#he's wearing his POKER HAT

[gothoffspring]

step 1: Riley invites Monica over to impress her with his poker skills

step 2: Riley plays footsie with Monica the entire time, distracting himself and causing him to lose miserably

??????

step 3: profit (for Monica at least)

[its3nvy]

"Wear the hat, ride the cowboy" Billy the Kid

Summary: After drawing the wrong kind of attention at the saloon, Billy comes to your rescue. Having to pretend to be his for the night, which leads to a ‘wear the hat, ride the cowboy’ situation ;) 

Tags/warnings: mdni (18+), porn with no plot, angst, size kink, riding cock, overstimulation, fingering, breeding kink, creampie, unprotected sex, rough sex, dirty talk, slight knife kink

Note : This is my first time ever writing smut and I haven't edited it a lot so this should be fun. (Tell me if it's good or not pls)

tags: f!reader, smut

word count: 3.7k

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Curiosity led you to the local saloon one evening, where Billy often engaged in poker games. The air inside was thick with the smoky residue of cigars, and the occasional clinking of glasses underscored the distant melody of a forlorn piano. As you pushed through the creaking doors, your presence hung in the air, drawing the gaze of rough patrons whose eyes bore into you with a kind of familiarity you had never known. Unaccustomed to the bold gazes and suggestive comments that swirled around you like a threatening storm, you sought refuge at the bar. A man behind it was taking someone’s order.

You looked around, your eyes finally found Billy's familiar frame, surrounded by a haze of cigarette smoke, engaged in a high-stakes poker game.

“Hello, darlin’,” a drunken man stumbled toward you.

“Hello, sir,” you gave him a small smile, trying to avoid his intense stare.

He leaned against the bar to keep his balance. “Come on, darling, don’t be such a prude. Talk to me.” His hand reached up, attempting to caress your face.

From afar, you saw Billy, his eyes—usually mischievous and full of life—met yours with a fleeting recognition. Without uttering a word, he rose from his chair, his cowboy boots echoing a heavy cadence on the worn wooden floor.

The drunken man's intrusive advances persisted, his slurred words creating an uncomfortable tension. "Don’t play hard to get, honey. I can show you a good time," he insisted, his hand becoming more insistent. Ignoring the drunkard, you turned back to the bar, hoping for intervention. The man persisted, his persistence turning aggressive. As his hand encroached upon your personal space, a shadow fell over you. 

Billy's presence loomed, his gaze colder than the steel of his revolver. Without a word, he grabbed the man's hand, his grip firm and unyielding. “Leave her alone," Billy's voice cut through the clamor of the saloon, his words echoing with a subtle menace.

The tension escalated, a palpable undercurrent surging through the room. The patrons, sensing the imminent storm, shifted uneasily. Billy's eyes held yours, a silent reassurance amid the brewing chaos. The drunk man, now confronted by the notorious gunslinger, stumbled backward, a mixture of recognition and fear contorting his expression. With a final warning glare from Billy, he slinked away into the crowd.

Billy turned towards you, his eyes softening as if to assure you that the storm had passed. 

"What in the hell are ya doin’ here?", he murmured, his tone both gruff and concerned as he reached you, seizing your hand and guiding you to the quiet side of the room. "I needed to go out, Billy," you replied, your voice carrying a note of defiance and desperation.

He hissed, a trace of irritation etching lines across his rugged features. "You can’t. You gotta go home. These people here are dangerous," he warned.

"And you don’t think me leaving alone would be dangerous?" you shot back, your gaze a defiant challenge to the protective facade he wore like impenetrable armor.

"Shit," he conceded, his irritation mingling with a begrudging acceptance of your undeniable truth. "Alright, I’m finishing up my round, and then we can go," Billy relented, his tone an admission of defeat. "But you play along with me, ok? If they don’t think you're claimed, they'll see you as fair game," he said, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that cut through the smoky haze, demanding an unspoken oath.

“Ok,” you huffed out.

He pulled you towards his table with a rough yet oddly comforting grip, a silent acknowledgment that, for a fleeting moment, you were to be sheltered from the men surrounding you as long as you stayed with him. "Wait," he murmured, his hand lingering on yours. With a swift motion, he removed his hat, worn and weathered from a life on the precipice.

You extended your hand to stop him. "Billy, you can’t," you insisted, your voice barely more than a whisper, laden with the implications of his gesture. “You know what this means.”

"That’s the point," he declared, his crooked grin returning like a bittersweet promise of protection. As he placed his hat on your head, it became a proclamation, an unspoken claim made before the watchful eyes of everyone present, and a promise of a heated night that lingered in the air like an unspoken secret.

"Now, c’mere," he commanded, pulling you towards him as he settled into his chair, drawing you onto his lap. You bit on your lips, a mixture of anticipation and fear, the heat rising to your cheeks as the proximity between you tightened like a coiled spring. This was the first time Billy had been so close, and the magnetic pull of his presence ignited an unfamiliar fire within you.

He looked up at you as you bit your lips, his gaze a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken tension that hung thick in the air.

As he resumed his poker game, you felt his breath against your neck. "Pass me the whiskey, doll," he asked.

You leaned against the table, inadvertently pulling your hips tighter into his pelvis, sensing his hardness between you. His hands reached out against your hips, gripping you and keeping you still. "Careful," he warned against the shell of your ear, his breath raising goosebumps along your neck, a sensation that heightened the electrifying energy between you.

As you handed him the glass, he took a swig, and then, with a deliberate slowness, leaned down against the side of your neck, planting a lingering kiss. "Thank you, doll," his gravelly voice murmured, the aroma of whiskey lingering in the air.

Billy's fingers grazed lightly along your waist, sending a cascade of sensations through your body. His gaze met yours once more, a silent invitation lingering in his eyes. It was then that you became acutely aware of the speculative glances from the patrons, their curiosity fueled by the undeniable connection unfolding before them.

The weight of Billy's hat on your head felt like both a shield and a beacon, marking you as his amidst the prying eyes of the saloon.

The night passed on and as the final hand of poker concluded, Billy rose from his seat, still holding you close. "Wrapping it up for the night, boys. See ya tomorrow," he declared, his voice a mix of weariness and determination.

He grabbed your hand, guiding you out with a certain urgency. The saloon doors swung open, thrusting you back into the harsh glow of moonlight. As you stopped in front of his horse, he turned around and said, "What the hell were you thinking, coming here alone? You know how they treat women here."

His words cut through the night air, a mixture of concern and frustration etched on his rugged features. The distant sounds of revelry from the saloon formed a dissonant backdrop to the charged atmosphere between you.

You met his gaze, a swirl of emotions reflecting in his eyes. "I just wanted to have one free night, Billy. Just one," you replied, your voice carrying a note of desperation. Billy's jaw clenched, a silent acknowledgment of the dangers lurking in the shadows. "This ain't the place for that, especially not for someone like you," he muttered, his grip on your hand tightening as if to emphasize the point.

The weight of his words hung in the air, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The moonlight cast shadows across his face, revealing the hardened resolve etched into his expression. "I can't have you wandering into places like this, doll," he continued, a trace of vulnerability underlying his gruff tone. "It's too damn dangerous."

Billy sighed, a heavy exhale that seemed to release the tension in the air. "Let's get you home," he said, his voice softened. With a final glance back at the saloon, you moved towards his horse. As you approached, he placed his hands on your hips, lifting you onto the horse with a gentle yet firm touch. You instinctively grabbed his forearm for support, your eyes locking in a shared moment of intimacy. 

The ride home was a silent journey through the cool night air, the rhythmic hooves of the horse creating a steady cadence. You sat in front of Billy, the warmth of his body enveloping you, his strong arms encircling your waist as you traversed the dimly lit trails. 

As the horse navigated the uneven terrain, Billy's embrace tightened slightly, offering both stability and reassurance. His chin rested on your shoulder, his warm breath tickling your neck, and in that intimate proximity, the weight of your unspoken desires lingered like an invisible thread weaving through the darkness.

Arriving at your doorstep, Billy helped you dismount, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. Your eyes met, a complex tapestry of emotions woven between you. He spoke, his words a whisper carried away by the night breeze, "Be more careful, doll. This world ain't kind, especially to those with a heart as tender as yours." He placed his hand against your cheek, caressing it lovingly.

"Billy," you responded, the ache in your voice carrying a mixture of gratitude and longing. He placed a loving kiss on your forehead, his touch a hushed plea for silence. "Go to sleep, doll. I'll come by tomorrow morning," he whispered, giving you a kiss on the forehead, turning away.

"Billy, wait," an urgency surged within you, desperate to find a reason for him to stay. You took off your hat, intending to return it to him, a feeble attempt to anchor him in the moment. “Keep it. I prefer it on you,” he remarked, a bittersweet acknowledgment that stirred emotions too complex to unravel.

Locked in a gaze that spoke volumes, you inched toward him, a silent plea lingering in the air. As your fingers tightened around the hat, a palpable tension filled the space between you. His intense blue eyes held yours, revealing a tumult of unspoken struggles and desires. Your gaze shifted to his lips—slightly chapped yet irresistibly inviting. 

Closing the distance, you reached him, and, without hesitation, pressed your lips against his. The kiss was a desperate plea, an attempt to convey the emotions that words couldn't capture.

Billy's initial surprise melted into a shared passion, and for a moment, the world around you faded. His arms encircled you, pulling you close as if trying to etch the moment into his memory. As the intensity deepened, you let go of the hat, your hands finding their way to his jaw, pulling him even closer. He tasted your soft lips and felt your warm skin. He pulled away slightly, breath mingling with yours, lips lingering, an anguished pause in the silent night.

"Fuck, doll," he groaned, your foreheads leaning against one another, his hands gripping the fabric on your waist. You looked up into his eyes, witnessing the inner battle reflected in his gaze as he grappled with the decision to restrain himself or not.

You approached your lips to his cheek, giving him a slight peck, when you heard him whisper, "Fuck it." His lips crashed to yours, hungry, hot, and demanding, stealing your breath in a heated rush. His hand came up, cupping your jaw, angling your head to deepen the kiss as he slicked his tongue inside your mouth.

“Come, let’s go inside, yeah?” He asked. You nodded at him, as he gave you a quick kiss, ushering you inside, “good girl.” And in an instant, he’s moving toward you, wrapping his arms around your body and pressing you to his chest. You press your lips to his and moan at the taste of Whiskey. His tongue slides over yours in slow strokes that make your cheeks warm, but it’s when his teeth nip at your bottom lip that a whine escapes. 

His rough, calloused hands drop to the cusp of your neck, gripping your hair just tight enough to make you hiss. You arch into his touch as he starts to explore your body, mapping out every dip and curve. 

