#travis hackett x OC

[isroji]

Enjoy the silence | Travis Hackett | Chapter I

The sheriff of North kill

Summary: The summer finally arrives and Hackett's quarry opens it doors again. This year, with a new counselor. A pretty pretty particular one. Of course, as everything related to North kill, Travis Hackett ends up involved.

TW: Teen pregnancy, age gap relationship, eventual smut, topics such as immigration mentioned.

Things to know before reading: foreign OC, changes to the original plot.

Author's note: I needed so bad to write about this man. Please keep in mind English is not my first language, so, if you see any kind of grammar mistake, feel free to tell me about it. I hope you enjoy it.

•

—Oh, my little girl...

•

"So... we have a little shy one here, don't we?"

Chris Hackett's words made Camila smile. She moved her head slightly, looking at the little boy who was hiding behind her leg. A gentle hand rested on the child's head, caressing it tenderly.

"Carlos, this is Chris," the girl said, pointing to the man in front of her. "Come on, mi amor, say hi."

Carlitos, as his mother lovingly called him, peeked out one of his small eyes. Compared to him, Chris looked much bigger. He didn't like it when big men approached him and his mother, although he also had some parts of his hair painted white, which reminded him somehow of his grandfather. He waved his little hand in greeting.

"There he is!" Chris exclaimed happily.

Genuine happiness flashed across his eyes. Carlitos' shyness reminded him of his eldest daughter when she was just a little girl. Past times, better times.

Dylan, the boy next to Chris, scratched his neck uncomfortably. He knew how to deal with the children at the camp, but this one here was much smaller.

"So..." He squatted down, wanting to be at the same height as the kid "How old are you?" He asked, trying to sound as friendly as possible.

Carlos opened the palm of his hand, displaying the number 5. The only three people who heard the child speak were Camila and her grandparents. No one really understood why, but with the others he limited himself to mere physical expressions and whatever his big brown eyes could convey. This being a relief, since he was a very expressive little boy.

"Quite a big boy!" Said Abigail, who, along with the other two girls, seemed delighted by the presence of that boy.

She could already see the image of Carlos showing his hand captured in her drawing notebook.

Babies always caused a sensation among women, Camila knew it. Her's was no longer exactly a baby, but he was quite a cutie. She understood it. If she could, she would also spend the day squeezing those cheeks.

Again, shame flooded Carlos, hiding his face in his mother's leg.

Camila sighed.

"He's a little shy, but I assure you he's very kind. Right, Carlitos?" She asked, continuing with the action of stroking his head.

He nodded. He always got nervous when he had to be around so many people. Especially if they were big people. Lots of eyes on him, lots of attention.

"We are very happy that you have arrived, the other counselor who was supposed to work with you in the nursery has not arrived yet and from the looks of it, she will not." Chris spoke, finally bringing the important topic to the table; the job.

Camila clicked her tongue.

"Looks like it'll just be you and me in the infirmary, baby." She commented to his son.

Carlitos, with his face protected by his mother's leg, smiled. He liked being her assistant.

Ryan, the only one who hadn't said a single word in all this time, finally entered to the conversation.

"Actually, another counselor is also missing..." He sounded almost sorry. Kept looking at Carlos.

He was part of that group that didn't really know how to deal with the 5-year-old boy. Preteens were simple. He told them his horror stories and let them stay outside at night for 15 more minutes and they already loved him. In this case, he had a little boy just as reserved as him, who also didn't even know how to read or write. Or he did? At what age did children learn to write?

Chris looked at him, as if reproaching the comment. Camila didn't pay attention.

"It's good that there are two of us here." Was her response, making most of those present laugh.

Half joke, half reality. She would be lying if she said this was the first time her son accompanied her to work. Being a young single mother robbed her of many privileges, and the truth is that Carlitos was already more than used to following her everywhere, no matter what job it was.

When the laughter stopped, Chris returned to his usual role.

"Well, guys, no more wasting time. Show Camila and Carlos the cabins and the place in general. Our campers arrive tomorrow and everything must be ready." He ordered, encouraging the young people around him.

Camila, somewhat different from the rest, was very excited to start the work. Unlike the others, this was her first time as a counselor. Everyone already knew the place, except her and her faithful companion. She knew so few places in the country where she lived that this felt like a real adventure.

She took the bags with her. Watching Chris disappear through the door of the large house, she stopped to take a look to her surroundings. Carlitos mentioned when they were on the road that those trees were the biggest he had ever seen, and if she thought about it, believed the same. It was barely 7 in the morning and the sun was already beginning to shine brightly, forcing her to leave her pair of sunglasses on. Being the city girl that she was, she found it annoying how much people from areas like this exaggerated the subject of views and landscapes, but now that she walked among them herself, she admitted that even the colors felt more vivid and beautiful. How happy it made her that her son was going to spend one of his first summers in a place like that.

Lost in the landscape, a male voice brought her back to the moment.

"It's a long walk to the cabins, little friend..." Jacob, the "big guy" of the group, began to speak, addressing Carlos. "Do you want to ride on my shoulders?"

Suddenly, Carlos's shy face lit up. He let go of his mother's hand and ran to Jacob, just as he did with his grandfather, who, when taking him to preschool, also made him sit on his shoulders. Jacob smiled like a child, picking up the little boy as soon as he arrived and placing him on his shoulders.

"It's the best view, right?" He asked, holding the kid's legs firmly.

Camila, partly relieved at how comfortable her son seemed with him and partly anxious about the number of accidents her mind was imagining from such a sudden action, was not too sure about allowing her son to make the walk on Jacob's shoulders, the guy who seemed taken from the American series she watched when she was a teenager.

Jacob, noticing Camila's nervous gaze on him, spoke.

"Don't worry! I have carried much heavier things."

Things, not children. Specifically, not her child.

The blonde who had introduced herself as Emma a few minutes ago suddenly appeared near Camila.

"Don't worry about him, he's harmless," She said in a low, almost confident voice. "Your child will have another child to play with."

Oh, Camila knew it.

"That's precisely what worries me," she admitted, laughing.

The guys around her seemed nice. They all looked equally young, equally inexperienced. She probably looked like that in their eyes too, with the only difference being carrying a little guy at her side and the experience that this brought.

Carlos was always surrounded by teenagers. From his birth, when 17-year-old Camila cradled him in her arms, until today. Her mother's friends were the first babysitters in his life, the exception being when an university teacher would swing his baby carriage when she found Camila asleep in some corner of the classroom. In general, both his mother and his friends grew up with him. All this, being Camila's biggest concern regarding the summer that was coming. She was going to deal with people her own age, but unlike her, they did not yet have the responsibility of a child. Maybe she thought too much, according to Chris this was everyone's second year as monitors, they would already know how to handle the children. She didn't want to be prejudiced, she really didn't, but when it came to caring for her son...

"Calm down, mama bear." Emma whispered, almost reading Camila's thoughts.

