#a dart at a board. anyways .

[ministarfruit]

day 20: get you a girl that can do both ♡

(prompt list for femslashfeb)

[heyclickadee]

You know, if (when) Tech’s alive, if Tech did fake his death on purpose so he could go after Crosshair alone, and if it turns out that Hunter at least knows or suspects more than we do or Omega does, it would be slightly insane if it turned out that Tech had a plan for doing so in his back pocket before they even left for Eriadu and that he talked to Hunter about it between the, “He is still our brother, and we do not leave our own behind,” scene and the goodbye scene with Phee. What if Hunter and Echo having a talk we didn’t see, but which lead to Echo leaving to help his other brothers in the midseason, has a parallel in the finale?

Tech and Hunter could have talked about an alternative plan that involved Tech going off on his own. Not as a thing he was definitely going to do, but just as a thing he could if the mission on Eriadu went south, and it just so happened that things went south enough that he ended up going through with it in the worst (most traumatic for everyone else) way. What if that’s why’s looking down all through the sequences while they’re crossing over in the sky tram? Not to come up with a plan just in case he falls, but because he went over the layout of the landscape around Tarkin’s castle before they got there, he’s already got a plan, and he’s anticipating having to see it through. Maybe Hunter paired Tech with himself during the early part of the mission in order to give Tech a cover story, just in case Tech decides to go through with it early on. Maybe it was something they discussed, but Tech wasn’t planning on going through with it at all, until the v-wings and the situation with the sky tram forced his hand.

Edit: Okay, no, but IF Tech already had a plan to not come back with the others and/or fake his death, and if it was in his back pocket the whole time, and if it was something he discussed with Hunter, what if that’s part of why he was so cagey with Phee in that last scene? I do think most of it was just that Tech doesn’t handle goodbyes well and that there’s a lot going on in his head, since the mission they’re going on is going to be pretty dangerous, but that could have added some extra nerves.

[bubmyg]

anyway i reiterate the cheesy as fuck sentiment abt having grown up with jeongguk like once a month but hearing him describe how his growth has been a process and he has so many factors to account for in whatever that shift may be just made me sit and reminisce a little like i too cant pinpoint a particular moment as a fan and at the same time, the shy youngest who barely spoke in interviews that i felt instantly adoring to doesn’t feel disconnected or surprising from the soft spoken but quietly confident man i continue to adore today. like there wasn’t some drastic image shift. jeongguk has just been jeongguk, at least as long as ive known him, and i think that’s what makes him so easy to love and root for. i’ve never doubted his sincerity and i think that’s one of his strongest traits as a vocalist: he’s believable and he’s genuine and he’s so passionate abt the art of performing and improving. he so ardently is my forever singer and i continuously feel quite inspired by his growth that has never quite come without an equal, if not greater, amount of suffocating love and tenderness. i greatly appreciate that i have been able to “grow up” loving jeongguk

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

These are the BSD ocs I drew a while back in these posts here, here, and here. I'm finally going to introduce them - they are both named for famous haiku poets (two of the 4 Ts!).

Takajo Mitsuhashi

Ability: Fern Hell/Shida Jigoku - A passive ability with an active component. Passively, she has a connection to what may or may not be a kind of life force - she can sense the presence of every individual, making her near impossible to sneak up on. Throttling the connection between person and life force either denotes a strange effect on their ability, or can shut down their life functions and kill them.

Age: 17

Birth Date: January 24th

Height: 162 cm

Weight: 116 lb

Blood Type: AB

Likes: Abstract art, meditation, cicadas

Dislikes: Restrictions, too much noise

Additional notes: Unused to feeling strong emotions, but is far from expressionless in intonation - she tends to be polite yet laid back and mildly cocky, especially when poking holes at authority/She was formerly an assassin/She also has the capacity to barely feel any pain and keep moving, even from deep injuries. This is not an ability. It's implied she trained to be able to do this./Becomes fascinated by Yosano and regularly observes her and her choices/Cannot understand why Takako doesn't think she's cool and then feels frustrated that this upsets her.

Takako Hashimoto

Ability: The Red Thread/Beniito - Allows the creation of a thin red thread, which, when connected with an object or person, acts as a rope to allow her to pull objects closer or drag them. Connections to people sometimes involve her gaining flashes of their emotional state and core desires.

Age: 16

Birth Date: January 15th

Height: 166 cm

Weight: 130 lb

Blood Type: B

Likes: Snow, yubari melon, dancing

Dislikes: Loneliness, feeling left behind

Additional notes: Born to comfortable wealth but has since given that up for unknown reasons/Sociable and empathetic but rarely talks about herself/Has an unfortunate tendency to throw herself into danger without thinking it through, much to Takajo's frustration/Tends to fangirl over people she thinks are cool, like Agent Hisajo/Thinks Takajo is one of the coolest people she's met but pretends she doesn't think so out of embarrassment of admitting that. This leads to childish spats.

They are part of a story involving Takajo attempting to find a powerful ability user-made artifact. Takako is the only one who can locate it, and therefore, they strike a deal to work together. They conflict with an offshoot of the Special Division, which essentially blackmails the girls into helping them find it and store it securely - but both girls are in agreement that the artifact needs to be destroyed (the one thing they do reliably agree on).

Though at first they are only working together out of a shared goal, they eventually come to care about one another deeply.

...ok. Running off now byeee

[fangedtracks]

sorry i am having Real Emotions about this cm punk thing (and the sonny kiss thing) and also how AEW has been dog shit .

