#drabble prompt: cowboy boots

[violetpixiedust]

part 2 to this drabble, can also be read as a stand-alone. billy the kid x innocent! burlesque! reader. smut. (18+) ౨ৎ

warm candlelight bathes your small boarding room in a honey amber shade, emitting molten sunlight. billy’s glossy eyes hold the spring skies as he gazes up at you, entranced as your now loose locks tumble down your shoulders, free of any accessories. your stage makeup has since been wiped down to a less intense look, only accentuating your favourite features.

billy still reckons you look like an angel.

he’s sat at the edge of your double bed, dipping into the tough mattress. his denim clad legs are spread shoulder width apart, boots unlaced- hat, suspenders and gun holster strewn to the side table. a tense breath leaves him as your near bare figure straddles his hips, serene silhouette decorated with lacy lingerie. your manicured hand slips between the open lapels of his half unbuttoned shirt, palm laying flat against his heart, feeling the steady thump, thump, thump, quicken with every moment that passes. butterfly wings tickle your ribs causing you to shiver lightly, billy’s calloused fingertips dancing up the outsides of your spine as your sides meld within the curve of his thumbs.

you gently lead him to lie down, releasing an airy soprano sigh when you feel the brunette man harden against the lace of your panties, arching your back. billy unconsciously bucks his hips up, desperately torn between wanting to take his time with you- as difficult as it may be for a man like him, and wanting to ruin you. one of his sun-kissed hands brush up the length of your arm, a whisper of a smile ghosting his chapped lips as he cups your petal soft face within his rough palm. you follow him down, a joint moan intertwining within the approaching autumn air as your lips finally connect. you taste of sweet liqueur, something floral and bubbly, while the sharp taste of billy’s cheap whisky cuts through your kiss, prompting your nimble fingers to begin unbuttoning the rest of the man’s indigo shirt.

“wearing too many clothes, cowboy.” a teasing giggle leaves your stained lips, causing billy to smirk in amusement before he helps you remove his top, quickly discarding it to the hardwood floor. you can’t help but bite along the plush skin of your bottom lip when your warm gaze meets the sight of his toned, tanned muscle. from his shoulders, to his biceps, his torso.. billy tilts his forehead down to touch yours, forcing your eyes to meet his.

“not gettin’ shy on me now, are ya, doll?” you try shaking your head, but the steady weight of billy’s large hand against the back of your neck stops you from doing so. he stares at you intensely, and you realize he’s waiting for a verbal confirmation.

“no.” it’s meek, unbelievable. you try again, straightening your posture as best you can in his hold as you tremble within yourself, anticipation crackling between the two of you like a bonfire. “no, billy.”

he kisses you again, devouring you this time, seeming pleased by your answer. you can’t help but moan softly against his lips, twisting your fingers within his greasy locks as his tongue brushes into your open mouth. billy swears he’s never been in the presence of a woman as angelic as you, convinced he’s dreaming as you melodically moan his name like a prayer.

it isn’t until he’s stripped down to his drawers, kissing down the column of your daisy scented throat- simultaneously leaving a path of stubble burn in his wake, that your small hand brushes past his abdomen. you feel his strong thighs jerk below you at the feeling of your gentle fingertips along his privates, whisky breath hot against your jugular as he groans deep within his throat. “don’ have to do that, angel- i-“ you’re already sliding down to your knees, sure to get splinters from the old hardwood below you, but it’s worth it to see billy’s eyes roll back into his skull at the sight of you. praying at his alter. he wants to tell you that you shouldn’t have to do this. that sweet girls like you deserve to be treated with respect and pampered endlessly, taken care of just like his paw taught him- but billy’s not a strong man, not when it comes to restraining himself from getting what he desires. he’s never been able to.

your heart is beating in your ears as you carefully peel back the final layer, doe eyes fluttering when you finally meet the sight of it. it’s the prettiest one you’ve ever seen by far, out of the two previous. rosy at the tip, a bit paler compared to the rest of billy’s complexion, dark curls smattering the base, a touch wild. long. a pearly bead of ivory dribbles down his mushroom tip, and you can’t help but catch it with the tip of your soft tongue before it’s wasted, shivering at the salty taste. a startled moan escapes the man above you, thighs jerking as a shuttered breath rattles through him. “oh fuck, honey. d-do that again-“

the crotch of your panties become slick at the whining melody of billy pleading for your touch, your mind slowly fading away as you fleetingly attempt to remember what your burlesque sisters had taught you. no teeth, hollow cheeks, wet lips, and don’t forget, relax your throat- you lick a stripe up the base of the man in front of you, eager to please. billy can’t help but white knuckle the sheets below him, expression twisting as he restrains himself from thrusting up into the haven of your warm, wet mouth. you feel like heaven. languid, attentive-

it isn’t until he’s halfway between your lips that you suck, and he’s instantly scrambling.