She couldn't do anything but smile. It would definitely be a fun summer for her and Carlitos. The best, for sure. She had a feeling that this month and a half would feel like a class on how to stop being an overprotective mom. At least the first step had already been taken.

•

"New counselors?"

Chris Hackett looked away from the papers in his hand, watching his older brother in the doorway. Travis had this ability to appear suddenly, without even a single noise to warn of his presence. The years had gotten him used to it, but from time to time it gave him a little scare.

"Mhmm." Was his response, continuing with the long paperwork that would surely have him sitting there all day.

Could someone tell parents that information documents about their children didn't need to have things like "favorite food"?

Travis walked into the office. Chris couldn't see it, but he was tense. He didn't know how to shake off that discomfort that invaded him every time he had to talk to his brother about that topic, especially when the bad news was included.

A strange throat clearing came from the older one. Chris looked at him again.

This time the youngest Hackett did notice the image of his brother.

"Tell me no one is dead, please." He asked. His voice sounded pleading, matching the tiredness that his gaze conveyed.

Travis looked away. He hated being the bearer of bad news. He knew that from the moment the moon set and the sun gave way to a new day in Northkill, he must have talked to his brother about certain events of the previous night, he knew it. However, he couldn't.

"The counselors you told me about..." He started, but his brother didn't let him continue.

"Bitten? Dead?" He asked, straight to the point.

"Dead. It seems that Silas was on the road last night." He reported, as if it were another of his police reports. It was simpler that way.

If it didn't feel so personal, it didn't matter, right?

Liar. Damn old liar.

Chris sighed, letting his head fall.

Travis, now even more uncomfortable, walked towards one of the windows. Seeing the beauty of the camp where many years ago (too many, if he thought about it) he was so happy, always helped him feel better. However, it was something else that caught his attention. His face wrinkled, looking confused.

"I thought the children were arriving tomorrow..." He mentioned, watching the group of counselors walk.

He doubted his eyesight was failing him. He was more than sure that the one on the boy's shoulders was a kid, and one much smaller than the ones his brother received each year for camp.

Ugh, the camp. Cruel reminder that his job would become more difficult for a month and a half. He didn't like children and their ability to get into trouble.

Chris looked at his brother.

"Yes, they'll arrive tomorrow," he stated, getting up and walking towards the window with Travis. "He is the son of one of my counselors. The one who goes there."

Travis, taking his eyes off the boy and the child, followed his brother's finger until he found the aforementioned. He couldn't help but be surprised. Was he already that old? Or did that girl look exaggeratedly young?

Chris saw the surprise in his brother.

"I know." It was his only comment.

He also had the same expression as Travis when he first met Camila. Everyone, really. The other counselors, although a little less, were also surprised when that small human being appeared holding the girl's hand.

"She doesn't look older than Kaylee." Travis said, still looking at the young woman.

"She is, but only for two years. She is twenty-two." Chris answered.

As soon as his brother mentioned the girl's age, Travis stopped looking at her.

Don't you think you're too old to be seeing twenty-two-year-old girls?

The amount of questions Travis had in his head regarding her vanished. The less he knew, the better. He turned around, walking a couple of steps and leaving the window.

Great, as if it wasn't difficult to take care of teenagers and pre-teens, now he had to take care of that. Little children were a big no for him. Very curious, very easy to lose sight of. He remembered his nephew Caleb in his first years of life and all the scares he gave Chris and Amelia when he decided to play at being an adventurer in the forest.

"Don't you think it's a little dangerous to have such a young child in Hackett's Quarry?" he asked, back to his usual bitter sheriff appearance.

Chris, still at the window, didn't seem worried.

"You think too much."

His brother's favorite phrase. Travis hated it. It wasn't that he thought too much, it was that he was the only one in his family who thought. Of course, he fixed everything.

Sure, if the kid saw something he shouldn't have, if he got lost where he shouldn't get lost or something happened to him that wasn't supposed to happen to him; It would be his fault. Because, how could Sheriff Hackett let that happen?

The eldest Hackett hastened his departure. He wasn't going to talk to Chris, there was no point. They never listened to him, this wouldn't be the first time. He prayed that this girl would know how to take care of her little... creature.

Creature? Oh, Travis, what's wrong with you?

"Just... Keep the boy away from the forest, okay? Last year it was a pain in the ass to have to look for your lost camper."

And with that, he left. He had bigger problems waiting for him at his police station. Problems that perhaps he should have share with Chris, but he would prefer, of course, to be the one to bear the responsibility.

He did not expect that when he left the house, a meeting with that girl who he had looked so much from the window would be waiting for him.

Camila's big eyes met the tall, strange figure of a police officer. A policeman? It took her mind several seconds to assimilate that yes, she had a police officer in front of her. One too high. Too serious.

Camila, even though she had already passed that moment in her life where she should have had reasons to fear encountering a police officer, still felt a certain unease in their presence. There were no reasons, not anymore, but bad habits were difficult to erase. She didn't know if her face reflected it, but coming across one so abruptly (especially one so visually intimidating) left her in shock for a moment.

Long seconds of silence passed between the two. Travis, without transmitting any emotion in the sight of Camila. And she, of course, looking like a confused mouse in his eyes. He didn't find that reaction new, in fact, it was the most common.

Young and foolish, the older man imagined. How much shine in those scared eyes. Big and shiny.

Camila, seeking to somehow cut the awkwardness of the situation, decided to speak first. It was hard to get the words out of her mouth.

"Um..." She cut herself off, clearing her throat "Hello."

Travis didn't recognize the accent. He knew it wasn't even remotely close to Northkill, but he didn't find it similar to any he'd heard before. It was strong, too strong for such a high voice.

Camila waited for a word from the man, but her wait was in vain. More seconds full of silence and discomfort. Was it her idea or was he terrifying?

"I... I have to..." She didn't know what to say or how to make the moment less strange "Pass? Chris?"

Finally, the policeman in front of her showed signs of life. A raised eyebrow and an obvious what? captured on the man's face made Camila understand that he understood absolutely nothing of what she said. English in itself was difficult for her, in situations like this the concept of fluency was not exactly her strong point.

"I mean, I need to talk to Chris. The owner of the camp?" She said this time, still faltering over the words, but a little more coherent.

Even more doubt. No, that way of pronouncing the words... He didn't find it similar to anything.

Camila didn't know if a divine deity felt pity for her, or if Chris simply heard the strange interaction, but the owner of the camp appeared behind the police officer.

"Chris!" Camila exclaimed, relieved.

Chris looked at her and then at his brother. It was like going back years to when he would ask a girl out and by bad luck she would end up bumping into his brother. Travis Hackett was no expert when it came to human interactions. Worse if it was a woman, especially a pretty one.

A sight was heard from the youngest Hackett.

"Camila, this is my brother, Travis," he presented, placing a hand on the aforementioned's shoulder. "He is the sheriff of North kill."

Camila nodded slowly. They didn't look like brothers, and if they really were, they looked like a version of a good twin and a bad twin.

