the floor. He spreads her knees and squeezes them, “Put my shirt on.”

Daisy pulls it over her head, letting Heather gray cotton fall down her chest as she loops her arms in it. Gator wraps his fingers around the backs of her knees and pulls her closer to the edge. Her head is swimming, no man has ever eaten her out and it seems like that’s where Gator’s going with this. He bites at her thigh, looking up at her with desire blown eyes. Gator looks so… pretty like this. His hair slicked back, soft clothes. Sleep clothes. Tender. Domestic. God, maybe all he wanted was this. Daisy wishes she could drop everything and give him exactly that. But Gator doesn’t ever pay for the girlfriend fantasy. Has he secretly wanted it?

Daisy smooths her hand over his head, attempting to mess up his gelled locks. “You look nice down there,” she whispers, cheeks flushing.

“Yeah? Should I be down between your legs more often?” He chuckles.

“Please,” she pleads.

Gator bites her thigh as he squeezes the other ones, “Maybe you oughta be paying me then.”

“Might have to if you’re any good at it,” Daisy quips.

Gator hums and plants sloppy kisses up her thigh until his mouth is dangerously close to her cunt. Daisy can feel his breath against her sex, her hips jerking toward him. Gator licks a broad stroke up her slit and she moans, a sound of surprise and pleasure. His tongue is firm and wonderfully soft at the same time. Gator treats her pussy like her mouth, makes out with it with fervor. Licking, kissing and sucking until Daisy’s rutting up against his face, leg hooked up on his shoulder and fingers ruining his slicked back hair. His nose brushes against her clit as he fucks her hole with his tongue.

“Gator! Oh, god,” she cries out, falling back against the mattress as she writhes in ecstasy. It’s a feeling like no other. Euphoria filling her veins, orgasm building rather quickly as Gator’s tongue files through her folds and flicks against her bundle of nerves. Wraps his lips around her clit and sucks, head nodding into the motion and Daisy’s practically weeping. Thighs against Gator’s ears, grinding up against his face. It’s soaking wet, her pussy absolutely drenched in slick and Gator’s saliva. Feels it dripping down to her asshole.

“Gonna— holy fuck, Gator!” she shrieks, her hands shoving his face against her cunt as her orgasm hits her like a train. She seizes, squeezing his head with her thighs as the waves of euphoria wash through her violently. “Fuuuck!”

Gator’s like a man starved, she can hear him groaning and moaning against her cunt while he licks and sucks. Finally, her body relaxes. Legs going limp as the grip on Gator is released. She brings her hands to her face as she catches her breath, body flushed the most beautiful pink.

He keeps licking at her sensitive clit and her body almost folds with the sensation, grabbing his head and pulling him back. “Fuck, Gator…”

He jumps up to straddle her, kissing her bruisingly as he grinds against her. He must’ve liked doing that because his cock is so hard, straining in his flannel pajama pants and catching on her spent clit. She whines into the kiss as she wraps her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. She can taste herself on his tongue, can feel how his chin and cheeks are coated with her slick as he kisses her desperately. She grips his shirt at the hem on his back, pulling it up and over his head, breaking the kiss for a second while her fingers move to feel through the hair on his chest.

“Gonna pay me for that?” he mumbles against her lips, she can feel his turning up in a smile and she giggles back.

“God, I need the money but I can’t fucking take yours after that,” she replies, muffled against his mouth.

Gator laughs into her mouth as he grabs her hands and pins them above her head, lacing their fingers. “We can work out a deal,” he mumbles, grinding down on her, “I need something from you.”

“Fuck me, please,” she purrs, head still fuzzy and god damnit… she might be in love with this fucker. “Wanna make you feel like I do.”

Gator moans, pulling back so he can step off the bed. He pushes his pajama pants and briefs down, cock bouncing out and Daisy eyes it like it’s the only thing she’ll ever need. She sits up, grabbing Gator’s face and pulling him back into another heated kiss.

“S’cute… thinking I need your pussy,” Gator laughs into her mouth, “You gotta give me more about this Campbell fella…”

“Gator… I gave you all I could…” she mumbles back, reaching for his ass to pull him closer.

“Call him,” Gator purrs back, “Let’s set him up.”

Daisy’s dizzy on Gator. She’ll do anything for him so she says yes, hands tangled in his slicked back. She typically doesn’t make house calls but for Gator she will. And she’s in his bed anyways.

“Okay,” she pants, “fuck me and I’ll do anything.”

“Knew you would,” he purrs, running the head of his cock through her folds, “Just a greedy little cockslut, ain’t ya?”