“shit, shit, shit- h- honey- get off.” billy manages to groan out, pulling your tight little mouth off of him before he accidentally blows his load. a growl barely hides itself in the back of his throat when he hears you whine at the loss of him, unable to stop himself from manhandling you back onto the bed as you squeak. “need these off, doll. please.”

it’s quiet for a moment- besides the rustling of the earth past the smudged window, a few drunken howls from down below disappearing into the inky sky. you cup billy’s face despite his large hand encasing your wrist, watching as his pleading expression fades into delight when you nod giddily. his fingers toy with the satin closure of your bra, searching your hazy gaze for any hesitance before pulling, undoing the flimsy garment. billy has half the foresight to haphazardly toss the lacy piece of clothing away, narrowly missing the flame of a candlestick as his cobalt eyes shamelessly rake over your frame. he can’t help but run his calloused hands over the smooth mounds of your chest, tentatively squeezing, before his thumbs flick your nipples experimentally. the outlaw’s lips part in awe as your back arches perfectly in response, hungrily kissing up your sternum with soft breaths in between, toned arms curling behind your back to keep up his loving assault. “christ, angel. you’re perfect-“ he mumbles against your chest, eyes falling closed as you rake your nails over his shoulders, travelling up his neck, before finally scratching his scalp in a way that has his pelvis thrusting into the empty comfort of your cotton sheets, hissing. “need to taste you.”

a trembling moan escapes your swollen lips at billy’s raspy declaration. you had only heard stories from your burlesque sisters about men who put their mouths on women there. it was foreign to you. a feeling you couldn’t possibly imagine until billy hooks his fingers beneath your lacy panties, gently kissing down your tummy as if you were made of glass, till he was able to pull the skimpy fabric down at eye level. you hear him swear, quickly pushing yourself up onto your elbows before he meets your eyes, sky blue now steel grey with desire. wordlessly, he licks a stripe between your folds.

you’re hooked. caught within billy’s trap when his tongue swirls around the pearl of your clit with precision, alighting your being with shameless desire for the man below you. your soprano moans fill the night air as your thighs shamelessly lock around billy’s ears, his strong arms anchoring around the muscles to keep you in place. “fuck. y’taste like peaches.” billy mumbles blissfully against your pussy, devouring you like a man starved. you can’t help the ringing in your ears, the blood pumping to your core as your hips helplessly arch into the outlaw’s face, his large nose brushing just where you need him the most, sending you over the edge.

billy groans at the sweetness that emits from your core, lapping it up as best he could without completely losing his rapidly withering restraint. “need you inside of me, billy.” the outlaw’s neck nearly cracks with how quickly he looks up at you. you’re ethereal. a light glow of mist dusting your complexion, illuminated by the ever dying candlelight. he watches as your lashes flutter gradually, practically fanning through sticky molasses. billy nods, placing a final few kisses up the inside of your thighs- barely hiding his smirk when you twitch with sensitivity- your torso, till he reaches your lips, whispering as gently as his baritone voice would allow him to.

“lay back.”

you want to be consumed by billy forever, you think, fleetingly.

you just don’t know that the outlaw is already doing everything in his power to make it so.

[dameronscopilot]

restless

Rhett Abbott x f!reader

summary: Rhett's far too anxious before tonight's rodeo, but you know just how to calm him down.

word count: 900+

rating: 18+ explicit

content: NSFW, smut, oral sex, face fucking, praise kink

SENSORY DRABBLES SERIES -> prompt: Rhett Abbott + leather + orange

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, baby.”

Rhett’s voice is muffled as he presses a fist to his mouth, dirt sliding beneath his boots as he slumps against the side of the trailer. With one hand curled around his thigh and the other hooked in one of his belt loops, you continue to mouth at the front of his jeans, tracing the thick lines of his straining erection, the denim rough against your tongue. 

His cowboy hat grazes your shoulder as it falls from his head and lands on the ground, and you glance up to find him bathed in the dull orange glow of the parking lot lights above, eyes closed and lips slightly parted as he drags a hand through his tousled hair. You have half a mind to tell him how pretty he looks like this—putty in your hands, the veins along his forearm bulging as he grasps the neck of his vest, neck muscles straining, the edges of his curls tinged in gold. 

The dichotomy between the needy, panting man above you and the determined, ruthless one he’ll soon become when he climbs atop tonight’s bull is enough to take your breath away. 

It’s risky, kneeling on the ground and palming Rhett’s cock through his pants in the narrow gap between two trailers while the lively chatter of the rodeo is just a stone’s throw away. But he’s been thrumming with an uncharacteristic edge of anxiety since he stepped out of the truck—there’s too much riding on tonight’s standings. And without much time to spare, this is the one surefire way you could think of to get him to relax. 

Fingers grasping the cool metal of the large buckle blocking your path, the scent of leather mingles with the warm, musky notes of Rhett’s cologne as you undo his belt and unzip his pants. A low groan rumbles in his throat when you reach into his boxers, pulling out his cock. The thick shaft is slightly curved and flushed red in your hands, hot and pulsing with need, and you can feel him shiver beneath your touch as you swipe the pad of your thumb through the precum dripping from the tip.

