nana-the-unicorn-blog

[katagawajr]

finally saw nope (the movie) WAUGHH I LOVE ALIENS!! AND I LOVE COWBOYS!!

[dreamescapeswriting]

Save A Horse Ride A Cowboy ~ SCB

WORD COUNT: 2.5k

PAIRING: Changbin x Fem!Reader

GENRE: Non!Idol AU, Established relationships, smut (MINORS DNI), sex at a party together, oral (both m and f receiving) riding, unprotected sex, lots of cute nicknames, dirty talk

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - June 2023

⤜MASTERLIST

"Who even wants a fancy dress party at our age?" You grumbled as you brushed off the crumbs that someone had just drunkenly spilt all over your new outfit. It had taken you about four months to find the perfect cowgirl outfit and you were going to be damned if you were going to let some sloppy drunken arsehole ruin it with the food he'd been eating. 

"Apparently your boyfriend's best friend." Felix quipped from beside you, you did your best not to roll your eyes toward the back of your head as you usually would with the mention of your boyfriend's best friend. Wooyoung hadn't always been your go-to "favourite" person in the world and most of his parties almost always ended in someone getting hurt...That someone is your boyfriend who would do anything Wooyoung asked him to do. 

"Wooyoung isn't exactly the most mature so I guess it's to be expected," You winked playfully at Felix. It was always playful figs between you and Wooyoung, he accused you of stealing Changbin from him while you'd accuse him of doing the same thing. There was never any malicious intent behind any of the things you would say about Wooyoung and you and he both knew that.

"You love me though, I mean. You get to look completely stunning as a cowgirl," Wooyoung whispered as he walked behind you and Felix, smirking when he saw you jump a little and struggled not to spill your drink all over the floor.

"Where's your horse anyway? I would have expected Changbin to be glued to your side in this little ensemble." Wooyoung couldn't resist the urge to take in the sight of you and he bit down on his lip as he did so. The two of you had decided to come as a couples outfit, cowboy and cowgirl for the night but everyone had half-expected Changbin to come as the horse you were going to ride. Your outfit wasn't exactly the most revealing thing in the world but it did happen to push your boobs up so much it made them look bigger than they really were and the black dress clung to your body perfectly.

"He hasn't seen me yet, we left separately." You giggled as Wooyoung wiggled his eyebrows at you, smirking as you shook your head at him. The one thing about Wooyoung was that he was a massive flirt both in front of Changbin and when his friend wasn't around, all in a playful manner of course.

"So, what you're saying is. Right now, you're a free woman?!" He called out before dramatically wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against his chest your hands laid flat against his chest as you giggled trying to push away from him.

"I shall steal you from that mean man Changbin and we shall run off into the sunset together!" He yelled out rather confidently, drawing the attention of some other people that were around you all as you let out a small groan.

"I don't think so." Changbin cried out from the doorway, your eyes landing on him and scanning over the outfit he was wearing. There the man of your dreams stood in an all-black outfit, black jeans followed by a black western yoke with tassels along the arms and the front of his chest. That wasn't the best part though, no, the best part was the black cowboy hat he was sporting which you could have sworn was sending butterflies throughout your whole body.

"My hero," You whimpered sprinting over to your boyfriend and collapsing into his arms as he let out a deep chuckle that you could feel in the side of your face.

"You look great tonight," He practically growled into your ear, his hands wasting no time in running down your sides and grabbing onto your hips as he let out a low groan for you to hear. On many occasions, Changbin had expressed how much he loved your hips, your waist, your breasts...Your everything. There wasn't a single part of your body that Changbin didn't fall in love with every time he saw you, there was something each time.

"You do too," You whimpered feeling your body beginning to heat up at the sudden attention that you were getting from him and he smirked down at you, biting down on his lip a little.

"I know that look," You gasped out as his hands began to run down your sides until they rested on your ass and he grabbed a handful of what was "his". His hands on your body were enough to make your eyes roll back and your legs shake, you were so desperate for him and you didn't care who saw. His hands continued to grab onto your ass, softly rubbing against the skin under your dress until it finally stopped and you instantly knew why,

"Changbin..." You trailed off, realising he knew you weren't wearing any underwear under the cowgirl dress and his hands were suddenly pulling you tighter against him.

"We're going to dance," Changbin told Felix and Wooyoung who both shrugged and went back to talking among themselves but as soon as Changbin took your hand in his you knew you weren't going to dance.

"You've been naughty." He suddenly told you as he tightened his grip on your hand, dragging you through the crowded living space and toward the stairs that led up to Wooyoung's bedrooms.

"We're not in our own home," You reminded him as you eyed him up suspiciously as he continued to pull you in the direction of one of the many guest rooms inside of Wooyoungs house. It wasn't the first time the two of you had fooled around here and you were almost sure it wasn't going to be the last.

"I don't care," He smirked as he pushed you into one of the rooms before shutting and locking the door behind himself. The moment the door was locked his hands found your hips and you were being pushed against one of the walls, your eyes locking onto Changbin's for the first time since the kitchen and you noticed how dark they were.

"Fuck, you're so hot when you're like this." You breathed out before running your hands over his cheeks and bringing him into a desperate kiss. Your hands began to desperately touch and grab at one another, your fingers taking off the hat he was wearing and throwing it somewhere in the room,

"How about we save a horse and you ride a cowboy?" Changbin chuckled darkly at you as you felt your whole body aflame, whimpering a little as you stared up at him your heart racing against your chest as you nodded your head.

"I'd love to." Before you could move Changbin was pushing you onto the edge of the bed, lifting your feet up to sit on the edge as he smirked down at you.

"What a meal," He growled before sinking onto his knees in front of you., his head buried between your thighs as he began eating you out like a man starved. Your hands slapped against his shoulder as your back arched away from the bed, you couldn't remember the last time Changbin had eaten you out like this. His fingers were already pulsing inside of you at a rapid rate and your cunt was tightening around him with each thrust making your head spin.

"Changbin!" You cried out as you hit his shoulder again, your eyes squeezing shut as you began to feel yourself losing focus on him as you gave in to the feeling.

"Fuck, you always taste so fucking good," He growled as he swirled his tongue around your clit, looking up at you as you moaned his name out again,

"S-Seo Changbin, we have to be quick and quiet." You moaned out, your fingers beginning to claw at the shirt he was wearing. If anyone found out that the two of you were fucking upstairs you'd never hear the end of it but it felt too good to stop and be quick. You wanted him and you wanted him all night long if he could handle it.

"I love when you say my name like that." He moaned out against your clit making your head spin as you rolled it back against the sheets.

"Cum for me baby," He groaned out as he thrust his fingers into you, rubbing right against your g-spot as you whimpered a little. Your legs already beginning to wriggle against him as you felt your orgasm building. A few more strokes and you were going to cum you could already feel it. Without warning you grabbed him by his hair, pulling him even closer to your cunt as he began to suck on your clit. Your back arched away from the bed as you did your best to muffle the sound of your screams. 

"Good girl," He moaned out against you as your body relaxed against the sheets, your whole body spasming as he looked down at you with a proud look on his face. Changbin took great pride in being able to make you cum and in fact, he'd been getting rather cocky with his actions as of late.

"You're so cocky but we both know I make you cum faster," You quipped at him, getting up onto your feet - albeit a little shakey - but you pushed him down onto the same spot you'd been previously laying and smirked at him. You began to pull him free from his pants before taking his cock in your hand and beginning to pump him delicately.

"Fuck," He hisses out as you slowly began to pump him in your hand, slowly leaning down and running your tongue along the head of his cock making his balls tighten. As soon as his hips bucked a little you took him deep into your throat, looking up at him as he groaned and moaned your name out. He let his head roll back giving into the way your mouth felt so warm and wet around him and he let out a groan.

"D-Don't stop." He hisses out as you began to suck on the tip of his cock harshly while pumping the rest of his cock hard with your hand and humming around him. The pleasure continued to build and Changbin could have sworn his eyes were going to roll to the back of his head but it wasn't until you took him to the back of your throat again that he was pushing you off.

  "R-Ride me," He begged, scooting back on the bed as he moved to the headboard and lay his head down on the pillows you let out a giggle at the sight of him.

"My stuttering cowboy," You smirked, kneeling above him as you lined the head of his dick up with your cunt, looking him in the eyes before slowly - torturing slow - sinking down onto him taking him in by an inexorable inch.

"Jesus, it's like you were made for me." He groaned out as his hands landed on your waist, your eyes finding his as you let out a low moan.

"C-Changbin," You moaned out as you leaned down to kiss him, tightening around him as you felt him hitting deeper than before. You breathe into each other's mouths as he continues to push up into you, hitting deeper each time. Every inch made it feel as though he was rearranging your guts and you could barely take it as you clawed onto his shirt.

"Yn," He chokes out as he looks at you, your hips stuttering before you began to find a rhythm. As soon as you did you began to rock back and forth against him, one hand gripping onto his chest while the other used the headboard to steady yourself.

"Oh fuck, you just have to take all of me. You're a little fucking show off," He grunted as he looked up at you, your hips wiggling a little as you pulled up and down on him.

"Oh my god," You moaned out as your nails sink into his chest, rolling your head back as you began to rock back and forth on him,

"You feel so fucking good, Yn. Such a perfect pussy," He moaned out as he lifted his hips up meeting yours as you let out a small squeal.

"Changbin," You whispered as you carefully began to get onto your feet while keeping him inside, squatting down against him and holding back your screams. His head fell back against the sheets as he looked up at you, you looked angelic the way you were riding him and he could already feel his balls tightening at the sight of you.

"You're fucking incredible." His eyes began to roll to the back of his head as you gripped him tight, your ass slapping off his hips as you continued to fuck yourself.

"You're so big," You moaned out looking down at him as you continued to let yourself sink down on him,

"You can take it though baby, You take it so fucking well," He moaned out as he looked at you. With the sound of your skin slapping against his he knew he was getting closer,

"Jesus," He groaned out as he reaches up and rips the top of the dress open exposing your chest to him as he began to play with your tits. One hand was on your nipples as he pulled and twisted on one while the other hand snaked between your legs and began to rub your swollen clit. 

"Will you cum for me, Un?" He pleaded with you, looking at you as your hips stuttered ever so slightly.

"C-Changbin," You cried out as you felt yourself tightening around him and your orgasm building higher and higher,

"I want to feel you cum for me," He growled out as he began to buck himself against you, you tightened and he smirked at you knowing exactly what was going to come next.

"Whose girl are you baby?" Your eyes landed on him as you let out a small whine of his name.

"Yours! Yours!"

"That's right, you're all fucking mine." He growled out as he began to buck against your roughly. Your movements began to get sloppy as you roughly slammed yourself down against him harder and harder. Your body began to shake and he snaked his arms around your waist, sinking you down on him as you cum around him. 

"Changbin! Oh, fuck, Changbin!" That was all he needed for his balls to tighten and he exploded inside of you, his forehead resting on your shoulder as you collapsed onto him panting heavily.

"That..." You started off as you tried to catch your breath,

"Was fucking incredible." You finished before letting out a tidy giggle and slowly pulling off of your boyfriend, laying down on the space beside him as he spooned you from behind.

"You are," He whispered before placing a small kiss on your lower ear and chuckling a little as you let out a small whine.

"Think we can stay here all night and sneak out in the morning? I'm too tired," You mumbled as you cuddled into the sheets, letting your eyes flutter shut and not even hearing Changbin's response.

Tagline: @chiisaiblog​ @hanasonmi​ @sw33tnight​ @taestannie​ @army24--7​ @acciocriativity​ @scarletemeterio​ @halesandy​ @aerastus​ @laylasbunbunny​ @critssq​ @lenfilms​ @btsiguess-kpop​

[delopsia]

Dancing Beneath The Moon | Rhett Abbott x Reader

Word Count: 10,000  Cross Posted on AO3 Brief Summary: How is it that your heart only longs for the ghost of a cowboy? And why do you get the feeling that his heart utters the same for you? Warnings & Notes: 18+, AFAB!Reader, Ghost!Rhett AU (with a twist! I won't tell you what kind but it's a twist!), friends to lovers, Trevor does not take rejection very well (please be advised that he does yell at the reader and scare them), unprotected sex, mentions of violence, and Rhett's 'murder.' Please refer to the user manual and wash your cowboy before sex.  

"I-I'm sorry, I need to leave."

"Trevor, wait!" Your feet patter across the floor, struggling to keep up as he lets himself out the door, "I can explain."

Only on the front porch does he stop, ostrich-skin boots clicking against the old wood with every step, "You don't need to," holding up one hand, as if to ward you off, "I just...forgot my Dad asked me to interview our new ranch hand today."

Your mouth opens. Closes. Opens again, gaping like a damn goldfish.

"I'll call you later," and that's all Trevor leaves you with, skittering off the porch and clambering up into that lifted F-150, with its perfect, custom black paint that glimmers a deep blue as he tears down your driveway.

Ugh.

"Rhett!" Your voice echoes throughout the house, punctuated by the slamming of the door behind you. So loud, and yet you can still hear the vicious banging of your beloved cast iron skillet banging on your kitchen tile. A shrill clatter of noise that has you fighting the urge to cover your ears as you storm into the kitchen.

And there he is. The translucent motherfucker, sitting cross-legged beneath your table, peeking out from beneath it. "What?" A big, shit-eating grin lacing his barely there features, so innocent and childlike that you almost don't believe he was the cause of this mayhem.

Almost.

The skillet in his hand provides a pretty damning counterargument.

"I'd kill you if you weren't already dead," fuming, yanking that dented skillet out of his hand; Rhett's grip is strong, but not enough to stop you from taking your cookware back.

"I was playin' with that," he huffs, a cold wind that tickles your ankles.

The skillet lands in the sink with a clatter. "And I was trying to have a date," you hiss, throwing your hands up, "but I'm unfortunate enough to share a house with a ghost who doesn't have any fucking manners!"

"I have manners!" Rhett's up in the air now, a buzzing collection of mist that floats up to the ceiling, no longer human, "I just ain't got 'em for big shots that wanna play cowboy for a day!"

"He is a cowboy," he's not. You know he's not. But god, you are not giving Rhett fucking Abbott the satisfaction of you agreeing with him. "You wouldn't know, being ancient and all that."

The temperature drops. Mist scattering. You can't tell where he is anymore. "I would know 'cause I am a fuckin' cowboy!" His disembodied, roaring voice comes from all directions. "No good-minded cowboy wears a goddamn rolex on a work day, 'cause they know that shits fixin' t'get scuffed!"

"Cowboy or not, you're going to have to get over it," as you reach for the tap, you think you can feel his presence behind you. Some invisible thing that sends your skin prickling, even with the knowledge of how harmless he truly is. "Trevor's coming back, and if you keep scaring him off, I'm phoning a priest."

"Fine!" Booming behind you.

"Fine!"

He's gone for the rest of the night.

The pizza guy scares the hell out of you when he knocks on the door. Not because you had forgotten about your order but because you were waiting on the curtains to peel themselves open. Expecting to hear a deep, half-hearted grumble about how "your date is here" as the fella clambers out of his beat-up sedan.

But it never comes.

Rhett doesn't even bug you about giving him a slice that he knows he can't eat, but you catch yourself putting a plate out for him. You wonder if he's in the room to see you rushing to put it back in the cupboard. Maybe he's out in the field because the television doesn't miraculously change to the Animal Channel like it usually does. You don't catch a glimpse of him lingering in the mirror whilst you brush your teeth.

You're glad.

You didn't want to see his ugly mug anyway.

Strange how such a big presence can vanish so easily, without a trace or hint of where he went, leaving this big farmhouse feeling like a husk of what it usually does. The temperature drops a degree or two when he's around, but without him, it feels like you've set up camp in the Arctic. How can a dead man bring so much life to a place?

But the covers are tucked around you in the morning.

You can't see him, but when you step into the kitchen, sleepy-eyed and yawning, you can feel him wisping around you. That invisible presence seeking for anything to get back on your good side.

The toast lifts itself onto a plate before it can be burnt by that old, barely functioning toaster of yours. On the table, the weekly grocery ad flips open to a discount on new toasters, a lazily written note scrawled beneath it. 'They even have the color you were wanting! :)'

He pulls the chair out for you to sit, and when you defiantly head out onto the porch to eat, he pulls the patio chair out for you too. You hate giving him the satisfaction of helping, but it's hard to avoid him when he's free to roam this entire property.

But the one thing you've forgotten is just how hot Wabang can get, even this early in the morning. Birds tiredly chirp from their nests, unwilling to take flight beneath the sweltering sun; the old wind chime is silent, not even the slightest breeze appearing to help it sing its tune. You've been outside for a mere five minutes, and yet sweat already beads on your forehead.

A cold nothingness wisps past you. Round and round your little patio table, stirring up a breeze that doesn't reach the trees.

"You can come out, Rhett," fighting your laugh is futile because it slips out as you speak, dancing through the air in tune with the wind chime.

The opposite chair scoots out on its own, a pale blue mist collecting in the seat; it'll take him a moment to get settled back into form. "Did ya happen to find my headstone yesterday?"

Your head is shaking before he can get his sentence out. "Are you sure you were buried in Wabang?"

"I don't know where else I'd be," Rhett's face isn't fully there yet, but his scowl is, settled deep into his nonexistent features. "Wabang was the only place my folks ever knew."

Your heavy tongue can't be brought to tell him about the graves you did find. Royal and Cecelia buried together, their son Perry right next to them, and their granddaughter Amy buried in the row in front of them, next to a headstone simply titled 'Autumn.'

Rhett should know. He deserves to know where his family rests, but you can't bring yourself to tell Rhett that his killer was given the privilege of being buried next to his parents. Don't know how to tell him that the Amelia County Sherrif dug up an old newspaper declaring Perry Abbott as not guilty of Rhett's murder.

"C'n I bug you to put a cup of coffee out?" Rhett chirps, and that permanently scruffy face almost looks real. His eyes must have been as blue as the ocean deep when he was alive, for even now, they glow with their color. The only thing off about him is his slight transparency and the rays of sunlight that spear through his body.

"You didn't smell it enough this morning?" You ask, but you're getting up anyway; you'd rather not deny his request and risk him making a mess by trying to do it himself.

His boots click across the old wood, in perfect tune with your step, "wasn't here."

"Where did you go?" You're already grabbing his mug out of the cupboard, other hand reaching for the coffee pot.

He's quiet for a moment, and then, "barn." When you turn around, he's no longer there, a plume of mist once more, but you don't need to see him to know that his eyes are transfixed on the ground. "Didn't think y'wanted me in the house after last night."

Most people would love it if their ghosts would leave the residence; let them live in peace without being heckled by the souls who can't move on. You'd know; you were one of them, once upon a time.

"You don't have to leave every time we bicker, Rhett," it feels strange to say, but those words are spoken directly from the heart, "this is your house too."

He manifests again. Back to his favorite spot beneath the edge of the kitchen table, cross-legged, where he can peek out to see what you're doing. A little too big to fit, but he makes it work.

Like clockwork, his right-hand toys with the cracked edge of a linoleum tile, the one he's pulled up numerous times in the past.

"Please don't tear up my tile," you try to say it as gently as you can; you know why he's so drawn to it, but you really don't want to spend an afternoon fixing your beloved floor again. Wordless, he leaves his spot, content to settle down in a kitchen chair and smell his coffee. The closest he can get to enjoying its flavor.

You wind up back in bed early in the afternoon. Downed by a migraine that refuses to pass, settling deep into your skull, brought on by an unknown cause. You think it may be from the obnoxiously strong air freshener you plugged in; Rhett blames it on your cellphone.

"Care for some company?"

You're fortunate that Rhett Abbott is easy on the eyes because it's difficult to open them. There he is, standing near the edge of the bed, in the same spot you met him three years ago.

At least this time, the two of you aren't screaming, startled by each other's sudden presence.

"As long as you don't hog the sheets," comes your conclusion, and the bed is dipping as soon as the last word has left your mouth. A weight that isn't there settles across from you, a human-shaped indent that by all means shouldn't exist.

Rhett's hair falls into his face as his pretty head lands on the pillow, snuggling against it, and you know he's trying his best to remain as solid as he can. He says he's not touch-starved, but you're starting to think that he's lying.

Your hand wanders out on its own, carefully settling against that misty cheek, trying not to go through him. "You look a little more solid than usual."

"Only took a couple years of practice," the corner of his lip rises with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes.

Oh, why does he have to look so sad when your hand inevitably passes through him?

You don't know if ghosts can cry, but his eyes seem to water as he feels your touch falter. They always do, but it never gets any easier to look at. It never gets easier, watching his smile wobble back into a frown, and his form grow a little more opaque.

Opening your arms to him probably isn't the best move to make. You've both discussed this; roommates is as far as this relationship can ever go because anything more asks for nothing but heartache. Heartache, such as the crushing feeling of feeling him squirm closer and not being able to feel him when you wrap your arms around his waist.

The only sign that he's real is the coldness you feel against your chest as his head settles against there. And, maybe, just maybe, you think you can feel wisps of his hair tickling your skin.

"What the hell is that?"

You haven't even taken it out of the box, and Rhett is already puffing up like a feral cat about it. "What does it look like, Rhett?"

The living room light flickers, his blue mist settling into the corner of the couch, as far as he can get from the box sitting on the floor. Refuses to take any more form than he already has, doesn't know how to react to this new thing that now sits in the same room as him.

"I don't have a clue," he says after a moment.

"It's a video game console," you want to take it out of the box and prove that it's not going to hurt him, but you don't want him getting any more surprised than he already is.

Against all odds, it seems you've got his attention because you can see his face now, head cocked to the side like a puppy. "A huh?"

"It connects to the television," nodding your head toward the flat screen next to you, "you can use it to play games on it."

He perks at that. "You can play checkers on the TV?"

Checkers wasn't what you had in mind, but you're sure it's on there.

There's a lot of fumbling involved. All the various cords and manuals only serve to confuse him more than he already is, and though he tries his best to help, he's not much assistance. There are less than five cords for the system, and he thinks they're all HDMI cables. But he's helpful when it comes to squeezing behind the television, at least.

"So that box...puts the game on the screen?" He asks as soon as you've settled onto the couch together, scooted as close as he can possibly get. "And you use that thing to play?"

For a cowboy who grew up in the days of black-and-white television, he catches on quickly. "For the most part, yes."

You'd won this thing in a raffle held down at the Bison Valley Bank of Wyoming, entered just for the hell out of it while you were down there a couple of months ago. How you won a new gaming console and why it came with a second controller, hot pink in color, you'll never know.

Rhett's simply poking at the joystick, unwilling to pick it up just yet, but you know he'll take to it like he did your television. Later, you'll wish you hadn't, but for now, you'll download one of his favorite board games.

"Monopoly?" He's fighting it, but there's still a twinge of excitement in his tone.

Now he's picking it up.

And within the hour, you regret even bringing the damn console into the house because you lose. Horribly. As soon as Rhett figured out the controls and the slight change in rules, you knew you didn't stand a chance. You can't even be upset about your crippling loss because he's kicking his legs back and forth and giggling.

"One more round?" He pleads, those opaque eyes sparkling with their childlike wonder, and you know he's never going to let this controller go.

"Let me get a drink, and then we'll play another," are you only agreeing because you enjoy the melody of laughter coming from your household ghost?

Absolutely not.

...okay, maybeyou are, but still.

At least he can't see your smile as you head for the kitchen, socked feet pattering across the cold hardwood without much of a sound. Already formulating a plan in your head, the next surprise move that might help you beat Rhett at one of his favorite games. If you can buy all four railroads before Rhett does...

The floor bends beneath your foot. Something crackles.

"Rhett, can you come here for a second?" Frozen in place, afraid to make another move. The lights are off; you can't see what's going on, but something feels wrong.

His presence is there before you can think any further, a chill ghosting over your body as he breezes around you. Circling like he's making an attempt at thwarting your fears before he flicks the light switch on.

And now you see it.

The kitchen floor is beginning to cave in, bowing inwards, right where your kitchen table sits. Beneath your foot, the tile has begun to crack, breaking into smaller pieces that cannot withstand any amount of weight on top of it.

"That floor's fixin' to collapse, doll," comes his voice, seemingly from all directions.

You're moving to step off of it and venture back out into the presumably safe hallway. But the floor crackles even louder. Tiles buckling beneath both of your feet. Sinking lower.

"I don't think I can," your body sways, fighting to remain upright.

Rhett's silently wrapping around you, formless blue mist shaping around you like a hug, tugging you away with a surprising amount of force. Practically takes your feet out from under you as he hauls you out of the kitchen.

"You're stronger than you look," you mutter in the hallway. Where the floor is solid and doesn't threaten to come out from under you.

"Only when I'm wantin' to be," he mutters directly into your ear, and you're suddenly glad that you've never asked how strong he is, as a ghost and all, "Now what kind of drink were you after?"

Rhett's your kitchen boy for the next three days until you can get someone to come and take a look at your floor. Balancing drinks and plastic cups that occasionally end in a tragic spill because he's not as good at balancing small objects. The first person never shows up; the second arrives bright and early in the morning, interrupting your morning conversation with Rhett on the porch.

"Now, like I said before, I don't have my equipment on me, so I can't guarantee you that this is the case," the guy begins, and you really, really hope he doesn't look up and see Rhett's dumbass sitting on the counter, "but my biggest guess is that your foundation has been exposed to too much moisture for too long."

"What's the worst-case scenario for this?" Your attention flickers between him and Rhett; what if it's something that you can't afford to fix?

He pauses to press his foot against the floor one more time, carefully surveying the way it shakes beneath the weight, tile crackling once more, "now it's highly unlikely, but worst case scenario, in my opinion, would be a sinkhole."

Your face drops.

"But that's highly unlikely," and he doesn't seem too concerned as he turns to face you, "I wouldn't worry until we get back out here and tear up the floor this coming Monday."

So Monday it is. That will be the day you find out if it's a simple fix or if you'll have no choice but to move out and leave your beloved house ghost all by his lonesome. Rhett seems to catch onto that thought, too. Remarkably quiet for the rest of the afternoon.

You can't blame him. For about forty-five years, this house was occupied by a family of religious folk who used some sort of herb to quite literally render Rhett into a state of unconsciousness. One too many surprise appearances in the mirror doomed him to sleep for all those years, only -reawakening after you moved in and scrubbed this old farmhouse from top to bottom.

He's never known what it's like to be alone. The closest he's come to it is the sporadic vacations you've taken over the past couple of years. None of which have lasted longer than a week, but all of which have ended in him waiting on the porch, tackling you the moment you stepped out of your car.

Unless he can attach himself to you, he'll never be able to wander further than the fields that surround your home.

Rhett doesn't take form again until Sunday night.

You don't know why you've drug these two lawn chairs out into the lawn, past the gravel that eats up the area around the house, but you have. Lounging, gazing up at the moon and stars hanging high above your heads, pointing out all the shapes you find amongst them.

The portable radio drones lowly in between you, stuck on the same old country station, ever since Rhett and his ghostly ways accidentally jammed it last summer.

"Do you wanna dance with me?"

And you don't know if...did you make that up in your head? Or was that just the radio?

"You know I'm not drunk this time, right?" Your head tilts, aiming to get a glimpse of him. He's already looking at you, smiles weakly as you meet his eye. Laying here, cloaked in the silvery light of the moon, he looks...real. If you reached out, you're sure you'd feel the scruff of his cheek scratch at your palm.

He hums, "I know." Pausing, just for a moment, to look up at the stars one more time. Your eyes follow, scanning the speckled sky, delighted to catch the tail end of a shooting star. You should make a wish...but you can't think of anything to wish for. "I just...wanted t' know what kinda dancer you are when you're sober."

"Alright," comes your answer; dry, nothing more to add to it.

And you don't know where it comes from, but Rhett reaches off to the side of his chair and plucks a translucent cowboy hat off the ground. Takes care to dust it off with his scarred palm, even though nothing can possibly dirty it, before carefully placing it atop his head.

He holds his hand out for you to take as if it's something that's become possible all of a sudden, and against better judgment, you do just that. Slipping your palm into the chilly illusion of his, deceiving yourself into believing that you feel his fingers curling around your hand. It's not, but as he leads you out further into the grass, it becomes easy to deceive yourself.

"Whoever taught you to dance, anyway?" You giggle as he spins you around; catches you by the waist when you come to face him once more.

He grins, big and wide, and you think you see his teeth glint in the moonlight. "You give amazin' lessons when you're drunk."

Oh, how easy it is.

Dancing beneath the moon, in nothing but your pajamas, held close by the ghost of a cowboy whose soul fits against your own like a puzzle piece. He doesn't know what he's doing, and if he were human, you're sure he'd be stepping on your feet, but he moves in such wonderous tune with your body that it feels like a daydream. His cold forehead rests against yours, ocean eyes peering deep into the deepest crevices of who you are.

You're drifting away from the grass and into the driveway, feet kicking up loose gravel with each and every step. Sweeping past your car, your shoulder narrowly avoids the passenger side mirror. You should be looking where you're going, you're going to drift too close to the porch and fall, but Rhett's gaze is so captivating that you can't bring yourself to look away.

How is it that your heart only longs for the ghost of a cowboy?

And why do you get the feeling that his heart utters the same for you?

"You're thinkin' awful hard," the hand that curls around your cheek feels so real, the vague callous of a thumb stroking beneath the corner of your eye.

"Just figuring out how I'm going to pack you up and take you with me," your words are a poorly collected lie; you both know it, but he doesn't call you out on it.

Oh, and he's pushing your noses together with all the boldness of a man who knows what he wants. Your fingers are trying to tangle in his hair, and it's of no use, but you do it anyway, uncaring of how your hands sink through that collection of mist.