“Billy- Please… do something.” He moans a response into your neck as his lips slip down to leave love bites along the column of your throat. 

Eager to feel you, Billy tried to pull at the strings of your corset, but to no avail. It was too complicated to remove in the dark, and with the emotions aptly blinding him, Billy had no patience to try.

In the dark, you heard a flick of a knife, and you felt a cold tip of the blade against your skin before Billy’s voice comforted you, “Be a good girl and don’t move, ok?”

A rip ran through the air as Billy sliced your corset in half from the back. You stayed perfectly still, trusting him completely to cut the clothing off of you without harming you at all. The moment Billy had cut your corset, he dropped it to the floor and pulled your top off with it.

He immediately lets his hands drop to your breasts, nipples already pebbling from the cool air. He pinches and pulls at them for only a moment before he’s trailing kisses down your stomach.

Bilily stops just above your hip bones, “May I?” he asks, blue eyes peering up at you. “Yes. Billy, please.” You beg him, voice thick with desperation. He chuckles and then rubs his hand over your throbbing clit. He slides one, then two thick fingers into your dripping pussy. A whimper bubbles from your swollen lips as he pulls back to spit on your heat. His fingers curl, digits stretching and scissoring inside you. Your head feels like it’s spinning, arousal leaking from your cunt and down Billy’s fingers. 

Your hips are unable to escape his assault on your g-spot when he pins you down, and you let out a moan you hardly recognize as your own. “Shit, you’re so wet.” His teeth catch his bottom lip as he smiles down at your fucked-out form. 

Billy’s hand never slows, even as he grinds his palm into your poor clit. You cum not long after, waves of pleasure crashing over and drowning you in euphoria. Your body is trembling as you come back to Earth and Billy is there, watching you from between your thighs. He places a kiss on your sensitive clit before he stands back up, towering over you. 

“Please. Fuck me, Billy.” You say through heavy breaths. He feels his head spin at the sound of your voice. 

“Whatever you want, doll.” 

Billy lays you across the couch and crawls over you, leaning back to release his aching cock from the confines of his pants. Saliva pools in your mouth at the sight of him, pre-cum drips from his flushed, red tip.

He fists his cock at the sight of you below him, lips parted and breasts heaving. Billy leans his body over yours, trapping you between him and the cushions below you. You can feel the muscle covering his torso press against your tummy. He ruts his cock through your pussy, the head catching on your clit deliciously. You both moan at the feeling and link your fingers together. 

“Fuck, you’re so perfect. I’m gonna make you all mine”, Billy coos down at you, searching your face for any hesitance. You nod at him, earning you a keen smile and a quick kiss. “It’s gonna hurt, doll, I’m sorry.” Squeezing his hand, you hold your breath when he lines himself up with your entrance.

You gasp when his tip slips into you, already feeling like he’s split you in two. Salty tears start to well in your lash line at the burn of Billy’s cock stretching you out for the first time. He’s much bigger than you anticipated and you dig your nails into his skin. 

“I know, I know. Just breathe.” He tries his best to comfort you, gritting his teeth at the feeling of your cunt around him. His heart stings at the sight of you crying for reasons other than pleasure, but he can’t help it when his hips buck, pushing himself another inch deeper.

Billy knows he should feel guilty for liking the way you screw your eyes shut, the way your cunt flutters around him even though he’d worked you open already. He’s not even halfway inside you and your legs are trembling around his waist while he holds himself back from pushing in balls-deep. He can’t help but feel a sense of pride swell in his chest at the effect he has on your body. 

Billy’s hand leaves yours and drops to your clit, rubbing tight circles with his thumb. Your mouth opens into an “O” shape and your sloppy cunt grants him another inch.  He can feel the velvet of your walls drawing him deeper, euphoria building in your veins. With every circle drawn, Billy pushes in further and further until he’s finally buried to the hilt. He stills for a moment, letting your cock-drunk mind play catchup with your body. “I’m gonna move, is that ok, doll?”

He pulls out, making you whine at the empty sensation, then, he’s driving his hips forward again. You loop your arms around his neck as he attacks your insides. Any words you have die on your tongue as Billy sets a rough, passionate pace. His tan skin, covered in old and new scars, feels slick against yours as his cock splits your mind in half. You can feel Billy everywhere, you can taste him, touch him, smell him, see him. He’s completely overwhelmed your senses and given you nothing to think about other than him.

The air around you is humid and thick, the scent of sex swimming through it. Billy slips in and out of you with ease, the clear strings of your slick and his pre-cum coat your pussy lips like a gloss. You let your gaze fall on him, watching how his brows furrow with concentration while he molds your insides into the shape of him.

Billy lifts your hips in the air to get an angle that allows him to hit even deeper, pumping his cock into you so hard that the air is forced from your lungs. There’s no one else you could want, no one else who could ever make you feel like this. 

“Shit Billy. I’m so close.” You moan, a familiar warmth starting to coil in your tummy. He nods and slots his lips against yours for one final kiss. His tongue explores your mouth as his dick strikes your g-spot, sending you headfirst into bliss. You cum hard as every nerve in your body is set aflame. His hot, sticky cum floods your walls and leaks from around his cock. 

Silence lies thick in the air aside from your heavy breathing and the soft kisses you share. Billy leans back to peer down at where you’re connected and shakes his head at you. 

He picks you up and places you over his hips, leaning you back. “Can’t waste this, doll.” He tuts at you, gathering the cum leaking from your abused pussy on his tip and pushing it back in. Throwing an arm behind his head, a fucked-out grin crosses his features as you sink down on his cock, letting him rub against your most sensitive spots. A strangled moan sounds in the back of your throat as he slowly pushes back into the deepest parts of your cunt.

His tongue darts out to lick the sweat off of his cupid’s bow, large hands moving to slide down your hips to grab at the fat of your ass. He guides you up and down on him as you babble and cry.

“I’ve got you, doll.” His words send a shiver down your spine and you brace yourself on his broad shoulders. Your cunt flutters around him, “Fuck Billy’-” you cry out.

Billy groans at the sight of a white ring around his shaft, made from a mixture of his and your cum. “So tight… taking me so fuckin’ well.” He bucks his hips, tip grazing your g-spot just right, just enough to make your eyes roll up into your head. “C’mon, doll.”

He leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead, then captures your lips with his. He swallows every moan and hiccup as he pounds into you, only slowing when you clench impossibly tighter around him. Stars are dancing in your vision and pleasure is burning in your veins. You hear him swear again, he lets his head fall back onto the cushions and plants his boots flat on the floor. You nearly scream as he fucks back up into you. He’s growling something in your ear, but his words sound so far away. 

“Cum on my cock, doll. C’mon, do it. Do it for me.” Billy babbles in your ear as he loses his rhythm, now just slamming his hips into yours with all the force he could muster. Your arms are clinging to his neck and he has you trapped against him. White, hot pleasure hits you like a ton of bricks as you squirm on Billy’s lap. His teeth sink into your shoulder as he pumps his hot, sticky cum into your womb. 

He lays back on the couch, letting you rest against his chest.  With a tender touch, he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss on the top of your hair. His lips lingered for a moment. As he pulled back, his fingers began to stroke your hair slowly, each caress a testament to the unspoken passion that simmered between you.

“From now on, that hat stays on you, doll. Let everyone in town see you belong to me."

send me billy thoughts or requests pleaseee :)

[sh1-n0bu]

✿ 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙪𝙡 𝙩𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙖 𝙘𝙖𝙩 ���𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙥𝙩2 ✿

characters: penacony men x gn!reader

warnings: fluff, slight angst, poor attempt at comedy, slight spoilers for some character story and 2.2 penacony quest, injury and blood mention

notes: another popular demand! this time with more cat bois!!! part 1 can be found here! tho this can be read as its own part too. genshin boys ver is here!

art credit goes to Flambo_19 on twt!

you just can’t keep yourself away from taking in random strays that are an absolute shit to you huh, [name]?

his breed? orange. that’s it, that’s the breed, what more do you want me to say? jk but he’s still orange. american shorthair orange me thinks. friendly, adaptable, easygoing, playful, good with children and other pets — a perfect american shorthair orange

you first found the poor thing at the streets, hiding under a vehicle, too scared to come out or any approaching humans. sweet cat had a broken limb, holding the dangling paw to his chest as he pathetically meowed

thankfully, you managed to scoop the orange cat up into your arms, wrapped up in your coat before rushing him to the nearest vet

since then, nyanturine has made his progress to be your next addition to an ever growing collection of cats

a strangely crow like cat. nyanturine likes shiny, expensive things. shiny rocks? his. shiny clothes? his. material that glitters? his. expensive earrings and diamonds? his. expensive jewelries? his. everything shiny and expensive that the orange cat lays his eyes upon is his now. pretty please, [name] buy him that earring for him to play with?

out of every cats at home — you sure your home isn’t a daycare for cats? — nyanturine gets along the most with dr.nyatio and occasionally with nyelt. the orange and brown cats can be found chatting away, peacefully settled on the windowsill

not so surprisingly, nyanturine is chatty as every orange cats are, except he needs to get used to the human first before turning into a yapper. with you, it only took a week spent in your arms for nyanturine to get used to your presence

just sit him beside you on the table behind his own mini computer with one of his favorite shiny earrings laid before him while you do your work on your own computer and nyanturine will be chatting your ear off in a storm. though, his yapping sometimes tends to irritate the other cats. dr.nyatio being one of them as you watched the bigger cat jump into the table before smacking nyanturine over the head with his paw

you were pretty sure you witnessed an attempted homicide between cats that day…

surprisingly, nyanturine also likes games! card games, poker, monopoly, uno. don’t ask how but somehow you once got bested by your damn cat when nyanturine placed down +10 on you at uno. you nearly ended up behind bars if it weren’t for meow yuan’s big floofy body holding you down—

he will push all of the tokens in front of him towards the table with a meow. sometimes, you swear you can hear “all in!” in his meows but maybe that’s the ghosts in your home talking

out of every cats you housed and still do till this day, nyanturine has the most unique eyes. cyan blue on the inside fading out into a pinkish hue. when asking about it from the vets, all they could do was shrug and say it could perhaps be a very unique ocular albinism or dna mutation. either way, your cats are a fucking model

nyanturine loves the mini fedora hat you made for him as a joke. wears it nearly everyday, every time, anywhere unless he accidentally knocks it over when zooming around the house

a solid kitty if you can get behind the creepy gloving of his eyes in the dark and his tendency to win against you in every poker games

art credit goes to nasuka_gee on twt!

