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johnwickb1tsch · 20 days

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🌻Small Town Girl🌻 ~ Part 1

Tex Johnson thought he was just passing through…until he set his eyes on you.

A little Tex x Reader fic for my beloved @treedaddymcpuffpuff. I love you bool!!! I hope you like this. It’s a mix of you and me and shit i made up and The Gift and conversations we’ve had and that silly rodeo fic we talked about and probably some sookie stackhouse and justified and longmire and other cowboy media that lives rent free in my brain at all times 😆 this is like 7000 words i apologize in advance…🙃 ILYSM!!!

Warnings: mentions of past spousal abuse, mentions of animal abuse, religious trauma...you know, the usual social problems of depressed rural america... I can say that because I live here. divider by strangergraphics-archive

To be fair, you saw the trouble coming from a mile away.

Or at least…a hundred yards, because that’s where he parked his ‘69 Chevelle outside the diner in the middle of your shift. You watched him swagger up in denim, boots, and a bitchin’ fringe leather jacket out the corner of your eye, because you were taking someone’s order. And you cursed the gods when he sprawled himself in a seat in your section, long legs extended out partly in the aisle. He was going to trip someone–or maybe he was just hoping you’d ask him sweetly to move those fancy-tooled shit-kickers to their proper position.

Your capacity for sweetly went up in smoke about an hour ago.

“Hi, can I get you started with something to drink?”

He looks up at you, all dark eyes and smoldering charm–yes, you’re sure he knows it, too–offering up a half smile that makes your heart stop even though you tried to brace yourself. And wow, goddamn if he doesn’t have the balls to look you up and down before answering, “Think I’m in the mood for somethin’ sweet.” His smile widens as you narrow your eyes down at him.

“You want a milkshake?”

You swear there is a sparkle in his eye as you ask it.

“Why yes, I believe I do. What flavor you got?”

You blink, heat blooming across your chest and up your neck. He sees it too, the cheeky bastard, that devil-may-care curl of lips widening more.

“We have chocolate, vanilla, strawberry, and banana.”

“Hmm. That’s a hard choice, darlin’.”

“You need some time to think about it?”

He chuckles at your sass. “Nah. How ‘bout vanilla. With a cherry on top?”

“Hard to find ‘round here, but I’ll see what I can do,” you deadpan, doodling with concentration on your order pad.

This tickles his funny bone something fierce, those lovely eyes shining. Good Lord, it’s just not fair, the types of temptation the Devil is allowed to set in front of you mere mortals.

However, you’re not falling for it. You’re not. You learned the hard way to be wary of tall, dark, and handsome men with a bit of the devil in them. Because before you were y/n y/ln, your name was Mrs. Donnie Barksdale, and you’ve got the scars to prove it.

“Comin’ right up, mister.”

“Tex.”

“Pardon?”

“That’s my name. Tex.”

He is a charming bastard. You’re not falling for it. You just gotta keep telling yourself that.

“Obviously an alias.” With the tip of your tennis shoe you nudge his big booted foot out of the aisle. “You’re gonna hurt someone with them things.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want that.”

You were not playing footsie with this gorgeous stranger. You were just moving a tripping hazard.

You’re not falling for it.

You’re not so convinced either, as you go to make his drink.

***

A little later, when you bring out his burger and fries, he asks, “Why don’t you set with me a while?”

You roll your eyes, withdrawing a roll of silverware from your apron. “I can’t sit down and jaw with you, I’ll get fired.”

He gives you a pouty face, and it should be illegal for a grown-ass-man to look so cute. “When’s your break?”

“Not for hours,” you lie.

“I’ll wait for you, darlin’.”

You snort in answer to that, even while a storm of butterflies goes crazy in your belly.

“Surely you have somethin’ better to do.”

He shrugs. “I just finished a job. Takin’ time for a little vacation on my way home.”

“Oh yeah? What do you do?”

“Erm…I’m in situational…solutions…management.”

“Wow. That’s not vague at all. You in the mob or somethin’?” you tease.

He lifts a brow, but doesnt answer immediately. It gives you an uneasy feeling, before he flashes that good ol’ boy smile again.

“Wouldn’t that be some shit?”

Sometimes you get feelings about things, and there is something about this man that makes you uneasy. You think your first instincts were right about him. He needs to be kept at arm’s length. Or maybe the proverbial ten foot pole would be more ideal. The sooner he moves on down the highway, the better.

He lingers long after his burger and shake are gone, people watching, looking out the window…and looking at you. You can feel his gaze on you, like he is a wolf waiting patiently in the treeline for his opportune moment. You have to walk past him after taking a family their order of food, and he asks you, “So what do you do for fun in a little town like this?”

“We’re all Baptists ‘round here, mister, no fun allowed.”

He scoffs, eyes still shining, but you can tell, his patience is finally wearing a little thin. Well, good. Hopefully he’ll get the hint and go. You’re sure a man who looks like him, tall and strapping and handsome as a movie star, is used to women throwing themselves at him. Maybe he thought you’d be a quick score because you’d be grateful for the attention. Boy howdy, did he read you wrong.

“Did I see a sign for a rodeo a street back?”

“Yeah, the fair and rodeo’s here this weekend.”

“Not your idea of fun?”

“Yes and no. I don’t like seein’ the animals get mistreated.” Not all of them were, of course. But the boys could be a little rough when they were roping the young steers, and you knew you’d have a bone to pick with the owner of the local petting zoo later.

“Huh. No, that’s not fun. Someone should do something about it.” That sparkle has returned to those polished onyx orbs, and you are equal parts intrigued and wary.

“Easier said than done, believe me.”

“We should team up tonight. Give ‘em hell.”

You raise an eyebrow to that. Is he asking you out? Your heart does a little flip, before leaping in a swan dive to splat on the pavement. Don’t be stupid.

“I don’t think so.”

“Aww, come on, honey, give me a chance. I’m not a bad man.”

He’s charming as a snake with an apple to sell, and you’re pretty sure he’s lying.

“That’s exactly what bad men say.”

“What would a sweet thing like you know about that?”

You sigh, suddenly feeling about fifty years older than you are. “I know enough.” You don’t really mean to, but in a tick you can’t quite break you brush your hair behind your ear, touching the scar on your temple from the last time Donnie beat the hell out of you. The flesh is still raised, if not faded, the span of a few years softening the evidence, if only on the outside.

You move your hand as soon as you realize what you’re doing, but not before this sharp-eyed man before you notices. His affable expression darkens, and you decide you would not like to meet him in a dark alley on a moonless night. “Give me a name, darlin’.”

For a moment you are taken aback. You don’t know this man, and he doesn’t know you. The offer to play white knight for you is both titillating, and tiresome, if you’re being honest. You’ve heard it before from men who wanted to impress you. None of them panned out. No one wants to take on Donnie Barksdale.

“I don’t need a man to protect me. I’ve got a shotgun for that. You want any dessert?”

Like flipping a switch, he grins up at you, and though he is being friendly, there is still a hint of fang in it, like a wolf on the scent of something to hunt.

“I believe you, honey. I better skip the pie. Gotta watch my girlish figure.” He pats his slim waist, and you can’t stop yourself from looking. Inwardly, you sigh. With your lip between your teeth you add up his final bill on your notepad. “Feel free to add your phone number on there,” he teases, to which you just shake your head sadly.

“There are plenty of pretty girls in this town who will be more than happy to entertain you, Mr. Tex,” you assure him.

Again, he shoots you that pout, and jesus god it should be illegal in twenty states, it gives you such a high.

“But none of them are you, darlin’.”

You roll your eyes, even if you kinda feel like you’re floating on a cloud right now. Goddammit.

“You can nurse your broken heart over at TJ’s by the creek, it’s where everyone goes around here.”

“Including you?”

“No.”

“Hmm, Miss Hard To Get. You’re really gonna make me comb through the whole crowd to find you at the fair tonight?”

“Who said I’m going to the fair tonight?”

“My gut.”

You hand him his check with a smile that does not hide your annoyance. “You can pay at the register.”

You hide in the back, finally taking your break, and deep in your idiotic heart you are sad to see him go. You hear the engine of the vintage sportscar rev from all the way in the kitchen, and you come out just in time to see the back end of him rolling down the road.

Good riddance. You think it, but a part of you doesn’t really agree. Ah well. You’ve always had a weak spot for strays, but that one would have taken the cake. He was A Bad Idea™ and you were much better off without him.

When you go to check the table you see he’s left you a cash tip that will cover your feed bills for a whole month, and your knees go a little weak.

***

When your shift ends you get in your old car and head home, out of town, down the highway and through the woods, to the old farmhouse your grandparents left to you. Maybe you won’t be on the cover of Country Living any time soon, but the battered old clapboard house is home, and has been home to members of your family since the mid 1800s.

Now, it is also home to the assortment of rescued animals you have picked up along the way. If your grandmother, god rest her soul, knew you kept a five-foot tegu lizard in an enclosure in her parlor she would probably expire all over again. But then again…if anyone had ever forgiven you for your stranger quirks, it was your Mawmaw.

Your parents, not so much, which was ironic, considering. There was a reason the family farm went to you and not your mother. She never really got the hang of the whole adulting thing, falling in “love” with dirtbag after dirtbag after your parents divorce, ping ponging between bouts of addiction and religious righteousness. How you came to dread the words, “I am saved!”

You find it funny, that the people who bang their bible the hardest are usually the ones who have the biggest sins to answer for.

But when it came to bad decisions, maybe your apple didn’t fall far from the tree, considering your ex, but in your defense you grew up with Donnie Barksdale. His family’s land adjoined yours, and they had been in this holler just as long as your own ancestors had. They were well regarded around your tiny rural community, and half the folks in your town could hardly believe the rumors of the horrible things that man used to do to you. The other half thought you must have been asking for it–what can you count on in these parts, if not good ol’ fashioned Christian misogyny?

Once upon a time, Donnie Barksdale had been your best friend. You ran wild through the woods in your youth, building forts and catching critters. You fished in his pond and played in the hayloft of your grandparents’ barn. Then you got a little older, and your shirt filled out and the hormones kicked in, and maybe it was to no one’s surprise when you became lovers. Highschool sweethearts to a married couple, right after graduation. You could have gone to college on a scholarship, but Donnie wanted you home.

It was easier to control you that way, you came to find out.

He didn’t beat on you at first. It took a while, for the disappointments of real life to set in. He never got drafted to play pro ball, and he was too proud to take up an honest trade. The pressures of living in a depressed rural area, with no good jobs and few good prospects, took their toll. Reagan-era policies made it easy for corporations to run all the little brick-and-mortar businesses into the ground, and trickle-down economics left your little community behind. Alcohol, meth, and Walmart filled in the voids.

With nothing better to do, Donnie started having affairs, and drinking too much, and when he finally got home he took his frustrations out on you.

You try not to think about it now, but you do, every day. You’re not sure what hurt more: the actual physical beatings, or the betrayal by the boy who you’d loved madly since you were just eight years old.

But there is something to be said, for the healing to be found with your hands in the dirt. You were such a broken thing, when you took over your grandmother’s overgrown garden years ago. Now, your little farmstead is a pollinator’s paradise filled with flowers and food. There’s something about sitting in the quiet with the butterflies flitting around that makes you feel like you’ve done something right in the world. You feed the birds, and you care for your animals, and you take life day by day.

It’s a simple life, but a good one. You’ve run a long road, but you’re finally starting to feel like you’re going to be ok.

And, you intend to keep it that way. That means not going for rides in fast cars with handsome strangers, no matter how lonely you are, or if it seems like he would be good to you, even if just for a night.

You did good today, sticking to your guns.

You need another man in your life like you need a hole in the head. “Boys are so rude,” you expound to your chickens, and your hens seem to cluck in agreement, their feathers so silky soft against your ankles as they wait for a treat. The last rooster who hurt your girls for his own gratification lost his head and ended up in your cookpot. If only it was so easy to dispose of belligerent human males.

You get your scoop, doling out some extra scratch grains to lure the chickens into their pen to lock them up early.