"Take me with you, hm?" He's slowing to a stop, the arm around your waist drawing you closer to him. "What happens when y' find someone to settle down with? Y'gonna turn me into the ring bearer at the weddin'?"

"Fortunately," your gaze flickers down his face, and you're so, so sure he's real, "I've already found that someone."

Rhett has no need for oxygen, and yet he sucks in a breath of air anyway, a little reflex remaining even after all this time.

One of you should shut this down right here before it goes too far. But your arms are wrapping around those broad shoulders, precariously balanced upon the thick collection of mist that makes up Rhett Abbott's ghost. The hand on your cheek is dropping to cup your jaw, and the world spins even faster as both of you lean in. His cold breath fans out against your lips, your eyes meet one more time, and...

Kissing him is the only thing you have ever needed.

A heart-stopping boom tears through the silence. Glass shattering in hot pursuit. As your eyes flutter open, the kitchen light goes out.

"What was that?" Your feet are already moving, Rhett's form dissolving into a thin mist, following at your side.

"I don't know," his distant voice rings, "please be careful."

You can hardly heed his warning. Sweeping past the front door, not bothering to take your shoes off, as you head for the kitchen. It's too dark to see, forcing you to fumble for the dining room light that you never use. Your hands graze over the switch, flipping it on, and, and—

The kitchen floor is nearly gone.

Replaced by a deep, cavernous hole that seems to reach deep into the earth. Consumes over half of the floor where your table once sat, reaching from your cabinets to your teetering refrigerator, on the verge of falling in.

"I don't suppose you have any ideas on how to get your spirit to attach to a living person, do you?" You hope Rhett can't pick up on the shake in your tone; there's no way insurance will cover a damn sinkhole.

But your question is met with silence.

"Rhett?" You're turning, and...he's not there. The air is unusually warm, not a speck of mist to be found. "Rhett?" Trying again, louder this time, as you head for the door, because maybe he's outside, maybe he's...

He's not there either. Maybe he's upstairs. Yeah, when he panics, he usually hides out in his old bedroom. He's just upstairs.

The door slams shut.

A second crash follows suit; you don't want to know if that was your refrigerator or if the sinkhole expanded even further.

"Rhett, this isn't funny," shaking the door knob. Locked from the inside. "Rhett, open the door!"

He doesn't.

The windows are all locked down tight. Even the one you intentionally leave unlocked. You find your car keys sitting atop the roof of your car, the paint scratched from where they've been thrown from a distance.

Rhett's chilly presence doesn't visit you when you sleep in the car that night.

He's not there to spook the contractor when he and his crew arrive early in the morning. You don't find him sitting on the couch when they kick the door down, and he's not on your bed when you sneak up the stairs, even after you're warned against going to the second floor. He isn't even there when countless faces enter your home to check out just what is going on in your kitchen.

"I've never seen this before," one of them tells you, her brows furrowed as she looks at her clipboard once more, "but it's not a sinkhole at all."

You don't know if you heard her correctly. "It's not?"

"It's a fifteen-foot hole that must have been dug by a past owner," she pauses to flip through her phone, presenting you with a photo of...just a dirt hole. Nothing special about it in the slightest. "They never refilled it, either; it was only a matter of time before the foundation collapsed into it."

Your mind flickers to your seemingly non-existent ghost. Rhett's never told a lot about his murder, but you know for sure that it happened in the kitchen. "Did you find anything down there?"

That seems to give her pause, ink pen tapping idly against her lips as she rechecks her pages and pages of notes. "Aside from your refrigerator and debris from the collapse...," flicking through another page, "it was completely empty! Nothing to worry about."

Well, at least now you know Rhett's not buried beneath the kitchen floor.

Even worse, his spirit no longer lurks within the paper-thin walls of this century-old farmhouse. You call for him in the fields, disturbing the cattle your neighbor keeps, and you beg for him to be there when you crawl out of bed in the morning. But the house remains warm; the only mist you find is in the fog that settles over your home after it rains, and he doesn't come out to mess with the teen boys employed to carry in bags of dirt, to fill the hole with.

Doesn't even appear when Trevor's F-150, with its irritating color-shifting paint, pulls into the driveway one evening.

"And so there was just a hole under your floor this whole time?" He's sitting in Rhett's favorite spot, cheap beer balanced carelessly between his legs. Has already spilled it once, leaving a stain on your cushion, and you'd tell him off if you weren't hoping it would infuriate Rhett into showing his face.

"The going theory is that one of the past owners dug it," glancing toward the mirror as you speak; still no ghost.

"I bet you more than anything that it's related to that Abbott murder," Trevor says, picking his drink up once more.

Your heart lurches in your chest. "Murder?"

"Did the realtor not tell ya?" Why is he scratching his cheek with the edge of his beer can? "That uh...what's his name? Perry, that's right, got into it with his brother and beat 'em to death in the kitchen."

"They told me someone died, but they never really elaborated," you mutter as he scoots a little closer. "Do you know what the argument was about?"

Trevor's heavy arm slings over your shoulder, drawing you near, musky cologne rudely meeting your nose. This is the same man you've been pursuing for months, so why is it that all of a sudden, your stomach churns at his touch? "Think it was...mmm, I think it was over some broad that went missing a couple of months before. Perry's wife, fiance, or something like that."

The alcohol on his breath has your senses reeling, overwhelmed with a sudden onset of nausea. Rhett didn't have much of a scent, but the little he carried was nothing but leather and honeyed sweetness. Your memory of his touch is brief, can count on one hand the amount of times he wrapped an arm around you, but he never dragged you into his chest like Trevor does.

"I'm sorry," speaking gently, you slide out from under his arm, rising to your feet, "I can't do this."

Trevor's face falls; you already regret speaking up, "what do you mean?"

"I'm sorry, I thought I could, but I just..." shaking your head, eyes landing on the hot pink controller that Rhett once played with, "I can't."

"The fuck do you mean you can't?" He's shooting up from his seat, beer can hitting the floor, the golden liquid splashing across the hardwood.

Your mouth is opening, but you don't get a chance to speak.

"You sure could when you were begging me to stay in this freaky ass house of yours last week!" Roaring, face twinging with red as he tries to close the space between you. Your heart is pounding in your ears. Loud bangings that rattle you so hard the house seems to shake with it. "You put me through all this just to tell me no?"

"I didn't put you through a damn thing!" Your voice echoes through the house, tone fierce, yet your feet timidly take one step back for each one Trevor takes forward. The floor seems to tremble beneath you. An earthquake that only you can feel.

Trevor's quiet at that.

You'd rather if he just yelled.

Because now he's got you creeping backward, and there's only so much space you can back up into. Your voice is caught in your throat. Stifled by something invisible. Mouth opening, but nothing comes out. The light in the kitchen goes out. Glitters of gold flitter past your head like tiny sugar plum fairies.

All of a sudden, Trevor lurches toward you.

Your head smacks against the wall. Jumping away from him.

"You think that little of me," he laughs, incredulous, "you think that fucking little of me?"

"Trevor." Your voice bursts past your lips. Shaky. But there. "Stop."

"Or what, huh?" Spit hits your face. His hand slams next to your head. Breaking through the drywall. "You owe me! I didn't spend all this goddamn time just for you to up and change your little fucking mind!"

"They asked you to stop." That's not your voice.

And it's not Trevor's, either.

Heavy boots thump across the floor. Spurs jingling with every step. Next to your head, a dirt-covered hand takes hold of Trevor's wrist. Muscles flex as it tears Trevor's fist out of the wall. Shoves it into his chest.

Trevor's reddened face has gone stark white. Trips over his own boots as a hulking, dirt-coated figure steps in front of you. Broad shoulders, covered by a vaguely patterned flannel; plaid, it looks like. Dark brown curls rest at his nape, unruly hair flowing freely. Suspiciously similar to...

"Who the fuck is this?" Trevor's still backing up, and this vaguely familiar man eats up every inch of space that's put between them.

"The house ghost." And that's...that's...

Trevor runs for the door before you can finish your thought. Slams it shut behind himself, like it'll keep him from being followed. Truck already rumbling to life. Downright roaring as the vehicle tears out of the driveway, sending gravel clanking against your windows.

But that's not what you're paying attention to.

Truly, you should be concerned about your windows being broken. But all you can do is look towards your kitchen because the light flickers back on. Gives you a momentary glance at a bottomless hole that's returned once more. Leaving behind no trace of the dirt that once filled it. Thin wisps of gold dance through it like an aurora, seemingly alive as they move.

You blink, and it's halfway gone. The edges shrinking inward until the hole is no more. Leaving behind that same freshly packed dirt.

Leaving behind...

"Rhett?"

He jolts at the sound of his name. As if he's surprised you're even speaking to him. Has yet to speak; confirm it's really him, but you already know the answer to that. He turns. Slow. And you can't help but wonder if that really is dirt because it seems to be fading away.

Slow, your hand drifts out from your side, and when your fingers curl around his jaw, you don't know if it's you who sucks in a breath of air or him.

Scruffy. Unshaven face scratching at your soft palm, dirt sticking to your skin as your thumb soothes over a remaining patch stuck to his cheek. Warm. He's warm. And he's hesitantly pushing his head into your hand, and, and—

"Rhett." You say it once more. The only thing you know how to say.

Tears well in those eyes. They're as blue as you ever could have hoped they would be. So, so real, not a shred of translucence to their color. One spills over onto his cheek, rolling until it's caught and wiped away by your thumb.

His arms are moving, hesitant to wrap around you, and you know he's worried about getting dirt on you, but the only thing you care about is stepping into him. Wrapping your trembling arms around that big, warm body of his and feeling him squeeze you into his chest. Where his heart beats heavy, thunking against you with the strength of an ox.

"I don't know how..." he whispers, hot breath tickling your neck, where he's buried his face.

"You're still an ass for locking me out of my own house," you're trying to sound irritated, but it's difficult to feign annoyance when he squeezes you a little tighter.

"Didn't want you bein' sucked in like I was," it's so strange to hear his voice like this, no longer a disembodied sound, "I...it just...kept suckin' me in every time I got out."

You're leaning away, and God, you don't want to leave those strong, trembling arms, but you want to see that face of his even more. The wrinkles beneath his eyes, the wobble of thin, chapped lips as they rise into a meager smile.

The callouses of his fingers drag against the soft skin of your cheek as his big hand settles there. Not the misty, barely there touch you're used to, but just as gentle as it's always been. His nose bumps against yours. Don't know who's leaning in. You shouldn't. You shouldn't do this.

This time, you know for sure that it's you who closes the gap between your bodies. It's you who catches this cowboy's lips in your own, reveling in that surprised gasp of his.

If you thought that kissing his ghost was heaven, then this is something else entirely.

Molding together like you were made just for this, his hand on your cheek and yours delving into his messy hair. Feeling the strength of the arm that curls around your waist and breathing in those faint notes of leather and honey and something warm that you can't quite place.

He pauses for a moment, breaks into a big, dumb smile as you meet his eye once more. And then he leans in to kiss you once more, hands cradling your cheeks, like you're a delicate flower whose petals will fall if he doesn't hold you together. His body shudders with something torn between a giggle and a sob, tears rolling down his cheeks, but he's smiling so much that your teeth clack together.

Your name tumbles off of his lips. Then again and again, like he's trying to memorize the feel of it in his mouth. The way it rolls off his tongue and twists through the air, the sound seeming to kiss your ears when it meets them.

"Rhett," mirroring him, and oh, how he perks at that. Has he always reacted so beautifully to you calling his name?

"Say it again," his nose bumps against yours as he speaks, "Please. Wanna hear you say it again." So eager to hear you that he looks two steps away from a puppy, the tears in his eyes shimmering with wonder as you open your mouth once more.

"Rhett," you whisper, like it's a secret shared on the playground, and then, again, "Rhett."

This time, when your back hits the wall, it's because a bright-eyed cowboy is carefully backing you into it, one hand protecting the back of your head as he dresses his body against yours. Smiling too much to kiss you, can't seem to get over the feeling of your skin against his, the overwhelming reality of whatever this is.

"We probably shouldn't be..." Higher thinking rushes back to your head in a whirlwind, thoughts running wild in the darkest crevices of your mind. What if's and why's and wonderings of how this happened, if it's permanent or temporary. "What if we cross that line, and you go back to being a ghost?"

You don't think you'll ever adjust to the sound of Rhett breathing or the way his eyelashes flutter as he thinks for a moment. He's licking his lips, mouth opening, and, "What if we don't cross that line and spend our whole lives regrettin' it?" 

One too many kisses may leave you longing for him for the rest of your life, but one too few may leave you carrying eternal heartache. And that's only if he goes back to being a ghost. But he feels real. When you press your palm to his chest, his warm hand covers it, guiding it to rest over his beating heart. Little thumpings that shouldn't be there, full of life and love and all just for you. 

He could have come back to life for anyone. But he came back for you. 

To hell with it. 

Your bodies collide like galaxies. Blinded by a frantic kiss that promises bruises to your lips. Flecks of gold fall from his body as your hands roam, tugging at a flannel, at his hair, at his hands. Legs tangling because you're moving too quickly, and he's still adjusting to walking rather than floating. 

Only break apart long enough to tumble up the stairs; Rhett almost trips over every one of them. Struggling to keep his confidence but boosted along by the kisses you pepper to his reddened cheeks and the gentle tuggings of your hand in his. 

Your back hits the bed with all the grace of a newborn fawn, Rhett tumbling right along with you, chuckling into the crook of your neck. Under the dim lighting of your bedroom lamp, it's easy to catch onto the deep bruising that scatters beneath his right eye. 

"These are from Perry, aren't they," it's more of an observation than a question, your fingers soothing over the marks as if they can somehow heal them.

Rhett's pressing a kiss to your wrist as it roams past, "Don' wanna think 'bout that son 'f a bitch right now."

You can work with that. 

Especially when your bodies squirm further up the bed, his hips settling between your legs, forearms bracing themselves on either side of your head, heaving chests against one another. His lips solid against your own, hungry, urged on by the nails that dig into his shoulders for leverage. 

"You'll tell me if I'm goin' too far?" He's speaking into your kiss, unwilling to remove himself any further. 

Maybe there's a second ghost in this house because something possesses you to roll your hips up into his. Such a faint pressure, the rough bulge in his jeans rubbing against your soft pajama shorts, but it's so much compared to what used to be. "I will," you're interrupted by his mouth once more, "but I'm sure you'll be the one asking me to stop before the end of the night." 

Your hand has a mind of its own, wandering down his chest, flattening out to feel the muscles that ripple along his stomach, hidden from view by his shirt. They flex under your touch, a simple thing that makes your head spin. By some method of madness, that shirt is still tightly tucked into his jeans, the material hard to get ahold of. 

Rhett shifts above you, unintentionally moving when you feel for some slack in his shirt, something to get ahold of, and your hand wildly overshoots. Palm splaying out against the front of his jeans instead. 

"'m not so sure 'bout that, sweetheart," he groans, a deep, guttural noise escaping him as he reaches down, catches your fleeting hand, and guides you to press against him once more.  "I ain't had a dick for the better half of a fuckin' century." 

These old jeans are thick, but even so, you can still feel him twitch against your touch. This wasn't what you were aiming for in the slightest, but watching him shiver as you massage over the outline of his bulge is a hell of a sight. 

"Sensitive," you're only lightly teasing; any more words and you'll be fumbling with his belt buckle.

"You're one to talk," he mutters, head dropping to press his lips to the meet of your jaw, teeth tugging the skin there. 

You think your eyes may pop out of your head. "I thought you promised to stay out of my bedroom when I didn't invite you in." 

"Wasn't in the bedroom, baby," he's chuckling, breath tickling your ear as he works his way towards it, "When you're a ghost, you hear everythin'." 

Then he's leaning back, leaves you feeling cold as he fumbles with his jeans, boots hitting the floor with two solid thunks. An involuntary whine works its way out of you, reaching aimlessly for him. 

"Don't wanna get y'all dirty, sweetheart," he soothes, catching your hand and pressing kisses to your knuckles. Pops open his belt buckle with a pinch of his fingers, and soon those dirty jeans are sliding off, revealing milky white thighs, mottled with bright spots of red and deep purples,  a badly bruised knee to match.

...as well as a pair of boxers patterned with bright red hearts. 

"Y'ain't gonna believe me," Rhett's staring down at them too, teeth worrying his bottom lip, "but I have no fuckin' memory of wearin' these." The tips of his ears have gone bright red. Another quirk hidden until now. 

"We'll get them off soon enough, I'm sure," you say, leaning up to let him peel your shirt over your head. 

As soon as it's out of sight, Rhett's lips return to your neck, one wandering hand soothing up your side, not stopping until it reaches your breast. Does nothing more than feel you in his hand, sucking at a soft spot beneath your ear that has you fighting the urge to close your eyes. 

Your hands wander, one wrapping around a surprisingly muscled bicep while the other delves between your bodies once more. Feeling down his sturdy chest, past his stomach, and not stopping until you can take hold of him through his boxers. 

"Fuck," his body jolts, "'re you sure 'm not dreamin'?"

"I thought ghosts didn't sleep?" You're parroting something you so clearly recall him mentioning in the past, can't place the memory yet. Don't really care to, either. The only thing on your mind is the way your fingers wander past his waistband, wrapping around his cock that jumps at your touch. 

He's thicker than you imagined he'd be. 

Moans prettier, too, for that matter. A little bit breathy and so Rhett. 

"Hands of yours are so fuckin' small," he's muttering in between kisses as he works his way back to your lips. Can't kiss you because a jolted grunt interrupts him, a symphony of sounds as you slowly stroke him. Oversensitive, the first touch he's felt in decades.

His hair drops into his face, acts as a curtain when you look down to where your hand is working him. Can hardly see what you're doing, but you do catch a glimpse of precum beading at his flushed tip, hearing his gasp when your thumb swipes over it. 

"Y'need to stop that," he huffs, voice nothing but air, "gonna...fuck, 'm gonna cum if you keep..." And despite asking you to stop, he grumbles when you let go of him. 

Hands now free, you reach for your shorts, not sure why you feel so shy when he helps you tug them down your legs; it's not like he hasn't seen you naked before. From you forgetting he's there to him accidentally floating into the shower while you were using it. 

But these eyes are not the translucent ones you're used to, with their expression hidden by deviations in his mist. No, these eyes darken as they drink up the sight of you, every little thought in his head spoken through his gaze. But even as he kicks his boxers off, shirt going right along with it, you can't help but feel like hiding under the sheets. 

"'ve I ever told you that you're beautiful?" His voice breaks the silence, stroking the inside of your knee as he speaks. 

You don't have words for that. 

He doesn't need them. 

You really don't have words for when he takes hold of your wrist, guiding it up and taking two of your fingers into his mouth. Tongue carefully swirling around each of them, soaking them with a content hum. Your eyebrows furrow, to which he raises his other hand. Dirt beneath his nails and caught in the wrinkles of his hand. 

Ah.

Reluctantly, you pull your fingers from his warm mouth, and you're pleasantly surprised to find that there's hardly any resistance when you press them inside. Open and already wet, helped along by a moment of fun you'd had in the morning, hoping a familiar ghost may come to help you along. 

"How did you know I kept my lube in the bottom drawer?" You can't help but ask, watching as he fishes around for it. 

The tips of his ears are red again. "I learned the hard way not to float through bedside tables."

He's the one who uncaps the container, but it's you who reaches out for him to pour it into your palm. Not because you're concerned with dirt but because you want to feel him in your hand again. Twitching when you take hold of him, a thick vein running along the side of his length. He has to stifle a noise with each stroke, squeezing your knee all the while. 

"You're sure you're ready for me?" He asks when you urge him closer. 

"I'm sure I'll be fine, cowboy," fighting back a noise as you guide him down, letting him push between your folds, some lazy, teasing thing that has his plush head dragging past your clit. Sensitive, almost has you considering making him fuck you like this instead. 

But he's catching against your entrance, and you've daydreamed about this man too many times to pass up the opportunity. 

That tentative, forward tilt of his hips is enough to make your head spin. Pressure blooming as he pushes into you, careful, like you'll shatter into a million pieces if he's too quick. 

"Rhett," you whisper, don't quite know why. 

"'m here," he's coming back down, nose pressing against yours in his own little way of reassurance, "I've got you."

Your earlier rendezvous didn't end well for you, but you're so thankful for it in hindsight because his cock stretches you wide. Blunt head dragging against your walls, massaging past the bundle of nerves you couldn't seem to find with a toy, your thighs squeezing his pale hips. 

"So tight for me," he pauses about midway, or what you think is midway, at least, "you're sure 'm not hurtin' you?"

Your head spins, loose on your shoulders, "I'm okay." 

With a noise of his own, Rhett starts to move again, draws back a little before pushing further, and you can't help but wonder if he's holding his breath. Your nails bite into his shoulders, hanging on as he finally bottoms out, now flush against you. His mouth moves, but he can't speak. Only capable of releasing a shaky breath, lazily catching your lips in his.

He doesn't need to be asked to move, catching on the moment you grind yourself against him. Withdrawing slow, shallow, before pushing back in, and you're so, so full. Clinging to his shoulders to stay in place, feeling like you'll float away when he brushes against those nerves again.

Fuck, he's just begun to move, and you're already biting your lip. Don't know how you're going to keep yourself quiet because he massages past that little spot every time he moves, never lets it alone. 

His thumb pulls your lip out from between your teeth, "Let me hear you, darlin'."

His words alone have your cunt fluttering around him, and you're leaning into the palm that cups your cheek, mouth falling open. "Rhett, fuck."

You don't think you need to reach down between your bodies, but you do anyway, fingers pressing to your long-neglected clit. Working in tandem with Rhett's quickening hips, jolting as his angle shifts.

"There?" He says as if he hasn't already found that damned spot. All you can manage is a nod, a whimpered 'uhuh' escaping you. 

And he's doubling down, cock head kissing that oversensitive spot again and again. Grins wickedly when you shudder beneath him, nails dragging down his pale shoulders, panting into his mouth.

"Fuck, this sweet lil' pussy of yours feels so good 'round me," he groans, thrusts becoming harder now that he's remembered the ropes. Heavy balls smacking against you, and you really hope there aren't any more house ghosts who can hear the sinful sounds whistling through the air. "'s this what you've been needin', hm? 

"Rhett," you don't know how to speak, his name tumbling off your tongue.

"Bringin' home all those dates that could never make you cum," his voice dropping an octave deeper, damn near growling, but the softness in his eyes suggest he wouldn't hurt a fly. "Wouldn't have terrorized 'em if they woulda treated you better." 

That's why he chased them all off? God, how many times did you bring someone home, thinking he was gone? And how many times has he daydreamed about having you beneath him, whimpering his name as he fucks you nice and proper. 

You should be mad, but you can't. Not when you're falling apart at the seams, hand sliding from his shoulders, barely clinging to his bicep. Bounced by every heavy thrust, can't keep your fingers on your pulsing clit, tightening around him as something warm blossoms between your legs.

And he must be able to feel it because his eyes flicker into the back of his head, if only for a moment. "You gonna cum on my cock for me, sweetheart?" 

This is new. Fuck, this is so, so new and so much. No longer able to keep your eyes open, tongue lazy in your mouth, words long forgotten as you try to nod your head. Mind clouded with thoughts of Rhett, Rhett, Rhett. 

"Shit, y'got me so damn close, baby," he rasps, hair tickling your cheek as he presses kisses there, "You want me to cum on those cute thighs of yours? Or your sweet little tummy?" 

You don't have the answer to that question. Distracted by the crumbling of his rhythm, thrusts growing shaky, in perfect tune with the tightening coil in your lower belly. Almost there. Almost there. 

He's still talking. "Or would you rather I cum nice 'n deep in this pretty pussy of yours," you regret opening your eyes. All you see is the sweat beading at his forehead and strong hips working you over. Fat cock disappearing into your wet pussy, elicits a dizzying squelch every time. "Pump you nice 'n full of me, just so you'll need me to fuck it out of ya in the mornin'." 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Where's your voice? Where's your voice? "I-inside."

Rhett's breathy "yeah?" is all you fucking need. Your back rises up off the mattress, head tilting back with a silent cry as you cum around his cock.

"There you go," Each pump of his length into you only sends your head higher up into the stratosphere. Whimpering, clamping down around him as a shudder washes over you. "Feel so good when you're clampin' 'round me like that." 

And he's still fucking going. Fucking you through it, beating against that bundle of nerves even when you begin to tremble, after-shocks still tearing through you. 

"Hang on for me, baby," his eyes are bolted shut, chasing his high, biceps shaking, so, so close. 

"Please, Rhett," you whisper, your hand soothing over his hardened face. Those deep blues flutter open, softening at the sight of you, like he's just seen an angel "Cum for me." 

A whimper tumbles past his lips,  a second one follows suit, and then those eyes are closing once more, hips stuttering to a halt as his orgasm hits him. Tiny noises escaping his chest, burying his face in the crook of your neck, the familiar tune of your name tumbling off his sweet tongue. Filling you with his cum, making good on his promise, jolting as you involuntarily pulse around him.

For a while, the air is silent. 

Until Rhett lifts his head and kisses up your sensitive neck, sending you into a fit of giggles. "C'n we take a bath t'gether?" He murmurs, seemingly shy, unable to meet your eye.

"So long as you agree to bubbles, baby." Baby. You don't think you've ever called him that. 

You can't wait to do it again.

For decades, the folks of Wabang, Wyoming, have whispered the tale of two brothers. Gossiping about a murder they presumed to have taken place, for they knew that Perry Abbott was a violent man, and it was only a matter of time before his little brother became the next punching bag. 

Never have they whispered about the hole that opened beneath the kitchen floor, swallowing Rhett's near-lifeless body up, escorting him to an unknown safety while leaving his lonely spirit behind. They don't know of the decades he spent forced into an unnatural slumber, only to be awoken by another lonely soul with a heart made of the same glass as his own. 

Nobody giggles about how a human scared a ghost or chatters about the adventures they've shared in that century-old farmhouse. They do not know of the arguments, and the boyfriends lost because a ghost wanted the best for his friend, appearing in mirrors and whispering their deepest insecurities into their ears. Worse, they don't roll their eyes over the many tales of him banging a cast iron skillet on the tile just to see them run.

But you do. 

Only you know of how Rhett smiles, big and dopey, as you take him into town for the first time in decades. You are the only person who gets to explain what self-driving cars are and roll your eyes as some new thing scares him into jumping behind you. Nobody else gets to take him on a road trip, watch him fight with a GPS for the first time, and introduce him to the ocean and the concept of crabs.

"Why are they shaped like that?" Rhett's stumbling after you; not sure if he likes or hates this little creature, only knows that he wants to follow you. "Why is he following me?" 

You wish you could see the little bugger, but it's so dark that you can hardly tell where you're going. The only light you have is a dull light in the parking lot and the silver moon hanging high above your head.

"Probably because you've pissed him off," you laugh, holding your hand out when he reaches for it, "are you going to survive two more nights this close to the beach, or do I need to take you back to the pasture?"

He hums, loud and dramatic as he can manage, scratches his freshly shaved chin for added effect, "I suppose I'll survive, but if that crab kills me, I'm comin' back as a ghost and suin'."

From the moment your feet are on the cool concrete of the parking lot, Rhett's spinning you around. It's still the only thing he knows how to do, and his feet tangle with yours a little more than they should, but oh, is it as magical as that night in your driveway.

"'ve I ever told you that I love you?" He smiles as he speaks; knows he says this every time you wind up dancing beneath the moon.

"Never," feigning surprise, as he pulls you in close, noses bumping together, "but I love you more."

And then you're running. Squealing as Rhett sets hot on your trail. He'll catch you before you so much as reach the hotel doors, trap you in his arms, and insist that no, he loves you more, punctuating every word with a wet, sloppy kiss. And you're so excited for it that you think you may let him catch you early. 

Perry took away a lifetime from Rhett. 

You're more than happy to give him a life worth waiting centuries for. 

Even if he does still refer to himself as the house ghost.

[latibvles]

trouble's always gonna find you, baby.

okay hi, here's a piece of that western au I've been yapping about all week!! wahoo!! you can find my thoughts in the tag #western au (creative I know) but in short summary this is a Wild West au, the Bucks and (some of) the guys are in a vigilante-esque cowboy gang, Viv is the banker's daughter, and there's a whole lot more details about it because I've subjected Several people to it. Do not come to this expecting peak historical accuracy but do come here if you want John Egan and Friends in cowboy hats. TW for blood & discussion of a gunshot wound if that bothers you at all — otherwise here's three of Bucky's meetings with his ahem "angel" of sorts. tagginggg @hellofanidea , @saturnwisteria , @shoshiwrites & @upontherisers for having to listen to me yap about this (this is not proofread folks be kind to me)

I.

He thinks he’s died and gone to heaven the first time he sees her.

Not that Bucky thinks he’s necessarily deserving of it (he knows he’s not, has known as much since the first time he felt the spray of blood on his face) — but that’s the story isn’t it? Jesus comes to the Apostle John on a white horse, something like that. Resurrection, salvation, and all that fun stuff he didn’t pay much attention to as a kid despite his mother’s best efforts. Why Christ would appear to him and not someone like Brady or Jo, who are much better about praying and piousness, he doesn’t really know why. He’s also pretty sure Christ was supposed to come back the same way he left, so maybe it isn’t Jesus himself after all.

Her horse is pale and white, like her nightgown; early morning light and slight mist in the air make her look somewhere between an angel and a ghost. What was that thing his mom used to say? When the Devil tries to take you, he could see her now, pinching his chin between her finger and thumb to keep her looking at him, tilting his head up to her to ensure it, he’ll sink his claws in while giving you the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen, John. That feels more reasonable. The closer he gets, the easier it’ll be for her to drag him to the pit.