If you were at home, sprawled out across your rumpled sheets, you’d take your time with him, cupping his balls and massaging his inner thighs as you slowly ease his length into the back of your throat. He’ll never outright admit it, but it’s what he craves—when you edge him till he’s at your mercy and shaking with need, muscles tense and voice hoarse as he begs you for reprieve. 

Despite the firm set of his shoulders and serrated edge of his attitude by day under Wyoming’s vast blue skies, the Rhett Abbott that most people see, there’s a weariness when he hangs up his hat by the doorway some nights, a stumble to his step as he kicks off his boots.

And it’s those nights that he needs you most—needs this most—even if he doesn’t know how to say it. How to ask for it.

But there’s no time for finesse, not with the announcer droning on in the background, the time for Rhett to saddle up drawing near. So you drop all pretense of teasing, eliciting a choked out sound from him as you part your lips and immediately take his cock deep into the wet heat of your mouth.

“Oh fuckin’ hell…” Rhett drawls, gently bucking his hips into your touch.

He’s holding back—you can feel it in the way his thigh muscles are straining from the effort. 

“Fuck my mouth, Rhett.”

The hitch in his breath is audible, and one of his palms slaps against the trailer.

“I wanna fuck you,” he groans, slowly driving his cock further down your throat. 

You back off his shaft, glancing up at him with a wink. “Later.”

Rhett nods, slightly dazed as he stares down at you transfixed while you run your tongue along the head and mouth your way down his length with your spit-soaked lips.

“C’mon, Rhett. Use me,” you urge him, gripping the backs of his thighs.

And it’s then that his barely-leashed restraint snaps, his hips snapping forward as he thrusts his cock past your parted, waiting lips. You stare up at him as he fucks your mouth, because you know it drives him crazy—watching a sloppy trail of spit slide down your chin, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as he holds your head while he slams into the back of your throat. 

“That’s my fuckin’ good girl,” he rasps, sounding more than a little wrecked already.

Rhett’s too keyed up to last long tonight, so you’re not surprised when he moans as his cock begins to pulse, filling your mouth with a hot load of his seed. You swallow his salty spend just as he pulls you to your feet, all traces of restlessness and unease gone from his blue eyes when he bites his lower lip and smiles, swiping a drop of cum from your lower lip with his thumb before leaning in to kiss you softly. 

As your lips slide against his, you card your hands through his hair, only to pull away and bend down once you realize what’s missing. You swipe his hat off of the ground, and Rhett raises an eyebrow when you swiftly bypass his bowed head, placing it atop your own.

“Honey…” he drawls.

You grin, tipping the brim of the hat at him before waltzing away and calling back over your shoulder, “Yeah, yeah. I know the rules. You better win tonight, Abbott.”

—

Comments, reblogs, and/or asks are always appreciated!

» RHETT ABBOTT MASTERLIST

[bradshawsbaby]

‘freezing fingers’ and ‘snowball fights’ is very rhett coded to me

They are indeed! I actually wrote a Rhett fic very similar to these prompts! But I’ll give you a little drabble, too! ❄️

You couldn’t feel your fingers by the time you came barreling through the back door of your small ranch house, laughter spilling out of your mouth and bouncing off the low wooden beams of the kitchen ceiling as you kicked your boots off, snow spraying in every direction.

“Gotcha,” Rhett chuckled lowly, his voice wrapping around you like a warm blanket as his arms encircled your waist from behind, pulling you against his chest.

“Mmm, but I beat you inside, so I’m the winner,” you grinned impishly, turning around and wrapping your arms around his neck. Lifting one hand, you used your still-numb fingers to brush snowflakes off his cowboy hat.

“Always so competitive,” Rhett smirked, shaking his head as he looked down at you.

“You’re just feeling sour because I beat you to the house and I beat you in that snowball fight,” you laughed, stepping out of his arms just so that you could unzip your puffy winter coat, which was coated in snow from the shots your husband had managed to get in.

Rhett shook his head again, following your lead and unzipping his own snow-covered coat, hanging it on the peg on the wall along with his hat before toeing off his boots. “Debatable if you beat me. Some of those shots were pretty weak,” he teased, blue eyes sparkling when he winked at you.

“What can I say? I lost feeling in my fingers,” you shot back with a smile, holding up your bare hands.

You’d just gone outside with the intention of grabbing a few more logs from the shed for the fireplace, but when you’d seen your husband trudging home through the snow, you hadn’t been able to resist a good old-fashioned snowball fight.

“They’re freezin’,” Rhett murmured, pulling off his gloves with his teeth and taking your hands between his larger, calloused ones. “Shoulda put your gloves on,” he chided gently.

“Where’s the fun in that? I’d much rather have you warm me up,” you smirked, curling your fingers against his palms.

Rhett just smiled and gave you that look that told you he was going to take very good care of you.

Winter Vibes for Lew Characters

[velvethopewrites]

Day 5 of @starcrosseddeancas Dreamydrabbles - today’s prompt was “Cowboy Boots” and I tried something a bit different (it’s all dialogue!). I also went over by about 11 words. 😭 I know, I know, there are no drabble-police here, but I really was trying to stay within the word count! Ah, c’est la vie. Many thanks to the brilliant @fellshish for encouraging me 😘 as I was about to give up posting.