you first found dr.nyatio by… huh? whatchu mean you didn’t found him? you’re telling me he just waltzed his ass inside your home one day through the window and has been making himself one of the many feline bosses of the house just like that? you sure dr.nyatio isn’t anyone else’s cat? [name]? [name], answer me…

well… whatever floats your boat i guess…

the most sassiest out of all of the fucking cats and that is saying something because you literally have nyan heng and meow yuan

a bengal, me thinks. snow lynx type of marbled tan and brown bengal. a smart piece of shit and he knows it, always yapping your ears off about a certain topic. more specifically, anything to do with algorithm, geometry etc etc

but compared to nyanturine and meowhill, dr.nyatio only ever yaps about those topics and those topics only. oddly enough, he kind of reminds you of one of those annoying lecturers at your old university…

very very curious cat. what’s up there? why are you late? what did you bring? what’s inside your bag? why do you smell so different?

pause.

why do you smell so different, [name]? where have you been? who have you been with? why are you later than usual, [name]? [name] answer him. answer dr.nyatio right now before he loses his shit—

oddly likes bathing time compared to the other cats. though, dr.nyatio is a diva when it cones to taking his baths. the water must be lukewarm, not too full so when he sits in the bathtub, the water will be around his low chest area. the bath must have bubbles and those cute yellow ducks floating around or he will not step inside the bathroom

do you think of him as a low class cat? how dare you, [name]

yeah… safe to say that dr.nyatio spends more money on shampoo, hair treatment than you do

gets along with every cats actually. other than nyanturine. the two tend to scuffle sometimes. and sometimes, you can find dr.nyatio just yapping away to the other cats while he points at… an encyclopedia? since when and where did he drag that out from?

dr.nyatio has an odd hyper fixation and obsession with ancient greek things. anything related to them and the cat is not leaving the site or the front of the screen, patiently watching and listening to the documentary about ancient greek and its architectures and impact in the field of mathematics

once, you decided to bring him along to your local clay making club for shits and giggles, making a mini ionic order pillars and he fucking loved it. loves to sit in the middle of the curved placed pillars and have his pictures taken like a model

dr.nyatio also loves the cute cat helmet like thing you made for him from plastic diy materials. it works as something akin to a mask for him and the bengal loves wearing it whenever you have to step outside with him

once, one of your friends who came over at your home asked you why you named dr.nyatio that way

“is he a doctor or something? what field is his research then?” they asked, unknowingly opening a jar of worms upon themselves. you simply opened up dr.nyatio’s favorite encyclopedia in front of your friend as the bengal cat takes his place, starting to yap up a storm as the cat points to random parts of the book

after a good hour or two, your friend turned to you for help, quietly coming to regret their decision. dr.nyatio didn’t take that kindly, smacking your friend’s face back to focus on him with his soft paw before continuing

yep. doctor veritas nyatio, everyone

“meaw! [name], mrrp ammmeow mrrep mrrya! you will refer to me as doctor and doctor alone!”

art credit goes to Flambo_19 on twt!

a very demanding grey korat breed of cat, mr.meowday is

he isn’t much talkative nor is he much affectionate. but what meowday is, demanding and loves control. you once asked your local vet for advice after months of the grey korat telling you exactly how to make his food, which kibbles to buy etc etc and the vet simply reassured you with a “korat breed of cats tend to be a bit demanding and intelligent. they love to be in charge so don’t worry” and a pat on the back

yeah… you have yourself another demanding cat that loves to make you his human slave alongside dr.nyatio. don’t you think you have enough cats reigning over you in your own home now, [name]?

you adopted the poor thing from a shelter near your workplace when you heard the poor thing constantly crying out. when asking the shelter workers, they said that the cat tends to do that at random hours of the day, just calling out for attention from someone or a certain something

taking pity on the poor lonely korat sitting in the corner of his cage with his back to the world, you decided to adopt him, making yet another dumb decision

really loves sundays for that is one of the days that you have time to spend the whole day at home with the cats. and you also love to dub the last day of the week as ‘lazy day’ and therefore, you decided to name him after it. meowday, he was since then

still, even after months of living with you and the other cats, meowday still sits on the window sling, meowing out for someone or something as he wistfully stares out the window. poor cat… you’re still having some problem trying to understand what was the problem and why meowday would do that so you can at least comfort the poor thing

one day while you were showing your co-workers who loves cats as well of your cats and landed on meowday. seeing the grey, elegant korat, your co-worker asked over and over if that really was your cat

you nodded with a furrowed brows, finding it odd that your co-worker would ask such questions. until they whipped out their phone, scrolling through their gallery before showing you… an eerily similar korat

same shade of eyes, same pose, same elegant manner — you would nearly mistake it for your own cat if it weren’t for the slight shade of white grey of your co-worker’s cat fur

a korat as well. from the same animal shelter you adopted meowday too!

after careful consideration and a lot of talk, you two decided to let the two felines meet on the weekends to see if they are perhaps lost siblings, parents or anything along the lines

finally, the day arrives and your co-worker comes over. a carrying bag slung over their shoulder as they step inside. meowday could barely care for your human companion coming over, it happens all the time and he had grown used to the presence of visitors unlike some of the other cats

until he hears a soft meow that sounded eerily similar to his sister. whipping his head around, meowday nearly broke his paws due to his sudden rough landing from the window sling, practically zooming over before tackling the smaller korat to the floor

sad yet happy meows coming from meowday, grooming the other cats’ face with loud constant meows. you were pretty sure that your co-worker’s cat was meowday’s sibling now

ever since then, the grey korat constantly scratches at your feet, doing his utmost best to silently ask you to let him see his sister again, nearly everyday. please just allow him to see his sister, he had dearly missed her. please, he will be a good kitty! the best kitty in the house!

meowday could barely go a day without glooming if he doesn’t see his sister, and so you and your co-worker arranged a weekly meetings and a video call everyday to allow the siblings to meow to each other through the screen

art credit goes to Flambo_19 on twt!

is it a mini panther? is it a dog? no! it’s just your one of the most chillest cats, gallagnya

he’s a havana brown like nyelt— wait a minute, what do you mean he wasn’t a havan brown like nyelt? you sure you got it correctly? the fur sample? huh…?

“gallagnya is actually a bombay cat. brown bombay” you can hear the vet on the phone, your face immediately going pale at the news of what breed gallagnya truly has been all this time as the said cat stares at you with a “mhm. that’s right” face from the kitchen counter

why? what was the reason you were suddenly going pale you ask? you were so sure that gallagnya was another havana brown like nyelt and has been feeding him nyelt’s kibbles for havana brown. in simpler terms, you’ve been feeding gallagnya the wrong kibbles

very wrong kibbles

but don’t worry, gallagnya is a chill cat and he immediately forgave you with a lick to your forehead the next day you came home crying with a bunch of treats and the correct kibbles for the shaggy, brown cat

gallagnya isn’t exactly a mean cat but he enjoyed the look of jealousy and anger on the other cats’ face as you pampered him day in and out for giving him the wrong kibbles. the bombay cat secretly hoped that you spent a little bit longer without knowing his exact breed so you could pamper him more. eh, oh well

the main reason your vet had a hard time finding out exactly what breed he was is because bombay cats aren’t the most easiest to spot or find out. it’s a bit hard to detect them and their breed since they are a human bred cat breed

but at least you have another big cat! third biggest cat after lion like meow yuan and cheetah like nyepard. safe to say you feel safe as hell whenever you go out for a quick walk with your three big cats

another funny thing about the story between you and gallagnya is that… you genuinely don’t know where the fuck the large cat came from. did he follow you home? did he slip in through the open window one day and made himself home? who knows. not you

at least gallagnya is chill. and nice. gets along well with basically every cat except for mr.meowday— “WOOF!”

“eh, it’s probably just the neighbor’s dog going out for a walk in the hallways of the apartment—“

“WOOF!” before you could finish your little excuse for the barking you just heard, you feel the heavy big body of gallagnya pounce on top of you on the bed, effectively knocking the air out of your lungs

… great. not only do you have hundreds of cats inside your home, three of them being nearly as big as predator wildlife animals, you have to worry about the third biggest cat being a barker rather than a meower

when and where the fuck did gallagnya even learned to bark rather than meow anyways? eh, that’s a question for you to find out next morning. right now, you were too damn tired and your bed was a siren that you willingly gave yourself to

you did not found out the answer to that question the next morning. even the vets were weirded out by it since, although bombay cats are indeed seen as dog-like with their playful and friendly nature, they never cane across one that literally barked like a dog

well… at least you can scare people away with gallagnya’s barks…?

art credit goes to Hanres4 on twt!

the siamese mom in me wants to say that meowhill would be a siamese, but the logical brain in me is shouting TUXEDO CAT

and yes, meowhill is indeed a tuxedo cat. one that just won’t shut up and leave you alone

going to the bathroom? let him come along and get real political while lying on the bathroom rugs while you take a shit

leaving for the convenience store? just let him stay on your shoulder while he yaps your ears off about which seasoning to pick— no, screwubaBOO THE KOREAN SOY SAUCE TASTES BETTER ON BARBECUE!

staying home and trying to type up your work on the computer? you have a free proofreader for you who wouldn’t hesitate to meow your ears off and point at some of the things you wrote. he will even sit on your keyboard

due to his yapper nature, meowhill tends to irritate some of the cats. especially those who love their peace and quiet and staying silent

which is a huge surprise whenever you find the mischievous tuxedo cat constantly beside nyan heng, the poor black manx looking dreadful as he allows meowhill to yap his ears off. you did not wanted to get entangled nor did you go over and wanted to hear what meowhill was yapping about

meowhill also gets along with nyagenti! the two cats seem to share a past together as when you first brought meowhill home, the tuxedo cat went straight first to the elegant norweigan forest cat

ah right, speaking of bringing meowhill in…

you found the poor thing with a rotted paws and bad burn wounds. poor little thing was burnt so badly it was hard to tell the color of his fur and he kept yowling in pain when you wrapped your coat around him to rush him to the nearest vet

sadly, his front two legs were badly broken and injured and had no way of recovering. and so, the vets had no other choice but to put him under anesthetic to cut off his front two legs and replace them with prosthetics

due to the nature of his injuries, meowhill required a lot of your and the other cats’ attention. recovering from losing both of his front legs and the nasty burn wounds is a long journey and meowhill needed the support from his new human friend and fellow felines

after a long and sometimes painful 2 months, meowhill had made a full recovery! the tuxedo cat’s fur grew back and he had gotten used to walking and sprinting on his prosthetic legs. you never realized how much of an energetic cat he was until you broke the news that he made a full recovery

though, like meowday, meowhill has a slight problem of constantly sitting on the window sling and meowing out the window. why? you didn’t know

is very protective of little nyanqing. you can find the tuxedo constantly nagging meow yuan and stealing meow yuan’s little cub away from him. holding the tiny munchkin by his scruff and taking him away to dote on the little cream cat somewhere in the house

it wasn’t until you took the tuxedo cat out for a shopping in the pet essentials store as a congratulations for making full recovery and the tuxedo immediately latched onto a tiny, white kitten plush did you connect the dots

poor thing had a kitten before…

you bought the white kitten plush for him of course. you don’t have the heart to wrench it away from him

making a trip back to where you originally found meowhill, you couldn’t find anything much other than an old, burnt, red scarf. you made an exact same replica of the mini scarf in secret and gave it to meowhill for his birthday gift, wrapping the soft silk around his neck snuggly before wrapping the same scarf around the plushie

ever since then, meowhill has been deathly clingy with you and the plushie. there isn’t a single day or night where you won’t see meowhill without the white plushie, grooming it, cuddling with it and taking it with him by the scruff of the kitten plushie

art credit goes to helen_zzhao on ig!

