#brain hears cowboy and I just

[shhh-secret-time]

Part 2 is 21 pages. Part 1 was 16 pages. Combine that together and that's a 37 page request I pumped out in a day.

oops.

Warning: NSFW, Strong-Language, Dirty Talk, Slight Praise Kink, a bit of jealous behavior, mention of character death, bug violence(?), bit of PTSD

Pairing: Gunslinger!Kyle x Fem!Reader

When you finally woke up, the first thing that came to your mind was just how dry your mouth felt. You swallow roughly and it burns the back of your throat in a different way the alcohol of last night did. It felt like you were trying to swallow steel wool, forcing what little saliva pooled in your mouth down your throat.

The second thing was the fact the horse had gone back to a slow trot. No longer could you hear hooves on cobblestone. The wind was no longer whipping around your head and through your hair. The smell of the city long gone, now replaced with a deep earthy scent.

The third was the feeling of Kyle's arms still wrapped around you, one pulls away from your side for a moment. You feel him move around, trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes. He presses his fingers into his heavy eyelids before returning them to the reigns.

Finally, all three things fall into place as you piece it all together. Kyle feels the way your body bolts up away from his chest and brings his horse to a stop. He pulls her off to the crummy dirt road and off to the side.

"Oh! I apologize! I didn't mean to fall asleep like that! I can't believe I just passed out!" Panic sets into your voice and guilt eats at you when you realize he probably rode all through the night.

"It's fine ma'am. I figured you could use the rest. Please don't take any offense or nothin' but you look like you ain't seen much shut eye." Kyle smiles at you holding his hand up to try and settle you.

"I-.... you’d be right. Still, that's no excuse. You're still a stranger, the fact that I just fell asleep like that..."

"A stranger you shot a man for. A stranger you saved from gettin' strangled to death. I never did get to thank you for that." He pauses for a moment as he gets down from the horse. Kyle takes the reigns with him, choosing to walk along aside the horse now. "I've only had a few people in my time willin' to do somethin' like that for me and I at least know their names."

It hits you like a brick. In less than twenty-four hours you got into your first ever bar fight, shot a shotgun, slugged a man with said shotgun, all but bribed the sheriff, ran off with a man who didn't even know your name, and then fell asleep on said man who didn't even know your name. You catch yourself staring down at the handsome gunslinger, breaking yourself out of the daze trance like stare. It was hard not to admire him; looks aside he's been nothing but a delight to you. It would have been all too easy for him to just dump you off somewhere, leaving you and your problems behind.

Instead, here he was. Walking alongside you and his horse, without even so much as asking you about your business. Why you wanted to go out West, or why you needed to hire him in the first place. You hadn't even told him how much you were paying him for all of this.

"Ma'am?" Oh, right, your name.

"I'm being all types of rude, aren't I? I'm sorry..."

"Ain't nothin' to apologize for. I figured you got a reason for keepin' secrets. If you don't wanna tell me, I ain't gonna make ya." He shrugs.

 It takes you a minute to gather your thoughts, but when you do you finally gain the courage to ask him. "Why are you being so accepting about all of this? Shouldn't you be surprised or at the very least upset?"

"The way I see it, you saved my skin back there twice. Once with Knucklehead and the other with the Sheriff." He says sheriff with a sneer, "I owe you. Besides the way you begged the sheriff to let us go, I could tell you were in some kind of trouble. Wouldn't be right of me to turn my back on someone who needed help."

"So, what, you're just doing this out of obligation and the kindness of your heart?"

That makes him laugh again, but he quickly shakes his head. "Guess you could put it like that. Walk the righteous path and clear all debts sort of ordeal. But I don't think it goes that deep. Like I told the bartender last night, I'm just a simple fella tryin' to make a livin'."

You sit on his horse in awe, if this was an act he was putting on it was a damn fine one. You run your fingers through the horse’s mane, brushing out the sand and dirt on the poor creature who must be so tired. She huffs a little, but she doesn't move her head, so you continue.

After a few moments of walking and silence, you tell him your name. Your full name.

Every time you speak, he gives you his full attention, looking up at you with that gentle smile. You expect his eyes to widen like everyone else's when you drop your last name, your family was famous after all. Instead, he nods along and practices the sound of your name on his tongue.

He says it again and hearing it whispered in that voice of his sounds divine. Once he likes the way it feels and sits, he turns back to the road and keeps walking.

"Pretty name...like the way it sounds. I hate the fact that I ain't gonna get to use it much." His lips purse, talking like he's just mumbling to himself.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it wouldn't be real wise to be usin' your name if you're tryin' to go into hidin'. Even if we are on the road alone, I don't wanna take any chances. If I get in the habit of usin' your name, I ain't gonna wanna stop." He brings the rim of his hat down over his eyes trying to hide the blush on his face. Even though he says it with such confidence it's hard to look you in the eye.

He's not alone, his words have a greater effect on you than he knows. You pull the cloak still wrapped around your body closer to your form, burying your face in the material. Maybe you could just rub your flushed face away or at the very least it would buy you time to slow your heartbeat down.

Kyle was right about one thing. Your last name has brought you nothing but trouble your whole life. So, for now you'd get rid of it, toss it to the side like the various newspapers you saw littering the city streets. Let it drift away and be carried by the Eastern winds. It was time to leave the city girl you were raised to be behind; you were going out West now.

"The only thing I can't seem to wrap my head around." Kyle breaks the silence between you two again. "Is how someone like you learned to shoot like that."

"How do you mean? It doesn't take much to point a gun at someone and pull the trigger, can't really miss with a shotgun when you're that close."

"That's what I'm askin'. It don't take much to pull a trigger, but you knew how to hold it. Held her like you knew her."

"How'd a lawyers boy go from that to being a bounty hunter?" You ask, bringing up the little fact that Sheriff Cartman spat at him last night.

His lips press together in a thin line and for a moment you feel like you might have crossed a line. Said something you shouldn't have, but when his shoulders slump forward you can feel something different. It's not anger in his eyes, maybe regret? Hurt that rests behind those tired green eyes.

"I don't know why I'm tellin' you this. But we're gonna be together for a while, might as well make conversation I suppose." Again, he talks like he's not really talking to you. His inner thoughts spilling from his mouth like brandy in a bottle. "It was bandits."

Your blood runs cold, that could mean anything but, in this context, you had a feeling it wasn't a good one. Your fingers brush down the coat of the horse as he talks, finding comfort in the animal. You can feel the warm and gentle breathing coming from her. If you squint, you could almost swear they had lined up their breathes. She would take in an inhale, and he would let out a puff of air.

"Pa was a lawyer, Ma was a stay-at-home mama. He made enough for all of us and another. I have a baby brother they adopted when I was younger." He goes to tell his story with a little pause in between.

"You said have. He still around?" That question hurts to ask, but curiosity was gnawing at you. You wanted to know more about this gunslinger, that included the bad too.

"Yeah. I think it was when I was fifteen? Pa was puttin' me through school, was studyin' to be like him. I was gonna put away bad people just like him." He takes his hat off with his free hand, he stares down at the inside of the hat. You catch a glimpse of stiches and patchy line work. Past the scuff marks and tears on the old thing it looks like someone tried to patch it back together again. Enough to where it would hold up. But past that there was a little black and white picture tucked in the makeshift pocket of one of the patches.

A skinny man, honestly looked like a strong gust of wind could blow him away, standing next to the most gorgeous looking woman you've ever seen. Her hair was put up in a tight bun, curves on every ounce of her that made her look like something out of those fancy paintings. The dress she wore clung to her body and on her lap was a little boy. Black hair that didn't match the shade of grey on either of the adults behind him. He had a big toothy grin on his face as he held an outstretched hand for the other boy beside him.

It was Kyle. Much younger than he is now, hopeful looking face with his hair cut short and kept clean. The curls sat neatly on the top of his head, and he dressed like some of the men your father did business with. Fine button up grey shirt tucked into a pair of black slacks. A grey tie came down from his collar that disappeared behind a black vest. Still had that soft smile on his face as he looked at the camera.

He quickly puts the hat back on feeling your eyes peering down behind him. Again, you felt like you got a peek into something you shouldn't have seen. If he was bothered you couldn't tell, he just kept talking.

"Pa was always real good at that, puttin' bad people away. Could do it the civilized way, take him down and give 'em a trial. Rely on the system to put 'em behind bars and supposably reform 'em." He scoffs at that statement, "lotta good all that did. Pa put away the wrong man. Some no name bandit leader thinkin' he could take the short way through life and rob some rich folk."

Kyle stops, completely. Stops the horse, stops talking and just stares down at the ground below. You watch a little red scorpion scurry after its dinner. Stinger pulled back and at the ready.

"Men like that got one thing goin' for 'em. They travel in numbers. Numbers that don't like when you mess with their own. Pa wasn't even the man that brought that bandit leader in, but he was the reason why he'd never walk under the sun again. They were gonna keep that no named man locked away in the deepest parts of their holdin' cells. His men didn't like that idea much."

The scorpion chases the target down until they come to a ledge. Something that would be so easy for you to just step over, something that would barely be an obstacle in your way. But for the tiny bug that was fleeing for its life, it was the end of the road. It wasn't dexterous enough to try and make it over the little ledge, the path to freedom taunting it as it falls on its back.

"Don't really know what they were thinkin' or how they came to the conclusion. But they decided in the dead of night they'd...burn down the town? Came in on horseback makin' all types of racket. I remember Ma pushing my brother in my hands an' tellin' me to run out to where we kept the stagecoach. Somethin'-" He chokes and clears his throat to collect himself. "Somethin' about the horses already hitched and ready. To just jump on and wait for her and Pa."

The scorpion closes in on the bug. His stinger blocking the view of the sun, casting the shadow of death over the poor thing.

"I protested, wanted to stay and help her pack bags. Carry somethin' other than my cryin' brother." His hands clutch the sarape around his body, right where his heart would be. "She told me not to argue with her and to get my ass outside. Never heard her curse before..."

The bug kicks its little legs, trying to roll off its back. It squirms, fights, and rocks trying to do anything. Anything but die.

"I did what she told me. Go where she told me. You don't question your mama when she tells you to do somethin' ya know?" He licks his lips, and you wonder if they're as dry as yours are right now. "I put my brother and I in the carriage and I wait for 'em. Then...the house just...erupts. One of those sons of bitches threw somethin' against the side of the house and it catches a blaze."

Kyle closes his eyes, a bead of sweat drips down his face. Like he can still feel the roaring flames against his face. The poor man is standing there reliving it all.

The scorpion finally brings its stinger down. Strikes the pathetic creature in the stomach one good time. The venom does its job, you're sure if the little thing could scream out it would. Instead, it just goes slack, goes limp and dies.

"I... I didn't know what to do. I had just learned to drive the damn thing, so I grabbed the reigns and snapped it. If it wasn't for my brother, I probably would've run into that blazing hell. Probably be a dead man too."

"Probably." Your voice finally pipes up. Kyle looks up at you and you're not giving him the look of pity others have when he tells this tale. Your face is softened sure but there's nothing in those eyes that tell him you're looking down at him.

"That's the last time I saw 'em. Last time I said good night...I only wished I woulda got to say I love you."

The scorpion closes in on its meal. Now that it's not trying to run it figures it can eat in peace. Pinchers at the ready to pick the corpse up.

"I didn't. Spent a lotta time wishin', and a lotta time gettin' good with a gun. Pa taught me there were other ways to take a man down, not everythin' had to be solved with violence. We could do it humane like instead of usin' a gun. Just a shame I turned out to be a damn good shot."

Kyle starts walking again, and as he does, he walks over the scorpion. Crushing the creature under his heel without a second thought. You watch as when he moves his heel the thing lays there with the sand already started to claim it's body. You wonder if it got to at least get a bite of what it worked so hard for.

"So that's how you started bounty hunting?"

"Yep. Started with the assholes that took my parents from me and my brother. Guess they're the only people I never brought in alive."

"Really?!" That was a part of the man you didn't learn from rumors.

"I'm flattered you seem to think I had the ability to bring in fifteen men all by my lonesome, but no. I gave 'em the same treatment they gave my parents." Most men would be proud of that, say it with their chests out. Kyle doesn't, he keeps his eyes on the road and his head down.

"You burned them?"

"Set their whole lil' hideout on fire. Got a bottle of whiskey, drank some of it for courage and then tucked a cloth in the rest of it. Lit the sucker on fire and tossed it."

You try not to imagine the sounds that fifteen men on fire would make, or the fact that not even one of them got away. Kyle was a lucky man that there weren't a few to make it out of that fire that night. Who knows what would have happened if he was caught or worse, they lived to enact revenge like Kyle had.

"Took my brother to an old friend’s ranch and we stayed there for a while. You ever hear of the Marsh family?"

"Sure. They're famous ranchers, good at breakin' in horses and growin' crops."

"Their son is my best friend. I call that man my brother. Call him that until I take my final breath." A smile finally comes back to his face, talking about someone that means so much to him seems to put him at ease.

"Why'd ya leave?" You ask, letting a smile come across your face at the sight of his.

"Didn't feel right just sittin' around. Plus, if word got out that I was stayin' in one place I figured it'd just bring trouble. My brother didn't do nothin' so I asked if I could leave him there. Been out on the road ever since, I send him letters from time to time but it ain't easy gettin' 'em out to me so I just assume he's alright."

"You should visit your brother...I'm sure he misses you." You tell him. It almost breaks your heart the way his smile doesn't reach his eyes.

"With the reputation I built up, I'd only be bringin' danger to his doorstep. I couldn't do that to him or Stan." That must be his friend he mentioned, you note. "I take what I earn from bounty hunting and send it their way. Just because I chose to throw away the life our Pa had set out for me, doesn't mean he's gotta. Every nickel and dime I get goes to keepin' me goin' and buildin' a better life for him."

Your heart swells, swells with admiration and pain. It hurts to see a man who so clearly loves his family have to keep himself away from what little he has left of it. Who has to distance himself from the two people he'd call brother. Neither really blood related to him but they might as well be. You can't help but admire him, how he tries to carry all that responsibility on his back. You thought the tired look in his eye was just from staying up all night and riding into the morning.

"Kyle, that's incredibly brave of you. Putting yourself out there for your brother, if it means anything...I don't think you're throwing your life away." You find that courage you somehow mustered up last night and put your hand over his, the one that still has the reigns. He looks up at you, watching as the sun sits behind your head like a halo. You bend down a bit and get closer to him, whispering as if someone was listening in. "I think what you're doing is the most noble thing I've ever heard. You're the kind of man they talk about in story books...if I didn't believe in you before I do now. Thank you."

"For....for what?" He asks and swallows, his adams apple bobs. For the first time in a long time, he can't seem to find his voice, it drops to a low whisper.

But could anyone blame him? The way you look at him so gently, every little blink of your eyelashes has him sinking deeper and deeper into the color of your eyes. That golden sun behind you makes you look like an angel, and maybe you are one. As far as Kyle is concerned only an angel could look at him like that. Find a way to admire him and sing his praise after being told he set fifteen men to hell in a blaze of hate.

"For being you. I used to not think there were good men out there, but you're changing that." You say it like it's the simplest thing on earth. Like he should have just known the answer to that.

But when you say it, it's like being punched in the chest. You have your hands so tightly wrapped around his heart he's sure if you say anything else he's going to keel over. He lets himself have this moment, lets a breath escape his chest and holds onto each little word you said.

"Ma'am, you ain't got a clue as to what you're sayin'. You don't know me well enough to be passin' judgement like that."

"Hm. Good thing I'm a real good judge of character. A man as bad as you claim to be would've robbed me blind especially if he knew for a fact, I was carrying enough money on me to buy your friends ranch."

His eyes widen at that, he stares at you as if you just told him the sky was red and the rapture was coming. Kyle's respone catches in his throat, unable to say anything at that. You can't help but laugh at that, the sweet sound coming from your lips makes his knees weak.

You toss him the stained white bag of cash, the once pure white cloth now soiled by the desert sands. Dirt clings to it but that doesn't stop him from catching it and opening it up. True to your word, there was so much cash in here Kyle could probably beat a man to death with it.

"You walked into that damn saloon with this?!" Kyle yelled quickly, closing the bag.

"I risked a lot on trying to find you." You say with a little shrug. "Sold everything I owned, took what I could carry and set out to hire you."

"You're either crazy or desperate. Please, for the love of God don't take offense to this."

You laugh again and shake your head; you couldn't argue with him. He was right. Maybe you were both, but it was either this or get unlucky one day and go missing. You'd take your chances with the handsome man next to you. At least he wasn't a stranger much anymore.

"I just got tired of the life I was living. Heard there was good opportunity out West. Figured I could settle in Texas or...Colorado?"

"Colorado?! Ma'am if this is some elaborate plot to give me a heart attack just to take me out, you're doin' a damn fine job." He clutches the bag into his chest and takes a deep breath. Quickly he stuffs the bag into the saddle bag on his horse. She stirs a little and shakes her head letting him know that her patience is running thin.

"So, you're suggesting Texas?"

"It's better than fuckin' God damn Colorado!" The way Kyle's cursing picks up when he's stressed is kind of adorable.

Laughter echoes down the road all the way out of the state. You finally find yourself off the East coast for the first time in your life. The company you keep makes it all the better! Eventually you stop at the nearest town and purchase your own horse. You have to slow down a little because Kyle has to all but teach you how to mount her and how to keep her from freaking out. He's calm and patient with you the entire time, only laughing at you a few times when you forget to buckle the saddle completely and almost slide right off. He teaches you how to take care of her and you end up spending most nights swapping stories by campfires.

You're somewhere deep in the state of Missouri, where exactly you're not sure that's Kyle's job. The night sky hangs above your heads with the stars staring down at you. Each little twinkle makes you think they're winking down at you. Kyle's told you that a few of the stars have names and stories behind them, you let him ramble on about it for hours before informing him that you already knew all that. The look on his face alone was enough to make you laugh.

You must have laughed again because Kyle's looking up from the worn-out map up at you now. He has a lazy smirk, the corners of his lips hidden behind the scruff on his face that's starting to grow in. His hair just now starting to go back to when you first met him, he's shaved it off a few times since your journey much to your dismay. You complained for days when he first did it only to be met with an eye roll.

That was something you always noted, that whenever you would complement Kyle's appearance, he'd brush you off or find a way to deflect. Telling you that you were the pretty one or that you were just seeing things because you weren't drinking enough water. The heat was getting to you, and you needed to take some time by the shade.

But he really was a handsome man, the rugged look didn't really line up with his personality but damn if it didn't do something to you. Being next to the man for so long, having made the first real connection with another person for the first time in your life. Well, it was getting harder and harder not to see him in a different light.

Especially since every moment leading up to this point, Kyle would do everything in his power to protect you. Putting himself in harm’s way time and time again just to make sure you'd be safe. Bandits thinking the both of you were easy picking, Kyle's reputation didn't reach every corner of the country. And the few times it did, it only encouraged people like Knucklehead to try and take a shot at bringing him down. There were a few times people recognized you. Someone had put out missing wanted posters with your face plastered all over them.

Of course, when danger came rearing its ugly head, Kyle would be there by your side. At first it was a lot of him taking shots for you, you patching him up. Using those studies your parents provided, removing bullets, and cleaning the wound left behind wasn't exactly what you had studied but eventually you got the hang of it. Each time you'd scold him to be more careful, he'd argue that catching bullets with his body wasn't something he liked doing. And each time just as you'd finish bandaging him back up, he'd give you a look that had your heart fluttering. His eyelids would lower down, and his lips would part in just a way that made them look so kissable. But every time you'd think you got the courage to just do it, he'd pull away and wish you a good night. Disappearing in his tent as if he wasn't just staring at you thinking the same thing.

Little did you know he was thinking the same thing. Countless nights he'd stay awake at night, tossing and turning in his bedroll trying to get the image of you so close out of his head. It had been a long time since Kyle felt this close with anyone, much less got to share the road with another person. Those little moments where you'd brush your fingers over his exposed skin or when you'd wake up nice and early to make sure he got something in his stomach before riding off. It made it harder and harder to want to not make you, his woman. To not take you up in his arms and take you into his tent for the night.

But that's not why you hired him. Once he got you to Colorado, he'd drop you off, probably stick around long enough to make sure you were settled, and then be on his way. Leaving you in that state all by yourself and he'd return to wherever the road took him. That thought filled him with an indescribable loneliness, one he tried to keep out of his head. He tried to focus on how good he felt just being near you, savoring the moments he got with you now.

Like how pretty you looked when you sat next to the fire, back against a log that he dragged over to make it a little more comfortable. A book resting in your lap and a page between your fingers, some novel you both picked up and swapped back and forth. How every time you looked over at him thinking you could steal a few glances without him noticing, only to be caught in the act. Ever since he met you back at the bar you would avert your eyes from him and try to find something else to look at or pretend that you were looking past him. He found it so cute.

"Somethin' funny darlin'?" You don't know when he started calling you that, can't recall but every single time it makes your heart leap.

"Just thinking about that time, you were telling me about the stars. How I'm gonna miss this..."  You say with a little shrug and smile, reaching down next to you to grab the bottle of wine.

"You'll still be able to see 'em in Colorado. In fact, I hear they're mighty pretty over the desert." He says watching you take a drink from the bottle.

"It's not the same." You wipe your mouth with the sleeve of your blouse, the red liquid staining the shirt. "It's not the same if you don't have someone to share it with."

It's Kyle's turn to blush a little, he gives you a little hum and a nod like he understands. There's a moment where he thinks his heart stops, but it thumps against his chest, and he finds it in him to speak up. "You always know just what to say to make a man flustered huh?"

"Since when have I talked to other men like this?" You ask scooting a little closer to him, that night wind pushing you a little closer to his warmth.

"I don't quite recall..." He mumbles meeting you halfway.

Kyle helps close the gap between the both of you until your thighs are touching. The material of his jeans brush against your legs, exposed because of the skirt clips holding your skirt to where they just cover your thighs.

"Think it would work on another man?" Your voice drops to a whisper.

His brows furrow at that and his face twists into a scowl. You watch the way his eyes narrow and darken a little. He huffs and you can smell the scent of coffee on his breath. Kyle doesn't say anything, instead he goes for the wine bottle in your hand. The man takes a swig of it, trying to hide the jealous feeling that's starting to creep up on him.

"Reckon it would... if you had the backbone to be talkin' to other men."

"What's that supposed to mean?" It's your turn to furrow your brows at him, they knit together.

"Just sayin' you ain't exactly a smooth talker with everyone you come across. I seem to remember a certain run in with that snake oil salesman that was tryin' to get you to agree to go on a lil' date with him." He taps the bottle against his lips a few times before taking another drink.

You take the bottle from him, crawling over his lap to reach the darn thing. You press your palm into his thigh and suddenly he's very aware of just how close you are to him. Kyle isn't sure if you're doing on purpose but either way it makes his dick twitch against the fabric of his pants.

He doesn't give you time to protest as he moves the bottle out of reach, holding it back just as you brush your fingertips against the cool glass. "No, I think I remember you fumblin' over your words and I had to come over and tell the fella you weren't interested."

Damn him. Damn that handsome red head for calling you out and looking so cocky while doing it. His smirk returns as he cocks his head down at you, the way his lips glisten against the campfire almost has you distracted. Almost.

But you wanted your wine, so you take another lunge for it. Pressing your body into him to try and climb over and snatch it back. His hand comes down to your waist, keeping you in place.

"Ah! No ma'am, I think someone's had enough. All that talk about flirtin' with other men ain't much like you. Think this is messin' with your head." He tuts and shifts you in his lap. He's hoping you don't feel the effect you're having on him.

"You know what I think Broflovski? I think you're jealous!" You challenge crossing your arms under your chest.

"That so? That what you think darlin'?"

"Why else would you be acting like this? You're acting like a damn child! Now give me my bottle, I'm a grown woman I can drink as much as I wanna!"

He laughs at that. Laughs right at your protests and the way you're pouting in his lap. It makes your face burn up, it makes you wanna hit him, makes you wanna kiss him until he shuts up.

"You're real cute when you get fussy you know that?" Kyle lets the compliment slip out of his mouth before he has time to think about it.

He knows better. He knows he shouldn't be flirting with you, shouldn't get attached. But that ship has long since sailed, he's been infatuated with you since the day you told him he was a good man. But fuck if it isn't getting harder and harder, especially with you sitting so pretty on his lap.

"Kyle Broflovski! If you don't start acting right!" You know the blush on your face doesn't help, the scolding falls on deaf ears.

"I ain't the one crawlin' into a man's lap for a bottle of cheap wine." He sets the bottle down beside him off into the dark where it no longer matters. That hand finds home on your waist, rolling his thumbs over the material of your skirt.