“Cas, you should get some new shoes.”

“What’s wrong with the pair I have?”

“They’re very…tax accountant.”

“Dean, Jimmy was not a-”

“I know, Cas. But, just like, think about it? You’re almost completely human now, you need comfortable shoes.”

“I think I might like a pair of jogging shoes, like Sam.”

“What? No way! Boots, dude. Boots, all the way. In fact…”

“Dean?”

“Ah-hah! I do have an old pair. Try these babies on for size. We can always get you a new pair later.”

“Dean, these are cowboy boots.”

“Yeah? And? What’s your point?”

“I am not a cowboy.”

“You’re not a runner either but you wanted ‘jogging’ shoes. I think you’re afraid of looking too ho—. Um, too fashionable. Yeah. Hey, don’t tilt and squint at me. Trust me.”

“They feel cumbersome.”

“Um. Ooookay. Maybe you’re right, maybe you shouldn’t wear cowboy boots.”

“Dean? Are you alright? You seem flushed.”

“We’ll get you jogging shoes instead, buddy.”

[sommerregenjuniluft]

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This is a story about two boys raised by the sun. Florida heat, being a teenager, best friends and how falling in love works when you've already loved them for as long as you can remember. — [ heavily insp by Dominic Fike’s song Ant Pile/the Sunburn album fic tag on tumblr ]

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feel free to come yell at me about any of these:) also haikyuu, jjk, atla, aftg, httyd or anything in general really<3

[garbinge]

Midnight Movie

Tommy Miller x F!Reader

From these April Prompts: “Midnight showing of a movie”

Summary: Tommy decides to surprise you with a midnight showing of your favorite movie in the Jackson commune. 

A/N: Tommy Miller is my comfort cowboy and I will not be taking any further questions, thank you. 

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Fluff! ( I know shocking from the angsty queen but this is just a sweet lil fic) 

TLOU Taglist: @iraot​ @justreblogginfics @drabbles-mc

“Baby, wake up.” Tommy shook you lightly to stir you awake. 

You shot up from the movement, instantly going into fight or flight mode. The grip you placed on Tommy was strong and defensive and your legs were ready to run but seemed to misstep in the chaoticness of you shooting out of bed. His hands grasped your arms, his grip solid on you but more in a grounding way. “You’re alright, I got you.” His voice was soft and without a second thought your body immediately relaxed at his voice. 

“Jesus.” A whisper escaped as your head fell down in exhaustion and your grasp on him lightened as you realized it was Tommy and not a intruder. You let your hands to linger on his arms, feeling the flex of his muscles even through the denim winter coat he had on. The time on the clock next to your bed was 12:10AM, you could still feel the cold on his jacket which meant he just got in, another evening patrol shift that had gone over time which likely meant infected or raider sightings. Tommy had been off overnight duty for a while now, but never shied away from the evening/end of day shifts. All a part of making the commune work.

You let out a sigh as you came to it, your heart slowly racing from the jump scare. 

“I didn’t mean to scare ya,” a light chuckle left Tommy’s mouth, a hand coming to cup the side of your face before he went back to his original hold on you. 

“Your shift ran over.” The bed creaked as you brought yourself back down to sit at the edge, bringing your one leg up so you could be facing Tommy as he plopped down next to you.

“My group found tracks, had to see it through, ended up being a herd of moose.” You frowned at that, knowing moose tended to be solitary animals. Tommy must’ve read your mind and quickly responded. “They must be adaptin’ to the ways of the world or whatever. Safer to travel in packs.” A shrug fel from his shoulders and you nodded, still half asleep and trying to wake up.

“Glad you’re okay.” You rested your forehead on his. 

“Come on, I woke you up because I got somethin’ to show ya.” The smile on his face grew as he stood up, his hand traveling down your arm and moving to grip your hand. His fingers intertwined with yours, the chill from his touch waking you up fully now. 

“Tommy!” You called his name out at a loud whisper. “We’re going to wake up Ellie and Joel!” 

The two had been staying at your place since they had arrived a month ago, there were plenty of other houses available, but Tommy insisted they stay here for a bit, until they get a lay of the land. You were completely on board, it was rare and in between that life before the outbreak found a way of coming back so you knew you had to relish at the opportunity.

“They’ll be fine, now.” Tommy’s texan accent coming in strong as he excitedly pulled you through your home. “Here, put your jacket on.” All the lights were off in the house, so as you stood in the entry way the only light shining through was coming in from outside, from the moon. Tommy was throwing the coat over your back, as you swiftly slid your boots on. He was moving so eagerly that you barely had time to get your jacket on before he was pulling the front door open. 

“W–where are we going?” You asked frantically as you slid your arms into your coat and buttoned it up as the cold wind snuck its way into the house. Stepping rapidly you ran up to him and closed the door, quickly but quietly so as to not wake your guests. Tommy stood tall in the doorway on the porch looking down at you as you looked up at him, confusion all over your face. “You gonna spill the beans or what?” Your eyebrows raised and arms crossed as you shivered. The snow was flurrying lightly, which felt like everyday weather in the Wyoming winter but the wind was a bit harsher tonight than usual and despite your coat and boots, you weren’t exactly dressed for it. 