an elegant norweigan forest cat! is his fur, brown? burgundy? red? no one knows!

nyagenti is such a beautiful cat that he competes with meow yuan in their beauty level whenever you take them out on a walk. everyone wants to pet the elegant kitties and it doesn’t help that meow yuan and nyagenti are both such gentle kitties

gets along with every cats! anyone! your friends that came over for a game night, the sitters when you need to be away for a few days of business trip, the neighbors — everyone! nyagenti has no enemies

out of everyone, nyagenti gets along best with nyelt, nyan heng and meowhill. meowhill and nyagenti used to share a past it seemed as the two cats hit it off right away while the norweigan forest cat got used to the presence of nyan heng and nyelt very quickly

tends to yap sometimes — more like pray to someone or something — but isn’t as bad as meowhill or nyaturine

doesn’t really mind bath times but he prefers grooming more than bath times. he has a beautiful long fur and they’re very dense and thick so it takes the whole day for him to finally become dry so, please let’s just settle on grooming? he can bring over the brushes for you!

a very big gift giver! shiny jewels, pretty leaves that just fell, nice shaped rocks, cockroaches— nope. nuh-uh. you are NOT getting cockroaches as a gift even though the thought is swee— OH MY GOD HE DROPPED THE COCKROACH ON YOUR BED!!!1!1!

yeah… your friend looks at you as if you’ve finally lost your mind when they came over one day and saw hundreds of rat poisons, bug and insect killing sprays just racked on your shelf like you’re gonna sell them. in return you simply deadpanned back and pointed at nyagenti who already had another cockroach in his mouth

how did you ended up having nyagenti? who knows. at this point you gave up on trying to keep track of how, when, where you got your cats from. he probably just made himself known in your house one day and you simply accepted the sign from cat distribution system no.195826592649

such a gentlemanly cat. you joke that he can kiss the back of your hand to the guests and guess what? one day, nyagenti actually did do that. the look on the guest’s face will forever live rent free in your mind

really likes red roses for some reason. thankfully, roses aren’t toxic to cats unlike some other flowers such as lily, daffodil, hyacinths but nyagenti’s love for red roses nearly borderlines on obsession in a sense

when asking the vet if there could be any reason or explanation for this, they simply patted your back, told you that you had a tendency to attract weird cats and shooed you out. not fully, but they lowkey did that and said “roses have a nice scent that tends to attract cats or dogs. they might end up taking a bite from the flower but it isn’t poisonous or toxic, so no need to worry”

still, you’re getting tired of constantly living with red rose petals thrown everywhere in your house. so much so you have gotten used to it and just decided to leave it be. if your friend comes over and sees the rose petals as something romantical, you simply shove nyagenti into their faces

unlike the other cats, nyagenti isn’t the most clingy or affectionate cat. though, that isn’t to say he is cold and distant, he does love you! but he just shows it in small ways and in quiet manners

bringing over his brush for you to help him groom his beautiful thick fur, waking you up gently in the morning with soft meows and gentle licks, even knowing to turn on the AC on a warm temperature after your shower because you always come out shivering

and he is definitely the one who leaves the fresh red roses on your bedside nightstand every morning you wake up

[a-punchline-on-duct-tape]

things i noticed on my re-read:

- ponyboy has “almost—red hair.”

- johnny can’t say “boo to a goose.”

- ponyboy owes johnny 150$ from poker while they were in the church

- just a HILARIOUS quote “sent from heaven? had he gotten a good look at dallas?” ponyboy micheal curtis is hilarious and i don’t wanna hear anything else

- ponyboy isn’t like his parents, but his brothers are

- the curtis and shepard gang have a weird whistle that means “who’s there?” and people don’t talk about it enough

- dally called ponyboy “sleeping beauty.”

- soda’s letter to ponyboy had so many spelling and grammatical mistakes.

- dally had stubble when he went to get ponyboy and johnny “a stubble of colorless beard.”

- johnny’s crazy about drag races.

- dally thinks everything was cherry’s fault.

- dally has a cousin that lives in the area of the church, and told him it’d make a good hiding spot.

- johnny has a “deathly fear of cops.”

- jerry was too fat to climb through the church’s window.

- johnny was having fun in the church.

- soda wouldn’t quit messing with the reporters, he stole their hats and cameras, and even grabbed a cops gun.

- if johnny survived, he would’ve been crippled.

- two-bit’s mom said they should lock the door because of burglars, but darry just flexed his arms in response.

- two-bit was cleaning eggs off the floor after he knocked them off ponyboy’s pan.

- johnny would’ve been charged with manslaughter.

- soda went into darry’s closet to grab his jeans, and steve followed him in. apparently, “in a second, there was the general racket of a pillow fight.”

- two-bit’s mom is just like two-bit, except she isn’t lazy.

- randy’s thinking of leaving town.

- johnny and his mom look exactly the same, with black hair and big black eyes.

- the only difference is johnny has “fearful and sensitive” eyes, while her’s are “cheap and hard.”

- dallas looked out the window instead of at two-bit and ponyboy when he asked about johnny

- cherry had her hair up and she was wearing a ski jacket when she went to go meet the greasers.

- tim shepard has curly black hair and “smoldering” dark-blue eyes. he also has a scar from temple to chin because a “tramp” hit him with a broken soda bottle.

- tim accidentally stepped on ponyboy during the rumble.

- all johnny had ever wanted was for dallas to be proud of him.

- bob had the same smile as soda.

- greasers don’t eat in the school cafeteria.

- curly fell off from a telephone poll and he broke his arm. the face curly made was the same as sodapop’s when darry and ponyboy were fighting.

- when ponyboy wrote his theme, it didn’t hurt to think about johnny and dally.

[mizu0xox0]

Guitarist! Aventurine whose your dearest boyfriend that enjoys pissing you off while in between breaks during recording sessions (he drags you to the studio with him at times)

Guitarist! Aventurine who blows a kiss to you during a concert if he spots you in the crowd and he knows that you know that kiss is meant for you and you only

Guitarist! Aventurine who throws some poker chips or coins into the crowd at the end of shows and of course he makes sure you have one by giving one to you personally before the show (his band mate Ratio has to drag him backstage before he throws more and one of the coins gives someone a concussion)

Guitarist! Aventurine who wears the necklace you gave him during a date as a good luck charm for every show and you bet he kisses it before the show if he feels nervous

Guitarist! Aventurine who definitely uses the guitar pick you got for him as a gift (you saw him using a poker chip and you decided to get him a proper guitar pick, more like he has a bunch of guitar picks but used a coin to piss off Ratio and Sunday)

Guitarist! Aventurine who has a few solo songs and dedicated at least one of them to you

Guitarist! Aventurine who is happy when he sees you getting along with his band mates (The band consists of Robin, Gallagher, Ratio and Firefly with Sunday as their manager)

Guitarist! Aventurine who definitely brags about you being his significant other just to annoy Ratio

Guitarist! Aventurine who would most definitely fold if he saw you wearing his band clothes

Guitarist! Aventurine who has given you his hat that he wears for performances at least once or twice and sometimes if you're lucky his sunglasses as well

Guitarist! Aventurine who has a pair of matching earrings and he wears one of the pair while you have the other

Guitarist! Aventurine who has definitely nearly let slip that he's in a relationship in interviews which usually leads to Ratio hitting him on the head while Robin continues with the talking

Guitarist! Aventurine who definitely bets on how many people will be at the show before it starts and Robin has to call you in before he starts betting like crazy

Guitarist! Aventurine who would literally die on the spot if you own any merch of him doesn't matter if it's a small keychain or an album

Guitarist! Aventurine who always finishes the food that you pack for him even if it's something as simple as microwaveable food from the convenience store

[phfenomena]

❝playing a dangerous game.❞ || william h. bonney x f!reader

inspired by playing dangerous by lana del rey <33

| WARNINGS- daddy issues (yikes), kissing, unhealthy amounts of the color pink, mentions of getting shot, small suicidal thoughts

billy the kid x reader fluff

(divider by @dollienini)

she was as pure as snow, untouched by man, not yet trampled or turned into slush. her father sought to that daily, to ensure his daughter was ‘safe’. but safe doesn’t mean loved. she got her loving from outside sources, like maple spouts in the woods, going out with her girls, or in this case, the loving lap of an outlaw.

she’s sitting on his right thigh while the outlaw, named billy, is continuing his game of poker. a game she’ll never understand, her father deemed that an unnecessary topic for a lady to learn. but what did he even deem?

she’s giggling and offering her thanks to every compliment that floats her way, she can’t outrun them. they’ll always find her in a frilly pink dress. the pit in her stomach feels as if every compliment and disdainful comment adds ten pounds, until she’s swallowed up and feels like a piece of meat.

but billy wouldn’t let that happen. what’s different about billy is that he cares, he cares if she’s uncomfortable, he cares when she’s upset over her overbearing father, and he even wills himself to care when she complains about something that would never bother him. her champagne problems.

she’s sitting on her blush pink bedspread and fidgeting with whatever laid on her shelf. she was grounded, again, for coming home after sunset. billy and her simply lost track of time, but he’d never pay for it. right as she begins to spiral into the boredom and weigh the merits of suicide, a small tap against her window reaches her ears.

her face lights up at the noise and she rushes to unlock her window and swing it open. her room was on the ground floor but it was still a jump for him, his long legs stepping in as quietly as possible. her arms found purchase around his waist as she lightly jumped up and down. “billy! i was gettin’ so damn bored. my father grounded me again so i’m stuck here.” he sucked on his teeth and set his hat down on your desk before taking a seat on your bed and laying back.