"Nice to meet you, Sheriff Hackett." She managed to say, extending her hand.

Travis contemplated not receiving the greeting, but something in the back of his brain screamed at him to move his hand. And so he did.

He couldn't remember the last time his cold skin had contact with such a warm place. The paleness of his hand was overshadowed by the girl's brown fingers. He couldn't help to notice how that caramel color shone with the reflection of the sun.

How could he not look at her? She literally glowed.

Speak, idiot.

"Likewise, miss... " He left the sentence in the air. He really didn't want to know anything about her, he knew he shouldn't, but curiosity got the better of him.

"Ramirez." Camila hurried to say. Suddenly didn't find the moment so terrible.

Travis understood in that moment. That's why he didn't recognize the accent. What a way to attract attention, it seemed like everything about that girl was trying to stand out. And she did it.

"Miss Ramirez." He pronounced, as best he could, the last name.

Camila couldn't help that giggle. Travis understood why, and even though he would have loved to smile back, like a normal human being, he did nothing but ignore her.

Travis broke contact with the girl. It was distracting him too much, and more important things than an attractive young woman were waiting for him at the police station.

"Have a good day."

Short, dry. As it should be.

Chris looked at Camila, almost telepathically apologizing.

Travis quickened the pace to his patrol car.

And as suddenly as he appeared, he left.

[truecobblepot]

the quarry self insert au of an au

she’s feeling ✨bonita✨

[nikageeee]

Psst here’s some art of Travis and Marjorie that no one but me asked for…

scribble of them circa 2000 when Kaylee was almost one

[scrapnick]

“Are you checking me out, sheriff?”

“More checking so you don’t accidentally shoot me?”

Waist up full colour commission for @auryborealis of their oc Evan and sheriff Travis 🥰

[summersnow82]

Somethin’ Bad - Part 20

Fanfiction_The Quarry

Fictober 2024_Prompt 19: “This is getting ridiculous.”

Summary: Annabelle and Travis come to an agreement of sorts.

Author’s note: Guys. I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to get this piece out. I have not abandoned this fic, but life can be ruthlessly demanding sometimes. I love y’all. I appreciate y’all. Thanks for sticking with me. We’re nearing the end.

…

Part 20

Travis blinked. He’d pictured this evening going many ways, but this… this was not it.

Annabelle tightened her grip on his suit lapels. “Where is Sean?” She repeated.

Under normal circumstances Travis would’ve told her to shut up or untangled himself from her hold with little effort, but tonight… tonight his mind was drawing a blank on what to do or how to reply. Tonight she looked stunning with red lips, long black lashes, and curls that framed her face in a flattering retro style. Her figure was emphasized in a classic skirt and blouse, and the heels made her legs look even more delectable. She was polished, perfumed, and before he realized it his arms were snaking around her back like an old lover. The surprise was evident as her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to protest; enough time for him to lean in and close the distance.

… and be greeted with a palm to his face.

“Oh, you must be kidding me,” she grumbled, shrugging out of his hold, whirling on her heel, and marching back to the grand house. Before she entered she turned to face him adding, “Don’t worry. I’ll find him. It’s what we do.”

Travis felt his face burn with embarrassment as he watched her go, and he adjusted his suit for a moment, hoping the blush would die down. He did notice, however, with a small quirk of his lips that she had left the door open this time.

………..

“Well, isn’t this nice?” Darlene asked, finally sitting down at the dining room table. She’d been running back and forth to the kitchen, insisting Annabelle sit still across from the smirking sheriff. Frank wasn’t helping, either. He seemed perfectly content to let the two of them sit in an awkward silence without any assistance on his part. Instead, he sat at the head of the table watching the two of them with an ever growing grin on his face. “Frank, would you like to bless the food,” Darlene asked, casting a knowing smile at her husband.

“Of course, darling.” Frank bowed his head, and said, “Heavenly Father, we thank you for the food we are about to eat, the hands that prepared it, and the company we are about to enjoy. We ask You to nourish our bodies to Your Holy Service, to bless this time together, and to help us put aside our stubborn pride and see the gifts before us. In Your Name, Father, amen.” He looked up to see Darlene ducking her head to hide a smile while both Travis and Annabelle both seemed just a touch more humble.

“Thank you for inviting me over, Frank,” Travis said, breaking the silence. “Darlene, everything looks wonderful.” His dark eyes flicked up to look at Annabelle. “Absolutely everything.” Annabelle’s mouth opened just a touch, her surprise evident at the compliment.

“Isn’t she just the picture?” Darlene asked, smiling over at the younger woman. “You’ve indulged me so much, Alice. I never had a daughter, and I always wondered what it would’ve been like.” She reached over, taking Annabelle’s hand in her own, and offering an affectionate squeeze. “Thank you for that.”

“I should be the one thanking you,” Annabelle said, staring down at her empty plate. “I’m not used to such kindness.” She glanced up for a moment, and caught Travis’ eye. “But gracious hosts seem abundant in North Kill.” It wasn’t an apology or forgiveness, but it was a step in the right direction, and it made Frank smile.

After dinner Annabelle offered to clear the table, and with some silent encouragement from Frank Travis was soon on his feet, helping her carry Darlene’s fine china to the kitchen. The two washed and dried the dishes in silence, and they were finishing up when Darlene popped her head in, stating she and Frank were going to go for a bit of a walk and give the “lovebirds” time to talk more openly.

Annabelle’s protests fell on deaf ears as the door swung shut behind the older woman, and Travis shrugged. “At least I don’t have to call you Alice for a bit.”

Annabelle shot him a glare before returning to her work. “You almost slipped up at dinner. At least twice,” she stated.

“Frank knows,” Travis replied.

She almost dropped the dish she was holding. “He… what? He knows what?”

Travis kept drying the plate in his hands. His mother had been strict about dish duty; he’d put a damp dish away once, and she’d made sure he would never make the same mistake again. “He knows your real name is Annabelle. Knows who Sean is. Knows something’s been going on since the fire, but not all the details.” He polished the dish again, more out of habit than necessity. “Don’t worry. He won’t tell.” He was so focused on the dish he almost dropped it when Annabelle’s hands closed around his own.

“It’s dry, Travis.” She spoke softly, and her concern was evident, but Travis didn’t want her concern right now. He wanted to know if she was still going to help him come the next full moon, and he asked her as much. “I said I would, and I meant it,” she told him, her hands still holding onto his. “How did Frank find all this out?” She took the dish from him as she spoke, deftly taking the dish towel, too, and began to dry the remaining dishes. He recounted the events of the previous night, and though he was tempted to exclude it, he shared the reason why Sean had to be moved so abruptly. She leaned back against the counter, shaking her head in disbelief. “Wow. Travis, your family. I mean - .”

“Don’t.” The word was hard and cold, and his eyes told Annabelle he didn’t want to hear what she had to say. “My family is my family. It is what it is.”