She reflects all the light of dawn — he can hear her mare chuffing, moving this way and that as she grazes the field, her white coat glowing in the haze. Bucky can’t fight that urge to move closer to her — but to his credit he’s not really trying either. He knows he shouldn’t, that he should just keep going, but curiosity grips him and doesn’t let go.

Maybe it's temptation. In his experience they tend to overlap anyway.

 He can see the grass stains now on the hem of the gown where it falls on either side of her; vibrant green against thin white fabric, flashes of olive skin that he tries not to linger on as he moves closer.

“You an angel?” Bucky asks without thinking, watches how she jumps slightly and snaps her head to look at him— eye level on their respective perches. She laughs a little, shaking her head.

“No,” she looks him up and down. “You from around here?”

“No,” Bucky’s lips curl on a grin, taking in the way her hair falls around her shoulders in soft brown waves. “Two towns over.” She whistles low, raising her brows at him.

“Long way from home then, sir.” Bucky reaches up, tipping the brim of his hat and she laughs a little as her horse moves again, a bit closer and still trained on the grass as opposed to his curious stallion.

“Not sir,” he declines. “It’s Bucky. You got a name?”

“Maybe.”

“Well I can keep calling you angel if you want.” She rolls her eyes at that, a smile tugging at her own lips. Gotta be an angel he affirms, just from the sight of the small strip of white between her lips, the amusement clear in her expression. Christ, she really is beautiful. Hers are some kind of warm hazel; a little gold, little green. Her hair falls freely past her shoulders, a bit past her chest — warm and brown and wavy.

“Seems a little dishonest if I’m not one though,” she notes. “Are you a liar, Bucky?”

He’s about to give her an affirmative no ma’am but it catches in his throat. She’s been holding his stare for a while now; arched brow, head tilted and he has the strangest inclination that she’d know even his answer would be a lie. Hell, for the past few years his mother thought he was working on a ranch with a buddy and his wife. And yes, he’s working with his buddy, and his wife — but it’s not a damn horse ranch.

“You give all strangers the third degree?”

“Just the chatty ones.” She looks him up and down, smile growing a little wider. “Guess I got my answer then.” Bucky kisses his teeth, feigning disappointment.

“Guess that’s a no-go on the name then?” She hums, looking around for a few seconds like she’s searching for something and Bucky can’t help but look around too — towards the barn on one end of the field, the house behind them with the pale white siding, and the mostly-broken and rotting fence encompassing much of what he assumes now is her backyard.

“Race me to that fence over there and you get it if you win,” she declares, pointing straight ahead. “But if I win I get yours.”

“Already told you. It’s Bucky.”

“You also told me you’re a liar. Maybe I’m shooting for last names,” she counters with a slight shrug. “Deal or no deal? I don’t have all day.” Bucky snorts at that, the edge of impatience, the way her mare seems to dig at the dirt in an antsy way to emphasize the point.

“Alright, deal.”

“And you better not go easy on me, Bucky.” He tries not to preen at the sound of his name on her tongue, the slight toothiness to her smile and how her brows furrow at him — voice taking on a competitive tone that stokes at some kind of fire within him.

“Wouldn’t dream of it ma’am.” She snorts at that as she leads him towards the center of the field with a slight tilt of her head, and he follows with a grin making its way onto his face. He sidles up next to her, watching with interest as she holds the reins a little tighter, glancing at him from the corner of her eye.

He hardly even registers her counting them off — which is to say he doesn’t register it at all. Too focused on how her lips move and the slight uptick at the corners of them. The crack of the reins is deafening when she takes off, a blur of white that has Bucky chasing after her — the heavy thundering of hooves loud in his ears. She’s faster with the transition but he’s really only a few paces behind, cracking the reins and urging the horse beneath him forward.

She looks over her shoulder, barely, at him and smiles again. Her nightgown’s rippling with the speed of her movement, dark hair whipping behind her with every thunder of her mare’s hooves against the hard dirt.

Bucky feels his heart stutter in his chest.

She slows at their agreed upon finish line, but he continues to move forward until he’s a few feet past her rotted fence. She eyes it, then looks back up at him. 

“I win.” She declares, and he can’t help but chuckle at that, taking in this newly windswept state of her. So if they ever do this again, he’ll know exactly what to expect, and if he never sees her again, he’ll have this memorized in its entirety. He nods a little, tipping his hat to her once more. He’s been lingering long enough. He could already envision the way Marge would turn his face this way and that, looking for scratches and Willie’s sage, mildly annoyed “you’re late” when he walks through the doors. But he likes this silence between them, in an odd inexplicable way.

“John Egan,” he says after a minute’s past, watching her brows raise slightly. “Friends call me Bucky, though.”

“We’re friends?”

“Halfway there, ideally friends know each other’s names,” he teases. Her lips press into an indiscernible line as she looks him over, before nodding slowly.

“Maybe next time.” Bucky grins at that, nearly preens beneath the promise of a next time.

“I’ll hold you to it, angel.” he counters as he turns to leave, relishing in that slightly amused scoff from her as he takes off once more.

II.

The second time he sees her is about as unplanned as the first time.

There’s a lot of things he didn’t notice before, that he’s noticing now for better or for worse. He’s pressing a hand to his side haphazardly, barely upright on his stallion as bright vermillion leaks through his fingers despite his best efforts. The bullet went clean through, thankfully, and the other guy was laid out in the middle of the dirt path for his guys to come pick him up if they cared about that kind of thing.

The territory they consider theirs is a handful of towns in close proximity to one another — close enough to share one Sheriff. He knew the dangers of traveling to the fringes of it — a general no man’s land that was riddled with bandits and scouts from other gangs searching for a means to expand their reach. Which is why he went at all; Buck and Willie with him to check out a commotion that ended up in a shootout. He’d broken off from them, drawing a couple riders with him despite Buck’s protests, and maybe he ate a bullet in the process but the other two guys were laid out which was what really mattered anyway.

He’s not really guiding his horse anywhere. Sometimes he decides to just do his thing and Bucky isn’t too hard pressed to stop him as he steps over rotting fence work and makes his way towards a barn with the doors left ajar. It’s mostly hay and workbenches in there, a couple stables and saddles hanging about. He dismounts unceremoniously and his horse immediately lays on one of the piles of hay.

His head’s spinning as he slumps against the pitch-black mount, sliding his shirt up to assess the damage.

It’s not pretty but it’s not life-threatening. Maybe. Okay, how should he know? He’s not the goddamn doctor. That’s Jo — or, technically, Jo’s brother, but neither of them are here right now. Christ he’s dizzy, head leaning against his horse’s torso as it expands with every inhale, and he presses a little harder against the wound — it’s not like he’s got bandages on him.

There’s a brief moment where Bucky wonders if this is meant to be his final resting place. Bleeding out over a surface-level bullet hole, Christ, what a way to go out. If he had the blood for it he’d be flushing. The notion makes him snicker and feel half out of his mind for laughing at his own unfunny joke.

He barely registers the creak of the doors, but he feels the warmth of sunlight as they open, can see the dust hanging in the air from the loading hatch also left inexplicably open — his gaze fixed on the beams and ladder leading up to the hayloft.

“Miss Vivian? Are you—” A soft gasp brings him back to reality. He tilts his head to look ahead at an older woman; much shorter than him and heavy-set. They hold each other’s stare before he smiles and waves with a bloodstained hand. She’s taking off like a bat out of hell.

Whoops.

She moves faster than he’d expect for a little old lady, and he almost laughs at that if there weren’t black spots in his vision, if his mouth didn’t feel dry, if he wasn’t jumping from one thought to another as the adrenaline wears off and leaves much of his body feeling sluggish and heavier than it already was. Back to staring at the ceiling, then, counting dust particles and biding his time as he waits for the Devil to finally come pick him up.

“John?”

Fuck. He recognizes that voice. He lifts his head again. She’s different in this light — hair pulled away from her face, in a much nicer dress than the nightgown he’d first seen her in. She pays them no regard though as she walks forward, casting a shadow over him. He thinks she might yell at him. He laughs half-heartedly at the odds — noticing everything except that it’s apparently her barn he found himself making a mess of, things tucked into the crux of her arm.

A bottle of whiskey, a flask, cloth dressings, rags— oh, she really is too good to him.

“Hey angel,” he murmurs as she kneels before him without a word. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Of all the barns to go and die in you had to pick mine?” she asks, exasperated as she untucks his shirt to undo the buttons. He tries not to let his mind wander with every brush of her warm fingers against his skin. She pulls him up by the pits to a proper sitting position, and he grunts as he tries to help her with that.

“What can I say? Had to get that name.”

“Well you’ve got it.” He watches her drench the rag with the alcohol, running it across the exit wound first. He’s silently grateful it didn’t hit anything vital — or at least, he doesn’t think it did. It’d probably hurt even more than it already does.

“No I don’t,” he counters. Her movements stall for a moment before she continues, shifting again to clean where it’d entered him. Her head is bowed before him as she works, and once again his heart’s stuttering a little when she looks up at him through dark lashes, squinting at him.

“What’re you talking about?”

“Wanna hear it from you,” Bucky shrugs a little. “Doesn’t count if you’re not the one telling me, angel.” She mutters something about him being ridiculous that has him chuckling as she grabs the bandages. There’s smudges of mud on her skirts now that he can’t look away from — jaw clenching as she wraps his torso with careful precision. Her fingers drag across his skin, rough palms pressing to his stomach, his back. It’s all he can focus on; the roughness of her hands and the mud on her skirts, he damn near misses what she says next.

“Vivian,” she murmurs. “Viv. Whatever works.”

“Vivian… Viv… angel,” he chuckles a bit. “You gotta give me a third.”

“Does bandit work?” she asks as she assesses her work. Bucky kisses his teeth.

“I mean I prefer vigilante.” This makes her snort, and with her state of dress he practically relishes in how “unladylike” it is. Lifting her head, Bucky can’t help himself — reaching out to tuck some strands of hair behind her ear that fell out of place, aware of how close she was to him now. “We’ll put a pin in it.” She holds his stare for a few moments longer and he selfishly takes it in — the hand pressed into his outstretched leg so she doesn’t lean into him too much, the gold of her eyes. When she retracts, he swears that she’s branded his thigh with her handprint; he’s not mad about it.

“But I’m right, aren’t I? You’re…” she trails off, like saying the word will summon Sheriff Harding in a flash of holy light. He figures that explaining their unique relationship with law enforcement is a conversation for when his head is no longer swimming. His horse swats at him with his tail as if he’s trying to keep him awake, and he nods a little.

“That bother you? Bandit in your barn?”

“No. Just… surprised is all,” she looks away, wiping her hands with the rag — which is how he realizes that it’s his blood on her pretty fingers. Part of him wants to press further, just to see if she’s lying about it, but he ultimately decides against it. For now, he adds internally. “I’m not gonna have a bunch of your guys on my doorstep treating it like a hostage situation, am I?”

Bucky laughs, half-surprised by the look she gives him. It’s something between irritated and concerned, like it’s more of a convenience than anything else. She’s thrusting the small flask into his chest as she asks it.

“No, probably just two annoyed friends of mine. And they might apologize for me,” Bucky explains as he undoes the cap. He half expects the burn of alcohol when he raises it to his lips, but it’s just water on his grateful tongue. He licks his lips to gather what tries to escape. “Sorry for scaring your uh…”

“Maid?”

“Yeah. She seems nice.”

“Good at keeping secrets, too,” she adds flippantly. She takes his shirt in her hands. “I can… clean this. Get you a blanket. Gets cold back here at night you just… can’t come in the house.” She’s rubbing the nape of her neck and he nods, nonplussed at the boundary there. He smiles, running his hand over the dressings once, then twice.

“I’m getting the five star treatment, huh?” She rises, rolling her eyes a little as she takes the whiskey bottle and the dirtied rags.

“Better than most,” she affirms. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

III.

Willie and Buck found him in the middle of the night. She was in her nightgown when she led the two of them to the back, to the barn where he’d wrapped himself in the blanket, knocked out cold. The vision of her when he brushed past was another he was adding to the gallery in his brain just titled Vivian. Bucky couldn’t really ride on his own; still a little loopy, his face pressed against Buck’s back while Willie led his horse beside her own.

“That the angel you were talking about, John?” Buck asked, gruffly.

“Mhm. Pretty little thing, don't you think?. Beat me in a race, too.”

The anecdote was met with silence from both of them, and if he wasn’t tired, he’d be more hard pressed to figure out the reason why.

Afternoons on Sunday are always the busiest — and the Church in their town is the closest of the bunch. Bucky hasn’t attended in years, and he didn’t this morning either, but he’s here anyway with Curt, waiting for Josie to get out. Sunday errands, her brother was a protective type and considering he patched up most of their wounds without questioning where they got them — the least they could do was accompany his sister to run errands.

And Josie’s sweeter than candy, so it’s not like Bucky minds much.

“How’s your side?” Curt asks curiously, bumping his arm. Bucky shrugs.

“A little sore. That’s about it.” Curt chuckles at that.

“Alright tough guy,” Bucky grins a little at the sarcasm. “When we gonna meet this angel, huh? Or is she a secret or something?” Bucky doesn’t answer for a moment. Truthfully, he hadn’t made the ride out to see her since, and that was a few weeks ago. He’d wanted to, but he’d been healing and there was a feeling in his gut that sending a letter would be a bad idea. So he shrugs once more, scanning the flood of people exiting the church in search of Josie.

“Well you think I’m making it up, so who’s to say?”

“Don’t tell me I hurt your feelings, sweetheart,” Curt teases, and Bucky’s about to counter with a remark of his own when his breath catches in his throat — lips parted, staring only a few feet away. Fuck.

He recognizes her immediately, talking with somebody, or listening, more like. The man next to her is doing the talking, and she’s holding onto his arm — not pressed into it, but definitely holding onto it. And it’s damn near impossible to miss the ring on her finger, chunky and attention-grabbing in the afternoon light. The older woman they’re talking to takes her hand to look over it, running her thumb along the back and the man next to her preens, talking so fast Bucky doesn’t even attempt to read his lips.

“Bucky. Bucky?” Curt snaps his fingers in front of his face and he jumps a little at the sound, whipping his head to look down at him. “You alright?”

He looks back up at Vivian, and for the briefest moment, he swears he’s caught her gaze before she looks away immediately — a full turn of her head like she’s looking at the other people around and not just trying to avoid him. There’s a want there to cross the threshold and speak to her — not out of any desire to embarrass her. More like see if he could get her the hell out of there. The stiffness in her posture is so plain to see that it’s impossible to ignore.

He’s also far too aware of who he is in comparison to who she probably is, which is to say — if a nobody from nowhere came up to her, it’d probably raise a few eyebrows. He looks back at Curt, who’s staring at him expectantly.

“I’ll tell you later,” he mumbles. Curt nods, and Bucky tries not to stare at her for too long.

Even if he so desperately wants to.

[idlerin]

HYPNOTIZED, MESMERIZED

guitarist!suna rintarou x assistant!f!reader

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | extra

the ikarus incident (band au)

+ word count: 3.5k

note: enjoy the tooth rotting fluff babes

he was your boss, but sometimes, he was more than that.

SUNA RINTAROU is your boss, but some days he feels more like a friend. Like now, with the both of you sprawled on his couch, a beer in hand as the two of you unwind in the form of lounging lazily after a hectic day while complaining about your workmates.

“He was so rude, was all like ‘how would you know?’ with that look— you know his look? That I’m-better-than-you-you-trash as if he was actually doing something worthwhile!” you munch on the chips you were eating angrily. This was also one of the times where you lose your composure around him. “I resisted the urge to snap back at him,” you frown, “I shouldn’t have. Who cares if I’ll suffer through his death glares in the next shooting?”

“Next time you should put him in his place,” Suna says tipping his beer towards you, “I’ll help you, I still hate the way he dressed us up in fucking neon that one time on live television,” he shakes his head and takes a sip of his drink, your eyes briefly glanced at the way his adam’s apple bobbed and promptly turned away.

“The one from 3 years ago? When Atsumu went viral for twerking in his hot pink tutu?” you ask, brows furrowed, suna groans at the memory. “I remember that! My friends were talking about IKARUS— well they were always talking about your band— but more specifically ‘tsumu and his pink tutu! That’s why the nickname tsu-tsu became famous in your fandom right? You were stuck with that zebra print cowboy hat and neon green sunglasses,” you laugh.

Suna throws a pillow at your face and you laugh even more. “I think it can still be found on the internet right?” you smile cheekily at him and put down your chips and beer to reach for your phone.

“Don’t even—” Suna tackles you to take your phone away, you let out a squeal because you didn’t expect him to freaking jump you. Now the both of you were on the floor with him hovering above you, your phone raised over your face, him gloating that he got it while you groaned because he was purposefully putting most of his weight on you.

“Get off,” you grumble, you watch as he throws your phone on the couch without making any move to get off of you, so you try and push him away on your own but he’s like an ironclad wall, a muscle-y ironclad wall. You know he works out, of course you do, he slaves you around in the gym with him! But you didn’t know he was this strong.

“Are you enjoying putting your hands on me, sweetheart?” Suna teases and you immediately put your hands away.

You made the mistake of looking into his eyes. It was full of mirth with a hint of something else you can’t pinpoint while he was staring at you. Maybe it was the beer— yeah you were going to blame it on the beer— that made you think ‘he’s really pretty when he’s like this’ although nothing compares to when he’s on stage, you think he’s really hot especially when he— stop.

“Are you so mesmerized by my looks, [name], that you can’t say a thing?” he taps your nose, “You’re so cute.”

Heat spread on your cheeks and you hope that it’s darkly lit enough for him to not notice, “That’s not what I was doing,” you glare, reaching out to the side and getting ahold of the pillow he threw at your face just a moment ago and shoving it on his face this time, catching him off guard and making him ironclad-no-more as you roll away. Once you get out, you look down at his laughing figure clutching the said pillow as you glower, “And I’m not cute.”

He tilts his head to the side, “You are. Also, you said your friends always talked about my band. Does that mean you did too?”

You made your way back to the couch and laid on it, stretching your legs and making yourself comfortable, opting to act as if you didn’t hear him.

“So you did? Aw, were you a fan too?” He sounds far too happy about it.

“I partook in some of the conversations,” you admit in defeat, “I liked some of your songs,” now that one was a lie, you liked their music so much you have all their albums, but you were never the type of fan that was immersed in the members themselves, and you’ve never been to any of their concerts too, well, before you started working for him.

“So..” he goes and lays his head on the edge of the couch, beside your stomach, “Do you want an autograph?” he jokes, you ignore him again as one of his hands reach for yours and he starts playing with it, you let him, even though you know you guys were beginning to have one of those moments again, you’ll blame this on the beer too.

“And to think I thought you didn’t even know I made music when you showed up in my studio for the job, you had this really strict deadpan face on, but you were secretly a super fan,” he continues, drawing circles on your palm.

“I was not a super fan,” you refute but he ignores you, this bastard, you picked up the ignoring thing from him.

“I’m surprised you’re letting me hold your hand,” changing the conversation and tugging on your hand to make a point. You sigh, you’re not sure why you’re letting him hold it too.

“Rin?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

“Get up," you order your boss. It was 7 in the morning on a sunday and you were not happy about being woken up from a series of calls from the other side of the door. The guest room was nearer to the entrance so your rest was disrupted, and you knew you had to get the door, because Suna was a deep sleeper after a tiring day, which is almost every day. And you were too awake to go back to sleep and ignore it, so you begrudgingly got up in your pajamas still, as you were greeted by the sight of an angry relative of suna’s.

She asked to be let in but you said you can’t because it was Suna’s place and you didn’t have the right so you slammed the door on her face.

"Do I have to?" Suna laid on his bed shirtless while you loomed over him with your death note planner. You were bringing it to appear to look professional, despite the duck pattern on your pants. “We don’t have any appointments this morning, do we?”

"it's err.. your aunt, Suna-san, she’s outside,” translation: go send her away. You want her to leave quickly, you’ve always gotten weird vibes from her and it wasn’t just because she shamelessly asks Suna for money every time she tries to contact him.

"Suna-san? What happened to Rin?"

"That’s what you pick up from what I’ve said? Your aunt is just outside and it's already awkward as it is because I'm the first one she sees in your penthouse. She might get weird ideas."

Suna groans as he sits up, he stays like that for a few seconds before he reaches a hand out to grab you— making you drop your notebook— then he pulls you back down with him. Caging you in his arms, your notebook on the floor, as he starts to close his eyes, planning to fall asleep again.

"This is highly inappropriate and not the time," you try to reason while making no attempts to break out of his hold.

"Not a first time for us. Hm."

"I despise you." lies.

"Sure."

"Get up and go," you say, hitting him on the chest, well, at least attempting to.

"You’re so mean to me [name], I just want to hold you,” he says with that raspy voice of his.

"You are so..." you feel that he can sense that you were upset because he loosens his hold on you, letting you go. You pick up your notebook and make your way into his closet. Suna sits up and frowns, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. You come back out and toss him a shirt.

"Now, go face your aunt," you walk out of his room, going to the kitchen and deciding to make yourself a cup of coffee to calm yourself.

“[name] are you mad?” you hear Suna call from his room.

Are you mad? Honestly? You weren’t really, and that’s what’s bothering you. And then the incessant knocking from the front door starts again, this time, Suna rushed down in sync with the knocks because he hastily put on his shirt and was following after you. You gave him a look and signaled for him to open the door, instead, he walks to your side and tugs on the sleeve of your shirt as you stir your coffee.

You stayed silent, shoulders stiff, and he made no move to leave.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, tugging on your sleeve again.

You sigh, and nod, you can’t really stay mad at him when he’s acting all soft and stuff, how infuriating.

You spread your picnic blanket on the sand and made sure your umbrella was placed sturdily. Today you were at a private beach resort the company rented out for the band’s music video. You’ve had some extra time and carefully planned out your escape before anyone could ask you to do anything else. You could just not do it since it’s not like the company’s the one who’s paying your salary, but you find it difficult to say no, afraid of them thinking you were rude. Plus, lately you’ve been putting yourself out there and saying you’re free to help but now there’s too many people in need of help and only one of you.

You smile contentedly at the little space you’ve made for yourself, the ocean just the right distance away, not too far, not so close you’d get swept away by the water. You slump on the ground and pick up your book.

Finally, some peace, quiet, and relaxation.

“You were here.”

You glared at Suna who was looming over you, blocking the sun and shattering your peaceful escape. How did he even find you?! You didn’t even tell him where you were going, you just said you were going somewhere, this wasn’t an easy place to find either.. Can he not live without you for five minutes?

“Is there anything you need from me?” you ask, giving up the image you had of having total relaxation in your head. You really don’t want to see him right now, not that you’re mad at him, or that he’s done anything wrong— actually that one can be contemplated— but it’s you and your feelings that’s mostly the problem. After that evening you’ve been putting a little distance between the two of you, just a little, you were still doing your job well, but when it comes to outside a boss-employee relationship, you’ve been avoiding him like he was the embodiment of plague. And you know that he knows you’ve been distancing yourself.

Suna crouches, leveling so he could be with you face to face, “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“What? Don’t be ridiculous, if I was avoiding you, I wouldn’t have shown up to work today?” you said with a ‘duh’ tone.

“You know what I meant, playing dumb doesn’t suit you, sweetheart,” there he goes with that endearment yet again— “Do you think I haven’t noticed how unusual you’ve been for the past few days? Leaving earlier than you usually do? Making excuses as to why my personal assistant just has to help out the crew?”

“I’ve done my job properly—”

“You have. But if you have a problem with me, then tell me so I don’t have to guess what’s suddenly making you walk on eggshells around me for days.” Suna’s forehead was scrunched up and he was sitting on the blanket now, clearly upset.

And that’s how your supposed to be peaceful, quiet, and relaxing afternoon reading at the beach turned into Suna’s head resting on your lap, your hand in his hair and him holding onto your hand as he verbally lists things you’ve done that upset him (“unsettled him” is his words but you know that’s just him downplaying that he was upset).

“[name],” the way he mentioned your name was a whisper, something only for you to hear, and your heart starts beating abnormally fast again.. this is why you were ignoring him. “Why can’t we?” he mumbles, he raises the hand he was holding to his face and pressed a light kiss on it, it tingles.

You gulp, “You know why,” you say quietly, choosing to stare out into the vast ocean.

Suna reaches a hand out to cup your face, making you look down at him. He stares at your eyes then drops to your lips, his thumb tracing your bottom lip.

Your breath hitches and in your panic, you stand up suddenly, making his head fall from your lap. Without thinking, you start running towards the waters. You can hear Suna’s laughs distantly, you raise your middle finger at him, still in the middle of running away.

You fumble with the stupid banner as you try to hold it properly, your sunglasses start falling off of your face and you try to catch it while at the same time still trying to hold up your sign properly. The concert was about to start soon and there you were in the pit, your beanie and sunglasses on, the sign you stayed up making held in front of your chest, it was just a simple ‘You’re amazing Suna Rintarou!’ but you were still red faced and was trying to hide yourself as much as possible.

This was stupid. You could’ve just gotten free tickets from Suna himself but you had to buy a ticket with your own money. You wanted to support him by showing that you willingly wanted to do this, which is again, idiotic, cause you were hoping he wouldn’t spot you in the first place.

The concert was the opening one IKARUS will be having for their world tour, and Suna told you about how he was a little nervous about touring after two years, of course, he said it after a little pushing from your end, and he was also grumpy after admitting it. But you were too preoccupied with thinking of a way to show him support for the other stuff to matter. Merely an hour ago you were with him backstage and watching him prepare, giving him your last thumbs up of good luck before running to get your disguise and banner and making your way to the front of the pit. You spent a crazy amount of money on this, but you can’t help but feel that it’s worth it.

Soon you hear the deafening roar of the crowd as the beginning of a fan favorite song plays, a song you’re familiar with as you stayed up with Suna listening and watching him create it.

Akaashi’s voice is the one you hear first, greeting the crowd and making them go feral. It was a good thing you had ear plugs. Concerts really weren’t your thing in general, but then Suna’s voice rang through the stadium as he sang the opening line. You felt the goosebumps on your skin as his voice has always had an effect on you, you find yourself screaming along with the crowd, you really hope he doesn’t notice you.

It was Sakusa who spotted you first, you saw him raise a brow at you. It was in the middle of one of the times where they’re talking to fans and reading signs. You removed your sunglasses because you were starting to feel silly, but then immediately after that you locked eyes with Sakusa, you had a silent conversation with your eyes wide with threat and him glancing from Suna who was doing fan service and reading some of the signs to you who was holding a sign with suna’s name.

You can tell he wants to laugh but refrains from doing so.

“Suna Rintarou, marry me please?” Suna reads aloud, he chuckles, “If you give me a ring then maybe I’ll think about it,” the fans scream and it makes Suna laugh again. He looks like he was born to be on a stage like this, in front of millions of people, he has that kind of presence.

“I want you to be my baby daddy,” Atsumu squinted and pointed at the sign from a fan from a seat a little far away, “Which one of us?” he asks, the fan shouts distantly, ‘all of you!’

The next one you lock eyes with is Atsumu, he was going around the stage singing an awful song while fist bumping fans and when he got to you he was like ‘uhm [name]?’ Of course he didn't say it out loud but you could see it in his eyes so you hastily bump his fist as he moved to the other fans. Then it was Akaashi taking over the crowd and saying how much their fans mean to them. Meanwhile, you were trying your best not to respond to the burning gaze on the side of your head Atsumu was making.

The next song was starting and this one had a guitar solo from Suna. You can’t help but think that the way he works his guitar looks really.. It's really hot. The fans think so too since they won’t stop screaming.

It was at the final act where you see Atsumu talking to Suna and subtly pointing in your direction. You were going to kill him! You try to hide yourself behind your sign but you know it’s too late because you feel Suna’s familiar gaze on you already. Defeated, you lower your sign and let yourself lock eyes with him. He had a small smile on his face the whole time they played the last song.

As the concert reached its end, you were in the private parking lot because that was where your car was parked along with the band’s and the other staff's vehicles. You were rushing to put the sign in your car when someone called your phone.

You saw that it was Suna who was calling you so you promptly ignored it and fixed your bag. You jump when someone’s arms wrap around your waist and pull you into their chest, “Why aren’t you answering my calls, hm?”

“I- uhm- eh?” you were malfunctioning.

He turns you around to face him, arms still wrapped around your waist as he pushes you to lean on the car. One of his hands leaves your waist and trails his touch to the side of your face, “You watched me?” he hums and cups your cheek. His simple touch was making your knees weak. “Did you enjoy the concert?”

You nod, still not having the right words.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going to watch?” Suna asks, leaning down to rest his forehead on yours.

“It was supposed to be a secret,” you mumble, avoiding looking into his eyes, managing to form a response despite the way he was so close to your face makes you so flustered.

“You could just tell me I’m amazing anytime you want to,” he teases, and your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” playing dumb is your go-to reaction.

You were met with silence, you could feel Suna’s gaze stuck on you, but right now you were worried that people were going to be here soon to get their cars—

“I want to kiss you,” Suna says, those words made you look up at him, your mind going blank. “I know what you’re going to say; that we can’t do it again, I know, but, I really want to kiss you right now,” he says. Your face was heating up, he was so unfair.

But.. but maybe you can let him off this time, only once, just once, this would be the last, just a peck, you convince yourself. You stand on your tip toes and reach for his lips, barely brushing against it before pulling away. Suna takes his time processing what just happened.

“T-There–” you don’t even get to start a sentence before he captures your lips into his once again. This time with his hand on your nape and him deepening the kiss.

“Rin,” you say in a gasp, “People will be here soon and your manager would be looking for you, what if they see us like this,” you manage to get those words out before he leans in to chase your lips again but you put a hand over your face to block him.