“his mistake, leavin’ his pretty daughter alone with the maids while he’s out shooting my friends? better hope’d i’m not next on his list.” his voice is honey to your ears, making you skin feel warmer and leaving your stomach fluttering. it was bound to happen whenever he was around.

she sat next to him and their thighs touched before she realized how gruesomely underdressed she was. in only a sheer sleeping gown with her thin robe, she panicked. he’d only seen her in her full gowns. covered head to toe, yet here she was in front of him. he wasn’t even looking at her, his eyes closed and his head faced towards the ceiling.

“i tried convincing him that it’s not the sheriffs job to chase after you, better save him the face when you get away.” her voice is small while she studies his outfit. it’s different than usual, he was wearing a different shirt. and his boots were free of the mud and caked manure. did he clean up for her? he hummed an agreement and chuckled at her comment.

“did you…did you clean up to come see me, billy?” she says in a teasing tone while poking his shoulder. he covers his face and groans rolling away from her as she laughs and pulls him back. he uncovers his eyes and looks up at her. she just looks so pretty and clean. he’s almost scared he’ll break her- as if she’s porcelain.

she takes his hand in hers and soothingly rubs her thumb back and forth. “that’s really sweet that you cleaned up. adorable, actually.” there it is again, she says something like that and his stomach is doing flips. “well, they do call me the sweetest man in the west for a reason.” he manages to sound confident but internally he might as well as died.

she lays down next to him and props her head up on her hand. god, the way her hair falls, the way the candles behind her make her look like some biblical figure, and the way she somehow always manages to get a laugh out of him.

“i know you’re scared of my father and all but i really like spending time with you, billy. you’re different from other men i’ve known. you don’t make me feel like i’m heading for the butcher. you make me feel really happy.” she whispers out, acting as if she raised her voice he might disappear.

he ignores the ‘other men i’ve known’ to cease the bubbling jealousy inside of his chest. he props his head up the same way as her until they’re eye-to-eye. his free hand goes to fiddle with the lace of her robe as he’s trying to will himself to look into her eyes, like she’s a prettier medusa.

“you’re playing a dangerous game, angel. troubles gonna follow where i go. but i have loved every second i’ve spent with you and i’d like them to never end. my life isn’t safe for you though, you’ll get hurt and it’ll probably drive me to murder.” he jokes at the end but his words still soaked into herskin like a warm brandy.

she sits up and leans her face into his, gently meeting his lips. it was only for a second, but she was on fire. his hand reaches the back of her, braided and curled as usual, and pushes her lips back onto his. his hands cupping the sides of her face. so gentle. like a man should be.

she pulls the hem of her dress up and moves to straddle him, not breaking the kiss, which is heating up and he’s beginning to kiss down her neck when her door flys open “miss, do you have any-” her maid is stood in the door with a look of shock and the tomatoes she was previously holding ended up on the floor.

the girl scrambled up and grabbed the maids shoulders “don’t tell father about this and i swear to god i will do your work for a week, i’ll even pay you just please, please, do not tell father.” the maid nods slowly and picks up the tomatoes. a small smile playing at her lips.

billy’s covering his face and she was about to comfort him but he started laughing. genuinely clutching his stomach laughing, and she joined him. she sank to her knees on the floor and just laughed. “do you think she’ll really make you do her work for a week?” he managed to wheeze out. she holds her head in her hands and nods “oh, definitely! she never wants to work anyways.”

they were gravely embarrassed and her father will definitely find out, but at the end of the day, it’s always billy.

[sakuralovespossums]

Imagine finding a stinky stray cat outside and decide to take it home and keep it as a pet, only to wake up the next morning to find some random ass (but handsome) man cuddling next to you where your cat used to be.

Turns out you ended up adopting a cat/human hybrid that can switch from cat to human whenever he wants. Oh and his names is Dazai apparently.

He never leaves you alone for more than half a minute.

Always rubbing his face against yours.

Sometimes he suddenly bites you then acts all innocent about it.

His loud purring follows you wherever you go.

You are his favorite bed/seat.

Brings dead animals or canned crab meat to you as a gift in his cat form, wearing a proud grin.

Knocks over everything in your house just to get your attention. Nothing is safe.

He tends to put himself in all kinds of dangerous positions and you have to scramble to catch him in time before he seriously hurts/kills himself. You give him an angry/worried look while he just tilts his head and gives his typical poker face.

You’ll sometimes wake up at night to see him just…….stare at you.

Has beef with a fedora hat wearing chihuahua for some reason. Absolutely hates rats and doves.

[writefightandflightclub]

Blurb request?

What if you stole Santiago's favorite hat, and he caught you wearing it, very casual, nothing to see here, nothing at all.

Make you mine: Santiago “Pope” Garcia x GN!reader

Thanks so much for sending this, Rally! 🧡☺️ I wrote a hat-based thing with Frankie x reader, but I gave this a bash too as I love the concept with Santiago (my beloved) too! I hope you like it!

Warnings: fluff, steam, lots of mentions of erections, cum kink sorta (brief), light-hearted. 🧢 🍆

A hard swallow trails down Santiago’s neck as he clocks you. Wearing his hat.

He’s arrested by the sight of you, an instant flare of heat blooming across his skin as he realises, in no time at all, that he likes it. Likes seeing you in something of his. Or more so, looking like you’re his by association.

The attached and very intrusive thought is powerful and sudden on the heels of that realisation.

He’d love to see how you’d look wearing his hat and nothing else.

He quirks a brow in interest. He didn’t know that, specifically, would do it for him, but in fairness, he’s pretty sure you are the common denominator here. With you, he’s always discovering new ways that you turn him on.

Shame he can’t act on it though. You and he have been flirting back and forth, sure. But, you’d told him, not long after you’d met that… things were complicated for you. You and him? Maybe there was an instant spark, but you’d been clear the two of you would be nothing outside of friends.

So, he tries to compose himself as you walk over to him. A glass in each hand - one for him. “Thank you,” he smiles smoothly, clinking his glass with yours in a “cheers”.

The other boys have retired inside, after a poker night out on the deck. But you and he have lingered. For some air.

He lets his gaze linger on you, confident enough to drink you in for a stretched moment, your coy gaze even more alluring than usual from beneath the brim of his hat. He tries his best to ignore the blood thudding to his crotch. But you make that difficult to do - no-one else could ever.

“I’m cosplaying you.” You tease, brazenly acknowledging your blatant and unforgivable theft. “Pass me a stick of Wrigleys, Santi? It’ll really up my authenticity.”

He chuckles. Unable to take his eyes off of your bright smile. Your gaze flits gently over his face in return. Lingers on the creases radiating out around his eyes. Dips to his mouth. It makes him self-conscious - which he isn’t used to. Then again, he’s never met anyone who has quite the effect on him that you do.

He perches himself on top of the wooden porch rail. Gestures for you to join him and you seat yourself there too, body angled in towards him.

He can’t help it now. Looks up at his cap perched on your pretty head. He spreads his thighs a little to accommodate his growing bulge between his legs. “-You know. If any of the boys touched my hat…”

“Oh, I know,” you pout comically, shaking your head side-to-side. “Dead to you.” So you know his hat is famously off-limits then? In that case, either you must have put together that he’s a soft-touch for you; or, you’re trying to provoke him. But hey. He doesn’t exactly mind either option. “So.” You take a casual sip of your drink, your eyes flashing with mischief from over the brim. “The boys would be in for it. But what will my punishment be?”

Santiago takes a deep, steadying breath he dearly hopes is subtle as the bulge between his legs grows uncomfortably swollen, pressing up against the seam of his jeans in a way that makes his eyes prick with tears.

Fuck, he doesn’t normally have this much trouble controlling himself; but there’s something about you. Lord knows, he’s trying to keep his internal monologue clean but all he can think is: mine.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

Undoubtedly, he can think of a few (hundred) ways he could “discipline” you, if that’s what you’re into. His palm itches where it rests against his thigh, becoming suddenly tacky.

“Well. First of all. Here,” he offers, pulling a pack of gum from his pocket. “You’re not really nailing ‘me’ yet. Needs more work.”

Nailing him? Fuck, that’s an unfortunate choice of words when he’s trying to take his mind off of ravaging you.

“No?”

“Not seeing the resemblance, cariño.”

“Well. That checks out.” You tug performatively on the brim of his cap as though you know exactly what you’re doing to him, actually. “I am a hell of a lot cuter.”

Fuck, you’re not wrong. You’re fucking adorable.

You take a piece of the offered gum, beginning to chew rather obnoxiously on it. “How about now?”

An easy laugh bobs in his neck. “Holy shit. Now it’s like looking in a mirror.”

You slide closer to him, shimmying yourself along the porch rail. An urgent heat prickles at his skin. Your proximity slips a warm snake down his spine.

“So, you approve, Santi?” Santiago could swear your voice has taken on a lusty quality. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking on his part. “You like me wearing your hat?”

He almost chokes on his masking swig of his drink. Christ, if you only knew how much he approves. If you could see the sordid images playing on a loop in his head right now? Well, you’d probably throw your drink in his face, to be honest. Actually - he could do with it, to cool off. Maybe he can pour his own drink over himself if things get really dire.

“You think Frankie’s cap would suit me too? Or do I look better in yours?”

Mine. Mine. Mine.

Even the drum of his heartbeat feels like it’s trying to claim you. Trying to bust out of his chest to reach out for you.

Fuck. Are you trying to kill him? He doesn’t have a gasket, but he’s pretty sure he’s about to blow one all the same. “You know you look good,” he assures huskily, voice hollowed out by want, though still trying his damn best to toe the line.

Friends. You don’t want him to do the things he’s doing to you in his head right now. Right?

You smirk, looking all too pleased with yourself before taking a swig of your drink. His gaze is fixated on you as you wrap your plush lips around the mouth of the bottle, your fleet of pink tongue poking into the rim. The image certainly is… inspiring.

Fuck, he’s sweating. Swipes the back off his hand across his forehead, catching the moisture gathering inexplicably at his temples.

Then, to his horror, you stand, slinking towards him and slotting your hips in between his spread thighs. You crane around his form, careful that the brim of his own hat doesn’t poke his eyes out, and you dip your plush mouth towards this shell of his ear. Your whisper beds down right under his skin. “How do you think I’d look wearing this and nothing else, Santi? Would I look like I was…yours?”

Wearing my hat. Wearing my hat. Wearing my cum.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

Santiago’s brain fully short circuits. He blinks dumbly at you, mouth slightly agape, as you simply look on in amusement, biting down on your lip.