You’ve got somewhere to be.

As it turns out, Tex was absolutely right about your intention to go to the rodeo, though you’re pretty sure he was blowing smoke about trying to find you. It’s a small town, but everyone will be there. You’ll be a needle in a haystack, and you take some comfort in that as you put on a black sunflower print sundress and your battered boots.

You feed the cat, the dogs, your ancient conure parrot, and lock up the house. You have to go see a man about a horse–and you’re kind of dreading it.

***

You are not the only adult in the petting zoo area, which is some small relief. It takes a little while for Dale to even notice you are there, sneaking his skin and bones mini horse molasses treats from your purse in an attempt to help the poor thing put on some weight. It’s starving and its hooves need a trim and you could strangle Dale Manes with your two bare hands.

You pass his place on the way home, and you regularly throw hay and treats over the fence in an attempt to feed his animals–something he clearly doesn’t seem to think it’s necessary to do much.

He’s a cousin of Donnie’s, which has never kept him from ogling you. With some extra cash in your purse thanks to your handsome stranger, you’re hoping that maybe you can sweet talk Dale into relinquishing ownership.

Maybe it’s a lost cause, but maybe you can’t help but think about how many times people had looked at you in a bedraggled state, knew you needed help, and kept on walking with a “Bless her heart,” muttered under their breath.

This little horse gobbles his treats down and bumps his head against you for scritches, leaning on you like a dog.

“Y/n, I see you spoiling my horse.”

You grit your teeth, before facing the music. “Hi Dale.”

“You know, I got you on my game cam trespassing on my property.” You can’t tell by his tone if he’s mad or not. It feels like you’re walking into a trap. Donnie used to play this verbal kind of game with you. It must be genetic.

“Trespassing’s a strong word,” you say, pouring extra sugar into your drawl.

“I don’t know what else to call it. Illegal feeding of animals?”

You give him a sheepish smile, when all you really want to do is kick him in the balls.

“Oh come on, Dale. You know this horse is skinny. It’s ok, I know how things go. I had some extra so I spread it around.”

It is not ok and you have literally lived on ramen cups some months so your animals could eat well and get the medicine they need.

“Well ain’t you a peach?”

“Dale?”

He leers at you, sidling closer, and your skin crawls.

“Yeah, honey?”

“Sell me this horse.”

He gives you a look. “You’d ask a man to sell his livelihood?”

You happen to know he gets by on government draw and dealing pain pills just fine.

“I like Ziggy. He’s my buddy. Let him come live with me.” The little horse in question is trying to nuzzle into your purse for more molasses treats.

Dale takes a step closer, and it takes every iota of your self control not to step back.

“You really are a piece of work.”

“Excuse me?”

“You conniving little bitch. I know it was you that called Animal Welfare on me last month.”

The sweetness drains from you like a flushing toilet. “Fat lot of good it did, I guess.”

“You little bitch. You know how lucky you are? If you were my wife I would have killed you and buried you somewhere no one would find you.”

“Wow. I guess that’s why your wife ran off to Florida.”

“Cunt.” He raises his hand to you, right here in front of children and mothers and God and the whole damn town.

“What’s goin’ on here?” A strong arm loops around your waist, pulling you back out of striking range. “We horse tradin’, or are we pickin’ fights we can’t win?”

With wide eyes you look up to see the man from the diner, somehow even more handsome than before because he’s cleaned up and changed his shirt, the good looking bastard.

“Were you raisin’ your hand to this lady?” he asks. His tone is jovial, but there is an edge beneath the surface that does not escape your notice. You learned the hard way, how to dissect the subtle cadences of a man’s words.

“Believe me when I tell you she deserves it.”

“Huh.” Out of the blue Tex’s fist connects with Dale’s jaw, knocking him out cold. Ziggy startles at the body hitting the ground, darting on his little legs to the other side of the enclosure. All the families stare, shocked that someone would dare, though no one rushed in to see if Dale was still breathing.

“Well, that’s our cue to go.”

“What?”

You are in shock, and it does not even occur to you to fight him when Tex takes your hand and pulls you through the crowd. You do not stop until you are on the other side of the fairgrounds, amidst the games and the dubiously safe rides.

“Oh. My. God,” you wheeze, when finally you pause by the Whirl-A-Gig. “Do you know what you just did?”

“You’re welcome,” he answers with that shit-eating grin, and you almost want to sock him yourself.

“You should have let him hit me!”

“What?” Eyes wide, Tex is incredulous before you.

“God, I didn’t plan it that way but it would have been perfect! He woulda gone to jail, and the county would have to seize his animals.” At least the local Human Society would feed the poor things.

Tex blinks, looking down at you like you’ve grown a second nose. “Did you miss the part where he was going to knock your head off?”

“I’m used to it,” you muse absently, annoyed to the soles of your boots that you missed this opportunity. “If I were you I’d git while the gettin’s good. The whole Barksdale clan is going to come after you now.”

His grin is like a baring of fangs. “Sounds like fun.”

“Huh. You ain’t gonna think so when ten of ‘em roll up on you in your fancy sportscar.”

“Meh. I can handle a pickup truck full of cousin fuckers. Wouldn’t be the first time.”

A chortle escapes you before you can stop it. You cross your arms defensively, trying not to smile.

“The Barksdales are some tough customers, mister.” You had to be, to survive back in the day, but somewhere along the line it just got…out of hand.

“Sounds like you know ‘em pretty well.”

“I was married to one of them for the worst six years of my life. Believe me, you don’t want none of what they got.”

Tex takes this opportunity to step into you, and now that the excitement is over you are reminded that you have six feet of pure cowboy standing in front of you. The pretty tooled embroidery on his shirt emphasizes how wide his chest is. You can smell the heady spiced scent of his cologne, and it hits you like a drug. Goddammit.

“Sounds like you’re worried about me, darlin’.” His voice is like warm molasses.

“Psshh. You better worry about yourself,” you grouse with extra venom, annoyed. “I don’t think you have the sense God gave a chicken.”

He chuckles at that, and you try to back away. Try is the operative word, because he has your hands in his again. “Oh come on, darlin’, don’t leave me yet. Is this the thanks your knight in shining armor gets?”

His hands engulf yours, long strong fingers wrapped around your palms, and you feel more than a little weak inside.

“Knight in shining armor my fanny. Your little stunt is going to get us both hurt.”

“My stunt? Were you or were you not trying to buy that horse when you knew damn well he wasn’t going to sell it to you?”

You sigh. “Well…I had a little windfall burnin’ a hole in my pocket, and I had to try.”

He pulls you a little closer–amazingly, you let him. “That’s not exactly what I had in mind when I left that for you.”

“Oh yeah? What did you have in mind?”

“Well…” Goddammit, if he does not take the opportunity to sidle even closer, so that your fronts are nearly pressed together, and you think you just might faint. “I was hoping you might treat yourself to somethin’ nice. Like a pretty new dress.” He looks you up and down, making a low sound in his throat of appreciation. “But I see you already had that handled. Mmm, you look good.”

You sigh, a long suffering sound of exasperation. Is there something wrong with this man? Because he can’t seem to stop running his mouth. And maybe you’re losing your mind, but…you’re kind of starting to like it.

“I think you might have a screw loose, mister.”

He grins wide for you, in that moment looking every bit the outlaw, with his shining dark eyes and hair brushing his collar.

“That may be true…” He leans down towards you, and you think you just might die. “But I’m pretty sweet.” You’re afraid he’s going to try to kiss you, and you’re even more afraid you’re going to let him. But he just bumps your forehead with his before paying you that devil-may-care grin, and you swear your heart stops in your chest.

This man is such a mistake, but you feel your defenses dissolving like sugar in hot tea.

“Want to split a funnel cake?”

As it turns out, it’s the nail in your coffin.

“Yeah.”

He grins like a man who just won the lottery, tucking you into his side under the shelter of his well-muscled arm like you’ve always belonged there, and goddammit if it doesn’t feel good to feel protected. Too good, maybe. It’s something you cannot allow yourself to get used to.

“I knew you’d come around, darlin’.”

It’s been a while since you made a big mistake. Like…less than an hour, at least, so you guess you were due up. As bad decisions go… You look this tall cowboy up and down, his denim-clad legs about a mile long swaggering beside you.

“How did you find me?” it occurs to you to ask.

“I remembered what you said about liking animals, and figured the petting zoo would be a good place to start.”

You pause in your step, almost tripping as you look up at him. Maybe it shouldn’t be this surprising, that a man actually listened to something you said. But god. It twists and squeezes something inside you. It’s painful and wonderful and you really should run before this gets out of hand. But he is looking down at you with those smoldering dark eyes, and a part of you already knows that it’s too late.

***

“So, my babygirl likes animals,” muses Tex beside you, taking a bite of funnel cake with a grin. “Let me guess. You’ve got a whole house full of strays.”

You sigh, tearing off a piece, a good crispy bit with plenty of powdered sugar. “And a barn.” You have chickens and ducks and rabbits and goats that came to you post-Easter after people realized the fuzzy little things turned into full grown animals that needed housing and room. You have a conure that outlived its previous owner, and a bulldog whose tongue doesn’t quite fit in her mouth, and the world’s only sweet chihuahua who loves to snuggle and needs medication that seems to get more and more expensive every time you have to buy it. The reptiles came to you from a family whose child changed their mind, and the cat just kinda showed up at your door one day, the way they do…

Most men who hear the extent of your menagerie swiftly run in the other direction. They think you’re a hoarder, or if they stick around they want to be the sole focus of all your attention–and it’s just not going to happen. They leave after a month or so, or you run them off.

You have no reason to think this won’t end the same way.

“That’s alright, darlin’. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with havin’ a soft heart for critters.”

They all say that at first.

Ah well. It’s not like you’re looking to get married again, anyhow. You just…get a little lonely, sometimes, when it’s just you and the dogs and darkness outside.

“Hmm. That’s not the review I usually get. So what about you? You know I have to ask if you’re really from Texas.”

He grins. “Guilty. But I live in L.A. now.”

“Oh yeah? Are you an actor?”

“I was a stuntman for a little while.”

“Anything I’ve seen?”

He laughs, an open guffaw of mirth that makes his eyes shine and your heart fill to bursting. “Well, you look like a diehard fan of Death Charger II.”

“Oh yeah, I used to watch that with my Grandma,” you tease.

He snorts and pulls off another piece of pastry. “It was fun for a while, but I could tell I was just going to end up with a broken body and an empty bank account.”

“So…what do you do now?”

He looks up at you through those long dark lashes, and you swear to god your heart does a pirouette in your chest.

“I can’t really talk about it,” he tells you, which you guess is actually a more honest answer than feeding you some bullshit lie. “Pays well, though.”

“Okay…that’s not creepy at all.”

He pays you that open grin and offers you the last little crunchy morsel from his fingertips. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head, darlin’. You’re in good hands.”

After a long pause you take the bite, your lips just barely brushing the tips of his fingers. But it ignites a fire in his eyes that has you squirming in your seat, your thighs unbearably moist. Thank god you’re wearing a black dress.

“Let’s walk around,” he proposes, and you agree, even if you’re afraid your legs might not work anymore.

***

Hand in hand, you wander the fairgrounds, people watching, talking, and playing a few games. Tex is fun, and he is sweet, never once letting go of your hand, except during the clown toss which he swears is rigged (and you agree). He makes a crack about his balls being too big to fit in its mouth, and you break down in a giggling fit as the two of you walk away. It feels a little bit like magic, wandering around amidst the bright lights and the warm night and for the first time in a long time, you realize you’re not afraid of running into one of Donnie’s clansmen with an axe to grind or family honor to hold up or some other testosterone-driven bullshit that terrorizes your waking hours and your nightmares.

“Haunted house?”

“No way.”

“Swings?”

“Don’t trust them.”

“Roller coaster?”

“I like my spine aligned right where it is, thank you.”

“How ‘bout the ferris wheel?” Tex proposes with a lift of brows, and even though you know exactly what he’s up to, you finally agree. Tucked into the tiny bucket together in a space that is not meant for adults but god is it lovely to sit with your side molded to his, Tex sneaks his arm around you with a come-hither curl of lips.