You suck in a breath and sit up on your knees, pushing them to rest on either side of him. "You're not just another man...that what you want me to tell you?"

"Can't say I wouldn't like it." Kyle's voice dips low, gravely and makes a shiver zip down your spine.

"If you don't want me flirting with other men..., why are you waiting so long to kiss me?"

"Oh darlin'," He growls and squeezes the back of your thighs, rough hands sliding up your skirt. "I want nothin' more but...you and I both know I can't."

"No, I don't think I do. Enlighten me." You're not letting him get away this time, there would be no running off to his tent to avoid this. You had him wrapped around your little finger, even if your heart felt like it was about to explode.

" 'Cause if I start kissin' you. I'm gonna keep doin' it..." He gets closer, sitting up to his full height just to graze his lips over yours. "Keep kissin' ya 'til I ain't go breath in my lungs left. Then I'll wanna take you in my arms jus' like this." He gives you a little squeeze pressing his chest further against yours. "I wouldn't be able to stop myself from makin' those sweet lil' noises come out of your mouth. Wouldn't wanna stop either."

Your breath hitches and you let out a soft little moan. You card your fingers through his hair, his hat was put away somewhere in his tent, so it left those gorgeous red curls unguarded. He groans and inadvertently bucks his hips up into you, the rough feeling of his jeans grinding up against your underwear.

"Fuck and if you ain't makin' it difficult. Talkin' like that makes me think you planned to get me all worked up. You ain't stupid, just about the smartest woman I've ever met in my life." He continues grinding his hips into you, rolling you over his growing erection. Kyle groans and doesn't even bother trying to stop the sounds coming out of his mouth.

"K-Kyle just kiss me already!" You whimper in his lap.

And he snaps, whatever wall he built up to resist you comes tumbling down. Just the way you say his name has him tossing all logic out the window. He grabs the back of your neck and pulls your face down towards him, crashing your lips onto his. His teeth almost knock into yours from how desperately he needs this, how much he needs you. It's like being able to stretch your legs after riding for days, or a cool drink of water after being under that blazing sun for too long.

That crackling fire that keeps your little camp sight illuminated doesn't give off nearly the amount of heat Kyle's kiss does. His chapped lips move against yours, somehow despite being on the road for so long they're still so soft. It takes a second for your brain to register that he's finally kissing you, after so long he's finally doing it. Before he can pull back, you press back into the kiss. Hands coming down from his hair to cup his jaw like it'll anchor you from floating away.

He kisses you again and again, each kiss turning more passionate. He goes from a desperate kiss to kissing you like a starved man. His tongue slips out and swipes against your bottom lip, when you don't open your mouth, he growls and pulls you down, so you're now firmly sat in his lap. The action makes you gasp, and he slips his tongue into your mouth, more than excited to explore the inside of your mouth until he finds your tongue. You poke back nervously and chase after the pink muscle. Finally, your tongues twine together, wrapped up in some kind of dance.

He kisses you until your lungs burn, desperate for air. In this silent little battle to see who would break first, it's you. You pull away from him and take in a large gasp. The lack of air and how heated the kiss was makes your head spin. Just as you collect yourself, he's on his feet lifting you up with him. You cling to him and wrap your arms around his neck, even though you know he won't drop you the shock of being moved so quickly like that caught you off guard.

"W-where are we going?"

" 'm takin' you to bed." He walks you over to the tent he's got pitched up, moving to your tent. Kyle bends down and gently lays you down on the bedroll. He sucks in a breath when he sees the way your hair's all laid out and how you've got your thighs pressed together. Lips wet and slightly puffy from the way he kissed you. "Now if you ain't the prettiest thing I've ever seen. Take your blouse off for me."

Kyle looks down at you with darkened eyes, heavy eyes filled with lust. He watches every single little movement you make. They watch as you slip the buttons of your blouse through the little slots holding them together. Watch as you slip the shirt down your arms painfully slow, far too slow for his liking. But ever the gentleman he simply hooks his thumbs in his belt and watches, rewarding you with a low hum.

"That's my girl." His praise all but makes you purr; you like the way he calls you his. "Jus' a lil' more for me. Take that skirt off." His hand slips up your skirt and taps the side of your thigh.

You do it, work the skirt clips off along with the skirt itself until you're left in nothing but your underwear. He tosses them to the side letting them land in your pile of bags. He tugs off his sarape and works his belt, the clinking of his buckle rings out. The only other sound besides your heavy breathing is the bubbling brook next to your camp sight. Occasionally, you can hear the horses stir, but right now all you can focus on is the way Kyle strips down to nothing.

Kyle lays his gun down carefully on top of his clothes before joining you under the furs used to keep you warm. His cock nudges against your thigh, twitching against how soft it feels. You let out a shaky sigh and peer down at it, the angry red tip brushes against your skin.

"I-is that going to fit?" You ask him suddenly a bit worried, but it melts away when he takes your jaw and kisses you again.

"Darlin' we can stop at any moment. But if you'll have me, I'll make you feel real good." His hand snakes down between you two and his fingers go to spread you open.

You let out a little moan and whisper a soft, 'yes' and it's all he needs to continue. His middle finger rolls your bud gently at first until you start to squirm and push against his hand for more. He applies enough pressure to the circular motion that has you seeing stars. He continues rubbing circles on your clit and your hips buck up against his hold. It felt so good.

You moan out in pleasure when he slides two fingers into your hole with ease, your arousal making it so easy for him. He pumps his fingers in you once or twice, pushing into that spot that has your back arching off the bedroll. Kyle keeps his fingers buried in you for a moment, spreading them out and curling them in a come-hither motion. His lips find their way down on your neck, leaving faint love bites. Sucking on the exposed skin with enough force to pull a loud moan out of you.

"Kyle..." A low breathless whimper escapes your lips as he comes off your neck with a pop. "Please, please."

"Sound so pretty when you moan my name like that. Shoulda done this sooner." He works his fingers in you again, thrusting them up into you over and over again. "Fuck you're so fuckin' wet."

You're moaning so loudly you're sure if you weren't alone on the side of the road you would have woken a whole neighborhood. When you try to muffle those moans, he stops moving his fingers leaving you just teetering on the edge. The knot in your stomach starts to tighten, he can feel the way your pussy flutters around his fingers.

"That's it sweetheart, let go for me. Look at me when you cum." He holds your jaw with his free hand making you look up at him.

Your eyes widen and as you finally clench around his fingers giving you that orgasm you desperately begged for. His fingers keep pumping in and out of you until you're whining, and tears are beginning to spill from your eyes.

"Shh, I know, but I gotta make sure you're nice and prepped for me darlin' don't wanna hurt ya too bad." Kyle whispers in your ear until he pulls his fingers out of you finally. You whine at the loss of contact, suddenly feeling so empty. You watch him bring his fingers up to his lips and swirl his tongue around the digit. "Think you're ready for me baby?"

"Kyle, please. I want this, I want you!" You whimper.

"That's a good girl. Roll over on your stomach for me." He leans back up and gestures for you to do as he says.

So, you do, you roll over on your stomach and just as you do, he tucks a pillow under your stomach. His hands glide up and down your legs until they find purchase on your hips. They tighten and squeeze around your waist pulling you back against his cock. Kyle glides you back against his member, grinding your wet pussy up and down his shaft. He lets out a soft moan and lets his head lull to the side.

"Oh," He says quietly as the tip of his cock nudges against your folds, "thaaaaaat's it." Kyle slips every inch of his cock into you slowly, dragging your velvet walls back against him. He pushes and sinks deeper into you until he bottoms out.

"O-Oh god." You bury your face in the bedroll. "Fuck feels so good."

"You have no fuckin' idea..." He grips your hips and begins slowly thrusting in and out of you, "how many times I've thought about fuckin' you senseless. How bad I just wanted to make you fuckin' mine!" His voice comes out in a breathless moan over your desperate cries.

" 'm yours!" You're a mess at this point and he hasn't done much but finger you and start a lazy pace. Each time he drags his cock out he pulls all the way out leaving you empty again. Only to push it right back in at that antagonizing slow pace, like he's trying to get you to remember every little vein on his cock. "Please just go harder, I can take I-I promise!"

"Yeah? Want me to really fuck you baby? I was gonna take my time with ya, show you just how badly I wanted ya." Kyle bucks into you with a sharp thrust making you bounce forward, "but listen to yourself, beggin' for my cock. Beggin' me to go faster. Do it again."

You bite your lip and squeeze your eyes shut; the first time was easy you weren't really thinking about it. Now that he's making demands of you it makes you feel flustered. That embarrassing feeling of having him looking down at your wrecked form washes over you. When his fingers card through your hair and grip the base of your roots, you let out a shocked gasp.

"Darlin' I believe I asked you to do somethin'. I ain't exactly a patient man right now. Not from the way you're squeezin' me soooo tight." He nudges your insides with a lazy little thrust. All it does is make you moan and claw at the bedroll.

"Please Kyle! Please, please, please" You're reduced to nothing but moans and whines. Begging him to do something, anything!

He seems satisfied with that from the way he pulls you back against his chest. Pulling your head out from the bedroll and letting your moans ring out into the night. With a quick slap against your ass, he begins to pick up the pace. The length of his cock claiming you and pounding into you. Your heart rate spikes as he pushes into you deeper than his fingers could reach. He hits that spot in your pussy that his fingers hit earlier, the one that has you seeing stars and drooling. Kyle lets out a moan when your cunt tightens around him again, one that lets you know just how good you make him feel.

"So fuckin' tight. You take me so fuckin' good baby, like you were made for me. Made to take this cock. Fuck gotta feel you cum around my cock this time. That's it, that's it." Kyle grunts and takes his hand out of your hair. Snaking it around your form he grinds his fingers against your clit again.

Your eyes roll up to the back of your head from everything. The way his cock bullies your insides, how his fingers assault the already sensitive bundle of nerves, and the way he spouts filth in your ear. The praise makes you feel so good, puts you in a head space you've never been in before. The only thing you can think about is what he tells you to. Right now, he wants you to cum around his cock, so you do. You don't even register it until it happens. Until his hips begin to lose that rhythm and he stops pulling out as much.

But when your walls clamp down around him like they had done his fingers, milking him for everything he's worth, he lets out a low moan. He calls your name, not a pet name or the fake name that you've been accustomed to. Your name.

"That's it baby. Fuck I love you, fuck I love you." There isn't so much as a second thought as he just repeats how much he loves you. After one final hard thrust he's spilling into you, filling you with his hot cum. He empties until it's dripping down your thighs, creating a white ring around the base of his cock.

Both of your bodies were wet with sweat from being pressed together. What little strength he has keeps him from collapsing on top of you. His chest pressed against your back, your hearts beating in unison. Eventually Kyle sits back up and slips his cock out of you, carefully lowering you down onto your bedroll again.

You look up at him with an exhausted smile, absent mindedly pushing stray curls out of his face. He looks down at you and smiles in return, he takes your hand and kisses the inside of your palm. That afterglow of sex that clings to you and the way you look disheveled has to be his new favorite sight. You guide him down towards your chest and let him rest his head against your heartbeat. He closes his eyes and holds you close.

"I love you too." You say after a while, not sure if he's asleep or not from the way he hasn't stirred.

"Be mighty awkward if ya didn't." Kyle murmurs in between your chest, placing a gentle kiss onto your collarbone.

"Took you long enough to confess." You joke.

"Yeah...don't know what I was thinkin'. Guess I just didn't wanna put them feelin's out there if you weren't inclined to stick around. You got dreams of settlin' down somewhere quiet..."

"Nothing says you can't be there with me when I do."

"I don't know if I could ever go back to a quiet life like that...I don't think I deserve somethin' like that."

"Oh hush." You cup his face and bring it up to yours. "Don't ever wanna hear you talk like that again Broflovski. You're a good man, I told you that before. I don't love bad men."

"You ain't ever been wrong before."

"Wasn't wrong when I went out to find you all of them months ago. I ain't about to start."

"Ain't?"

"Huh?"

"You said ain't. Never heard you talk like that before, usually you talk all proper like. I think you're pickin' up my accent."

"Go back to laying your head down!" You huff and shove his face back down into your chest which only makes him chuckle.

"If I get to wake up to somethin' like this every day.... I reckon I can see myself settlin' down. Maybe we can get a little farm, start our own little ranch."

"I like that...we can send a letter to your brother, and he can join us."

Kyle smiles warmly at that. You remembered his brother, that conversation on the road that started all this. He closes his eyes and begins to picture it all. You and him tucked away in some area in Colorado with his brother who he hasn't seen in years. Maybe down the road you could change your last name to his. His hand finds yours and he rubs his thumb over your ring finger. Imagining a little metal ring, one that matches his.

The road’s starting to look a lot less lonely.

<- Previous Chapter

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: February 14

“The Cowboy Song” by Garth Brooks

[thedeadthree]

AYRENN URTHEMIEL (the exile) // VERLAINE VICENTE (the golden rose)

MINA MORGANTHAU (when twilight strikes) // VIORELE IORGOVAN (vtm: parliament of knives)

the loveliest @leviiackrman tagged me to do this cutest template for some of my ocs! ty so much jess! 🖤

tagging: @griffin-wood, @blackreaches, @confidentandgood, @chuckhansen, @risingsh0t, @marivenah, @queennymeria, @preachercuster, @jackiesarch, @yennas, @saintsilver, @shellibisshe, @cobb-vanthss, @loriane-elmuerto, @blissfulalchemist, @arklay, @adelaidedrubman, @florbelles, @belorage, @amistrio, @steelport, @nokstella, @rosebarsoap, @celticwoman, @sunsetseasons, @aceghosts, @hoesephseed, @jacobseed and you!

[livlaughloveluke]

𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐲- 𝐥.𝐜 🐡

daughter of hypnos! reader x luke castellan 💤

headcannons in which luke is dating the sleepiest girl around💘

“and i know you’ve been having nightmares lately, and i’m sorry i fall asleep first” -faye webster

he totally calls you “sleepy.” 

it started off when he was a dumb teen, just him being an idiot and teasing everyone. but i mean, the name wasn’t exactly incorrect. and so it stuck, carrying along as you grew into a young adult and began dating !

he’s such a sweetheart when it comes to you. while he gently yells at the campers for their lack of effort, he would never even think about raising his voice when speaking to you. even if you skipped training because you “needed to rest.” (you had slept a full ten hours before)

but when you did show up for archery or sword fighting, he’s over the moon, showering you with praise.

“that was amazing!” 

“you did so good today, sleepy.”

(you shot two arrows and then dipped)

nightly stargazing!! 

you and luke spend hours laying on top the grassy hill, staring above at the twinkling stars. you pointed out all the constellations, and luke would point to a star and say it was yours.

“thats our star, babe.”

“luke that’s part of the orion.”

he would sneak into your cabin on his restless nights, and you would comb your fingers through his hair to send him into a deep sleep. and you made sure all he had sweet dreams instead of his haunting nightmares.

reading him stories all the time ! 

he hates reading, since all of the words get scrambled and it hurts his brain to put the letters back together. but when chiron adjusts the temperature so it would rain and water the strawberry fields, there wasn’t many indoor activities to do. so, you let him pick a book you could read together on those rainy days.

after a week visit to your home, you brought back your record player and some of your favorite vinyls, and luke was absolutely fascinated. he never really listened to music before, so hearing such majestic sounds was a new experience. now every time you travel back into the world, he requests a new album. he’ll listen to it on repeat until you’ve acquired a different record.

you would share abstract stories about monsters, greek heros, and other intriguing topics to the campers around the bonfire, while luke stared with hearts in his eyes. he like to think that one day, hundreds of years from now, a camper would be reciting a story about you and him. the daughter of hypnos and the son of hermes, two children who were the closest depiction of soulmates ever known. 

secret weekly sleepovers in cabin 15 were a necessity ! 

he always showed up with a bouquet of wildflowers, and one small yellow daisy for each of your siblings.

all of your brothers and sisters loved him, constantly dragging him into family board game night.

similar to stargazing, watching for clouds !

when you had free time, you were constantly laying in the dry fields and staring up above at the clouds, trying to picture them as objects.

“it’s a cowboy hat!”

“that’s clearly a toad in a sailboat.”

[leonfucker3000]

Gotcha

Bounty Hunter/Cowboy!Leon S. Kennedy x outlaw!fem!reader

Warnings: smut, feelings (of regret) (and slight yearning), oral sex (f receiving), vaginal sex, fucking against metal bars. 16+ because I was you once just don’t be weird

Ummm I wrote this last year in, like, March? I posted and finished it December, though (yikes) with that being said I’m sorry if the writing is…I suppose questionable? Yeah, sure, questionable. On ao3 here if you prefer that site. Not proofread btw.

oh, right, reader’s outlaw name is ‘ranger’ but it’s mentioned once. I was inspired by Leon’s Arthur Morgan mod but you can imagine him in any outfit, all that’s mentioned is that he wears a leather hat (I think). cowboy Leon is the reason I keep on going, thanks.

tumblr is a scary, new place for me. Please be kind😱

The sound of the horse's feet running in the desert sand fills the hollow night. Gunshots and gunpowder making Leon’s nostrils flare, the metallic smoke filling up his lungs uncomfortably.

Close. He’s so fucking close. 

You stop your horse and bolt for the abandoned  bank you robbed just a month prior and wait . It’s hot and cold, a thin layer of sweat coating your skin as you try to keep your breathing still. The weight of your revolver is the only thing that feels remotely natural, the only thing that reminds you that you have at least some control.

His horse blows and grunts as it comes to a halt, a cloud of sand threatening his vision until he bats it away. The swinging door of the bank creaks along with the wooden floorboards of each step he takes.

You can hear him grow closer, the spurs on his boots jingling—a warning, a taunt. He’s got you, and had it not been from how fucking tired you were, you would’ve kept going.

“There’s not much use in hidin’ anymore,” Leon’s gruff voice breaks the low whistling wind, “Think we both know the only way you’re getting outta here is in cuffs or in a rug dragged across the sand.”

You hold in a scoff, the bandana muffling your steadying breath. Hiding behind the wall, you hear his steps come and go, small curses falling from under his breath and muttering you can’t put together. 

After a moment of silence, you muster up the courage to peek around the corner. A mistake. 

“Gotcha.” His cowboy hat casts a dark shadow across his face, the dim moonlight barely making the whites of his eyes visible. His own revolver is pointed to your head, the reflecting metal almost blinding — another taunt to your capture. 

“Kennedy.” You speak through gritted teeth, sour and bitter as you say his name.

“Ranger.” A humorless chuckle escapes his lips, “Not one day goes by that I don’t get sick of hearin’ that name. Can’t even get a beer without a sad sap waiting to tell their story about encountering you.”

“Good to know I’m on your mind at least. Hadn’t seen you in sometime, thought you died.” You watch as his hand tightens around the grip of his gun, his index finger sliding towards the trigger. 

“I’m not gonna die before I catch you, or kill you. One or the other.” He rolls his eyes as he watches you point the gun to his leg, “Put that down before I blow your brains out. The sheriff’ll get mad at me for the mess.”

“I think he’d be happier if you killed me, really.”

“Maybe, but I think they’d rather kill you themselves, and slower.” A sigh leaves you as you drop your revolver to the floor, not bothering to put your hands up because, well, there’s no use for it. “Back up. Don’t need you gettin’ any ideas. Get in the vault.” 

The vault? He doesn’t give you time to protest, taking a step forward so his gun grazes your forehead, “Fuck, alright, I get it .” 

You back into the vault, the metal bars making it your makeshift jail. He closes the door shut, watching you through the spaces between the bars and giving you an annoying smug smirk, “Look at that . Behind bars is a natural look on you. Can’t believe it’s taken this long.”

Leon takes a walk around, finding the key and locking the ‘jail’. Convenient. “Y’wanna start by telling me why you’ve been doing this? They’re gonna get it outta you anyway, best to let it out now. A pretty face ain’t gonna getcha freedom.”

“Pretty?” You muse.

“Shut up.” He scoffs.

“I don’t think my reason would really make a difference.”

His eyebrows furrow, “Maybe not, but every outlaw has some kind of story to tell.”

You slump against the back wall of the vault, letting out a small groan as your hand runs your face. If you’re going to get locked up and eventually hung, you guess it wouldn’t hurt for at least one person to know the truth. He’s not…the best person but out of everyone else, maybe he is. “My family. Dead broke. Needed the money.” 

He stares at you for a moment before laughing, gripping one of the metal bars as he snickers, “you really expect me to believe that? If I wouldn’t let a bastard cheat me in poker, I’m not gonna have you cheat me now.” 

“‘M not cheating you for anything, I gotta family at home. Mouths to feed, debts to pay, shit to do.”

“That’s a real shitty thing, lying about your family like that.” He grumbles, looking at you like ‘lying’ was worse than all the money you’ve stolen. The lives you threatened.

This man’s priorities seriously needed to be straightened out. You pull down your bandana and toss it to the side as you get comfortable on the floor, the bank door’s small creaks making the night all the more eerie. 

When you look up, he’s still staring at you. His lips are curled into a slight snarl and, had it not been for the bars, he might’ve lunged at you.

Leon’s wondering what your game is, he knows what you do when you lie—how you look away from him and take a step back and your lip always twitches without fail—you’re not doing any of that. “Even if you did do it to keep your family afloat, what about the rest of the people you wronged?”

“What, the rich? They don’t give a damn about us, why should I give a damn about them?”

“I’m talkin’ about the public robberies. Like the train robbery down in Georgetown, or the bank in Laredo, those were all big jobs, you tellin’ me those were victimless crimes? Bullshit. There’s oughta be a casualty.”

“If there was a casualty, it wasn’t from me. I’ve never fired a gun at an innocent.”

He scorns, “but you’ll fire a gun at the people tryna protect the innocents.” 

“None of them are dead, are they? They’re at home with their families not needing to worry about eatin’.”

He feels conflicted, because fuck if you’re telling the truth then he feels like an asshole all those times he’s almost killed you. A family. You have children, a husband, maybe, unless he’s dead—is that why you’re doing this?—And he’s fought with you more than he can remember. He sniffles, wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb and shaking his head, “how old are your kids?”

It was your turn to chuckle, “i don’t have kids. Well, sort of, if you include takin’ care of my siblings.”

Guess he got it wrong. He doesn’t know if he feels better or worse, his stomach churns at the thought of your younger siblings waiting for you to come home just to never return. Never to know if you died or ran away. No, he’s sure they’d figure out you died, if you were doing this for them, why would you leave them? God he needs a drink. “You don’t gotta momma or daddy or what?” 

“My momma’s sick. Daddy’s gone.” You shrug as if it’s nothing, maybe it is nothing to you but it’s everything to him. He hates that he’s so easily swayed. You being fine with this should tell him this is a lie but— 

But what? He doesn’t know. You’re a criminal that has added unnecessary stress to the public, even have other outlaws mad at you for taking their money. It’s simple as to what he needs to do.

“Doesn’t matter, I’m sure after your first three robberies you woulda had enough money to feed a church for the next 5 years. Didn’t need all of that, that’s just fucking greed.”

“I don’t keep all of it. I give it to people like me. Too many families have lost their kids just because they couldn’t feed ‘em for a week. Bet they don’t tell you that, though, do they?” 

He knows better. He knows that he knows better. This is a lie, he’s the law, he needs to uphold the law, no exceptions. No hesitation. “So, what? You’re a modern day Robin Hood?”

“If I say yes will you shut the fuck up?” 

“If you tell me the truth I will.” 

“Mother fucker— I am. You have a gun, have me in a fucking vault, I’m unarmed say for my knife, but I’ll give it to you if it’ll shut you up. what do I have to gain from this shit? You’ve caught up people for way less, I don’t have shit up my sleeve to leave.”

A moment passes, and suddenly? He hates himself.

“God damnit.” He curses under his breath, turning his body away as he groans. He can still hear the horses outside, can hear the wind chiming, playing a small song. You keep quiet, watching him pace back and forth once before pinching the bridge of his nose. “‘M gonna fuckin’ regret this.” He mumbled to himself, putting in the key and swinging the metal door open. 

He shifts to the side, motioning with his head, “Go. Get. Leave.”

“What’re you doing, Kennedy?”

His lips press into a fine line as he exhales through his nose, “What kinda man would I be if I took you away from them when I had the chance to save you?” He sighs, “They need you. God knows no one else will give a damn.”

You hesitate, you don’t know why—you should’ve ran as soon as the key went in the damn hole. You grab your bandana you threw off earlier, wrapping it around your neck with a curt nod. “Thank you.”

He doesn’t meet your gaze, a small frown on his face before he speaks, “yeah, yeah, just turn your ass around before I find a reason to lock you up again.”