It’s not like he doesn’t want to jump at the chance to find out, but…

He sniffs. Shoots for non-chalant and doesn’t pull it off. “I thought we… I thought. Just friends?”

“Santiago,” you purr. “I stole your hat. Catch-up.”

Catch-up? Holy shit. Maybe he’d have a clue what you were up to if he could think straight. His erection is straining against his pants so hard now he has to shift his hands to cover it. Has to bite back a strangled whimper at the painful pinch.

Your mouth twitches around a delicious self-satisfied smirk as you clock the state he’s in. You giggle, brazenly eyeing his bulge with interest. “Benny told me this might do the trick.”

Santiago’s eyes tighten then. He pouts up at you, eyes twinkling, almost wistful. “Honey.” He lifts the hat from off of your head, setting it down on his own instead. “You? You don’t need any tricks.”

“No?”

Fuck, the way you’re both so devious and so shy at the same time is killing him. “Nuh uh. I’ve wanted you for a long time. You’re gorgeous.”

He boxes you in a little more tightly with his sturdy thighs. Slips his hands on to your waist. Your breath hitches, and he likes the fact he’s finally managing to turn the tables. He dips his mouth towards you, and you manoeuvre around the brim of his cap until your mouth is a whisper away from his kiss. “Wait,” you urge. “I have gum.”

He can’t help but laugh - a resonant chuckle shucking in his throat- as you take a moment to toss it aside, and then he’s just looking at you again. Gaze flitting softly over your face. Arms drawing you close to him once more until his lips brush yours. The contact sends tingles all the way down to his toes; he’s waited so long for this.

He deepens the kiss, soft and more tentative than he’d usually pitch it, his tongue probing into your mouth, but you return his growing fervour. Your palms brace against his sturdy thighs, and he swallows the smooth moan which blooms from your mouth as he clasps you to him.

You pull back for air, looking slightly giddy, and you survey him, a cheeky, devilish glint in your eyes. “You know. You look really fucking good in my hat, Santiago.” Your dark, teasing voice is like honey poured into his middle.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You look like you’re mine.”

He shucks air from between his teeth in surprise, his face splitting into a lopsided, awed smile. His eyes turn dark with hunger, pupils eating away at warm umber.

He is. He is yours, if you want him.

He decides then, that he can push this a little further. You seem keen - and Lord knows he is. And so, with a knowing, playful smirk, he dips his lips forward towards the shell of your ear. Whispers to you. “So, how about I wear this and nothing else for you?”

You visibly shiver as his words wind their way into you, your smooth facade cracking apart. “Santiago. Fuck. Are you trying to kill me?”

With his erection continuing to throb against the seam of his pants, he really thinks it’s the other way around.

“No,” he promises. “Only trying to make you mine.”

Mine. Mine. Mine.

That’s all he’s wanted since he met you.

He devours your mouth in another hungry kiss, tongue shoving against yours, opening you up. Stubble raking over your skin.

And, before your delicious kiss knocks every other thought - and word and concept - right out of his head, he logs the fact he definitely owes Benny a favour.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

He always wanted to be more than friends.

[vampire-kiing]

The winner is Huskerdust!

Angel once bought a nice new pretty lingerie for only Husk to see him in. He was so happy when Husk did see him in it and really liked it, till when Angel told him to "take it off" Husk used his claws and ripped it off. That night ended in no sex, crying, and lots of apology cuddling (Angel forgave him, eventually)

Husk teaches Angel most poker then Angel tried to get him to play strip poker, he eventually gave in but Husk made sure Angel lost (Angel would have been more upset but the site of Husk with only this hat covering his dick was a half win)

Angel loves how big Husk's hands (or paws) are compared to his more slender hands (his favorite part being husk can hold two of his in one paw)

Husk's home screen is Angel smiling well playing with Nuggs, Angel's home screen is Husk sleeping with Fat Nuggs (there happy parents)

Angel once gave Husk catnip to see what would happen, Husk rolled around on the carpet in the living room for three hours and Angel had to hide him from Alastor (Alastor 100% new but had a good laugh so didn't say anything)

Husk rubs Angel wrists with aloe vera when he comes back from work with rope burns

Angel doesn't wear anything sexy to bed he actually wear a old big pink sweater he's had since forever and Husk thinks he looks amazing in it

[gtgbabie0]

hellooooo🥰 first time requester here!!! (let me know if i am not doing anything right for future reference!! :) ) i loved your cowboy! remus lupin x preachers daughter! reader. was curious if you could do a continuation??? maybe seeing her at the saloon or in a public place??? just a thought! thank u so much:))

-Cowboy!Remus Lupin x reader

{Seeing the preacher’s daughter in the saloon was the last thing Remus expected, although he won’t be complaining.}

This is perfect, thank you so much for requesting. Enjoy lovelies💕

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The oil lamps cast a low moody light through the saloon, the glasses clinking and the patrons sharing a laugh or two whilst they play poker. It’s relatively quiet for a Friday, with most ranch owners taking advantage of the extra light the summer brings.

Remus is sitting at one of the tables with his hat pulled down low. One of the men opposite hands out some cards as Remus pushes a couple of coins and a handgun onto the table, his offer makes the rest of the men at the table share a couple of smirks.

Then the Saloon doors swing open, at first he doesn’t think anything of it just figuring that the general store owner from across the street had closed early. Then he hears Lily Evans’ voice followed by your giggle and he damn near falls off his chair in shock.

The rest of the men in the Saloon also share confused looks, they all know your father. The proud man who gives daily sermons, dedicating himself to spreading the word of God. What's his daughter doing stumbling in here?

Remus tips his hat up, looking under the edge of it and over in your direction. He smirks proudly, not quite believing that you dared to venture out because he knows for a fact your father was more of the overprotective type, and with that comes his strictness.

He keeps a watchful eye on you, shooting death glares at anyone who gets a little too close to comfort as you take your seat at the bar. Of course, you’re in a world of your own, completely oblivious to the cowboy who sits at the back table.

Remus can hardly pay attention to the game of poker that he’s stuck in. He’s far too distracted by the way you’re perched up on that stool and how the dress you’re wearing hugs at your body. You’re absolutely angelic, the warm light that dusts against your skin, and that sweet giggle of yours only proves this to him.

He wins by pure luck with a royal flush. Claiming the winnings that were piled up on the table with a cocky tone as he gives them a, “Thank you, gentlemen,” before walking over to where you’re sitting at the bar.

A hand against your lower back makes you jump, taking you out of your conversation with Lily as you let out a gasp. “Easy there Darlin’ s’just me.” Remus drawls, leaning against the wooden bar, his elbow propping up against the surface.

You look over to him with bright eyes, sparkling with excitement as you watch him order a whiskey. “What’re you doing here?” You ask him with a certain air of giddiness in your tone.

Remus knocks back his dark liquid with a low groan, placing his hat down on the bar before looking down at you, his eyebrows raised slightly in amusement.

“Could ask you the same gorgeous.” He smirks, the back of his fingers brushing against your warm cheek as he admires your pretty face.

You idly trail your fingertips along the rim of your whiskey glass with a shy smile, glancing down at your hands as he tucks your hair behind your ear. “Just stopping in for a drink with Lily-” You cut yourself off as you glance behind you, noticing that she had disappeared off to speak to Mary.

Remus hums softly, caressing your jaw with his thumb as he tilts your head back over to look up at him once again. “Does your Pa know?” He asks with a sly smirk when you shake your head ‘no’

With that he tuts teasingly, the roughness of his palm against your soft cheek sends a shiver down your spine and you can’t help but shy away from him ever so slightly.

“Darlin’ you tryin’ to give your old man a heart attack?” He chuckles lowly, his hand falling to rest against your hip.

He watches as you pout, the way your eyebrows furrow together. A huff escapes your lips and he bites his tongue, keeping his teasing words to himself with a smirk that teeters against his lips.

“I don’t need his permission to go out for a drink.” You tell him, taking a sip of your whiskey with a slight grimace on your face. That gets him, watching the disgust twist through your expression, he can’t stop himself from chuckling into his palm.

Remus leans down slightly, pressing a kiss against your forehead. He lets his lips linger for just a moment before pulling back as the bartender pushes another glass over to him.

“Nah you don’t, just gotta be careful baby.” He says, his expression softening slightly. He puts his hat down upon your head, tilting your chin upwards to look at him.

He quickly knocks back his second glass, his eyes meeting yours as his thumb rests against your chin. “My girl…” he whispers under his breath, his hand falling to gently fiddle with your cross necklace.

“I’m careful, always am.” You tell him, fixing his hat to sit comfortably on your head as he pays for yours and his drinks before you can even start to complain.

He nods in acknowledgement, but he also knows that won’t stop your father from marching his way into town to get you, he’d save you from that embarrassment.

“Come on sweetheart, let’s get ya home.” He says, relief washing over him you give him a soft nod. Thankful that you’re not going to fight him on it, you understand how difficult your father can be at times.

The sun had completely gone down, making space for the moon and stars. Remus guides you out of the smokey Saloon with a hand against the small of your back, helping you up to saddle his horse.

He takes you home as promised, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips as you place his hat back onto his head. He doesn’t leave until he knows you’re in the safety of your home, an odd sense of longing swarming his stomach as he rides off.

One day he’d save up enough money to buy some land and get a house… first he has to get enough courage to ask for your father’s blessing.

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-Art by @/sophithil on twt

[milliesfishes]

Omg Billy request! The scene where Billy is slipped the hairpin to get out of jail but it’s reader who is distraught as he’s being taken away but she kisses him and gives it to him and he’s like my smart girl😭 and then when he gets home after breaking out and she’s made him cookies or something waiting for him because she has so much faith in him she knew he’d find a way out

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚𝓫𝓲𝓵𝓵𝔂 𝓰𝓮𝓽𝓼 𝓪𝓻𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓭𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝓯𝓮𝓶 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝔁 𝓫𝓲𝓵𝓵𝔂 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓴𝓲𝓭

Mornings with Billy were the heaven you'd long spent your life searching for.

"Pretty girl," Billy murmured, tracing the shape of your face and kissing your brow gently. His lips pressed to your cheek, your nose, your chin, your jaw-wherever he could reach.

You giggled lightly, nuzzling his chest and kissing him right over his heart. "Good morning to you too."

He laid on his side, grinning and blinking at you tiredly. "Mornin'," he whispered, voice still thick with sleep.

Shifting closer, you latched onto him, pushing him to lie on his back so you could snuggle up against his chest. Chuckling, he slid one hand to the inside of your knee, pulling your leg to rest over his. "Cuddlebug."