“Let them watch,” Suna says, placing a kiss on the base of your throat, trailing it up your neck, he then gently removes the hand on your face, kissing your palm before giving you a light kiss on the tip of your nose then he takes his time kissing you on your lips. A relief you've dreaded to have washed over you, but right now, you were too lost in him to care.

note: im back!! and ready to write lmao ive been so busy

[thiefoflight68]

A Cowboy in Chaps

Sero x Fem!Reader

Writing my new MHA Baku/Deku Western AU and wrote a hot scene with Sero/Ochako side ship. Turned it into a Sero x Reader for a little fun!! Hope you enjoy. I had to do a little editing to have it make sense. When the story is finished, I'll be posting!!

Smut - DNI if under 18.

Just posted this story!! Second Chance Ranch!

🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠

“Okay,”  Gathering his reins, Shinsou smiles at you. “Thanks for coming out to watch us race the new filly,” he tips his hat, “but we gotta get back to the ranch.”  Looking over his shoulder at the others.  “You guys comin’?”  

“I, uh, yeah, I’m comin’.” Sero can’t take his eyes off of you.  Your hair is swept back, exposing your long neck and those short shorts you love to wear in this unseasonable heat.  Your legs are milky white and smooth as silk.

“Actually, Sero,” you think for a moment.  “My disposal crapped out on me, can you help?”

“Katsuki’s the mechanic,” Shinsou motions to the blonde trying to get back on his horse.

Trying to swing his leg into the stirrup, Katsuki gives up and nods.  “I can fix it.”

“It’s alright,” Sero doesn’t look away from you, “I’ll do it.”  Riding up next to you, he takes his foot out of the stirrup.  “Wanna ride behind me down to your house?”  He gives you a wolfish grin.

“Only if Miss Celie will let me,” you giggle, petting the gray mare's nose. 

“Since when do you fix disposals?”  Shinsou snorts.

“You know,” Sero helps you on the back of his horse.  “I did have a life before this ranch, I know my way around tools and machines.”

“Right,” Shinsou rolls his eyes.  “Didn’t you lose the wrench in the tractor engine that time?”

Flipping him off, Sero starts down to the lower pasture.  “Hold on babe,” he whispers.  Your arms wrap around him as you press into his back.  Kicking Celie, he urges her into a jog.  “That disposal needs urgent attention,” he teases.

“SSeeerrrooo,” you laugh as Celie shakes your body in a teeth chattering jog.  Holding on as tightly as possible you try to stop from bouncing.

“That’s it,” Sero wiggles his back so he can feel the softness of your breasts.  Pinching his stomach, you bury your face in his back.  “OW!”  He laughs, “sorry babe.”

“Stopppp!”  You wail again laughing at the same time.

“Look, your house is right there,” easing Celie back to a walk, he stops by the front door.  “Best taxi in town,” helping you dismount, he slides off behind you.  Loosening the girth, he pulls off Celie’s bridle.  From the corner of his eye, he can see you brushing off your thighs.

“What was I thinking?”  You mutter, gray horse hair stuck to your legs.  Suddenly arms are around your middle as Sero sweeps you into the air and over his shoulder.  “HEY!”  His hand swats your ass.  “SERO!”

“Ma’am, you are cleaning the very legs I fully intend on taking care of myself.”  Opening the door, he ducks so that you can clear the frame easily.  “I will ask you to refrain from further touching of these fine silky legs,” he kisses one very milky thigh.  “And…” tossing you onto the bed, he smiles as you burst into giggles, “let me clean them myself.”

“It’s just sweat and horse hair,” you sit up and open your legs lined with a thick line of coarse hair.  “I’m taking a shower.”

“No, ma’am,” Sero jumps on the bed and pushes you down, holding your wrists, his hat set back on his head.  He dips down to kiss your neck and licks to your ear.  You shiver under his touch.

“I have to get back to the ranch soon, so if you don’t mind.”  He slides off the bed, lifting one hand and runs to your bathroom.  “Hang on, okay.”  He slams the door.

Getting up on your elbows, you grin, he is so damn handsome.  Hearing rustling and water running, you tap your finger on the comforter.  “Um, Sero?”  No answer.  “You said you have to get going soon?”  Tipping your head, you stare up at the ceiling, what the hell was he doing?  “You know it takes me a while to cum baby, so better get going on things, since you have to go back.”  

“Well then, let’s get started,” Sero steps cockily into your room.

“Finally-” You stare at the man in front of you.  In one hand he has a towel but… “Sero?”  A giggle bursts out.

“You like it?”  He spins around and wiggles his hips.  He’s completely naked except for his hat and chaps.  His white ass peeking out from behind and as he turns back around, his dick, swollen and hard, standing proudly out of the front.  He’d already slid on his condom.  “Now stay still ma’am, while I take care of you.”

“Cowboy,” your face flushes a bright red, “you are so twisted.”  Laughing, you reach out for him, “ and so ingenious… I like it.”  

“No ma’am,” he jerks back from your hands.  “Sorry, you are just too dirty to touch such a pristine cowboy such as myself,” he licks his lips.  “Spread those pretty legs for me first.”  Pushing you legs open, he kneels down and slowly wipes up your thigh, tracing behind the washcloth with his tongue.  “You taste like my horse.”

“That…” you close your eyes as he nibbles on your skin, “sounds like a fantasy too big for me to unpack right now.”  He chuckles and bites you harder.  You suck in a sharp breath as his hand dips into the tight leg of your shorts, searching.  “I’ll just take them off,” he swats at you with his other hand.

“I believe I asked you to remain still?”  He begins cleaning your other leg as his fingers push deeper into your shorts.  

“Okay…” you breathe out, wiggling your hips impatiently, giving him room to slip under your panties.

“These are indecently tight,” Sero kisses you, leaving tiny marks as he nips your tender skin.

“But…” he’s swirling his finger now on your clit, closing your eyes, you buck against his fingertip in the rhythm you like.  “It’s so hot,” you breathe out in a long sigh as the waves of pleasure spread outward, the beginning, damn, you love this part.

“Mmmm,” his mouth covers your shorts just below his fingers and he breathes out a long sigh, letting his hot breath heat up the jean fabric.  Biting through the thickness, he hears you gasp, your fingers sinking into his hair.

“Off…please.”

Sitting up, he stills his hand.  “You want me off?”

“Dammit Sero,” you laugh, lifting your hips off the bed, “my shorts not you!”  His black eyes glitter as he sits back on his heels and sets his cowboy hat on your dresser.  Your eyes drift down to his hard cock.  Your pussy tightens in response, as the sweet tension starts to build with each rock of your hips.  “Please…”  His finger starts again, clutching your comforter, you groan.  “Not enough,” looking up at him, you smile, “cowboy.”

Yanking your button loose, he tugs your shorts off and tosses them onto the floor with your panties.  “Damn, you are beautiful,” his eyes sweeping up your creamy legs to your stark white skin and thick lips of your pussy.  He blinks.  “(Y/N)?”

Blushing a bright red, you pull a pillow over your face.  “Do you like it?”

“I.. it’s..” Gulping hard, he laughs.  “Hell yes!  Look at you!!  Your skin is sooo white,” he traces your newly bare skin with his hand, you buck upwards.  “Did it hurt?”

“Yeah, I’ve been wanting to, but was afraid you wouldn’t like it.”

“Ma’am?”  You peek out from the pillow.  “Please refer to exhibit A here, which is evidence that I do indeed like it.”

Moving the pillow, you notice that his cock is standing straight up now, twitching, a load of precum dripping down inside his rubber.  Lunging up and pulling him down over your body, you wrap legs around his waist, his chaps rubbing roughly on your skin.  “Fuck me then, cowboy.”

“With that enticing new patch of milky goodness?”  He untangles your legs from his body, “I’m afraid I’m gonna need to inspect you a bit closer first.”  His mouth trails down as he licks at the fresh skin.

“Oh!” you gasp, “that feels strange.”

“It tastes delicious,” rubbing his mouth over you, his tongue finds your clit and presses down, he rubs hard.

“T-Too much!”  You try to bounce up, but grabbing your butt, he flips your hips up, your head burys into your pillows.  He latches onto your clit and sucks, digging his tongue into the sweet center, squeezing your legs around his head, you pant.  “There, but.. but not so hard.”  

He doesn’t stop, shaking his head to get his face deeper, he knows what you like.  Your hips jerk and your legs squeeze, telling him he’s on target.  His mouth full of your clit and pussy, he hums as he pushes two fingers inside of your wet warmth.  Working them in tandem, he strokes just inside, directly behind your clit.  You spasm under him.  That’s the spot.  Keeping up the unrelenting assault on your pussy and clit, you writhe and groan, until the telltale jerk of your pussy walls tells him your close.  Letting up a bit, you squirm looking for his mouth.

“Seroooo…” your groan catches in your throat as he finishes you off with one long sucking motion on you clit.  

Your muscles clench and heave as you cry out, wetness gushes around his fingers and down his chin.  Licking you clean, he pulls back and lowers your ass down on the bed.  “Ma’am?”  You just groan and roll on your side.  “I thought you said it takes you a long time to cum?”  

Laughing, you smack his thigh, your fingers brushing the worn leather of his chaps.  “Cowboy, you are unhinged,” you smile up at him shyly.  “It just takes forever when you’re not around.”

“That is a crying shame,” lowering on his elbows, he pushes up your shirt, freeing your breasts from your bra.  Licking around the nipple, he watches as it puckers stiff and hard.  “I think then we need to make time for you to cum again.”  Sucking on your hard nub, he rubs his cock between your thighs, soaking himself with your cum.  Sliding slowly into your pussy, he pushes into you gently.  Your breath is ragged.  “(Y/N),” he sighs as he pushes deep inside you body, “you feel so fucking good.”   Your muscles clench around him as you spread your legs wider giving him another few inches of depth, which he takes pushing himself to the hilt.  “Damn, you are a fine filly.”

“I am,” panting now, you squeeze his cock, sucking it into your body.  “Cum for me cowboy,” you drawl playfully.  

Sweat beads his forehead as he begins to stroke inside you, making sure to pull all the way out and rub on your sweet spot just inside your pussy.  Balancing on one hand, he lays his palm against your newly bare skin and begins to work your clit.  “I believe I need you to cum and squeeze my dick real nice and hard to suck me dry.”

“Uh, huh, okay,” you can’t think, you’d agree to riding butt-naked across town at this point.  His finger is going too fast but his dick is too slow, you shake your head impatiently.  “Sero, together, same rhythm.”

“Oh no,” he smiles knowingly, tapping now at your clit as he pushes his cock deep inside taking his time, letting you feel every inch.  “I know you like to be fucked slow as molasses, but this spot is where you feel it.”  He shakes his finger on your clit fast causing your hips jerk up under him, slamming his cock deeper inside.  Gritting his teeth, he holds still but you're wiggling and bucking under him.  “Hold on,” he hisses trying to stay in control.

Hearing him so close to the edge, you clench your muscles and hug his dick, moving in time with his finger which is moving so fast, jolts are ripping through you one after another.  “Come… on… cowboy,” you're panting harder as you pull him in deeper.  Grinding against you, you laugh it feels so fucking good, then pulls out, so slowly, your shiver as he hits the very entrance of your pussy and then with short quick shallow pumps, his finger and dick snap the tension and everything falls apart at once.

Your pussy is vibrating your coming so hard, pushing deep he reveles in the way your body flexes and squeezes him until his own orgasm hits.  A pulling deep in his balls as the intense pleasure pushes through him, moaning as he cums.  “(Y/N), babe.”  He pumps into you a few more times as his balls finally settle.  Laying on his side, he grabs you and snuggles with you.  He can feel his cum trickling from the condom as his body twitches with the last of his orgasm.  “That was…”

“Unexpected,” you kiss his bare chest and sigh heavily, enjoying the feeling drifting through your body.

“What?”  That answer was not what he was expecting.

“Well,” you look up at him and smile lazily.  “How often do you come over during the day?”

“Oh,” he chuckles, “that kind of unexpected, you’re right.”  You let out a long breath and kiss his chest.  Closing his eyes, he curls around you.

“When do you have to go?”  

Leaning back, he slips off his condom and tosses it into the trash, then grabbing his phone, he opens the timer and sets it for two hours.

“Sero? But… don’t you have to get back?”

“I believe I had to go into town and get you a new disposal.”  He hugs you tight and relaxes letting your bodies mold together.  “Let’s just enjoy each other for a bit.”

“I like that,” you close your eyes, letting his warmth wash over you.  His breathing is quiet and even, his heart thumping under your ear.  

“But, ma’am,” he interrupts the quiet.  “I do believe there might be further inspection needed of your glorious pussy after we take a rest.”  He feels your body shaking as a giggle escapes.

“Okay cowboy,” you snuggle deeper and sigh contentedly.

[spotsandsocks]

Something Worth Staying For

🥳Happy Birthday to the wonderful creative supportive @cowboy-buddie who makes this fandom so much fun for me. Love ya Kels Please accept this little gift, my attempt at an enemies to friends to lovers AU. 5 chapters 1 coming at you everyday (so I have time to finish the last chapter🤣)

Chapter 1 2.4K Read on AO3

Living in a small town wasn’t for everyone but Eddie liked it. When he and Chris had settled here he hadn’t been sure but slowly the place had gotten under his skin and now he was as good as a local. Well almost, Chim still called him cowboy sometimes, but Eddie had decided ignoring that was the best plan and it had mostly worked. Chim only called him that these days when he wanted to be particularly annoying. Not that he doesn’t love Chim, the man has become like his brother. In fact he’s built a small family for himself and Chris here. It turns out taking a job at a small town newspaper was the best idea he’s had in years. He’s never quite gotten over the surprise of his new boss, the paper’s editor waiting for him with his wife outside Eddie’s new front door on the day they arrived.

Bobby and Athena had been there from the start ready with a home cooked meal for their first night in town, helping them unpack, and essentially making him and Chris feel more welcome than Eddie had ever expected when he’d nervously said yes to a fresh start  and moved himself and his son halfway across the country after his divorce was finalized. 

Now he’s made a home here and has an extended family he loves dearly. It’s almost perfect. Except, he does get a little lonely sometimes, Chris is getting older and  when he’s busy and Eddie’s all alone in his house he sometimes wishes that he had someone to share his life with, he’d dated a few of the women in town but nothing had clicked. Not that he was especially bothered by the failure, he hadn’t actually really liked any of them but it would be nice to have someone special.

He’s been here almost three years now and it seems pretty unlikely that he’s going to find his dream partner, after all what are the chances of the  perfect person just turning up in Eagle Creek one day and being interested in a thirty year old single dad holding down a quiet job writing local news stories for a small town paper. 

“Eddie?”

Eddie looks up and takes a breath. 

Whatever he’d been expecting when Bobby said his name it wasn’t to see the man standing next to him. He’s tall, well built to say the least, with sandy hair which might have been blonde or brown depending on the light, and extremely blue eyes. There’s a mark of some kind over his left eye and he wonders if it’s a bruise or something more permanent. It doesn’t diminish the man’s good looks in fact in Eddie’s opinion it enhances them. Frankly he’s gorgeous. Eddie knows he finds men as attractive if not more attractive at times than women but he’s never particularly felt the urge to investigate where those thoughts could take him. He’s not a casual kind of guy and the trouble with gorgeous people is they so very often know it and in his personal (and relatively limited) experience that does very little for their personality. 

This  guy is so pretty he’s probably a complete jerk. 

Despite those warning bells as they  look at each other the stranger smiles and Eddie can’t help how his eyes flick down then back up again almost immediately, it's a nice smile. A little shy, almost sweet even. The guy isn’t giving off any particularly arrogant jackass vibes. Eddie wants to but he doesn’t let himself look again, turning his head to focus on Bobby instead.  Actually the new guy looks a lot like Bobby, maybe he’s his nephew or something, just visiting. 

Eddie returns his boss and friend’s smile, feeling strangely apprehensive for some reason. Maybe it’s because Bobby looks guilty. Eddie recognises the slightly shifty expression on the older man’s face. What has he done?

He finds out quickly.

“Eddie this is um, Buck. He’s uh…  he’s going to be working here.” Bobby won’t look at him and is rubbing his hand across his chin nervously. 

Well that’s unexpected. Eddie can’t help the sudden sharp furrow of surprise and suspicion on his brow. Bobby hadn’t mentioned anything about someone new. Do they really need someone new? Eddie hadn’t thought so in fact he’s mildly irritated by the news. Why hadn’t he been told? He looks at this ‘Buck’ person again with fresh eyes. Maybe he does look like a bit of a jerk after all. 

Jerk or not he’s still ridiculously good looking and Eddie can just imagine the stir someone who looks like Buck is going to cause in town. Nightmare, he can expect a stream of people asking him for the new guy at the paper’s number. Urgh... Just what he needs.

Bobby’s still talking, “so Buck is gonna be helping with some stuff, improvements I guess you could call it.”

Blue eyes sparkle and the man beams.  What kind of name is Buck anyway?   And really who needs to be that handsome, it’s just excessive. And wait did Eddie just hear Bobby say improvements? A sinking feeling hits him, oh no,  he didn’t actually do it did he? Bobby’s been threatening to do something about the computers since before Eddie arrived, surely he hasn’t finally done it has he?

The scowl on Eddie’s face deepens and he fails to notice the smile slipping from his new colleague’s face.

“Buck and his sister have just moved here, Maddie’s a nurse and Buck here is…” Bobby pauses and Eddie’s suspicions grow. Bobby can’t quite meet his eye. Yeah he has a bad feeling about this, there can only be one reason Bobby’s springing this on him now. Only one thing this guy is here to do. 

Still looking anywhere than at him, Bobby takes a breath and reveals Buck’s role  at the paper.

“Well Buck here, he’s well, he’s a bit of a computer whizz and kind of a social media consultant.” He says those three words quickly and moves on. “He’s going to upgrade our IT, get us online and run the “socials.” Bobby  glances  proudly at Buck for getting the word right. 

Eddie doesn’t register the responding shy and pleased smile from the younger man all he notices are the air quotes dropping in around ‘Socials’ 

The word is unfamiliar and unwelcome on Bobby's lips. Frankly he feels a little betrayed, why hasn’t he been told? He bets Karen knew  which means Hen knew and that means Chimney does as well. They’ve all probably been very  amused about how badly he’ll take it. He also thought Bobby felt the same way about the perils of the internet as he did. It’s not that he can’t use it. He has a smart phone, he can download apps just fine thank you and while it’s a running joke around here that Eddie doesn’t ‘do’ technology he’s not actually an idiot. If he wants to, he can use computers just fine, he’ll accept that the internet is vaguely useful and if he wanted to have ‘socials’ he would. He just doesn’t choose to because it stupid and pointless and you can’t really trust the internet,  no one's ever been able to convince him his phone isn’t listening to him.

Buck draws his attention back from Bobby when he speaks for the first time with what Eddie considers an unnecessarily smug quirk of his mouth,  “I’m here to drag you all into the 21st century.”

“I’m fine where I am, thank you.” His voice sounds cold even to himself.

Despite glaring at new guy he catches Bobby's wince out of the corner of his eye. He knows he sounds positively hostile but he’s annoyed. The newest member of the team obviously recognises that too because the smile vanishes.

Eddie doesn’t feel bad for being unwelcoming. Not even a little bit.

Bobby sighs wearily, “This is why I didn’t tell you. You know we need to modernize. It’ll be good for us. We can reach more people, be faster, it’ll make things easier for everyone.”

Bobby pauses obviously hoping for something back. He doesn’t get it so he just shrugs, “It’s going to happen Eddie .”

“You’re the boss Bobby.” There that was neutral, mostly.

Eddie stands, avoiding eye contact with both men. “I’m going out to get lunch.” 

He doesn’t offer to get anything for anyone, which he knows is rude but he doesn’t care much right now..

Eddie lets the door behind him slam on his way out.

Bobby sighs dramatically next to him as  Buck keeps his expression as blank as he can; that did not go well. That went very badly indeed.

“That was actually ok, I was worried he’d take it worse.” 

Buck turns slowly to stare at his new boss a little incredulously. Bobby thinks that went well? Shit how bad does this Eddie guy get?

When they’d walked in Buck had been taken aback by the man sitting behind the desk. His dark hair and soft brown eyes had looked inviting for a moment. He’d smiled softly and something had tripped and fluttered in his chest. He was a damn attractive man and then when he’d started scowling at him well Buck’s always liked a challenge but he’s not stupid. He knows instant dislike when he sees it.

It’s too bad he would have liked to have made a friend. At least he has Maddie to keep him company.

“He’s not particularly friendly is he?” 

Bobby chuckles dryly,  “He is, once you get to know him. He’s a really great guy.  I think you too could be good friends.” Another sigh as Bobby looks towards the door,  “It’s my fault, I did surprise him. I’ve been putting off telling him about you. it’s just  he really does hate computers.”

Buck arches an eyebrow at the door the hot angry man had just walked out of.

“I can tell.”

“Whoah man! Mind my door.”

Chimney looks up from behind the counter where he’s just finished pouring a coffee. 

“What’s got you all twisty.”

Eddie glowers at him, “Nothing, just come for my lunch. Is that a crime?”

“Delightful mood I see?”  Karen’s voice floats over from where she’s working on her laptop at one of Chimney’s tables.

He turns, as expected she’s staring  at him, unimpressed. She fixes him with a penetrating stare which he avoids. He’s very aware he’s in a bad mood and she should know why,  after all everyone else has been told. 

He can’t help the snap in his voice, “So why aren’t you in the office to greet our new colleague.”

Karen’s eyebrows lift eloquently. He knows she knows but will she admit it?  God he’s annoyed. He doesn’t really know why he’s so upset either. Except maybe there was a moment when he looked into blue eyes that he’d felt something only to have it washed away by Bobby’s words and his rush of irritation.

Karen sips her latte coolly, “I’m a free spirit Diaz, I go wherever I want and right now I want to be here because I like it here, I get to see my wife and she brings me coffee and I get to eat Chimney’s pastries. 

She pauses and looks at him with far too much insight.

“So he’s here then.”

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Chim retreat.  

He knew, she knew! Everyone but him, his irritation rises again, he can just imagine it don’t tell Eddie, he’ll freak out! He’ll make a fuss.

He ignores the tiny voice inside him saying 'and were they wrong? You’re not exactly winning employee of the month right now are you?' He ignores that and  lets the comforting haze of indignation wash over him. 

“So you did know! Charming.” Karen’s admission really does nothing to improve his mood.

Karen rolls her eyes at  him. “Oooh you really are in a snit aren’t you? Poor guy can’t have upset you already. He’s not even been here a day.”

“And…” she says with a waggle of her finger “you can’t blame Bobby for putting it off. Every time he’s so much as mentioned going online you pull a face.” She nods at him, “Yeah that one.”

 He quickly wipes the expression away,  “and you sulk for at least a day.”

“I do not.”

Another voice joins in, “You do.”

Chimney’s contribution is as unwelcome as this ‘Buck’ back at his office is.

However Chimney is as resistant to his glaring as Karen is. 

“Ok so maybe I do a bit,” he admits it reluctantly “But we don’t need to go online and we certainly don’t need that guy.”

“I’ve heard he is very good at his job annnnnd…” Karen adds nonchalantly, getting somewhere close to the hidden heart of his discomfort  “I’ve seen his picture, online , “ he throws her yet another narrow eyed glare for that jibe “and if I wasn’t a happily married lesbian I’d say he’s hot. He’s going to be a popular boy round here!” 

She laughs at the noise he makes.

“He’s not that good looking” he lies because he can, “and I don’t have to like him.”

Karen stands up folding her laptop as she does. She looks more serious, teasing gone. 

“No you don’t but you do have to work with him. And the poor guy’s not done anything wrong.”

He hangs onto his resentment justified or not, he’s no longer so sure, and answers with a single surly word and sits down.

“Yet.” 

“Eddie,” Karen sighs his name, “You’re being unreasonable and you know it.”

“Perhaps I like being unreasonable.” He leans back in his chair and folds his arms then unfolds them because it looks too defensive and he doesn’t want to prove her right.

Karen shakes her head, “Go play nice with the new kid or Bobby will put you in time out.”

Eddie ignores her. He’s not sure why but this Buck guy is already under his skin. 

Karen moves towards the door, “I’m going to go meet him, you’ll be back soon right?” 

He mutters “Sure” and accepts the warning look he gets from his friend. “I’ll be polite, promise.”

He can be polite to this new guy, he is  a professional  after all and it’ll be fine. He probably won’t have  too much to do with him anyway. 

Eddie waits for his order and wonders how annoying can one guy be? 

[dragonbreth]

cry fest| Baby mama AU 2

Warnings: swearing, 18+ ideas, smut, teen mom

Authors note: first time writing smut so bear with me!

_________________________________________

Mark had walked off with your 4 year old son, you didn’t think in the moment that you had just handed a random man your child. Your mind blanked for a few minutes as you stood staring at the spot where mark once stood.

About 20 minutes later mark returned with your child. “Hey baby mama! Here’s baby- wait. Why don’t you have a hat?” He asked “my friend took mine” you laughed, before you could say anything more you felt the weight of something being placed on your head.

You heard O’s coming from some of the boys near by. “Cowboy rule! Cowboy rule! Cowboy rule!” A few of marks friends chanted “shit! I forgot about that..” he said lowly “forgot about what?” You asked quietly afraid of the answer. “Where the cowboy hat, ride the cowboy.” Mark answered with a smirk looping his finger in to your belt loops.

“Uhm what?” You asked bluntly, before you knew it mark handed Logan to your nearby friend and was dragging you upstairs to his room. You didn’t know what was going to happen.

You walked into the room, looked at mark and then felt a sudden urge. You grabbed marks face and pressed yours against his harshly. “Whoa cowgirl, calm down.” He replied with another smirk.

“I want you. I need you.” You told him out of breath, you threw your hat in the floor and started to undress. You laid on the bed waiting for mark to help you.

“Oh ok.” He said bending down slowly to your legs, you spread your legs and waited for mark to start. He stuck one finger in and pumped a few times, then two, then three before he could feel your pussy tighten around his fingers. “Wow your tight baby.” He said softly.

You leaned up and grabbed the collar of his shirt, “fuck me please” you begged. You were never the type to beg but he had you feeling a type of way.

Half way through your stomach started to turn. We’re you getting nervous? “Can we stop” you asked barely above a whisper “speak up princess” mark responded “can we stop” you asked again “did I do something wrong?” He questioned “no! No! It’s me.” You said as you pulled your clothes back on.

Walked out of the room and into a bathroom nearby and slammed the door. You fell to the ground and started crying, everything going through your head was about Garrett. We’re you scared mark would do the same? Silly you, mark and you weren’t dating. Your in over your head.

___________________

This one’s shorter but I wanted to get the second chapter out by tonight since I won’t be able to post tomorrow.

[britswriting]

Fallen For You H.S | AU - Three

Fallen For You Masterlist - find description here

Read on Wattpad

Rancher!HarryxPlus-sziedOC

🦋Delaney🦋

I tucked my phone into the back pocket of my jean shorts, bending down to pull up my ankle sock that annoyingly kept falling down my heel in my boot before quickly going down the rickety wooden steps; feeling them flex underneath my weight.

I knew we needed to redo the deck, but it really makes a girl feel good when the floor flexes under your feet.

I was met with a few of the dogs who followed me to Harry's door, my knuckles stinging slightly from how hard I knocked against it; wincing, I rubbed them, awaiting him to open the door. Trying a few more times, I was met with no response.

Did he leave?

I raised my hand again, ready to knock one or two more when I heard "Delaney" behind me, quickly spinning around on my heel, almost tripping over Milo in the process who quickly moved out of the way. "What are you doing?" he asked, sounding.. assertive yet confused? I couldn't quite place it. Intrigued, maybe?

"I was looking for you" I replied, "My dad said I had to show you around the place. Are you uh, ready?" I questioned, taking a quick glance at him, swallowing the saliva that once again accumulated in the back of my throat.

His hair looked like his fingers had recently run through it, hair strains tossed to the side; even dangling slightly against his forehead. The scruff on his face was starting to grow in, telling me he hadn't shaved that morning. No matter how desperate I wanted to linger on his facial hair and lips, my eyes continued down. A black snug t-shirt, blue jeans, same expensive looking cowboy boots that Louie tried to ruin.

He looked just as he always does. If it wasn't for the new shirt, I would've just assumed he grabbed the same clothes off the floor from the night before, until I looked closer.

A new belt buckle and no brown staining on his thighs and knees told me he put in some effort; even if that didn't include shaving or doing his hair.

I couldn't help but giggle to myself when I realized my outfit didn't match his at all.

I was wearing dark wash blue jean shorts - unlike Harry, whose were more of a medium wash; a tucked in loose t-shirt - a need when you're working in the heat, and even down to my white ankle boots screamed opposite.

"What?" He asked, my head titling.

"Hm?"

"You laughed" He said, my eyes widening slightly.

Shit

That wasn't in my head?

"Oh.. uh" I nervously chuckled, "I just uh.. we're so different" I giggled again, looking down at my shoes before looking back at Harry.

"What?"

"Our outfits, they're very different" I pointed at his jeans and tight fit shirt, then my shorts, grabbing the loose fabric that was bunched up where it was tucked into my shorts to hopefully get my point across.

"Why are you wearing shorts?" He asked, not sounding like a question, more like an accusation.

What's wrong with wearing shorts?

I looked down at my legs, confused.

Did he have a problem with me wearing shorts?

"Because it's hot?" I hesitantly responded, noticing his gaze lingered on my legs, beginning to make anxious thoughts swarm my head.

I chewed on the inside of my lip as I fought the urge to hide my legs.

Should I have worn pants?