Annabelle shook her head, and turned back to the dishes. “This is getting ridiculous,” she murmured. “I mean, how are we supposed to help your family when they keep trying to kill us? We went from sleeping in a jail cell to being put into hiding, and for what?” Her voice rose as she allowed all her pent-up frustration to tumble off her tongue. She squared her jaw, shook her head, and turned, saying, “Maybe we should just leave…,” and the words died in her throat. Travis was slumped in a kitchen chair, elbows on his knees, his long, thin fingers raked through his dark hair.

“Travis,” she said softly, crouching down in front of him with a gentle hand on his knee. “Travis, I’m sorry. Really. I didn’t…,” she struggled to find the words. “I want to help you, I do. I’m just…,” she trailed off, shaking her head.

“My family… we didn’t mean to hurt anybody,” he said quietly.

Annabelle nodded. She knew underneath the gruff exterior, cold glares, and grunts Travis was a good man. She wanted to believe the rest of his family was, too, but her experience with his parents made it difficult, and knowing what she did about Evelyn, and his past didn’t help. “But people have been hurt, Travis,” she said quietly.

“Don’t you think I know that!” He shouted, throwing his hands in the air as he jerked away from her. His chair scraped the floor at the motion, and she recoiled at the burst of movement, falling back against the cold tile floor. Travis froze, his eyes wide with a mix of panic and horror. “Oh. Oh, no. Belle, I - ,” he stammered, and he looked so lost Annabelle couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. He raked trembling hands through his hair and over his face. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. None of this was supposed to happen,” he cried before quietly adding, “We’re just… trying to survive.”

“I know a little bit about that,” Annabelle said softly.

He couldn’t help but chuckle – a dark, rueful chuckle, but still. “Yeah. I guess you do.” He met her eyes, and then looked away quickly. “I’m no good at this, Belle.”

“People or werewolves?” She asked.

He shrugged. “Both.” He took a cautious step in her direction, hesitated, then extended a hand to help her up.

“I will help you,” she said once he’d pulled her to her feet, “but I can’t do that constantly looking over my shoulder, and Sean has to be somewhere safe once the full moon comes.” Travis nodded. “So,” she began carefully, “we need a plan.”

“You got one?”

She grinned. “I was hoping you had one, Sheriff.”

Travis arched a brow, and had the gall to look down his nose at her before saying, “Ma’am, I need more than a glass of red wine with dinner for that.”

Her smile broadened; there was her grumpy Sheriff. And then an idea struck her, and she could tell by the tilt in his head he saw the gears in her head begin to turn. “Do you have a bar in North Kill?” She asked.

If it was possible, Travis looked at her even further down his nose. “Yes,” he answered slowly. “Right along with electricity and running water.”

“Do they, by any chance, have a karaoke night?”

Travis’ lip curled. “Unfortunately. Why?”

Annabelle’s smile was so wide she could barely contain herself. “Why Sheriff, I do believe I have a plan.” She closed her eyes, hummed a tune, and then sang, “Stand on the bar, stomp your feet, start clappin’. Got a real good feelin’ somethin’ bad’s about to happen.”

[travishackettboygirlfriend]

This blog is as dead as my hyperfixation but I think it's worth to post these doodles because I think they're still cute.

[slash-aaa]

also - like for a starter from one of my horror muses ( listed below ). specify muse.

anita lesnicki - jennifer's body. billy loomis - scream. beetlejuice - beetlejuice. carrie white - carrie. camille preaker - sharp objects. clarice starling - silence of the lambs. clayton riddell - cell. daniel le domas - ready or not. dana polk - cabin in the woods. dennis rafkin - 13 ghosts. graverobber - repo! the genetic opera. sheriff hassan - midnight mass. hannibal lecter - hannibal. hugh crain - the haunting of hill house. jason dean - hearhers. jeremiah hackett - the quarry oc. joel miller - the last of us. john kramer - saw. josef - creep. lee - bones and all. margot - the menu. maxine minx - x. mike schmidt - fnaf. nathan wallace - repo! the genetic opera. natalie scatorccio - yellowjackets. nathaniel james carson - serial killer oc. owen sharma - haunting of bly manor. parker nash - fbi agent oc. richie tozier - it. stu macher - scream. travis hackett - the quarry. warren hawthorne - grim reaper oc. wendy christensen - final destination 3.

[lunaticus-platina]

Aight this is the post for the anon(😏) ask.

My fave moment of Travis x my oc Brennen is post-quarry, when the situation settled down and they kept meeting up until they got close. And became 'not boyfriends'(Of course Travis. Yeah.)

Travis was feeling under the weather and Brennen cuddled him. There's a wip of that moment, actually, brewing in my wip pit. To be completed in a decade maybe.

So in the cuddle fic, Travis went to Brennen's place and was feeling cold and his joints ached. Pretty obvious signs of a cold but as always, he had to be stubborn about it, so Brennen just wrapped him on his chest with blankets and didn't get up from the sofa.

Travis had a big frown on his face before he fell asleep. Brennen has great circulation in his body, so he has naturally high body temperature. Good cuddle buddy when you feel weak and miserable.

Oh and Travis sniffed Brennen's shirt while he was trapped in the blanket cocoon, like a weirdo he is. And Brennen didn't mention it because he thought it was cute, like a weirdo he is.

Another moment I like is whenever they throw hands, as strange as that sounds. If there's one thing Bren learned in therapy, it's that you have to express your frustration somehow instead of letting it rot in your mind and cause further troubles later.

And what better way for the great communicator like Travis Hackett to express his anger other than talking things out with his fists.

Since he can't explain how he feels, unlike how other emotionally stable people can, he has to act rather than speak. And that's fine by Brennen. He's quite fluent in fist talks! Also, his provocation game is top-notch.

It's like a morbid foreplay. They grunt and roll around and grab at each other, basically the same thing.(not) And they can make up later.

The way they fight is interesting too. Brennen avoids hitting the face because he 'doesn't want to damage the goods'. Travis is fucking livid but tries to pin Bren down like a cop he is instead of punching him too many times.

It quickly turns into a fight for dominance, but usually the angrier one wins. Namely, Travis. And it feels good to come out on top, so it's a little therapeutic for Travis each time. Bren doesn't mind. That's the whole purpose of starting the fights anyway. Fighting it out and making up later is their love language, I guess.

Oh and it takes a lot for Travis to actually snap, so imagine what kind of things Brennen says to drive him mad. Even while Travis is prowling around in a circle, ready to take him down. Yeah. Insufferable bastard.

[evilvvithin]

TAG 9 PEOPLE YOU'D LOVE TO GET TO KNOW BETTER

Tagged by @yumethefrostypanda (ily n everything you post)

Three Ships:

Uh i... ship people with me mainly, but something fresh i dig out my mind is - travis hackett x laura (the quarry) - wednesday x tyler (wednesday) - my oc ghostface x me can't think of third

First Ship:

Okay listen the tension between them? The way Travis talks to her and.. handcuffs her? If you know The Quarry, you know

Last Song:

Last Film:

Film? The original SAW because the old movies are just so good and never gets old. Precious little frames full of violence romance and blood.