Wrinkling your nose slightly, you looked up at him. "Bug?"

"Yeah, sugar," he smiled, kissing your nose again. "Like a ladybug."

"Mm, I do like ladybugs," you smiled again, and he nudged his nose against yours.

"See? There ya go, honey," he murmured, bundling you in his arms all cozy. "Everythin' I tell you that you are is in the prettiest way possible. Remember that f' me, baby."

Eyes alight with happiness, you tilted your chin up, puckering your lips slightly. He breathed a laugh, pecking you once, then twice, then drawing you in for a longer kiss that left you swooning.

Billy had ridden into town and stolen your heart as quickly as the stars appeared in the sky at dusk. He found you one night at the saloon, as you were ordering a shot of whiskey wearing your prettiest dress. You'd been meeting friends that night, but little had you known you'd be finding a love truer than anything you'd known before.

He swept you off your feet in every sense of the phrase, and before you knew it you were wearing his hat and sitting across his knees while he played poker. You loved the feeling of being so utterly his. Of having him to be yours.

Although he was running from a past he wanted to forget, you did your best to make it safe for him. There was trouble behind him, but you swept it all away, assured him he was good, through and through. That he was loved.

Trouble seemed to follow him though- that was the problem.

It had been a complete accident. He had been getting the two of you drinks at the bar, when suddenly he'd fallen into conversation with an older man. You hadn't heard what had been said, but before you knew it, there was a clatter, and then Billy was on the floor with him, fists flying, rolling around.

You stood, eyes wide, trying to see what was going on. There was a hum of chatter in the bar, and you tried to move forward. Another man blocked your path, saying, "Let 'em work it out. Someone'll step in if-"

His words were cut off by a gunshot and you gasped, hand flying to your mouth. The room went dead silent as Billy stumbled to his feet, a look of dumbstruck horror in his eyes. When he looked up, it was at you, and you saw the desperation on his face. The need. He needed you.

Rushing forward, you skirted the body on the floor, no longer breathing. Hands framing his face, you forced him to look at you, thumbs stroking his face. "Billy...Billy, look at me...Billy..." But you were already losing him to whatever was in his head, to the demons that crawled within.

He grasped your wrists, shaking his head, eyes falling away from yours. "Darlin'-" he choked.

"It was an accident Billy," you assured him, nodding in return. "An accident. You did nothing wrong."

Seeing that he was growing despondent, you reached one hand down, squeezing his fingers. "Come on...come on. Let's go home."

"The...the body-" he managed, and you shook your head.

"His friends will take care of it. Here-" you tugged on his hand, guiding him outside. Somehow you got him through the streets, leading Billy right inside the door of your home. Once he was on your bed, you sat beside him, removing his hat and setting it away.

Taking his face in your hands, you let one comb through his hair, soothingly you hoped. The other thumbed his cheek over the stubble. He was staring at the wall, stiff toward your movements.

"My love," you whispered, pulling his head to rest on your shoulder. "Billy...please talk to me."

He finally turned his head to face you, and you could see the tears welling up in his bright blue eyes. They were somehow bluer now that he was about to cry.

"Oh Billy," you whispered, and one crystal teardrop slid from his eye. You pulled him into you, lying down flat on your bed. He buried his face in your chest, his tears soaking the front of your dress.

You held him like that all through the night, whispering quiet things to him; promises that it was going to be okay, that he was still a good man. It had truly been an accident. But you knew your man. He took it internally, blamed himself for every little thing.

The next morning, he was arrested.

It had been so sudden- you'd been holding his hand, out in the market when he'd been seized, locked into handcuffs and marched down the street. You'd hardly had the time to say even a word to him.

You panicked, chest hurriedly moving up and down. Billy was getting further from you, about to be locked up for an accident.

Thinking fast, you yanked a pin from your hair, shoving it in his mouth. Running forward, pushing through the crowd, you caught up to them. In a quick motion, you grabbed Billy by the back of his neck, pulling him into a deep kiss.

Relieved when he parted his lips, you used your tongue to slide the pin from your mouth to his. He made a tiny noise of surprise but you silenced him, nail scraping the side of his face. His lips pressed to yours, kissing you with all the fervor he could manage with his hands bound.

Unsurprisingly, he was pulled off you, the officer pushing him down the path. Billy tossed one wide-eyed look at you, and all you could do was stand there helplessly, watching as your lover was taken away.

You could only hope what you'd done would help him.

When he was out of sight, there was nothing to be done except to go home and sit pretty. You hated the fact that he was in jail and you were away from him, unable to help further.

Eventually you were forced to find something to occupy yourself with. Simply worrying would do no good. So, standing up, you went into the kitchen to start making cookies. If Billy came home, he'd be happy to have something homeade.

As you mixed and stirred, your faith in him gained legs, growing and standing on tiptoes to reach the sun. Billy was smart, and he was capable. He would use your helping hand and escape, and if not he would find some other way to do so. Either way he would come home to you.

When he finally did it was nearly nightfall, and you'd just taken the final batch of cookies out of the oven. Humming to yourself, you plated them and sat down at the kitchen table, running a finger up and down your face and closing your eyes.

Then you heard the door open and shut, and you hurriedly got to your feet. Eyes glued to the doorway of the kitchen, your heart jumped for joy when he strode through, looking a little messy and tired but oh your Billy was home!

You ran to him, jumping into his arms and wrapping your legs around his waist. His gun belt dug into your bottom, but you hardly cared, too excited that he had returned. Burying your face in his neck, you murmured, "I knew you could do it. I knew you'd come back."

"My smart girl," he cooed, stroking your hair. "You're the reason I got outta there, sweetheart. Oh I love you so much."

"I couldn't do nothing," you whispered, pulling back and looking at him. "I love you...I always want to be there for you."

Billy's face split into a smile, and he leaned in to kiss you, lips moving gently against yours. He rested one hand on your cheek, the other arm wrapped tight around your waist, securing you.

When he pulled back, he whispered, "My girl...breakin' me outta jail. Atta girl."

You giggled, moving forward to kiss him once more, elated to be back in his arms where you belonged. He whirled you around, sitting on the chair you'd previously occupied with you in his lap. Hands on your hips, Billy started kissing you all over your face, murmuring soft words in between.

"Baby...m' baby...m' best girl..." he caught your lips for a long minute. "I love ya so much, sweetheart. More 'n anything."

Settled into that space of time, you made him feel loved through what you'd done for him. And as he kissed you and told you how proud he was of you, you felt loved too.

[spideyhexx]

Literally can’t stop thinking of wearing Billy’s hat around other people

GOD

he’d have a smile :) and lazily sit back in his chair, his legs spread, as he watches you buy two drinks for you guys, his hat sat on your head, just right. Everyone there knowing it’s his hat, and it being even more confirmed when you take a seat right on his thigh just as his poker game starts.

OH AND HOLDING HIS GLASS TO HIS LIPS TO LET HIM TAKE A SIP WHILE HES BUSY WITH THE GAME

am so feral for this man

[somanyratsinthewalls]

Congrats on 300 folower 🎉🎉🎉 can I request caramel lily it's totally ok if you can't lol btw love the way you write

Thanks so much for the req! This is SO much plot with a bit of porn, I'm not sure what got into me here! Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Sanji x Afab!Reader

WC: 2100 LOL

Prompt: “I’d eat 10 devil fruits if it meant I could see you naked.” 

— — 

It was Robin’s birthday, so you and the rest of the Straw Hats were enjoying an evening of drinking and celebrating. Empty bottles littered the dining room table and your captain was asleep and snoring on the deck, distended belly evident of his overindulgence. A few of your crew mates had returned to their quarters, the hour having grown late. You sat at the wooden table with Nami, Zoro, Franky and Robin playing cards while Sanji finished up dishes at the sink. You were all a bit tipsy, some more than others *cough* Zoro *cough* but it was clear the party was winding down. 

“I’m not tired yet. What if we made this game more interesting?” Robin made a suggestion and set her hand of cards down on the table. 

“*yawn* like a drinking game? I’m in.” Zoro takes another swig from his bottle of sake. 

“How about we put real money on the table? I know I’d kick your asses if there was actually something at stake.” Nami suggests. 

“I was actually thinking we could play strip poker.” Robin smirks as she makes the lewd proposal. 

*WOOOSH* 

In what seemed like the blink of an eye, Sanji was somehow squeezed in between Nami and Robin on the dining room bench when he was all the way across the room at the sink not a second ago. 

“What an incredible idea, Robin! And it is your birthday after all, so we should all do whatever Robin suggests!” Sanji hurriedly spits out with hearts in his eyes, seemingly out of breath from rushing over. 

“Absolutely not. If you think for a second that I’m going to-“ Nami protests. 

“Sure, I’m in.” Zoro interrupts her. 

“Yeah I’m down I guess.” You chime in, wanting to keep the party going. You had known these people for years now, they were your best friends. Everyone has a body, who cares if they see you naked? What’s the worst that could happen. 

“Aww come on, bros! That’s like super unfair! I’ll obviously lose first! This game is rigged!” Franky exclaims while gesturing to his lack of clothing. 

“Rigged against who? Perverts?” Zoro cocks his head and smirks. 

“Whatever, I’m out. I have maintenance to do on the engine anyway.” Franky excuses himself and heads down into the belly of the ship to finish his tasks. 

“Come on, Nami. We can still put real money on it. Well… most of us could, anyway…” Robin smirks as she looks at Zoro hunched over his drink at the other end of the table. “Hey! I have… some.. cash.. somewhere…” Zoro looks in his pockets and inside his sash trying to find some semblance of money. 

Nami sighed. She pulls a small stack of berries out of her pocket and puts it on the table in front of Zoro. 

“I’ll add this to your tab. I’m going to bed, goodnight guys.” She turns back to Zoro. “Don’t lose it all at once, idiot.” 

After Nami exits, the four of you that remained settled your first bets and started the first round of cards. 

Much to Sanji’s dismay, he lost the first three hands and has already removed his tie, sport coat and belt while the two beautiful women before him were still fully clothed. Zoro lost the next few, casually shedding his shirt and boots. Eventually, after many more hands of cards and many more bottles of booze, the four of you are all minimally clothed. Robin was winning, still in her bra and skirt. You were sat in your bra and panties, happy that you chose a nicer looking pair to wear today. The boys were both left in their pants. 

“Alright, guesshh I’m out…” a very drunk Zoro sighs out as he puts his losing hand down on the table. Wordlessly he stands up and pulls his pants down to his ankles. 