You tip your hat to him, walking out of the vault. Your spurs are the one to jingle this time. 

“ ‘sides, I always did like the back of you.” 

You planned to keep going. You really fucking did.  

When you turned around, your bodies were only two feet away. You swore you walked further from him but honestly, you couldn’t tell anymore. “Those are dangerous words you’re playing with.”

His back straightens and he peers down at you, “Are they?”

“You’re a confusing man, Kennedy.”

“I don’t remember telling you I was simple.”

You tut, “Haven’t you made enough mistakes already?”

He has, he knows it. The first damn mistake he’s made was making it a point to try and capture you. A year and 4 months he’s spent on this–on you. But, really, what bad would one last mistake do? He’s already made so many, it’ll just be another bullet to his chamber. He takes a step closer, chests nearly touching as his hands twitch to grab you, feel you without the mission of needing to hurt you and take you in. “I’d say not enough.”

All those times during his chase he could’ve gotten close, on top of you, felt your breath against his as you cornered one another. He hasn't, and he’s tired of letting it sit at bay. Learning a new side of you made him crazy. Crazier. 

God is he an idiot.

Your breaths fill the tense atmosphere as he takes another small step closer, was it always so hot in here? 

“We shouldn’t.”

“Who says?”

“ Everyone .” You stay like this for what seems like an eternity until Leon pulls you in by the back of your neck, his free hand moving to your waist as his lips crush against yours in a hasty kiss. He groans against your mouth and your fist coils the fabric of his shirt. Your hats tipped one another’s off and fell to the floor.

After a few seconds, he is the one to pull away from you. Your eyebrows furrow as you look at him in confusion, he looks at you like it was the answer. He clears his throat and takes a step back, wiping away your kiss and he looks away, trying to deny himself of what he wants. 

Who he wants so, so badly. 

He struggles to speak, to move, to think. He watches you and you watch him, both of your breaths at a skewed pace. 

“Make a mistake with me.” He whispers, he looks different. You can finally see his face, moonlight highlighting his sharp features. Never noticed how handsomely-pretty he was before. 

God, fuck it.

You step forward this time, pulling him in by the collar of his button up and pressing your lips against his. He licks the seam of your lips and you part them, teeth clacking and tongues entwining as he grabs the wide of your hips and pushes you against the metal bars. Ouch. 

He pulls away from you with a sigh, looking offended at the fact that he even had to leave the plush of your lips. His hand leaves you to unbuckle your belt with fervor and slip his hand inside your pants and panties. 

His fingers slip between your wet folds and he dips his head down to kiss your neck. Small moans escape you as he slowly rubs your clit, feeling your wet slick coat his fingers. “All those pretty sounds for me? I think I’m flattered.” 

You groan, “of course you’re a bitch even when doing this.”

“I take my words back, then.” He rolls his eyes and opts to bite down on your shoulder, your nails dig into his back through the fabric of his shirt and he shudders when you bite him back. “fuck, ‘s not enough. Gotta taste you.” 

He drops to his knees and fumbles with your belt until it’s off and shoves your pants down, his breath stuttering when he sees the soaked fabric. He drags them off you and pulls one of your legs over his shoulder. You hold onto the bars for balance, “Jesus Christ, wait . Almost made me fucking fall—“

You’re cut off when he spreads your lips and licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit. You moan, fingers grabbing a fistful of his hair and his eyes fluttered shut. He sighs at the taste of you, “fuckin’ delicious, can’t believe I didn’t do this shit sooner.” His voice, almost a groan, wavered before pushing his face back between your legs. 

His tongue lapped at your entrance and his nose bumped up against your swollen clit. His fingers dimple the fat of your thigh and his cock twitches the louder your sounds get. He curled his tongue and pressed it deeper, despite the proximity, he needed to get closer somehow. 

Trying to close your legs doesn’t work, smushing your thighs against his face only adds fuel to the fire.

You nearly sob when he pushed a finger inside your cunt, thrusting against your g-spot with a quick, steady rhythm. “ Leon , shit, shit , don’t you fucking stop. “ He slips in another finger, looking up at you with half-lidded eyes and a shit eating grin.

First time you’ve said his name, not kennedy or bastard or asshole – his name . And fuck, does it sound pretty coming out of you like that, how that alone makes his cock strain against his zipper. 

Filthy squelches and moans flood the empty bank while Leon eats your pussy like a starved man. His own moans escaping as you buck your hips against his face. You pull on his hair roughly and you swear you hear him whine

“Gotta get you nice ‘n wet f’me,” He muttered against your pussy and his eyes fluttered as he tried to keep open to watch you. He wraps his lips around your clit and sucks hard — a cry of his name and you’re so fucking close to coming on his face, panting and feeling uncomfortably hot. 

“Too much—“ you gasp, “Oh shit, fuck, it’s too much.” You choke, uneven moans escaping you as you finally come. You expect him to pull away but he doesn’t falter. “Mnh, wait, fuck, get off, get off . ” You beg breathlessly.

Leon groaned again and pressed closer, “need it, give it to me, honey. Gonna make you feel good, just don’t make me fucking stop.” He pleaded, feeling dizzy as he got high off your taste. You attempt to push his head and mouth away but your attempts are in vain. 

You let out yet another choked sob when he forces another orgasm out of you, reluctantly, he pulled away, licking his lips clean and wiping the rest with the back of his hand. His free hand rubbed your thigh to try and soothe you, asshole turned caring in a matter of seconds. “Sorry.” He murmurs, “couldn’t help myself.”

Your breaths are uneven pants as you look down at him on his knees still. “ Fuck me , Kennedy apologizing? I’m speechless.”

“Oh, we’re back to Kennedy?” 

He gets off his knees while yours quiver, “It was a mistake. A fluke.”

A smirk plays on his lips, “yeah, sure. We’ll see.” He turns you around and wraps his arm around your hips and pulls them against his own, pushing you forward slightly so you’re bent over, “grab the bars.” And you do.

You can feel the outline of his cock press against you, “so fucking ready, didn’t waste a goddamn second—y’sure that was a fluke? Getting my pants all dirty, honey.” You feel embarrassed, but not for long when you hear his belt buckle clink and the sound of fabric rustling – heart racing and pussy throbbing as to what’s happening. You turn your head and see him spit and runs his hand over his cock to get it wet. He smirks when he catches you, you shake your head and look forward again. “Gotta be sweet to me or I’ll make you work for it.”

“God, kennedy–” You gasp when he slides the head between your folds and nudges it at your entrance. 

“Leon.” he corrects, pushing the tip inside you, “C’mon baby, I know you can say it.” he grabs your hips to keep you from pushing back onto him. Fucker . 

“ Leon.”  

“Atta girl.”

He snaps his hips into you, body shuddering and your mouth opens with a sharp gasp and choked back moan. His grip on your hips tighten when he pulls out and pushes back inside to the hilt. His breathing is nothing but grunts, groans, and pants, you’re not much different – if anything else, you’re worse. “Can’t– fuck –handle it? Can rob every fucking bank but you can’t take some dick.”The way he fucks you is merciless, he wants you to feel good but also wants to punish you for everything you’ve done. Everything you’ve done to him. 

He dips his hand lower to smack your ass, “Answer me. Had a lot to say just minutes ago.” 

“Sh-shit, I can take it,” you shudder, “I can take it–” Your skin is wet with sweat and it gets harder to hold onto the bars, each thrust making you lose a bit more of yourself. Fuck him and fuck this but holy shit do you suddenly not regret everything you’ve ever done.

You’re mewling beneath him, happily and prettily so. “Pussy’s so tight, just needed a good dicking down.” he moans, “That all it took to get you to – fuck that’s good – listen?” he moves one of his hands from your hip to your clit, stimulating it as he fucks you a little harder, “Say my name, God, I need it.” he groans.

“Leon, Leon, Leon– ” You moan loudly, you don’t know when the sheriff is coming, but if he’s close you’re sure he can hear you easily. Your vision blurs when he touches you and your legs tremble with each spot his cock hits. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve gotcha, not lettin’ you go.” Leon’s an idiot, but if his mistakes will make him feel this good again, he’ll keep making them. His composure starts to dwindle when sweat beads his forehead and you start squeezing him like a vice. Made for him, he thinks. “ Take it , fuck yourself onto me honey, atta girl.” his breath stutters. 

Who are you to deny him – you do as you’re told and he moans. His hand goes up to your neck and pulls your back against his chest. Within seconds, you come around him with his name on your tongue and a scream. He bites down on your shoulder with a desperate groan before he pulls out and streams of hot come hit your ass.

He holds onto you like you’re his life line, like he’ll fall if he lets you go (he will). You two stay like that for a good 20 seconds before he lets go of you and takes a couple of steps back. He turns away from you and you can hear him zip up his pants and belt clunk when he fixes himself. You do the same, a little slower, both out of lack of energy and embarrassment.

Leon also feels embarrassed. This is the part where he’d usually get whoever he was sleeping with a glass of water, a quick bath, and ask if they’d rather go home tonight or he takes them home tomorrow. He can’t do either of that, and he’s supposed to hate you and definitely not fuck you or let you go.

He swallows, “You need to get going. He’ll be here soon and he won’t hesitate to shoot if he sees you run.”

“Right.” you whisper, taking a deep breath to steady yourself as you bend down to pick up your hat. You’re both in a daze, he looks at you, all guilty and nervous. His hair is wet with sweat and his cheeks are flushed, had it been anyone else you would’ve pushed his hair back to get a better look at him. But he’s not anyone else, and this was all a mistake . “Gonna stop coming after me now?” 

A weak smile tugs his lips, “In both ways, no. Can’t promise anything.”

You fight back a laugh but return his smile, turning away so he can’t see it. He picks up his hat next and watches as you walk away from him to the front of the bank. Like a lost puppy, he follows. “Need help getting up?” he motions to your horse.

“I’ll be fine, Kennedy. You need to worry about yourself rather than me.”

“Like I said, can’t promise anything.” 

You hop on your horse, ready to put all that you did with him in a box and stuffed away.

“Stay safe. Be seeing you.” he whispers.

You don’t trust yourself to speak so you nod, not looking back as your horse takes you away.

You’re a good mile out when Leon hears a horse’s footsteps behind him, then heavy human ones. “Where is she?” 

“I told you to follow me quick, Chris. She’s gone. Just thought I’d give you the message personally so you didn’t have to wait here alone.” 

Chris sighs and looks at Leon with nothing but hate. Ironic. “It’s not hard to do your damn job.”

“Can say the same about you – so, drinks? Need one after today.” 

Chris looks Leon up and down, eyebrows furrowed when he does so. “When did you change your hat?”

He blinks, suddenly realizing his is a little tighter.

Miles out, you realize yours is a little looser.

You suppose you two will be seeing another again after all. When you do, you'll finally be ready.

[luv4kozume]

🎯 𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐎 — MATT STURNIOLO

— # ❝ 𝐈'𝐦𝐚 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐨 ! ❞ 🎧 ₊˚⊹

Cowboy!Matt x Cowgirl!Black!Fem!Reader

Contains: Swearing, lowkey fuckboy!matt, mentions of alcohol, pet names (baby), oral m!receiving, cum eating, fingering, praise, teasing, riding, rebound sex, public(ish) sex, drunk sex, unprotected sex, creampie. Proof read!

Synopsis: A story in which you forget all about your ex after meeting Matt at a costume party.

Word Count: 3,916

💋 — Requested: “can you do a matt smut with a black reader where he sees her at a party and they fuck🙏”

a/n: SAVE A HORSE…. RIDE A WHAT?!?! Also I’m not the fanfic police, you can read no matter what you are, I keep my writing pretty general. Just followed the prompt for the request!! ENJOY BABIES!! 💋💋

Other song mentioned: Killin’ You Hoes by Trina 🤭

*:･ﾟ✧ 💌 *:･ﾟ✧

OCTOBER 31, 2024 ₊˚⊹

“YOU SEE THE OUTFIT, BITCH?” Your friend screamed at the top of her lungs as her acrylics wrapped around the steering wheel, whipping the vehicle around the corner. Nearly scraping her rims against the curb in the process, as she sped down the neighborhood to the tempo of Trina’s song. “CUTE FACE AND ASS SWOLL!”

Your palm flattened against your stomach, your face twisting up in discomfort as you peered out the car window. Your stomach churned with anxiety, but not from your friend’s reckless driving. You had grown accustomed to that.

No, it was something else entirely.

“Girl, what’s the matter? You’re not even finishing the lyrics.” She asks, her tone still high as she turned down the music.

The glitter from her cat-like makeup shimmered against her toned cheeks, the amber streetlights carving out her soft features.

“Nothing.” You lie, turning around to face her. She gave you a side eye before bringing her attention back to the road.

“You’re not still hung up over that bum ass dude, right?” She scoffed in a half joking tone.

You hesitated before answering her question. Had you made it that obvious?

Yes, it may have been true that the only reason why you were all dressed up and going out to this party tonight was because she practically dragged you out of bed.

Your now, ex-boyfriend, dumped you without any sort of warning not to long ago and you hadn’t been the same since. It was a struggle being productive everyday, let alone being social with others.

Your original plans for Halloween were to stay inside and pass out candy to the little kids that came to visit. But your friend quickly shut that “lame-ass” idea down— her words, not yours. You just hadn’t seen the point in doing anything else.

In fact, your costume choice had her name written all over it. You would never in a million years wear this shit, but she successfully picked your brain.

Your eyes glanced down to the bright buckle of your leather belt as your fingers nervously looped under the sleeves of your red flannel. A brown cowgirl hat to match, that annoyingly pressed against the car’s seat each time you’d move.

“No.” You huffed out, rolling your eyes. You had already heard enough of her lectures this week, you were certainly not in the mood for another. Especially since this was supposed to be your night to forget all about him.

“Good. Because I’m gonna tell you right now, I don’t wanna hear shit about him.” A playful smile pulling at her lips, glancing over at your every so often. “Besides, you might even meet someone here.”

“I doubt that.” You sigh, a faint smile spreading across your face.

*ೃ༄

It wasn’t long before you started to feel overwhelmed and slightly agitated. Not even ten minutes into the party, your friend darted straight to the alcohol and slipped in between a group of sketchy looking guys. You watched her from the couch, wishing to not get entangled in that mess.

You only agreed to come out with her tonight because she claimed it help you get your mind off your current situation. But now you were stranded alone in a strange house on Halloween night— left with nothing but the thoughts of your ex swarming in your head.

You blew a raspberry, peering down at your red solo cup that was practically still full. The bass of the music bouncing off the walls and echoing in your head, causing ripples to form in your drink.

You grabbed your phone that buzzed in your pocket. Squinting at the overwhelming brightness before lowering it to read a text from her that appeared on your screen.

bestie bae 💗

I think that guy in the cowboy hat likes you.

Hasn’t taken his eyes off you all night. 👀

You felt your heart drop to your stomach, scanning the crowd of various bodies for the vague description she gave you. Nearly giving up, you just assumed she was tipsy and pulling shit out of her ass. Until you made eye contact with him.

He stood leaning against the wall talking to some other guy. One hand buried into the pocket of his black jeans, the other holding a beer in his hand. A smug grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he glanced over at you. His eyes pierced right through you as if you were transparent, before turning his eyes back to the other man.

His ears were pierced, the silver jewelry shining in the party lights. His sleeves of his red flannel rolled up to his forearms, a trail of dark hair decorating them lightly. Finally, a black cowboy hat rested on top of his head, his brown locks falling gracefully over his forehead.

Your heart fluttered when his eyes shot back at yours for the second time, now eyeing you up and down. His gaze felt like he was slowly undressing you, peeling your costume off inch by inch to get to the most delectable parts.

You squirmed in the cushions of the couch, pressing your thighs together. Maybe it was the cognac, maybe it was the party atmosphere, or maybe it was just him— you couldn’t decipher the exact cause but one thing was for certain; you were most definitely attracted to this man.

You turn away, finally breaking the eye contact from the stranger. Darting them down to your phone to answer her text, but you couldn’t even send your message through before being interrupted by her new one. Warning you that he was coming your way.

“Hey.” He spoke, his tone low and raspy. Sending shivers down your spine. He stood over you confidently, forcing you to look up at him with those round, innocent eyes of yours.

“Hi.” You mumble, shutting your phone off and placing it on your lap.

“I’m Matt.” He revealed, claiming his spot on the empty couch right next to you. His thigh pressing against yours as he manspread, you couldn’t help but take a glance down to his groin.

“Y/N.” You reply, nearly inaudible due to the music still blasting throughout the house. But he didn’t mind, in fact he loved your shyness. It gave him all the more confidence to take leadership. And besides, he knew exactly how the quiet ones were like in bed.

Butterflies swarmed in the pit of your stomach, feeling the warmth of his body heat rush towards you as he leaned over to align his lips up to your ear.

The bass of the music pumping in your chest as you could smell the alcohol on his breath, slightly giving his speech a seductive slur, “What’s a pretty girl like you doing here—” He started, bringing his palm down to your bare legs, gently caressing the plush skin of your thigh, “—all alone?”

You had to exhale a breath in order to answer his question. You grabbed onto his bicep, leaning in towards his ear to whisper back, “Trying to get over an ex.”

“He dumped you?” Matt replied in mere shock.

You could only nod in response, mortified to admit that out loud to anyone that wasn’t your friend.

“What a fucking idiot.” He spat out. “Who would drop a girl like you?”

A faint smile appearing across your face, giving him a playful shrug, “He did apparently.”

A devious grin pulled at the corners of his lips, the same one from just a few moments before. Something sinful on his mind, mentally debating if he should even throw the idea out there.

But of course, his thoughts took over. He just couldn’t help himself, he would always be there for a sweet damsel in distress. And there you were, sitting so helplessly on the couch just begging to be ruined.

“Wanna take this upstairs, so I can show you how much he fucked up?”

*ೃ༄

Alcohol coursed through his veins, leaving him in a frenzy as the music from downstairs blasted through the walls. Your ass hiked up in the air, waving ever so slightly each time you’d lower your head down on his cock.

He had it made up in his mind that your ex had to be mentally deranged to toss a girl like you to the curb, with a mouth like that you’d get anything you wanted from him and more. All you had to say was the word and he’d do it in a heartbeat, no questions asked.

“Fuck baby, just like that.” Matt groaned, his head thrown back into the pillows behind him. “Keep going.”

More praises tumbled out from his lips, leaving you encouraged to go faster. Eager to see what face he’d make or the sounds that would come out from him as he finished.

His hips moving up on their own, slightly bucking up into you. Your mouth closing in on his member is just the right ways as your tongue swirled around his tip that oozed with precum.

Your fingers wrapped around the base, pumping the rest of what you couldn’t fit into your mouth. A pool of saliva bubbling around him and trickling through the gaps of your fingers as you continued bobbing your head up and down.

One of his hands came down, grabbing at your hat and quickly getting rid off it so that he could gaze upon the wondrous sight in front of him. Moving your hair out from your eyes, only for you to look up at him with that same helpless look you had on the couch. It was enough to make him spend right then and there.

His cheeks were flushed and his flannel was unbuttoned, exposing his toned stomach that would rise and fall with each movement of your tongue. A conniving smile tugged at the corners of your lips as your brought your mouth up to his tip, leaving a sloppy kiss against it before flicking your tongue on his slit.

“Fuck. You know what you’re doing, huh?” He groaned with a smirk.

You hummed against him, sending a pleasing tingling sensation all through his body.

“Keep doing that and I’ma cum.” He continued, this time nearly out of breath as his orgasm slowly approached. “Gonna be a good girl for me and take it all?”

“Yes.” You replied in a faint whisper that was hardly audible. Your timidness mixed with your risqué behavior was a dangerous combination. You never broke eye contact with him before slipping your lips past his tip, lowering your head back down as far as you could and pumping the rest with your hand.

His fingers caught in the sheets as he continued feeding you with praises through low grunts and moans. A knot twisting in his stomach as you picked up the pace, his brain completely fogged and all logic thrown out the window. Focusing on nothing else other than his high and the lust he had out for you.

“Oh, shit.” He groaned, his voice low and raspy. His fingers snuck around to the back of your head, pushing your mouth down further onto his dick. The tip hitting the back of your throat as his warm cum spurted out, some seeping past the corners of your mouth and trickled down your chin as he filled it up. “Come on baby, take it.”

Your eyes screwed shut, whimpering against his strong grip for a moment before he let go.

“Open.” He muttered, his hand gripping your face.

You stuck out your tongue, opening your mouth as much as you could. Your heart raced as his thumb pressed against your bottom lip, examining each crease and crevice of your mouth to make sure you did exactly as you were told.

“So good for me. I like that shit.” He smirked as he let go of your lip, amused at how it bounced back up in place.

A giggle slipping past your lips as you crawled up towards him, your knees sinking down into the mattress as you straddled his hips.

One of your hands went straight to his hair, brushing it back from his forehead, tipping off his hat slightly in the process. Your eyes flickered down to his lips, so soft and plump, you craved for them to be on your own.

Without any hesitation, you pressed your lips against his. It started off sweet and delicate almost, with your timid little pecks. But Matt made it clear he needed so much more, slipping his tongue past your lips and his hands navigated their way down to your zipper.

The kiss soon turned into a heated, sloppy mess. The sounds of your lips smacking against his, the mixing of saliva, your teeth clashing together— it all was a sweet melody to your ears that you could listen to on repeat for hours.

Matt swallowed each whimper and plea that slipped past your lips. A pool of your arousal filled up between your legs as his veiny hands removed your denim shirts at an agonizingly slow pace.

Now the only thing keeping your dripping center away from his length was the thin, taunting fabric of your panties— that you so desperately needed ripped off. Your hips instinctively began moving on their own, shamelessly rocking down onto him. So needy to get even the slightest bit of friction.

His fingers dug into the handle of your hips to hold you down into place. Another one of those cocky smirks spread across his face just before pulling away from the kiss. He adored the way you squirmed in his grip, practically crying in protest that he put your greedy, lustful movements to a halt. He absolutely lived for the teasing, he’d argue that it was his favorite part— other than the actual act itself, of course.

“So desperate for my cock, hm pretty girl?” He cooed as his hand traveled down past your stomach.

You tried to give him a response but your mind failed to form a proper sentence. It was completely fogged and consumed with an overwhelming amount of concupiscent thoughts. His finger tips teasingly danced just over the waistband of your panties before finally slipping into them.

Your head dropped down, hiding yourself into the crook of his neck. Your hands clenched around his shoulders, the fabric of his shirt entangling itself in your fingers. A series of whines and cries poured out from you. Taking in the rhythmic movements of his digits. You couldn’t help but grind down into his palm as you felt his fingers trickle down to your entrance.

The way your wetness oozed out from you and coated his fingers had his dick weeping. It ached in excitement to be buried inside you, pushing himself as deep as you’d let him. He could only imagine how it would feel to have your warm, velvety walls wrapped around his cock. You were already so whiny with just his fingers, he wondered how you’d sound with something much larger.

His name escaped past your lips in a breathy moan when you felt two of his fingers slip inside you. He only hummed in amusement, taking in the way your pussy hugged around his fingers so snugly.

“Such a brave girl, taking in the fingers of a stranger. Having me make you feel like this.” He coaxed in way that set your body ablaze, but that didn’t keep him from feeding you even more sweet praises.

“Pussy’s so good, I don’t know how he could ever let this shit go.” He nearly moaned at the way you were sucking him in each time he’d pump his fingers into you.

You whined into his skin, slightly upset that he even brought up your ex. You had forgotten all about him by this point and you wanted to keep it that way.

“Don’t worry.” He begins, gently pulling his fingers out from you, leaving you crying in protest. “I’ma get a taste of what he’s missing. Show you how special you are.”

Your head shot up, a flustered expression written all over your face. Your fingers caressed his jaw, his rough stubble pricking your finger tips, as you pulled him over slightly so that your eyes locked into his. You pressed your lips against his once again, your hands cupping around his face to draw him in closer as his fingers looped under the waistband of your panties.

You lifted your knees up from the mattress, only to bring them back down once Matt maneuvered your underwear off each leg. He groaned into the kiss, eagerness coursing through his veins as he quickly tossed them to the floor. His hand ran down along your back, eliciting a whine from you.

“Gonna ride me, cowgirl?” He grinned, grabbing a handful of your ass.

“Mhm.” You hum.

“Help me out.” He replied, referring to the fact that his hands were already quite busy.

You yelped as he raised you up, his fingers digging into the round cushion of your ass. Your dainty fingers shyly wrapped around the base of his dick, one of his veins shamelessly throbbed against your palm.

He sighed watching you place the tip at your entrance, running it along your wetness before finally slipping it inside.