“Don’t even think about it,” you warn him with a venom you absolutely do not feel at this point. You make a show of leaning away, even though there’s absolutely nowhere for you to go in the little compartment.

“Oh, I’m thinkin’ about it,” he assures you with a devilish glint in his eye, pulling you closer, and off you go in a big vertical circle. It is fun, to see all the lights and the people below, and the rodeo round pen on the other side of the grounds.

Then the ride stops with a grinding halt that doesn’t feel quite right. The two of you are at the very apex of the wheel, on top of the world. You look around, a little nervous. Oh god, please don’t let you get stuck here.

“It’s alright, darlin’” he soothes you, with a wolfish grin that is not comforting at all.

You can see the roping event with a bird’s eye view. You flinch as a cowboy throws a loop around a steer’s neck, jerking it around. At least the second cowboy misses the ankles. You stick your tongue out at them, knowing no one can see.

“Aww, that little grass puppy’s fine,” Tex tries to assure you. “They’re pretty tough.”

Once upon a time your family made part of their living running cattle. You know they’re tough, but that doesn’t mean it’s fair to treat them that way just for fun. “There are ways to train them without the rope, you know. They’re very food motivated.”

“But what’s a cowboy without his rope, honey?”

“A farmer.”

He chuckles at that. “It just lacks a certain prestige, don’t it?”

“Fuck you very much. My family’s been farming since before this place was even a state.”

He chuckles at your fiery response, clearly enjoying getting your goat. “Erm–no offense.”

“Pssh. It’s not about prestige. It’s men and their testosterone poisoning, always havin’ to show off at everyone else’s expense.” You’re sure he won’t like it, but you say it anyway. You wait for him to get surly, like all men do when you say what you’re really thinking, and it occurs to you that maybe you should have waited until you’re not trapped in a tin can of an amusement ride with him before insulting him.

“Hmm. Well…there might be somethin’ to that.”

He could have knocked you over with a feather…if you weren’t already mashed into an enclosed seat with him.

“Yeah, there might be,” you say more softly, quickly looking away when he tries to meet your eyes.

“Hey now.” He strokes your arm with his fingertips lightly, drawing little circles and driving you crazy. “We’re silly creatures, ain’t we? I get it.”

The fact that this man, who is 6 feet plus of pure masculine energy, would say such a thing to you–well frankly it blows you the fuck away.

“Showin’ off is fine,” you sigh, still unable to meet his eyes. “It’s just…why does someone always have to get hurt for the sake of it? Usually…someone innocent.”

“You’re right,” he agrees gently. “It shouldn’t be that way.”

Now you do get up the courage to look at him, though it feels like you’re drowning when you do. You really thought you had this man’s number. He dresses like a cowboy and drives a vintage muscle car, walks with James Dean swagger and he even punched a man out for you not but over an hour ago. But here he is, talking to you…like women matter. Like you matter.

“We’ve been up here a really long time,” you muse, blinking the tears out of your eyes while you peer over the side.

“Ah well. I’m sure they’ll get us down eventually.” He does not seem worried at all. “I like the view.” He’s looking at you while he says it, curling a little lock of hair from the nape of your neck around his finger, and an embarrassing shudder gallops down your spine. “Hmm, someone’s sensitive,” he says with a little smile.

You shoot him a glare out the corner of your eye. You don’t think you’ve convinced him by half.

“It’s just cold up here.”

It is the tail end of summer, and still 80 degrees out with the sun down.

“Sure it is, sweetheart.”

You sigh, and you don’t know how it’s possible, considering your position, but somehow he seems to sidle closer.

“Tex?”

“Yeah, beautiful?”

You don’t really know what you intended to say–you look at his mouth, those full, well-drawn lips, and you forget how to breathe for a few crucial seconds. You are lightheaded, the world spinning as he closes the distance, and gently presses his mouth to yours.

Someone moans, and only belatedly do you realize it’s you.

You feel him smile against your mouth, before going in for the kill, his long fingers sliding up into your hair to hold you to him. If you’d felt trapped you would have fought him, no matter how stupid and no matter how high up you were sitting in this rattletrap of a ride held together with rusty bolts and bubblegum. But you feel…free, like for a few blessed moments, you’ve found a part of yourself you left somewhere. A part of yourself you needed, even though you didn’t realize it at the time of losing it.

You let this man devour you, his tongue sliding against yours in a dance you feel all the way in your clit. Pressing your thighs together does not help at all, and he smiles again like he knows exactly what your problem is. When his paw of a hand settles just above your knee, squeezing the soft flesh of your thigh, his thumb finding its way just past the hem of your dress, you smack your hand over his. “Hold up, cowboy,” you pant, knowing you sound ridiculous but unable to put any real steel in your tone.

His eyes glitter like the night sky as he pulls back to look at you, breathing heavy through his nose. “You sweet little thing. I could just eat you up.” He nibbles your lower lip again, and you think you might expire. He doesn’t force the issue, his hand staying right where you’re holding it. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears, a steady timpani roll that does not help with your lightheadedness. The carriage sways slightly in the summer breeze, and you’re not sure that you’re not floating in mid air with nothing to catch you. Your grip on his hand tightens, desperately seeking something to ground you. You’re not sure if this is a panic attack, or vertigo, or unadulterated lust.

“Don’t get too full of yourself…but I think I might faint.”

The hunger in his expression turns into concern. “You alright, darlin’?”

“Just…hold on to me, ok?”

“Alright, alright. You gotta breathe for me though. Deep breath.” You do as you’re told. “Then out.” You do this, and you close your eyes, and you start to feel better just as the wheel finally starts to turn again.

As excruciatingly fun as it was to be squashed together with this delicious specimen of a man, you are so grateful when it’s time to get out and put your feet on terra firma once more. Tex steadies you with an arm around your waist, and you just happen to be looking up at the right time to catch the ferris wheel operator’s conspiratorial wink at your ad hoc date.

“Sonofabitch. Did you bribe him to stick us up there?”

Tex chuckles, flinching as you poke him in the ribs. “Hey, you ain’t even met my Mamma yet!”

“Did you?” you demand, unrelenting in your attack. He wiggles like he is ticklish, and you feel like you have stumbled upon crucial intelligence of the enemy.

“I might have slipped him somethin’...”

“You imp! I thought we were stuck!”

He is laughing as you tickle him and poke him, until maybe your fingernail goes a little too far in between his ribs and he grabs you up with a growl that you feel in your loins, putting a stop to your antics with your arms pressed to your sides and your body pressed to his. “You ok? I didn’t know you were scared of heights.”

You’re not really. Scared of feeling things, is another matter.

“I’m ok.”

“Good.” He dips his head to kiss you again, and you let him for about 2.5 seconds before turning your head.

“Tex…”

“Yeah, honey?”

“I think…I think I better go home.”

His expression falls like you kicked his puppy. “Oh. Did I…do somethin’? I’m sorry, darlin’.”

He did somethin’. He’s done everything right, and suddenly you are scared shitless of where this could lead.

“No, I’ve had fun,” you tell him honestly. “But I have to work tomorrow, and I’m tired. I should go home.”

“Oh.” He sticks out that pouting lip, and it really should be illegal for a grown man to look so adorable. “Can I…come see you for lunch then?”

“I guess…I can’t stop you.”

“Would you want to though?”

Therein lay the million dollar question.

“Maybe not?”

He smiles, and it feels like a special gift, just for you. “Alright. Tomorrow then. Let me walk you to your car at least.”

Considering what you got up to earlier that evening, it wasn’t a bad idea. “Ok.”

You exchange one last lingering kiss before he tucks you down into your driver's seat and makes ao show of buckling you in. You know it's a ploy to feel you up a little but it makes you giggle anyway. “Tex…I can buckle my own damn seat belt.”

“I know, darlin’.” He leans on the roof of your car, looking down at you like you’re something precious, preventing you from closing your door. You need to go because if you stay in his company any longer you are going to melt into a pile of goo.

“Tex…”

He sighs. “Alright, fine. Tomorrow. You better be ready to take your break with me.” He makes sure your legs are out of the way before shutting your door and tapping on the roof. Why do men do that, like a car is a horse? Giddyup. You think it would be horrifyingly hilarious, if your late-model car decided to play it’s occasional game of let’s not start until you try five times. But no, the old soldier dutifully responds to the turn of your key, and carries you away through the grass parking lot, onto the highway, and away from the man you’re afraid you would like to curl up in bed with and not leave for a month.

That man is pure trouble…and you are pretty sure you want more of him.

#tex johnson #tex johnson x you #keanu reeves #small town au #tex johnson x reader #keanu reeves x reader #donnie barksdale #donnie barksdale x you #past mention at least #this is not a pro donnie fic im sorry 😆#small town girl tex fic

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melinoelliones · 1 year

Text

BLACK BUTLERS COMING BACK BLACK BUTLERS COMING BACK BLACK BUTLERS COMING BACK BLACK BUTLERS COMING BACK BLACK BUTLERS COMING BACK BLACK BUTLERS COMING BACK BLACK BUTLERS COMING BACK BLACK BUTLERS COMING BACK BLACK BUTLERS COMING BACK BLACK BUTLERS COMING BACK BLACK BUTLERS COMING BACK

Say hello to my husband <3 I was tryna wait till October to do Black Butler shit but now I gotta....

Reminder, how I interpret these characters may be different to how YOU interpret them, don’t jump me if you dislike what I say. X fem and X gn reader

This is more on the Undertaker before his ass takes off the hat side, so the jokey cheeky Undertaker. ALSO MANGA SPOILERS FOR THE LETTER W!!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He’s probably giggling to himself and mocking the noises and phrases you said during sex LMAOOOOO. Really tho he’ll defo pull the blankets over you and feed you one of them dog bone biscuits, kisses in abundance, nothing too crazy as he will probably leave while you sleep do to fuck knows what.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves our whole body, he examines it like crazy and he says it’s so “he can fit us for a coffin one day”...... I feel like he loves our throat though 100%

On him, he loves his hands and he takes VERY good care of them, fresh set n everything we all saw that shit

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Enjoys doing it on your entire front, all of it, top to bottom

Also loves it down your throat, you can never take it all at once so watching it trickle down the corners of your mouth alongside your spit and tears is everything to him

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Enjoys doing stuff while he has customers present, if you make a noise or people get suspicious he’ll laugh or do something stupid to get people off it

He has shamelessly got off to the thought of you, maybe even your underwear

He begs and he enjoys doing it

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He is quite experienced I’ll be honest

F = Favourite position (this goes without saying)

Riding in all ways possible, he wants you on him, grinding up against him whilst he helps you. Watching your needy face try to take everything in has him grinning like a crazy man

Missionary where your legs are over your head pretty much. You pushing his hair to the side as he’s panting and whimpering slightly, you know he’s close but he won’t stop

Any position where you are half hanging out a coffin, kinda like stuck in a wall but your stuck half out a coffin? He probably made a custom one JUST for this. Hearing your moans echo off the walls of the coffin keeps him going.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Very goofy, keeps the jokes going THROUGHOUT

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

It’s pretty wild down there imma be real

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He is always making jokes and sometimes being cocky but he’ll always show an intimate side straight after

“F~Fuck just like that, please please keep going” he’d choke out laughing, mocking what you had just moaned out. “Don’t give me that face, I want to hear more of it” he’d laugh once more at your pout, pulling you into a kiss whilst pushing deeper into you.

Sum like that

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

A lot and he has NO shame in it. It’s pretty shocking how often he can do it. Sometimes he’ll stay pent up just to get off when he knows you’re coming home as he knows you love when he’s a whimpering n babbling mess, maybe you’ll even decide to help him out?

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Blindfolds, he loves to mess with ALL of your senses while you can’t see

Knife kink and blood but its SUBTLE. You may or may not have seen him store away a bit of your blood though, wonder what he’s saving that for…..