[gxmergurl]

Judge, Jury and Executioner

[A redraw from last year]

"Lucas was always diligent. Ever since I first got to know him. Driven by something bigger, something he truly believed in. His conviction. Seeing a job through to the end, even if it took years. If it took blood, sweat and tears to get there. It all doesn't matter. He's crazy in that way if you wanna call him that. He will do it even if it means pain and suffering. So now I worry... I worry about where this road of self imposed righteousness will take him. Or is it perhaps all an act to get where he wants to be the consequences be damned? Guess we'll have to wait and see where it takes him." - E. W.

[zeveth]

ok zev's canon timeline* and her past 7 lives / ~1600 years or so go a little like this:

circa 1375: (yes... the earth year of our lord) zeveth is already around 600 years old. she "snaps" (goes mad scientist and sabotages the dominion) for the first time and her line is officially terminated by the founders. she survives by virally hijacking another vorta clone line. she is allowed to continue but her memory is hard reset and she cannot recover it beyond this point (she does have other history though hehe).

~1375-1880: she builds a ruthless reputation and secures her position at the top of the vorta scientist caste order. she frequently works closely with the foundress and imagines she is considered a favorite. (maybe she's eventually betrayed by another vorta... kudos to whoever managed to do it, maybe it was hovouth) she spends almost all of her time finessing what will later become the white formula for jem'hadar, beginning with the hur'q.

~1880-2023: she "snaps" for the second time. her memory is again wiped but less harshly - it is possible for her to recover some of these memories (during her time on ds9). she is retained bc she has made herself essential to certain processes within the dominion.

~2023-2200: completely blind in this lifetime. kinda just minds her business. she accidentally blows herself up during an experiment. :')

~2200-2373: senses the impending downfall of the dominion and feels the alliance w the cardassians is a fatal mistake. she gets into a fight with damar when he and weyoun visit her lab one time and she provokes damar into accidentally killing her (she gets a good stab in first). in this lifetime, she could be considered 'defective' as she begins to question and defy certain orders, even from the founders -- though she only does so out of a sense of duty to the dominion especially toward the end of the war, and due to her intention to help save it. she is more serious in nature this lifetime, but as a side effect of her 'defectiveness' she also begins to explore a kind of relationship usually completely foreign to vorta. (humans like to call this 'she has a girlfrienddddd' named viwilath)

2373-2375: jem'hadar are rebelling. vorta are defecting. the founders are diseased. this time, instead of weyoun, zeveth takes the blame and her line is officially terminated. having had a sense of the increasing precariousness of her position (her responsibilities failing against the federation, the fact that she knows TOO MUCH and could be a liability, plus her 'defective' streak) prompts her to prepare a secret clone hidden away in a disused storage unit. she argues she can't help save the dominion if she is dead as a doorknob.

2375: the zeveth who ends up on ds9. she's probably only a few months to a year old at most, and shes adapting at an insane rate :') she is in fact not 'defective' by vorta standards, an aspect she does not realize but will later help her find ways to help other vorta live outside of the influence of the founders. technically she should have a long vorta tail and her teeth are (probably) not filed down.

[sixcostumerefs]

If nothing else, I admire the Tonys’ ability to consistently make the most bizarre-yet-predictable decisions year after year.

[nikkiissleepy]

also the return choices are interesting as always... wind traveler from 2019 july, cloud tea party, soft season and mark of youth from 2020 (march, may and december), and... passionate rhythm from 2021 august for some reason?

[29121996]

.

[kayayeteae]

Makes costumes constructed with, minimally, 150 dollars worth of material and countless hours of time: yeah, I should wear that costume again soon.

A somewhat ill-fitted 60 dollar top gun uniform I purchased off Amazon: if I don’t get my moneys worth outta this costume I will fuckin scream. I am wearing it tomorrow.

[roboromantic]

hmmmmm surely there's fics out there that explore the mechanics of how their particular version of a soulmate au works, but do I wanna spend umpty-million hours digging for them? not really

[celenawrites]

Why do I wanna write roommate Simon/Ghost??

Roommate Simon who's gone for months at time, but always brings you sweets and trinkets from wherever he's been stationed while he's deployed. He looks at little souvenirs or remembers the dishes he's tried and he takes a mental note to get you something similar before he boards the plane to go back.

Roommate Simon who barely keeps in touch but is worried sick about you. Did you eat? Are you sleeping okay? Does your car need fixing again? Are you safe? Are you still getting nightmares? God, he wishes he was there to hold you while he eases you back into sleeping again.

Roommate Simon who encourages you to text him anyway, despite being busy on the job and unable to text/call you back. But the moment he's on leave, he takes his sweet time scrolling down his phone. You tell him about your day, you text him about your hardass professor, send him videos of you being horrendous at darts at the bar you and him usually go to whenever he's back from duty, show him pictures of all the cute puppies and kittens you find while you're out on a walk and beg him if he'd be amenable to getting a furry friend for the both of you. (Truth be told, if it's you who's asking, he'd pretty much lay down the entire world at your feet.)

Roommate Simon who comes back home to the smell of good food being cooked and you running up to him but stopping short a few feet away from him - hesitant to touch him, only for him to engulf you in a bone-crushing hug as he breathes you in. You smell safe. You smell clean.

You smell like home. Maybe you are his home.

He doesn't have a penchant for physical touch - recoils from anything that intimate faster than the guns he uses on the battlefield, but god forbid, he deprives himself from holding you. For this instant, when you're alive and safe (and still so lovely), and you breathe enough life in him for him to feel like Simon again and not just Ghost, he'd like to hold you in his arms for now.

[wonderlandwalker]

Cherished Moments | Finnick Odair x Reader

THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox

Summary: Finnick is trying to get you to relax and, well, it works maybe a bit too much.