Currently Reading:

Dirty smuts counts? If not, METRO 2033 for the 6589th time.

Currently Watching:

Wolf Pack ep1 because it looked cool, for movie I'm putting Scream 1996 right after it. Ongoing series? The Last of Us 100%

Currently Craving:

Coffee, if i ever say anything else call an ambulance

Tagging (no pressure): @xellnikov @life-or-something-like-lt @nickoffermen @knifecalledlust @konigbabe @dropped-their-sniper @sandinthemachine @thedeathdoctor @slasher-lovers-blog @itsagrimm @lucifers-horror-harem & and anyone wanting to do this!

[auryborealis]

....I really don't know how to draw Ted Raimi ;-;

Behold, another product of my simpness. This time an OC for The Quarry. Her name is Evan, and she's actually the younger sister of my RE8 OC, Faye. She's a private investigator who is struggling to cope with the recent passing of her mother and the disappearance of her sister, who went missing in 2014. She takes on a missing person case which leads her to Northkill, where she quickly finds out about a coverup, causing a feud between her and local sheriff Travis Hackett. Simply put: he locks her up, she kicks his ass and escapes, he saves her from a werewolf encounter, she nurses him back to health, insert steady build of trust and understanding which then develops into affection (and a carnal need to release their frustration and stress together).

Nicknames: Evans, Evie (used by Faye)

Pronouns: She/Her/They/Their

Birthday: July 8, 1991

Height: 5'4"

Voice Claim: Allegra Clarke (Shamir from Fire Emblem: Three Houses) but also sounding like Tara Strong's Raven from Teen Titans

Character inspirations include: Madeleine Nguyen (Gourmet Hound), Melinda May (Agents of SHIELD), Nathalie (Uriah), Levi Ackerman (Attack on Titan), Kang Sae-byeok (Squid Game), Elektra Ovirowa (Cowboy Bebop), Helena Harper (Resident Evil 6), Aya Brea (Parasite Eve), and Juli Kidman (The Evil Within)

My exact thought process when coming up with her name: "Lol Ebony. Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way. Ok no, let's just shorten that to Evan... Evan Lee, Ebony lolololol." (I did not know that the actor who plays Nick is named Evan during this time)

I forgot to add to that interrogation comic that she also carries a combat knife.

She wears a silver sun necklace while Faye wears a golden moon necklace. They each serve as a symbol of the other. Her necklace did serve as a protection against the werewolves but during a certain encounter, she loses her necklace, resulting in her getting bitten. She later recovers and gives the necklace to Travis for safekeeping (and for his protection).

The scars on her face aren't a result of an attack but a childhood injury. Her werewolf form can be identified by these scars and they still somehow remain when she returns to human form.

She had an unspecified illness which would sometimes flare up, to the point where she would need to be put to bedrest or even hospitalized. Faye had disappeared while taking on a job that would pay off her medical bills, hence why Evan blames herself for her going missing. After getting bitten, she was cured from the illness. She would not reunite with Faye until 2022.

She scares Bobby, with or without her werewolf form.

Among the counselors, she’d probably get along with Ryan the most.

What would be the shipname for this resting bitch face couple? Traven?? (Evis sounds like Elvis and Hacklee sounds like a coughing fit)

She and Travis probably won't have kids. But they would definitely spoil their nephew and nibling, Damien and Adrian Heisenberg.

[THE QUARRY SPOILERS] 

I imagine certain events of The Quarry going differently if Evan was involved, particularly the Laura and Max scenes. For one, she’d make up for Travis’ lack of social skills and not keep them locked up for two whole freaking months, even fiercely arguing with Travis about it. During the final couple chapters, after Ryan shoots Chris which therefore cures Laura and Max, I imagine Evan taking on Laura’s role. She lets her go off to reunite with Max (because I don’t like the conditions for this to happen in-game ;_;)

[howdydarling]

A sketch commission for @the-girl-of-rain-and-shadows of their precious OC and Travis Hackett!

This was so fun to work on! Thanks for the comm!

Interested in commissioning me? Check out my rates here!

[kijiboop]

So, I finished the first part of In the Family. I stopped posting it on Tumblr because I finally remembered that Tumblr’s tagging system is so fucked up.

There are ten chapters of Travis Hackett x OFC on AO3. I’m posting this mostly so it can show up in the tags. I’ll reblog later with a link.

Please read it. I’ve really enjoyed writing it and want to keep writing Part Two. Feedback, both general and constructive criticism is welcome.

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

[nikageeee]

Shameless Hunting Grounds art.

I can’t stop drawing them now

the diner scene in ch 2 specifically.

ok I’m gonna hide now.

love you.

sorry

[lunaticus-platina]

This is it this is Bk and Travis dynamic

ive been thinking about this the whole day

[summersnow82]

Somethin Bad - Part 19

Author's Note: I'm sorry it's taken me so long to get this chapter up. I will be finishing this story. Life just keeps getting in the way. Thanks for sticking with me. @durorholmes - this chapter is for you!

Part 19

Patience had never been one of Annabelle’s virtues. Frank and Darlene had her convinced Travis only needed a night or two to think things over before he’d come back for her. It had been three days, and Travis hadn’t so much as called.

She was starting to get pissed off.

Thankfully, her accommodations were better than normal. Darlene’s home had been in the family since the Civil War, consistently updated and well cared for while still maintaining the historical charm. The home was a lavish two-story build with columns, tons of windows, and a charming wrap-around porch. Inside, the original flooring had been carefully maintained, and small details like the sconces reminded the owners of their rich heritage. Darlene had carefully decorated with a flurry of antiques and heirlooms, while updating the kitchen and bathrooms to a more modern taste.

Annabelle loved it. She currently lay on the four poster solid chestnut bed trying not to worry or feel sorry for herself. Darlene and Frank had gone above and beyond to make Annabelle feel at home, and they’d been kind enough to keep the personal questions to a minimum. Darlene had taken full advantage of having a female companion with time on her hands, and had dragged Annabelle to North Kill’s beauty parlor and salon for a “day of lady luxury,” as she called it. It was hard to feel bad for yourself when your nails were polished like gems, your makeup was flawless, and your hair was styled like a 1940s pinup model. Darlene had insisted on shopping afterwards, and now Annabelle had half a dozen bags in her room with new clothes and accessories.

“I can’t take it with me, sweetheart,” Darlene had said, grinning like a Cheshire cat as she handed her credit card over to the store clerk. “Besides, you need something more than Travis’ flannel shirts and stretch pants to wear. I take it this was an unplanned visit?”

“Very much so,” Annabelle admitted, ducking her head to hide her shame – her pride was currently at war with her gratitude, which was another common problem thanks to her time traveling.