Restraints, wants to tie you up around his shop

Toys for both of you, watching you desperately cry out to cum as he keeps turning off the vibe

Choking, he enjoys doing it while thrusting into you with full force, hearing you choke out moans and mumbles while he tightens his grip

Dacryphilia for sureeee, would examine your face and wipe your tears while fucking into you with no remorse. Even lets out a giggle or two while at it

“Well would you look at that, you’re crying my dear, such a pretty specimen indeed. Cmon you can hold out for me, just a bit longer and i’ll make you feel so so good”

Not sure if its a kink but pussy eating. He will sit there for as long as he can just eating you out till you're completely numb from the waist down.

"You haven't used your safeword yet you've cum 4 times in a row, is it too much for you yet hehe? Cmon, let me wipe those tears, you're too pretty to cry. Now how about I make it 6 times, or even 10 AHA, can you take all that my sweet sweet doll? Let's see shall we?" he'd smirk whilst shoving a couple digits into your already sopping core, tongue already making its way to your swollen clit. He would go on all night long if he could.

L = Location (favourite places to do they do)

Every corner of his store, if you can see it, you've done it there. Favourite would probably be on his desk though.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

YOU! JUST YOU! You are something he’s never seen before and the way you make him feel is unmatched.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Anything outside the shop or on ONE specific coffin.... Whats in there?

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He’s a munch, yes I said it

Begs to have you on his face, even if that beg is in riddles or him twisting the narrative

“Hehe cmon, you know you want to, have a seat my dear, it's all yours”

“I want to taste you just once more, cmon don’t be shy, I won’t bite, unless you want me to hehe”

He also loves receiving too though, you under his gown, even when customers are in and he’ll be giggling while starting to fuck your face on the other side of the desk

“Aha, look at you, you did brilliantly. You barely made a peep whilst they were here, such a special specimen indeed” he’d coo, pulling back his cloak to ease you off his cock, your tears mixed with his release rolling down your lower face.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s cheeky as fuck. Would start slow, then speed up to a perfect pace then as you are close slow all the way back down, to the point where it's technically edging and you can’t even get off. I can hear him giggling now

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He says “Come on my love, we can make it quick” then ya’ll are at it for an hour. Ultimate LIAR. It gets boring in his shop so ya’ll still do it often anyway

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Hell yeah but he knows you will never get caught. Just for entertainment you defo tried to get caught but he covered it up swiftly

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can go for a hot minute, like 5+ rounds. With his personality people could think otherwise but absolutely not.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

A sucker for a toy. He defo made a pocket pussy using YOURS, so when you aren’t with him he has a replica but he knows it's not exactly the same. Also has a vibe, he has sensitive nipples and we take FULL advantage of that

He loves to use toys on you too though, watching how they make your body react is quite fascinating. He can tell the difference between fake and his real thing though and he adores it, your needy face begging for the real thing is everything. Only he can make you feel certain ways

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Too much, but the orgasms he makes you reach after are always worth it

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

When he’s seriously into it he only grunts and dirty talks, otherwise it's the opposite, whimpering and cursing under his breath

“How does that feel my dear? You like it deep don’t you”

“Your body takes it so well, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to keep g~going much longer”

“Listen to yourself, all this dirty talk from such a sweet specimen?”

“A girl like you should be walking the streets of Soho, yet here you are taking the cock of an Undertaker. How did I get so lucky to have the dirtiest of them all stroll through my doors?”

“Aha, keep going love, i’m not finished just yet”

W = Wild card (a random dirty headcanon for the character)

Would consider making you into a puppet when you die and keeping you for…. Personal reasons

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Dude is pretty big so imma say 8/9 inches, more on the slenderish side but veiny

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Unusually high

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

He doesn’t, he’ll pretend to but go off once you’re asleep. Dudes got things….. to do.......

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muldermuse · 8 months

Note

please can we see more of jealous gator and maybe a pregnancy scare in two sinners?

i fuckin love these crazy kids

jealous gator is coming!!! i promise!!

pregnancy scare drabble below the cut

warnings: mentions of morning sickness, pregnancy terminations, slut shaming etc

part of the two sinners works

You’d been ill all week, unable to keep any food down and feeling a level of exhaustion that had settled deep in your bones. Gator had text to ask to meet up nearly every day but you honestly couldn’t think of anything worse than having a man near you right now. You’d called in sick and spent the week feeling very sorry for yourself whilst lying on the couch watching whatever trash was on the TV. Whenever you glanced in the mirror; you were taken aback by how awful you looked. Your eyes were dull with dark bags underneath and your skin was pale. Your stomach rumbled but the thought of food made you retch. A pang of raw pain struck your stomach and your nausea doubled as you thought, when was the last time you had a period?

Was it this month?

The month before?

The past few weeks had been a lot, your job becoming overwhelming and life had begun taking steady, yet hard, digs at you. First, you got a flat tyre, then you dropped your phone and smashed your screen. Later the same week, your favourite jeans ripped at the thigh seam and to top it all off, this new guy you’d been speaking to had got back with an ex.

So yeah, it was fair to say that your focus had not been on your menstrual cycle.

Without getting changed or bothering to make yourself look more presentable, you grab your keys and head to your local store to buy a test.

***

Gator was bored. This was the kind of day shift where usually he’d drop by your place and grip his hands into the fact of your ass as you rode him. He’d been desperate to see you all week but you’d been too ill. The thought of your body and the things you could do to make him feel good plagued his mind. He’d spent every night this week fisting his cock in the shower to thoughts of you whilst Glenda was crocheting in the next room. A trill ring snaps him out of his thoughts and he groans before answering- it’s Glenda.

“Hi hon, everythin’ okay?” he sounds exasperated but he knows that Glenda won’t pick up on that. Sometimes, he thinks that Glenda calls him just to hear her own voice.

“Yeah yeah, all good hon. Hey, guess who I saw buying a pregnancy test at the store?”

He knows that it’s you before she even says your name.

He feels the blood drain from his face and Glenda’s voice fades into static in the background.

This cannot be fucking happening.

When was the last time you had slept together? Would you keep it? Is he going to be a dad? He thinks that you’d be a great mom but before that thought can even embed itself further in his brain; he pushes it away.

He tunes back into Glenda’s voice as she continues to talk to herself, “well y’know hon it’s like I said, with that many guy friends she has- somethin’ like this was bound to happen, dontcha think?”.

“Yeah hon, listen I gotta go alright? I’ll uh- I’ll see you at home” She tells him that she loves him before he hangs but he doesn’t say it back.

He puts the sirens on the car as he races to your home. The thoughts in his head are spinning that quickly that he’s beginning to feel numb, becoming too overwhelmed to focus on anything but driving. He dumps his car on your front lawn and tries hard not to run into your home. He tries to take deep calming breaths with each step, he thinks of his father and how Roy would kill him if he ever found out. The door is unlocked so he lets himself inside.

***

The test is face down on your bathroom counter and so is your phone screen. The package promised instant results in ‘just three minutes’ and you’d set a timer on your phone. You know Gator’s footsteps, they’re always urgent and stomping on your stairs. His face is white as he walks through your bathroom door and makes eye contact with you.

You're sat on the rim of your bath, “Glenda?” you ask as he nods; his eyes wide in panic. You huff, “I fuckin’ knew I saw her at the store”.

He’s silent as he sits next to you, anxiety radiating off his body and his breath quick. Neither of you look at each other until the alarm rings out, you stop it with one tap and take a deep breath as you hold the test in your hand. It’s still turned face down so you don’t know the answer yet.

Your voice is shaky and you can feel tears threatening to pour down your face, “I don’t wanna look”.

Gator’s warm hand settles on your knee, his thumb rubbing in a calming motion; you don’t know if he’s doing this for you or for himself. “We don’t have to look yet”.

You’re both in limbo; unsure how much time has passed. It could be five minutes or it could be an hour. The sun is still high in the clear sky and shining through the small window in your bathroom. It’s becoming stiflingly hot but you feel paralysed with fear. You’ll have to research clinics where you can have a termination, are you going to have to travel out of state? You and Gator could never be a family but, maybe you could keep the child a secret. Maybe you could move out of state together and raise your baby together. Maybe, in another town, you could both start afresh. You could be young lovebirds who are looking forward to starting a family together. No one would have to know what you’d both run from. The baby would never have to know about their psychotic grandfather. You have options and you feel a wave of calm wash over you.

Before you can overthink it; you turn the test in your hands.

Negative.

Not pregnant.

Thank.

Fuck.

You both let out a shaky breath of relief.

“I’ve uh- I bought a few more, just in case it’s like a false negative or whatever. I’ll probably do two more now and then do one tomorrow maybe” you can feel the confidence returning to your voice.

“Yeah, of course, I’ll go sit downstairs just y’know- do what you gotta do” you both exchange a quick smile before Gator heads downstairs.

His heart is still pounding as he sits down on your couch, he isn’t sure if he’s relieved or upset. What the fuck is he thinking? Of course, he’s relieved. The two of you having a baby is completely out of the question. Maybe this scare should make him more concerned about sleeping with you and he considers that it could be time to stop this. His daddy is starting to pressure him more about proposing to Glenda and she’s dropping hints about marriage basically every day at this point. All these thoughts evaporate when you walk into the room holding three negative pregnancy tests. You straddle him and his hands grab your hips. You both spend the rest of the afternoon making out and trying to push the fear of the past few hours to the back of your mind.

He can’t stop this.

He can’t let go of you.

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wambos-storytime-corner · 6 months

Text

7 Deadly Diapers, Ch. 3: Gluttony pt. 3 (TW: Addiction, weight shaming)

“The.. the stuff in the.. um.. the gym bag—?“

“You mean your diaper bag? Ugh, yeah. I want you to put it on.” Whitney, feeling a new sense of power and independence smiled at the chance to put her husband well beneath her. Something had overcome her and she had begun to feel so free.

“But it’s so— so…” he gulped and tapped his fingers.

“So what, Ethan? Ironic? Poetic? Fitting? You have been treating me like shit so long and you think you get to just let me nurse you?— Which, don’t even get me started on how crazy that prospect is— but you seriously believe that you get to act like none of that ever happened? Nuh-uh. Think again. I wanna watch you put it on. Then MAYBE I’ll think about feeding you.” She reveled in the power bestowed to her by her wish. How this was all happening was far from being something she had on her mind. Her only concern was how to milk this miracle for all it was worth. Literally…

Her suddenly submissive husband wanted to retaliate but unfortunately there wasn’t a rebellious bone in his body that could override his lust for latching onto the generous nipple of his wife’s breasts. So, cringing, he soldiers on and swaddles himself into his diaper.

“That’s right.. plenty of powder. Top tapes first. No. No no. Ugh! I have to do everything for you don’t i…” taking charge she straps the remainder of the big hulking weight lifter into his shameful, powdery, prison-like pampers. Then came the onesie which was swiftly squeezed overtop of him, snapping it all shut. Unlucky for the big buff baby, it was just tight enough in the crotch to make him constantly aware of the bulk under his butt and groin.

But even more bizarrely, he noticed an odd sensation hugging his arms and torso.. his burly, masculine physique was compressed and compacted beneath the soft tight leotard more and more before both him and his wife’s eyes until he was nothing but a scrawny, girlish wimp of a man. It looks like he’d struggle lifting a 10 pound box now! The onesie had eaten all that hard work and in turn his confidence shriveled along with it. He looked panicked at his wife who’s face was anything but empathetic. She just cackled down at her new harmless, weakling of a spouse basking in her and her wish’s devilish craftsmanship, punctuating it all with a full palmed grip on his plush rump.

“Dawww! There we go! God, don’t you look just darling…” she covered her lips with a malicious snicker, “Now how about you strike some poses for me and while you’re at it you can ask me EXACTLY what you want. And keep it extra polite Mr. ‘This body doesn’t happen from whining and eating cheat pizzas’.” She smirks looking at her meek little husband contentedly whilst pulling her phone out to snap pics.