“Oh, fuck.” You cry, it had been embarrassingly long since you last felt a stretch quite like that— it was definitely an adjustment you weren’t exactly prepared to make.

You tugged your bottom lip past your teeth as your palms flattened against his chest, slowly sinking yourself down on his cock. His hands now wrapped around your waist, holding you up straight so that he could see all of you.

“So fucking pretty, baby.” He groaned as he fought the animalistic urge in him to thrust up into you. “Taking my dick so well.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you fully sat on him, his cock stuffing you so full that you could see the bulge in your stomach. His warm hands roamed all over your body, gripping at your tits, squeezing your waist, groping your ass— anywhere and everywhere. He needed to touch, caress, and massage every single inch of your body.

But he’d be fooling himself if he didn’t see the embarrassment written all over your face— he didn’t want you to feel that way, in fact the complete opposite. So he knew he’d have to take the lead, which he doesn’t mind.

“Come here.” He huffs, his arms extending out so that your body falls into them.

Your head drops back down, hiding in the crook of his neck. His strong arms wrapping around your waist in an almost comforting way as yours draped over his shoulders. You could feel his heavy breaths began to pick up as he slowly began rutting his hips up into you.

You got a waft of his cologne mixed in with the alcohol from earlier, an erotic mixture that made your pussy flutter around his cock. One of his hands stayed on your back, his thumb massaging gentle circles into your skin as the other one made its way back down to your ass.

Your ass was heavy against him in a way that had him about to blow his load, he was lost in a trance at how it clapped against him. He fought the urge to pick up the pace, eager to see the ripple of your flesh and hear those sweet cries pouring out from you.

“You sound so sexy, baby.” He groans, propping up his legs so that his knees were now bent. This way, he’d have more control over the movements of his hips.

You only whine in response, the vibrations of your soft voice going straight towards his ear. It sent a shiver down his spine that had him yearning for more.

Your thick arousal trickled down his member, leaving it glistening in the dim amber lighting that the lamp illuminated in the bedroom. Your pussy squelched each time he’d pump himself in, your plush walls clamping down on him with each movement he made. The horrible slow pace drove him nearly to insanity but he had to make sure that you could handle it at first. But he hadn’t realized that he wasn’t the only one struggling.

“Faster, please.” You pleaded, your breath hitting against a sensitive area on his neck that made him shudder just a bit. Both of his hands now cupping your ass as a sly grin grew on his face.

“Is that what you want, pretty girl?” He whispered, adjusting his hips once more before finally giving your needy little cunt everything it ever wanted. “Nice and fast, having my dick touch that sweet spot of yours? I bet you want my cum too.”

A knot formed in the pit of your stomach and your soft pants soon morphed into desperate, broken moans and cries. He wasn’t kidding at that last comment he made, once he found that spongey area inside you, he didn’t give it a break. He angled his hips in a way so that the tip of his cock kissed that same spot over and over.

His fingers dug into your flesh, most definitely leaving markings to discover for later but you could care less. Matt’s dick had completely swamped your brain, like a parasite slowly taking control of your being— and you absolutely loved it.

Your own hips started grinding against his, your movements complementing his now sloppy thrusts. Your body squirmed in his strong grip as you slowly started unraveling above him. He was awfully close as well, a groan slipping past his lips as his cock twitched along your moist walls.

He continued showering you with even more lewd and sweet praises, so much so that you wondered how many other women he’s said these things to. Here you were, struggling to come up with just a few words while he was tumbling out full, proper and complex sentences.

“Squeezing around so fucking tight. It’s like you’re tryna suck me dry, baby.” Matt moans.

You’re so caught up in chasing your own high that you don’t even notice when one of his hands traveled down past your stomach. A sharp gasp slipped past your lips once you felt his finger tips press into your clit. He wasted no time massaging tight, quick circles into that sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Makes me wanna ask for your number.” He continues in a hum. “Would you like that?”

“S-shit!” You stutter, feeling your walls spasm against his thickness, eliciting a strangled moan from him.

Matt pulls more curses out of you as you rode out your orgasm. His hips still rutting up into as you coated his fingers with your sapid juices.

“So so good for me.” He slurred out, pulling his fingers away from your puffy clit.

Both of his hands now hugged your waist keeping that same sloppy rhythm going with his hips. Your sweet voice filling up his ears and consuming his thoughts as you sobbed out his name.

It wasn’t long before he approached his own orgasm. Your body curled into his as you felt the hot, sticky ropes shoot up into you. A white ring forming at the base of cock as he continued fucking his cum back into you before finally pulling himself out with a pop.

The two of your heartbeats raced in your chests, syncing with one another as your heavy pants filled the room. The erotic aroma of sex filled the room and you mentally cursed yourself for fucking this random man in another stranger’s bedroom.

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Navigation! ‧₊˚🥂✩ ₊

[sluttywoozi]

Like A Cowboy

Maintaining a homestead can be exhausting. Luckily, you've got a super hot cowboy husband who's got enough energy to do it all and take care of you once the work is done.

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~25.2k

Like A Cowboy | Cowboy Like Me | Give You My Wild | May Flowers

Let Me

You've been the student athletic trainer for your uni's basketball team all year, and you're pretty sure Mingyu has had a crush on you the whole time. You're not sure how much longer you can resist him.

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~9.0k

Part 1 | Part 2

Scrunchie

Prompt: Mingyu’s new little ponytail and my own evil brain

Rating: M (18+) | Word Count: ~0.8k

Salty and Sweet

Prompt: every time you taste my cooking you just say it’s amazing does it need more salt or not I swan to John | est. relationship, suggestive thoughts, kissing

Rating: M (18+) | Word Count: ~0.6k

Alternative Methods In Pain Relief

You have cramps, Mingyu has hands, need I say more?

Rating: M (18+) | Word Count: ~1.0k

Enjoy The Masterpiece

College boyfie!Mingyu wants you to sit on his face. He's literally begging here.

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~2.1k

Good To Me

You know exactly how to get your husband to fuck you like he means it.

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~1.8k

Code of (Mis)Conduct

You're just trying to keep your head down and your coworkers out of your business but that's not exactly easy when your cubicle sits between Choi San's and Kim Mingyu's.

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~10k

Lavender Haze

When you and your boyfriend smoke together and he gives you that look, you know exactly what you’re in for.

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~2.8k

Adore You

Mingyu prides himself on being the perfect personal assistant, on knowing exactly what you need and giving it to you before you can even ask, so when he hears you say your ex never could get you there, he takes it, well, personally.

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~8.0k

Undone

Mingyu's the CEO of his company, he can't be late. But, then again, maybe he can when his goddess of a girlfriend is tempting him like this.

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~2.3k

Interlude No. 4

Twice, Mingyu has tried to go home and the third time, he actually makes it out of the door. So why has he come back?

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~2.7k

Kinktober Day 16 - Daddy kink with Mingyu

Rating: M (18+) | WC: 746

Kinktober Day 25 - Double Penetration with MinWon

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~1.1k

Chubby!Reader Headcanons

Soft!Mingyu Headcanons

Werewolf!Mingyu Headcanons

Knotting/Pregnancy Headcanons

Seventeen Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[servicpop]

AUGH THE COWBOY FIC WAS SO FUCKING CUTE FHSHJSBUSKFDSKUS I LOVE IT SO MUCH!!!!!!! OUUUUUU

I ALREADY HAVE ANOTHER IDEA FOR THEM!!!! so the reader eventually has to get to the next town for a week or two for a series of shows, reader tells Cole where he’ll be and where he’ll preform so Cole can send him a letter if he’d like. Cole obviously send a him letters and reader writes back every time. But one day Cole doesn’t send reader a response and this makes him think Cole lost interest for some reason, so readers moping around and complaining about it to other show girls until Cole shows up at the place their preforming. Reader spots Cole in the crowd and gets excited immediately and the rest of the show he has a wide smile up until he can go out and talk to Cole who has flowers for the reader!!!

THIS CAN END FLUFFY OR SMUTTY OR BOTH IDC I JUST LOVE THESE TWO SO MUCH YOU DONT GET IT IM CRAZY RAH :3

-🎱

✶ ﹑ㅤletters & flowersㅤ��

NOW STARRING : Cole the cowboy x 'showgirl' m!reader

「ㅤSFW & NSFWㅤ」ㅤhalf is sfw and half is nsfw (the nsfw part will be separated and labelled as nsfw!)

✙ NSFW warnings — sub!top cole, dom!bottom/power bottom reader, cole is a virgin, riding, tummy bulge, cole is more vocal than reader, first time

notes ,, go to part one if you haven't read it already! Not proofread !!

You were able to extend your stay at Pinecrest just for a little while, and during your time here you were able to meet so many people and learn so many things about agriculture, farming, taking care of animals, and you even got to meet the local dog, Scout. More importantly, you were able to spend more time with Cole. He took you out almost every night to go sightseeing, taking you to his favourite spots whether it was in the mountains or by the lake. He even taught you how to ride your own horse and named her Taffy after you; since you were so sweet.

Nothing could've replaced those star-filled nights where it was just you and Cole with your horses, Taffy and Spirit, enjoying the cool breeze and endless conversations that seemed to meander. However, you were a busy man, especially while being in the entertainment industry you didn't have time to stick around forever. You could feel your heart sink just a little bit when your manager had announced that another show would be held in the next town for a few weeks. Of course you enjoyed your line of work, you loved performing, loved being on stage and hearing the cheers of others, but you also loved Cole's company. You knew that Cole had a role here at Pinecrest and it would've been selfish of you to ask him to come with you. But, it wasn't like you were going to keep this whole ordeal a secret from him.

"Cole?" Your voice seemed to break the silence; his head turned to look at you, "Yeah?" Cole's voice was warm, and gentle with a hint of ruggedness like honey dripping over gravel, and the way his eyes glittered when they met yours was enough to make your legs weak under the eye contact, causing you to splutter when you decided to speak again. "I– I have to leave tomorrow, I got another show I need to do at the next town," You mumble, shying away from his entrancing gaze. The cogs in his rusty little brain were visibly turning as Cole stared at you blankly with his lips parted like he was trying to comprehend your words. You can tell it finally settled in his mind when his face deflated like a sad puppy, "You're leavin' sugar?" His voice wavers as he stared at you; the fingers that were once tracing the rim of his glass paused, and the bartender took this moment of Cole's sad expression as a cue to refill his cup with root beer.

Oh, you couldn't do this to him. It was almost like kicking an abandoned puppy on the side of the road — totally cruel. You proposed the idea of sending letters and his sad puppy expression lifted just a little. Fishing in your bag you pulled out a flyer of your next show, sliding it across the counter so he could keep a copy for himself, "Here, send them to this address," you tapped the words in bold that say where you were performing. Cole — of course — takes the flyer eagerly, scanning over it to mentally note down the information written on it, "I'll definitely be sendin' you letters honey," Cole smiled with his dimples peeking through. He picked up his glass of beer and placed it between his lips to take a swig before he started blabbering about whatever came to his mind, a common habit of Cole, and you were always keen to listen to his rambles. You could listen to his voice all night long.

Unfortunately, Cole's most dreaded day came when you had to leave for the next town. He most definitely was one of the first people to wake up at the crack of dawn to catch you before you left, pressing a light, lingering kiss on the back of your palm as if you were a prince and he was nothing but a humble knight. After the townspeople waved you off, you and your fellow performers left via the vans. It was approximately a four hour ride, it would've been quicker if you took the train but your manager insisted to go by car for the scenery. You felt yourself missing Cole more than ever, more than anyone else that you've met and being in multiple towns and countries, you've met alot of people.

Your show was held over four days with a one day break in between and a few free days to explore the area — a total of one week and 3 days. As promised, after settling down in the new town, you received letters every morning from Cole. They usually contained heartfelt messages about his day, his animals, what he ate for every meal, some local gossip, and of course expressing how much he missed you. He even signed every letter with small doodles of what you assumed to be him and Scout. Sometimes, he'd even attach small poloroids of himself usually with Taffy and Spirit in the back. Every night when you had time to spare you scavenged your hotel room for a spare piece of paper and a pen, writing back a response with your signature and some doodles that were definitely not as good as Cole's. It's corny, but you kissed the envelop after sealing it before sending it off back to him.

One day after your 2nd show, you stopped receiving letters, and it really messed up your mood. Did Cole lose interest? Had he found someone better than you? Was it because you were away? All these thoughts ran through your mind and you found yourself slumped at the vanity, complaining and whining to the other showgirls on how you felt like he didn't like you anymore. Knowing how supportive the girls are, they always attempted to comfort you, patting your back and reassuring you that he might’ve just not had any time to write back, that he was busy tending the cattle and whatnot. But no matter what they said, that feeling if a pit in your stomach lingered for the 3rd show. Your aura wasn't the same, your energy wasn't the same, you couldn't perform as well as you did the first two shows.

But suddenly, you felt a strange, familiar pair of eyes staring at you from the crowd. Mid dance, your eyes scanned the sea of people and caught on that dear smile that seemed to light up even the darkest of nights. Cole. That stupidly charming cowboy was nestled in between the bodies of others looking at you. Just you with those eyes filled with admiration. Your heart skipped a beat — or multiple — and you felt your lips involuntarily curl up into a smile.

"That's it. That's the smile I love."

With a new-found burst of energy, your limbs no longer felt sluggish and that fake smile was replaced with a genuine one. All of the sudden, the spotlight seemed to focus on you, highlighting the sequins that glittered on your costume and your bright smile. The other showgirls seemed to notice your change in mood and they all shot you small smiles, watching at how your hips swayed with the beat of the music and how your dance lightened up the atmosphere. You couldn't wait to see him.

Once the performance ended and you and the other performers bowed, you immediately ran out into the crowd, searching frantically for Cole but no matter how hard you looked and pushed through the people, you couldn't find Cole. Your feet picked up in speed as you ran outside, looking around to find Cole leaning against a streetlight with a bouquet in his hands. "Hey," You huffed, catching your breath from all that running around. "You were— amazing, sweetheart," Cole smiled, extending his arm out for you to take the bouquet of dasies, "U–uhm, the daises are hand picked if— if you were wonderin'." From the way he was stuttering over his words like a highschool boy confessing to his crush, and how his eyes focused on anything but your face, you could tell he's never given flowers to anyone in such a romantic way. They were beautiful, all thoughtfully placed together to make the bouquet aesthetically pleasing with a white ribbon tied around the stems with a small bow. You took the bouquet before wrapping your arms around Cole in a warm embrace. He didn't expect you to hug him so abruptly but he for sure did not complain, taking only a second to return the hug, wrapping his arms around you protectively. "I've never seen you smile so wide before darlin,' were you excited to see me?" Cole chuckled, keeping your face pressed against his cheek as he tangled his fingers through your hair. A small laugh escaped your lips too as you teased back, "Don't get ahead of yourself now."

After catching up a bit on the way back to your hotel, you found out through Cole that one of his cows gave birth to an adorable baby he named 'Choco' from its brown coloured fur. He really did have a quirk in naming animals. Once back, he helped you find a vase for your daisies, filling it up with water before carefully plopping your flowers in them. You flopped onto the bed, bouncing slightly from how plush the mattress was, and Cole followed shortly, laying right beside you. As you laid on the bed with your eyes staring up at the white ceiling, you felt a hand tangle with yours, turning your head to meet Cole's grin and his hands holding yours tightly. "Thanks for coming tonight," You were more than happy that he actually took the time out of his day to come all the way here to watch you perform again, "You know I'd do anythin' for you sugar," He cooed, squishing your cheeks between his fingers before he brought your face to his, giving you a small peck on the lips. You always loved how soft and gentle Cole's lips felt agaisnt yours, and they always had a faint taste of strawberries on them.

"That's too corny,"

"You want corn? We can go to the corn fields sometime if that's what you want"

And that earnt a pillow straight to his face.

One kiss turned into two, maybe three, with you leaning over Cole's body while he was still laying down. His arm snaked over to hook around your waist, pulling you closer to him and tangling his legs with yours. As he presses his body agaisnt yours, you felt him poke at your thigh. He was excited, something that you didn't expect from sweet little Cole. He seemed to notice and it was evident through the blush that creeped up his neck, "S–sorry... it's instinct y'know?" His words stumble over eachother and he brings a hand to his face, hiding behind the comfort of his palms as embarrassment ate away at him. It was adorable! This guy being such a flustered mess just from a few kisses and you haven't even done anything that intimate yet.

You reassure him, obviously; you tell him that it's natural and that it's okay to react this way. But then it strikes you. He seemed so inexperienced, so shy about everything. Was Cole a virgin? "I've never done anythin' like this before... I've never felt this way about someone else," His usually loud and confident voice was now reduced to a soft, nervous whisper. He shuffled slightly, pulling you up and onto his lap, his eyes glittered with nervousness and excitement, "D'you think you could show me a thing or two?" Damn. The way he's looking at you with pure love and sincerity made your blood pump faster from how quick your heart was beating. You've been dying for this too, so why not?

You helped him undress before following shortly after, discarding your clothes somewhere in the hotel. He was surprisingly big— like really big. His pretty pink tip was already glistening with pre-cum from the previous kisses and he had a prominent vein that ran down the underside of his cock that was bound to be a sensitive spot for him. Cole was also more built than you expected, he had toned muscles that were most defined in his arms and he had pretty big pecs. They were like pillows, you'd have to convince him to let you sleep on them later. Cole refused to look you in the eyes while you rummaged the beside drawers for lube. You put a generous amount on your palm before placing the bottle down and turning to face Cole, who was trembling like a little mouse.

"Relax," you cooed, wrapping your lubed up hand around his shaft, pumping slowly to coat him. His body physically jerked once he felt the cool substance around his cock, and a low whine slipped from his lips. Cole's breathing became more heavy as you slowly stroked his length, his eyes fluttered with every movement. Once you deemed that to be enough, you slowly moved to hover over his lap and Cole's hands immediately went up to grip your hips for stability. You knew this would hurt; you weren't properly prepared but you didn't care that much. Slowly, you sunk down on Cole's cock, feeling the slight burn as you bit back small whimpers. "You okay sugar? 'Mnot hurtin' you am I?" Cole grunted, his fingers gripping your hips even more, guiding you down his length. He was concerned, yes, but he also couldn't help from twitching inside you.

"I'm fine," you replied with a small huff once you were able to take Cole in fully, relaxing a bit so you could get used to his size. Cole on the other hand was certainly not relaxing. You could almost see the muscles on his arm tense and he had this unfamiliar look in his eyes like he was desperate for something, any sort of movement from you. After awhile of just silence and stillness, Cole's resolve finally caved in, "Oh, please sweetheart, please move. Anythin'! I need to feel you, please," he whined like a little puppy, staring into your eyes as if he was going to die if you didn't give him any sort of relief. But that wasn't any fun now was it?

You leaned down, your hips rolling slightly in accord to your movements, and pressed a honeyed kiss on the outer corner of Cole's lips. That little movement with your hips almost made Cole cum on the spot. "You can't do that t'me," Cole's eyes gleamed over with tears, dampening his eyelashes. All wet and pretty. He swore he'd actually start crying if you didn't move. "Alright, alright, sorry," you apologised but didn't really mean it — he was so adorable begging you just to move. But, you weren't that cruel. A string of 'thank you's poured out of Cole's mouth as you rocked your hips rhymically, grinding down on his cock. His head tilted back against the silk pillows, his brown hair cascading across the pillowcase like flowing water. Cole's lips were slightly parted, and his chest rose and fell intermittently, some breaths short and stuttered, while others were deeper.

"It feels so good," Cole muttered out between pants. His voice was nothing short of a whiny mess mixed with a few moans and grunts. You lifted yourself off of him, almost lifting completely off of him before dropping your hips back down, earning a muffled whimper from you and a loud moan from Cole. He was undoubtedly alot more vocal in expressing his pleasure. His eyes opened with heavy eyelids, as he looked up at you; you could practically see the hearts in his eyes. Cole's gaze flickered down to your tummy and his mind went blank when he saw the small bulge in your stomach, "Oh mercy," he breathed out, his hand moved to touch your stomach, "You're gonna be the death of me if you keep— hah, keep teasin' me like this."

Your mind was just as lost as Cole's with the way his dick was able to reach your prostate so easily. It drove you crazy; his cock angled perfectly to hit it over and over again with each bounce. Your own neglected cock was sliding along Cole's happy trail, the warmth of his body made you twitch everytime you grinded your hips. "I'm— im close, so so so close, please— please let me cum." Beads of sweat rolled down Cole's temples and his forearms flexed, digging his fingertips into your hips hard enough to leave an indent — he was careful not to use his nails, Cole would never want to hurt you. "Im—" Cole sat up from his laying position, enveloping you in his arms and buried his face in the crook of your neck, needing something to hold onto while he orgasmed. His moans were muffled by your neck as his thigh spasmed faintly while he spilt his seed inside of you, filling you up to the brim. Your own orgasm followed after his, coating his abs with your fluid.

You two sat in the comfort of eachothers arms and the sound of your heavy breathing; your own arms were lazily draped over his shoulders with one hand stroking his hair. "When's your next show?" Cole asked, moving his head off your shoulder to look at you, "The day after tomorrow, but I have rehearsal tomorrow morning," a small pout spreads across Cole's lips as his eyes flicker to loon at your thigh instead. "Do you think you can walk properly tomorrow?" "Oh right..."

Bonus ♡

You winced as you settled down into the chair infront of the vanity. A few of the showgirls walked up to you, noticing that something was off, "You okay honey bun? You seem to be in alot of pain today," one of the girls ask, placing a comforting hand on your back. "He obviously got some action last night with that cowboy guy." "No I did not!" "It's obvious in the way you're limping sweetie."

Cole on the other hand, was still soundly asleep in your hotel bed, curled up with the blanket he stole from you during the night.

a/n ,, Cole oh sweet Cole . To be honest ,, I'm still not used to writing smut . I guess it's because I'm trying my hardest not to make it sound off or weird ,, maybe I'm just immature . The word cock sounds funny to me . Anyways !! I kinda rushed the smut . To be fair my main focus with Cole is how he's an innocent n' sweet guy but ya know ,, nsfw is what gets people going these days

[macfrog]

the sweetest con cowboy like me chapter fifteen

well. this is it. we made it, kids. thank you so, so much for reading for all this time. for all your patience, and kindness, and loyalty. i will carry this pair, their story, and all of your love for them with me forever. love you guys. xx

pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!reader

summary: every cowboy deserves his ride off into the sunset.

warnings: age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), lotsa guilt from reader, dreamy love sequence & mention of unprotected piv/creampie, more greys anatomy spoilers, reader's dad is either Bald or has a Receding Hairline (you choose), more sex - this time reader and joel sixty-nine, face sitting, oral (f and m receiving), more (inferred) unprotected piv, making dirty, hot love ALLAT, cursing, a little smut n a lotta fluff n a droplet of angst at the end

word count: 10.8k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🧡

“How the fuck did this take you three minutes? Three?”

“I’m telling you. I’m a genius.”

You snort. “Shut up. You only passed Math ‘cause you were fooling around with that nerd – Thomas? Was it Thomas?”

“Timothy. And you don’t need math to do a sudoku puzzle, loser. You just need brains. Logic.” Anna taps two fingers against her temple, tilting her head.

“Logic,” you murmur, shaking your head.

Sal’s is quiet today. He’s out of town for his father-in-law’s funeral and made the genius decision to leave the two of you in charge. Since opening at nine, you’ve had four customers. The to-do list left for you was completed by ten, and since then, you’ve been hunched over your phone at the cash register, messing around on some puzzle app Anna made you download.

It's a Wednesday. Nothing exciting ever happens on Wednesdays.

Anna’s behind you, tearing apart and flattening the cardboard boxes you spent all morning emptying. “That level,” she clicks her chewing gum wetly between her teeth, scent of mint over your shoulder, “that ain’t even the hardest one. Ooh, no, babe. Three goes –”

“Shh!” You bat her arm away, curving your hand over your phone screen. She snorts and wanders off through the back, wad of cardboard under her arm.

Anna wasn’t your closest friend in high school, and you sure didn’t stay much in touch past the odd Facebook post update when you left. But working with her, and her dad being your dad’s buddy – she’s sort of become one of those people you just can’t shake.

Like a stray puppy. Or…an annoying hangnail.

She’s nice enough – talks a lot of crap sometimes, but she cares for you. You’d go as far as saying you two have grown pretty close since you came home. Still, the acidic sting of resentment sits on your tongue, anytime you think of her involvement in the unravelling of your little lie. Think of your dad calling hers, Hank asking her where you were.

Think of the fact that, if she hadn’t been honest with him – I don’t know where she is, Dad – nothing would’ve gone wrong.