Content Warnings/Tags: Mostly fluff, small injury, lovesick Finnick, grumpy!reader x sunshine!Finnick, insinuations of violence, no use of y/n

Word Count: 1.2k

Requested by Anon: I love your writing!!! What do you think a grumpy reader × sunshine finnick would be like? Love the back cat gf golden retriever bf trope haha and I feel like finnick would be obsessed with someone who was mean to everyone BUT him! Feel free to ignore if you don't feel inspired, I'll read everything you write anyway!!

A/N: Can someone pls let me know if they actually manage to find the request after I've posted them I have no clue if these are getting through. Ngl this one was a struggle for me but once I found the right idea it came pouring out. Do they even have darts in the Hunger Games universe? Well, they do now. Keep sending me requests I genuinely love doing them!!

“Come on, I know you can do it! I’ve seen you throw knives, this is pretty much the same thing, only smaller.” Finnick was trying to encourage you, but you weren’t easy to win over. 

“I’m telling you, I can’t. This is just different. The darts are so much smaller and lighter, it throws me off balance.” You were at a party in District 13, well, calling it a party would be generous. 

“Just try. I’ll help you come on. I promise it’ll be fun.” He couldn't hide his smile at your antics, but he also knew if anyone was able to convince you, it was him.

“Fine, but if something goes wrong it's on you.” You looked him in the eyes, and could see a spark of light inside them, and you wouldn't admit it, not with all the other people in the room, but it warmed your heart a little.

“It’ll be fine, what’s the worst that could happen” He asked you, and you almost scoffed at the question.

“I could hit someone, and then everyone will hate me even more than they already do”

“They don't hate you, they just don't know you the way I do.” Whenever someone would ask him what he saw in you, he would always be dumbfounded. Sure, you had a hard exterior, but when someone has gone through as much in their life as you did, were you really to blame? No, he didn't understand the question, because, to him, you were perfect. Whether you were sulking at breakfast for having to leave the bed or smiling at him because they were serving your favourite dish for dinner, he would take anything you gave him. 

“Are you telling me that you, the victor of the 70th Hunger Games, are afraid of hurting someone with a tiny dart?” He was challenging you, and it was working.

“I'm not afraid, I just don't want anything to go wrong.” The way your voice softened around him made his heart beat faster for you and sometimes, he swore you knew and were doing it on purpose.

“You won’t, just throw it straight into the board.”

Finnick is standing behind you, grinning like he’s just won some sort of lottery while he guides your arm up for you, you can feel his breath on your neck before he whispers “Come on love, do it for me.” You’ve never been able to deny him, to your own annoyance at times, so you do as he says.

The dart flies through the air, and it doesn't hit the board, but it comes relatively close. So you throw a second dart and it hits the board, but you don’t manage to score any points just yet. As you throw another one, it manages to hit the board, but only for a little while before it falls to the floor. You throw your hands up in defeat before saying “See, told you I couldn't do it.” But Finnick hasn't given up, in you, he would never give up.

“That’s nonsense, you just have to try again, be patient.” He walks over to collect your darts and hands them back to you. He steps behind you again, guiding you into the right position before speaking.

“Just close your eyes, imagine you’re throwing them at Snow.” It makes you laugh and he can feel your muscles relax. He would always feel so proud of himself when he made you laugh, he didn't mind that you don't do it often, it would only feel like so much more of an achievement.

You do as he says, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath right before you throw the dart, hitting it right in the bullseye. You throw another, hitting the bullseye again. But you miss the board with the next one when Finnick leaves a small kiss on your shoulder, and your breath hitches. You can feel his body moving from behind you, and focus to throw another dart. It’s only when you hear an exclamation of pain coming from right in front of you that you snap open your eyes, you would recognize it anywhere. In front of you was Finnick, standing right next to the board with one of his hands clutched in the other, and when you take a closer look, you can see the dart that is stuck in the back of Finnick's hand.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry are you okay.” He would never tell you this, but he doesn't even mind that it happened, seeing you being sweet on him so openly, it makes him forget anything even happened in the first place.

“I'm fine sweetheart.” there is a strain in his voice, and he knows you can hear it too from the way your brows furrow in regret. You knew he wasn't trying to be tough for you, no, you had moved past that years ago. he was trying to not make you worry, it was something he would always do no matter how much pain he was in. But you were worried, because in contrast to all those other times, this time it was your fault that he was hurt. It never phased you much when someone would get shot, it never phased you much as you heard the canons each night in the arena signalling another death, not in the way it phased other people, but this, this broke you.

“Finnick you are not fine, there is a fucking dart inside your hand and it's my fault.”

“Well, most people don’t throw a fourth dart sweetheart." He says, and he chuckles a little, but you don't hear it in your state of worry.

“I am so sorry I-” You were choking up over your guilt, and while he loved getting to see your raw emotions, this one he didn't enjoy.

“Hey, no, I'm sorry too, don't get yourself worked up over this. It's just a dart, I will be fine. Why don’t you go get me a first aid kit?” He really was fine, and he could have gotten it himself, but he knew how much you would get in your own head when you didn't have anything to do in these kinds of situations. 

Once you come back and help patch him up, he looks up at you and you catch his gaze. A smile crosses his face in a way he knows his cheeks are going to hurt.

“Why are you smiling” you ask, confused at his glee in a situation like this.

“Because I know you care about me. You don’t always show it, and you don’t have to, because moments like these I’ll cherish forever.” His eyes are sparkling as he looks into yours, he swears he could just stand here and look at you for the rest of his life. 

“Oh, would you shut up already” you tell him while swatting his hand away from your face and rolling your eyes.