Ethan grimaced at the mental quandary he found himself toiling with along with the mourning he felt for his once perfect body. He couldn’t admit his desires without undermining what he’d faulted Whitney with earlier. And with all that had been taken he couldn’t bear the thought of giving up his pride any further and admit he was wrong! All he had left was his integrity! His self-certainty! His sense of discipline against his own bodily urges and cravings!…

Which made the feeling of defeat all the more painful as his eyes returned to his wife’s gorgeous, Siren-like breasts. All he could do was lick his lips, strike a pose for his wife, and buckle under the crushing weight of his deepest desires.

“I’ll do anything for a taste of you. Please, Whitney…” his drool oozed down over his chin as he gave her the show of a lifetime.

“That’s mommy from now on. And that’s a good start. But anything really broadens the scope don’t you think? Anyone can SAY they’ll do anything, but I want to see actions. And I have an idea on how you can prove precisely that. So, if you really want your big, warm, juicy dessert.. you gotta clean your plate first, bubs~!”

(Sorry for the delay. Works been crazy and I had to get some extra photos! Hope this will make up for it! 🥰)

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sadie-bug345 · 6 months

Text

gang playing mario kart

i’m fr a god at mario kart /j BUT STILL i got me some life experience playing this game👇

ponyboy:

proud isabelle main

probably drives an actual kart instead of a bike

ACTUALLY LOCKS IN

my guy cannot carry a convo he will like zone out

rainbow road is the way to get him to lose the will to live 😭😭

he just keeps. falling. off.

rage quits and gets butthurt abt it the rest of the day🫶

johnny:

my guy gives a yoshi user

probably an actually solid kart/bike

RUTHLESS LEMME TELL YOU

if this boy gets ahold of even a green shell you are OUT of here

comes up from behind and wins like 80% of the time

iconic

sodapop:

probably lives for daisy or honestly mario

and then steve is luigi😭

he gets so hype when he’s winning

trash talks like no other

but unlike SOMEONE *ponyboy* he doesn’t really care when he loses

which is often i’m sorry man😔

he just gets distracted by the tracks and all the mystery boxes and power ups he just disassociates LMAOO

also spends too much time talking whilst playing and just falls back to 12th place ngl

darry:

he really tries to make sure everyone’s being a good sport

but he himself starts raging the second he hits a banana💀

lowk gives up and just stops playing halfway thru when he realizes he’s gonna lose and blames it on “all the work i gotta do around here…”

WE ALL KNOW YOU JUST CANT FACE REALITY

denial is the curtis brothers collective middle name😔✊

dally:

mains bowser or dry bones…only chooses cars based on how cool they look

gets the MOST pressed

acts like he doesn’t gaf cause people pressured him to play so he’s like

“ugh whatever fine i guess 🙄”

but the instant someone starts trashing on him or a he sees the red shell alert go off in the bottom of the screen

HE GOES FERAL

just calling everyone and the computers the most foul names

doesnt give up though cause “mama didn’t raise a quitter”

he just locks in and gets to second place but ends up losing so🫢

two-bit:

super fun to play with

hed start tweaking the second he hits a banana

gets grudges against computer players

he probably plays as waluigi ngl😭

if he’s not playing and you are he’s fr the best cheerleader

just adds that extra spice to every game🥰

steve:

like crazy intense💀

broseph will GET OUT OF HIS SEAT if he begins to either pass people or starts to lose

just gets as close to the screen as possible

claims his knowledge of cars allows him to select the best kart

lowk works cause why is he actually good LMAO

this idea was an amazing anon request that was a lot of fun to do!! anyways byeeee

#dallas winston #the outsiders #the outsiders sodapop #johnny cade #ponyboy curtis #outsiders #darry curtis #steve randle #two bit mathews #sodapop curtis

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howlingday · 4 months

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Master Hunters

Taiyang: So, you walked around, saw the city, racked up some wins, and got the guts to take on your ol' coach! Heh... You gotta do what you can, grind like crazy, and not let up, not even for a second!

Taiyang: The road to the top is long and hard, but that's why you gotta take it one step at a time. And that first step you took should always be something you're proud of.

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Pyrrha: Juniper is a smart girl. She's never attacked a human before, but...

Juniper: (Snorts, Stamps feet)

Pyrrha: She gets a bit moody when she smells a coward.

Juniper: (Steps closer, Chitters teeth)

Juniper: (In your face, Teeth baring)

Pyrrha: ...Mm. (Claps) That's it!

Juniper: (Trots back to Pyrrha)

Pyrrha: (Scratches ears) You want to be strong, right? Then never forget to always have the courage to take that first step.

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Nora: Wow! You're pretty good at this~!

Nora: (Jumps around) Remember, Nora-chan is a thunder sprite! So if you think like a thunder sprite, you'll move like one, too~!

Nora: Now, I want you to come back and help me sometimes. I'll make you the toughest thunder sprite there is!

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Yang: (Snaps fingers)

Yang: Yo, yo! This is Yang-O! Been rockin' n' sockin' since Beac-O!

Yang: With STYLE~! Just do it! C'mon! Crank that beat~!

Yang: Move your body! I wanna see ya move your body~!

Yang: ...No, no, no. Come on, man! Where's the HEAT~?

Yang: You gotta FEEL the rhythm! Feel it way down to your bones~!

Yang: Hittem wit dat summertime feel~!

Yang: Rock 'em up to da stratosphere~!

Yang: Give them all you got, all you love~!

Yang: Let 'em all know dat you're here~!

Yang: Yeah~! Now you've got it~!

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Klein: I'm very sorry, but I'm afraid Miss Schnee is far too busy.

Weiss: (Taps shoulder) Please, Klein. Allow me.

Weiss: I must say, you weren't half bad... at being thrown around, that is.

Weiss: Did you enjoy it? You must have. Why else would you have come all this way again?

Weiss: Oh? I'm wrong? Then maybe you're here to do some throwing around yourself?

Klein: Miss Schn-

Weiss: (Holds up hand) There's no need to be shy. Go ahead. Try to throw me.

Weiss: ...

Weiss: (Counter-grab, Tosses down)

Weiss: Oh, excuse me... I couldn't resist such an easy target.

Weiss: Throwing is about position and timing. If you haven't figured that out yet, then perhaps you and I should have another throw around?

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Blake: Don't hesitate. I'm ready when you are.

Blake: (Dodge, Dodge, Dodge, Dodge, Counter)

Blake: (Feint, Strike, Push)

Blake: (Dodge, Backflip away, Aerial dive)

Blake: (Jumps off head)

Blake: You're wasting your energy. Hit fast and with finesse.

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Jaune: (Sighs)

Jaune: (Dodges, Shoves)

Jaune: (Ducks, Kicks)

Jaune: (Groans, Turns away)

Jaune: (Counters super-move attempt)

Jaune: What are you doing?! Don't just blindly fire off attacks like that! Think before you act!

Jaune: ...Hah. At least you're no quitter. Alright, I can't say no to that kind of enthusiasm. Or, at least, if I did, it looks like you'll just keep coming back and trashing my place until I don't.

Jaune: Come on! One more round!

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Ren: (Quietly watches you train)

Ren: (Closes eyes)

Ren: (Sits, Meditates)

Ren: (Petal falls on hand, Doesn't react)

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Qrow: Right here.

Qrow: Here, have a drink.

Qrow: Here's a toast. To the day you became a student of the one and only Qrow Branwen.

Qrow: ...What's with that look? Relax, it ain't booze! I quit the stuff ages ago. This is an herbal remedy I learned from an old friend of mine. Trust me and take a swig.

Qrow: Haha! You like it? Really wakes you the hell up, huh?

Qrow: Just remember one thing, kid...

Qrow: WE deal the beatings, nobody else!

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Mercury: Huh? The hell is that supposed to be? Some kind of impression of me?

Mercury: ...Doesn't look half bad.

Mercury: Heh heh... Alright, you've got my attention now! NOW TRY AND KEEP IT.

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Ozcar: ...Tell me, have you ever heard of a girl named Salem?

Ozcar: She was an immortal witch who tried to destroy the world. She said it was in vengeance for being abandoned by her gods.

Ozcar: (Disappears)

Ozcar: (Behind you) Truly, she was the most evil of them all.

Ozcar: (Knocks you to the ground) Her obsession with magic made her forget the value of the human spirit, something she'd lost long ago.

Ozcar: (Jams Longest Memory into you) Please, hold still. I haven't quite got the hang of this just yet.

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You block, holding your arms across your body to protect yourself from the woman's might. However, she proves this ineffective by crashing her fist against your guard and easily smashing through it and cracking your chin with her devastating fist. You fly into the air as inhuman strength launches you to the sky. You fall and hit the ground as she turns to walk away.

You try to push yourself to your feet, but your body fails you though your spirit years to continue. You roll to your back, air leaving your lips as they split into a grin.

Salem: Oh? You dare laugh?

Salem: Hm... You look... Just like him...

She walks over to you, glaring down all the while with her menacing red eyes. Towering over you, she then swings her fist down, cracking the earth beneath you. Faster than lighting and harder than thunder, she easily breaks the cave floor, barely missing your head. Your body shakes with fear from the near-death you'd received.

Salem: ...Very well. I shall train you. And then, we shall see if you're still able to laugh.

#rwby #street fighter 6 #street fighter #street fighter vi #taiyang xiao long #yang xiao long #jaune arc #ozpin #oscar pine #mercury black #lie ren #qrow branwen #blake belladonna #weiss schnee #klein sieben #nora valkyrie #juniper #pyrrha nikos #salem

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elucienweekofficial · 3 months

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Elucien Fanfic Crossword Answer Key- Smut Day One

How did you do? It's our hope through this week of puzzles that folks are able to find an existing fanfiction that speaks to them! Consider these a small masterlist filled with recommendations from the community itself. Below you'll find every fanfiction recommended attached to the author who created it, added in the order they were submitted! Fics were also categorized to their best of our ability. Check them out below!

[Please check all tags before engaging!]

You Look Like Bad News by @the-lonelybarricade

I gotta have you, I gotta have you - Elain hated living next to Lucien Vanserra. Almost as much as she hated the girl he was fucking.

When You Move, I'm Moved by @ataraxiasflame

When Elain Archeron flees Nesta and Cassian's Mating Ceremony for a moment alone after an emotional experience, her mate follows her out of concern for what he feels through their bond, resulting in an evening neither had planned, but both had been wanting for ages.

I've been lost to you, sunlight (flew like a moth to you, sunlight) by @whatishowedyouinthedark

In all of her dreams, there is sunlight. That is the one constant in every single one Elain remembers after waking. And if there is no sunlight, she can still feel it beating against her skin in time with the heartbeat that has become a steady, comforting song in her mind. Sometimes it feels as if, when she dreams, she has woken from the sadness that is her reality into what should be her life.

or, the elucien breeding kink one :)

What We Wanted by @valamerys

Lucien’s first Fire Night as High Lord of the Spring Court puts he and Elain’s fledgling relationship in an awkward position.

The Fires Of Eventide by @animezinglife

A quiet evening. A secluded cottage in Spring.

Beasts Inside Us by @crazy-ache

“If you so much as spill a drop of her blood, I will gladly show you just what kind of beast I am. And you will find, once I’ve ripped your throat out with my bare hands, and burnt this manor and everyone inside to ash and bone, that I am something far, far worse than just a beast.”

While staying in the mortal lands with the Band of Exiles, Elain Archeron stumbles across a familiar face from her past. Only Graysen wants revenge. Her only hope is that her mate, Lucien Vanserra, can save her—in more ways than one.

About Damn Time by @strawbrerian-writes

Elain planned to have a quiet, cool day off. The universe took one look at her plans and said "bet."

They Say I Did Something Bad by @separatist-apologist

Then why's it feel so good?

Elain Archeron's fiance is a total stranger to her, though his family's reputation for cruelty and avarice is not. Dreading a lifetime with a cruel, cold man, Elain decides to have one last night of freedom. Attending an infamous masquerade ball, Elain meets a stranger who offers to show her pleasure beyond her wildest dreams. It's just one night of debauchery. What could possibly go wrong?