But it's hot out. Sweltering even. If I had worn jeans, they would've chaffed my thighs, or stuck to my skin, and or even ripped. Shorts felt like the best option for functionality.

Harry stayed silent and I sighed, debating if I should change or not.

I waffled for a few seconds before deciding to screw him and just stay in my shorts.

Who was he to tell me what to wear? If he didn't like my thick thighs he can get lost. He's here to help us, not the other way around.

"Alright, well" I I sighed, glancing down at Milo, giving him a quick pet before moving to walk in front of Harry, Milo following me, knowing it was breakfast time. "We better get working" I continued, my back to him. "First step is the barn so I can feed the dogs and cats and show you where certain feeds are"

Harry and I opened the big barn doors, a smile plastered to my face as I was met with our beautiful horses; the grin quickly vanishing when the waft of horse manure filled my nostrils.

Yuck.

"Welcome to Fallen Ranch!" I laughed, ready to joke that the work was about to begin, but once again, Harry was hot on my heels with his reply.

"Oh, I thought it was fall in. Like fallin' apart" He.. joked? I think it was a joke? Was it not? He was joking right?

I frowned, "Falling a part?" I asked, Harry nodded as he looked around the barn. "That's rude" I grumbled, moving over to a workbench that was against one of the walls; a stack of food bowls ready to be filled.

I started laying them out in front of me, reaching for the scoop in the dog food bag, ready to pour it in when our bitch of a cat jumped onto the workbench.

"Keep your nasty paws out of Leo's food!" I scolded, scooping the calico cat off my work bench and gently tossing her to the floor, "Dogs first you little brat" Sassy mowed at me, jumping back up, "Sass-a-frass! You're a freeloader! You don't do shit around here— DON'T EAT THAT!" I yelled, her head dipped into Opal's food bowl. "Oh my god" I groaned, beginning to feel overwhelmed.

"What the hell are you yelling about?" Harry grumbled, opening one of the horse stalls that lead to the fenced in outdoor grazing area, starting to let out the horses for the morning.

"My sister's bitch of a cat is eating my dog's food" I grumbled, my eyes widening when the work bench wobbled, Knox's front paws resting on the edge. "Get down!" I scolded, Knox immediately jumping down, my hand grabbing the cat and removing her yet again. "Can you help me, please?" I asked, wanting to get these dogs fed before it all landed on the floor from either Knox or Sassy.

"That is not a part of my job description" he snapped back

"Yeah well shoving my foot up your ass isn't mine either but the days still early!" I snapped, having had enough of everyone's attitudes.

I like to think I'm a pretty patient person, but my fuse runs short when the cause is days, if not weeks long.

Everyone has a snapping point, right?

"Days still young" he replied, leaning against one of the wooden support beams in the barn, watching me.

"What?"

"It's "Days still young" Days still early just sounds stupid" He corrected, pushing the right button to make me give any less of a fuck than I thought was possible.

What's this guys problem?

"You know what?" I huffed, immediately getting interrupted before I could continue.

"What? Enlighten me" Harry replied, not missing a beat as the forming smirk popped a dimple yet again.

I swear my eyes had hearts in them, even though I wanted to shove him out of my way and never see him again.

How can one be so cocky and disrespectful?

I swear I'd walk miles for this man with sores on the bottom of my feet, and it still wouldn't be enough.

"I don't need your help anyway. I was doing' just fine without you" I finished, setting down Knox's food bowl since he was right here before setting down the others all holding Sassy in my arm, ringing the food bell and waiting for the four legged little helpers to come get breakfast.

"If I recall, your family desperately hired me because of how much you needed me" he smirked, his egotistical aura making me want to scream.

Why did I think he was to die for again?

"So you feed off the poor?" I questioned, the ick starting to form deep down, even as his stupid dimple popping smirk wanted to make me do irrational things to him.

Harry's arms crossed over his chest and his lips formed a line, "Aren't you supposed to be showing me around? Isn't that your job?" He emphasized, apparently ready to move on from a conversation I was very ready to have.

This man was infuriating in an annoyingly sexy way that it was truly starting to piss me off.

I walked him through the barn, showing him where everything way; Harry adding Hay to the troughs whilst I put in fresh water.

The bucket of manure always made me gag, even when I was a kid; thankfully I ran away before he could try and make that my problem.

"How many damn dogs do y'all have?" Harry asked, his tone causing a frown to tug at my lips as Harlow, Knox, Daphine and Milo gathered, eager to work.

"They come in pairs of two, besides the Pyrenees. There are three. Knox and Harlow are the cattle herders" I explained, climbing over the fence much to Harlow's dismay, "Grab the shovel, we got shit to clean up, literally" I laughed, wobbling slightly as the heel of my ankle boot got caught on the top of the barbed wire fence almost sending me straight into a pile of cow poop, Harry's chuckle was heard over my instinctive shriek of horror and disgust as my heart dropped to my stomach. "You could've helped ya know"

"Why would I do that?" He asked as I watched my step, my nose wrinkling at the smell.

People say when you live on a farm you get used to all the smells; but that was never my truth.

"Because a decent human thing to do when someone is falling is try and help them" I huffed, seeing out of the corner of my eye, our female Border Collie's front paws on the fence. "Harlow, wait" I instructed, showing her the palm of my hand, silently telling her to stay.

"Here, you can do that whilst I feed them" Harry said, dangling the pooper scooper shovel over the fence, ignoring my comment about human decency. Typical.

"Why can't I feed them?" I argued, really not wanting to clean up cow poop in my white ankle boots.

"Your farm" He shot back, still holding out the shovel.

My brow raised, "You're the rancher. If I recall, picking up shit is apart of your job"

"Then why are you the one in the pen, and I'm the one over here?" he smirked. I swear my knees buckled a little when his dimple popped yet again.

God the things I'd give to lick it, or kiss it.

His pink lips looked so inviting.

I could feel my body start to become mush. The inside of my stomach felt all warm and gooey as my knees metaphorically buckled; ready to give in at any moment.

God damnit! Get a grip Delaney!

Can't you focus more on how frustratingly annoying he is? And less on how kissable he looks right now? I mentally scolded, but the thought of kissing him made me start to wander again.

I bet he gives the best kisses. Sweet, warm, just enough passion to make you yearn for me; knowing his asshole tendencies, he'd leave you to suffer though. Tease you. Make you want more.

His big strong arms would hold you so soft and tight. Comfort and protect you in all the heartwarming ways. His green eyes would look at you so lovingly it would hurt.

"Delaney" Harry grumbled, the shovel clattering against the fence, startling me.

"Whatever" I huffed, quickly recovering as I turned around, "Get moving. We got a lot to do"

"Why do you daydream so much?" Harry asked, his eyes squinting at me.

"None of your business" I grumbled, shockingly choosing to scoop up poop over talk to Harry.

Five minutes into cleaning the pen, I grimaced with a shriek, my white ankle boot covered in a dark brown sludge that I knew all too well.

God damnit!

"You've got to be kidding me" I grumbled, dragging the sole of my against the dirt, knowing damn well I shouldn't have worn white shoes.

I wasn't supposed to be cleaning the pen today though. I was supposed to show this dreamy muscle man where everything was, preparing him to work for us before going off to help with my actual job! Now my shoes are covered in disgusting cow poop!

I heard a chuckle next to me, my head whipping up to find Harry's sparkling green eyes and annoying sexy dimple mocking me as I tried my best to get the cow poop off my shoe.

"How's it going?" he asked, a teasing undertone to his words. Or.. maybe he was mocking me in an aggravating manner? It sounded like he was teasing me, but maybe he was ready to explode on me at any given minute.

"Shove it, Harry" I groused, my eyes prickling with tears as my pushed down emotions began to bubble over.

I can't fucking cry in front of him! It'll give him just another reason to make fun of me!

I kept my head down, leaving the shovel against the fence before letting Harlow and Knox in to help move the cows to the other fenced area for grazing.

"Just open the gate, they'll get them in and then close and lock it and bring the borders back to the main house. I'll be right back, I need to clean my shoes" I spoke quickly, wanting to get the instructions out before the knot in my throat grew too big that I couldn't suppress my emotion any longer.

The second I slipped my once white shoes off, bending down to carefully pick them up by the collar of the shoe with a grimace, the slow hot tears started falling one by one down my only what I can assume pink cheeks as I rushed to the bathroom to try and save my shoes from landing in the trash.

I struggled to clean them off with my watery vision, but thankfully I managed, leaving them in the tub to air dry as I took a quick glance at myself in the mirror, praying I looked presentable enough to go finish helping Harry.

My full rose cheeks were bright pink, along with my nose and eyes. My face had damp tear stains; my hands quickly swiped them away.

There was no fixing this.

Fuck.

Slipping on my worn down cowgirl boots, I met back up with Harry; his eyes narrowed at me, like he was trying to place me from somewhere, but I ignored him, "Ready to finish the tour?" I asked, Harry taking a few seconds before nodding.

I showed him where the sheep were; showing him how the locks worked, mentioning they all had to be replaced eventually.

"The sheep get fed three times a day" I started, Harry interrupting me yet again.

One can argue his habits are more annoying than my daydreaming ones.

"I know how to care for sheep" he stated and I nodded slowly, deciding to just drop it and let us both do our jobs.

I commented that we do sheer them at least once a year, my lips pursing, feeling like everything I was telling him was going in one ear, out the other.

I couldn't tell if it's because he didn't care, and truly already knew how to do everything; maybe my dad has walked him through it already? If that was the case, surely my dad wouldn't have asked me to do this then, right? And wouldn't Harry have said something about my dad showing him already?

Was it because I was a woman, and this was a "man's" job? I scoffed at the thought, feeling my lovey dovey rose colored glasses turn cold dark and gray.

Surely that isn't it, right? He couldn't be sexist, right?

With the sheep's out in their fenced in field, I took him over to the garden, smiling at our flourishing plants.

"This is our garden!" I grinned, the feeling of pride washing over me as I watched him look around; "It's my grandma's favorite part of the farm. She's tended to this garden for decades" I told, "We love using stuff from our garden to cook with, or to feed the horses and stuff. If you ever need anything, feel free to help yourself! My grandma comes out almost daily to harvest since our bunnies sometimes like to swipe stuff" I paused, cupping my hands around my mouth as I began to whisper loudly, "Even though she literally gave them their own garden patch by their hutch" I grinned, watching Harry crack a smile, sending my stomach swirling once again.

God the things I'd do to see that on a daily basis.

I took him over to the bunny hutch, noticing a few of them out in their fenced area.

"This one is Lydia" I pointed at the one near us, "She's mine. She's a Holland Lop" I smiled over at him, bending over the fence to give her a little pet, "The gray and black one over there" I pointed to the far corner, "Are the neighbor girls. They like to visit and see them but their family doesn't have room for them. So uh, if you see 2 tween looking girls on the Ranch, It's probably Sarah and Fiona" I informed, "Want to pet her? Lydia's super friendly!"

"I'm good" He stayed stoic.

Party Pooper.

"Well I want to hang out with her for a while" I stated, not ready to leave my bunny. "I got her when she was really young which was fun" I decided to tell him, entering their pen and taking a seat in the grass, smiling when Lydia hopped over to me. "She always comes over because I typically bring her snacks" I giggled, watching her cute pink nose flutter.

Getting distracted with the bunnies, I heard Harry's familiar, "What the fuck!" making my head shoot up, seeing him scowling down at his cowboy boots again.

"What?" I asked, confused as I pushed myself up off the ground, careful not to step on Lydia.

"What is with your fucking animals biting me!" He shouted, my eyes widened yet again. I swear they were going to get stuck like that.

I noticed Charles, "our" duck next to Harry.

I snickered, Harry glaring at me.

"It's not funny! These are expensive! You still owe me for your fucking rat of a dog leaving marks!" His brow furrowed, the scowl only making my giggle turn into a laugh.

"I think they like you" I teased, "This is Charles. he's our duck"

"Your duck?"

"Well, a duck" I corrected, "I mean, we don't own him.. but he hangs around here. He has a duck wife and ducklings of his own" I told him, surprised Charles wandered over to us.

Usually my younger brothers were chasing the ducks by the pond, so maybe nipping Harry was payback.

I giggled again, thinking about the duck being spiteful, Harry's glare deepening.

"This is why you don't own animals" he huffed, marching away from the duck who was waddling after him, my grin never leaving my face as I giggled, watching a grown ass man get chased by a duck.

"Animals bring joy to your life!" I countered, "Just like kids"

"No" his head shook, "They bring chaos"

"But isn't that fun? Life's boring if it's so routine all the time"

"Routine isn't boring. It's orderly" Harry corrected, turning to face me again.

"Again, borrring" I dragged out, a big smile on my face as I teased him.

I stand by it though. Who wanted to spend all day doing chores? That's the shit you get done so you can go have fun!

When the time came to milk the cows, Harry and I reached the warehouse-like area we used for it.

"They just.. go in?" He asked, seeming impressed that the cows did it in such an orderly fashion.

"Mhm. They like it. Think of it like your morning pee. It's reliving, plus, they get fed after" I noted, slipping on my gloves. "Right here" I pointed to the wall on my left, "Is how you clean the materials. We'll get to that, but just in case you forget"

Harry scoffed, telling me off, "I won't forget, I'm a professional" which only made me roll my eyes at his cocky attitude.

Can't this man ever just accept that not everything is routine? Some things have to be new and take a learning curve?

We got to our first cow, and I sat down on the stool, this entire process feeling like muscle memory, having done it with my dad so many times in the last 26 years.

"So, if god forbid, a machine is broken, this is what you do" I looked up from the cow, seeing that Harry was surprisingly paying attention like my words actually mattered.

This is new.

I couldn't help but feel my heart smile at the idea of me mattering to him. Even if it was as silly as how to milk a cow, it still made me happy that it appeared that he cared.

"Okay, so she is eating her hay right now, so she couldn't honestly give less of a fuck" I giggled, moving my bucket. "Come here and hold this bucket" I demanded, surprising him since he quickly moved. "Grab that stool, take a seat, stay a while" I joked, handing him the sterile bucket we use to catch the milk. "So, these are her udders" I chuckled, glancing over at Harry, expecting a chuckle or maybe even sexual innuendo, but his eyes were just locked on the cow. "They are clipped, as you can see here" I showed, "We keep our cows healthy" I commented, hoping he knew we did not stand for animal abuse or neglect here.

"Clipped?" he asked, surprising me.

I nodded, "You clip them to keep them clean"

"How do you clip udders?"

"Well, there are two ways. You see here, how her udders are just skin?" I asked, Harry nodding, "That's because we've shaved the hairs to keep her udders healthy and not have bacteria etcetera. My dad prefers to manually shave them. We only have a few cows after all, but the other method is singeing with fire. If done properly, it works well, but we don't like to risk possibly burning their skin or something"

"You.. hold fire? To the cow?" Harry sounded bewildered, staring at me like I have three heads.

"It's a way to do it, yes. Anyway, we do keep up on that, and I'm sure my dad can show you when the time comes, but for now, don't worry about it. Oh! Also, make sure the area is clean" I grab the paper towel, "You kind of just... swipe? At the udder? Uh, here, let me show you" I cleaned around the udder, noticing some dirt and what looked like grass, "Don't use water" I warned, "It can prevent the teat from opening"

"Tit?"

"Teat"

"Cows have tits? Is that why people refer to nipples as tits?" Harry asked, my eyes closing as my head turned out of shameful withheld laughter.

"It's a teat, and uh, I guess. Women's nipples and cow's teats produce milk" I chuckle, pulling myself together so I can focus. "Step one, you put on gloves. Keep everything clean and sterile. They're all over the place around here. Let us know if you need a different size" Harry nodded, "So, the step two once you're gloved is to prep the teat. You take this" I grabbed our pre drip solution, "You want to cover the four teats with it for at least 30 seconds. You do one at a time"

I could feel Harry intently paying attention, even with how in the zone I got, wanting to do this properly.

"Next, you grab the udder like this" I wrapped my hand around it, "You squeeze slightly downward.. kind of half twist? You don't want to like.. ring out the udder, but kind of guide the liquid out? I uh.." My cheeks flushed, "You've um.."

Delaney, no! Stop!

"Hm?"

"You've uh.. um.."

Delaney, seriously! Don't!

"I've what?" Harry asked, my slight squirming not helping as mental imagery flashed through my head.

"You uh.. you know how you uh.. um.."

"How I..?"

Oh my god

You're fucked!

Totally completely fucked!

You did this to yourself!

You couldn't just shut up and think of a better example?!

This is definitely not how your father taught you!

"So uh, you know when you um.. masturbate?" I rushed, "You kinda.. do a similar motion" I refused to make eye contact with the man. I can't. I won't. I refuse. "Just uh.. slowly.. like.. like edging"

DELANEY NICOLE FALLEN, YOU DID NOT JUST SAY THAT

I could feel the heat radiating off my face.

I can't believe I just said that.

I did not just bring up Harry masturbating whilst I have my hand wrapped around a cow udder.

Oh my god.

The rest of the explanation only got worse as the liquid began to drip out into the bucket, unacceptable mental images of Harry doing things I should definitely not be thinking about whilst I'm milking a cow, Harry right next to me, refused to leave my head.

I've never wanted to run out of a room quicker in my life, and it was my own damn fault!

I thought it couldn't get worse, but the redness in my cheeks stayed put as Harry took place on the stool, his own hands gloved as he began to prep the next cow to try doing it himself.

I slowly walked him through it again, his hand wrapping around the udder, with a soft chuckle and head shake, softly confessing, "I wish you didn't compare this to masturbating"

You and I are both, buddy.

I'd say it's a safe assumption that I want to simply forget today ever happened.

* * * * 

I listened to Lacy by Olivia Rodrigo the entire time I wrote this lol

Written on: September 9th, 10th, 11th 2023

Published on: September 11th 2023

Word Count: 4.2k

Part Four

[shootsun]

Hey, uh @kuhbkiee i really liked your cowboy comic and wrote you something for it? i hope you don’t mind? 

Cowboy AU

The past few weeks had been quiet, and Wukong was getting restless. The last exciting thing that had rolled through the town of Dead End was the supernatural bounty hunter, Six, when he had almost kidnapped his deputy and sheriff in training, MK.

It apparently had all been some big misunderstanding, (something about drawing out a pair of bank robbers with a grudge against his protégé, all while using the kid as bait) but that hadn’t stopped him from giving the black clad bounty hunter a black eye the second MK was safe. Six absolutely hadn’t given him a matching bruise, no matter what the kid said.

The xanthous haired lawman sighs as he wipes the bar counter listlessly. There was no news of any villain or thief in the area, no new crimes to investigate in the dusty little town, nothing but small-town grievances and the occasional low-level demon trying to sneak through the town barriers.

Nothing he or MK couldn’t handle.

He would never admit it, but Wukong was growing to miss his wandering misadventures. He’d settled down in Dead End to help train MK up, to take his mantle of Lawman, to pass on his magic weapon and retire; but if this was anything like retirement, he was going to have to find a project to keep himself busy.

Absentmindedly, his hand brushes over the empty holster on his hip, and he ignores the twinge of panic that jumpstarts in his chest. ‘Iron Shot isn’t mine any more,’ he reminds himself, and hates the part of his mind that argues that the kid isn’t ready to wield a sling shot, much less a shapeshifting magic gun.

The saloon doors swing open behind him with a creak, halting the growing bout of self-arguing, and he gives a half-assed waved without turning around, calling out, “Be with you in a minute.”

The newcomer doesn’t answer, just walks to the bar with slow, self-assured steps across the wooden floor.

Wukong crouches and grabs a glass from under the bar, starting to wipe it clean when the person finally speaks.

“‘S been a while since a brawl started in these parts…” A man spoke, and his drawl was dripping with a smug tone that curled familiarly around Wukong’s ears.

“’nd as interestin’ as this counter top is, it sure ain’t a show stopper. So, how’s about a little rough housing, Lawman?”

Wukong raises his eyes to meet the smirk of an unfortunately familiar bounty hunter, and feels his glamour slip, his eyes flashing red, his fangs sharpening as he growls, “YOU.”

Six’s grin only grows, and Wukong succumbs to the urge to wipe that look off the bounty hunter’s face with gusto. He lunges across the counter top, hiking one leg up over the bar as the bounty hunter has the audacity to back petal wildly.

“Wait, no, no, w-wait, I was just kiddin’,” the demon splutters, his hands up in a placating gesture, but Wukong dives towards him, arm already cocked back for a punch as he connects with the bounty hunter.

The two tumble to the floor in a tangle of limbs as Six yelps and swears as Wukong lands his first punch.

“The audacity of you, to come back to MY town!” the lawman snarls, and the bounty hunter glares at him before elbowing him in the gut.

Wukong lurches to the side, grimacing as Six kicks out from under his hold.

“I’m a Bounty Hunter,” Six hisses, and yanks his hat free from where it was trapped under Wukong’s leg. “I end up everywhere, I didn’t choose to be here, asshole.”  

“Excuses,” Wukong bites out, and then he’s throwing himself towards the bounty hunter once more.

“Excuses?” Six parrots as he blocks Wukong’s punch. “What do you – Hey! Not the tail!”

Wukong grins triumphantly through his mouthful of black fur, and bites down harder when he feels a tug on his braid.

“Could you not?” The bounty hunter grits out, trying and failing to pull the other stubborn supernatural off his tail.    

“Get out of my town,” is what Wukong tried to say, but it sounded more like, “G’t ou’ ma to’n.”

Six looks down at him with a mix of distain and bewilderment. “I speak seven languages and that wasn’t nothing but gibberish.”    

Wukong spits out the bounty hunter’s tail and yanks the supernatural closer by the lapels of his coat. “I said,” he thunders, “Get. Out. Of My. Town.”

[arrowofcarnations]

For Day 3 of Fic-O-Ween, I put together a little glimpse into the lives of Finn, Logan and Leo—specifically, from the “cowboy” au that has lived rent-free in my head since the idea hatched on the server however long ago. There aren’t too many details here, though, so you don’t have to know anything about that au to read this. Just Cubs being Cubs (three dorks in love)!

SW universe & characters by the inimitable @lumosinlove <3

Day 3: “Corn Maze” @noots-fic-fests Pairing: O’Knutzy Rating: General

~

It was a perfect night by anyone’s standard. The first whisper of fall was in the air, cooler breezes breaking through the months-long blanket of Texas humidity and rustling the trees overhead as the town gathered outdoors for its fall festival. The sky was dark and clear, studded with stars and punctuated with a bright, full harvest moon.

But all Leo could focus on was the curve of Finn’s smile as they wandered farther and farther into the corn maze and the way Logan’s hand felt in his, strong and steady and so, so warm. He gave that hand a little squeeze, and Logan squeezed back, turning his head to look at him. “You good?”

Logan and Finn liked to opine about how much they loved the twang of south Louisiana in Leo’s voice, but god, Leo felt addicted to Logan’s drawl. He nodded at him, smiling. “So good. I never really got to do this, you know? With a boyfriend. Boyfriends.”

It was pretty dark out, but Leo didn’t miss the color rising on Logan’s face or the pleased smile on his lips. He gave Logan’s hand another squeeze, feeling his heart pick up speed.

“Boyfriends,” Logan repeated, voice soft.

“Yeah,” Leo said—despite the flutter of nerves, he felt sure of it the second it had left his mouth. He just hoped Logan—and Finn—wanted that, too. “Is that okay?”

The hand in his gave a tug then, urging Leo to stop walking. Logan turned to him fully and brought both hands up to his face, smushing gently until Leo’s lips were pressed into a pout and they were both laughing.

“Yes, that’s okay,” Logan said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Leo’s heart leapt; Logan tipped his head up to meet Leo in a tender kiss that made his toes curl in his boots. He pulled back to kiss the tip of Leo’s nose, then nuzzled his jaw, his hands sliding down to hold Leo’s shoulders.

“Hey,” Finn said, turning around to find them wrapped up in each other like that. “Are we making out? Because I want to make out with you guys, but like, maybe after we get out of this maze—still not convinced we aren’t going to get murdered in here.”

“City boy,” Logan chided. Then he nudged Leo. “Tell him, Peanut.”

Finn looked from Logan to Leo, expression curious. “Tell me what?”

“I was going to,” Leo laughed, patting Logan’s cheek before walking over to Finn, taking both his hands in his own. Finn’s face softened the way it always seemed to when his hands were held; Leo felt a rush of affection that threatened to whisk him up and away into the air like the first few falling leaves of the season. “Finn.”

“Nutter Butter.”

Leo bit his lip for a second, moving even closer to him. “I want us to be boyfriends—like, officially. You, me, and Tremz. What do you think?”

His heart was beating fast again as he watched Finn’s face change; his brows pitched and a slow, almost disbelieving smile lit up his face, and Leo could have looked into those soft brown eyes all night. But then he was closing his own because Finn was kissing him, pulling him in with a hand on the small of his back and Leo was breathless with it—breathless and speechless and so unbelievably happy.

When they finally broke apart, Logan was there, close enough to touch if Leo wanted to. He did. “Fuck yes,” Finn said. “I think—I know—I want that with you two. God, I’ve wanted you since...practically the day I moved to town, Le.”

Logan drew them into sort of a group hug, the arrangement of limbs a little awkward and making them all laugh, but somehow exactly what Leo needed to feel in that moment. From the way Finn held on tightly, Leo guessed he needed it, too.

Finn’s eyes were shining when they eased apart; Leo swiped a thumb under one gently. “Don’t, you’ll get me started,” he chided with a wobbly grin on his face. His heart felt too big for his chest.

“If you two start crying, I will, too,” Logan added, a hand wrapped securely around each of their waists. “And everyone will think we’re scared of this corn maze.”

“I mean, I’m not not scared of it,” Finn laughed, leaning over to pull Logan into a brief, hard kiss before taking their hands in each of his and starting off down the path to their right. Leo knew it was the wrong way, but he didn’t mind stretching this moment out just a little bit longer.

[paperstorm]

WIP WEDNESDAY

Thanks for the tag @welcometololaland and @rmd-writes

This is a little something from the hockey au I'm working on, it's spoilery for a plot-point so I'll put it under a cut. Does anyone care about spoilers for a story that doesn't even exist yet lol? I don't know, but just in case.

I tag @firstprince-history-huh and @tailoredshirt and @musette22 if she wants to

The front door opens before Carlos is halfway up the walk. His mother appears on the other side of it, and just the sight of her has tears prickling behind Carlos’s eyes. He hesitates, nerves and fear momentarily paralyzing him. He thinks he knows how she’s going to react, to the unexpected news that her son was caught in public kissing a teammate, but then again, if he was so confident in that, maybe he would have told them sooner. Maybe he just hopes he knows how she’ll react, but has spent a decade terrified to find out if he's wrong.

She comes to him, instead. She leaves the door hanging open and heads down the steps and hurries to meet him on the path, a long beaded necklace bouncing against her chest as she does.

“Carlitos,” she says softly, reaching out for him.

Carlos instantly drops his bag and lets her fold him into a hug. It’s not even something his brain had to tell his body to do. His mother reaches for him, and Carlos goes without needing to think about it for a millisecond.

“Mi amor,” she whispers, kissing his cheek and holding him right there on the front lawn. A car drives by on the gravel road behind them, and Carlos dully considers yet another photograph of him embracing someone showing up online, and it doesn’t bother him enough to consider pulling away from her hug.

“Hi, Mama,” he whispers back.

“I’m so sorry, my angel. This is not how any of this should have happened.”

“You’re not mad?” Carlos sniffs.

“Mad at you?” Andrea leans back, turning her dark eyes up to him in concern. “For loving a boy? Never.”

Carlos swallows thicky and blinks tears out of his eyes.

“Come inside,” she says, taking his elbow and reaching down for his duffel bag. She leads him the rest of the way up the cracked sidewalk.

Carlos’s father is standing in the doorway, in his usual uniform of cowboy hat and plaid shirt tucked into blue jeans. He smiles and pats Carlos on the shoulder. When the door is shut behind them, when they’re safe inside their home, Gabriel hugs him too. Carlos isn’t expecting it, and it steals all the air from his lungs. He chokes back a sob and wraps his arms tightly around his father, feeling Andrea behind him, rubbing his back.

“If that photographer turns up dead, don’t tell the cops it was me,” Gabriel says, and Carlos laughs wetly.

“Deal.”

“Come, sit,” Andrea urges.

Carlos reluctantly removes himself from their embrace. His father is smiling sadly at him, and Carlos can’t handle the way that feels so he turns and follows his mother into the kitchen. She pours him a cup of coffee, and Carlos wraps both hands around it, feeling the warmth against his palms. His parents sit across the table from him, the only wooden chairs creaking as they’re settled into. Everything about this place fills Carlos’s senses and take him back in time. The smell of the air freshener next to the kitchen sink. The sound of cattle braying in the distance. The turquoise spoon-rest on the stove top that is always a little bit sticky, because his mother rarely stops cooking. He’s a child, sitting here with them at the table where he ate three meals a day for so much of his life, and they’re his parents and more than anything in the entire world, he wants them to accept him.

Andrea reaches across it for his hand, holding it tightly. Her face is too kind, too emotional, and Carlos can barely look at her.

“Tell us what happened?” she asks gently.

Carlos shrugs. “You know what happened. We shouldn’t have … in public. It was stupid, I should’ve known someone would recognize us and get a picture.”

His mother’s thumb rubs along the back of his hand.

Carlos takes a deep breath. He looks up, first at his dad and then and his mom, the kindest woman in the entire world, who’s made every bad moment better again since the day Carlos was born. It seems so ridiculous to be nervous about say the words aloud, because they already know, everyone already knows, but it’s still an enormous moment, even though most of it was taken away from him.

“I’m gay,” he says.