That’s not fair. If you’d never touched Joel in the first place, nothing would’ve gone wrong.

It’s just – she had a hand in pushing the first domino.

The bell above the door jingles and you lift your eyes from tiny numbers and blank squares to meet a familiar pair of hazel. An Alanis Morissette T-shirt under a denim jacket. She tucks her thick, soft hair behind her ears and smiles, then skips around the counter and links her hands at your tummy; her ear flat against the nape of your neck.

“Why so clingy?” you ask, and Sarah straightens up.

“Just excited to spend some time with my favorite person. That allowed?”

Your eyes scan her up and down as she leans against the counter, stealing a gummy from a jar beside the register. “Been staying with you for nearly three weeks now, you ain’t sick of me yet?”

She shakes her head, jaw chewing, cheeks swollen with a grin. “Are you done yet? I wanna make sure we get good seats.”

“We will,” you assure her. “It’s only, like, three p.m.”

“But it’s Barbie,” she says, “and I wanna get some snacks before we head in.” She holds the decapitated gummy worm up, eyebrows high, before pulling it between her teeth until it snaps. She drags the withered red tail over her tongue.

“That thing you just mauled,” you gesture to the masticated shape in her fingers, “candy. Snacks. Just take some of that.”

“You won’t even buy your date movie theater candy? Damn. Mom’s a cheapskate. Wish I could say my dad’s a lucky guy.”

You shove her off, disguising your laugh with a shake of your head. “You are on thin ice, I’m not even kidding.”

Sarah’s laughing, reaching for another worm. “You know what that sounds like?”

“Hm?”

“What you just said.”

“What’s it sound like, Sarah Miller?”

“Something a mom would say.”

“Alright,” you stand, “get out. Get outta my store.”

The door opens when you point to it, Texan heat sweeping in to swarm the one rickety fan you have in here. The brass bell trembles, and beneath it, a man in a tucked shirt and jeans, glum face and tired eyes.

You blink at him and he blinks back, and no words are spoken between you, but your dad understands to move, to keep walking – and you understand to let him.

“Shoot,” Sarah whispers, twisting her gummy around her finger. “That was awkward.”

Three weeks of staying with them – Sarah and Joel – also means three weeks of zero contact with your dad. The most you’ve heard from – or, rather, about him is that, last week, Joel bumped into Hank at the gas station, and the old man mentioned that he and your dad had grabbed a beer the night before.

What’d he say? you asked Joel, dragging a dish towel around the rim of a glass.

He shrugged, flicking his hands dry over the sink. Said the Rangers aren’t doin’ too good. I said, Yeah, that’s cause a’ –

No, Joel. What did he say about me ‘n my dad?

He waited a second to let the offense of your interruption soak in. Took the towel from your hand, replaced the glass on the draining board. Nothing, he said, I don’t think he knows.

It sat with you the entire night. The three of you watched a movie, occupying either side of Joel’s couch, though you’re sure you don’t remember a word of it. The image of him sat center-stage in your mind until you pulled yourself against Joel’s body in bed that night. Sat in his recliner, flicking through TV channels, the only sounds in the house that of Ice Road Truckers, the ticking of the kitchen clock, and his own fucking breathing.

Alone. Not even Hank to talk to about – well.

You’ve done your best not to think about him. And it works, most days, when you’re with Joel. Helps to go do stuff: ride shotgun while he picks up supplies for work or grabs groceries. Helps to play pretend like his house is yours, too. Tidying when he’s not home, lighting candles and sinking into a bubble bath for him to find you in when he finishes. Helps to be at Sal’s, with Anna. Sudoku and her fucking Tinder account to keep you both occupied.

Most days, you forget to consider the lonely shape of your dad at all – but that seems to hurt all the more. Like forgetting to tend to an open wound; instead, letting the infection blister and bubble so that, when you do bump it again, the pain feels sharper. Hissing at you, poison seeping from flesh.

His showing up, waltzing straight into the store – feels less like a bump, and more like a pair of hands diving straight into the gash, tearing it wide open again. Blood and poison gushing all over the checkered floor.

Anna materializes between two aisles, hands on her hips when she stands behind you. “Y’all still not really talkin’?” she asks.

You and Sarah shake your heads. The three of you watch the shape of your dad’s skull over the shelves, bobbing from bay to bay. Door hinges to fence paint. He painted the fence last summer. He doesn’t need fucking fence paint.

“Nope,” you reply. “’s been, what, two and a half weeks now?”

“Yeah,” Anna mutters, the slope of sympathy in her voice. “My dad’s been talkin’ to him about it. They’ve spoken, like, almost every night on the phone.”

“Oh, fuck,” you hiss, head falling into your hands. “Are you serious?”

“Not about you and Joel. Just about the fight.”

Your jaw slowly slackens, eyes thinning as your gaze slides over to your friend, a saddened expression on her face.

Sarah nods, like an accessory sat on the dash of a car. Bobbing bobbing bobbing, until her brows drop and she turns to you, finally realizing. “Wait, what?”

Anna blinks between the two of you. “What?” she asks, lips pressing together.

“You know?” Sarah asks, glaring at her.

Anna snorts. Neither of you break. She quickly quietens and clears her throat, bending to stuff more cardboard under her arm. “Well…” She sucks in a deep breath. “At rodeo night, when you left your phone on the table, me ‘n Kara wanted to leave a bunch of selfies for you to find later. But when I went to grab your phone, you had a text from him. Joel. Something about someone winning you over like he did, or something. I can’t remember. But that was the first thing.”

Sarah’s face sours at the mention of her dad’s flirty text, scoffing as she swipes another gummy from the jar. “Real fuckin’ subtle, Dad,” she murmurs.

You sharpen your gaze at Anna, blurring the brown curls and low brows from your peripheral. “Uhuh…?”

“Then, there was the lying to your dad about where you were. That Monday – you said you were at mine. You weren’t. Your dad called my dad to ask, ‘n my dad asked me why the hell you’d lie. I figured, What a weird coincidence, right?”

You slip off your stool, legs feeling more liquid than bone. “Oh, Jesus…”

“But then…then, I saw how you were when he called on the way to Frank’s. In the car. You were…fucking weird. And then Joel punched that dude – that basically confirmed it. I don’t think either of your dads would do that for me. It felt…it felt personal. He took your hand ‘n dragged you outta there, and it felt like…somethin’ else.”

You’re leaning against the counter, head in your hands. Struggling to even listen to her piece it all together. Were you this fucking obvious, the whole time?

Anna answers for you. “Yeah,” she says, nodding, “I didn’t catch two fucking boyfriends cheating on me, and not pick up some detective skills, babe.”

You stand straight, composure slowly building over shame. “And your dad doesn’t know? My –” you flick your head across the store, lowering your voice, “– my dad hasn’t told him?”

A laugh spurts from somewhere deep in her chest. “Hell, no. Are you tryna give him a second heart attack? No. He just thinks you were somewhere you didn’t want your dad to know – a boy’s or something. Which – well, I guess you were.”

You nod, half-appreciation, half-resignation. Alright. Now shut up about it, would you?

“But listen,” Anna says, apparently not as good at mindreading as she is at secret-revealing, “y’all gotta work on being sneaky. You’re, like, really bad at it.”

“Yeah,” you sniff, “thanks, Anna.”

You grip the edge of the counter and try to draw your eye away from your dad; a little angry that he’s here, and yet, a little more thankful that you’ve had at least a tiny glimpse of him. Desperate for him to come over, to acknowledge your mutual existence in the same room, and yet – petrified that he does.

He keeps his back to you, though you notice him turning every so often, looking at you from his peripheral. Nope – your black shirt and blue jeans are still behind the counter. He turns back to the shelf.

“Hi, sweetie.” A woman in a pink blouse approaches the counter. She lays down a couple pairs of plyers and you ring her up, asking if she found everything okay. Choking a little when you inhale the scent of her perfume.

“Beautiful day for you to be in here workin’, huh?” Her rosy cheeks fill as she hands you the cash.

Oh, yeah. It’s a beautiful day to be stuck selling plyers to pink women in pink blouses smelling of pink perfume, while my dad – still reeling from the revelation that I’ve been sleeping with his best friend, by the way – pretends to peruse the store.

“I’m almost done,” you reply, blunt enough to deflate her expression only a little, sliding the paper bag stamped Sal’s back across the counter.

She nods in thanks and slinks off, suffocating aroma following her. And like a magician, when she disappears off to the side, your dad stands in her wake. A few feet from you, keeping his distance, watching carefully before he dares to move. Waiting for your go-ahead.

When you lift your chin, beckoning him forward, Anna takes Sarah’s arm and yanks her away, shoving some shredded boxes into her arms. “You wanna help me?” she asks the nosy Miller, tossing something of an alarmed glance back at you and your dad.

There’s a funny feeling behind your eyes when he steps up, empty hand resting hesitantly on the counter. “She coverin’ up the smell of a dead body or som’?” he asks.

The air pushes from your lungs, a laugh barreling with it. Your hands clasp on the surface opposite his. A scorch of white heat at the nape of your neck. “Very vibrant, huh?”

“Very.” He clears his throat, shakes his head a little, and takes a deep breath. “I figured this might be as good a place as any to find you. I didn’t want you to think I was…cornering you, or anything, if I showed up at Joel’s.”

“I wouldn’t – I mean, maybe. But, y’know…this is fine.” Your arms cross defensively, the baggy material of Joel’s shirt wrapping snug around you.

Your dad seems to know. Evidence being that it’s you, in a shirt all too big – a shirt he’d likely see his best friend in, too. It forces your arms tighter, sucking in the scent of Joel to combat the dizzying feeling of nerves.

“I’m glad to see you’re alright,” he says eventually, fingers drumming awkwardly. “I just wanted to know you were fine.”

“I am fine. I promise. Just – working a lot.”

He nods, looking down to his feet. Twists the toe of his boot into the linoleum.

“I’m glad to see you’re alright, too,” you offer, the words fluid and spilling from one to the next – something forceful in their nature.

Your dad’s eyes lift at the same time that his cheeks do. Relief. “Thanks, kiddo. I actually – I was hopin’ that maybe we could talk. If you’re free. I don’t know what time you get off today.”

“I finish in ten minutes,” you say, and hope seems to paint across his face – washing away instantly when you add, “but I’m going to the movies with Sarah.”

He’s nodding again, eyes fixed back on his boots. “Right, right.”

“…But maybe once we’re done I can swing by?”

“Oh, well – I’m workin’ late again. I’ll be out by the time…Yeah. Sorry, hon.”

“That’s okay.”

“Late one again tonight.”

“This, uh – what’s his name again? Kel–?”

“Kelman, yeah. Yeah. How ‘bout I call you tomorrow ‘n we can work somethin’ out? You and Sarah, you enjoy your night.”

You lean back from the counter, slowly more confident in your ability to hold yourself upright. “Yeah. Okay. Thanks, Dad.”

His lips press together in a flat attempt at a smile. “I’ll leave you to it. You mind if I…give you a hug?”

And then you’re the one awkwardly, forcedly smiling. Your teeth gritting behind taut lips. “Not at all,” you whisper, and wander carefully around the counter to where he stands.

He opens his arms and pulls you against his chest, your head tilting to rest your ear on his shoulder. You hook your arms under his, feeling his wrists crossing at your spine. Like two statues, two figures of stone fixing their crumbling bodies in an embrace, suddenly disjointed and ill-fitting. Your heart hurts beneath layers of rock, swelling in attempt to reach for his, shrinking back crestfallen when he feels too far.

He kisses the side of your head, pulls away, and taps your cheek once. “You know,” he says, letting you withdraw from his grasp, “I really miss you.”

You nod. “Miss you, too.”

“Let’s talk soon, alright?”

“Yeah.”

And then he’s leaving, drifting back out into the summer sun, rock disintegrating as the light catches him again. More human, less monster-under-your-bed. He’s just your dad again, just that swaying, bumbling man who used to sprinkle rainbow flakes over your ice cream and double-knot your laces.

The shadows of Sarah and Anna appear at your elbows, the three of you watching your dad sink into his car. You still feel made of rock, splitting somewhere down the middle as you stare at his figure.

“Well?” Sarah asks.

He turns right out of the parking lot, disappears behind a hedgerow.

“Yeah,” you reply, turning in a daze. “We’re gonna…gonna talk.”

“That’s good, right? That sounds…promising.”

You shrug. “I guess.”

Sarah places a gentle hand on your arm, drawing your attention to her kind eyes and infectious smile. “We should probably get goin’,” she says, and you agree.

“What movie are you seeing?” Anna asks, filling your spot behind the counter as you turn, making for the back of the store.

“Barbie,” Sarah tells her.

“Nice. She paying?”

“Obviously. Mom duties.”

You kick the door closed on their giggles.

Two days pass without a word from your dad. No text, no call, no visit to Sal’s when you’re on shift the following day. By Monday, you’ve convinced yourself that the entire thing was a dream, a hallucination conjured up by your imagination in attempt to rid you of some of the guilt still chewing at your heart. Bat it out of your brain, like swatting the rear end of a wild animal let loose indoors.

Guilt which is only remedied, only soothed by Joel. By the feeling which overcomes your chest when you look at him – lungs faltering, heart leaping. The peace of falling asleep in his safe embrace, the heat from his body enough to keep you comfortable all night, and then waking up tangled in his sheets – the smell of bacon and eggs twirling through the house, the distant sound of his humming drawing you downstairs to his side.

Late nights on the porch, watching the sun bleed heavily into the sky. Your ankles in his lap, a guitar over his thigh. Thumb gentle on the strings, soft timbre of song lulling you to some place far from reality: the same rosy, dreamlike state you’ve mostly occupied since he dragged you through his front door, kicked your shoes and all of your worries to the side, and made you forget that anything bad had ever happened.

The most comfortable you’ve ever felt in your life, the most loved – a world where your every word is heard and weighed, rolling around Joel’s palms and slotting carefully into his back pocket. A world where his lips on your neck as you make dinner, where the crook of his arm catching you as you pass by, is all normal. Where I love you and I love you, too become the last words your sleepy ears hear at night, right before you sink into a shared sleep.

All of it becoming as natural as the pale moon switching for her golden sister at dawn. As instinctive as breathing.

“Have you ever made love to anyone?” you ask him one night, the aftershock of an orgasm still soaking into your skin.

Joel pauses, hips slowing between yours. “Yeah,” after a couple beats, “sure.”

“What’s it feel like?” you ask, honestly. Combing his dark hair through your fingers. “I’ve never…No one’s ever…”

“Baby,” he says. “We’ve done it. I’ve done it to you.”

Your body tenses and then melts around him. One blink and suddenly the world softens, seems to bow into the background – the only sharp object Joel, the twinkle in his eye piercing through the haze like blinking white stars in thick, dark clouds.

You whisper, “Can you do it again? So I can feel what it’s like?”

He pushes himself up, one elbow planted by your ear, the other hand lifting your thigh. Hooking it over his waist, lowering his arm again to cage you under his body. He nudges your chin with his nose, lifting it to line your lips with his, hold every part of your body as close to his as he can.

Deeper, in every sense of the word. Slow, hard. Eyes on you the entire time, watching the way your face contorts and your jaw slackens, holding the shape of your head in his hands, swallowing his own moans and grunts to make space between you for yours.

“Look at me, baby, eyes on me,” he says, and by instinct, your eyes roll forward, focusing or half-focusing on the slick hair at his forehead, the red flush climbing his neck, seeping into the skin under his beard. “You feel it? Feel where I’m goin’?”

And yeah, you whine, you do feel it. Feel him dragging you further away from this world and into the next – somewhere a plain away, somewhere new and different to anything you’ve ever known before. Where physicality is a language, a fluid conversation between the melding of his body and yours; where there are a million words swirling around his pupils, hypnotizing and entrancing and drawing you in until you’re tumbling headfirst into the inky pools.

Where I love you sounds like the groan Joel can’t hold back, feels like the pulsing flood as he snaps between your legs. Where making love is as simple as the squeeze of his hand around yours; the shove of his plate over the kitchen table, offering you the last bite of grilled cheese or simply admitting that it was yours before he’d even taken the first. That addictive laugh of his when you stall the fucking truck for the fifth time: You asked me to teach you, baby, I’m tryna teach you. Foot on the gas, c’mon. You got it. That’s it – now, slow. Slower. Try to feel it. No, really feel it.

Feel it. Really, try to feel it. Can you feel it? Do you know the difference yet? The difference between everyone who was before, and the one who is now? Do you finally get it?

“I feel it,” you cry out, and his frame holds yours together as you fall apart.

It feels like – you.

How did I ever know anything before I knew you?

“That one’s nice,” Joel says, his voice jumping the short distance between his lips and your ear.

You tilt your head, body moving with his when he lifts his hand to swipe through some more of the images. The spacious living room, newly refurbed kitchen, the view of downtown Los Angeles.

He adjusts the blanket draped over your legs. “Washer dryer, walk-in closet,” and then, leaning in closer, whispers, “a balcony. That’s cool.”

“Hm,” you turn to face him, your body shelled by his in the corner of his couch, “I bet you like the balcony, cowboy.”

He smiles plainly in response, squeezing your nose between two knuckles. Yeah. Lots you can do with a balcony.

A sharp gasp from across the room pierces the sweet moment. You and Joel turn in its direction, its owner wide-eyed and blinking at the TV.

“Wait a second,” Sarah yelps. “George is the John Doe?” She gasps again when Meredith announces the same news to her friends onscreen. “Shut – the fuck – up!”

“Language,” Joel clips, chest rumbling between your shoulder blades.

“Oh, like you didn’t have the exact same reaction. George is the…Oh, that sucks. Are you kidding me?” She fishes her phone from the waves of blanket surrounding her, thumbs rapidly typing, eyes shooting from screen to screen.

You snort, turning back to your own phone in your hand, when a text appears at the top of the screen.

Dad: Hey kiddo. Sorry to keep you waiting, work been hectic. Off the rest of today if you’re free to come over.

Your thumb latches onto the message, holding it for Joel to read, too, before letting it disappear off into your notifications.

He tightens his hold on you, burying his nose into the cotton of his own hoodie over your shoulders. His breath pushes heavy and thoughtful across the material. “Still seems as calm as the other day.”

“Too calm,” you admit, “it’s freaking me out.”

“What can he do, you know? You’re here, he’s there. Your dad ain’t an idiot, baby. He knows stayin’ angry about it’s only gonna push you further away.”

“Sure made ‘im feel like an idiot…”

Joel catches the comment and pockets it before it gathers enough weight to bruise. “Well,” he clears his throat, “it’s up to you. I ain’t letting you do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“Mhm,” you reply, and wait for more words to fall to your tongue. An answer, a response. A decision that you know you don’t feel equipped or even rightful to make.

“Do you want to go talk to him?” Joel asks.

“I…I want to make things right. I wanna fix it.”

“Okay. And will talking to him do that?”

You turn to face him, frowning. “I don’t fucking know,” you mutter. “Will it?”

He smiles sympathetically. “Wish I knew, darlin’. Would it help if I came? Sat outside in the truck, waited for you? It gets too much, you decide you wanna leave – we leave.”

“You ain’t scared to be near him again?”

He gulps back a laugh, Adam’s apple bobbing awkwardly before he allows himself to answer. “Only thing scary about your dad is the sunlight reflectin’ off his damn head. No, I ain’t scared.”

You study him a minute longer, eyes roaming from the lips you could sketch every score of from memory, the beard you’re sure has forever altered your prints from the number of times you’ve run your fingers over the bristles. The eyes which know every secret, every whisper, every thought behind your own.

You sigh, smiling dumbly as he wraps his arms tighter around you. “Fine. Let’s go.”

Joel pulls up by the curb, parking politely at the end of your driveway rather than alongside your dad’s car, like he usually would. Like he used to.

You crane your head, looking past the shape of him to survey the unassuming house. Quiet, still. No sign of hurricane or earthquake, no tremors of rage or words like rocks raining down on the truck roof. Your thumb plunges into the buckle of your seatbelt, the webbing whipping over your shoulder.

“Sure you’re okay?” Joel asks, watching your fingers lift to the door handle.

“Mhm,” you reply, distant. “’s just my dad, right? What’s the worst that could happen?”

His eyebrows lift, agreeing. He takes your hand in his and holds it to his lips. “Whatever it is,” he mumbles into your fingers, “if it happens, you come straight back out here, you hear? I ain’t moving.”

The urge to stay exactly where you are and let him carry you off back to his place overwhelms you for a brief second. To stay in the safety of the truck cabin, stay within touching distance of Joel. And as quickly as it’s there, it’s gone. Overcome by the memory of that stony hug in Sal’s, the vacant, lonely eyes boring into late-night TV.

A sharp chap over your shoulder shocks you back to life. You twist in your seat, looking down at a face wrinkled by curiosity and wisdom, sheen of lipstick curved in a mischievous grin. You roll the window down, mirroring her smile.

“Joel Miller,” Rita calls, lowering her ring-adorned fist and pointing over to her car. “Help me with these groceries.”

“Afternoon to you, too, Rita,” he calls back, and she raises two thin, penciled eyebrows. His sigh trickles into a chuckle as he snaps the door open, leaning into you. “I ain’t moving,” he mutters, swinging out of the truck.

“Sure looks like you’re movin’,” you call back, letting Rita pull on your door to let you out.

“How are you, darlin’?” she asks. “Haven’t seen you around in a while.”

You hop down beside her, helping her tug the shawl around her arms back over her shoulders. “Yeah, I’ve, uh…I’ve been busy.”

She nods, and then her eyes drift to somewhere behind you. “They go in the kitchen, son.” She points to her house. “I’ll come help you unpack ‘em.”

Joel’s face twists, eyes wide, hands outstretched. You swallow back a laugh when he looks to you, an almost teenage expression which asks, You seein’ this? as he turns back to the Nissan.

“I better go,” Rita says then, giving your arms one last squeeze. “You take care, now. Tell your dad I’m askin’ after ‘im.”

“I will, Rita.” You turn on your heel and saunter around Joel’s truck, giving him one last twirl as he hoists two bags under his muscled arms, rolling his eyes as you spin.

You pull the weight of yourself up your drive, passing past versions of yourself as you near the front door. She’s stumbling towards her dad’s car, a bucket of soapy water sloshing around between her knees. She’s sat on the curb, waiting for Joel’s truck to roll up, praying she never hears another Marty Robbins song again.

She’s naïve, still. Knows no better, knows no worse. Chasing a high, chasing the thrill of being caught and the thrill of nobody ever knowing. A relationship built entirely on lies and deceit. A love woven with dark threads of shame and anger, a tattered mess in one corner where the edges fray and loosen.

And you think: you’ve never felt more jealous of anybody your whole life.

The front door clicks open easily, like the building welcomes you home with a relieved sigh. You follow sunlight into the hallway, feeling it easier to walk through than before – less dense, less suffocating. Less guilty. An honest thief, back to return the bleeding heart she dragged out the door with her.

Secrets like shards of broken glass on the floor, debris from that day. And as if he hears the crunch of your footsteps, your dad appears at the bottom of the hall.

“Hi, hon.”

Eyes wide with a misplaced shock, you say, “Hey.”

“You okay?”

“’m good.”

“Good. Come in, come through.” He beckons you forward, a smile only half-forced on his lips. “You want a drink or anything?”

You follow him into the kitchen, politely accepting a glass of water when he offers it.

He turns with two steady palms on the island, watching as you drag a chair free and sit at the table. “How’s Joel?” he asks, swallowing roughly.

The words come delayed, your open mouth lying in wait. Your body selfishly trying to hoard the information, protective the second the image of that six-foot, two-hundred-pound man crosses your mind. “He’s fine. He’s out front.”

It sounds like a warning, though you don’t mean for it to. Just conversation. He’s helping Rita with her groceries. She’s asking after you, by the way. But your dad seems to sense the natural amber tone of it – the sparking of a flame, daring to catch. He’s waiting for this to go south.

He nods, accepting the fact of it. His own failed attempt to separate the two of you only drove you closer together. Only made you want Joel more.

But then he’s nearing you again, pulling out the chair opposite yours. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says, settling with a sigh. “Glad we’re…we’re talkin’ again, at least.”

Your head angles. “Are we?”

His body jerks, flinching from the sting of the question. “Well,” his head wobbles, jowls quivering, “I sure hope so. I was takin’ it as a good sign that you’re here.”

“I’m here,” you repeat, “but that doesn’t mean I’m staying.”

“No, I know. I know. Joel’s out front, ‘n all that.” He looks down at his hands, clasped in his lap. Holds his tongue behind his front teeth, waiting for the next turn of conversation.