“Do you trust me?” Tommy had a smirk on his face that was practically screaming don’t trust me. But he was your person, your crazy cowboy, these last years with Tommy were what people dreamed of pre-outbreak, and you were lucky enough to experience it now. In this beautiful little town. You took a deep breath as you rolled your eyes. 

“Of course I trust you, Miller.” A smile formed on your face. Tommy gave one right back, extended his hand out to you and nodded his head towards the main street of Jackson. With an exhale, you grabbed his hand and squeezed it tight. “Alright, cowboy, let’s go.” 

With that, you two were off. Despite the frigid air, Jackson was beautiful, especially at this time of night. The silent sound of snow falling with the white noise of the dam faint in the background was everything to you. One of your favorite things pre-outbreak and now you got to experience it for months straight. Even with the snow, the stars could be seen, the mountains in the landscape were breathtakingly large, covered with snow caps and trees. It was gorgeous, and you couldn’t help but think every single time you’d look around how lucky you were to come across the little town of Jackson in the middle of the end of the world. The string lights hung around the village were romantic even though the true purpose of them was for guidance, it gave the street a bit of ambience,  even when it wasn’t populated with people it just gave off a warm and inviting aura. 

As you trekked through the center street where all the main buildings of use sat, the laundry, the trade shop, the house of worship, schools, everything you could think of, your arm linked with Tommy’s. There was slightly less urgency as you two walked, but you could tell this wasn’t just an evening stroll. Just as you were about to ask him what this was all about, he spoke up. 

“Alright now, close your eyes.” 

Your protests began immediately. “Tommy!” You drawed out his name and let your shoulders fall eager to find out what was happening. 

“C’mon. You said you trust me, remember?” 

You closed your eyes and let your head fall back impatiently. There was a moment where you felt a small amount of heat in front of you and you raised your arms up to try and get your bearings. Your hands were met with Tommy’s body, he placed his own hands on your face, bringing it back forward from your immature response. 

“You’ll find out what the surprise is soon, miss grumpy.” Before you could argue against the nickname, your lips were being met with his. His mustache was covered in snow, the cold jolting you straight even as you melted into the kiss. Before getting lost further into the kiss, you pulled away to catch your breath, the cold front moving through your body taking the wind out of you for a minute. You took the opportunity to retort back to Tommy. 

“If you didn’t want me to be grumpy,” you caught your breath, “you shouldn’t wake me up in the middle of the night.” 

“I can take you back to the house.” His voice was dangerously low as he spoke so close to your face in efforts to tease you. “No surprise, no problem.” He raised his hands in surrender, keeping his forehead touching yours but backing his body up a couple steps.

“No, no, no.” You protested losing the body heat, immediately fighting to bring him closer. He let out a quiet laugh through his grin as his arms embraced you back. You now gazed up into his eyes, admiring the man in front of you. 

“Ay, I thought I told you to close your eyes.” He squinted as he caught you breaking his rule and he brought his hand up to jokingly cover your eyes. 

“They’re closed! They’re closed!” You called out in between laughs. 

Following directions, you kept your eyes closed, letting your other senses take over as he brought his lips back to yours. The scent of his body wash was extremely faded, covered by notes of the outdoors, light hints of fire and dirt, so only fragments of the fresh soap scent swiped past your nose as he kissed you. Tasting the coffee on his lips, likely from his patrol route to keep him alert, you let his tongue dance around your lips. Focusing in on the kiss, you heard the satisfying groan coming from Tommy’s throat as the kiss deepended, instinctually to pull him closer to you, you gripped his jacket and made him stumble forward, your hands moved to his coat pockets in a sad attempt to keep warm but also a way to keep him near.   

You both pulled away at the same time, leaning your heads against each other trying to catch your breath, both of your chests raising up and down, inhaling the cold air to your lungs. Your hands stayed in Tommy’s pockets as he looked down and laughed. 

“If you were that cold, you should have said somethin’.” He took his gloves off and took one hand out of his pocket at a time to place them on you, as oversized as they were, they did get the job done. 

“And miss an excuse to bring you closer to me?” You said placing them back in his jacket pockets with a grin. “Not a chance.” You moved him closer again. 

With a laugh, he brought his hands to your face. “You ready?” 

“As ever, cowboy.” You closed your eyes tight as he took your arm in his, guiding you in a new direction. He ushered you up the stairs to wherever he was taking you, directing you when to take a step, confirming that you were safe and steady. The warmth of the building you entered tickled down your body. You smelled something new inside, although it had a sense of familiarity to it, but you hadn’t smelled it in years. And that’s when it hit you, popcorn. The toasted, salty air was so welcoming, and when Tommy told you to open your eyes you practically felt like collapsing to the ground in awe. 

“Alright, baby,” He positioned you where you figured was right in the center of the surprise, “open your eyes.” 