Andrea smiles and nods. “Okay.”

“I’m sorry,” he adds, and she shakes his head as the smile slips off her face and is replaced by a look of fierce determination.

“Never, ever be sorry about being yourself. We love you, just as you are.”

“Yes, we do,” Gabriel agrees.

Carlos licks his lips and his eyes close, relief flooding him.

[helpimhyperfixating]

Photos and Crushes - Cowboy AU Jotaro x Reader P2

Part 1  |  Part 2  |  Part 3

Word Count: 11488

“I’m not coming here again, that is clear.” Jotaro grumbled as he dusted his jacket off. You were standing beside him, giggling a little as you watched his disgruntled look.

The sun was setting and all the children had just left, finally giving Jotaro some respite.

“Ahw.” You pouted playfully, helping him dust off his back a bit. Jotaro sighed and rolled his eyes at your fake sadness, just grabbing your wrist and starting to drag you away from the church with him as you waved back at the nun, darkness slowly starting to set in.

Jotaro soon released your wrist and the two of you were now walking side by side.

“Thank you for today.”

“Hm?” Jotaro hummed, pretending to not know what you were talking about.

“For everything you did. Putting up with the children, helping cheer them up. And especially... with those riders, of course.” You bashfully glanced at him through your eyelashes, only looking at him from the corner of your eyes.

“It’s fine.” Jotaro grunted and you almost couldn’t understand him with how heavy the grumble in his voice was.

“No, really. You saved me again.” You stopped him with a hand on his arm and Jotaro turned around to look at you with a questioning look. “How can I make it up to you? I feel like merely a drink isn’t good enough this time.” You chuckled sweetly at your own callback and Jotaro felt his throat close up a bit, wanting to clear it but not wanting to come across as awkward.

“Come riding with me tomorrow.”

It was a simple sentence but neither of you knew how flustered the other was with those mere words hanging in the air.

“Alright. I’d love to.” You spoke after a bit, finally having found your courage to answer while holding a mini panic attack and celebration inside your head and chest.

Jotaro on the other hand was having a small existential crisis.

Both of you were lost in your own heads as you continued walking and quickly, the fork in the road where you split up came. You cleared your throat and turned to him. “I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow then?” You questioned and Jotaro nodded.

“I’ll come by at nine.” He spoke, oozing his usual calm and stoic confidant look. You nodded a little shyly and quickly stood on your tiptoes, pressing a kiss to his cheek before taking off in the direction of your home, not looking back even once.

Jotaro swallowed heavily as he watched you run away, still feeling the phantom feeling of your lips on his cheek. And then he nearly clocked a dude right in the face when they swung an arm around his shoulder, surprising him.

Joseph screamed like a little girl as he ducked out of the way of the fist.

“Gramps!” Jotaro called out, exasperated.

“Honestly, Joseph, you need to learn how to read someone’s body language.” Caesar sighed. Seemingly appearing out of nowhere as he now stood to Jotaro’s right, Joseph righting himself and putting his arm back around his grandson from the left.

“You two are back in town?” Jotaro questioned, mostly aimed at Caesar as he pulled his grandfather’s arm off of himself and actively ignored him.

“We never left.”

“Yes we’re back.”

Caesar was quick to shut down Joseph’s attempt at a prank and the man pouted.

“How have you put up with him for all these years?” Jotaro questioned, pointing his thumb back to his grandfather.

“It honestly is a mystery to me as well.” Caesar spoke as Joseph let out an offended noise.

“Well screw you too! Here I was, just trying to be happy for my grandson for finding the love of his life, and I get this thrown at me!”

Jotaro actively tried to ignore that statement as he left the two behind and started walking the last leg to his house.

“Joseph, let me talk to your grandson for a bit.” Caesar patted Joseph’s shoulder and - while the man was pouting - he nodded and motioned Caesar to go.

Jotaro immediately noticed the Italian man walking up beside him and pulled his hat down over his eyes a bit. “You haven’t told her yet, have you?” The silence was answer enough and Caesar hummed a bit. “You know what I said before. And, if what we just saw was any indication, she returns your feelings.”

Jotaro once again didn’t say a thing and instead sped up a bit. But Caesar knew he was thinking about his words.

“Oi, Caesar! It’s my turn to talk to my grandson now!” Joseph called out from behind but Caesar was quick to shush him, pushing the older Joestar into another street to take a different route to the Kujo household and give the young man some peace of mind to think.

Tomorrow was a big day after all.

- - - -

A knocking on your door made you jump up from where you had anxiously been sitting. Nearly tripping on your way to the door, you managed to catch yourself in time and just opened the door.

There stood Jotaro, looking the same as ever and you sent him a quick smile.

“Good morning.”

“Morning.” Jotaro greeted back and he could see you excitedly bouncing, making him chuckle softly as he took a step to the side, giving you a good view of the pitch black horse that was hitched right outside your door.

“Jojo!” You exclaimed happily, running over to the gigantic animal. It was one of the biggest and strongest horses you had seen, an almost blue sheen to its black coat when the sun hit it right.

Upon hearing his name, the horse’s ears turned towards you and you walked up to stand beside it, gently petting its neck.

“Sometimes I think you like him more than me.” Jotaro joked as he walked up behind you after having closed your door that you stupidly left open in your excitement.

“I mean, he is a strong competition but no, I think you still win.” You tilted your head back to look at him and grinned, making Jotaro flick your forehead.

“Let’s go.” He spoke and placed his hands on your waist. The action surprised you and you quickly turned your head away from Jotaro so he couldn’t see your blush at the sudden close contact.

He lifted you without trouble, holding you high enough so that you could swing a leg over the large horse and sit down on the saddle.

“Scoot forward.” Jotaro instructed and you did as he asked while he untied the reins, throwing them back over the neck of the horse before taking hold of the saddle horn and back of the saddle while putting his foot in the stirrup, pulling himself up and swinging his leg over the horse’s back with grace.

Jotaro eased into the saddle, his hand that he used to grab the saddle horn now holding onto the reins, running under your arm and slightly pressed into your side.

Jotaro’s other arm suddenly snuck around your waist, pulling you back just a tiny bit so that your back was pressed into Jotaro’s chest. “Is this more comfortable?” He leaned forward a bit, softly saying that in your ear and making a shudder rack through your body, feeling his breath hit the shell of your ear. God, it was too early to get like this already.

“Y-Yeah.” You let out, clearing your throat as inconspicuously as possible afterwards.

Jotaro just hummed a bit, silently appreciating the cute little stutter in your voice while he let go of your waist, instead moving his hand so that he could hold the reins with both hands now.

Letting out two short clicking noises as he pulled the reins to the left side, Jotaro made Jojo turn, followed up by a small kick into the horse’s belly, urging the beast to start walking.

He almost immediately started up, a steady and confident stride in his steps yet perfectly in tune to the rider on his back.

You knew that Jotaro and Jojo had a good connection, the man having taken care of the animal ever since it was a foal. It still surprised you every day you saw the horse however, of how well trained he was. With its size, it could most likely trample everything in its path, yet he was the definition of a gentle giant.

It was your personal belief that the reason for that was because Jotaro had always doted on the animal. He had never admitted to it but you knew that despite the hardass, asshole attitude he had, he loved this horse.

“Relax a bit, you’re completely stiff.” Jotaro suddenly spoke up from behind you and you realised you had been lost in thought.

“Oh, sorry.” You quietly spoke, shuffling your butt a tiny bit to get a little more comfortable in the saddle. You might be a bit cramped and pushed to the front, but it was a lot better than sitting behind the saddle on the rump of the horse. Not only was there not a comfortable saddle back there, Jotaro’s massive frame also made it so that you could never properly look around. The two of you had tried that once the very first time, but after that it was always ‘you in front, Jotaro behind you’. Not that you rode with Jotaro too often. In fact, in the two years you knew him, it had only happened a handful of times. And yet, here you now sat.

“I thought I said relax.” Jotaro suddenly grumbled from behind, wrapping his arm back around your waist and pulling you back so that you were fully leaning against his chest. Instantly, you could feel yourself start to blush heavily as you began to properly sway with the movements of the horse, your back pressed against Jotaro.

“Sorry, uh, I was a bit lost in thought.” You tried to excuse yourself, the awkward smile on your face that he couldn’t see turning into surprise when Jotaro put his chin on the top of your head. In response to you he said nothing, only humming a bit, which you felt vibrate a little on your head.

You could feel Jotaro turn his head left and right as he looked both ways before crossing the street, lifting his head from yours once you reached the other side and spurring the horse into a light trot.

Jojo’s hooves pounded satisfyingly on the dirt road, the horse’s trot a comfortable ride despite his large size.

At the end of the street, Jotaro went right and you both passed the small church.

The sister just so happened to be outside, cleaning the steps and now looking up to see the two young people ride by. You noticed her as well, sending a smile and a wave while Jotaro subtly nodded, almost impossible to see for the nun who stood so far away. Yet still she smiled warmly and waved back, her look turning a bit more knowing as the horse passed by. She could almost smell what was blooming between those two from where she stood.

After a few minutes of a relaxed trot, you two were almost out of town when,

“JOTARO!”

The loud yet faraway shout made you lift your head up and look around while Jotaro gritted his teeth and pointedly refused to look anywhere but right in front of himself.

“Hey! Jotaro!”

At that, the man sitting behind you spurred his horse into a canter, holding you up against himself as he stood up in the stirrups slightly so that the animal beneath you could properly move.

Jotaro just noped the fuck out the moment he heard his grandfather’s voice. Whatever he wanted, it could wait. He had let his mother know he would most likely be gone most of the day if not all day with his horse and he was sure his mother would have told the old man as well. Right now, he was fairly certain that Joseph had seen you sitting in front and if he was allowed to talk to you, he’d definitely do everything he could to embarrass Jotaro. And no way was he letting that happen.

Running away when you were on horse and the pursuer on foot made it almost too easy and Jotaro looked back briefly, seeing the old man stand in the middle of the road, looking defeated as he became smaller and smaller while the pair on horseback left the town.

As soon as he thought you were far enough away, Jotaro slowed Jojo back into a trot and then back into a step, settling back into the saddle with you and unwrapping his left arm from your waist.

Or at least, that was the plan until his hand got snagged in your belt loop. Confused at first, he tugged just a little firmer, accidentally tugging at you while he felt something digging into the side of his hand, piercing through his skin.

“Oh!” You exclaimed in a bit of surprise when Jotaro nearly tugged you forward into the saddle.

Jotaro swallowed before he looked down over your shoulder as to what had happened, having no choice but to rest his wrist against your hipbone.

Somehow, he had trapped two of his fingers in your belt, and now the prong of your belt buckle had just straight up embedded itself into the side of the palm of his hand.

“Shit, sorry.” Jotaro quickly apologised as he tried to twist his hand out, but the prong punctured into his hand refrained him from moving without it digging painfully into his hand.

“No, it’s okay, just- here-“ Your delicate fingers wrapped around his, stopping him from squirming as you then pressed his hand flat into your stomach, using the clearer view to see how you could untangle him. “Who was that anyway?”

“My grandfather.” Jotaro answered as he felt himself blush, feeling the soft expanse of your stomach beneath his hand - even if it still was covered up with your shirt - was enough to make the boy flustered.

When you untangled his fingers, the prong still inside his hand, Jotaro couldn’t keep himself from softly squeezing your stomach. Just a small twitch of his fingers, digging the pads down just a little bit. It felt wrong to do morally but... god, he wanted to be able to keep doing that. Maybe Caesar was right. He had been doubting whether or not he should use today to confess but-

Unknowingly, in his thoughts, Jotaro squeezed again. While you hadn’t noticed the first time, you did now.

The man stopped breathing for a second, afraid he had overstepped and that you’d be mad, but you merely quietly apologised for hurting him, slowly and carefully sliding his hand off the prong, some blood dripping from the small puncture wound in his hand.

Jotaro moved his hand to the side so he wouldn’t bleed on either your clothes or his saddle, simultaneously looking away to the right to hide his raging blush as he gently pulled on the reins to make Jojo stop walking.

He got himself stuck and then impulsively touched you when you pressed his hand into your stomach, yet you were too oblivious to notice. Granted, you were the one to place his hand there, but still. Your mind was just so focused on helping him that you didn’t even notice the world around you. You were so sweet and selfless.

Of course Jotaro couldn’t have helped but fall head over heels for you.

Procuring a handkerchief from somewhere within your pocket, you grasped Jotaro’s hand again and gently wrapped it up.

The man shifted a little in the saddle behind you as you tied the knot and he cleared his throat. “Thanks.”

“No problem, uhm- oh! We stopped.” You only just now noticed and Jotaro turned his head back forward so he could look down on you. God, you really were oblivious, making his heart tighten fondly in his chest. “Anyways, why’d you run away from your grandpa?”

“Because I know him and if I stopped, we would have never left town.” Jotaro explained, and, in a way, he was not lying. For, if his grandfather had teased him and you, Jotaro might have just gotten cold feet and turned around with a ruined mood.

With a small sigh to shake that thought off, Jotaro spurred Jojo back into walking, the horse’s firm steps easily and quickly bringing them up and down the uneven terrain of the planes.

“So, where are we going?” You spoke up after a bit.

“The forest right outside the planes.”

You gasped at that and twisted your body around to look at Jotaro with a massive smile. “Really?!” He merely hummed in affirmation and an excited laugh burst from your throat, with you slinging your arms around Jotaro in a giddy hug.

“Hey, don’t be reckless, I have to ride.” Jotaro chastised you, but really it was just because he could feel his cheeks flame up, his heart beating sporadically at feeling your chest pressed against his and your arms around him.

At that you pulled back (Jotaro managing just in time to steel his expression), a sly look on your face. “Jojo is a competent enough horse, he can steer himself.”

“Tch.”

“That is a subtle way of me saying you raised him well, mister.” Your voice turned a little softer, an almost proud undertone shining through that made a small blush appear on the brooding man’s cheeks at your compliment.

“S-Shut up.”

“Make me.”

Ohhh, that was the wrong thing to say for Jotaro. His breathing became a bit laboured as he immediately thought of all the ways he could in fact shut you up while you turned to sit straight again. His hands holding the reigns squeezed hard and to make sure you wouldn’t notice, he released his left hand and instead placed it on his thigh, bunching the fabric there and squeezing tightly while his right hand that was still in your view was completely lax, just nonchalantly holding the reigns.

“If I want to compliment you I will, there’s nothing you can do about it.” You finished your statement after a second or two and Jotaro released his thigh. Of course, this was you he was talking about. Little old oblivious and innocent you who had no idea what effects simple words from you had on him.

“Compliment those who want it.” Was his gruff response but inside he wanted to kick himself. He did want your compliments, he was just shit at accepting them.

“I sure will.” You smiled slyly and suddenly leaned forward, leaving the warmth of Jotaro’s chest as you hovered your upper body over the neck of the horse you were sat on. “Jojo, you’re such a good boy! So strong and pretty! Yes you are! Yes!” You cooed at the animal, now affectionately patting and slapping the horse’s neck, getting a snort and happy turning of the ears in return.

“Don’t praise him so much, he’ll get spoiled.” Jotaro’s voice piped up from behind you, sounding a little disgruntled.

“You said to compliment those who want it. And besides, what can I say, I got a lot of love to give.” You shrugged with a small smile as you sat back up, twisting backwards in the saddle just a little so you could look at Jotaro.

“Well, put it elsewhere.”

“Like with you?” You teased and Jotaro turned his head to the side, tilting it down a little so his hat would obstruct your view of his face, though you saw the slight pout he sported.

“If it keeps you from turning my horse into a brat.” He responded, making you laugh lightly.

Now he had to accept your compliments, whether he wanted to or not.

- - - -

It took about an hour and a half of riding to cross the planes, switching between a step and a trot every now and then to speed the process up just a little bit.

The view was beautiful of course, some wild animals roaming around through nature. At one point a herd of wild horses had ran past, much to your awe and delight.

But still you were more than excited to get to the forest. You hadn’t been there in so long due to how far away it was, even on horseback, and now couldn’t wait.

Right now, Jojo was slowly climbing a small hill, huffing and snorting a bit as Jotaro needed to keep the reigns taut. It was steep and one of the few things the horse was still fussy about doing, especially now that he had two people on his back. Jotaro had to keep a firm and steady hand to keep him in check, making his arms tightly sit against your sides to do so, even squeezing a bit in order to keep the reigns steady.

You knew that was the reason for it of course, but still, you couldn’t help but blush at feeling his arms so tightly against you, caging you in and keeping you steady while his chin leaned on your shoulder, his hot breath fanning past your cheek as he looked down over you at what he was doing.

Finally, you reached the top of the hill. Jotaro let up on the tight squeeze of his arms at your sides and only now you suddenly noticed how his thighs had been squeezing as well, his knees pressed against your legs. “Sorry.” He mumbled and you cleared your throat.

“No it’s okay, you needed to.”

Jotaro hummed a bit at that and suddenly leaned forward, pressing his chest into your back and pushing you down as he gave the side of Jojo’s neck a few approving slaps for climbing the hill.

He had attempted to lean a bit around you but that proved futile as he pushed you down with him all the same.

Sitting back up together, you opened and closed your mouth like a fish, not knowing what to say, but all of those thoughts were thrown out the window when you saw the forest, the landscape having been hidden behind the hill before.

Your sudden gasp slightly scared Jotaro, afraid it was because of him pushing you down and that he fucked up, but when he saw you turn around to look at him with that giant smile and sparkle in your eye, he knew it was fine.

“Do you want to take us there?” He asked all of a sudden and you furrowed your brow in confusion.

When you didn’t get the hint because you were looking back at him, Jotaro playfully rolled his eyes and grabbed your right hand, making you snap your head forward to see his large hand enveloping yours, leading it over to the reigns he was still loosely holding in his left before wrapping your hand around the leather.

“R-Really?” You asked back at him, genuinely taken aback. You didn’t expect Jotaro to so easily give you the reigns to the horse he cared so much about. He was completely calm and relaxed, a small hint of a smile playing on his lips as he urged you to take it with your other hand as well, as if it was no big deal. He just handed you the control and trusted you with barely a word. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Just use both hands, he’s a strong horse.” Jotaro answered from behind, his voice a little more soft than you were used to and you felt yourself start to blush again.

Bringing your other hand up, you gripped the reigns with both hands, making Jotaro let go with his left as well, completely leaving you in control.

Jotaro gently nudged his heels and Jojo started stepping again.

Almost immediately after getting moving, a pair of hands landed on your waist and you looked down to see Jotaro was holding onto you like that, his hands on your waist so he wouldn’t fall.

In all honesty, you highly doubted he would fall at all, ever. But you couldn’t fault him for just wanting to hang on, so you didn’t say anything, instead just silently musing about how nice and warm and big his hands were.

Jotaro, at the same time, was musing about how small and soft you felt while he was holding you, trying to calm down his beating heart from making the bold move to hold you like this.

A curve in the road was coming up and you pulled the reigns to the right softly, only for Jojo to keep going forward, seemingly not heeding your signal at all.

You tried again, a little firmer this time, but still nothing. “He- He’s not turning.” You spoke with a small voice, feeling embarrassment wash over you. All you had been given were reigns and you couldn’t even make a simple turn to the right correctly?

Jotaro, hearing you and sensing your distress, gave your waist a small squeeze. “It’s alright.” He spoke but you felt disappointed in yourself. “Jojo’s not an easy horse.”

“Somehow I don’t believe that.” Your lips were curved down a bit and when you pulled on the reigns to try and get him to stop, Jojo wouldn’t even do that. A small noise left you and Jotaro was quick to grab hold of the reigns as well, pulling firmly with one hand and getting the horse to stop.

You let go of the reigns and buried your face in your hands while Jotaro let go as well, bringing his hand back to his side and leaning it on his leg as he looked at the back of your neck, his other hand still on your waist. “I’m sorry.” Your apology was a bit muffled but a soft look chased away the usual frown that Jotaro wore at your words.

“There’s no need to be. Jojo is stubborn and it takes practice to ride him.”

“I have not ever seen him be stubborn. He is literally the sweetest horse I know.” You said, lifting your head from your hands and looking back at Jotaro. For the first time you noticed the uncharacteristically soft look on his face and you suddenly felt a lot better already.

“That’s because you’ve only ever seen him with me.” At that you raised an eyebrow, a faint smile returning to your lips, much to Jotaro’s delight.

“Oh so he is only so sweet when you’re around, huh?” You remarked, getting a soft snort from Jotaro. “See, I told you you trained him well.” You then said softly and a warm feeling spread through the man’s chest.

“Want to try again? I’ll help.”

Nodding, you turned back around in the saddle and grabbed hold of the reins a little hesitantly.

“With Jojo it is important to keep your elbows pressed into your sides at all times.” He gently cupped your elbows and pushed them into your sides. Jojo, who had hung his head low to graze a bit at a small patch of grass, was forced to raise his head now that the reins went a little taut.

With your elbows in place, Jotaro shuffled a little bit more back before sliding you back up against him, his chest pressing against you and allowing you to feel the muscle even through the clothing in between.

Bringing his arms around yours, Jotaro grasped hold of your hands, enveloping them with his own and holding onto the reins that way. His head was leaned forward and his cheek almost pressed against yours as he looked over your shoulder.

“Be confident but don’t suddenly tug.” He explained as he showed exactly what he meant, pulling his - and by extension your - hand outward to the right, gentle but firm.

Almost immediately, Jojo started turning on his axis, Jotaro giving a small nudge in the stallion’s belly to get him to start moving again when he was pointed in the right direction.

“He knows you’re the one doing it, he just has a soft spot for you.” You remarked, but Jotaro happily noted the sweet lilt in your voice, showing you were no longer that hung up about the whole thing.

Still, he couldn’t help but want to cheer you up even more. “If we are being honest, I think he has a soft spot for you too. Not many can approach him like you do. Not even my grandfather can.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.” Jotaro hummed affirmatively. “He gets huffy when they do. But not with you.” He leaned sideways to the right a little bit as he said that last sentence, allowing him to turn his head left to properly look at you and bring his point home.

Your eyes were a bit wide as you looked at him before a smile split your face. Jotaro had the sudden urge to press a kiss to your temple but refrained himself, sitting straight in the saddle again and focusing back on the reins and how his hands sat over yours.

Suddenly kicking into the belly of the beast, Jotaro spurred his horse into a trot when you reached the bottom of the large hill, much to your surprise. “Try turning.” Jotaro spoke over the sound of the hooves.

His hands were still over yours, giving you some confidence but still, you tried pulling the reins left, Jotaro guiding you a bit as he helped pull firmer, showing you exactly how hard you needed to work the reins to get Jojo to turn.

In a steady trot, you started to zig-zag on the road. After the fifth turn, Jotaro was no longer helping with pulling the reins and he let go, returning his hands to holding onto your waist.

Jojo was powerfully trotting to the left and you now tried to steer him back to the middle of the path, without even the semblance of Jotaro helping doing it. And, without a fuss or huff, Jojo turned - just as smoothly as he did when Jotaro was the one in control.

A wave of pride flushed through your chest and Jotaro watched as you guided Jojo the rest of the way to the forest.

Once you were about fifteen meters away, you pulled the reins and Jojo slowed down to a step.

“Well done.” Jotaro praised you before looking around a bit. “Stop here.” He said after a few meters and you pulled the reins, bringing the horse to a stop.

Reaching his hand around you again, Jotaro grabbed hold of the saddle horn before swinging his left leg over the animal and dismounting, holding his arms up for you moments after.

You put the reins behind the horn before scooting back in the saddle and swinging your left leg over Jojo as well, only, different from Jotaro, you swung it over his neck so that you were sitting sideways in the saddle. This allowed Jotaro to grab you by the waist and lift you off, gently placing you on the ground.

Once he was sure you were steady, he stepped up to the side of Jojo and patted his neck a few times before swinging the reins over the animal’s head so that he could lead him.

Taking hold of the leather reins in his left hand, Jotaro expectantly turned back to face you and you smiled, realising what he meant.

You skipped up to beside him and stood next to him, ready to enter the forest for the first time in like three years.

Jojo had a different plan however as he suddenly stepped sideways, walking from Jotaro’s left side, over to the right, where you stood - forcing Jotaro to switch the reins behind his back from his left hand to his right - and nudging your shoulder with his head.

“Oh!” You called out in surprise as you were thrown forward a bit by the powerful nudge before turning around. Placing your hand on the nose of the animal, you gently scratched his forehead and neck, Jotaro smirking at you from the side.

“I told you he likes you.”

- - - -

Jotaro watched as you ran around the forest in awe.

Months ago, he had heard you talk about the last time you went to the forest. The sparkle and longing in your eyes as you did showed him how much you loved the collection of trees and he vowed back then to take you to one one day.

And he had to admit you were right, it was really pretty. Though, his eyes were mainly focused on you, not the forest.

With his left hand still holding onto Jojo’s lead, Jotaro followed with his horse as you frolicked through the trees, looking at every bush and plant as if it was your first time seeing green.

“Y/N, don’t stray too far!” He called out when he had to lead his horse around a closer cluster of trees that the large animal he was leading couldn’t fit through.

Walking around, Jotaro looked to where you had been, only to see you nowhere in sight. “Y/N?”

Walking forward, he looked around with furrowed brows, slight worry eating away at him in the pit of his stomach. Where did you go? He called your name once more, once again with no answer.

Suddenly, a pinecone hit him right on the nose, making him curse loudly.

“Oh no! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to, I-!” Jotaro slowly raised his head up, following the sound of your voice to see you sitting in between the branches of a tree, your hand guiltily slapped in front of your mouth. Quietly muttering, “I didn’t meant to.”

“Ouch.” He pointedly spoke, holding direct eye contact with you and you quickly climbed out of the tree, jumping down the last bit by hanging off a branch and dropping a way too large drop for Jotaro’s liking before rushing over.

“I didn’t mean to hit you in the face, I just wanted to get you by surprise.” You apologised as you took his face into your hands, checking him over and gently running your thumb over the bridge of his nose where a very tiny chafe now marred the side.

“You’re shit at throwing things, you should know that by now.” Jotaro said and raised his eyebrow.

“Yeah...” You admitted with your head hung low before looking up at him through your lashes, looking a little bit like a kicked puppy. “Are you okay?”

“Y/N, I’ve been hit with a lot worse than a pinecone, especially with your weak throw.” He grabbed both your wrists, though he did not pull your hands away from his face, just simply holding you; Jojo’s leash now just hanging on his arm.

“Oi, now you’re just being mean.” You pouted and the corner of Jotaro’s mouth quirked up.

“I think I am allowed to. You assaulted me.”

“I said I was sorry!”

“But are you?”

“Yes!” You nearly shrieked out, Jotaro cocking his head a little to the side as he looked at you.

All of a sudden, you realised how close to each other you were standing, your nose mere centimeters from touching his.

Jotaro saw you visibly start as you pulled back a bit, an awkward smile on your face as you cleared your throat.

You took a step back, letting go of his face and bringing your arms down, though Jotaro was still holding your wrists.

“Well, at least you’re okay.” You smiled a bit while Jotaro looked at you, closing his eyes a second later as he released your wrists.

“You are a real problem sometimes, you know that?”

“Yeah, I think I do.” You giggled softly and Jotaro huffed in amusement.

“I’ll just have to keep an eye on you.”

With that, he grabbed hold of your left hand, pulling you to his side before starting to walk forward, having re-gripped the reins in his left so he could lead Jojo along.

Your eyes were slightly wide, a light blush on your face as you were dragged along with him.

Walking in step with the man next to you, your eyes were stuck between looking around and constantly honing back in on him. You couldn’t help it.

His hand was so confidently holding yours, a firm grip while he led you along through the forest.

Opting to just take it as it is, you went to look around again, a small blush on your cheeks while your eyes trailed up to the canopy of the trees, seeing two birds sitting side by side.

Suddenly, you tripped over a branch that got stuck between your feet, saved only by Jotaro’s hold on you as he quickly reacted and pulled your arm up, keeping you from face planting on the forest floor.

“T-Thanks.” You breathed out as you used his hand and arm to clumsily get yourself back on your feet.

Jotaro merely grunted in response but suddenly interlaced his fingers with yours, giving your hand a small squeeze. “Try not to trip again.”

You looked up at him in surprise but he was looking forward, his ears a slight red hue while most of his face was shadowed by his hat.

Opting to just stay silent, you looked around at the forest, simultaneously relishing inside your head as to how nicely Jotaro’s hand fit around yours, his fingers tightening and re-gripping your hand once.

Coming from all around, the sounds of the forest calmed your beating heart. Jojo’s hooves softly stomping on the forest floor - paired with your and Jotaro’s footsteps - birds chirping and singing to each other, the wind rushing through the canopies, rustling the leaves of the trees.

You thought that maybe you’d be disappointed when you came back here after years. That the memories you made as a younger you would have overblown and made things way more fantasised and pretty than it actually was; that couldn’t be further from the truth.

Silently, Jotaro watched you as you looked around. Your face was stuck in a constant state of awe, a happy glint in your eye that would not leave as you took in the forest around you, amazed and perplexed.

His heart was absolutely hammering in his chest as he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. He didn’t know if it was a conscious action on your part, but whenever you would see something that caught your attention, your fingers would twitch in excitement, giving his hand the gentlest of squeezes that made him way more flustered than he’d like to admit.

God, Jotaro had it down bad for you, and he didn’t know if he could keep his feelings in for much longer.

He had a hunch that you liked him back, but he wasn’t sure. And on the off chance that you didn’t like him back, was it worth the risk losing your friendship as it was now?

As he let his eyes drift to the side and away from you, he suddenly spotted something.

“Y/N.” He uttered your name as a mere whisper, making you turn your head with a questioning look as he brought his left hand to his lips, making a shushing motion.