“You can’t tell me to shut up, you threw a dart into my hand.” He’s still grinning like an idiot, and it's infecting you. One of the corners of your mouth lifts up, and it's subtle, but he catches it, how could he not with how intently he is watching you. You’re back to your old dynamic, but he loves it just as much.

[natalievoncatte]

Lena could feel the weight in her hand. A little extra swing in her fist as she walked, sending a jolt up her arm as she jogged up the steps to Kara’s apartment. She’d decided to walk today, to clear her head a little as she went to see her best friend. She had a lot on her mind lately- usual Luthor stuff like defusing random death traps that Lex left behind, fending off attempts to dethrone her as CEO and challenge her status as he brother’s heir, and cures for intractable diseases and solutions for the energy crisis and thorny ethical issues around the advance project department’s latest AI experiments… and Kara.

Kara was on her mind. She had a way of sneaking into Lena’s mind at the most inopportune moments, like a board meeting, or a symposium, or her TED talk. It was really a TEDx talk; the organization wasn’t *quite* ready to invite Lena to the real deal, no matter how many photo ops she did with Supergirl or cancer research facilities she paid for. That didn’t stop Kara from following her around saying “thanks for listening to my Ted talk” for three weeks after the fact.

She had been thinking about Kara so much that it had finally been noticed. Sam flew in from Metropolis earlier that week for a catch up lunch, and as usual, after business was handled they shared a bottle of wine and things grew informal.

“Lena,” Sam said. “I’ve been talking for five minutes and you’ve been holding that glass of rosé and staring at it for the entire time. What’s going on?”

Lena almost dropped the glass when she heard her name. “Oh, right. Yes. Wine.”

She took a sip, hoping Sam would drop her question, but she persisted.

“I know that look. You were miles away. What is it? Did the cure for cancer pop into your head?”

“No,” Lena said. “It’s nothing, I was just lost in thought.”

“Mmm,” said Sam. “I’m sure.”

“What?”

Sam smiled enigmatically and finished her wine. “I’d better get going. I’m taking a red eye back to Metropolis.”

“Sam, you’re flying on a Lexcorp charter. It doesn’t work that way.”

Sam snorted and left Lena sitting there, wondering what that was about. Of course she’d been daydreaming about Kara, about her hands specifically- she’d nodded off last weekend and woke to see Kara at her ease, brow furrowed and hands moving wildly as she painted something. Lena had remained still and watched, fascinated by Kara’s hands, the skill and dexterity she showed.

It was that day that Kara had passed her the key she now carried in her hand. A key to Kara’s apartment. Unfettered access. Lena didn’t have to knock (she would anyway) and could stop by when Kara wasn’t even there. She hadn’t said anything but she’d been holding back tears the entire ride home; Lena had no problems with *access*, but trust was another matter. That was what the key was. It was a talisman of trust, Kara’s confidence in her given form.

Lena did knock before she turned the key and swung the door open. She was expected, but part of her worried that Kara wouldn’t be alone. It seemed odd to Lena that Kara hadn’t started dating again- her best friend had taken the whole Mon-El thing very poorly, and it was bizarre to begin with, so Lena understood why she’d stay single for a while, but it had been years.

Years of kindling a soft, secret hope, a desire so fragile and so brittle that Lena rarely dared think of it, afraid that the tiniest brush of longing would crumble it and with it break something inside her permanently.

The apartment smelled like cookies. Burnt cookies. Kara was in the kitchen, brow furrowed, bent in concentration over a cookbook, eyes darting to a mixing bowl. Foul smelling attempted cookies practically filled the garbage can.

“Hey,” Kara said, cheerfully. She gave Lena a soft, gentle smile that seemed only for her, and brushed a loose gold curl from her eyes. “You’re early.”

“I wanted more Kara time,” said Lena. “I was hoping to get a few minutes alone with you before the few shows up. Just us.”

Kara looked at her curiously, then turned to her project.

“I can’t get this right. I cream the sugar like it says, but they keep coming out wrong.”

Lena moved closer, stopping her hand from seeking the small of Kara’s back. When she saw the carton of cream on the counter, she busted out laughing so hard she snorted.

“What?” said Kara.

“Darling, you don’t put actual cream in it. Here, let me help you.”

For the next half hour, Lena and Kara made cookie dough, laboriously, by hand. Every step brought them closer together, literally. By the time they were scooping out evenly sized blobs of it together, they were hip to hip, both floured and sugared, hands greasy with butter.

“I’ll pop them in the oven,” said Kara. “You go clean up and relax.”

“Alright,” Lena said.

She ended up on the couch. Game night would begin hours later, and Lena turned on a nature documentary. (She had her own distinct username on Kara’s Netflix.)

Lena must have dozed off, because the alarm on the oven, along with a warm, pleasant, homey smell, woke her up. She padded on her stocking feet into the kitchen to see how the cookies came out.

Kara had already taken them out and was holding the tray, hot from the oven. Something was off. It nagged at Lena’s mind.

Then it hit her. Kara seemed to realize at the same time.

She wasn’t wearing oven mitts. No heating pad. Not even a dish towel. Kara was holding the hot tray, fresh from the oven, in her bare hands.

Lena yelped. “Kara! You’ll burn yourself!”

Kara started to move. A cry rose on her lips, then died. She stared at Lena with such softness, her eyes full of hesitation, but more than that, a kind of longing that echoed Lena’s own soul.

“I’m tired of lying to you,” Kara said, still holding the tray. “It doesn’t hurt. I can barely feel it.”

They stood for a frozen moment that lasted an eternity, the truth just on the wrong side of revealing itself. Lena already knew, but she didn’t want to acknowledge it. Say it.