She sighed, swinging her feet off the side of the bed now. She couldn’t lie in her room all day; maybe she could help cook dinner or do something to show her gratitude. If she could find something to do, something to preoccupy her thoughts perhaps it would be easier to figure out how to deal with the coming full moon and Constance Hackett’s clear insanity. Anything was better than thinking about why Sean hadn’t reached out yet, and how Travis could so easily pretend she didn’t exist.

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

“You can’t stay here anymore.”

That’s what Travis had said the night of his confession to Sean; the same night he’d cast Annabelle out of his home. He knew he couldn’t go home that night, either. He blamed it on the alcohol, but he knew it was because he couldn’t face the place now that he’d sent Annabelle away. Despite his reasoning, he still felt guilty for how he’d left her. The least he could do for her now was keep Sean safe from his parent’s murderous intent.

The alcohol had loosened his tongue as he paced his office floor. Sharing his story had ignited a determination in him to fix something, anything within his control, and this he could control. Sean watched him pace back and forth, working through options before he spoke again. “I know a place,” he finally said, grabbing his keys and his jacket.

Sean didn’t move. “You’ve been drinking.”

Travis arched an eyebrow at him. “Are you serious?” Sean’s expression said he was. Travis sighed. “Look, you can risk the car with me, or you can risk my family coming back here later tonight.”

Sean pursed his lips, exhaling deeply. “Fine,” he reluctantly announced. His body language and tone told Travis it was anything but fine, but this was the lesser of two evils.

Sean wasn’t sure where he was expecting Travis to take him – maybe a cabin deeply hidden in the woods, or a seedy motel, but a historic Catholic church was not on his list. Saint Christopher’s Blessed Trinity of North Kill had fallen into some disarray over the years, but it was still stunning with intricate detail.

“Saint Christopher’s the patron saint of travelers,” Travis replied, killing the ignition. “Thought you’d appreciate the irony.”

A small chuckle left Sean before he said, “I always preferred Saint Jude.” He cast his eyes to the Sheriff. “Patron saint of lost causes.”

The two men were silent as they approached the church. Travis took the lead, heading towards the back of the building. The back door of the church was unlocked, a testament to either the trust of the priest or his faith in the citizens of North Kill. Travis ushered Sean in, leading him to a back room in the darkened halls.

“You know your way around,” Sean said softly.

Travis made a small noise in the affirmative, closing yet another door behind him before he pulled out his flashlight. “I spent quite a lot of time here growing up. Thought about joining the priesthood at one point, too, but Ma wasn’t very supportive of that idea.” He grimaced at the thought. “This church dates back to the Civil War era. It’s been used to hide, protect, and offer sanctuary for countless people – a fact the former priest shared after Evie…,” he trailed off, casting the glow of his flashlight in the direction of the bookshelves lining the wall. “Now let’s see,” he murmured to himself, moving forward to run his hand along the wooden shelves. “Frank said it was even used in the Underground Railroad.” Travis paused for a moment, then turned back to Sean. “Is that a thing where you come from?”

Sean nodded, his silence heavy. “So your folks don’t know about this?”

Travis went back to searching. “Not a bit. I think the only reason Frank ever told me was in case Evie or I needed to run.” He shrugged. “At least it’s helping someone now. Ah!” The excitement in Travis’ voice and a small, but firm click told Sean he’d found the release mechanism, and the bookshelf pushed forward. “There we go. C’mon.”

The enthusiasm in Travis’ voice died the second the lights flicked on. Both men whirled to see an older man glowering at them, his hat clutched firmly between his hands.

“Frank,” Travis gasped.

“You two wanna tell me what you’re doing in my church at this hour?” The scowl on Frank’s face read as disappointment and frustration more than proper anger, but Sean remained silent, waiting on Travis to take the lead. “Dagnabbit, Travis, I showed you this in confidence. What’re you doing skulking around here in the dark like a common thief?”

Sean blinked. “You thought we were thieves?”

Frank gave him a withering stare. “Of course. Figured they could take what little I had instead of risking the defilement of the Lord’s House. And you are, son?”

“Ummm,” Sean said dumbly, not missing the sudden smug look on Travis’ face. Sean wasn’t used to feeling dumb; he was used to Annabelle doing most of the talking when they were in sticky situations. She was good at it. Travis, despite his earlier surprise, seemed to be enjoying this off moment for the younger man.

“Frank,” Travis began, and the older man turned his withering gaze to the Sheriff.

“You’ll remember where you are before you answer that question, son.”

Travis sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Frank.”

“My name is Sean, sir. Sean Landers.”

Frank arched a brow. “You a new officer?” He asked, motioning towards the uniform Sean still wore.

“Not… exactly, sir.”

“Frank, I can’t explain, but I need you to trust me,” Travis said, holstering his flashlight. “He needs a safe place.”

Frank cast a look between the two men, crossing his arms over his chest as he debated Travis’ words. Finally he said, “This have anything to do with your folks?”

Travis nodded, his thin lips pulled in a tight grimace. “Yes, sir.”

“What about Alice?” He cast his eyes over to Sean when he said the name, studying him carefully.

Travis sighed. “Yes, sir.”

Frank pursed his lips, nodding his head just a touch. “Her name really Alice?”

Sean couldn’t tell if Travis was ashamed or forlorn, so he spoke up. “Her name is Annabelle Harris, sir. She’s my sister, and we’re in a bit of tight spot.”

Frank took the new information with stride, carefully studying both men. “I’ll say you are. Constance Hackett’s got her eye on that girl. Maybe she should be the one hiding in here instead of you.” He was silent for a moment before slowly asking, “Does this have anything to do with the fire six years ago?” Travis’ head snapped up, and Frank nodded, clucking his tongue. “What about the upcoming full moon?” It was Sean’s turn to look surprised.

“How… ?”

“I may be old, boys, but I’m not dumb. I’ve lived in North Kill most of my life; the town’s not that big. People talk. Some listen. Fewer observe.” He paused, his gaze softening at he looked back over at Travis. “You haven’t been the same since, son. Been… off. Tired – no, exhausted. Constantly. Every full moon you get on edge, and the day after you’re plum worn out. But mainly,” he paused, releasing a heavy sigh. “Mostly, I just see the hope and faith slip further and further away in you and your kin. That’s no way to live.”

Travis cast his gaze to the ground. “So you’ll help us?” Sean asked quietly, and Frank nodded, still watching the Sheriff.

“I will. Just tell me what you need.” He paused for a moment, as if he’d just had a brilliant idea. “And you c’mon over tomorrow night for supper, Travis. You owe your lady friend a proper apology.”

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

Annabelle should’ve known something was up with the way Darlene and Frank flitted around the house the next day, fusing over her, insisting she wear the lovely yellow blouse with the frilled collar, and the emerald green skirt that twirled around Annabelle’s calves. Darlene was taking extra pains to make the house smell warm and inviting, while giving Frank hushed instructions anytime Annabelle came into view.