Turning to his left, he quickly wrapped Jojo’s reins around a thick tree branch sticking out, leaving his horse tied down as he then quietly walked forward, taking you with him by the hand he was still holding you with. You got the hint to remain quiet and followed him as stealthily as possible.

Sneaking around trees, Jotaro made you crouch down low as he continued to lead you with him. Right up until you both sat down behind a fallen over log.

Once more motioning you to keep quiet, Jotaro lifted his hand and pointed a little bit to the right. You followed his arm to where he was pointing, only to see a cluster of wild deer standing there, grazing.

A small quiet gasp left you as you saw them and you turned to look at Jotaro, a giant smile on your face that made his heart skip a beat. He squeezed your hand in response and you tightly gripped his’ back while you looked at the animals again.

Just feeling you so tightly hold on, your shoulder touching his as you were crouched behind the fallen over log, there was nowhere else that Jotaro would rather be.

“Did you know fawns do not have a detectable smell? That way predators cannot smell and find them.” Jotaro quietly spoke up, having leaned a bit more into you to whisper that into your ear so that the deer would not get alerted by your presences.

“Really?” You questioned, almost with childlike wonder, and Jotaro nodded, the corners of his mouth quirking up ever so slightly, showing how content he was. “What else?” You questioned, hoping he knew more.

“Well, some deer have been seen eating infant birds, which is uncanny since deer are primarily herbivores.” Jotaro said that with a little hesitancy. He just said the first thing that came to mind, realising only once he said it how gruesome what he actually said was. But you were quick to put him at ease.

“Oh that’s nasty. I thought they were the nice animals.” You joked a bit as you turned back to watching the deer.

Reassured by your words, Jotaro continued. “Some mothers digest their foetuses if times are hard and she is malnourished.” By now, he was not looking at the deer at all anymore. Just watching your expressions as you looked at the animals and your reactions to the information he gave you. Wanting to see you react to his words, to him.

“How hard would surviving have to be if you need to resort to... that.” Jotaro watched as your brows furrowed a bit, your lips turning downwards some as you showed compassion for those deer that you most likely would never even cross paths with. “What else?” Your whisper was barely audible but Jotaro did hear and swallowed a bit nervously. Oh god, why was he nervous?

“Well, deer practice both polygamy as well as monogamy.” His eyes drifted down to your hands still entwined together, drifting back up after to see your reaction.

“Huh, I thought the bucks would just... get whatever female they can have.” You spoke, still looking entranced by the animals further ahead.

“No. Some- some mate for life.”

His words were accompanied by a soft squeeze of your hand and with that, you finally turned back to look at Jotaro. And right then and there he decided that; yes, it was worth it.

“Y/N.” He started as he turned to his right, now fully facing you, making you turn your body slightly toward him as well while he had his head tilted down, burning holes into the log to his left as he questioned himself. Was he really just gonna do it?

“Jotaro?” You questioned after a minute of silence.

Jotaro looked at the forest floor for a second longer before abruptly raising his head. “I’m in love with you.”

Blinking twice, it took a second before you recoiled a bit in shock, Jotaro looking right into your eyes as he said that, looking the most serious he could and only then did the words he spoke actually sink in. “...What?” You questioned with a breathless voice, your eyes wide.

“You heard me. I don’t want to say it again.” Jotaro leaned forward and grabbed your other hand as well, his eyes darting down to it and back up to your eyes.

He gently tugged you towards himself, placing your hand on his side before letting go and putting his left hand on the side of your face, his right still entwined with yours. Slowly, he started leaning in, searching your eyes to see what you were thinking.

“Jotaro?” You whispered softly, an unsure tone in your voice.

“Stop me if you don’t want it.” He quietly said back before leaning in fully, softly connecting his lips with yours as he closed his eyes.

Your eyes were wide as your brain tried to catch up with what was happening. But then, your eyes just fluttered closed and tentatively, you leaned into him, kissing back.

Feeling you kiss back, a massive weight got lifted from Jotaro’s shoulders and he wasted no time, eagerly sliding his hand from your jaw to the back of your head so he could pull you closer, deepening the kiss sweetly as he tilted his head a bit.

He had waited so long for this, and it was everything he had imagined it would be so many times. It was addicting. You were addicting. But this was one addiction he did not want to stop.

Your lips were just so soft and warm and the feeling of kissing you after all this time made that nervous flutter in his chest into a fire. With his hand still holding yours he squeezed softly, his lips continuing to move with yours before you squeezed back, making Jotaro hum a bit.

Slowly, the two of you broke apart, Jotaro returning his hand back to cupping your cheek, very gently running his thumb over your cheekbone as he took in your flushed face.

For the first time ever, a deep red blush was visible to you on his face as well, and just the thought of him blushing so much over you caused your own blush to burn even brighter.

The two of you just looked at each other in silence for a bit, stunned and letting sink in what actually just happened.

“Did you ever realise I was sweet on you?” Jotaro questioned after a bit and you shook your head, though your heart skipped a beat at his words. “You really are oblivious then.” He spoke but there was a small smile on his face, his thumb still rubbing back and forth. “Everyone else seemed to see it, even the brats you teach. But I guess it worked out for the best.” With that he lifted his right hand, turning it so that the back of your hand was facing him as he brought it up to his mouth. He didn’t outright press a kiss to it, just simply holding it there against his lips, but you felt butterflies crashing around in your stomach at the action.

“I-I’m sorry then.” You apologised but Jotaro clicked his tongue, bringing your hands down and finally untangling them as he instead brought it up to cradle your head, his eyes piercing into yours.

“Don’t ever apologise. I don’t want you to change, you don’t have to. Understood?”

You nodded a small nod, lost in his eyes as he wouldn’t look away.

“Good.” He fell into a small silence as his face shifted to appear a little warmer again. “Can- I kiss you again?”

“Yeah.” You smiled shyly and Jotaro’s gaze drifted down to your lips, slowly leaning forward-

Several thumps echoed through the forest and both your heads shot up to see the entire herd of deer suddenly springing and running away, rapidly moving in the direction of you and Jotaro before rushing past to the right, huffing and grunting slightly as they ran.

“W-Why did they do that?” You asked, having a hunch you did not like as the both of you quickly got up onto your feet properly.

“Something must have spooked them.” Jotaro remarked, scanning the tree line and you looked up at him with worry. “Let’s go, come on.”

You were about to start moving when harsh barks and growls echoed from behind you two, further into the forest.

Your eyes widened in fear but Jotaro wasted no time in grabbing your hand as he started running through the forest, back to where he left Jojo.

More barks sounded, getting louder as you ran and Jotaro whistled loudly, warning Jojo to get ready as the two of you ran towards the horse.

As soon as you reached the large animal, a howl sounded behind yourself and you gasped, starting to look behind you but not getting the chance to as Jotaro picked you up by your hips and lifted you onto the saddle.

Having a good view and vantage point now, you easily saw the pack of wolves running through the trees towards you while Jotaro quickly untangled the reins, throwing them over his horse’s neck before putting his foot into the stirrup.

“Jojo, go!” Jotaro shouted out, his left leg barely over the animal’s back as he pulled the reins to the right, the horse immediately reacting as all his muscles - that had been tensed in preparation - were now being utilised, the animal shooting forward as if an arrow out of a bow while Jotaro only still hung on the side.

And right on time, as the wolves reached you the moment Jojo began running, leaving them going in pursuit while Jotaro finished slinging his leg over the saddle, jamming his other foot into the stirrup.

The man behind you immediately stood up in the stirrups as Jojo accelerated into a gallop in just a few seconds. With his right arm around your waist, Jotaro lifted you up with him as well, holding you pressed firmly against his chest since you didn’t have the stirrups to stand in.

Leaning forward over the neck of the horse, you could feel Jotaro’s breath against your ear, the man’s warm chest pressed firmly against your back as he held you up and simultaneously tilted forward, providing as little air resistance as possible to run.

Horse hooves galloped over the dirt, the sounds heavy and thundering as Jojo ran at full speed through the forest, dodging trees left and right, branches breaking as the horse barrelled through underbrush.

The wolves growled and barked hard, nipping at the larger animal’s side when they could. “Come on, Jojo!” Jotaro shouted, the horse pushing just a bit harder and gaining on the canines.

Bursting through even more bushes, a thick fallen over tree suddenly blocked the way. Without missing a beat, Jojo vaulted over it, all the noise momentarily seemed to cease as you flew through the air, right up until the stallion crashed back onto the forest floor. Immediately, Jojo rushed on, sprinting ahead while the wolves jumped over the log as well, still in pursuit.

Wind rushed past, trees still being dodged left and right by the horse right up until he reached the edge of the forest, breaking through brush and running out, back onto the plains, the loud barks and growls of the wolves going in pursuit slowly dwindling and decreasing the farther away from the forest you got - the canines no longer finding it worth it to waste their energy by going in pursuit.

Jotaro chanced a glance behind as you continued to gallop away, seeing the wolves slow down and stop, just watching as you all ran away, becoming smaller and smaller with each second.

- - - -

After what felt like forever, Jotaro finally pulled on the reins, slowing Jojo into a canter before going into a trot and then a step, sitting back down in the saddle, bringing you down with him as well and finally letting go of his arm around your waist.

His breathing was slightly heavy as he pulled once more, coming to a complete stop.

Slightly turning around in the saddle and looking behind himself once more, there was no sign of the wolves and Jotaro let out a deep sigh, turning forward again and lifting his hat from his head to run a hand through his hair before putting it back on.

Putting one hand on your waist, Jotaro leaned forward and patted Jojo’s neck, calming the animal down as he praised it.

“That was, uh- that was- yeah, that was.” You concluded, just shortly laughing at the end, more to get rid of the nerves and adrenalin that had been shooting through your body than anything else.

“It was.” Jotaro chuckled softly as you looked back at him, just huffing a laugh of your own as you turned to look forward again, instead slumping back into Jotaro, leaning against him as you let out a deep sigh; Jotaro automatically placing his hands on your hips to hold you.

“It could’ve gone quite wrong had you and Jojo not been as fast as you were.” You took in a deep breath before sitting up straight again, figuring to not put all your weight on the man behind you. “I forgot that was the reason why my dad always carried a massive rifle when we used to go there.” You said but heard Jotaro ‘tch’ behind you as he let you go.

A disagreeing rumble sounded from in his chest. “There’s no need to shoot innocent animals just because they are hungry or feel threatened.”

“Thinking like that will easily get you into trouble, partner.” A new voice said, making you and Jotaro snap to attention, seeing a man with another rider behind him - both of them carrying rifles - walking up from behind, putting you both on high alert.

A snarl developed on Jotaro’s face as he crossed eyes with the man up front. “You. What do you want?”

Your eyes were slightly wide as you recognised him. He was the leader of the group of riders who had come to rob the church yesterday...

The man’s eyes glided from Jotaro, down to you, and back up while he circled around, and Jotaro didn’t like it one bit, snaking his right arm around your waist and discreetly yet protectively pulling you closer.

Looking behind himself from the corner of his eye, Jotaro took note of the other rider - he had hung back and was now walking his horse to stand behind Jojo - though his main focus remained on the man from yesterday.

“Well what kind of greeting is that? I see you still haven’t learnt some manners, boy. But then again, why would you?” The man from before grinned and Jotaro narrowed his eyes. While his friend was just a few meters behind, this outlaw was standing about seven meters away in front. “Do you have any guesses as to why we’re here?”

“...”

Jotaro didn’t say anything as he sized the other man up, a dangerous glare on his face, borderline scowl.

Seeing as Jotaro wasn’t answering, the man took it upon himself to do so, a suddenly dangerous aura around him, masked by mock politeness. “Let me get straight to the point then. You know what you did with your little stunt yesterday?” He cocked his head, trying to incite a physical response though he got none. “You humiliated me. Hurt my pride.” He placed his hand on his chest as if in hurt, looking down for a second before snapping his eyes open and staring into Jotaro’s eyes with an almost deranged look. “And I care about my pride. So I think I’ll hurt something you care about.”

Your eyes widened as the world seemed to slow down, the man pulling his revolver up and pointing it at straight you, the sound of a gun cocking behind yourselves as well.

Yet Jotaro was faster, signaling Jojo and making the horse spring into action on the command.

The giant black stallion bucked backward and slammed his hind legs into the rider standing behind himself, causing the man to be roughly kicked out of the saddle, instantly taken out of the fight by the harsh impact of the giant animal’s hooves on his temple and torso, his horse scaring and sprinting away simultaneously.

A gunshot sounded at the same time, a bullet whizzing just over your and Jotaro’s heads.

The leader had aimed for your head but due to Jojo bucking, you and Jotaro had leaned down, the bullet shooting past where your heads had just been.

Jojo landed back on all four of his legs and Jotaro kicked his belly, urging him to go, but the outlaw was quicker than Jotaro expected, him having already reloaded before the horse could even start to run.

You felt Jotaro’s hand on your waist tighten as he yanked you aside to the right just when a gunshot sounded.

Attempting to shield himself with his left arm, Jotaro let out a short shout in pain as the bullet seared through his flesh, shooting straight through the middle of his forearm and embedding itself right underneath his left clavicle.

“Jotaro!!” You called out in fear and Jotaro gritted his teeth, growling slightly as he let go of your waist after pulling you back up, yanking the reins to the left to make Jojo turn while he grabbed his gun from behind his back, aiming it at the man.

Said man had his gun pointed at Jotaro in a similar fashion, once more resulting in a stand off between the two.

“What’re you gonna do now that there ain’t no sheriff to come to your aid?” The outlaw smirked but Jotaro calmly stared down the barrel of the gun.

“Don’t need one.”

With that, he fired his gun while simultaneously making Jojo prance up, confusing the gang member enough to make his bullet go wide, only for the man to yelp as Jotaro’s bullet shot into his gun, making him drop the thing.

You fell back into Jotaro when the stallion suddenly got up on his hind legs, the young man letting out a pained grunt as you did, right before Jojo fell back down on all fours.

Jotaro wasted no time in slinging his right arm around your waist again to hold you, kicking his heels to make Jojo storm forward where Jotaro gave a signal for his horse to turn left with his foot, yanking his right leg out of the stirrup to instead harshly kick the outlaw out of his saddle.

Yelling in anger and pain as he fell, he was abruptly silenced as he got the wind knocked out of him by landing on the ground, his horse panicking and running away quick and fast.

With a groan he tilted his head up, seeing his gun lay on the ground not far from him and he quickly made a lunge for it, grabbing it with both hands yet freezing as he heard the heavy hoof-falls behind him step once, twice, before stopping. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Jotaro high atop his horse, a threatening image with the man’s only reassurance being the iron in his hands.

Jotaro, calm as could be, just simply drifted his eyes to the gun, acknowledging it before looking back into the eyes of the outlaw with a cold look.

“Try it. Let’s see who’s the fastest gun.”

The man’s breath hitched. There was no doubt or hesitation in Jotaro, his threatening glare pointed down as he challenged him

Everything seemed to quiet down and freeze for a second, the stare off between the two feeling like an eternity yet lasting no more than two seconds. But with nothing to lose, the outlaw suddenly hardened his stare and abruptly rolled onto his back, providing a dodging movement as he simultaneously brought his gun up, ready to fire haphazardly.

Yet Jotaro was two steps ahead of him, his gun already brought up, aimed, and the trigger pulled before the outlaw had even the chance to put his finger on it.

Jotaro’s bullet immediately shot through both of the man’s hands at the same time, since he was still holding his gun with both hands. His scream of pain echoed over the plains as he dropped his gun, unable to hold it any longer. Blood started bubbling from the wounds and he shakily brought his hands up to his face, stifled yells and pained noises leaving him as he snapped his head up with a venomous glare.

The glare dissipated into eyes widened in fear the moment Jotaro walked Jojo up next to the outlaw and stared directly down at him. There was a cold rage in his eyes that made the man’s breath hitch. “Never threaten her again.”

With that, Jotaro pointed his gun down and shot twice, one in each foot, not a single speck of remorse in him as the man screamed in pain before passing out from it.

- - - -

Jotaro was sitting on the ground with you in front of him.

“You’re so stupid.” You choked out, tears in your eyes as you slammed the bloodied cloth in your hand onto the dried grass.

“Y/N-“

“No!”

Jotaro shut up at that. He couldn’t recall if you had ever raised your voice at him, and now he just stared into your eyes, the tears you were holding back making them glassy while his eyebrows creased in worry, feeling as if he had to say at least something.

“...I can’t see you getting hurt.” He softly said, attempting to grab your hand, but that set you off.

“Oh, so that means I have to see you getting hurt?!” You called out and Jotaro stopped himself.

You were starting to get more and more upset and he needed to calm you down. Doing just that, Jotaro - not thinking clearly due to the pain and not knowing what else to do - just grabbed you by the back of your head with his right hand and pulled you towards himself, slamming his lips against yours, shutting you up.

Tears were now streaming down your face as he kissed you, a small sob leaving you and muffled by his mouth as you placed your left hand on his neck, feeling his warm skin under your palm as you just gave in.

Feeling you do that, Jotaro tentatively broke the kiss, pulling back only slightly before he placed his forehead to yours, you now trying to stifle your crying.

“Hey.” He softly spoke to try and get your attention and you opened your eyes, looking up to look into his. “I’m alright. The bullet didn’t even fully go into my chest, you know that, you pulled it out.”

“I-It was only halfway in.” You sniffled out with a nasally voice, Jotaro petting the back of your hair as he nodded briefly, the feeling a bit strange as he still held his forehead to yours.

“Exactly. So you don’t have to worry.”

“But your arm-!”

“-Will heal.” Jotaro finished for you, finally leaning back. “Right now let’s just get home.”

You sniffled once more and wiped the tears from your face with the fabric of your sleeve, your hands and wrists too stained with blood to use for that. “Once we’re back in town you’re going to a doctor.” You spoke out with a bit of a hoarse voice and Jotaro snorted softly in amusement, a slight smile on his face as he used his thumb to wipe away a last tear that you missed.

“I figured.”

You took a deep breath to reign in and steel your emotions, releasing it again as you focused back on his arm. His trenchcoat was partly off and you had rolled up his sleeve of the shirt he wore underneath it, still unnerved by the see-through hole that you knew sat underneath the improvised bandage, blood staining it from the profusely bleeding wound in his arm. “Don’t ever get into a fight on my behalf again.” You spoke as you picked up the cloth you had thrown into the grass earlier, starting to try and wipe away the blood you had accidentally got onto his neck.

‘It’s one of the only reasons I ever get into a fight.’ He thought to himself but instead shook his head slightly. “No promises.”

- - - -

With only slight effort Jotaro had gotten back into the saddle, you climbing into it yourself for the first time ever now that Jotaro wasn’t there to lift you before you could. He managed to get on behind you with one arm, grabbing hold of your hip afterwards given how you had already taken the reins.

Neither of you spoke much the entire ride back, yet every now and then, Jotaro would softly squeeze the hand on your hip. Comforting you even in silence.

Riding back into town, you immediately made way for the doctor’s, Jotaro rolling his eyes behind you at your stubbornness. If you had your eyes set on helping people, there really was no changing your mind.

“Y/N, you go to the sheriff’s and report what happened like we discussed.” Jotaro said to you as he carefully dismounted, making sure not to use his left side too much.

“What? No, I wanna go in with you.” You protested, looking a little hurt and Jotaro reached his good hand up to grab yours still on the reins.

“I’ll be fine. Those guys won’t stay there knocked out forever and you know it. You can come back after you’ve gone and reported it.” He said before slapping his horse’s neck twice. “C’mon, Jojo, go.”

With that, the horse started gently trotting and you looked back at Jotaro as you went further down the street. Concerned for the man as his figure got smaller and smaller before you saw it enter the doctor’s office.

Unfortunately, the sheriff’s was almost on the other side of town, so it might take a lot longer to come back than you would have liked.

- - - -

“Hello sheriff Miller.” You smiled a small awkward smile while the sheriff shot up from his seat, his eyebrows raised.

“What happened, darling? You’re covered in blood!” He walked forward, taking hold of your upper arm as he looked you over.

“Uhm, well you see, me and Jotaro- uh, Kujo, Jotaro Kujo, I mean - we were out riding when that gang from yesterday approached us. Two of them at least. And, well- let’s just say things got ugly...”

“Are you both alright?” The sheriff immediately asked and you swallowed.

“Sort of. Jotaro got shot.” You teared up a bit but shook your head when the sheriff placed his hand on your shoulder. “But he’s at the doctor now and I came here to say that the two men who attacked us are knocked out on the road to the forest to the north of here. Almost directly next to the forest.”

“They’re knocked out?” At that the sheriff raised his eyebrows and you nodded.

“One got kicked by a horse, the other got shot.” You said but quickly held your hand up when the sheriff furrowed his eyebrows. “U-Uh, but only in his hands and feet! Jotaro didn’t kill him! It was all in self defence! Really!” You frantically called out while sheriff Miller straightened up, looking down at you with a stern expression.

- - - -

“The guy and the gang he was a part of apparently have a bounty on their heads, so you won’t see any consequences for shooting a man.”

You were walking side by side with Jotaro, you on his left, and Jojo having to be on his right so he could lead his horse with his good hand.

Jotaro hummed in response to you as you walked the road back to your home, Jotaro insisting that he escort you there.

His arm was now in a sling, the wounds nicely and cleanly stitched and wrapped up and you felt a lot better seeing that - even though he lost quite some blood - he was walking as if totally fine.

You just wished things could have gone differently. This day took a nosedive from being one of the best in your life, over to one of the worst, with someone you care deeply about being shot. Oh god, you confessed to Jotaro. And he confessed to you. You totally forgot in all the chaos. What if-

“What are you thinking about?”

“Eh?” You snapped out of your thoughts, looking to your right to see Jotaro looking down at you curiously. “Oh, just... today.”

“Mhm.” He hummed, looking forward again, as if contemplating it.

“I just... I’m sorry.” You whispered and Jotaro turned to you with a raised eyebrow.

“Why are you apologising?”

“Because you got hurt and-“

“Is it your fault I got shot?”

“W-Well, no, not exactly I guess-“

Jotaro stopped walking and instead turned to you, taking hold of your chin and turning your head towards himself. “Exactly.” Your eyes were so innocent and you looked like you felt so guilty despite what he said, making Jotaro slowly blink and sigh as he closed his eyes briefly.

A quick glance into the street showed it was rather empty, and Jotaro snaked his good arm around your waist, pulling you into himself.

“Y/N-“

Just deciding ‘fuck it’, Jotaro wasted no more time with idle talk and slotted his lips over yours.

Part 1  |  Part 2  |  Part 3

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

@stingray-sins

[crewofthegoldrush]

bby im bored so yall get some excerpts from pending fics -

Roommate AU

Monty holds out her hand and Aubrey drops the key into her palm. It was one of those new fangled key fobs. "Don't worry, I'll take care of ya."

A whistle behind her. "Yea I bet ya will, Boss.”

A statement like that might normally please her ego - but not at work. Monty twists her head around and glares at Puckett, and he has the decency to blush, the color obvious on his dull green scales. She stares at him until he mutters an apology and lumbers back to the garage.

Monty thinks she hears Aubrey chuckle. "Sorry about these guys. I've been tryin' to work on their manners. Do you wanna borrow my car so you can get back to - I dunno, headquarters?"

Aubrey opens her mouth, then pauses, checks her phone. Checks her watch, then her phone again. "Maybe," she says on a sigh, biting her lip. "Eventually. I'm doing as he asked, he can deal without me for a while."

"Y'know," Monty wrinkles her snout, "I didn't think you were this kind of assistant."

"I'm not," she deadpans. "She quit some time ago. I haven't a clue if they plan on replacing her, lucky me."

"Tell you what, take my car back and I'll drive the fancy car over tonight. But since he can spare you, you wanna get some lunch?"

Aubrey seems to think that over, but there wasn't much to think about, so she nods soon enough. "Alright. Thank you, Cowboy."

Her heels click against the linoleum floor as she follows Monty out, to another annoying choir of whistles and heckles, this time directed at Monty for not sharing that she had a "girlfriend." Aubrey, in a good natured way that Monty doesn't usually see of her, takes the heckling in stride and even winks at Rigby on the way out. The little kobold turns red from head to toe.

Once outside the shop, Aubrey gives Monty an aside glance. "Are you quite sure your aunt didn't throw herself down some stairs to get away from them?"

"She assures me she did not."

Soulmate AU

The day after she realized her book was nowhere to be found in Montgomery's room - more specifically, the day they were picking up Captain Wayfinder's away team from Runswick - Harper notices a faded white scar on her arm.

Brow furrowed at what the hell could cause that - a spell? A knife? - she feels a familiar urge to write. Perhaps it was Harper's general good mood, or maybe it was more her frazzled nerves from listening to Demetrius and Brunhilde argue over a tomato for two and a half days.

So she does. Be careful next time, yes? she writes, then draws an arrow on her shoulder.

Her skin tingles as she receives an answer. No worries gal, just a bounty that wouldn't go down.

She drums her fingers on her skin, a small smile on her lips. It was like old times, and apparently Harper was sentimental. She had been feeling the urge to reach out to her soulmate more lately - again, something she blames on Harper. But she isn't ready - Harper's and Aubrey's differences aside, she hasn't changed her opinion on being Marked.

She finishes getting dressed and goes to check stock.

"Fool's Gold 2"

You watch her settle against the ship's railing, familiar even on this ship that wasn't yours. You take your place next to her, hyper aware of your petulant body language. You take a swig from your flask, offering it to her after cleaning the spout with a gold glow.

She raises a brow at the metal container, eyeing it wearily, and you manage a grin. "It's just water."

Looking more at ease, she shakes her head anyway, and you let it hang limply in your hand as you fold them on the banister.

"Something is bothering you."

You glance at her; Aubrey has mimicked your casual position but her eyes are as intense as they always are as she simply watches you. "It's been months since we started this, Aubrey. Shouldn't I have more than the basics by now? It shouldn't be this hard, should it?"

You were certainly better than where you were when you started. But compared to her, who had picked up firearm training so well that you had very nearly finished her gun by now, you feel indignant at your slow progress.

Aubrey hums. "You don't need to be so hard on yourself. As you've said many times, your heart is not fully in it yet, right? Your magic is improving and there are plenty of regular distractions."

She was right about that - it was hard to truly focus on leisure time when the two of you were still expected to handle your regular duties, now, you suspect, under the watchful eyes of the Tains. Nevermind the fact that, with your ship still seized, you and your team were attending to various matters, both personal and necessary. You yourself had taken up bounty hunting again to keep your coin stock healthy enough, and there were days you didn't see Harper at all.

"Besides," she continues, gesturing for you to hand her your flask, and you do. "Muscle memory is one of the first things you need to train. You are not there yet, but I'm confident that you will.

She tucks your flask away. "You are too stubborn for the case to be anything else."

You grin at her backhanded compliment and the way she just stole what she probably assumed was indeed alcohol from you, something Harper would do for Demetrius.

"I can always count on you to humble me, darlin'."

[bump1nthen1ght]

Deep Blue Sea (Shark Merman x Reader). Prologue

Pairing: Gender Neutral! Reader/Shark Merman

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Soulmate AU

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1206 words

Summary: The compass on your wrist points in the direction of your soulmate. Your other half, the person you will spend the rest of your life with. But why has yours never moved?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

A/N: Alternate Title - Shape of Water 2: Electric Boogaloo

Cross-posted to Ao3!

You’ve known soulmates were bullshit since you were 14.

You’ve known since you first got a pitying look, a peppy quip to “look at the bright side of things.” Since people began deciding things about you before they even knew you.

-------

When you were seven, a year after your soulmate mark appeared, you and your family went to visit your aunt in Michigan. It’s a short flight from Virginia and you talk your mom’s ear off about jet-skies, lake monsters, and swimsuits. You’re so wrapped up in the excitement of travel that it's only when your cousin points it out do you notice.

The compass on your wrist hasn’t moved, not even a millimeter, away from the W point. Same as it had been on the east coast. You overhear your uncle joking about it one night, right before the kids are put to bed.

“Looks like ____’s got a long way to go, huh?”

Your mom gives a dramatic sigh, slapping her hands against her cheeks, slightly red from wine.

“I suppose so. I would’ve preferred someone closer to  home, just so I could check up on them, but it’s just not in the cards.”

You don’t know what she means, but your little kid brain registers any tone of disappointment as genuine. While laying in your cousin's bunk bed, you flick your wrist several times, trying to move that compass point.

Unsurprisingly, it stays still.

But it doesn't move when you visit family in Texas either.

You’re 12 at this point, your family taking a long Christmas in Bueda. You spend the flight with your nose stuck in a fantasy book. Most of family time as well, still too young to hang with the teens but too old to play with the little kids. It’s a good disguise for eavesdropping, especially when you hear the adult table bring up your compass.

“Dang, and I had my heart set on a cowboy son-in-law.” That dad-joke gets a laugh, but you feel the tips of your ears get red and force yourself to focus on the page in front of you.

By high school, you have a bone to pick with your soulmate.

You like where you live. You like the ocean, you like your friends, you like the picturesque four seasons.

Yet your whole life people expect you to get gone the minute you turn 18. The counselor puts emphasis on west-coast colleges (“They may not be Ivy’s technically but the UC’s are very good schools!”) and it becomes an accepted rumor that you’ll disappear the night of graduation, a note left and a suitcase packed to begin your cross-country soulmate search.

Spiteful as you are, you apply to University of Virginia and get a full-ride scholarship. The school is too good for anyone to make any comments, but you internally rejoice one-upping the system, as small as it was.

Those four years of pride feel less-sweet when you apply to UC Santa Cruz, one of the top Ocean Sciences schools, and have to move across the country to California. Your mother had grown out of soulmate jokes and a part of you knows she never really meant them, but you can’t help the stubborn 14 year old brewing in your mind.