Oh, Lord Save Me by @separatist-apologist

“How come I never see you at confession?” he pressed. Elain almost screamed.

Lucien never saw her at confession because the phrase "forgive me father, for I have sinned," was the start of every filthy fantasy she’d ever had about him.

I'm Going Out Tonight by @separatist-apologist

He rolled his neck and Elain paused, drinking him in. Even with his red hair plastered to his face, sweat soaking through his thin band t-shirt, Lucien Vanserra was the hottest man she’d ever seen.

And bass players were so her type.

“What did you say?”

He grinned, resting a broad hand over his muscular chest. “I asked if you had a man.”

Her mind flashed an image of Graysen. Too busy with work and the woman he was sleeping with on the side. She was there to pretend she didn’t know about that, wasn’t she? Did Graysen ever answer that question honestly, besides?

Holding up her drink, Elain ran her tongue suggestively over the straw. Lucien’s smile sharpened, those russet eyes darkening with obvious want.

“I don’t remember.”

Sharp as Glass and Twice as Bright by @valamerys

When he speaks again, it’s a low rumble in his chest. “If you keep doing that, dove, neither of us is going to get any sleep.”

Heat coils in Elain’s stomach. “I’m not tired.”

[Elucien + classic THERE IS ONLY ONE BED WHAT DO.] [yes i just did one for each of my ships dont look at me im a monster]

End Game by @separatist-apologist

Lucien Vanserra has been in love with Elain Archeron for as long as he's known her. With time ticking down before her inevitable engagement to Graysen, Lucien only has one goal: convince her to be his

But Only If You Dare by @kingofsummer93

It all started innocently enough. A silly game, a drunken dare.

Except now Elain can't sleep.

And it's all because of him.

I'm Damned If I Do by @separatist-apologist

“Get it off your chest,” he told her dismissively, returning to his work.

Let her scream and yell. It would change nothing given Rhysand and Feyre were doing this purposefully to push them together. Had Elain guessed that, too? Had she decided he was the safer person to vent her rage into?

She strode into his office and, like a petulant brat, swept everything off his desk. Lucien glared, irritated with the mess she’d made—she’d inadvertently shattered a rather nice crystal vase he’d gotten from Dawn, wrecking the little blue plant within in her recklessness.

“By all means, get it off my desk as well,” he told her dryly. Her chest heaved in the pretty silver dress she wore, pressing her breasts up against the neckline. Lucien had to look at his hands to stop looking at her body, though she was closer than she'd ever been

Our Hearts Still Beat The Same by @zenkindoflove

"She stood on the bridge for a few minutes, hoping that the rain might wash away the seething anger and bottomless anguish that crackled under her skin. More, more, more, repeated again and again to a steady beat. His heart beat."

Elucien, Two-shot, Post-ACOSF. Part One is Cozy Tension. Part Two is all smut.

Can read this fic independent of the series. They are separate stories but connected by song inspirations.

Both Forever and Rather Die by @foundress0fnothing

Elain runs a sex cult. She’s looking for something new. Lucien is new.

save the date by @thelovelymadone

Elain Archeron has had a perfect life.

Prettiest girl in her grade, first sibling to be engaged and living thousands of miles away from home. But then, her then fiancé cheats on her at their engagement party after she cajoled her entire family to come thousand of miles for her engagement.

Now, after four years, she’s going to be brave. She’s going to go to her eldest sister’s wedding as the maid of honor and bring … a paid actor to be her boyfriend.

Despite the lingering trauma of her ex-boyfriend posting her phone number on Internet forums and refusal to share how her childhood crush broke her confidence at her engagement party—what could possibly go wrong?

Call Me Selfish, Call Me Wrecked by @crazy-ache

Like countless times before, they’re dangling Elain in front of him without a mention of her name. And for once, Lucien decides to selfishly take it. “I’ll marry her,” he pretends to investigate his nails, even if his heart is about to burst from his chest. “But only if she agrees to it as well. That’s my only condition.”

Elain agrees. Lucien learns the consequences of not shutting up.

A Dance In Winter by @animezinglife

While visiting the Winter Court leading up to Solstice, Elain and Lucien find some time alone.

talk refined by @temperedink

Newly mated Elain has pretty much adjusted to being fae after all this time. What she’s still hung up on? Being able to express things in the bedroom. Luckily, Lucien is totally willing to let her try that out on him.

#elucien #elucien fanfic #elucienweek2024 #elucien crossword

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luminousbeings-crudematter · 11 months

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Contract Renegotiation (an Alford Plea outtake)

PAIRING: Chef! Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

A/N: please please please go read all the lovely entries for the 141 challenge by the person who carries this fandom on her back: @glitterypirateduck || I first started to interact with duck because of Alford Plea, and I miss these two fools, so here we are || MDNI

Prompts used: “All you gotta do is ask” “Do everything I say” “Look at me” “I'll take good care of you”

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Epilogue

***

He’s insufferable.

He’s the love of your life, absolutely and unconditionally, and you share the kind of love poets dream of. You’re a woman well-loved because of him, his brand of affection fierce and all-encompassing. You have no doubt that you’ll build a life with him, have his little babies, own a pet or two, all of it.

And yet, somehow, he is the most insufferable man you’ve had the displeasure of being around.

The argument you have at work that morning ruins the whole of your shift, and you're left stressed and fuming and ready to throttle your boss.

When you offer to close down the kitchen that evening, it’s with a spirit of spite that only working for Simon could have awoken within you. You’re in the middle of mopping the floor when you hear his footsteps and you pointedly ignore them until you can see him in the periphery of your vision. Like an actual goddamned vision, he leans against the wall, still in his chef whites (with sleeves sluttily folded up to his forearms now that service is over, like he knows you like) and completely silent.

The most aggravating man in the world and you still want to jump his bones when he looks at you like that.

“Can I help you, Chef?”

Simon sighs and just continues to stare at you expectedly with a look of mild disappointment. “Love, you—”

“Ah’m gonna head off—oh!” It’s Soap. Of course, it’s Soap. Who else but Johnny would save your life in this godforsaken kitchen that was run by the actual devil. “Uh…so ah’ll be seein’ ya, bonnie.” The words are directed at you, clearly, but his eyes keep ping-ponging between you, gripping the mop like it was a lifeline and Simon, whose eyes had not strayed from you. Soap turns on his heel before you recover.

“Wait! Will you drive me home?” you ask Soap, while narrowing your eyes at Simon. “My usual ride’s…unavailable tonight.” You finally look at Soap with pleading eyes as you twist the knife. “Please, Johnny.”

“Erm…I—I don’t know, bonnie. You, uh,” he hesitates and his eyes quickly flick to Simon before they come back to yours. “You’re a good friend and ah’love you. But he pays m’wages. And the two of ye’re screwin’ so—”

“That’ll do,” Simon interrupts. “See you tomorrow, Johnny.”

“Yes, Chef,” Soap says, and then laughs when you flip him the bird. And then Soap’s gone. And you’re left with the bane of your existence.

“I’ll walk home,” you assert.

“Fine.”

“Fine,” you mimic and then follow it up with a bastard under your breath.

“Crazy bitch,” he says, and you have to roll your eyes at him when he gets visibly frustrated that you don’t react to his words. “You don’t really have to walk home. Take the car.”

“I am not getting in a car with you, Simon, go get fucked.”

“Fuckin—fine! You take the car. I’ll walk.”

“What? No! It’s your car.”

“It’s our flat. We can talk—”

“I don’t want to talk to you right now!” Your words are met by silence and when you glance up at him, he has the audacity to appear shocked.

“Okay…Okay. Will you let me take you home? And we’ll talk about it there, I swear, love. Just let me take my girl home, okay?”

You let him take you home.

***

You’re crying before he even properly pulls out of the restaurant’s car park. At the sound of your sniffles he winces, and puts a warm hand on your thigh, but says nothing else. You hold his hand in a death-grip the whole way home, and he lets you.

When you finally get home, he leads you up to your flat, fingers intertwined with yours, and you go willingly, still sniffling. You don’t know how or why your emotions have gotten the better of you, you don’t even think this is to do with your fight with Simon, but your eyes continue to stream. He kicks the door shut behind you and pulls you close, and for some reason, that really pushes you off the edge. All the stress of the past few days finds a release in the only safe place it can, manifested as dark, wet splotches on Simon’s jumper.

He lets you cry it out, holds you, murmurs to you in soothing tones—this infuriating, terrible, beautiful man does everything for you. You think about how much has changed, how much he’s changed since that night at the bar when you fell into bed with your boss, and it makes you cry harder.

When you finally run out of tears, he brings you some water and when you’re more settled, ready to talk to him, he does the complete opposite of what you expect—he drags you to your bedroom.

“Know we need to talk,” he murmurs, both hands on your shoulders and eyes intense. “But I want t’make you feel good first, alright? Will you let me do that, pet?’

Your eyes widen when you realise what he means.

“Yes,” you finally whisper.

“I’ll take good care of you, love. Now strip.” With those words, he takes a step back from you.

You do as he says, taking off layer by layer of your clothing. When you’re done, he stands in front of you with a small smile. “Beautiful,” he whispers. “Such a gorgeous girl. And all mine, yeah?”

“Mhm,” you agree.

“Say it.”

“I’m all yours, Simon.”

“Good girl,” he praises, and you feel your breath stutter in your chest. “Such a good girl for me tonight, love. Do everythin’ I say and I’ll make you feel good, alright love?”

But he doesn’t wait for you to respond, before he’s unbuttoning his jeans and pulling his cock out. He gives it a couple of dirty jerks before you’re sinking to your knees for him. You put one hand on his thigh and your other reaches for him, finding him hard and leaking for you.

When you put your mouth on him, your own groan of relief is louder than his.

It’s not new for the two of you—this song and dance. Sex was what first connected the two of you, and every single time after, and after all this time it still feels like a revelation. Sex with Simon has you both opening up to each other in a way you can’t otherwise, and you’ve never once denied yourself that connection.

And when you get too in your head, the connection that sex brings guides you both back to where you belong. You need his stability, his strength to pull you out of it, and he’s never ever let you down.

“Look at me, pet,” he murmurs, and when you open your eyes and look up at him, his eyes are soft, melted, worried. His hands come to gently cradle your face and move your hair out of the way and it floors you, the way he takes care of you.

He only lets you have him in your mouth for a few minutes though, before he’s tugging you up, already kissing you deeply, already getting you to melt into him.

For the rest of the evening, you only answer him in yes.

Yes Simon, that feels so good.

Yes, please, make me come.

Yes, I want you to come inside me.

Yes, yes yes.

You don’t think you’ve ever been so agreeable with the man.

***

When you both drift back down to the Earth in the moments after, he runs his hand down your bare arm and you turn to him with a smile, but end up bumping your head with his.

“Ow,” you mutter in protest, but he leans forward and kisses the offending part of your skull anyway. When he lingers, you use the opportunity to cuddle up into him, pushing your face into the crook of his neck and breathing deeply. “I love you.”

“Me too,” he whispers back. “Your mind and your body and your tits, definitely your tits, that ass, and fuck, I love your tight little—”

“Alright, I get it, you love my body!” you say, laughing, trying to push away from him, but he doesn’t allow it.

“And your heart. Your talent. The ideas you come up with, y’er insane drive to see them through. How you stand up for yourself, and for others. How fuckin’ talented you are.”

“You already said that,” you whisper, your eyes clenched shut from embarrassment.

But Simon seems to want to persist, and he leans back a bit. He caresses the side of your face gently, and it makes you open your eyes to see warm eyes, the colour of melted caramel looking at you with so much love. “‘Ts true. You are talented. I wouldn’t have hired you if you weren’t.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“What do you think I’m trying to say?”

“Oh my god, Simon, seriously!”

“I noticed that you doubt yourself more. You look to me for approval more, defer to me more…you didn’t used to. Not before, well, this.”

“Oh.”

“Wanna talk about it?” he says, voice muffled because his lips press against your cheek over and over and make you giggle.