Daisy would agree with anything at the moment, whatever it takes to get Gator’s thick, long cock inside her. She nods eagerly, wrapping her legs around his waist and Gator drags his cock back down, catching the head on her hole and he sinks in with an excruciating slowness. Lets Daisy feel every inch sheathing inside her welcoming cunt. They both release sounds of pleasure, Gator’s a low grunt and Daisy’s a high pitched whine. Once he’s balls deep, he strokes her cheekbone with his thumb. Then, he steadies his palm against her flushed cheek and in time with a snap of his hips, he slaps Daisy’s face. Her eyes widen, looking up at him stunned. Another rule of hers is broken but in this state, she can’t yell at him. Her cunt clenches around him as she squirms, surprising herself as she demands, “Again.”

Gator obliges, eyebrows rising as his lips quirk into a smirk. His palm collides with her cheek again, harder than before and he grabs hold of her jaw afterward. Thrusting wildly, he forces her mouth open and spits down into it. Daisy swirls his saliva around her tongue, playing with it and feels her body shiver as Gator’s eyes darken with lust. He forces her jaw closed and seethes behind clenched molars, “Swallow it, bitch.”

Daisy gulps it down, moving her hands to his biceps and squeezing them between her manicured nails. Next, Gator’s hand travels down around her neck and he holds her tightly. Restricting her breathing as he drills his hips into her at a remarkable pace. Fucks Daisy like he’s angry at her, even looks like it as his eyes narrow and his brows furrow, mouth tight. Her eyes roll back in her head as pleasure takes over her body, coil tightening in her stomach as a second orgasm threatens to break her. Gator’s cockhead pummels her g-spot with a steady tempo, the perfect rhythm to get her over the edge. And as she’s about to jump over it, Gator stills. Tightens his grip on her throat as he bares his teeth, Daisy’s eyes flying open to catch it.

“You’re nothing but a fucking hole to me,” he spits out, “Understand?”

Sure, it stings but she was so close and she just needs him to go back to that beautiful pace he’d set. So she nods her head, dropping her hands from his arms and grabbing onto his sheets as she attempts to roll her hips up at him. Gator grunts, grabs hold of her thighs and holds them up before resuming the brutal thrusts that knock the air out of Daisy’s lungs. A long, breathless moan erupts from her as her eyes flutter shut again.

It doesn’t take her long, flying off the edge and howling Gator’s name as she goes. Screams so loud her voice goes hoarse, body shaking underneath him as her bliss rips through her senses. Gator follows suit, pulling out and inching up her body as he jerks himself a couple of times before he’s shooting his load over his face. Makes a whimpering, sweet noise as he does it. Daisy wipes his cum up with her fingers, bringing them to her mouth and sucks his spunk off them. He collapses next to her, breathing hard as his hand pats her stomach.

Daisy sits up, looks over at him and sighs, “Alright. Drive me back home.”

“I ain’t driving,” he mumbles, “Just sleep here.”

Just a fucking hole yet she’s spending the night in his bed.

—

The next morning, Gator makes her breakfast. It’s odd but there’s a stack of cash on the table. She assumes it’s hers. Pockets it as she sits down and looks up at him, “Breakfast for a hooker. You know that’s not necessary, right?”

Gator drops a plate in front of her, “Shut up and eat.”

She laughs softly before digging in, humming around the hashbrowns on her fork. Gator sits down across from her, starts to stuff his face when Roy bursts through the door. Gives Daisy a look before he quips, “Didn’t know working girls make house calls.”

“We don’t,” Daisy replies, tilting her head at Gator as she waits for the excuse to come from him.

“We’re setting up Campbell,” he grumbles through his eggs.

“Don’t bother,” Roy pats his sons shoulder, “I got a tip, we gotta go. Take your hooker home and meet me at The Tender Trap.”

“Kinda early for strippers,” Gator frowns, tilting his head.

Roy blinks at him, eyebrows raised as he glances between the pair, “You don’t seem to think it’s too early to pay for sex, you have the right to judge a man paying for the illusion?”

“Is it even open at 9 am?”

“No,” Daisy answers, avoiding Roy’s eyes as she continues to eat. Roy scoffs and nudges his son.

“Let’s get a move on, Romeo.”

Gator sighs and stands, grabbing his and Daisy’s plates before dropping them in the sink. In his cruiser, he tells her, “You can’t come to the house anymore.”

“You brought me there,” she defends herself and Gator scowls. The rest of the ride is silent. Her dads on the porch of the Inn. He gives Daisy a knowing look as she hurries up to the house.

“Sleepover with the deputy?” He smiles, “That boy is courting you, ain’t he?”

“No,” she smiles to her dad, turns and flips the bird to Gator before rushing inside.

[withlove-amber]

Halloween Costumes

alden parker x reader

This is for all my southern gals, hope you like it!