You lean forward, elbows on the table, softening your voice. “Dad?” you say, and he looks up. “This whole entire thing – I think…I think we oughta try and understand each other, a little better. Hear each other out.”

“I am tryin’, hon. I’m really tryin’. You dealt me an awful lot to hear out ‘n understand.”

You rock back, sinking against the hard chair. Tracing the wood grains in the table, nails digging between. Shame coiling like a snake beneath your tongue, taking up too much space in your mouth. Its venom dripping between your teeth, acrid and sour; tendons in your neck jumping with the bitterness of your dad’s tone.

He sighs. “Be honest with me a second.”

“Huh?”

He waits a beat, watching you carefully. Opens his mouth, pauses, and then speaks. “Who instigated it?”

Your finger pushes harder into the surface. Digging new divots. “Um…kinda both of us. Was sort of a two-way thing from the get-go.”

His lips twist, almost imperceptible. He looks behind you to the patio outside. You can’t read what’s in his eyes. It makes you say more, say things you reckon you’ll regret later – but something to fill the silence between you. Something to let him sink his teeth into.

“There was flirting. Lotta flirting. And then it…it just sort of snowballed.”

“Snowballed.” He looks uncomfortable, lifting his hands to cup over his face. “I just didn’t take him as the type,” he says, muffled into his palms.

“As what type?”

He drops his hands, hitting his thighs with a slap, and looks you dead in the eye. Sad, almost. “Arthur Kennedy type.”

“He’s not.”

You say it instinctively. Your ears hear it at the same time your dad does. He looks at you blankly.

“He’s not,” you repeat, a little looser. Less hasty. “Look,” you sigh, “I know it’s not what you want to hear, but…everything that we ever did, I wanted to do. I already told you. There ain’t nothing we did that I didn’t ask him to. I swear to you.”

You think back to the cookout, how angry Joel was at the thought of Arthur Kennedy hanging over you. How pissed he’d be, hearing your dad line him up against that old leather boot of a man. Comparing, contrasting. Here’s how you measure up, son. How much of a phantom Arthur Kennedy has been, your whole life, and how much of a sanctuary Joel is in comparison.

Your stomach twists at the thought. A tight knot, wound by a desperation to clear the name of a man whose worst offense was doing exactly what your dad would’ve told him to: leave.

“This whole thing,” you go on, “it’s a mess, alright? It’s – totally fucked. And we shouldn’t’ve lied, shouldn’t’ve been keeping things from you, but then…what did you expect?”

Your dad cuts in like a bullet: “I expect the two of you not to do what you were doin’.”

“No, I know that. But we did it, right? It’s done now. I meant, did you really want us to sit you down in the living room ‘n say, Hey, Dad – guess what?”

He grimaces at the thought.

“Didn’t think so. We didn’t even know what it was. We had no idea what it’d turn into. But you gotta hear me out: it wasn’t just…some fling, or whatever you’re thinkin’. I swear, Dad, it wasn’t.”

He still doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t lift his stare from the table. You feel like a little kid, desperate to make him love you again. Desperate to make him listen. The space between you fills with the bored tick tick tick of the kitchen clock. Each second hurting a little more than the last.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I’m sorry that I hurt you. I’m sorry I let you down, but…I’m not sorry that I did it. If I could go back, knowing everything I know – I’d do it all over again.”

The words roll across the table to him like billiards. You lean back again, watching them as they rattle from his side to yours – your sentence delivered back into your ears. You nod, a sure thought in your mind.

I’d do it all over again. All the covering, all the hiding. The aching, the wishing and wanting. Staring at Joel’s empty hand, dying to slot yours into it. Dying to put any part of yourself near him; your head under his chin, your arms linked around his waist. Knowing you two would feel, knowing everyone else would see, just how perfectly you fit together.

The chasing your own tails: Did you lie well enough? Do they suspect anything? Did we leave any evidence? Disturbed sheets, a collar still upturned. Can they hear us? Have they noticed we’re missing? We’re always fucking missing.

You’d do it all over again. You know what it cost, now, sat directly opposite the price. His polite smiles like veneers over rotten teeth. The tremble in his lip when he opens his mouth to speak.

And it was worth it. Joel. He was worth it all, in the end.

All over again.

“Do you know that every time I look at you, there are…probably four versions that I see?”

You frown. Did he hear what you just said? All ov–? “What?”

Your dad laughs to himself. “When you walk outta that door, I see a little pink backpack over your shoulders. Gym bag in your hand, maybe. I see missin’ front teeth, I see those little clip-on earrings you used to love so much.

“And – and when you’re mad at me, when we fight, I see you at fourteen. Growing pains, y’know? I still remember you slamming your bedroom door in my face, all ‘cause I wouldn’t let you go to that girl Molly’s birthday party.” He looks up, smiling at your perplexed expression.

“I don’t even…remember that, hardly.”

“Long time ago now. My point is,” he continues, “you’re twenty-three. You’re grown. And I just can’t figure out how to make those other versions…grow with you. You still feel like my kid. Still that little girl with the pink backpack.”

“But,” you clear your throat, trying to swipe her from your own memory, “I’m not. I’m not her anymore, Dad. And I think maybe you gotta give me the space to be someone different, now.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, nodding. “I know, I know. I just didn’t think this new version of you would…y’know. Be with Joel, ‘n all. That is something I did not see comin’.”

“You think I did?” You spit a laugh. “If you told me when I came home that this is what was waiting for me…that I was gonna fall…”

Your teeth close around the sentence, dropping your dad’s eye. But it’s too late.

He stares back at you like the sun. “…Fall in love with ‘im?”

And you cower. You wince, almost. The last secret. The last thing he doesn’t know. “I don’t…I don’t know, I –”

“You love him. You do, don’t you?”

Your thumbs run circles around one another, fingers locking until your knuckles hurt. “I don’t know,” you mumble, wishing for the tenth time since you sat down that Joel was beside you, in front of you, around you.

“’s what Anna seems to reckon.”

Your eyes flit up. “Anna?”

He hums. “She is her father’s daughter. A damn meddler. She called here, last night.”

“Oh, Jesus,” you groan, head falling into your hands. “Ignore her, please. Ignore all of it. She doesn’t –”

He holds a palm up. “Now, hold on. You don’t even know what it was she said.”

You huff a sigh, twisting your hand in the air. Go on.

“She reckons you do love him. Reckons he loves you back. More, if that’s even possible, she said. Told me all about the way he stepped in front a’ that boy at Frank’s. About your face when he picked you up from rodeo night, how ecstatic you were. The difference she sees in you.”

“Difference,” you scoff, glancing out to the backyard. “What difference?”

“Same difference I see, probably. Same difference Bill said he saw, too: you’re happier. Even I can’t deny it, hon. It’s damn hard – you never make nothin’ easy on your old man – but…but I am willing to try.”

The hurt begins to slowly fizzle away. Cooling, washing from your skin like foamy waves. Curiosity left to shine through.

“You may not understand this ‘til you have kids of your own – if you have kids of your own – but there ain’t a thing in this world that I love more than I love you. And when you love somethin’ that much, you’ll do anything to stop it from getting hurt. Anything. That’s all I want you to know.”

A silence falls between you, thoughtful and waiting. The clock’s ticking grows sharper again. It seems to consider the same as you: there should be more to this. More to be said, to be convinced. More yelling, even.

But you arrive at the same conclusion, at near enough the same time: there is nothing more. Cards flat on the table, eyes pouring all over them. To question it, to second-guess any of it, would be to tempt fate.

“Anyway,” your dad sits forward, clasping his hands on the table, “tell me what’s goin’ on. What’s been happening in your world?”

You shrug. A little, shy thing. “Work. Been hanging with Sarah a lot. And I, uh, I had a job interview last week.”

“Oh, yeah? Where?”

You shift awkwardly in your chair. “For, uh…that one in LA. They called to offer it a couple days ago.”

A smile pulls across his lips. Growing, growing, growing until he’s grinning back at you. Pride, little bit of surprise. Whole lot of amusement and joy. “You take it?” he asks, figuring he knows the answer already.

“Not yet,” you reply. “Think I’m going to, though. ‘s too good to say no.”

He lifts his eyebrows in agreement, looking down at his hands. Shoulders lurch some under the weight of your news. “There goes that little backpack,” he mutters to himself, and you smirk.

“Can’t hold her back forever.”

“I never had a hold on her in the first place. You were walkin’ on outta that door the minute you found your own two feet.”

You snort. “Good! Good for me. Let me go out into the big ol’ world; let me go fuck it all up ‘n come home for dinner once I’m done.”

“I intend to,” your dad says, nodding along to every passionate word you say. And then he asks, “How’s Joel feelin’ about it all? About LA?”

Your shoulder jerks in a half-shrug. “He’s fine, I guess. Says he’ll miss me, but then – we haven’t exactly had the most typical relationship up until now. Survived a lot I reckon would break any normal couple…”

It’s the first time you think you’ve ever said it. Couple. You’ve thought of it – flicked through the words you might use to describe him. Your boyfriend, your partner. None of them seem to fit exactly who he is to you. None of them strong enough to carry the weight of what’s shared between you. He’s Joel. He’s your Joel. Nothing will ever come close.

Your dad hears it, too. The newness of it. The crisp shape of the word, not yet thawed to this new world. Your tongue still learning how to pronounce it, how to pair it with the image of Joel.

“Guess he can fly out ‘n visit whenever, right?”

“Yeah,” you swallow, “and I’ll be back here, too. Christmas ‘n all.”

Your dad smiles. Relieved, assured. Light slowly returning to his eyes.

“We’ll be fine,” your chest swells, “so Joel says. I trust ‘im.”

You both quieten, sitting back in your chairs. What once felt like a room ablaze, flames tearing the skin from your body as you dragged your heels through it – now feels like a gentle warmth. Waves wrought with enough power and force to destroy you, now seeping off with the change of the tide. Bumps on the horizon.

“Speaking of,” you say, making to stand, “I should probably get goin’.”

“Yeah. Yeah, hon.” Your dad follows, arm on your shoulder as he walks you down the hall.

The sun intrudes, tosses herself into your arms as you pull the front door open. In her golden-rayed wake sits that dark truck, same as always. The same dark tee, the same dark-speckled-gray hair. Arms folded, stood against the body, waiting. Eyes on the house, on your figure as you step down onto the doormat. Joel straightens when your dad follows you out, chest sucking in a ragged breath.

They look at one another, and that’s about it. Something of a nod from Joel – not quite returned by your dad. You figure that might take some time to come back around. And that’s okay. You can make peace with it.

You turn back. Your dad’s looking down at you, hand over his eyes to shield them from the sun.

“You know,” you take a deep breath, “the only times he’s ever hurt me, are the times he’s left. The times I haven’t had him around.”

And then you step back, the magnet in your chest telling you it’s time to return to its partner.

In high school, your English teacher tasked the class with writing a short story. Any genre you wanted, any word count up to two thousand. The boys mostly dicked around, wrote action-packed, blood-and-guts garbage. One girl wrote something you’re sure you’d seen in a Hallmark movie before.

But you – you spent two weeks straight, writing. Awake until all hours of the night, hunched over your laptop, sunbathing in the blue hue of an open document. Fingers hammering rapidly into your keyboard.

A man and a woman meet in Central Park. She – hair the color of rust, spilling down her shoulders and lifting at the ends, twisting around the fingers of the blustery wind. A red glow around her third finger where gold once lived. Sat on a bench, alone. Hiding, perhaps. And he – sharp suit and tie, clean-shaven, a steel-blue gaze that might cut glass. Missing the city traffic by taking a walk through the park on his way home. Fleeing, perhaps.

He notices her trench coat first. Bright red, a poppy swaying in the breeze. A little hopeless, a solemn wilt to it. The quickly dampening fire of her hair in the rain, the opaque sheen of polish chipping from her nails. And he thinks he recognizes the constellation of freckles painted across her cheeks. Thinks he might’ve mapped them, once, in some kind of past-life.

She looks up and realizes she recognizes the cut of his gaze. Piercing through her, splitting her in two. Thinks she might’ve felt it before, the opening of her soul to someone who looked just like him – a little more baby-faced, a little more spirited. In some kind of past-life, too.

She stands, and he slows, and they meet somewhere in the middle. Words exchanged; body heat transferred through hugs. Is that really you? You look so different. It’s been years. He doesn’t ask about the lack of jewelry on her third finger. She doesn’t ask about the gray circles beneath his eyes. Just, You wanna grab a coffee? and, Yeah. Yeah, I do.

They sit at the window, watch the yellow taxis and the black umbrellas and the trembling traffic lights. They talk about life then, life now, and silently agree to forget about the part in the middle. They look at each other the same way they must have before they lost one another, before life and love and everything else got between them.

They agree to meet again in a week. They swear that they will not fall back in love.

They know as well as each other that they’re really promising to do just that.

Love – twisted and turned over and over, until it’s a different shape altogether. We started as one thing, and we watched it shift into something completely different. Clay in the potter’s hands. Didn’t you think it might fall apart? There was a moment I thought the heat of the kiln might break us. I’m glad it didn’t. I’m glad we’re made of tough stuff.

I’m glad I found you again, in that park. The pissing rain and the wind so strong I felt it lifting the sense from my mind. In that hardware store, in that bar filled with weed and bad intentions. I’m glad you split me open, glad you could see the good that was still inside. I thought I’d lost her for a minute. Thought she’d forgotten her way home.

Let’s go get a coffee. Let’s pretend it’s always been this way.

Let’s fall in love. The rest will take care of itself.

It takes three weeks in total to properly pack up your things. Two days after you accepted the job, you bought boxes and tape, and began to dismantle the identity you’d spent twenty-three years creating for yourself, a little bit at a time. Taking apart the pink-walled museum of your life, artefact by artefact.

Joel has helped as much as you’ve let him. Laid back on your bed when you’ve dismissed him one too many times, raised his eyebrows and laughed with you whenever you come across some old, forgotten piece of memorabilia. Something ceremonial to it, something innocent and fun. Like a little graduation for all the parts of yourself.

Soon, as the last of the summer sun dampens outside, your room lies vacant. Empty of any real evidence of your being here. Bedsheets and pillows folded, packed away; framed photos and posters unpinned from the wall and wrapped up safely. Drawers and closets barren, left with a selection of your less-loved, less-worn clothes. A wardrobe built from stuff you’ll only ever wear when you come back home to visit, if even then.

Joel’s sat on the bare mattress, looking around your room. You’re stood opposite, leaning against your half-empty dresser. The sun filters feebly through your turned shades, averting her eyes.

You look over at him. Golden, like the sunlight outside. Warm, like the breeze through the trees. Yours. Yours yours yours.

“What?” Joel asks, his eyes having finally found their way back to you. He smiles at your focused expression.

“Nothing. I don’t know. Just…”

“Talk to me. Tell me.”

“You are – this is…” You sigh. “This is good. I think it’s good. Not just all the stuff we did. But you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you tell him. “You’re good for me.” You grip the wooden lip tighter, swaying nervously when you add, “But I think it was always gonna go this way, wasn’t it?”

He sniffs. Shoulders jerk in a weak shrug. “Yeah, I think so, baby.”

Your eyelashes flutter, soothing the prickling feeling of tears forming. “I don’t – I don’t know if I want it to.”

“Yeah,” Joel says through a groan, pushing himself up, “you do.”

You shake your head as he approaches, and his hands cup your cheeks.

“Hey,” he whispers, pulling your body tight against his. Your face buries in his chest; your tears wet on his shirt. He shushes you, rocks you gently back and forth with a hand on the back of your head. “Listen to me.”

“Joel –”

“Listen to me.” He pulls you back, swipes the tears from your cheeks as quickly as they fall. “We’re fine. We are going to be fine.”

“I don’t want to leave you –”

“I know, I know. But you want to go do this. And that’s okay. Both of ‘em, at once.”

Your head shakes again. Like an instinctive reaction to the thought of being separated from him.

Joel smiles softly. “I am going to miss you like hell. You got no idea. But,” he pulls your head back to face his, tucks your hair behind your ear, “I want you to go. You gotta go after this. Right?”

“I know,” you whisper, lungs lurching for breath. “I just – wish it didn’t mean leavin’ you.”

“Darlin’…” Joel coos, pulling you in again. “You know how much I love you? What do I keep tellin’ you? We’ll be alright. It’s you ‘n me, right?”

You nod, salty tears slipping between your lips onto your tongue. When you look up, you notice the same expression on Joel’s face. He blinks his own away before they fall.

“’s you ‘n me,” you repeat, and he pulls your lips together.

You roll your tongue onto his, letting him taste you – all of you. Your mouth, and your thoughts, and your tears, and your pain. You let him take it all, let him hold it for this moment as you breathe him in, let his body fill yours in every way.

Your hands are in his hair, your chest pressed against his; he’s every thought on your mind and every beat in your heart. He’s the blood thrumming through your veins, he’s the oxygen filling your lungs; he’s the words between your teeth and the flesh around your bones.

And he pulls you, and you follow, his shirt in your fist, over to the bed where he lays you gently and falls on top.

“When’s he get back?” he asks, taking your bottom lip between his teeth.

“Later,” you mumble, your fingers picking at the hem of his shirt.

He pushes back, letting you tug it up up up over his shoulders at the same rate he peels your tee from yours, both tossing each other’s clothes to somewhere else in the room. Jeans undone, shorts dragged from your hips, underwear discarded until you’re naked under him, and he’s naked over you, and there’s nothing and no one between.

Joel cradles you, holds you close as he presses a palm roughly against the underside of your thigh, opening your body to him in a way only he’s mastered. In a way you only would, for him.

His hand cups your sex, fingers nudging between your folds, pushing in when your jaw slackens and a wanton moan echoes from your throat across Joel’s tongue.

“Yeah,” he coos, wrist jacking between your legs, “’s my girl. Gotta get you warmed up, huh? Get you nice ‘n wet.”

Your back arches, arms linking around his neck to pull him closer, pull him deeper. Hold him tight enough to you that your bodies feel one, feel connected at the meeting of Joel’s hand and the most intimate part of you; the meeting of your tongues between teeth.

And you gasp, the nudging of his fingers against the deepest part of your body, the messy circles of his thumb on your clit. The shape of him, solid and warm against the seam of your thigh.

You reach down for him, wrapping your fingers around his cock, and his breath hitches. Teeth bump into yours. You’re fucking irresistible to him.

“Darlin’,” his voice is low, daring you to keep going, “you wanna cut this short ‘fore we’re even started?”

You breathe a laugh into his jaw, hot and needy. “You get to play with me,” you whine, “I wanna play with you, too.”

Joel growls, seizing his movements, leaning back in what you take as him granting full access to his body. But then he says, “Turn around,” in a strict voice you’ve come to know as meaning one thing, and you pause.

You peel your eyes from his dick to blink up at him. “Turn –?”

“– around, now.” He takes your waist, hoisting you up until you’re straddling him, holding you inches above his body. “Turn.”

“What the fuck are you –?”

“Many times do I gotta tell you? You said you wanted to play.” He twists your waist until you follow his movements, swinging one leg over the other. He grabs your hips, tugging you back towards his face. “So, play,” he mutters, lowering your cunt down to his lips.

You gasp, falling forward and hitting the mattress between his legs. “J– fuck me. Are you s-serious?” You moan, hips rocking against the feeling of his bearded chin at your clit. “You’re like – a fucking – horny teenager. Oh, fuck.”

Your head falls forward, hands splaying out over his thighs, before your eyes refocus and you notice the hardened shape of him, tip oozing precome all over the hair-spattered plain of his groin. Your hand lifts, shakily taking hold of him again, and you lean down.

Elbows hooked over his thighs, you bring his tip to your lips, letting a thick bead of saliva fall and drip down the length of him, meeting your closed fist to be dragged up and down.

Joel’s hips almost buck. He holds it, manages to catch it, but you spot it. You’ve done this too many fucking times not to notice the reaction you draw from him.

“’s good,” you whisper, circling your hips on his face, tongue slipping across his cherry-red tip. “Feels so good.”

He responds in the form of a deep groan, rattling from his chest through your clit, shocking like lightning up your spine until the very same noise is thrown from your lips. You push down, tongue molding around every vein and the slow curve of his cock until your lips meet the thick brush of hair at his base, his tip kissing the very back of your throat.

Your throat which jumps, jolts at the feeling of something intruding – before you’re retreating again, pulling him from your body, warm, wet spit linking the two of you when you come up for air. And then you sink back down, head moving up down up down up down as his stomach tenses beneath your chest.

Joel’s palms keep a heavy hold on your ass, his tongue lapping between your folds like they’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted – like he might die if he doesn’t get his fix of you. And you think, they are, and he might, as your cheeks hollow and you bow down over him again.

You establish a rhythm, two waves swirling between one another: your hips rocking, Joel’s lifting ever so slightly as you suckle on one another. Your hand fisting the parts of him you can’t quite reach, not without choking; Joel holding you fixed to his jaw, letting the tip of his tongue hook around your swollen clit, then dragging it down until he’s letting you ride the wet muscle.

The approach of your first orgasm, a tiny spark catching to life in the pit of your belly, incites you with a need to open up further for him. Your throat taking more of him, your thighs slackening as you drive your cunt harder against his mouth.

“’m so close,” you whimper, lips curving around his cock. “So – fucking – ah, keep doin’ that. Right th-there.”

His hands hook around your thighs, tongue darting across your clit. His nose nudges somewhere between your folds, quickly becoming coated in the slick you’re leaking all over him.

“Joel,” you say, fists pumping his cock. Your voice a warning: it’s coming. You’re gonna – Fuck, you’re gonna come.

His voice is looser, more of a shrug of the shoulders when he pulls away from you. He inserts two fingers, curls them like before, like he knows drives you fucking insane. “Let go, babygirl,” he murmurs, lips immediately returning to position. And then, muffled and rough: “Come all over me.”

“Fuckfuckfuck,” you pant, hands squeezing around his cock, feeling that same spark ignite into flame, your entire body bursting with heat.

Your high rips through you, battering through each vein in your system, each nerve electrified. You collapse between his legs, his rough pubic hair sticking to the sweat on your chest, hips rutting wildly against the sharp cut of his jaw.

The mattress absorbs most of the desperate moan which streaks across your tongue, nails digging hard into the flesh of Joel’s thighs. And you hear the deep sound of his voice, the thud thud thud of a chuckle against your clit: the cocky fucker laughing to himself as he unravels you for what feels like the thousandth time.

“Alright,” Joel says, more to himself than to the fucked-out shape of you between his legs. He sits up and shifts you carefully down the bed, settling you face-down on the mattress and lifting your ass to meet his hips. “Okay?” he asks, kneeling behind you.

You feel his tip between your legs, slotting happily somewhere in your opening. Waiting for your response. A response you don’t feel able to give, as much as you’d like to; your lips puffy and confused, words jumbling behind them in a tangle of bliss and love.

“Baby,” Joel says, hand slinking down your back, pressing gentle circles into the nape of your neck. “You okay?”

Your head lifts, glancing over your shoulder to see his hairy torso, his thick arms caging over you. He lifts your chin with two fingers, cranes your neck up until you’re looking into his eyes, heavy lids blinking dumbly.

“Just fuck me,” you whisper, and Joel slips his tongue into your mouth.

You used to dream of coming back home. A few years away, doing whatever you wanted, wherever you wanted. Dreaming things up and then chasing them until they happened. Tiring yourself out, lungs gasping for breath and eyes always searching, always looking for a new target to pin up. But always coming back.

Austin, Texas. Its jagged skyline, the streets lined with a vibrant glow and star-spangled bunting. The river like a silver-bellied snake slithering through. Home.

You dreamt of living out your days here, once your blood had slowed and your mind settled. A quiet life in the country, a big wooden house with a wraparound porch. Two little rocking chairs, so you and whoever your husband turned out to be could sit and watch the sky fade from red into orange into white and then dull gray into deep blue.

Breeze kissing your cheek, his lips kissing your knuckles.

Joel.

Home.

You tell him, and he smirks. “That so?” he asks, wrapping his arms a little tighter around your naked body.

You nuzzle your cheek into the palm of his hand, breathing in the sweet scent of sweat and sex sitting in the air. “Mhm. You could play guitar until the stars come out.”

He hums in agreement. “Sounds like a pretty good dream. Tell you what: you go to LA, do what you gotta do. By the time you come back, there’ll be a big ol’ farmhouse, wraparound porch, rollin’ fields for the dogs. Coffee ‘n sunsets. How’s that sound?”

“And you’ll be there?”

He smiles. Scoops you in one arm and rolls you onto your front, chest to chest with him. His fingers ghost down the curve of your shoulder. “Baby,” he whispers, “I built the damn thing.”