The Tispy Bison frequently turned into the town cinema, there was a projector, there were string lights, and obviously food and drink but this was different. There was stovetop popcorn popping in the kitchen, the string lights were accompanied by homemade streamers and banners, near the front of the space there was an old reclining couch that replaced the full suite of folding chairs that usually were set up for movie night. The projector flipped on, your eyes moving to see Tommy now fidgeting with it anxiously, the film roll glitching on and off the sheet that served as a screen. You looked back at it and saw the title screen when it finally fully powered on. 

Little Women. 

The font gave away that it was the 1994 version, and more specifically, your favorite version. 

Surprised was an underwhelming way to describe what you were feeling right now, you were baffled, blown away and even those words felt like they were lacking description in how you truly felt. Your eyes scanned the rest of the room, seeing the little details that were added into the surprise. A snow cone machine, something from the 90s that was comparable to an EZ bake oven and likely didn’t work but you knew you’d have the time of your life trying to figure it out with Tommy. Tons of blankets and pillows tossed over the couch, a bar full of food, it was incredible. For a moment, as you gazed over everything you saw slight movement by the kitchen where the popcorn was popping and did a double take. Ellie quickly waved with a large smile on her face and elbowed Joel who seemed extremely focused on not burning the stovetop kernels. Joel shot a look to Ellie of annoyance before looking through the serving hatch and giving an awkward nod as a greeting. 

You smiled back and brought your hands to your heart to show your appreciation before looking back over the entire Tipsy Bison for Tommy to offer your gratitude in as many ways as possible. 

He snuck up from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist and you felt him lean down and let the side of his face touch yours, his lips resting right by your ear.

“Happy Birthday.” 

Your eyes closed the moment he whispered it to you. In awe that not only did he remember but had planned something so elaborate with the little resources the town had and offered up for special occasions. Usually birthdays were a cookie, of your choice, with a candle in it and a day free of responsibilities, and only if you were open to celebrating - many people didn’t like the attention. 

“How–” You froze on your words, “When–”, still trying to figure out what exactly you wanted to say to him. “Tommy.” Was the only thing you could find yourself to say as you turned around in his arms and hugged him tight. 

“You like it?” He asked as his arms tightened around your back.

“Are you kidding me? I love it.” 

“Ellie really helped me pull it together, and the town knows how much work you’ve been putting in around here. You skip your birthday every year, so they came ‘round pretty easily to a big celebration. Took ‘em some convincing to make it a more of an intimate party since everyone wanted to join the festivities, but” you felt him shrug as he looked around the bar. “I know it ain’t much but just figured you deserved to do somethin’ on your birthday.” 

“Tommy. This is incredible.” 

He blushed at your compliment. 

“I don’t think I had anything like this even pre-outbreak.” Your gaze went back around the room. “Wait,” your neck snapped to look back at him. “So the moose aren’t traveling in herds?” 

Tommy let out a belly laugh, baffled by how your mind worked. “No, I’m sorry to say that was a cover.” 

“Well, nights ruined.” You threw your hands up. “The moose don’t have friends.” 

Tommy laughed and brought you back in towards him. “The moose might not have friends but I do, I managed to trade for your favorite.” A bar of chocolate was now in front of your face and your mouth was watering. It had been easily a decade since you had chocolate, likely even more and that wasn’t the good stuff. In front of you, in Tommy’s hands, was a Hershey bar. It was probably way past the expiration date, but stale GOOD chocolate beat shitty fresh chocolate anyday. 

“Tommy Miller, you perfect, perfect, man.” 

[nayeliq1]

June 9th, prompt: Cowboy Boots

"Come on out, Cas!"

"Do I really have to?"

Cas' grumbled reply was muffled by the closed bathroom door between them.

"What? You sayin' you don't like the gift I got you? Don't be a baby, lemme see!"

The door opened, and out came Cas, visibly grumpy Angel of the Lord, dressed in his usual shirt and pants and- Dean's mouth fucking watered at the sight - a pair of brand new cowboy boots.

"I look ridiculous", Cas stated, squinting down at his feet in affront.

"You look-" Dean swallowed. Hot as Hell.

He could see the moment Cas picked up on the way Dean was staring at him, the tiniest of smiles forming at the corner of the angel's mouth and softening the annoyed crease in his brow.

Cas gave him a fond eye-roll, sighing theatrically.

"The things I do for love", he muttered, making Dean grin.

"Alright, Jaime Lannister." Dean crossed the distance between them, arms circling around Cas' waist. "Whine all you like, but those stay on."

For @starcrosseddeancas Dreamy Drabbles

[destielrotsmybrain]

June 9th - Cowboy Boots

He nearly tripped over it when he was leaving for a run.  Lying on the footpath outside Dean’s motel room door was a cowboy boot. 

A case in Texas had meant Dean insisting on them ‘dressing like locals’.  Which meant the three of them wearing cowboy boots, although Sam had drawn the line at wearing the hat too.  He’d also refused to watch more of Dean’s cowboy posturing after they’d finished and had let Dean and Cas head to a bar by themselves.  A move Sam now appreciated as signs pointed to Dean having been on a different hunt last night.  Poor Cas, having been stuck by himself as Dean tried to woo one of the local ladies.