“You’re Supergirl,” Lena whispered, soft and breathy.

Kara nodded, starting to choke up. She put the tray down almost violently and stepped back.

“I’ll understand if you need time, if you’re angry, if you don’t want to continue our friendship-“

She didn’t finish her ramble. Lena crossed the space between them in three quick steps, firmly took Kara’s face between her palms, and kissed her.

Pure terror gripped her. What if she was wrong? What if this was a mistake? Why wasn’t Kara moving, responding, reacting?

That question responded when hands that could crush diamonds moved her her body with surpassing tenderness, turning the awkward kiss into something more, Kara guiding Lena as their bodies molded together and Kara kissed her back with hopeful desperation, drawing it out as if she was afraid to let it end for fear it might never be repeated.

It was, intimately and immediately. Lena was shocked but pleased when Kara let Lena push her back against the counter, bending her back lightly, almost climbing her. Kara almost shocked Lena when her hand slid up her side and found her breast even as Lena grabbed a double handful of steely buns and squeezed.

Then someone coughed and they jerked apart.

Alex stood by the door, arms folded.

“I’m going to go ahead and text the others so they know game night is cancelled,” she said, smirking. “Next time, hang a sock on the doorknob or something.”

“This is my house,” said Kara.

Alex rolled her eyes. “I’m leaving now.”

As the door slammed shut, and Alex could plainly be heard blurting, “Jesus Christ,” Lena turned back to Kara.

“Should we talk?” she said, her voice small. “What is this? What are we doing?”

Kara swallowed, hard. “What do you want it to be, Lena?”

Lena couldn’t answer. She just stared.

“I know what I want it to be,” said Kara. “I want us to be an us. I’m so tired of wanting you so bad it hurts, but being scared to touch you a certain way or look too long or too openly or be afraid I’ll say the wrong thing. I’m tired of hiding so much from you.”

Lena licked her lips.

“The truth is, I’ve wanted you for years.”

Kara’s gorgeous eyes lit up with unbridled delight, and with shocking quickness, Kara had Lena in a bridal carry. Lena instinctively curled up in her arms, practically wrapping herself around Kara’s body.

“What do you want to do now?” said Kara. “I don’t know how to do this part, Lena.”

Lena smiled. “I think what you do now is carry me back in the bedroom and cream your sugar.”

“You want to make more cookies? Why… oh.”

“Oh indeed,” said Lena.

Lena didn’t make a habit of it, but this one time, she let Kara talk her into cookies for breakfast.

[tomblythismyhusband]

bodyguard [billy the kid x fem!reader]

[summary]: billy the kid x fem!reader |anon request|Your father hired a bodyguard for you due to the increasing danger out west. You weren’t too fond of the idea but little did you know you’d be so drawn to your bodyguard…

[warnings]: 18+, MDNI, language, pnv, gagging kinda?, tension, keeping quiet

[wc]: 4.1k

[note]: thank you for requesting anon!!! this took me so long to finish for what reason???? idk.

You didn’t understand why your father wanted to hire a bodyguard for you, you thought you were fine on your own. Or at least that’s the lie you constantly told yourself.

Your father was John Tunstall, a wealthy rancher and merchant so he was a target for most outlaws. No one could ignore that the times were changing. Outlaws and bad men were more prominent in the West than ever before. Just last week you had overheard the news that a young girl had been kidnapped. The thought sent a shiver down your spine, picturing the tear splotched face of a young girl begging to be freed.

Deep down you understood why your father was so persistent with the whole body guard thing. You were his only daughter so the abundance of his protectiveness was fair.

“Y/N!”

You heard your father yell your name from downstairs. He probably had breakfast ready. You sat up from the bed you’d been so comfortably pondering in, fluffing the pillows before striding out of the bedroom. You were still in your night slip, you felt too groggy with morning tiredness to change. Coming down in your night clothes wasn’t out of the ordinary for breakfast anyways. Who were you trying to impress?

The sound of your fathers voice could be heard talking in the kitchen and you made your way towards it, but then you froze. Unexpectedly you heard another voice in reply. Your chest seized and you pressed yourself up against the wall next to the enterance of the kitchen.

It was another man’s voice, low, full of self assurance, smooth as whiskey. His voice washed over your senses, singing sweetly in your ears, making your heart thump a little faster. You didn’t know why the hell you were reacting like this but you did know that you’d probably need to change before meeting whoever this man was. Some might deem wearing just a nightdress was indecent.

You turned to leave quietly when your foot landed on a creaky floor board, which emitted a loud squeak that was painfully noticeable. You froze, foot still on the board as you listened intently to see if the man and your father had heard the noise.

“Y/N? Is that you?” Your fathers voice made you curse under your breath. Caught.

You moved shyly away from the wall and into the kitchen. Your father was standing, tall and stern, but something else caught your attention. Your eyes landed on the gorgeous man who sat at your breakfast table, leaning back lazily in his chair, hat set in front of him. His voice definitely matched his appearance. You only looked at him for a moment, eyes darting away as quickly as they met him. You knew staring was rude anyways.

“Hello father.” You said sweetly, moving over to him to plant a kiss on his cheek. You met his eyes and widened your own, almost like you were signaling to him that you wanted answers for why this mystery man was in your home at seven in the morning.

Your father cleared his throat, motioning an open palm towards the man who still sat at the table. “Y/N, I want you to meet Billy.”

Billy extended a hand out as he still lounged on a wooden kitchen chair. You moved a bit closer to reach his hand, shaking it gently.

“Pleasure to meet you sir. I apologize, I’m a bit underdressed.” You said shyly, looking into his eyes. You were amazed at how blue they were.