It forces a laugh from your chest, something you’ve gotten used to by now. Joel and his ability to steal a giggle from you, the dumbest moments seeming the funniest. “You’re gonna build me a damn house?” you ask, chin resting between his pecs.

“That what you want?”

Your head rocks left to right, considering. “I just want you. That’s all.”

“Then you got me. I’m all yours.”

In his hazel eyes lives every moment you’ve ever shared. Every conversation, every kiss, every fight. Every minute he’s spent looking for you or at you, every minute you’ve spent looking back at him. It’s all in there. You see it like a movie reel, frame by frame.

It lands like a slot machine on that first night. Cleaning up after pizza. Shoulder to shoulder by your kitchen sink. You wish you’d just kissed him. Even with your dad right there. Wish you’d lifted your heels and put your lips on his, just for the fucking hell of it. Just to condense all of it, every second of longing and hurt and pain into one fleeting moment.

Wish you’d pulled him into you, against you, the weight of his body like an old friend. Welcomed it with open arms, like you’d spent your entire life missing it, waiting for it to come back to you. Let yourself feel your own heart, peeling between the cage of your ribs, reaching out for his. Always reaching for him.

Wish you’d looked him in the eye, tears softening the tufts of graying hair, vignetting the smirk only you can tell is there. Looked at him in that knowing way, that language only you two know; the glint in your eyes translating a thousand messy words into three. Just three – the simplest, lightest words you’ve ever known.

I love you. Let’s skip to the good part.

[k-hotchoisan]

Omg I need to see 24. Cowgirl with Yunho

And if there is a video with it 👀👀

23. Cowgirl with Yunho or Cowgirl with Wooyoung

Awww I wish I did have a video but I don’t ~ but point still stands, save a horse, ride a cowboy (yunho)

Heheh enjoy!

Genres/Warnings: smut, Drabble, riding, cream pies, unprotected sex, dirty talk, size kink, bulge kink

Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3

K’s 500 this or that masterlist here!

You came up with the idea of riding him, and the idea was brought up so casually, as if you were talking about what you had for lunch the day before, because Yunho had food go down the wrong pipe when he heard it. You blinked at him, confused at his confusion. Yunho is a pretty sizable male, and riding him was something you always wanted to try, and mostly because Yunho has never initiated you to ride him.

“Are you sure about that? I really don’t want to hurt you”, Yunho double confirms as he downs a glass of water. You nod. If missionary already had you clawing the sheets and screaming, just fucking imagine how riding him would be like. But of course, you would never say that to your partner.

Yunho rests his head against the pillows that press against the headboard, both hands flat by his sides. He doesn’t really know where to put them. You told him to just relax, but obviously it was a sentiment to yourself. He‘s rock hard and you’re soaking wet, and the both of you naked, might as well go all out. He’s groaning when you’re sucking him off, your doe eyes sending him into a spiral when his cock disappears in your mouth. You pull off when you see him grip the sheets.

“You can grab my hair you know”, you say before engulfing his cock whole again, and Yunho’s pretty hands immediately tangle with your hair, tugging gently as he tries to catch his breath.

“Shit, that’s so fucking good”, Yunho grunts, pushing your head down deeper as his cock hits the back of your throat. He twitches in you and give his cock a couple of bobs before you completely pull out, and Yunho releases your hair as he attempts to catch his breath. You’re slightly more comforted that he’s more lubed up at least. Yunho had fucked you with his fingers before you had him tugging your hair from the blowjob—another comfort.

You don’t know why you’re nervous now that you’re staring right into Yunho’s eyes as you climb onto him to straddle his lap. His hands are on your face, both thumbs stroking your cheeks. “We’ll take it slow okay?” He reminds you and you bite your lip as you nod.

Fuck’s sake, his cock is fucking huge now that you’re just looking down at it comparing to your pussy.

But at the same time, the thought of it just splitting you open just gradually turns your brain into mush.

You squat over his cock, as you slowly push in his tip in, feeling the pressure, yet at the same time, the more you take his cock in, the more fucking amazing it feels—the way your walls are hugging his cock snug and tight.

You look up at him, and your heart pounds even more—Yunho’s half lidded, panting slightly more, his core is tightening as well as his grip on your hips. For a moment, you worry that he’s suddenly faint.

“Are you okay babe? Should I stop?” You ask, with his cock half way in.

Yunho shakes his head immediately, as if desperate. “Fuck, don’t you fucking stop. Please.”

Ah, you get it now. And so you sink in deeper, and he gets even thicker. Your hands claw Yunho’s shoulder the moment his big cock is fully in you, and you gasp.

It’s taking Yunho everything he has not to just fucking cum in you—you’re so tight and warm around him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck”, Yunho curses, his head sinking into the pillows. His cock is pretty much bulging when he’s inside of you and you’re biting back a cry from how filled you feel. He’s so fucking big. For a moment, the both of you stay still, the only thing you hear are pants from the both of you—well mostly Yunho trying to control his breathing.

“I’m gonna move now”, you try your best to voice out, and Yunho’s grip on your thighs loosen, and he nods through half-lidded eyes.

You begin to grind your hips, and soft moans escape your lips whenever you feel Yunho’s cockhead drag along your walls. Yunho’s breath is ragged, but his hands still finds yours on his shoulder and he intertwines his fingers with yours.

“You’re taking all of me in you so well,” he sighs, kissing the back of your hand. “You feel so fucking amazing, babe.”

Soon enough, you’re lifting your hips and bouncing off his cock, your moans straight up turning into screams from the way Yunho’s impaling you. Yunho places your hands on his shoulders while his own slides down to your hips.

“So deep”, you sigh as you bite your lip, feeling the way his cockhead presses onto your cervix every time he drives his cock right into you. Yunho cups your face and pulls you in gently to plant kisses along your jaw as his hips thrust into you, and fireworks begin to burst behind your eyelids. Euphoria is beginning flood your senses as your abdomen tightens.

Yunho feels the way you’re starting to flutter around his cock, so he keeps up the pace, his eyes darting at the way his cock is pushing a bulge when you’re fully seated on him.

Your fingers are leaving scratches on his shoulders. Yunho strokes your sides, shutting his eyes to fight off the urge to just fucking breed you, and he coaxes you in the softest tone,

“Are you gonna cum for me? Cum for me, baby. It feels so good, right?”

And you snap, your orgasm hitting you in waves as your thighs shake violently, your walls squeezing Yunho’s dick as he holds your legs down, making sure you cum on every inch of his cock.

Your eyes roll back and cries pour out of you as you lean forward with your arms wrapped around his neck. Yunho kisses your ear as he strokes your hair from behind, whispering sweet nothings into your ears, encouraging you to release all over his cock.

“Fuck, yes, yes. So fucking good. Oh my god, fuck”, are the words that only leave your lips before Yunho begins lifting you ass up again to fuck you from below and your mind is completely broken from the overstimulation.

Soon, Yunho is groaning and panting himself, desperate to chase his orgasm and he’s slightly more aggressive—biting and licking up your neck while desperately rutting into you until a cry escapes him as he stills in you.

“Cumming babe. Oh fuck”, he sighs, letting his release spurt your walls as his dick twitches after each load.

The both of you stay in that position for awhile before you pull away, taking Yunho’s face into your hands and giving him a peck on his nose, which he returns with a full on kiss.

“I think this might be my favourite position”

[mukbangg]

Soft Billy thoughts...

18+

(I'm waiting for my rollercoaster ride like this queue is so long for what....anyways billy drabble)

Early mornings before the summer sun comes out, and the chill has yet to leave the air so its cozy and snug under the sheets pressed against Billy. Hes sprawled over you like you'll fly away if he hasnt got his arms and legs wrapped around you. Honestly the first few times you had tried to kick him off but you're resigned to your fate after he keeps crawling back , cooing and kissing your jaw, face tucked in your neck with half his body practically pressing you down. Sometimes you say hes more baby than cowboy.

But mornings like this with Billy, pressed skin to skin like hes trying to merge with you, half naked and toasty sandwiched between him and the bed, you couldn't ask for anything more perfect.

"Mornin' doll,"

He murmurs, lips already trailing hot kisses down the side of your face that could only mean one thing. His arm was under your back and hooked under your armpit, pressing your side into his chest while his other hand palms at your belly, thumbing at the under curve of your breasts. Billy's obssessed with touching you, often times trailing behind like some puppy, hand stuffed down your back pocket despite your repeated chidings that you're busy.

He cant help it, he just need his girl.

Breath hot on your cheek, theres no stopping Billy when he gets like this, so full of love for you as he mumbles sweet nothings, hand sliding down to tug your panties off and tease your clit. You whine, still bleary with sleep, eyes barely open as each press of his callous finger shoots straight pleasure up your spine.

"Open up f'me,"

Billy chuckles, tapping on your thighs.

You breathed out a sigh, doing as you're told and he awards you with another kiss on your cheek.

"That's my girl,"

He sucks in a harsh breath when he dips a finger into your cunny, slippery with the slick pooling already. He squeezes two thick fingers in, curling to rub at your sweet spot as he echoes your moans, nuzzling into your hair.

Then he squeezes a third finger in, stretching out your sloppy cunt and you mewl, back arching to grind down lazily on his fingers.

He swirls his thumb on your clit a few more times and you sputter gasping breaths as you gush around his fingers.

But Billy's not done and he continues to fuck your cunny with three fingers, trying to coax another orgasm out of you.

"Its t-too much Billy-"

"I can't-"

But he doesnt care and your jaw goes slack as he fits his pinky in, the sweet burn accompanied with his frantic swirling on your clit making you choke out a broken whimper at the sudden burst of pleasure as you see stars.

You're panting, head lolling back as you try to blink away the fuzziness in your head, his fingers pulling out to stroke your wet folds. Hes murmuring praises into your ear and you think hes finished as he pull you into his lap, brain too stuffed with cotton to register his large palms spreading your thighs again his chin hooked over your shoulder to watch your sweet cunny swallow his cock.

Then hes planting his knees firmly into the bed to thrust up frantically into you, the wet slickslickslick of your sloppy pussy filling the room alongside your choked moans and the squeak of the flimsy bed.

"G'me another doll,"

Billy coos into your ear, almost condescending if not for the soft lilt of his pet name for you.

"Y'can do it, hm? My best girl,"

His hand leaves the underside of your thigh and reaches in front of you, fingers rubbing roughly on your swollen clit as tears leak out your eyes at the overstimulation, not a single coherent thought in your mind.

Then he drops you down on his cock just right and your orgasm rips through you so hard your vision goes white for abit as you practically squirt his dick out.

You can hear Billy's delighted snort of laughter before he choked out a moan, his other hand going to fist his cock desperately and hes spurting thick strings of white over your pussy. His fingers were quick to smear his cum over your folds, tap tapping at your clit to coax out spurts of clear liquids as you whine in protest, too sensitive to do anything but jolt and tremble in his arms.

But then hes squeezing three fingers back into your sloppy hole to fuck his cum in slowly, tutting at the waste.

"My girl's the best in the world, hm?"

He mumbles into the side of your head, kissing you softly and watching your sleepy eyes flutter as his other hand goes to cup your jaw to support your lolling head.

His thumb swipes at the line of drool at the corner of your lips, thumb pressing into your mouth for you to suck lazily before hes lining his already hard cock up to your leaking hole, rubbing against your clit once, twice, and you both moan as he pushes his swollen head in to kiss your cervix.

"This time you'll take my cum in your tummy, 'kay? Don't waste it again,"

The threat in his tone as he forces you to look at your drooling cunny stretch over his fat cock was enough to make you mewl in agreement, nodding clumsily as he begin to fuck you in earnest once more.

[kitten4sannie]

Hear me out…san…dry humping 😧

i’m hearing you anonnie… also dry humping but in a pool 👀 bc of that instagram vid…

ʟᴀᴛᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ꜱᴡɪᴍ

pairing: boyfriend! san x fem! reader feat. security guard! mingi

genre: smut

summary: you and your boyfriend sneak into the public pool late at night.

w.c: 1.7k

warnings: soft dom! san, sub! reader, pet names, praise, ddlg, kissing (it gets messy bc i said so), grinding/dry humping, unprotected sex, creampie, exhibitionism, breeding kink

a/n: will the san pool video rot my brain like cowboy san did? only time will tell ✨

Masterlist

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Standing near the edge of the empty pool below your feet, you gazed into the still water, appreciating how the violet pool lights made it look like a portal to an otherworldly place.

“Do you think we’ll get caught?” San asked excitedly, mostly out of curiosity, standing near you, already pulling his plain t-shirt up to take it off.

“I sure hope so, especially if Mingi’s on security duty,” you replied playfully, taking off the oversized shirt that you borrowed from him ages ago, the cold night air sending a shiver down your spine. “I’d love for him to see me right when I’m cumming.”

“What was that?” San peeked at you through the neck hole of his shirt, half of his face still stuck inside the material.

“Nothing, baby.” You giggled at the sight of him, finding it cute how his upper body was almost too big for him to take his shirt off successfully. You gathered up some of the material and helped peel it off of him, setting it down on an empty chair afterwards.

"Thanks, love." He kicked his sweatpants off, leaving him in a small pair of black briefs and a simple silver chain necklace, only noticing the way you were staring at him when you just stood there adjusting your bra. "What's that look for, hm? Enjoying the view?"

Nodding unapologetically, you took a step closer to him, running your hands up his large, solid biceps, feeling them flex underneath your touch, slowly sliding your fingers around the back of his arms to appreciate his triceps as well. "Shit...if you get any bigger, you won't fit into any of your clothes."

San blew some air out of his nose, his lips curling into a small smile, his dimples present like every other time he was pleased. "You love it though, don't you, baby?"

"What do you think?" you questioned softly, pressing yourself against him and wrapping your arms around his neck, encouraging him to lift you up, your legs automatically hooking around his small waist.

Your boyfriend brought his lips to your cheek, leaving a gentle kiss on your cool skin, replying in a lower octave, “I think, yes.” He carefully walked around to the other side of the pool where the steps were and slowly made his way into the heated water, still holding you close to him. "Mm, the water's nice."

"Yeah, it is..." You let go of his neck and leaned your upper half back into the water, reaching your arms out horizontally so that you could float comfortably, gazing up at San who slowly waded across the pool, pulling you along with him.

"It'd probably feel nicer without your bra on, don't you think?" San suggested, eyeing the beads of liquid that slid down the middle of your chest and trickled along your abdomen.

You smirked a bit. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah," he nodded, with a mischievous glint in his warm brown eyes.

Reaching behind your back, you undid the clasp of your bra, tossing it, the damp material landing near one of the poolside chairs. "Mm, you were right, Sannie." You ran your hands up your body, grabbing at your tits, feeling your nipples harden almost painfully from making contact with the chilly night air and the warm water. "It feels really good."

"I bet it does." He sighed softly, his briefs growing just a little tighter, taking it upon himself to move his hands up along the sides of your waist, replacing your hands with his own, massaging your tits in circles. Hearing your small sounds of approval, he pulled at your nipples and tweaked them, flicking them a couple of times for good measure.

"Baby..." you murmured weakly, your clit already throbbing steadily in between your legs, feeling a familiar hardness pressing into you as well.

"What is it, angel?" He brought you to the side of the pool, so that you could rest your back against the smooth finishing of the pool wall. "You want more, don't you?"

You nodded your head, licking your lips. "Yes, please..."

-

San had you pinned to the wall, holding you by the upper thighs and dragging you back and forth along his cock, having pulled it out through the convenient hole in his briefs quite a while ago. You could only let out very muffled whiny moans, due to how deep his tongue was inside your mouth, making you suck and lick at it so that you didn't choke, your collective spit dripping from the both of your chins, some of it trickling down your necks.

"Baby's getting so whiny," San sighed against your lips, licking up a string of saliva from your chin and swallowing it down. "Is it because I'm rubbing my cock on your pretty little pussy?"

"Uh-huh," you agreed, your fingers running up his chest to play with his chain, admiring how it sparkled from the light reflecting off of the pool. "Keep going, Daddy." That was all it took for San to speed up the movements of his hips, controlling yours with ease, his large hands pressing into them and feeling your hipbones underneath your skin, almost treating you like a doll for his own pleasure.

Hearing your moans starting to rise in pitch, he lowered his mouth to one of your tits, lapping at your nipple with enthusiasm, his dark eyes still focused on your flushed face. You pouted down at him, making a squeaking sound when he moved your nipple in between his teeth, still prodding at it with the tip of his tongue. "Aww, what's wrong, baby?"

"Nnnngh, want your cock."

"You can have my cock once you come like this," he replied calmly, reaching down with one hand underneath the water to move your panties off to the side, the tip of his cock continuously teasing your fluttering hole each time he moved you back and forth across it.

“Oh, shit...” You gripped his shoulders tightly, trying to lift your hips up so that he would end up sliding inside you, successfully doing so at one point, his cock fully sheathed inside your pulsing cunt. “Stay inside, Daddy." Leaning in close to press a few desperate kisses to his lips, you begged in a small, desperate voice, "Fuck me. Please, please, please, Daddy. I need it so bad.”

“God, I cant say no to you, baby…” Conflicted, San groaned deeply, wanting to continue teasing you, but was unable to resist the way your slick cunt was sucking him in and tightening around him like a vice he could never escape from. “If you’re going to be begging like that, then you need to take it nice and hard for me,” he sighed out against your lips, as he began pounding himself into you, sending you into a state of pure esctasy, the water near your bodies splashing around violently from how eager he was.

“Thank you, Daddy, thank you…!” you cried out, trying to cling onto San the best you could, your nails beginning to leave red streaks down his broad back, his hips slamming into yours so viciously you couldn’t even form a single coherent thought. You were so full of him, so full of his cock. All the teasing earlier didn't help a single bit either. You were ready to lose it. “Gonna…come…Gonna come for you…”

“Yeah? You’re gonna squirt for Daddy, huh? Gonna make a big mess all over my cock like a good little girl, aren’t you?” Hearing the gate near the entrance of the pool area swing open and close, he was distracted from the adorable sight of you nodding your head and drooling, noticing the youthful-looking security guard with dyed hair making his way across the concrete.

Squeezing your eyes shut tight, you cried and yelled for your Daddy, hugging him tightly against your wet, heated body, your lower half throbbing with such intensity you were seconds away from actually crying. Feeling San shuddering and grunting into your ear, you whispered breathlessly, “Come inside, Daddy…Fill me up…”

“I'm filling you up, don't worry. I'm breeding my baby like I always do,” he returned shakily, making direct eye contact with the security guard who stood a few feet away, a flashlight in hand and the other on his hip, his Adam’s apple bouncing inside his throat, staring intensely at your sweaty, joined bodies. San sucked his bottom lip in between his teeth, groaning heavily as he slowly pumped his load into your needy, pulsing hole, not stopping until he emptied it all inside you. "Yeah, that's it..."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," you exhaled like a mantra, your irises disappearing behind your glossy eyelids, you thighs trembling around him.

San nodded in response, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple, gazing at you, before smirking up at the other male who witnessed your joined pleasure for the nth time. "Anything for my baby. You know I'll always breed you like the good toy you are."

You licked your lips, your body and mind buzzing even more intensely from his choice of words. "You should do it again."

"Oh, yeah?" San chuckled darkly, running his palms along your soft skin, groping it as much as he could, enjoying the small sounds of approval you made from his touch. "Baby wants to drain all of Daddy's cum and take it for herself, huh?"

"Stop acting like I'm not standing right here!" Mingi barked, clicking his flashlight off and rubbing the back of his neck, a deep blush imprinted on his cheeks. “I thought I told you two to knock it off.”

You slowly turned your head to look up at the man, giving him a lazy smile, your eyes completely glazed over from the post-orgasm bliss. “Did you? We were in the jacuzzi last time though. So this doesn’t really count.”

San rested his head on your shoulder, nodding slightly, still trying to catch his breath after his intense workout. “She’s got a point.”

He raked his fingers through his short hair in a frustrated manner, torn between wanting to report the two of you and letting you continue your escapades so he could catch you again. “Ugh, whatever." Mingi hesitated for a few seconds, as though he were waiting for you both to go at it again, blinking at the sight of your sickly sweet smile, wondering if he should just watch the pool CCTV footage back and call it a day. "I guess I’ll see you guys next Saturday then. Later.” He shook his head, turning on his heels and heading back towards the gate, letting out a long sigh, figuring he would have to do something about the new problem that just arose inside his work pants.

When you turned your head back to look at San, you gave him a pout instead, feeling somewhat defeated. “How many more times do you think we’ll have to fuck out here before he joins us?”

San shrugged his shoulders, idly curling a few locks of your soaked hair around his ringed finger. “As many times as it takes, I guess.”

You let out a sigh of your own, tilting your head back to look at the constellations sitting inside the vast night sky. “Let’s just find out where his office is and fuck there, so he really takes the hint.”

San followed your lead, admiring the stars with you, a perverted smile plastered on his sweaty, flushed face. “Agreed.”

➽───────────────❥

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

© toxicccred, 2023.

[aurasplanet]

GRIMES’ KID carl grimes x fem!reader

warnings — age gap (not explicitly mentioned, i imagined 4 years; carl is 18 reader is 22), carl has a thing for you being older, dry humping, mocking, riding, bad ending probably

carl met you when you were brought back to alexandria, battered and bruised and shaking like a leaf from presumably trauma. his father, daryl, and rosita had gone scavenging and found you, and after some questions and your worrying state they brought you back.

he was drawn to you immediately. you looked around his age, but when he found out you were a little older it made him more… interested? he was intrigued by how you held yourself. your normal behavior a great contrast to how shaken up you were when he first saw you.

he liked how similar you held yourself compared to him, cold, independent, confident even if it was a facade. he liked how when you met him you just shook his hand, looked into his eye with kindness in yours. one of the first people to not look too long or overreact and interrogate him about the bandage.

it was the little things that made carl’s brain short circuit. tying your shirt up when it got too hot, exposing the skin of your belly. offering to care for judith, unknowing to how carl’s mind ran wild about how you would do as a mother. maybe he was getting ahead of himself, but this deep rooted crush he had has developed over the two years you’ve been here. despite never acting on it.

but you act so nonchalant around him. he’s starting to understand how glenn and maggie fell together like puzzle pieces so quickly, but you don’t seem to spare him a glance anymore. it drives him insane.

as of now the group is huddled together, brainstorming their next scavenging trip to satisfy negan. you’re standing right in front of him, clad in cargo shorts and a white top tied in the front. you stood with your hand over your eyes, blocking yourself from the blazing sun as much as you could.

it’s the little things.

you feel eyes on you and turn around, laughing shortly with no surprise that carl was behind you. “hey kid,” you walk up to carl, flicking his hat with a smile. he’s always lurking in the background when the group is having discussions. he knows his father will either be too scared to let him join, or too wary to include his ideas.

he hums in response, squinting his eye to see you clearer. “hi.”

you shift your weight on your hip, “it’s a little hot out to be wearing a flannel and jeans, huh?”

carl shrugs and lifts his hat, ruffling his hair a bit before putting it back on. “not much choice.” him and those short answers, making it hard for you when all you want to do is listen to his pretty, raspy voice.

you huff and start walking towards his house, a slight smirk setting on your lips when you hear him shuffling behind you “you’re not going to help?”

“they’re sending your dad and a couple of others, not me.” you wait for him to speak again, ask you something else maybe. “they want me to watch after judith though.”

“i got it.”

it’s not that he doesn’t want you there, quite the opposite. it just irks him that even the smallest task of watching his own sister was being given to someone else.

you look back at him amusedly. “okay cowboy, i see you’re mister independent now?” he rolls his eye at the nickname, you gave it to him when you first met him. the hat you always saw him in resembled a cowboy’s hat. and when he kept getting antsy, correcting you defensively, it stuck as a way to pick on him a bit.

he grumbles, “i’ve been independent, you guys just refuse to listen to me.” you giggle and open the front door of his house, pouting at him mockingly. you take judy away from olivia with a smile and a thank you.

“you poor thing.” you bounce judith on your hip, hearing carl scoff behind you as he closes the door. you heard olivia say something about judith’s nap time so you head up to her room to put her down.

no surprise carl followed you.

“on a serious note,” you put judith down for bed, smiling at her sweetly. “i’m sure they’ll come around eventually. you’re a grimes for gods sake.”

“yeah, and that’s all they see me as.” he grumbles under his breath. you give him a look that says ‘i heard that’ and lead him out of judy’s room. “don’t act like you don’t either. i’m just rick’s son to you.”

you cross your arms and turn to face him, leaning against the door of his bedroom. “really, kid?”

he nods, licking his lips before continuing. “i’m just like some errand boy with a messed up face. i have to sneak out to execute my ideas and get my ass chewed out for it.” you knew he was talking about the time he attacked negan’s men, the memory making your face screw up. you were terrified of what negan could and would do to carl.