So when the doorbell rang it shouldn’t have surprised Annabelle how Frank called from the kitchen, asking her to get the door for them.

It shouldn’t have surprised her, but it did. So did seeing Travis standing there in a clean pair of dress slacks, a stiff white button-down shirt, and a charcoal gray suit jacket. The look on his face when he saw her was one of pure surprise, and she might have relished it more if her anger hadn’t gotten the better of her. Her lips twisted in a defiant purse, and with a flick of her wrist she was slamming the front door in the Sheriff’s face.

Annabelle spun on her heel, her green skirt flowing around her, and began marching away from the door when Darlene popped her head out of the dining room. “Darling, don’t slam the door the poor fellow,” she said, examining two different stems of glassware. “You can’t see him grovel through the wood.” Annabelle froze, blinking at the older woman. She’d already come to admire and adore Darlene over the past few days, but a new respect was growing within her. The older woman looked up, flashing Annabelle a dazzling grin before nodding in the direction of the front door. Annabelle sighed reluctantly, and spun back around, swinging the door open with a flourish.

Travis was still standing on the porch, an eyebrow arched so high she could hear the sass before he opened his mouth.

...so she slammed the door in his face again. Just for good measure.

She caught a glimpse of herself in the entryway mirror. Her hair was still curled and coiffed, her makeup still pristine, and she looked better than she’d seen herself look in a long time. If she was going to deal with Travis better to do it looking like this.

She swung the door open again, thrusting a hand against the door jamb, ultimately blocking his path. She arched a brow, tilted her chin up a touch, and said, “You made me ruin a perfectly good roast.”

Annabelle didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but clearly it wasn’t a reference to food. His brow furrowed in confusion, and she stepped over the threshold, surprising him further as she advanced into his personal space. His eyes widened a touch, and he took a step back. She reached out, grabbing his jacket lapels and pulled him back to her. “Where is Sean?”

[dreamqueenkala]

SPLASH

|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|

WARNINGS: Breeding Kink; Light choking; Thigh Riding; Submissive!Nick; Praise; Unprotected sex; Momentary Hair pulling

Female Reader x Nick Furcillo

|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|

"Niiiick!" She squealed as she resurfaced from the water, her soaked hair draped over her face and shielding her eyes. A loud boisterous laugh to her left drew her attention and she reached out to splash him with a huff, her free hand trying to untangle her soaked locks from her face. Two warm hands pressed to her cheeks and gently caressed her locks from her eyes. Her (e/c) eyes met his deep chocolate pools and his toothy smile as he gazed down at her, his dark curly hair matted to his own face and dripping down his chin.

"Sorry, love. I just can't help it when you react so cute." He teased, leaning in to nuzzle her nose with his own. She huffed but couldn't hide the rose hue that warmed the apples of her cheeks as he nuzzled her so affectionately. Instead, she pouted, puffing her cheeks out and turning her back to him. "Aww, c'mon, (Y/N), I'm only playing." He cooed, trying to coax her to turn around.

When she refused he sighed and dipped down to bury his face in her bare shoulder, peppering feathery kisses along the soft, fair surface. His fingers lightly caressed her sides under the water, drawing circles in the soft flesh of her hips and easing her tenseness with the sweet gesture. Pressed so close to him, she could feel his warmth rolling in waves over them both and sighed.

Turning, her small hands splayed themselves over his bare chest, her eyes gazing over his facial features with such concentration the Aussie began to blush shyly. She could see the water droplets sparkling in his eyelashes, see the minuscule freckles dotted just beneath his cheekbones, pick out the tiny flecks of caramel in his dark eyes. She smiled, once again in awe of the man she'd found herself falling for more and more for the past year, and stood on her toes to press a kiss to his jaw.

"You don't have to dunk me just to see my 'cute' reactions, mister." She scolded, prodding a finger against his rib cage and earning a soft gasp of surprise from the tanned man.

"Well, that's not fair. It's not fun if you expect it." He yelped as she splashed hun full in the face, spluttering as the girl he'd been with for so long proceeded to dunk him in response.

"You're right. It is more fun when you don't expect it." She giggled, brushing a strand of her (h/c) locks behind her left ear. As he resurfaced and glared after her she rolled her eyes and dove into the water, swimming across the pool. His eyes fell to the swell of her ass as they had been the whole time they'd been out, the boy swallowing thickly as his mouth suddenly felt dry.

Nick reached out and swam after her, smiling as they swam the length of the pool side by side. "You're beautiful, love." He hummed thoughtfully, grinning wider at the cute blush that flushed her face.

It had been a year and three months since they'd gotten together, 3 years since they'd met, and every day was full of sweet compliments, kind gestures, cuddles and the very rare kiss. Of course, this wasn't on (Y/N)'s shoulders, no, rather Nick's. The boy, despite his dominance when it came to staking his claim over his girlfriend and protecting her from strangers and pervs, was probably the most awkward and submissive man she'd ever met. She didn't dislike it, actually, she found him quite adorable. However, the lack of proper intimacy between the two was driving her hormones wild.

Today, coming to the pool, was her idea. See, she saw the nice weather in the middle of spring as a sign that taking her boyfriend to an empty pool on a Tuesday was a great idea. They'd come here often enough beforehand, so it wouldn't seem suspicious. (Y/N) made particularly sure to entice the man with her new swimsuit—a black and green horizontally striped two piece that accentuated her curves and her slightly thicker-than-average thighs. It was working, too, if the stares to her ass and breasts were anything to go by.

Smiling warmly after his compliment, (Y/N) turned to face the stairs, slowly climbing from the pool. Her hips swayed with each step up, water trickling down her spine and over the supple curves of her body. Nick inhaled sharply behind her, and it took every ounce of strength of will for her to subdue the smile pulling at her lips.

"Babe, Cmon, I wanna get home before the neighborhood kids get out of school." She cooed, wrapping a towel around her body and shielding the enticing view from her boyfriends dark eyes. Nick stumbled up the steps, his face flushed as he shifted his swim shorts around, coiling another towel around his waist. They gathered their things and exited the apartment pool, making their way up two flights of stairs to their own apartment.

(Y/N) followed close behind Nick, stumbling over her feet up the stairs and falling into his back with a gasp. The dark haired boy swallowed again feeling her breasts press into his back and her hands on his hips, his heart skipping a beat at the contact. "Y-You okay, love?" He stammered, clearing his throat as he steadied her and moved to unlock the door.

She cleared her throat and brushed herself off, her towel slipping just enough to show off her cleavage. "Yeah, just slipped a little. I'm okay." She smiles so innocently up at him, the guy could've sworn all the warmth left in him would've flooded his cheeks if it wasn't already swelling in his shorts. The door clicked open and the two stepped inside their shared apartment, dropping their keys and such by the door and moving towards their bedroom.