Poor Cas, he thought again, staring at the evidence that Dean couldn’t wait to even get inside the motel room before starting to strip. 

…wait, wasn’t that Cas’s boot?

Prompt from starcrosseddeancas’  dreamy drabble writing challenge 😇🤠

[uhoh-spn]

It Started With a Cowboy

For the Dreamy Drabble Prompts

Also on Ao3

Prompt: Cowboy Boots

Fandom: Supernatural

It’s past midnight and Dean is sprawled out at the end of the bed, eyes glued to the tiny motel T.V. Sam is asleep, John is out, and an old Western show is playing.

A pair of cowboy boots appear on the screen. The camera pans slowly up the body of the man. His hip is cocked, the gun holster hitching up on one side. His jacket is open, revealing a button-down shirt, the collar open at the hollow of his throat. The camera continues up and rests on the man’s handsome face: a strong jawline, a full bottom lip, clear blue eyes, and thick, dark hair.

The storyline barely registers to him, he’s so focused on the cowboy. He tells himself he’s just admiring the costume, but he knows that’s not true. It’s the man’s body, his voice, his eyes that captivate him. And Dean is terrified.

[urne-buriall]

Dreamy Drabble Prompt: Cowboy Boots

While Dean sings Nancy Sinatra at karaoke (flat-pitched and under Jo's influence), Cas bites his cheek and hides a smile behind his palm.

These cowboy boots are made more for stumblin' their way home. Dean crashes, pleasantly drunk, onto the hall bench. Watches from beneath heavy eyelashes as Cas kneels and tugs each boot free. Cas catches it: the love in his eyes. His hand cups Dean's cheek, precursor to a tender kiss.

Cas doesn't sing in front of people. Never had a song he'd pick. Still, with boots in mind he thinks: Because you're mine, I walk the line.

prompts :: spirit of the west

[alfalfapie]

Dreamy Drabble Prompt Day 5: Cowboy Boots

“Ow,” Dean grumbled, looking at his feet.

“What’s wrong, Dean?” Cas looked up from his phone, where he had directions pulled up for “Lucky’s Cowboy Saloon”. After their latest hunt, Dean had suggested getting drinks at a local bar, and when they found this near their motel, Dean couldn’t resist. 

“Nothing, really,” Dean sighed. “It’s just that these boots are old as dirt and I keep putting off getting new ones.”

“Why?” Cas asked, tilting his head.

“You know, I really couldn’t tell you,” Dean laughed. “Just never really had the time, I guess.”