Billy’s lips quirked into a lopsided smile. “No worries ma’am.” His hand slid out of yours, the roughness of his hands leaving an empty feeling in their wake. His hand had felt so comfortable in yours. So warm, so inviting. You felt colder now, with your hands clasped in front of your torso.

“Your Pa here, Tunstall, has offered me the position to protect ya.” Billy said, sitting up straighter now. Your eyes widened and you turned to look at your father.

“Pa- What? I thought-“ Your father closed his eyes for a brief moment and waved a hand dismissively.

“We’ve talked about this Y/N. I wasn’t changing my mind.”

You opened your mouth to protest but knowing Billy’s eyes were on you, you decided to not fight it. Not now at least. Instead you nodded, mouth pulled into a frown.

“You won’t even know he’s there. Now, there’s something else I have to discuss so sit.” Your father went on, giving Billy a warm smile.

You rolled your eyes in annoyance, causing Billy to let out a quiet chuckle at your attitude.

Tunstall pulled out a chair and sat down, placing clasped hands on the wooden table. You did the same, trying to ignore the way your night slip’s thin straps kept falling off your shoulders. You felt Billy’s eyes on you as you adjusted it, your fingers dragging up your bare shoulder.

“Now.” Your father started. “I called you down Y/n so we could go over the rules that will be set in place with this arrangement.”

Your curiosity piqued. “Rules?”

Your father nodded, looking over at Billy. Billy was looking back at him so you took this opportunity to really study him.

His curly brown hair was rumpled on his forehead, probably from the hat he had been wearing. Faint freckles dotted his face, and his lips… so pink, so soft looking. You noticed how his lashes brushed the planes of his cheeks when he blinked, how his brows furrowed when he was thinking. He was art. Art that was rare to find out here in the west. God how you just wanted to run your hands all over his…. You were then broken out of your trance when your father spoke again.

“I want to make one thing clear. You should be professional. I don’t want.. any complications.” Billy nodded, seemingly understanding what he meant but you sat there slightly puzzled.

“Pa- What do you mean “complications”?”

Tunstall shifted in his seat, now turning his gaze to you.

“I mean- no funny business.” His eyes went between Billy and I. “No touching, no romantic involvement, none of it.”

Billy nodded immediately. “Yes sir. You can trust me. Not a finger will be laid on your daughter.”

Tunstall smiled. “Good. If I hear about any shenanigans, no matter who starts it,” He looked at you briefly as if reminding you that you're being held accountable as well..

“There will be consequences.”

Billy started working a few days later. It was awkward at first. You didn’t know what to say, what to do. I mean- how does one get used to someone following them around whenever they go out?

Going to the market? Billy’s there. Going to the salon? Billy. Stroll? Billy. The saloon? You know damn well Billy was there.

Sooner or later you began to feel more comfortable. Billy was actually very nice for a gunslinging cowboy with the potential to kill.

Two weeks had passed now and you both were sitting out under a tree on the ranch. You wanted some sun, it was beautiful out. Your back pressed up against the rough trunk as you fiddled with a book in your hands, flipping through the pages trying to find where you had left off. Billy was next to you, a chasm of space between you two, but still there.

You became engulfed in your book, reading silently for a few minutes until you heard the faint sound of snoring. Your eyes flicked up to look at the source of the sound, Billy.

You smiled softly to yourself at the sight. He looked peaceful. His arms were being his head, his body relaxed. Taking your foot, you nudged his leg with your boot.

He immediately jolted awake, blue eyes springing open looking for a possible danger. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Some body guard you are.. I should tell my Pa you’ve been slackin’.”

Billy’s lips pulled into a smirk at your teasing.

“Come on.. you know I could protect you even in my sleep.” He chuckled.

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Right..”

Billy propped himself on his side and you did everything you could not to look at his strong shoulders.

“You don’t think I could huh?” He said, cocking his head slightly.

You shook your head, closing your book. “Nope. I think you’d sleep right through whatever danger.”

Billy raised an eyebrow, warmth swelled in your chest. You liked his cute little facial expressions, though you shouldn’t find them cute.

“I’m quick. Fast reflexes.”

You laughed. “Okay righ-“

Just then your book was snatched from your fingers, now in Billy’s as he looked at you with a mix of pride and amusement.

“Hey-!” You laughed, lunging forward to swipe at the book. At each attempted grab you made, Billy moved his arm at just the right moment.

“When are you going to start trying? Come on- get the book.” Billy taunted.

You giggled as you lunged forward again, except this time, you lost your balance and fell. Fell on top of him.

Your bodies were pressed up against each other. A warm blush flushed across your cheeks. Your arms were on either side of Billy’s head, chest heaving due to the effort of trying to get your book back. You could smell him now you were close. Hints of whiskey and smoke filled your nose.

Billy had froze, book still held up in mid air. His jaw clenched, eyes darkening at the sight of you over him like this.

You stumbled off of him and moved away, lowering yourself onto the grass.

“Sorry-“

Billy sat up, handing the book back to you. You took it back and noticed the rigidness of his motions. He looked pale, out of breath.

“You should go back inside.” He said finally. Your heart squeezed at the words. You didn’t want to. Though it was selfish, you wanted to spend more time with him.

“Billy what’s wrong?” You tried asking but he brushed you off, a faint blush spreading on his cheeks.

“Come on.. it’s getting close to supper anyways. Your father will be expecting you.” He murmured.

The tenseness in his voice was evident so you decided it probably wasn’t best to argue. Instead you stood up and brushed the grass of your dress, still shaken by how close you’d just been to him. Billy stayed seated.

“Aren’t you comin’?” You asked, looking down at him.

He shook his head, waving a hand. “I’ll be there later. I just want to sit for a bit.”