Knowing her boyfriend was looking for his own clothes to change into, (Y/N) buried herself in the closet, brushing her hair behind her shoulders. "Babe? Can you put the towels in the dryer for me?" She asked, dropping her towel by her feet in the process. She heard him hum in agreement, footsteps moving towards her to grab her towel from the floor. He stopped short as she suddenly slipped her swim suit top off, letting the soaked fabric plop to the floor. Her thumbs slipped under the sides of her bottoms, slowly wedging the fabric down her waist til it slipped the rest of the way to the floor.

"Nick?" She turned her head, her eyes taking in the sight of her boyfriend gazing at her with an open mouth and lust blown pupils, his shorts tented slightly. Giggling, the shorter female turned to face him completely, a hand on her hip and her bare self on full display. "Nick? Babe?" He blinked slowly and closed his mouth, swallowing thickly in a desperate attempt to steel himself.

"Y-Yeah? What?" His gaze snapped up to meet her (e/c) eyes, blushing and furrowing his brows in confusion at the grin that covered her lips. She stepped forward slowly, her fingers trailing over his chest and toying with his slowly drying curls.

"Why're you blushing, babe?" She cooed, eyes peering up at him through her long lashes, lips pouted slightly. She tilted her head, slowly guiding him backwards toward the bed. "Feeling shy?"

"I-I..." He gasped as his knees hit the bed, his ass meeting the sheets as he gazed up at her. Her nose nudged his, her fingers tracing the pulse point in his throat, and she draped a leg over his lap. "Y-You're j-just...."

"Just what, babe?"

He inhaled sharply and licked his lips, his brown eyes black with lust tracing her bare form once more. "Beautiful." Her breath hitched in her throat and she smiled warmly, her free hand guiding his chin up to face her.

"Kiss me, Nick." His lips met hers quickly, moving so slowly, yet so passionately, (Y/N) swore she could feel her own pulse on her tongue, pressed against the warm muscle in his mouth. Her fingers slotted into his hair, tugging lightly and eliciting a soft groan from the boy. He exhaled through his nose as she moved to straddle his thigh, her bare pussy pressed against his skin and startling the poor guy.

"W-Wait, (Y/N)—" She hushed him as he pulled away frantically, her gaze not leaving his. He panted slightly as he watched her, biting his lip as her hip began to slide forward and back over his thigh. "B-Babe."

"You do this to me." She murmured, hands on his shoulders now as she moved. His mouth snapped shut at her words, glancing down at her breasts as they swayed with her movements. (Y/N) gripped his shoulders tightly, rolling her hips faster as his thigh began to grow damp for reasons other than the pool. "You make me feel so hot. So needy. So naughty." Her words became mewls of pleasure, her eyes fluttering as her pussy slickened with the thoughts traversing her head. She reached up with one hand and toyed with her breasts, the boy beneath her groaning softly at the sight.

"I-I do this?" His voice was huskier now, raspier, almost as if he was struggling to speak at all. She nodded wordlessly, gasping as his hands came up to ghost over her hips. "W-What do you want me to do?"

"Touch me." She mewled, tilting her head back slightly. She reached down, grasping his larger hand and guiding it over her breasts, across her shoulder, curling his fingers around her throat. "Please, Nick." Squeeze. "O-Oh fuck!" Her hips jutted forward harshly, her thigh brushing his crotch and they both moaned loud and unfiltered. Her nails dug into his thigh now, stabilizing herself as she bucked and rode his thigh faster, harder. He squeezed her throat again and she nearly drooled, her eyelids fluttering from the pleasurable feeling. He squeezed a bit longer and her eyes filled with tears, pooling there and trickling down as she chanted his name in a hoarse whisper. "Nick, Nick, Nick..."

"Fuck." Slowly, she opened her eyes, harshly blinking through the tears to see the absolute euphoria on his face. His free hand was palming his crotch, outlining his cock through the damp fabric of his swim shorts and fisting the base.

"Let me help, Nick." Her hands pushed him to lay back, her hips lifting from his as she hovered over him. Carefully, she hooked her fingers around the waistband of his shorts and guided them halfway down his thighs, just far enough to free his erection. It wasn't too thick, but it was long enough to draw a moan from (Y/N)'s lips at the sight. "You're so hot." The Aussie boy whimpered slightly at her reaction, hands resting on her hips as she straddles him once more. Her fingers gently enveloped his cock, pressing the swollen head to her clit and nearly collapsing at the pressure. "F-Fuck, babe, oh my god."

Nick gently eased her forward, bucking his hips lightly to tease her entrance. "Please, love." He begged softly, a mere whisper in comparison to the loud moans that had left him before. She gazed down at him with such intense passion he had to bite his lip to hold back a whimper.

"Please what?" He whimpered softly and squeezed her hips lightly, bucking his own enough that the tip pressed against her eager hole. His doe brown eyes gazed up at her with desperation, his bare skin coated in sweat and his toes curled in anticipation.

"I need to be inside you. Please, (Y/N)." He moaned for her, and she grinned with a breathy sigh, sinking her hips down over his cock. They both hissed from the tight intrusion, quickly bottoming out despite the stretch. "S-So tight. So good." He murmured, panting slightly.

(Y/N) rolled her hips, watching his expression morph as he moaned sharply and arched his back, his eyes clenched shut. "Good boy. So full, you make me feel so full." She hummed, setting a slow and steady rhythm. His hands guided her hips forward a bit, keeping her rocking in his lap as he blinked away at the ecstasy fogging his mind.

Nick's gaze settled on her breasts, watching them bounce with each buck of her hips, the wet sounds of skin slapping and her cunt squeezing his cock filling the room. Her nails dug into his chest and her lips parted to exhale heavily. His own lips muttered her name incoherently, chest heaving and heart racing, skin flushed with heat.

"Wanna fill you." He mumbled, one arm now draped over his face and obscuring his expression from her view. She grunted and leaned down slightly, rolling her hips at a new angle that had him arching his back and crying out. "Please! Please, wanna breed you. Please, love!" His breathless, desperate pleads made her heart swell and her pussy clench, low moans leaving her own lips.

"Fucking fill me up, Nick. Fill me with your cum. Get me pregnant. I'm yours, baby, all yours." She replied, feeling his cock throb deep within her walls. Nick writhed and bucked, gripping her hips so tightly in one hand she knew her skin would be bruised, but she didn't care. (Y/N)'s thrusts grew more heavy, sloppier as she drew closer to her climax, her breasts pressed flushed against his chest now as he drew her into a hug. Taking over only for a short moment, his hips began to buck up into hers. Once, twice, three times, then Nick groaned her name and pressed up flush against her, filling her cunt with his seed. As he did so, (Y/N) stammered and clenched once more, her body trembling with her own orgasm.

Faces buried in each other's hair, bodies coated in sweat, cum pooling over their thighs, the duo held each other gently for awhile. Though it was a long silence as they calmed down from their highs, the two were content, nuzzling each other and sharing chaste kisses between words of affection. "I love you." They murmured repeatedly, cradling each other close.

It was a long day, and an even longer night, the couple wouldn't forget for a very long time.