“one, stop saying you have a messed up face. two, maybe try to persuade people into listening to you more. i can help. when you go off and do things like that it makes you seem like you’re still a reckless kid.”

“i’m not a kid.” carl snarls, getting closer to you. his eye flicks from your eyes to your lips. you don’t miss it, you silently gasp and put your hands on his chest to prevent him from coming closer.

“slow your roll, kid.” the nickname rolls off your tongue out of habit, making carl even more upset.

he sighs annoyedly, “seriously?” he raises his hand up over yours slowly. he gave you time to pull away and smirks when you don’t. “slow my roll, huh?” you roll your eyes and push at his chest again, albeit softer this time.

“i think…” your hand still in his, he guides it up to his hair. you blink your eyes away from him. “i think you do that on purpose.” his head dips down to look into your eyes that are hellbent on avoiding him.

“do what on purpose?” your voice is breathless, he’s winning.

he smiles and tilts your chin up with his finger, “call me ‘kid’, mess with me, ignore me. you’re trying to ignore that you want me.” you scoff but your eyes still stay trained behind him. “say it.”

you look up at him now, breathing out heavily. “i want you.” it’s a mumble under your breath, barely audible.

“what was that, darlin’?” you purse your lips at the new pet-name.

“you heard me, grimes.”

he laughs breathlessly, inching his face closer to yours. “yeah, i did. i wanna hear you say it again.” he’s doing this so easily, turning you into putty in his hands. he’s always been the grimes kid you picked on, having fun toying around with him. he’s gone and turned it around on you so quickly it makes your head spin.

“i want you, carl.” he growls when you say his name, pushing his lips against yours harshly. his imagination is vivid, no doubt. but all of the begging he had you do for him in his head didn’t come close to the pretty, honey-like sound of your real voice admitting you want him.

it didn’t compare to how soft your lips felt against his, how perfect your skin felt on his fingertips. he pushes himself against you, chest to chest and deepens the kiss. you let out a small whine, using your free hand to grip his shirt.

he chuckles, “i bet this just has you seething, huh? you’re always so cocky, i wonder how people would react to you acting all pathetic for someone younger than you.” your hand in his hair tugs causing him to groan.

his lips go to your jawline, sucking and biting and kissing at the skin. he’s careful to not leave marks, saving those for the places only he could see. his hand goes behind you to open the door, pushing you inside and shutting it with his foot. he lays you down on his bed and hovers over you.

he bites his lips while he takes you in. you’re breathing heavy, your chest rising and falling quickly. he sees the sheer shine of sweat on your skin, how plump your lips are from your kiss, how pretty your skin looks with the little light seeping from the window.

he pushes your shirt up and kisses along your abdomen, leading up to your chest and taking it off completely. his hand goes to your back, lifting you off the mattress slightly to rid you of your bra. he sighs with satisfaction when he finally sees your tits for himself.

his fingers lazily roll your nipples, the small action causing you to whimper and buck your hips. “such a needy thing, aren’t you?” he was going to prove to you he was no longer a kid, one way or another. he was going to prove to you that he could make you feel good.

“you know, i like when you try to boss me around. because now i know i can put you in your place so easily,” his laugh in your ear is menacing. he peels your shorts off and groans at the wet patch on your panties.

he grinds against your clit and you gasp, his jeans causing friction that feels so good. the embarrassment of you being nearly fully naked while he’s still dressed adding onto the fire in your belly. he huffs in your ear every time he moves his hips, his hands holding yours in place against the mattress.

“do it.” your voice rasps out, your lust blown eyes boring into his.

he cocks his brow, “do what, darlin’?”

you bite your lip and resist rolling your eyes back from the pleasure. “put me in my place.” he laughs humorlessly, grinding against you a little harder and ripping a moan from you.

“this not enough for you?”

your coy smile returns, “tryin’ to say you can’t do better than that?” he growls and flips you over,

“if you wanna be so cocky, ride me.” carl tilts his head, placing his hands on your hips. you huff and shoot him a dirty look. “you asked for this.”

you unzip his jeans, tugging them down his legs. your impatience gets the best of you leaving you to abandon them at his mid-thighs. he laughs at your desperation, helping you pull your panties to the side and guide yourself onto his cock.

you whine at the intrusion, going down slowly. he sucks in a breath through his teeth, throwing his head back. his hat falls off as a result and with a smirk he picks it up and sets it on your head. your glossy eyes look at him curiously, “you look perfect.”

you look down shyly, trailing your hand up his shirt to reveal his slim figure. you breathe out shakily as you force the rest of him inside of you, sitting still for a bit to adjust and get used to feeling him inside of you.

all the whole carl is looking at you like a goddess, half lidded eyes raking along your body. your hands are unsteady on his chest, trying your best to steady yourself and bounce on him properly. he can’t help but huff out a laugh and hold your hips. “let me, darlin’.”

“i got it.”

you squeal when he bounces your hips for you, your head falling to his neck. he wraps a hand around your throat and pushes you back into place. “i wanna watch you, watch you fall apart. watch your desperate face.” his mouth goes to your chest, sucking harsher than before.

he lets go of your throat and puts both hands on your hips again, doing all the work while you moan sweetly on top of him. he can’t take his eyes off of you, finally getting you to himself the way he wanted. not to mention how hot you look in his hat.

your arms wrap around his neck and you lean down to kiss him. it’s a tad softer this time, carl wants to savor this as long as he can. his arms go around your waist, leaving you to grind on him instead. the kiss is messy, mostly heavily breathing into each others mouths trying to stay as close as possible.

“fuck, i’m close. y’feel so good around me, darlin’.” you whine at his words, god he finds you so cute. even when you’re a mess on his dick.

you mumble against his lips, “me too.”

he leans back, watching your face while you struggle to keep your pace. “cum with me, pretty?” you nod eagerly, muttering a weak ‘please’.

“good girl.”

he flips you over, thrusting into you fast and messily. his lips lock with yours and his right hand cups your chest. he pulls out with a groan and brings your hand up to wrap around his cock. his thumb finds your clit, rubbing fast causing whimpers to fall from your lips. his brows furrow and his mouth falls agape while he watches your pretty hand finish him off.

he sighs as he lays next to you, pulling you into his side. “how’s that for kid.”

you shrug, “eh, i did most of the work.” he looks down and squints at you,

“do i have to show you again?”

[swampstew]

Everyone make sure to say thank you to @quinloki for being the little creative devil and/or angel on my shoulder that whispers naughty thoughts. A big smooch on the head and a homemade double chocolate chip brownie for them for proofing and editing and gassing me up♥

Summary: You weren't supposed to be on this island but sometimes fate decides to throw you a lemon. Here's lemonade. Hope it quenches your thirst. Warnings: spicy content 18+ only; pre-time skip Eustass Kid x AFAB Reader; dubious consent, bit of knife play but no blood, creampie, cumplay, dom/sub dynamics, kind of reads as Yandere Kid at first because he's an intimidating asshole. WC: 2.3K

Minors DNI.

story inspired by the above gif from Cowboy Bebop

Bad luck. Dirty, rotten, awful bad luck to have been at this specific port on this specific day. Your intention was to stay until you found a ship heading in the direction you were mapping out �� it couldn’t have been more than two days when all hell broke loose.

When they arrived.

Anyone who had half a brain cell in the New World knew exactly who the Kid Pirates were, and the first rule of survival was stay away from them at all costs.

No such luck.

You hauled ass as soon as the rampage started. Being in the middle of the town, you had a head start to run in the opposite direction as the pirates decimated the crowd. You intended to double back towards the dockyard so you could jump on any pitiful rowboat and get the hell outta there, sea kings or ocean monsters be damned.

That proved to be your mistake.

Perhaps you had waited too long to run back to the shipyard, or perhaps it just wasn’t your day. All you knew was that the second you peered around the junk and broken trash that littered the yard, you could immediately feel a deadly presence.

It was overwhelming, like a blanket of death trying to wrap around your figure. You weren’t sure where the feeling of being watched was coming from, you were so sure there wasn’t anybody on the dock aside from dead bodies, and yet a prickly feeling on the back of your neck told you, you’re in danger.

So you ran. Ducking between boxes and broken structures, you tried so hard to run where a small sailing boat sat lopsided off the beach. But before you could make it halfway, you felt the pull of all the metals on your person halt you briefly before you went flying backwards. Your eyes watered from the velocity, your ears deafened by the whistling of the air mixed with wicked laughter.

Your back slammed against the wooden deck of the punk ship. Your belongings were already gone, you heard the stomping of heavy boots making their way towards you as you fought to regain your breath from the impact. You could hear items being dropped as the steps grew nearer, until all you could see and hear was him.

Eustass Fucking Kid.

In his massive hand, he twirled your switchblade as he squatted over you. His golden eyes gleamed with excitement as he drank deep your adrenaline and fear.

“Do you fear death?” he darkly chuckled.

“Y-y-yes,” you whispered.

“Aye, everyone who has the misfortune to run into me usually ends up dead. Didn’t expect such a pretty little thing to dart between the wreckage. Was very sure we slaughtered everyone in the port already. So where did you come from?”

You tried to look anywhere but him and he didn’t like that. With a tsk, he firmly pressed your blade against your cheek, forcing you to look at him again.

“I don’t like asking twice,” he growled.

“I w-was in the town when I he-he-heard that your crew had docked a-and were making their way th-through the island. I-I-I thought I could outrun the r-rampage and steal a b-bo-boat when n-no one was here.”

“You thought wrong,” he sneered at you, eyes scanning up and down your body. “Shitty luck really. I got bored quickly and decided to let the crew have fun while I hung back to enjoy the peace an’ quiet. I wasn’t expecting entertainment to find me,” he snickered.

“I’m—“ you gasped as he dug the blade tip to your cheek, not quite cutting into you, maybe only really slicing the first or second layer of dermis. “I’m not a threat, ju-just please. Do-don’t hurt me. I did-dn’t want to be here in the fffirst place!”

Kid’s eyes narrowed but the sneer didn’t soften, “Who said anything about hurtin’ ya?”

That made your eyebrows shoot into your hairline, “Are you joking?”

“HAAH?!” he came down from the squat to kneel beside you, “Jus’ cause I kill people from time ta’ time don’t mean I don’t know when to separate business from pleasure,” his leer was gone, in its place a smirk that didn’t make you feel any safer. “What? Don’t think a big asshole like me knows how to fuck a lady all proper like?”

“Wh—at is h-happening?”

Kid’s smirk got wider, “I ain’t gonna kill ya because I’d rather fuck ya. Sound like a preferrable option?”

“I have a ch-choice?”

“Yeah! Inside or outside the ship?”

You choked out the sob that tried to escape your throat, letting out a low whimper instead.

“Awww don’t do that. I haven’t even done anything yet. I promise ya’ you’ll be moaning in a good way if you play nice.”

Defeated, you close your eyes and lay your head back with a nod, praying for it to be over quickly and not end painfully.

“Nooooooo I want you to want it,” Kid’s tone was taunting but with a softer edge. “It’s no fun if you’re not into it. I don’t want you to be scared of me. I want you to beg for me when you realize you can’t get enough of me.”

Your face flushed with color, brain muddled with confusing feelings. Through your thoughts your eyes wandered over his bare body. His sculpted physique was barely covered by his feathered coat and loose hanging pants. The cloth belt didn’t hide the dark red happy trail that slipped along his lower abs.

His dry chuckle brought you back, “Like what you see?”

You nodded truthfully.

“Good, I like your honesty,” he praised you, lowering the blade and brushing his knuckles softly against your skin. His hand moved down your body, not quite touching you, until you felt the blade tip against your soft torso, just below your top. With deliberately slow motions, Kid brought the blade through the top and your bra. Ruined fabric fell to the sides as your breasts spilled out, Kid licked his lips before pulling back entirely.

“I like yer tits too,” he grinned with a wink before tossing the blade off to the side, quite far from where you had any hopes of reaching it.

He pulled his belts off first, then his boots, lastly sweeping the massive coat from off his shoulders and to the floor. With fluid motions he moved your body to lay over the coat and the warmth had a calming effect on you almost immediately. His musky scent clung to the air: oil, metal, iron, aftershave – you felt lightheaded as the smell overwhelmed you, lulling you into a sense of comfort.

Kid knelt over your body once more, arms and legs caging you in between his body, leaning close until he pressed his growing erection against your hip. You let out a slight jolt from the heaviness of it as he pressed his searing hot chest against your exposed breasts, flattened beneath him as he pinned you to the deck. Slowly pressing the air out of you as you started lightly gasping.

“How about it? Wanna…fuck around? I’ll make it good for ya.”

You felt yourself nodding rapidly, bewitched by his domineering presence. He rose slightly and reached his arm between your bodies to unfasten your shorts, pushing them down and off before he unzipped his own pants. His hand stayed as he teased himself first before lifting his glistening fingers to your lips. Precum.

Without wasting a second, your tongue darted out to lick his essence.

“That’s a good pet.”

His crimson lips smashed into yours, his hands palmed and squeezed your breasts, his knees barely holding the bulk of his weight as he began lightly grinding on you. You let out a gaspy moan only to be taken by his tongue as it greedily shoved its way inside your mouth. Little grunts and whimpers spilled from your lips as Kid’s fingers danced along your body, creeping lower and lower until they crept over the waistband of your panties.

When you made no signs of distress, his hand slid over your covered mound and his painted fingers pushed against your soaked core, feeling the sheer volume of slick spilling from you. Rubbing it slowly, his fingers finally gave you relief as he pushed the pantie roughly to the side and ran up and down your slit, spreading your wetness to make a mess.

“Heh, knew you’d like me,” Kid kissed you as he slipped one, then two fingers inside of you. Reaching deep inside you to find your sweet spot. He let out a pleased hiss as your pussy clenched around his fingers as he explored you, his thumb reaching around to press down on your clit and rub circles over it. Your whimpering became higher pitched as your body threatened to succumb to the carnal pleasure he was rushing into you.

You creamed on his hand as he teased out your first orgasm, pumping his fingers as you rode the wave and stilled them when you came down.

“Did ya like that?” he asked you, and it was the first time you didn’t hear malice or mockery in his voice. You panted out a yes, surprised yourself with your answer. “Gotta do that a few times so you can take my cock.”

Fully naked, your body was covered in sweat and your own slick, and Kid still hadn’t taken his pants off. Your legs were quivering as he withdrew his head from between your thighs, panties long discarded and missing in action.

“I think you’re ready. You taste like sweet desperation.”

You nodded dumbly as you watched him stand and drop his pants and underwear, slightly stumbling as he kneeled over you. You watched his cock dangle from his position, the engorged head dripping with precum and throbbing for you.

Kissing and sucking your breasts before trailing to your jaw, he whispered below your ear, “Anything you wanna say t’me?”

You hummed in lightheaded confusion, trying to contemplate his question through the haze of bliss.

The feeling of his tip pressing against your pelvis jolted you back to the moment as it slowly dragged over you, grazing against you slick covered clit. You could swear your clit vibrated in yearning as your hips tilted for more friction. He moved fluidly enough to not give you what you want while still teasing you and leaving a trail of precum on your skin.

Clarity struck you, “P-please Kid. I want you so bad. I want your cock in me so fucking much! Yo-you can’t stop now!”

Kid chuckled, “You sure?”

“Yes! FUCK please I’ll do anything! Just split me open!!” you cry out, flustered and embarrassed.

The puffy head slipped past your needy hole and you let him slide in with little resistance. Mouth opened in pleasure but no sound coming out as you felt the thick, veiny dick pushing into you – realizing just then but not really caring that he wasn’t wearing a condom.

He let out a hum that turned into a growl as he pushed in until he was completely sheathed in your warmth. Rocking into you a few times as pleased cries tumbled from your mouth, he finally spoke.

“Anything huh? I’ll need to think about that…”

You felt him pull out until the head of his cock was just slipping out before he slammed back into you, “Anything is so broad, what am I looking for?” he spoke to himself, you being so cockdrunk you were more like a sleeve, unable to conjure an answer even if you tried.

As you came violently against his cock, he stopped his movements to say, “I know, I want to keep you. What say you?” and began grinding into you as your body spasmed from the overstimulation.

You were in too deep, unsure if you truly had a choice in the matter since the moment your back hit the floor. Still on the floor as the menace above you rocked your world repeatedly as if to point out what you’d be missing if you said no. Choice or no choice, your body answered for you as the overstimulation he drove into you forced another blissful orgasm from you.

“YYYEEEEEESSSSS!!!” you sobbed from the pleasure and pain, your fear overtaken by lust induced mania. Your hips slammed against his as you came, wrapping your ankles around his hips to keep him inside you so you could drown in the constant high. “YES I WANT THIS I WANT YOU I NEED YOU!!!!!” your voice went hoarse.

Kid let out a moan as he threw his head back, “Fuck yes, I’m glad you see it my way,” he rocked his hips fiercely against yours, grabbing your ass with bruising force as he fucked you. The sound of squelching should have been embarrassing but you were too blissed out to notice or care, on the cusp of another orgasm as he was grinding his cock against your g-spot.

“I’ll treat you good, pet,” he promised, holding you down and rutting into you before letting out his own cry. You cried out with him as you saw white flood over you and static buzzing overtake your senses. Your body shaking as he came in you and you came on him. Then you could feel warmth spreading through you, coming from where you were connected. Kid panted as he pressed his forehead into yours as he finally stilled his hips. He slowly kissed your face and lips as he pulled himself out of you.

“Just gotta make it official,” he gave you a tired but mischievous smirk.

You were too exhausted to react, hardly flinching as you felt his calloused fingers playing with the cum that was leaking out of you. He brought his dripping fingers to your pelvis and drew a ‘K.’ He repeated the motion to draw ‘K’s on your breasts, hips, cheeks, all over your body. You could feel the cum harden on your skin as it dried out while he worked.

“There. You’re mine now. Don’t you ever fucking forget it.”

[rosepascal]

Pick up || Agent Whiskey x Reader

summary: Hooking up with a chick at a rock concert? More like fucking a cowboy in a pick up truck.

warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI, afab!reader, dirty talk, reader rides whiskey, fingering, handjob, swearing, he slaps your ass once.

a/n: here is my entry for @iamasaddie moodboard writing thingy. I've never written whiskey before so uhhh hope u like it!!

You just met the guy and he was hard to resist with that stupid cowboy hat and tight ass jeans. Normally that cocky kind of confidence was not your thing.

You've dealt with many a guy who think they're gods gift to women when in reality they're nothing but carbon copies of the same douchebag.

But he was hot and truthfully you were looking for a good fuck and if that bulge in his jeans wasn't a good enough indication then it was the way women seemed to fawn over him. Already knowing his name and shamelessly begging him for one more night.

After drinking enough alcohol to make your brain all fuzzy you were dead set on getting fucked by that cowboy tonight. Jack was all fucking for it. Hot and bold, he doesn't need to charm his way when you're already ready to take his cock down your throat. He smirks as he leans closer to you. His arm resting right near your head as he makes a show of looking you up and down.

"Howdy cowboy," You flick the top of his hat and he chuckles.

"Howdy, darlin'." He sneaks his hand to your back and you don't mind it.

"So you really a cowboy? Because I heard cowboys like to play a little rough." You tug on his leather jacket and press your chest against his. Looking up with lustful eyes.

"Wanna find out?" He brushes his lips against your cheek and your eyes flutter closed.

The two of you are stumbling out of the bar, his lips can't stay off your neck or shoulder as you struggle to stay on your feet. You spot a pick up truck sitting towards the back of the lot.

"A truck, what no horse?" You tease as he grabs your ass shamelessly.

"Oh I've got a horse alright." He purrs as he walks you to his car. He opens the door for you but you gesture for him to get in instead. His eyes light up as he realizes what you want.

"Can't wait for me can you?" You don't say a word as you climb onto his lap. He puts the seat back to give you more room and wastes no time in helping you out of that dress.

"Fuck sweetheart," He groans as you grind your hips.

He squeezes your tits making you moan. Teasing the nipple as he runs his hands along your body and back up to your chest. You play with his belt buckle and he shimmies out of his jeans and boxers. His cock springs free and damn he wasn't joking when he said he had a horse.

You spit in your hand and wrap it around his cock. Watching as he leans back and groans in pleasure. It's hard and leaking and ready to be buried in your cunt. He grabs your face and pulls you down in a messy kiss. His hands move further down until he slips two fingers inside of your cunt. You moan into his mouth and he lets you bury your face in his shoulder. He's fucking your cunt mercilessly with his fingers. His lips kiss and bite along your neck.

"Fuck I need you." You whine. He takes his fingers out and grabs a condom from the cup holder of his car.

"Think you can ride baby?" His thumb rubs circles into your hip. "Absolutely." You grab his hat and place it on your head. He grins as he helps guide your hips down on his cock. His eyes shut in pleasure as you sink down all the way. Taking all of him at once.

"Oh fuck darlin', so fucking tight." Your hands rest on his shoulders as you bounce on his cock. He's got one hand on your ass and the other squeezing one of your boobs.

"You're so big." You whine as you grind your hips back and forth, loving the feeling of his dick hitting deep inside of you.

"I'm from Texas baby."

"Alright-" You're cut off by a loud moan as he bucks his hips up. Smirking as you bury your face in his shoulder.

"Ah ah, I wanna hear you." He grabs your chin and forces you to look him in the eye as he starts to fuck up into you. Whimpers fall from your lips as you bounce with his hips, wanting him as deep as you can.

"Fuck fuck!" Your legs burn but you're too overwhelmed with pleasure to care.

"Come on darlin', let me feel you come on my cock." Your legs shake as you finally break.

Your cunt clenches around him and he groans as he recklessly fucks his hips up. Chasing his high, you're soaking wet and so fucking warm it doesn't take long until he's coming hard. You rest your forehead against his and he gently runs his hands up and down your back. His cowboy hat is slipping off your head and he fixes it. He bites his lips as he takes in your naked body and his hat sitting on your head.

"So, want to come back to my place? Don't think you've shown me enough yet." He snorts as he takes his hat back.

"Darlin' you can barely sit up without my help." He leans closer and slaps your ass suddenly.

"But if you think I'm not rough enough here, just wait till you're in my bed. I'll have you screaming my name and shaking, fuck you until you can't remember anything but what my cock feels like." You moan softly at his words, your thighs pressing together to give yourself some relief.

"Bring it cowboy."

[nn-ee-zz]

Hello!

Your art is so gorgeous and inspirational!

Do you have any tips on drawing body horror and character design? When I've tried to design some characters with body horror they all end up looking rather friendly 😅

Hope you have a lovely day and thanks in advance!

Thank you! I'm happy to hear that! Here goes!

NEZ GUIDE TO BODY HORROR

(Disclaimer; this is my advice, not rules. Break them as you wish)

Despite not doing it on purpose, a lot of my art is tagged as body-horror. I've embraced it. Here are my 3 pillars for frightening art. I don't have to follow them all at once, at least one is enough.

Nature

Get inspired by nature. Not necessarily by gore and wounds, but by things that look normal in one context but might appear unsettling in another. A great example is my pumpkin creature; everyone has seen the insides of a pumpkin but adding that texture to a living body made everyone react more strongly to it. I highly recommend natural things with strange textures and patterns (especially seeds)

Book Recommendation; The Art and Science of Ernst Haeckel

I recently bought this for all the gorgeous pattern and creature drawings. It's a beautiful book for those who want to draw horror based on nature. Careful if you have tyrophobia, this has some INTENSE patterns.

Subtlety

In either execution or concept.

In execution; give the drawing other recognizable characteristics. The gore is NOT them, it's just part of them. An example would be my cowboy creature. They have the coat, the hat, the boots, the smile...and then you notice the heads. Give your character more than their frightening parts.

In concept; If you want the bright reds and obvious gore, follow one simple concept. In the example below, the concept was a wound surrounded by mushrooms. That is all. If I were to add 'but also mushrooms leave their eyes, and bloody tears fall from them, and they have gashes in their skin, and'' it would have made the impact of all of those concepts collapse. Like a bed of nails. The more nails you add, the less a single individual nail will hurt.

Feeling

It follows the theme above. I noticed horror works better when it's not an abudance but also when it's relatable. I've seen people react more intensely to an animated character brushing a line of yarn against their eyeball than an animated character having their head explode in blood, brains, and bone. You can draw from emotional feelings as well, turning your mental pain into a physical manifestation of it.

This is not a must follow because I do plenty horror art without being vulnerable nor making myself uncomfortable, I just notice people react when they can relate and feel it too.

I hope it helps anon!