You took your bottom lip between your teeth and nodded, not saying another word before turning to walk off towards the ranch house.

You didn’t know what had shifted the mood. He was fine, until your body pressed up against his, faces close. You felt a bit guilty. Billy probably just took his job seriously.

You tried to shake the thoughts of him out of your head as you walked, but you swore that you could feel his eyes boring holes into your back as you walked. Full of desire. Hunger.

A few days passed since that moment. The tension was undeniable. Your heart pounded each time he spoke to you. You just couldn't help the feeling. It was automatic.

The biggest problem is that you knew the rules. You knew what your father expected. The scary part was that you were starting to not care. Billy was so tempting. He was dangling in front of you but just out of your grasp. You knew it was supposed to be that way, but the way Billy’s eyes traveled down your body made you think differently.

One night, you’d gotten up for a drink of water. You’d stumbled around the kitchen in the dark, knocking something over in the process. It was quiet enough for your father to not hear but not for Billy who lived on the bottom story of the ranch house.

Billy was right. He was quick. You didn’t even know he was there until you felt his hands grasp your waist from behind, steadying you in the dark. You’d felt his warm breath feather over your neck as he stood behind you.

“You should really use a light when you're down here.” He had whispered in your ear. His breath caressed the side of your face causing you to shutter.

His hands on you had felt so right. Wrong according to your father, but he didn’t have to know.

That night was one of the many moments that kept you up. You wondered if Billy laid in bed and thought of the same things too. If he secretly wanted the same things. Everyday it was getting harder to not make a fool of yourself in front of him.

Your eyes always searched for his now, holding his gaze until either one of you gave up, or if your father walked in. The sexual tension was palpable.

“Night.” You said to Billy. It had been a day since the kitchen encounter and you still felt breathless just thinking about it.

Billy looked up from where he sat, sipping whiskey at the kitchen table. “Night Y/n.”

You leaned on the table running a hand through your hair. “Oh- Did Pa tell you when he’d be back from town?” You tilted your head, looking at Billy, awaiting his response.

Billy downed his drink and shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe another hour.”

You hummed and nodded, letting quiet lay upon the kitchen for a moment. The silence was suffocating. You noticed how he had finished his whiskey, the glass now empty, Billy’s lip print faint on the rim.

He began to stand up, presumably to wash it. You immediately took the glass from his hand, your fingers skimming his briefly. Billy’s eyes widened.

“I can wash it. You do too much around here.” You said shuffling over to the sink. You started to pump water when you felt Billy’s mouth near your ear.

His voice was low, smooth, and you didn’t mind the sweet smell of whiskey either. “I don’t mind helping out… especially when it comes to you.”

Your breath hitched. Billy’s lips gently skimmed the nape of your neck. This was new. He’s never placed his lips on you, but you were sure as hell not complaining. Heat rose in your stomach as you turned to face him, forgetting entirely about the dirty whiskey glass that currently sat in a sink of sudsy water.

Billy’s gaze flicked from your lips back to your eyes. The look was fleeting but you caught it, you knew what he was thinking.

“We shouldn’t.” You whispered softly.

“Do what darlin’? Your goin’ to have to be more specific.” Billy drawled.

Butterflies fluttered painfully in your stomach. “Don’t play dumb..” You replied, voice shaking a bit due to the anticipation.

Billy then raised up his hands in a sign of surrender. “Alright then. Goodnight Y/n”

He turned to leave when something snapped inside you. Was it desire? Were you losing your mind? Who the hell cares at this point. Your body was screaming for his attention, so you reached out a hand and grabbed one of his suspenders, pulling him flush up against you. You quickly mashed your lips against his in a quick, but passionate kiss.

When you pulled back Billy looked pleasantly surprised. He then smirked down at you, lips parting to speak. “I’m not one to follow rules anyways.”

Before you could give a witty response in reply his lips were back onto yours, tasting and savoring the feeling. His lips were soft against yours, but you could feel the intensity. Billy’s hands slid around your hips, pushing you against the sink. Your own hands found their place on his shoulders, the shoulders you had once fantasized about, now in your grasp.

Your mouth worked more frantically now, the heat building inside your core at every swipe of his tongue. You nipped at Billy’s bottom lip, causing him to emit a low groan that made your insides flutter.

“Darlin’ I don’t know how I was able to stay away from you for so long..” Billy mumbled against your lips. You gasped for air as he bowed his head, peppering soft kisses on your jaw.

“When I first saw you…. I knew I wanted this.” You breathed, head tilting back slightly to let Billy gain better access to your throat.

Billy’s cock grew painfully hard in his pants, but he wanted to savor this. Savor you.

“You sure you want to do this darlin? Don’t want to get you in trouble…” Billy murmured.

“I’m tired of playing it safe.” You responded quickly, sliding up one of your hands to dig it into his curls as he kissed down your neck.

“Oh?” Billy said in an amused tone. “I hope your feeling brave because I want to fuck you right here.”

You moaned at his words. “Fuck it. I need you.” You whined.

Billy released your hips and cupped your ass lifting you with ease before moving slightly away from the sink to set you down on the counter. Billy began to move down, obviously heading down towards your cunt when the sound of boots walking up to the front door could be heard from the porch. You both looked at each other for a moment, frozen.

You then scrambled away from Billy, fixing your hair and turning yourself back to the dirty dishes. Billy as well made himself look busy as Tunstall strode through the front door making his way into the kitchen.

His eyes widened when he walked into the kitchen, then he relaxed. “Oh, I’m surprised y’all are still up.” He said groggily, obviously tired from the horse ride back from town.