“I’m sorry to ask you this last minute, but would you mind taking Victoria trick-or-treating for me this Friday?” Jimmy asked (Y/N). “Of course Jimmy! I love Victoria, she’s like the sweetest kid I’ve ever met.” (Y/N) replied. “Thanks, (Y/N), I was hoping I’d be able to finish this case in time, but with the newest body we found… it’s not looking good.” “Anytime, Jimmy. Plus, I think she’ll like my costume.” (Y/N) replied, happy she has an excuse to dress up for Halloween. “Ooh, what’s your costume? Unless it’s a surprise.” Jimmy said. “Nah, you’re good. I think I’m going as Cowgirl Barbie.” “Oh, nice. Victoria says her’s is a surprise. She won’t tell me what it is.” Jimmy replied. “I’ll take pictures for you. Do you want me to pick her up and we can get ready here at NCIS?” (Y/N) asked. “That would be awesome, thank you.” Jimmy replied, grateful for his friend. 

~time skip to Friday~

“Hey, (Y/N), got any plans for tonight?” Jessica asked. “Yeah actually, I do. I’m taking Victoria trick-or-treating for Jimmy.” (Y/N) said. “Aww, cute! Are you dressing up?” Jessica asked. (Y/N) wasn’t sure if she should tell her friend the truth, but ultimately decided to. “Yeah, I am.” “Ooh, what are you going as?” Jessica asked, taking a sip of coffee. “It’s a surprise.” (Y/N) said, not wanting to be judged for her costume. “You have no idea, do you?” Jessica asked, wanting (Y/N) to reveal her costume. “No, I do… I just don’t want to be made fun of for it.” “I’m not going to make fun of you for it. I promise.” Jessica said. “Fine, it’s Cowgirl Barbie.” (Y/N) said, waiting for the laughter to begin. “Like from the new Barbie movie? That’s cute. It's so you.” Jessica said, trying to hold back her laughter at her friend’s choice in costume. “Thanks.” (Y/N) said, relieved her friend didn’t laugh in her face like she expected. “Plus, Parker loves hearing your accent peak through. So imagine the look on his face when he sees you in it.” Jessica said, ending with a wink. 

(Y/N) did have a crush on her boss, but she didn’t think he felt the same. But after what Jessica said, she was starting to wonder if her feelings were as one-sided as she thought. ‘Does he really like my accent?’ (Y/N) thought to herself. After a few hours, (Y/N) picked up Victoria as promised and brought her to NCIS. “Hey, what’s up Victoria?” Nick said when he spotted Victoria and (Y/N) exiting the elevator. “Hi, Uncle Nick. (Y/N)’s taking me trick-or-treating tonight!” “What are you dressing up as, Victoria?” Nick asked. “It’s a surprise, Uncle Nick.” Victoria replied. “Wow, you’re not even going to tell your favorite uncle?” Nick said, feigning offense. “Come on, (Y/N), let’s get ready!” Victoria said, grabbing (Y/N)’s hand. 

(Y/N) and Victoria went down to Kasie’s lab to get ready for the night ahead of them. As they came back to the bullpen (after taking photos with Kasie for Jimmy), they heard a myriad of ‘wows’ and ‘I love it’ coming from the team. Victoria came out first, showing off her Tinkerbell costume. After about a minute, (Y/N) came out and heard almost the same thing from the team, minus the “Wow you look so pretty” from Nick. He did whistle though, making (Y/N) glad she chose that particular costume. The costume consisted of a vest, flared pants, and a matching cowboy hat, all in the same shade of Barbie pink.

Parker wasn’t there when they came out to show off their costumes, as he was asking Jimmy for an update on the case. But what he saw when he came back up the stairs, he’ll never forget. (Y/N) was sitting at her desk, feet resting on her desk, showing off her brown cowboy boots. She was pretending to talk on the phone, while Nick took a photo of her. ‘So this was the mystery costume…wow. She looks great. It's so her.’ Parker thought. He was starting to wonder why she was dressed up. Yes, it was Halloween, but people don’t dress up at NCIS very much. He didn’t have to wonder for very long, as he spotted Victoria in her costume. 

Victoria and (Y/N) took photos with the team, as promised to Jimmy. When it was time to take a picture with Parker, (Y/N) started feeling even more nervous than she was already feeling about the entire situation. Parker didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable, so he asked if he could put his hand on her waist. He wasn’t expecting her to say “Sure, Alden.” She didn’t just call him “Parker”, but “Alden”.  (Y/N) wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but she thoroughly enjoyed the feeling of his hand  on her waist. She often wondered how gentle his touch would be. Every thought and every daydream had nothing on the real thing. 

Earlier when she was getting ready with Victoria, she briefly wondered if Parker would find it adorable or weird. ‘Please be adorable.’ (Y/N) thought. Little did she know, he really liked the way she looked in that costume. He didn’t want to make it obvious, but he couldn’t tear his beautiful hazel green eyes away from the sway of her hips as she walked with Victoria to the elevator. But he forgot for a moment that he works with extremely intelligent individuals who can read human behavior like there’s no tomorrow. So him trying not to be obvious didn’t quite work out the way he wanted it to. 

“So Parker, what’d you think of (Y/N)’s costume?” Torres said, with a smirk forming on his face. Parker knew he wouldn’t stop being teased by the team, but he was okay with it because he had hope that one day (Y/N) will feel the same. Little did he know, she already did.