“Yeah—I. Yeah. Sorry I freaked out earlier. And you were right to go off at me today, I messed up and I shouldn’t have—”

“Hush about that, sweet girl. Talk to me.”

You take a deep breath and exhale slowly, trying to calm your racing heart. This is your safe space, you remind yourself. All your secrets, all your insecurities, everything that makes you you is safe with him. Both in his mind and in his heart, always. That’s what you’d agreed to be for each other.

You reach up to fiddle with the ring you wear on a chain around your neck, instead of on your left hand, where it belongs.

“I’ve been..worried about my career. Sleeping with the boss was one thing, but now—”

“Now yer more.”

“Now I’m your wife. And if people find out…I guess. I guess, I’ve just been worried that it looks a certain kind of way. You’ve given me pretty much free reign in your kitchen, and if people find out it’s because we went from strangers to married in 6 months, it’s going to be horrible for my career.”

“God, love. You give a shit what they think?”

“I mean…yeah. I could pretend that I don’t, but I still have to work with them everyday. I don’t know, I just…yeah. Whatever. Yeah.”

“Eloquent,” he comments and shifts a little, so you lie on his chest now, and you can hear his heart. The soundtrack to your life together. “They can fight the wall if they question why you have the kitchen, love. You’re talented. Natural leader. Place is doing well under you. Besides, ‘ts still my kitchen. I’m still yer boss and you’re still only the sous,” he grins, and smacks your exposed ass. “If you want me to ride your ass ‘bout your shitty salads…all you gotta do is ask.”

“Am I overthinking this? Is anyone but me even wondering about this? Or am I just being—“

“Don’t say—”

“—OTT?”

Oh, now he’s riled up. He pinches the bridge of his nose and screws his eyes shut, tilting his head up to the ceiling. “You’re allowed to feel this way, pet. It’s not OTT. You’re just in a situation you haven’t been in before.”

You snort and it makes him glare down at you, knowing exactly what it is you’re going to say. “Yeah, never been married to my boss before.”

He flicks your nose and you giggle again. “So what would you like to do, Mrs Riley? You want to find a new employer…?”

Moment of truth. “Would you—would it make you sad if I said…maybe yes? And that maybe we would talk about this again?”

Simon Riley’s not a man who smiles a lot. Being with you may have made him soft and a fool in love, but every one of his shy, dimpled grins are so special, so unique, that you feel like you need to earn them. So when he graces you with one, you have to lean forward and kiss him. Again and again and again until you’re smiling against each other’s mouths too much, and your teeth clack together and his grip on your hips tightens.

“Would it make me sad to have my wife in a job that makes her happy?” He scoffs, but the effect is ruined by the smile he can’t seem to keep off of his face now that it’s here. “No, I don’t believe it would, pet. Although...you might have to work hard for a squeaky clean recommendation,” he add, wickedly.

You proceed to work hard, though not a thing you do to your husband that night is squeaky clean.

#141challenge #simon “ghost” riley #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost smut #simon riley fanfic #simon riley smut #cod mw2 #alford plea #lumi writes

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mx-misty-eyed · 4 months

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OK CLANCY THEORIES THAT I CAN SHARE NOW THAT THE ALBUM IS OUT

(I'm kinda going crazy here and possibly reading into things too much so idk also these are just my opinions and I'd love to hear other interpretations)

Clancy is using psychokinesis possibly too much and is becoming corrupted, I think he's turning into a bishop and is gonna fall victim to the cycle the attempt to reclaim red and to reclaim the power to fight against them might turn into him giving in. Like firstly "I'm testing the limits of what a mind can do" in routines like, nobody should be using this power their minds weren't made for it.

Then Vignette "not sure when it started, peelin' from his bones" then "hope it held together long enough for he to pitch the greener grasses" CLANCY STARTING TO BE CORRUPTED BY THE POWER BUT NOT NOTICING AND JUST HOPING TO STAY TOGETHER TO FIX THINGS FOR EVERYONE, also just "clinging to promises fighting off the vignette tunnels cave visions fade swallowed by the vignette" perhaps fighting off the corruption??? (also "no its not me its for a friend" Clancy perhaps becoming a bit selfish with his goal to take down the bishops and trying to lie to himself and say he's doing it for others???)

WE ALL SAW NAVIGATING (JOSH ISNT REAL WHAT THE FUCK I KNEW MY BLOOD WAS INVOLVED IN THE LORE) Anyway I don't even know what to say about the video I didn't even really watch it I was nodding off (fully awake rn) but THE SONG??? Just like basic stuff "pardon my delay I'm navigating my head disassociate" very just like, him fighting with the power and corruption and trying to figure things out, still trying to fight back against dema still. "How things change so rapidly I find my self-esteem, then turn so cold" STILL THE CORRUPTION

SNAP FUCKING BACK. THIS ENTIRE SONG AUGH gotta break it down a lot more than the others "got a bad feeling that i'm about to break been a good streak but the pressure's overweight" and also "got a bad feeling I'm gonna lose the lead" FUCKING CORRUPTION THE POWER AND PRESSURE IS GETTING TO HIM HES ABOUT TO SNAP "if I'm gonna snap necks then I gotta snap back" HE HAS TO FIGHT IT OFF AND COME BACK TO HIMSELF TO FIGHT DEMA (also "running from a thing that I kicked in '17" BLURRY?? that was the last blurry year before trench)

"blacklisted from forgiveness" and later "I have seemed to run out of excuses of why I am this way" could be him acknowledging what's happening to him and just accepting that. "its a backslide I commandeered a hot ride drove it til the engine died all of that progress lost today" FIRST OF ALL BACKSLIDE REF, SECONDLY HE IS DESCRIBING HDS AND HIS ESCAPE AND HE IS SAYING HES LOSING THE PROGRESS CUZ HE MARCHING BACK INTO DEMA!!?! "I've been praying for my elasticity to return to the way that it was" maybe Clancy saying that he wants to recover from psychokinesis the way he used to but he's not anymore

"I don't want anymore know me or not see me at my lowest you don't have to drop" if you've read this far then I think (?) that's self explanatory. "don't know how I feel man bout you sleepin so close to a weapon you conceal man" may either be about Clancy sleeping near antlers/just being too comfortable with them, or Clancy being the weapon himself. now for fuckin

paladin strait

"standing on the shore staring down a hurtling storm makin' it's way toward me" staring down his final(?) face down with dema. "here's my chance, time to take it can't be sure that I'll make it even though I'm past the point of no return i'm all in, I'm surrounded put my money where my mouth is" past the point of no return in two ways, hes going to fight them and there's no turning back now, and he's been corrupted and he's aware of that and that there's no changing it now he's just gotta complete his final goal AND THEN

"On the ground are banditos fighting while I find Nico even though I'm past the point of no return climb the top of the tower "show yourself," I yell louder" saying while I fight Nico even though I'm past the point of no return, to me, implies that he's fighting him even though he's been corrupted and may possibly be turning over to his side AND THEN THE WAY NICO GREETS HIM AT THE END "hello Clancy" IT WAS FAR TOO NICE AND FAMILIAR FOR SOMEONE HE HATES AND WANTS TO FIGHT, I THINK CLANCY TRIED TO FIGHT AGAINST THE BISHOPS WITH THEIR OWN POWERS WEARING HIS OWN RED HOOD BUT THE COLOR AND THE POWER TOOK OVER HIM AND HE IS BECOMING ONE OF THEM

#twenty one pilots #frankie #clancy #tyler joseph #josh dun #twenty one pilots theories

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sgrdoll · 2 years

Text

Bet on It

synopsis - aew star hook has a fascination with the pretty makeup artist backstage. his friend bets he can’t go an entire night without bothering her.

warnings - smut, fuckboy!hook, hook shamelessly yearning, ofc, sub!ofc, dom!hook, blowjob, face fucking

a/n - hi! i’m back again but with something a little different. i know this probably won’t be my most popular fic bc it’s such a niche fandom. however, i really like pro wrestling and i hope you all can enjoy this fic regardless of if you like it or not. love you guys!!!

masterlist

Tyler’s eyes narrowed when she walked across the room. The way she dressed made him want to throw his head back and groan.

He was leaned against the wall watching her do the makeup of some of the women that were going on tonight.

As far as he knew she was the head makeup artist for the company and did her job pretty damn good, always in a pair of heels with her hair perfectly done too.

The outfit she had on today was a little more revealing than what he was used to but he definitely didn’t mind. The baby pink skirt and matching top made her body look out of this fucking world.

Tyler had never needed to go to the makeup chair before so they had never officially crossed paths. However, he’s been watching her since the first time Cody brought his wrestling class to their first TV taping.

She’s always there, and she’s always working. Currently, she was talking to Britt while doing some crazy eyeshadow look on her that seemed impossibly difficult to him.

Ty could hear her giggle from where he was standing and he wanted nothing more than to go over there and drag her back to his private lockeroom and have his way with her.

“Again, man? You gotta leave her alone,” Dante Martin put a hand on his shoulder which Tyler immediately shrugged off.

He knew he was joking but it still hit a little too close to him. Tyler always wondered if she noticed him and the close eye he kept on her.

“Shut up. Don’t you have a top rope or something to jump off?” Tyler rolled his eyes.

“Why don’t you just go talk to her,” Dante ignored his previous comment.

“What would I even say? ‘Oh hey, I’ve been staring at you for the past year and I want to do you in my hotel room?’”

Dante laughed, “You don’t obsess over a girl for an entire year and only want to fuck her. We both know you actually like her.”

Ty had never had a serious relationship before and didn’t desire it. He was very focused on his career and didn’t have time for any distractions, even ones with impossibly long legs and high cheek bones.

“That’s exactly why I can’t talk to her. I’m way too busy. I don’t have time to treat her like she deserves,” he grumbled back in response.

His friend grinned, “How can you say shit like that and not see it?”

“See what, asshole,” he hissed back.

“That you’re not going to be able to just stop thinking about her.”

“I could totally stop thinking about her if I wanted to. She’s like, like a side hobby,” Tyler responded a bit flustered.

“A side hobby?” Dante was hysterically laughing at this point.

“If she’s such a side hobby, let’s make a bet,” Dante said to him.

“Oh yeah? What kind of bet?” Tyler was intrigued at this point. He was never one to turn down a challenge. He stopped leaning on the wall and stood up straight.

“If you can leave her alone for the rest of the show - that means no looking at her, no standing by the makeup chairs, and no scaring off the rookies who try and flirt with her - I’ll pay for you to finish the rest of your sleeve,” Dante said slyly.

Tyler’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, “Dude, my tattoo artist is charging me $2500 in cash for that.”

“I know. But I’m almost positive you won’t win,” he laughed.

“What happens if I lose?” Ty inquired.

“I get your private lockeroom for 5 more Dynamites,” Dante responded matter of factly.

“Bro, my dad rents that out for me.”

“Yeah and everyone fucking hates you for it,” Dante added.

“Call me daddy’s money all you want but I get to do my pre-match ritual in silence, without you assholes screaming in my ear.”

“And that’s what I want.”

“Fine. You have a deal,” Tyler stuck his hand out and Dante shook it.

“There’s no way you’re winning,” Dante cackled while walking away from him.

Tyler walked to catering and tried not to think about her there without him. It was stupid really. She had been working there longer than he had and he was scared for her well-being.

He sighed and stabbed the chicken on his plate with a fork. It was going to be a long ass night.

Dynamite had started a couple of hours later and he had a match tonight, but for some reason he couldn’t focus.

Well, not some reason. He knew the exact reason, and she was most likely sucking on hard candy and playing on her phone in the backstage area.

Tyler tried hard to shake it off, he really did. But he couldn’t jepordize his match for some stupid bet.

His phone dinged and it was a text message from Dante.

Are you cracking yet, lover boy?

Tyler wanted to hurl his phone at the wall. He felt like he was going absolutely insane. He wanted to slap himself for allowing his attraction to her for getting this far.

Ty hated to admit it to himself, but he did actually like her. He liked her much more than a one night stand or a casual hookup.

He had been going backing forth between the pros and cons of just going to find her when the Bucks walked into his dressing room.