“Hmm,” Cas said, returning to his directions. “Siri says to take a right here.”

~~~

A week had passed, and Dean had mostly forgotten about the incident. But one morning, a shoe box appeared on his bedside table with a note that read “Every cowboy needs a pair of comfortable boots”, and if it took him a moment to collect himself before he slid on his new shoes, well no one needed to know about that.

[warynerd]

Aloha Cowboy, destiel, general, 100 words • For Doctor Sexy's (DVM) Dreamy Drabble Event, Prompt Five: Cowboy Boots

With an invitation to the Cuevas’ horse ranch, Dean’s decided they should get Cas something more appropriate for their visit.  

When his angel comes out of the dressing room, his first instinct is to hide his reaction. Then Dean reminds himself that they’re past that and whistles.  

“Looking good, Cas.”  

Cas’s new look features an authentic cowboy hat and, most importantly, cowboy boots.  

Cas tilts his head before, one hand on his hip, and tipping his hat.   

“That’s mighty kind of you, cowboy.”  

Fuck.  

Cas’s voice is practically a growl. Combined with the hat and boots, it leaves Dean speechless. 

[demigoddessqueens]

Based off this prompt from @thewriterwhowritesnot , I thought of a small drabble for cowboy Alucard

You had your reservations about this, given the dark night, ocean waves roaring nearby, and how far you all were from the city. The lights from the car shone on the sign in front of you.

“Tepes Tackle and Ranch”. Hopefully where we can all relax for the week, you thought to yourself. You felt Sypha lean into your shoulder for support. “Don’t think too much of it. You deserve a nice vacation after some time.” You turned to smile at her before Trevor’s voice interjected.

“Alright you lot, each grab a bag before it gets left behind. I’ve been driving for hours, and if I do more, I’ll crash.” Greta smirked over at the gruff voice. “Hope you keep some of that charm with our host this week.” Trevor nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders. “As long as the host isn’t some prick, that’s alright with me.”

Entering into the quaint, colonial style ranch house, you all saw a neatly written note sitting in the middle of the mahogany table in the living room.

“Hope your travels here were safe. Please enjoy the ranch facilities and your rooms before breakfast at 10.”

Well, this seemed like the best way for a host to introduce themselves.

In the morning, you woke early. The nerves and excitement from this place were catching up to you. Getting dressed for the day, you thought to kill some time before breakfast. As you walked outside the ranch’s premises, you took it all in. The barely risen sun, white waves crashing upon the rocks, and the salty sea air. Seemed like something truly off a post card.

As you walked along the way, you could hear the horses starting to stir for the morning. Making your way over to the barn, you carefully and casually entered the barn to admire them. You took your time admiring each of the breeds that nestled into your hand: Thoroughbreds, Clydesdales, palominos, Chestnuts, and many others.

A silken, yet dignified voice caught your attention. “You know…these creatures have been known to be such an excellent judge of character. And I would trust them on this.”

You turned to see the culprit of such a voice. Standing tall, otherworldly before was this…man. Tall, lean, a crisp white shirt and body hugging blue jeans that had a rope slinking to his hip side. The blonde waves held back by a bun as he strode in with a matching black hat and boots. And a face that rivaled the art of the Old West.

The first thought that came to your mind were the stories of cowboys from your books. And how they were in the films you used to watch. Dashing and daring heroes that seemed to be a figment only of imagination until now. You could feel yourself staring for what felt like an eternity. The man seem to catch on as he extended his hand in greeting.

“Adrian Tepes, keeper and owner of this ranch estate. Welcome.” You took his hand and prayed he couldn’t sense your racing pulse or the rising pink on your cheeks. “N-nice to meet you, Mr Adrian, sir.”

If this was how you were now, you hoped you didn’t fumble over yourself this much for the rest of the week.

[cuntynatural]

Cowboys are Frequently, Secretly Fond of Each Other

A drabble from my destiel strangers-to-lovers/cowboy au, posted on ao3. Chapter three should be out before July!! If you haven't yet, you should totally read chapters 1 and 2. Sneak-peek below!

'The woman squatted and pressed a pistol beneath Dean's chin. As Dean defiantly held contact with the woman's golden eyes, his father's voice rang in his head.

Too slow, Dean. Bobby let you go soft, didn't he? I wasted a soul on you, that's for sure.

The woman's pistol dug into Dean's neck, prompting him to stand.

The woman's ruby lips, who were second in luminosity only to her scarlet hair, curled into a cruel smile. She wore a leather jacket, crusted with what appeared to be blood, and a pair of black boots.

"Cowardice doesn't look good on you, handsome," She mocked with a fake pout.

"Abbadon," Dean growled.

A gruesome smile split Abbadon's face. "You remember me!"'

Continued in chapter three...

[ao3feed-destiel-02]

Cowboy Boots

Cowboy Boots https://ift.tt/5ojeqSR by VeraBAdler Prompt: Cowboy Boots Cas gets picked up in a bar. Words: 136, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 5 of Dreamy Drabbles Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester Additional Tags: Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Flirting, Beer via AO3 works tagged 'Castiel/Dean Winchester' https://ift.tt/CelPfYW June 09, 2023 at 09:17AM

[scarletsugars]

daisy’s library

all my most loved stories in one place<3

fluff ♡ smut ◍ angst ║

elizabeth olsen

wanda maximoff

breaststroke, breast… stroke ◍

little delicious accident ◍

my professor’s wife ◍

beckon ◍

no way home ♡ ◍

safe in your arms ♡

love in the dark 1 ♡

neighbours mama ♡ ◍

peach and vanilla ♡

strapwarming ◍

she's in your mind ◍

stephen doesn't have to know ◍

oscar isaac

marc spector

hazy ◍

where lust ends, and love begins ♡ ◍

relatively alright ♡ ◍

tag team ◍

steven grant

in you i find solace ♡ ◍

where lust ends, and love begins ♡ ◍

cheer me up before you go go ♡ ◍ ║

chocolate ♡ ◍

desirous ◍

fixed on you ◍

monday mornings ♡ ◍

cookies & cream ◍

tag team ◍

jake lockley

tag team ◍

the jake problem ◍

poe dameron

professor poe (series) ♡ ◍ ║

santi garcia

push & shove ◍

may calamawy

layla el-faouly

hazy ◍

pedro pascal

din djarin

prompt 1 ◍

the green eyed monster ◍ ║

frankie morales

loud ◍

push & shove ◍

agent whiskey

cowboy next door 1 ◍ 

cowboy next door 2 ◍ ║

javier peña

on this day ◍

lay it on me ◍

the crush series ♡ ◍

marcus moreno

drabble series ◍

dieter bravo

in the bubble with you ◍

chris evans

steve rogers

say it again ◍

little dove 1 ♡                    

little dove 2 ♡ ◍

ari levinson

don’t speak ◍

james mcavoy

charles xavier

obvious (series) ♡ ◍

you are my turn on ♡ ◍

game on ◍

jon bernthal

frank castle

watch you, watch me ◍

stupid fucking frank and his stupid fucking boots ◍

tension ◍

prompt 1 ◍

corruption ◍

riding the wave ◍

two am automatic ◍

cowpoke ◍

adam driver

flip zimmerman

thou shalt have no other gods before me ◍

kylo ren

give it up to me ◍

robert downey jr

tony stark

prompt ◍

thunderstorm ♡

sebastian stan

bucky barnes

prompt 1 ♡

elden henson

foggy nelson

it’s like watching teenagers ◍

our little secret ♡ ◍

stay with me ♡ ║

andrew garfield

peter parker

ruined ◍