“Hello Pa.” You said sweetly, silently glad that the intense moment of passion before didn’t affect your voice. You turned away from the sink walking over to hug him, ignoring Billy who was leaned up against one of the kitchen counters, nonchalantly looking at his hands.

You embraced your father, though you were mildly annoyed with the interruption. When you pulled back you tilted your head at him. “You look exhausted.”

Tunstall chuckled dryly. “I was just plannin’ on going to bed.” You smiled at him.

“We’ll go ahead.. Goodnight.” You hugged him once again before letting go. Your father gave you a thankful look and gave an acknowledging “hello” to Billy before making his way upstairs. You held your breath until you heard his bedroom door close.

A puff of air escaped your lips and you pinched the bridge of your nose. “God- that was close.” You muttered thinking about the rage your father would’ve felt if he’d seen Billy with his hands and lips on your body like that. You looked up and Billy’s eyes were trained on you. He pushed away from the counter and stepped closer.

He grabbed your hips, pulling you towards him as his mouth skimmed the shell of your ear.

“There’s no way in hell I’ll be able to go to sleep after that..” He murmured.

You sucked in a breath, butterflies fluttering painfully in your stomach. You wanted him so bad, but you knew the risk.

“But- My Pa-“ You reminded him, your voice breathy and quiet.

Billy smirked, taking one of his hands and cupping your cheek. His hand was calloused and warm- you loved it.

“You know how to be a good girl and keep quiet don’t you?” He said in a low, raspy voice. Billy seemed to be struggling to not to tear your clothes off right here- right now.

You were hesitant, but your desires were bigger.

“Follow me.” You finally whispered. This earned you a squeeze from Billy's hands on your waist and a lopsided grin. You took his giant hand in your own and led him quietly up the stairs. You felt Billy’s lips press against your arm as you walked, kissing you slowly.

When you finally made it into your bedroom you made sure to lock the door quietly. The only sound to be heard was the distant drone of your father’s snoring.

“You have to be quiet- ok?” You whispered to Billy as he led you to the bed.

“Darlin’ I should be telling you that.” He grinned as you laid down on your back, arms stretching above your head. Billy climbed on top of you, thighs on either side of your hips as he smirked down at you.

You tilted your head slightly down, giving him what some would call “bedroom eyes”. Billy chuckled and bent down, meeting your lips. He liked the taste of you, if he could get drunk off your lips he would. Every night.

Soon you were both a frenzy of kisses and fingers. Your hand was dug into Billy’s curls as he kissed you, tongue swiping over your mouth. You let out breathy moans into his mouth that made Billy feel intoxicated.

“I like it when you make cute little sounds like that.” He murmured, kissing up and down your neck leaving bites and marks as he went.

You arched into him as he kissed, in utter bliss. Eventually your dress was off and so were his garments. Billy’s hands traced the slope of your waist. You felt his hands, so calloused from his pistol.

“You're perfect.” He mumbled against your neck, breath tickling your skin.

“Billy I need you..” You choked out, squeezing your thighs together.

“Let me take care of you darlin’.” He drawled, taking one of his hands down your navel towards your cunt. You spread your legs, surrendering yourself to him.

Soon his hand was rubbing firm circles on your clit, his mouth on yours. He swallowed each of your choked moans. You tried your hardest to keep quiet, but Billy wasn’t making it easy.

You felt needy and impatient, you wanted his cock buried inside of you. As Billy massaged his fingers on your cunt you sat up slightly, still kissing him, and reached down and took his cock in your hand. Billy froze, eyes fluttering as you slowly ran your thumb over the tip.

“Darlin’ I haven’t finished with you yet.” He murmured, keeping his groans hushed by your lips while you slowly dragged your hand up and down his length.

“I can’t wait any longer.” You whispered. Billy nodded and gave you a lopsided smirk, taking his cock in his hands and running it up and down your folds. He was fine with getting right to it, he waited long enough for this moment already. He finally sunk into you, causing a hiss to escape your lips.

Billy immediately started snapping his hips, pounding into you. Noises kept escaping your lips, Billy slowed. You reached for Billy’s wadded up shirt that laid on the bed next to you. You put it in your mouth to keep your moans muffled. Billy, almost like he was more turned on by this, kissed your forehead before slamming into you again.

“F-fuck.” Billy groaned into your shoulder, sliding out of you for a moment. He then leaned back and flipped you over, your back arched and pretty pussy displayed for him. You gripped the bed sheets as you pressed your face into the mattress. Billy sheathed himself into you again and grabbed your hips. In this position he was able to go deeper than before. Tears pricked at your eyes as he fucked you, cock stretching out your walls, knot building in your belly.

You felt your orgasm approaching, your body trembling with pleasure. Billy’s hands squeezed your hips harder as he trailed kisses down the slope of your back. You whimpered as his thrusts became sloppier. You were both panting at this point, the shirt in your mouth becoming damp.

“S’good. Just like that…” Billy murmured.

Finally your orgasm hit you, legs threatening to give out. Billy groaned as you squeezed around him, pushing him to his own orgasm. Billy came, spurting into your cunt, cum dripping down your thighs.

You relaxed your naked body, crumpling onto the mattress. Billy did the same, raking his hand through his messy curls. He turned his head to look at you and chuckled when he saw his shirt in your mouth. He gently reached over and took it from your mouth before placing a gentle kiss on your lips. You fluttered your eyes and looked at him.

“Good girl..” He murmured slowly, tracing hearts on your face. You blushed, nuzzling closer to him. You felt content now, knowing you finally got what you wanted. Him.

How your father would handle it would be another day's problem. The only thing you could think about now was how his arms wrapped around you as you both laid exhausted.