Tyler immediately stood up from his seated position when they walked in. He pulled himself together so he could talk to his bosses.

He stuck his hand out to shake theirs, “What can I do for you guys?”

After they finished shaking hands with each other Matt started talking, “It’s about your match tonight. Tony made a last minute decision for you to go over.”

Tyler’s face was one of surprise, “Like, win the TNT title?”

“Yeah,” Matt brushed over this news, “Sorry it’s on such short notice, kid.”

“No, don’t sweat it. I’m psyched,” Tyler tried to keep his cool.

“We figured you would be. Go change the finish with Sammy and you’ll be set. We watched you guys practice this morning and the match you have planned should stay the same. The only change we want is for you to tap him out,” Nick instructed the young talent.

“Of course. Thank you so much. This means a lot to me,” Tyler was very grateful for this opportunity but also incredibly nervous.

The group exchanged pleasantries for a while longer until they left the room. Ty could feel his heart speeding up. There was no way he could go out to win a title feeling like this.

His palms were sweating and despite the news he had his focus was still somewhere else. He checked his watch to see he had an hour and thirty minutes until he was gonna go out.

Fuck the bet.

There was no way in hell Ty was going to fuck up the biggest match of his career over a bet.

He threw a hoodie and sweats over his gear and stepped out of dressing room, already feeling the clouds clear out of his head.

Ty booked it to the makeup chairs like he was being chased.

He stopped just a few steps behind where she was lounging.

She was perched on one of the chairs with her legs swinging. She was on her phone with a cherry red sucker in her mouth, just as he suspected.

She was a sight for sore eyes and he felt relief wash over him knowing she was perfectly fine.

“Hey,” he said suddenly making her look up from her phone. His voice was a surprise to his own ears. He had never spoken to her and now was probably not the best time to start.

She looked up at him from her chair and took the sucker out of her mouth, “Hey.”

The way she was smiling at his made his chest ache, “I was wondering if you could fix my hair before my match. I totally slept on it wrong.”

She looked skeptical. Tyler knew he sounded stupid. His hair was probably the easiest in the world to manage. All he did was run a brush through it and call it a day.

“Of course. Hook, right?” She called him by his in ring name.

He chuckled as he sat down in her chair, “Yeah, but you can call me Tyler.”

When her fingers began to comb through his hair he wanted to groan.

“I’m Ariane, but everyone around her calls me Ari.”

He finally knew her name and it fit her perfectly. He could feel all of his nerves slipping from his body as she touched him. It was like she had some sort of magnetic aura that dissipated all of his anxiety.

He stayed quiet as she moved his hair every which way. Her long pink acrylics were perfectly scratching his scalp. Ty fought the urge to shiver and lean into her touch.

“What gear are you wearing tonight?” Ari asked.

“I’ve got the orange on tonight.”

“You always wear those,” she teased, “What about the chain?”

He pulled his gold chain out of his hoodie and showed her. He was impressed she knew he always wore a chain to the ring. It made Ty smile that Ari watched him maybe as much as he watched her.

She moved from behind him to get a better look at the chain.

Ari leaned in and touched the chain around his neck. Her tan fingers brushed against the pulse point on his neck. He closed his eyes and took in a breath. Her long dark extensions created a curtain between them and the outside world. Tyler wanted to feel her hands on him forever.

Their eyes locked for a second and she smiled at him in a way that made him want to bend her over his lap and make her start fucking counting.

He tried not to lose control of the situation. It felt like she was holding him in the palm of her hand.

“This is really nice. It’s different than the ones you usually wear,” Ariane said finally and stepping away from him.

His mouth twitched into a small smile, “You pay a lot of attention to my chains?”

“You’re the only guy on the roster who doesn’t ask for my advice on gear. I like to see what you’re wearing.”

“Well, this one was my dad’s in the 90’s. He wore it when he proposed to my mom,” Ty couldn’t figure out why he was volunteering this information. He kept most of his personal life to himself but she made him spill his guts with only a few words.

“And you’re wearing it to win your first title,” she must’ve noticed the look he gave her, “You tend to hear a lot when you’re doing an entire roster’s makeup and hair.”

“The chain is a good luck charm. It made my mom say yes, maybe it’ll keep me from fucking up any spots,” he joked.

“I’ve never seen you mess up a spot before,” Ari rolled her eyes adorably.

Tyler really wanted to grab her and kiss her. Actually, he wanted to do more than that, he wanted to take her back to his dressing room and flip up that impossibly tiny skirt and fuck her. He had to get himself back under control.

He took a deep breath and stood up. He was standing almost chest to chest with her. Ty had a few inches on her, even with her heels. He looked down at her parted lips and smiled.

“Next time you have any advice on my gear, you can come find me in my dressing room,” his words dripped with sexual innuendo that made her noticeably flustered.

He walked away from the makeup area and to gorilla. Ty stripped down into his gear and waited for the women’s match to end.

He felt way more confident than he had in his lockeroom. Tyler was calm, satiated even. He talked to Ari for the first time ever and even flirted with her. He could comfortably take her off of his mind for now.

He was ready to go out there and have the best match of his life.

Even though he felt on top of the world, he still felt anxiety pooled in his belly. Any person in their right mind would.

This is going to be his first title run and he wants it to be amazing.

“Hey,” Sammy grabbed his shoulder, “The Bucks wanted me to come talk about the match with you.”

His calm attitude didn’t last long when he heard Sammy’s voice. Sammy Guevera was not an easy person to be around. Almost everyone on the roster hated him, besides his equally annoying wife, Tay.

“Yeah. All we have to do is keep the same combinations until the last three minutes. They want a submission victory so I was thinking you try for a frog splash and I catch you midair. I’ll give you a couple of suplexes and then put you in the redrum.”

“Whatever,” sammy rolled his eyes like the asshole he is, “I’m still pissed they sprung this on me last minute.”

“Maybe it’s because you called one of the most experienced veterans in the back a jobber,” Ty spit back at him.

Just because they had a match did not mean they had to like each other.

“Let’s just get this over with,” Sammy grumbled while walking away.

As the semi-main event ended with Britt holding her championship with a confident smirk on her face. He felt like his chest was on fire the closer it got to his match.

Tyler stood up and took a deep breath. He had seven minutes until his entire life would be changed.

He knew he had to go out first and stood at the curtain.

The match went off without a hitch. Tyler was surprised considering Sammy kept giving him stiff punches and slapping him in the face.

Ty kept it professional, though and managed to finish the match without actually beating the shit out of him.

He walked to the back with the TNT titled draped over his shoulder as the backstage personnel and Tony Khan gave him a standing ovation.

His dad was the first person to hug him and tell him how proud he was. Tyler fought tears when they embraced.

He thanked everyone profusely and spoke to Tony privately about how grateful he was.

Ty was in the middle of picking up his sweats and hoodie when Dante came into view. He mentally groaned, he was going to get so much shit from him.

Dante wrapped gave Tyler a hug and when he pulled away he smiled, “Couldn’t do it could ya, champ?”

“Fuck off,” Tyler groaned, “It was the only way that match wasn’t gonna be shit. It was impossible to focus with her on my mind.”

“You sound like a fucking love sick puppy,” Dante laughed at him.

“Yeah yeah. What are we doing to celebrate?” Ty smirked at his friend.

“I’ve got some of the boys together and we can go grab drinks downtown. This is my first time in Nashville so I think Bowens is picking.”

“Sounds great. Let me go take a quick shower,” he replied walking away.

“Enjoy that private shower while it lasts!” Dante called from behind him.

Tyler just flipped him off and kept walking to his dressing room. He really was dreading giving it away for five weeks.

Just before he made it to his lockeroom he saw Ari leaning against the wall next to the his dressing room door texting on her phone.

“Hey,” he smiled at her.

She looked up at him, “Hey, champ. That was a great match. Congratulations.”

Her smiled was so genuine and happy it made his heart flutter a little bit, “Thanks. Hey, some of the guys are going out to celebrate. Wanna come with?”

Tyler watched as her green eyes lit up at the prospect of going out with him.

“I’d love to, but before I think you told me I should come into your lockeroom when I had any thoughts about your gear,” she gave him a sultry look through her false eyelashes.

His mouth quirked into a smile, “Yeah, and what is it you wanna say about my gear, doll?”

“I think it would look much better off,” she had an innocent look in her eyes despite the words she was saying.

This turned him onto no end. He didn’t even bother to say anything else, he just opened the door and pulled her inside.

He quickly locked the door and pressed her against it. Their lips touched and it felt like his skin was buzzing against her own.

He kissed a trail down her neck. He sucked and nipped at the delicate skin until there was a distinct hickey.

“Such a fucking tease all the time, hm? All those tiny little outfits” He said against her neck.

Tyler could hear her shaky breathing and the occasional whimper.

He smiled against her skin and finally pulled away, “If you want to stop, just say so.”

With that he tugged her over to the couch and pulled her onto his lap.

Their mouths were on one another’s in an instant. Their lips moved in a feverish manner, as if they couldn’t get enough of each other.

Ari was the first to pull away, “Let me properly congratulate you on your win, champ.”

She slinked down to her knees in front of him and put her hands on his bare thighs.

Tyler’s hand ran through her hair and Ari spoke again, “It’s a wonder it’s taken you this long to say something.”

He looked down at her in confusion as she started to palm him through his shorts, “I’ve seen you stand at my makeup station for months and stare at my ass. That’s why I’m dressed like this tonight.”

She kissed his thigh and whispered, “Just for you.”

Tyler finally said something, “Dressing like a whore at work just to impress me? I’m honored, baby.”

Ari rested her head against his thigh and stared at his hard on still confined in his pants.

Ty wrapped a hand in her and forced her to sit up properly, “Are you gonna let the champ fuck your face doll?”

She nodded eagerly, “Please fuck my face Tyler.”

He didn’t have to hear anymore, he pulled his cock out, “Stick your tongue out.”

Ariane shivered at his dominant voice and did what she was told.

He used his hand that was wrapped in her hair to guide her down his cock. Ty slowly sunk his cock in her mouth and groaned out when she made it to the base.

She began gagging a little bit and he let her pull off, “You’re so big,” she whimpered.

Ty thought she looked so cute like this, almost frustrated she couldn’t take him all the way down her throat, “You’ll make it work, baby.”

She wrapped her lips around his tip and looked up at him to signal that she was ready for him to continue

He started bobbing her head up and down his cock. His groans made her even wetter than she was.

Ty kept cursing in his deep voice and watched as he fingers snaked in between her legs and underneath her skirt.

“Cant even handle sucking cock without something inside you? Fucking hell,” he chastised her while moving her head faster.

He threw his head back when she started swirling her tongue around his length.

“Fuck,” Ty said aloud, “I’m gonna cum down that pretty throat.”

She nodded her head around him to assure him it was okay. Somehow he forced her to choke his cock down even faster.

Ari sucked impossibly hard and his hips bucked up into her mouth right before he came. She felt his hot seed shoot down her throat in long spurts and whimpered around him.

When he was finished with her he took her off of him.

They both stopped for a moment, him breathless and her with spit around her mouth and tears in her eyes.

“Come here,” he said while putting his shorts back on properly.

Ari obediently sat in the couch next to him before he grabbed her waist and sat her on his lap.

His arms wrapped around her, “We don’t have to go out with them tonight. We can go back to my hotel room and talk or something. I don’t want you to think I wanted this as a one time thing.”

Her voice was hoarse when she first started talking, “Today is a big day for you. You deserve to go out and celebrate.”

“Did you drive here?” He asked, ignoring her last comment.

“No, I ubered, why?”

“I’ll drive you back to the hotel then. Or the bar, it whatever you want, baby,” he smiled at her warmly.

She whined, “I can’t let you not celebrate you’re first title win. I’ll come with you to the bar and we can talk about all of this later.”

Tyler kissed the crown of Ari’s, “You know this wasn’t a one time thing for me, right? I want to have something real for you.”

She lifted her gaze to his, “Then we’re on the same page.”