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

When you're outside of the airport, hailing a cab to your new apartment, you fight the urge to take off your watch. Even the beautiful ocean view fails to completely distract you, your head forcefully locked into looking out the cab window instead of at your wrist.

While unpacking, you nonchalantly check, the compass catching your eye as you prop open one of your boxes.

The arrow points west.

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

For the first week of grad-school, you wear a scrunchie around your wrist. The unmoving point irks you, more so than you like. You are not sure if you could take any more questions.

That Sunday you walk down by the boardwalk to destress. You’ve made plans to visit the more touristy areas with some classmates next weekend, but today, you just want some time on the beach.

The sounds of the waves crashing reminds you of home, although the foam that tickles your feet is far warmer than the east coast. It’s probably an hour before sunset, a photographic time to be lost in thought. The sight of an endless horizon calms your mind.

“Hmm, maybe their Hawaiian? Or are there islands closer than that? Oh shit, maybe their Japanese, or maybe-” You shake your head, having unconsciously waded up to your ankles. “I wouldn’t even know what to do. I just started school, I have enough on my plate.” You pull up your pant legs a little more, letting the tide push against your calf.

The ocean looks infinite, beautiful in its possibilities and unanswered questions. You chose the right career to pursue.

“Yeah, I can wait a bit.”

The moment feels nice, the ocean water smoothes away the edges of your anxieties. For some dramatic finality, you pull up your watch and take a peek at your wrist.

The arrow points North.

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

“Sorry, excuse me!”

Damn, I really should’ve put my shoes back on.

The pinch of slightly missed splinters and small pebbles dig into the soles of your feet, shoulders bumping into multiple tourists as you keep up your gaze low and locked on your wrist.

The needle is fidgeting, beginning to point more West as you dart across the boardwalk. You mutter a curse as you take a swift turn, just narrowly avoiding rolling your ankle as you hit sand again. The added weight makes your calves burn, but you keep running. The arrow shifts more North.

You run for enough time to break a sweat and for the sounds of civilization to fade away. A jolt runs through you as your toes hit cold water and stone. You’ve reached a tidepool, small and secluded.

The needle is still, pointed out towards the open ocean. West.

Catching your breath, you feel your spirits drop as you stare at barnacles and stray bits of seaweed.

God, what am I doing?

A large sturdy rock juts out with just enough room for you to sit and lament on. You take a seat, racked by the feeling that you’ve somehow lost. To whom, you don’t know.

A large crab scuffles at the end of the tidepool. You look up and smile forlornly as it comes closer to you.

“ I guess you're my soulmate, little guy?” The crab clicks its claws. It looks as if it’s moving to snip at your toes.

But before you can slide your feet away, a large, grey, webbed hand slams down on top of the crab.

A line of electricity rolls down your spine and you jerk back.

“Gotcha!”

The clawed hand is attached to a grey arm, which leads to a muscular shoulder and a very large body, which stretches the length of a tidepool and ends with a tail. He has a big smile full of far too many sharp teeth.

He looks up when he sees the tip of your toes wiggle. His eyes are an abyssal black from corner to corner.

On his wrist there’s a tattooed nautical arrow, pointed directly at you.

[tearsofgrace]

the final rose: chapter 2

i wrote the next chapter only took me a million years

word count: 5.5k, tags: bachelorette, au, deancas fluff, cowboys

read on archive

Cas didn’t want to be here.

Well, that was a lie. 

He wanted to be here… but he wasn’t an obsessed bastard like the rest of the guys here. He wasn’t gonna cheat and fake it to get ahead. He hadn’t even submitted a damn audition tape. 

But he was here now, so he was gonna try. And Lisa seemed like a nice enough girl… maybe there was something there. And the guys, regardless of their questionable motives and outlooks on life, were miles beyond easy on the eyes. They were fucking hot. 

The first rose ceremony had been a mixture of nerves and hope. He wasn’t exactly sure if he was hopeful of getting sent home or getting to stay, but either way, he was here now. And there was no going back (he could leave… but honestly the free food and nice house made it worth sticking around for just a little longer). 

After they toasted, Lisa was whisked away and the producers briefed them on how the different rooms were assigned. Apparently, they weren’t even adult enough to decide their own sleeping arrangements, but he guessed they were probably doing it for the drama anyway. 

There were five or six guys in every room. Which was just fine by him. Until it wasn’t. 

A producer he didn’t know the name of led them up the stairs into the narrow hallway that led into several other bedrooms. He stood in front of one and called out five names. 

“Benny, Harry, Cas, Nick, and, uh,” he glanced down at a clipboard before pointing behind Cas, “Dean. You guys are in this one.” 

Cas felt his stomach drop but he kept his face set, there were still cameras on them, after all. Even at night. Even while they slept. Besides, he could deal with Nick, Benny, and even Dean for the short while it would take for them to get sent home. At least Harry wasn’t so bad. 

The producer moved on and the rest of the guys followed him while Dean and Benny shuffled into the room, followed by the other three. 

Cas walked to the center of the room where their suitcases lay waiting for them and grabbed his, barely sparing a glance at the rest of the guys before climbing onto the top bunk and falling back to stare at the ceiling. 

When he forced himself to sit back up, Benny and Harry had claimed the other bunk bed and Nick had sprawled dramatically on the twin in the corner. Dean was just standing in the middle of the room glancing around dumbly. 

He glared up at Benny who just shrugged and gestured at his claimed top bunk before jumping off it and rummaging through his suitcase. 

“Looks like you’re with me, Winchester,” Cas said, keeping his voice neutral but seething underneath. When Dean looked up at him with barely concealed horror he hid a smile. Time to make the straight boys uncomfortable. “As long as I’m on top,” he added as an afterthought. 

Dean just scoffed and grabbed his suitcases before shoving one under the bed and pulling a pair of gray sweats and a loose black t-shirt out. 

The other guys moved sluggishly after him, sitting up and rubbing their eyes before getting a change of clothes out. He half expected them to sleep in their tuxes… at least they weren’t that sloppy.  

There was only one bathroom on the whole second floor, which was maybe the stupidest part of the whole thing, so Benny, Nick, and Harry all got away to brush their teeth before all the other guys got there. 

Cas climbed down from his bed and grabbed his suitcase, resisting the urge to look up at Dean. It was just them in the room now. 

He was the exact kind of guy Cas had expected to find here. Arrogant, unfeeling, fuckboy vibes practically rolling off him. He was a dick. But Cas had plenty of experience with dicks. 

He changed quickly, and he could almost feel Dean’s eyes burning into him until he looked up and Dean jerked his head away. Cas smirked and climbed back onto the bed, exhaustion seeping in. 

Cas took deep breaths as the quiet sound of Dean’s clothes rustling filled the room. Then the bed shifted slightly as Dean settled in below him. With a sigh, he rolled over and pulled the blankets up closer around his neck. It was going to be a long couple of weeks. 

He woke up late, looking around blurrily as the sun filtered in through the small window in the corner. He could see Nick, Benny, and Harry all fast asleep in the beds across from him, but when he pulled himself down the ladder (why had he chosen a top bunk again?) Dean’s bed was neatly made and empty. 

Cas shrugged and grabbed some clothes from his suitcase before heading to the bathroom. Then he checked his watch, 8:07 am. Okay, so he hadn’t woken up that late. 

By the time he was heading down the stairs, the smell of freshly brewed coffee was wafting up from the kitchen. His mouth watered and he rubbed his eyes as he wandered inside, ignoring the camera crew standing to the side and going over a clipboard.  

“Morning, sunshine,” Dean said without looking up. “Chris is bringing by the first date card- God, that sounds stupid aloud,” Cas snorted in agreement, “Anyway, he’s bringing it by in an hour or so. I made some food. You hungry?” 

Cas squinted, looking at the man in front of him. This isn’t what he’d expected from Dean. Maybe from Mick or even Benny… They seemed like they had their lives together. But Dean? 

“What are you doing?” he finally asked. 

Dean frowned, looking back to the stove where he was stirring some scrambled eggs. “Making breakfast.” 

“Why are you up?” Cas asked, his head tilting further in confusion. 

He thought he saw a shadow flit briefly across Dean’s face but before he could be sure, it was gone. “Always get up early. It’s how my dad raised me. Now, c’mon. Get some food.” 

“Coffee first,” Cas said dryly, glancing back at the camera focused on them and pushing past Dean to the coffee pot. 

The other guys trickled down slowly, clapping Dean on the back and helping themselves to eggs, bacon, and fresh coffee. 

Dean took it all well, an easy smile on his face, and Cas felt a stab of jealousy. Pretty, a good cook, charismatic, must be a fun way to go through life. 

Some of the guys went out to the pool area, walking around the grounds, but most of them stayed inside, trading meaningless conversation. Before long, one of the producers who had been directing the cameras all morning got the guys from outside and gathered everyone in the living room. 

It’s all so fake, Cas thought bitterly, as the producers explained how there would be a knock on the door, Chris was coming to do the date card, blah blah blah. No one actually fell in love on this show. And if they did… then it was pure chance. 

He tried to school his face, mindful of the cameras, and looked up expectantly when Chris knocked. 

Gordon got up to get it and they watched him go, the forced conversation dying down. 

“Gentleman,” Chris said, rubbing his hands together as he walked into the room. “How’s it going? Liking the house?” 

Cas smiled and nodded with the rest of the guys, his eyes wandering around, staring pointlessly at the other contestants. 

“And what do we think of Lisa?” 

That got a bigger reaction, a murmur of conversation running through the room while a few guys got to say their piece. 

Good for them, they’ll make it into the episode, even if they don’t get chosen for the date. 

“Alright,” Chris said, after congratulating them all again, “Let’s talk about how this works. This week, there’ll be three dates. One group date, two one-on-one dates. If you get a rose on any of the dates, you’re safe. However, if you do not receive a rose on a one-on-one date, you will have to go home. Make the best of those. I have your first date card right here for the one-on-one.” 

Most of the guys had been zoning out through Chris’ whole explanation. They knew how it worked. They didn’t need to watch him say the same words he’d said over and over every year. But at the last sentence, they all leaned forward expectantly as he pulled out a white envelope.

“So,” Chris went on, twirling the envelope in his hands, “Have an awesome week. Enjoy your time with Lisa…” he glanced off at the producers for a thumbs up to keep going, “And I hope to see you all at the next rose ceremony.” 

He set the envelope on the table and they all stared, transfixed, as he left the room. 

Garth, who was sitting closest to it, glanced up at the producers, seeking direction, but got none. 

“Open it!” someone called. 

After a second, Nick shoved past Garth and grabbed the envelope with a sneer. “I’ll do it.” 

He pulled the card from the envelope slowly and Cas felt his hatred for this guy grow. He was looking around at everyone with a slight smirk touching the corners of his mouth, then he cleared his throat. 

“Benny,” he started, and everyone turned to look at the lucky winner. “Why don’t you and me have a reel good time?”

Nick snorted and handed the card to Benny, barely bothering to look at him. 

“Well, brother, you better go get ready,” Dean said, slapping him on the back. 

Benny stood up, looking dazed, and wandered up to his room. 

“Benny?” Michael said, voice dripping with scorn as soon as he left the room. “Like, seriously?”

“I know,” Nick agreed. 

Everyone else sat in silence, looking uncomfortably at the cameras. Eventually, one of the guys whose name had completely slipped Cas’ mind stood up and followed Benny upstairs. After that, everyone dispersed, looking for something to do in this beautiful mansion with no Wi-Fi, no TV, and no connections to their friends. 

Fun. 

Dean went to the producers and started making a list of different foods he wanted ordered. Garth went and sat by the pool, dipping his feet in without even rolling up his jeans. And Cas? He went upstairs to find his book, the one form of entertainment allowed in. 

He read all morning, already feeling like this was going to be the worst part. The waiting. The boredom. The constant cameras waiting for any sign of drama but mostly capturing the most mundane interactions that had ever happened on the planet. 

Benny came downstairs and everyone briefly looked up and wished him luck before he was on his way. 

And then they just waited, ate lunch--someone had ordered pizza. Ate dinner--still no sign of Benny. Of course not. These things took all day. 

Some of the guys decided to stay up and wait to see if Benny got a rose or not. If they had one more person to worry about or not. But Cas was beat. 

He moved towards the stairs and was stopped by a hand on his chest. 

“So?” 

He turned to see Anna staring at him, a clipboard in one hand and a headset dangling around her neck. 

“What?” he asked. 

“How’s it going?” a smile grew on her face. 

“Good,” he said simply.

“Come on, Castiel,” she said, looking around. “You’re doing me a big favor, at least tell me you like it.” 

“It’s going well. I’m glad I’m here,” he forced out, which seemed to satisfy her. 

“Good,” she said, moving out of the way. He started up the stairs but stopped when she called after him, “And Castiel?”

“What?” he asked, keeping his voice neutral. 

Her red hair glowed in the light of the mansion as her face softened. “Thanks for being here.” 

“Of course,” he said quietly, before turning and heading up the stairs. “Of course,” he muttered again once she was out of earshot. 

The next day came and Benny was still there, rose in hand, dazzling everyone with amazing stories of his night with Lisa. They’d gone to a real film studio and helped on set, then had a magical dinner in downtown LA. 

Cas tried to find the part of himself that was jealous, that wanted that time with Lisa, but it wasn’t there yet. It would be… he was sure. Just not yet. 

When the producers pulled him aside for an interview and asked him what getting on this groupdate would mean, he shrugged and said, “I don’t know.” 

When they pressed for more information he fought the urge to roll his eyes before saying, “Time with Lisa matters to everyone right now. But a group date isn’t a one-on-one.” 

Just then, the doorbell rang and they let him go meet the other guys in the living room, a few of them also trickling in from interviews. Garth went to get the card and stood at the front of the room, pulling everyone in with his magnetic yet ridiculous energy. Cas liked Garth. He was one of the only non-crazies in the house. 

“Alright, who’s ready?” he asked playfully, greeted by a loud cheer. Once things had quieted down, he pulled the card out and started reading. “Castiel,” Cas smiled, high-fiving the guys around him with enthusiasm he didn’t really feel. “Gabe,” this should be fun, “Asa, Cole, Garth,” he pointed to himself with a broad grin, “Aaron, Michael, Dean,” Cas zoned out after that, staring fixedly into the faces of the guys around him. 

All told, 14 guys were going on the date. 14 guys sharing time with Lisa. A recipe for the perfect night. 

Cas refocused his attention on Garth, who had finished the list of names and was now flipping the card over to read the date aloud. 

“Gentleman,” he started, and Cas wondered briefly if that was on the card or was Garth’s personal flair, “Let’s bare our souls. Love, Lisa.” 

Confusion settled over the room and everyone around him chattered excitedly about what it could mean. What secrets they would have to tell. Cas glanced up at Anna who had a smile touching the corners of her mouth. 

He’d seen enough seasons of this show to guess what it was. And he was not excited. 

They all got ready upstairs, crowding into each other’s space, barely enough room for the cameras to invade their privacy. He hadn’t seen guys like this care this much about their appearance since he was in college. And even then… well, it wasn’t exactly guys like this

It took three limos to get them all there. Which seemed like an extravagant waste of money but hey, it looked good on camera and that was what counted. 

No one really said anything on the ride. Made small talk, mostly. Not that there was much small talk left when they had no connection to the outside world. But there was something about the tiny interior of the limo, the cameras so close, that even at the producer’s leading questions the guys stayed quiet. 

When they finally stepped out into the bright sunshine, Cas let out a sigh of relief. 

Chuck was there waiting for them, and he gestured to a big building at the corner of the busy street they’d gotten off of and waved them forward, the whole time talking rapidly into the mic by his mouth. 

All the guys started making their way over and Cas followed, glancing up briefly at the sign on the building. Squinting against the sun, he could make out the word “Nightclub” in big block letters. 

Perfect. So it was what he thought. 

He looked back toward the building and saw Lisa standing in front of the big double doors, a broad grin fixed to her face. Her smile was infectious, and he couldn’t help a small smile back as all the guys gathered around. 

She exchanged a few words with a couple of them and then held her hands out to the building behind them. 

“You guys excited?”

“Yeah!” Garth shouted from the back, throwing in a wolf whistle for good measure. 

“Alright, alright,” Lisa laughed. “Anyone have a guess as to what we’re doing?” 

Yep. 

A hush fell over the group and Lisa laughed again. “Well, it’s gonna be super fun. And the best part is, it’s for charity.” 

The group cheered and Cas cast a side-eye at the rest of the group, seeing only Michael not clapping. Dick. 

“Anyway,” she said dramatically, her voice lowering as she turned toward the doors, “let’s find out what you got yourselves into.” 

The room they followed her into was dark and smokey and blue and pink strobe lights lit up the whole space. Loud music was playing through the speakers and Cas had to lean forward to hear Lisa as she led them into the room and directed them into a line. 

Then she turned toward a stage near the front and they all followed suit as the music stopped and the lights dimmed. 

A new song started and the lights started up again, this time in sync with the song. As they all watched, a line of men in cowboy hats (and heeled boots too, figures) walked out to the front of the stage, matching the steps to the beat. 

Yep, Cas thought bitterly. We’re gonna be baring it all. 

The strippers on stage started their dance as the contestants started coming to life, realizing what was happening. Cas watched the stage for a minute--cowboys weren’t really his thing--then turned curiously to see the rest of the group’s reactions. 

Most of them were looking incredulously at the stage, laughing nervously and cheering while their eyes opened to the fact that they were gonna be the ones up there soon enough. 

But something in the back caught Cas’ eye and he peered closer, letting his eyes adjust to the lights and the smoke. 

Dean was staring at the floor, color high in his cheeks, one hand raking through his hair as he shifted side-to-side. Cas glanced slowly from him up to the stage and a smirk slipped onto his face. Then Dean glanced up across the room, and for a split second, their eyes met. 

Cas cleared his throat and looked away, trying to make it seem like his eyes had been slipping over the crowd of guys. Really saved that one. 

Still. It was interesting. In an observationally interesting kind of way. 

Cas filed the interaction away for future reference and turned his attention back to the stage, where the stri- dancers had finished their show to a huge cheer from the guys and Lisa. 

Lisa walked out to the front of the group and gestured to a guy who’d come from some back room and was now standing next to her. His leather jacket was only done halfway up, showing his bare chest beneath. Cas nodded appreciatively as his eyes involuntarily moved up the guy’s body. This was more his style. 

“Boys,” Lisa started, “I’d like you to meet my friend, Scott. He’s gonna be helping us out today.” 

Scott nodded at her and turned to more fully face the guys. “Today, we’re going to be exposing you gentleman,” he paused briefly, glancing at the stage and smirking, “To the fine art of male exotic dancing.” Some of the braver guys in the group cheered again, but silence fell quickly. “Each of you will be performing on that stage later this afternoon. You’ll each have your own coach to help you, teach you the art.” 

Lisa stepped forward and smiled warmly at them. “If you guys are a little nervous, that’s okay. This is about trust. It’s about showing me why you’re here, and showing me you can have a great time. I don’t expect you guys to be great at it,” the guys all chuckled here and she joined in, “But I expect you to have fun with it.” 

“So,” Lisa’s smile widened and her eyes glinted, “Let’s get to some auditions!” 

The guys cheered as Chuck stepped forward, clipboard in hand. “Alright,” he shouted over the crowd. “Everyone up on the stage. Get loose, we wanna see some good dancing up there. You have three minutes to show Lisa what you got, and then we’ll decide which routine you’ll be doing.” 

The lights on the stage were bright, and Cas squinted up at them, resisting the urge to raise a hand. He could do this. He could do some stupid dance moves. He glanced over at Lisa, her head bent over a clipboard with Scott, a smile fixed to her face so natural she probably didn’t even know it was there. She was enjoying this. He could- he had to. 

The audition song went by excruciatingly slowly, everyone busting out their cringey dance moves and making as much eye contact as possible with Lisa. Cas felt the awkwardness seeping through him and his heart rate kicked up. This was just the goddamn beginning part. He could fucking do this. 

And then it stopped. Finally. 

Lisa and Scott made a few more notes on the clipboard they were holding, glancing up once or twice at the guys and whispering without pointing. 

Then Lisa walked forward with the clipboard in her hand. “Ready to find out how you’re stripping tonight?” she said playfully, winking at Michael who was standing in the front of the group. 

The guys all clapped, clearly feeling an energy that Cas didn’t. His world was still spinning, the lights and smoke crowding into his brain and leaving little room for thought. 

“There’ll be four different acts today,” Lisa went on. “Two groups of four--firemen and some policemen. One group of three, those guys will be robots. One duet for the cowboys. And,” she paused for effect, “One lucky gentleman will get to do a solo act all by himself as a bachelor!” 

Another round of cheering and Lisa shushed them all by holding the clipboard high. 

“Should I read the solo up to the groups of four, or the other way?” she asked seriously, looking over their heads at Chuck. 

Before he could reply, though, Michael shouted, “Tell us who the solo guy is!” 

This got a roar of approval from the guys so Lisa shrugged, glancing down at her clipboard as if to double check. 

“The solo act… drumroll, please,” the guys all started hitting their hands on their knees and Cas focused on his breathing, looking down at the floor, away from the lights, the noise… “Garth!” Lisa announced triumphantly. 

Everyone turned to look at him, slapping him on the back and grinning as he was ushered away but a coach. 

“The duet…” everyone started the drumroll again without prompting, “goes to Dean and Castiel!” 

Cas heard his name and looked up, trying to ignore the way everything was moving in slow motion around him. He nodded to the other guys mechanically and fixed a smile on his face, following the coach that took his arm and glancing back to see Dean walking behind him, his face flushed again. 

Once they were out of the room, Cas’ mind started to clear a little more, and he looked around, blinking. He could do this. He’d be fine. Just a duet… at least he hadn’t gotten the solo act. 

“Alright, my name’s Jay,” the coach said, slapping his hands together. He wasn’t bad looking, Cas mused softly, grounding himself more. “We have about an hour before you guys are supposed to get some sort of lunch, and then another two hours after that before call time. Which is plenty of time to learn about a two minute dance.” 

Cas gulped and glanced at Dean, who had lost his flustered look and was standing with a cocky grin on his face. 

“Let’s do this.” 

The guy took them through the steps, and Cas’ mind settled, falling into the routine. The first half wasn’t that bad. Simple stuff, more about owning the move than skill, according to Jay. 

But it was still fucking hard. Cas just wasn’t made to move like this. Not in front of a goddamn live audience. Even for charity. 

Dean, on the other hand, was a natural. He made all of it look easy, like he’d been doing it his whole life. And he did the whole thing with a swagger in his step that Cas knew for a fact had to be fake… but it sure didn’t look it. 

He kept turning to Cas and winking, giving him little pats on the back, hyping him up. And Cas didn’t want to admit it, but it did help… just a little bit. 

After an hour, both Dean and Cas were whisked away by crewmembers for a few interview questions. 

The questions were boring. How was he feeling? Some retroactive stuff like, what did he think when he walked in? How did Lisa look today? 

Cas answered mechanically, trying to seem excited and not terrified out of his mind. 

“And just one more,” Naomi said, tapping at her clipboard. “How’s working with Dean going?” 

“Good,” Cas said immediately, the word ripped from his mouth. “Dean’s good at this stuff.” 

Naomi just nodded distractedly and waved him away. “Right, right. Thanks, Castiel.” 

Cas stood and went into the main stage area where a buffet had been set up. He made a beeline for some honey and toast and then left the room, not bothering to chat it up and see how the other guys were doing. 

When he walked back into the rehearsal space, Dean was standing alone in the room, lifting up and examining the cowboy costumes layed out in the center. 

Cas cleared his throat and Dean started, whipping around to face him. “Hello, Dean.” The costume dropped to the floor. 

“Uh, hey, man.” 

Cas took a bite of his toast and regarded him thoughtfully. “Cowboys?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Dean shrugged and looked down at the outfit. “Wild West was fu-” he glanced at the cameraman behind Cas, “Friggin’ awesome, dude. Don’t tell me you’ve never seen a Western?” he added with a lopsided grin. 

“Just Brokeback Mountain,” Cas shot back. 

Dean gulped and dropped his gaze. “I’ve never- I don’t know what that is.” 

Before Cas could answer Ajay walked back in and pointed to the outfits laid out on the floor. 

“Get changed. Bathroom’s down the hall to the right,” he sipped from the iced coffee in his hand and cocked his hip. “Then the real fun starts.” 

In the bathroom, Cas slipped the thin material over his head, his chest starting to feel tight again. He made sure all the velcro was tight (he didn’t want it to slip before it was supposed to come off) and then walked out to the mirror where Dean stood waiting. 

“Looking good, Cas,” Dean said, one eyebrow quirked up as his eyes tracked over Cas- no, over Cas’ clothes. 

“What the hell are we doing?” Cas muttered, hoping it was quiet enough that the mic pack wouldn’t pick it up. There were no cameras in here, at least, thank God. 

Dean frowned. “What?” 

“I can’t- They’re making us strip, Dean,” he said pointedly, still keeping his voice a whisper. “In front of a bunch of strangers. In goddamn cowboy outfits. What the hell are we doing?” 

Dean chuckled a little then stepped forward and reached up, straightening the bolo tie around Cas’ neck. 

“We’re just having some fun. Remember why you’re here, man,” he added, before dropping a hand on Cas’ shoulder. He stayed there for a minute, their eyes meeting, and then he turned. 

“C’mon, let’s go,” he tossed over his shoulder, pushing open the door. 

“Let’s go,” Cas repeated, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. He couldn’t tell anymore if it was from nerves or-

He shook off the thought and followed Dean through the door. He was fine. They got this. 

The rest of the dance was even easier than the first half. Cas was starting to think he wasn’t going to make a total fool of himself when Jay turned off the music and spread his hands wide. 

“Right. So now, we just got to learn the stripping part of it.” 

Cas gulped, his eyes going wide. Jay pointed out the various releases on their clothing, tips for getting it off easily, and then left them to practice, his trained eyes watching them carefully. 

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Dean got the hang of it in like two seconds. The shirt came off and he whipped it in the air like a lasso before looking at Cas and blushing. Cas just stared back, eyes wide. 

Dean let the shirt fall to his side, his eyes still fixed on Cas, a curious expression on his face. And Cas, he couldn’t help but stare back.

Then, from behind them, Jay cleared his throat. 

Cas let his gaze slip slowly away from Dean and looked to Jay. His eyes were drifting back and forth between Dean and Cas, but after a second, his eyes landed permanently on Cas. “We need you to learn this too, Castiel. We only have about an hour until you guys need to be in hair and makeup.” 

“Makeup?” They both turned to look at Dean.

“Yeah,” Jay continued, “Just simple stuff, makes you look better on stage. Now, c’mon. Let’s finish up here.” 

Eventually, Cas got it. It wasn’t that difficult, the rip-away pants and shirt came right off. Dean’s eyes burned into him the whole time, and he pretended he didn’t notice. Pretended he didn’t see his eyes jerking away as soon as Cas looked up at him. 

He could do this. He was never going to make hundreds in tips but maybe it was enough for an audience of Bachelor superfans.

Hair and makeup didn’t take long, the producers pulled them away for another round of interviews, and then they were standing with the other guys backstage waiting for the audience to trickle in. 

A few of them were fidgeting nervously, but most of them were peaking past the wall, looking at where Lisa sat in the front row. 

They were going second. Right after Garth, who had pulled Naomi to the side and asked to go first. Still, Cas was glad they were getting it over with. Better to go now when his heart was still beating then in about twenty minutes when it had stopped completely. 

By the time Garth was waltzing out onto the stage, a grin that could be described nicely as goofy and more accurately as idiotic plastered to his face, Cas could barely think straight. 

A song Cas didn’t know started playing and Garth opened the buttons on his bachelor costume ever so slightly as he got into his routine. Next to him, Dean chuckled appreciatively and whispered, “Werewolves in London. Good choice.” 

Cas’ could only nod, the song became foggy and distant and the lights danced around him again. He felt his breathing pick up again and he looked down, blurry eyes making out his shaking hands. 

Shit. 

He didn’t know how much time passed. Didn’t notice himself swaying. Didn’t notice the camera guy getting closer to make sure he had a good shot. 

And then he was falling. 

The jerk of arms stopping his fall brought him back to the world, everything coming back into focus. Dean gripped his shoulders tightly and stood him up, pulling him away from the cameras, hiding at the back of the group. 

“Hey, man,” Dean said urgently, his hands tightening briefly before dropping entirely. “It’s okay.”

Cas gulped and silently cursed. Great. Panic attack on national TV and in front of De- Lisa--check. His Bachelorette Bucket List was going great. 

“I’m fine, Dean.” 

“No you’re not,” Dean shot back immediately. 

“It’s-” 

One of the P.A.'s Cas didn’t know tapped the back of his shoulder and he whirled around. 

“You guys are on in about thirty you need to-” 

“Give us a damn second,” Dean cut in. “Look at me.” 

Cas turned back to face him and took a deep breath. 

“You sure you’re good? We don’t have to do this.” 

Cas inhaled deeply again before letting it out. “Yes. I’m- I’ll be okay.” 

Dean met his eyes for what felt like another ten minutes before finally nodding, the concern slipping from his face. “Then let’s fucking do it.” 

He ignored the disapproving stare on the P.A.‘s face at his word-choice and led the way through the crowd and up the stairs. 

Cas followed him, eyes on Dean’s back, too shaken to look anywhere else. 

The music started up and they took the stage, the crowd going wild, Lisa in the front with a soft smile, her hands crossed over her legs as she leaned forward. 

He glanced at Dean just one more time, and then turned to face the crowd. 

Let’s fucking do this.