“OH MY GOD MY EYES-“ Sanji throws his head down on the table to shield himself from the now fully nude swordsman. “ROBIN? Y/N? AM I BLIND?” Sanji continues to scream towards the floor.

“WHY don’t you wear underwear! That’s gross! I do our laundry!” You exclaim with wide eyes. 

“Hmm.” Robin hums. “Carpet does match the drapes.” She raises an eyebrow.

“Screw you guyshhh… I.. I’m going to… to lie downshh…” Zoro stumbles fully naked out of the dining room. 

“I’m going to make sure he makes it back to his room…” Robin stands up and dresses herself. Hands sprout from the floor and gather Zoro’s shed clothing and neatly folds it into a pile. Robin grabs the pile and heads towards the door. “… and make sure he doesn’t permanently traumatize Chopper in the process.” 

The door slammed closed and you and Sanji were left alone at opposite sides of the table. 

Sanji cleared his throat. 

“Shall we play on, angel?” 

You roll your eyes. You were up tons of berries, there was no reason for you to keep playing, but something urged you to keep going. 

“Bring it on, Mr. Cook.” You give him a wink and you could swear your saw a drop of blood spill from his nose. 

Perhaps distracted by your tipsy flirting, Sanji loses the next hand and stands up from the table to remove his slacks. He returns to his seat quickly but not quick enough for the large bulge in his briefs to go unnoticed. You smirk. You spot his hands trembling as Sanji pushes his money into the center of the table for the next hand. 

“Wow, Sanji, that’s the last of your berries! What if you lose? How are you going to afford cigarettes this week? It’s worth that much to you?” You laugh and take a sip of your drink. 

“It’s not the money, angel.” Sanji looks across the table at you with sparkling eyes. “I’d pay any cost. I’d eat 10 devil fruits if it meant I could see you naked.” You couldn’t help but smile at his desperation. 

“Well…” You say teasingly. “Let’s play then.” 

Your confidence betrays you. You lose the hand. 

“Shit!” You throw your losing hand on the table. You rub your eyes with your hand, realizing that you have very little left to remove. The air in the room is different from before. Earlier it had been four crew mates laughing and goofing around, now the air was heavy with tension. It was just you and Sanji, sitting across from each other in your underwear. He was handsome and you found yourself admiring his lithe, slim body. You couldn’t help yourself from becoming aroused. 

“Well, fair is fair.” You push the money back towards Sanji and move your hand behind your back to unhook your bra. Your other arm held the cups of your bra in place over your chest as you undid the clasp. You look across the table at Sanji and his mouth was hanging open in anticipation. You aren’t sure why, but you decide to tease him a bit. You use your arm holding your breasts to push them up and together before you let them fall out of your bra, bouncing dramatically. 

“Merde, y/n…” Sanji couldn’t pry his gaze from your bare tits. 

“We still have one more round to play, don’t we?” You pick up a new hand of cards and hold it with both hands. Doing this, you push your naked breasts together with your elbows, teasing the poor cook further. 

“I… Y-yes…” Sanji grabs another hand while shaking himself out of his stupor. 

You had four of a kind, there was no way you could lose. You were going to make off with all the money and Sanji’s dignity. 

“Royal Flush.” 

“What?!” You balk at the cards Sanji had laid on the table. It was his turn to lean back in his seat and smirk. You were speechless. You stared blankly at the table for a few moments before you slide out from your seat on the bench. Sanji watched you intently. 

You turn around so that your back is towards him. You hook both of your thumbs into the sides of your light pink panties. You bent forward at the hip, poking your ass closer to Sanji’s face. You slowly, dramatically peel your panties down your bottom, revealing your supple skin inch by inch. Sanji groans as your glistening cunt is revealed to him. You straighten your back and step out of your panties. You turn around. 

“Well, Sanji. Looks like you won. I guess you could take the money…” You slink towards him and swiftly hop onto his lap, straddling his trapped erection. You place both your hands on the side of his face to make him look up at you. You gently grind your bare pussy onto his throbbing crotch. 

“Or you could have me…” You purr at him, lips almost touching. 

Sanji takes no time to weigh his options before slamming his mouth onto yours. His hands fly into your hair, trying to force your lips impossibly closer to his. His tongue forces its needy way into your mouth. You kiss wildly for several minutes before you snake your hand down Sanji’s slender torso and lift your pelvis up so you can free his aching cock from its confines in his silk briefs. You give his member a few slow strokes before Sanji whimpers into your mouth desperately. 

“Mmm… Y/n.. please…” Sanji mutters. 

You pull away and kiss down his neck. 

“Please what, Mr. Cook? I can’t quite understand…” You seductively whisper out. You lick and suck his collarbone as you continue to pump his cock. 

“Need you…” Sanji is panting like he ran a marathon, he can’t handle your teasing anymore.

“Need me what, Sanji? Come on… tell me what you need…” You bring your hand that isn’t wrapped around his member up to his chest to tweak and squeeze at his nipple. Sanji lets out a high pitched moan. 

“Need to be inside you, please angel, let me feel you…” Sanji grips your hips suddenly and firmly. He could barely form a coherent sentence. You giggled. 

“Hm…. Fair is fair…” You smiled as you lifted your pelvis and aligned Sanji’s cock up with your hole before slowly sinking down him. The stretch overwhelmed you at first as you moved your hands up to grip at his shoulders tightly. 

“Shit, angel… so tight and wet…” Sanji buries his face in your breasts as you adjust your body to his length. 

“Fuck…” You moan softly as you begin to bounce softly on Sanji’s cock. He was thicker than expected, and the anticipation had your body alight with sensation. 

“Does it feel nice, my love? Is my cock good for you? Please tell me…” Sanji breaths out as you use him for your pleasure, trying to contain his own release. 

“Mmmh…” You let out a moan as you switch from bouncing to grinding yourself onto the blonde’s slim hips. “You feel so good inside me, baby… you’re doing so good for me…” You rub your clit into the base of his shaft as Sanji hits that sweet spot inside of you. You bring your gaze to look into his eyes. Those gorgeous ice-blue eyes stared up at you with what could only be described as adoration and amazement. You saw tears well in his glazed eyes, he was clearly so lost inside the pleasure that was your warm cunt. 

“So good…” You continued to praise him. “Gonna cum…” You throw your head back and grip Sanji’s shoulders tighter. 

“Please cum on me, angel, want to feel your pussy when you cum, please…” You hear Sanji’s muttering but you were too focused on reaching your peak. 

You shriek out a loud moan as your orgasm rolls through your body. You fall forward into Sanji’s neck and stop your movements as the spasms slow down. Sanji picks up the slack and pumps his hips upwards into yours, finally able to let go. 

“Fuck, love, I’m cumming!” Sanji slams your hips down onto his and works his load deep into your cunt with a loud groan. 

After you both catch your breath from the intense love-making session you had just experienced in the dining room, you slide yourself off of Sanji’s cock and sit onto the seat next to him. You put your head on his shoulder, feeling exhausted. 

Sanji reached for his pack of cigarettes, desperately needing one after his climax. He finds the pack empty. He looks at all the money that is now rightfully yours on the table. 

“So…. I might need to borrow a little cash this week…” 

[fanaticsnail]

Perfection Incarnate

Tobiuo Masterlist Here

Word Count: 2,200+

Synopsis: Several members of the Heart, Kid, and Straw Hat pirates engage in a game of Poker. When Shachi runs out of Berry, he decides to bet something a little more interesting: Tobiuo's kiss.

Themes: Heat x Tobiuo, Canon x OC, gambling, drinking, kissing, yearning, unrequited love, infatuation, fascination, supernova trio crews, first kiss, they're so sheepish, fluff, swearing.

Notes: I am learning how to draw on my phone because I want to do some digital art. Always starting with a kiss, I just wanted to know more about why they were kissing like that. Calls back to this comic I did a while ago. 3rd person POV.

“Alright, which one of your crewmates has the weirdest mouth?” Shachi’s nasally crackle shot through the air, his drunken stupor propelling those around to laugh with him, “I'm outta Berry, so I gotta bet somethin’.” Penguin clapped a hand over Shachi's shoulder, leaning his forehead against his upper arm and hissing out a snort of laughter into it.

Killer was contemplative, leaning back in his seat and thinking on it. Going through a list of names of his crewmen, he finally settled on, “Heat. I think Heat has the weirdest mouth. Guy breathes fire, and he's got the ridges from the scar marks. Robin?”

“I'd say Brook, just because he has no flesh, nor tongue, but can still taste and consume food,” she hums in deep thought, meandering through her cards and sorting them from weakest to strongest suit. Shachi stifled his laughter, using his hands in a rough flurry to call to his crewmate from across the bay.

“Ours is Tobiuo. You gotta see her tongue and teeth, man,” Shachi admitted to the table, all ignoring the shouts and petulant competitions going on between Law, Luffy and Kid. Tobiuo released several soft huffs of laughter, soundlessly expressing her glee while nodding in confirmation with her red-headed crewmate. Killer tilted his head, narrowing his eyes beneath the mask to get a better glimpse of the inside of the fishwoman's mouth.

Arching her brows at his inquisition, she slunk back in her seat, lazily hooking her right thigh over her left knee and slinging her arm around the back of Penguin’s chair. Eyeing the mask-wearing man cautiously, she drew her tankard up to her lips and took a large sip of the amber liquid within.

“Why all the curiosity about mouths and Berry, Shachi?” Robin asked, regaining the tables attention and peeling their eyes away from Tobiuo's lips.

“I'm gonna bet Tobiuo’s lips for my wager. You up for it, Iyo?” he slurred his speech, lulling his head to the side and looking over his pointed sunglasses at her, “Gonna kiss the winner?” Tobiuo moved her hands in a rushed flurry, her lips pulling back into a tight-lipped snarl.

“Am I meant to be offended, or-…?”

“-No, no! Of course not,” Shachi interrupted the gestures, “Look, we all know what your lips feel like. You're an excellent kisser. I'd say they're worth…” he trailed off, creating an opening for another voice to air their thoughts.

“...Three Million Berry.”

Tobiuo choked on her drink, snapping her head over to the quieter voice at the end of the table.

Hiding behind a hand of cards, the slouched and bashful shoulders of the Kid-Pirate Fire-Breather softly shot his sunken eyes over the margin of the stack of cards. Tobiuo tilted her head to the side, fluttering her webbed hands hastily before tapping Penguin's arm with the heel of her palm.

“She's wondering why so much,” Penguin raised his arms defeatedly before translating properly, “Her exact phrase: ‘for that price, you could hire an escort to mess around with. Why her’?” Tobiuo nodded, waiting for his reply. Killer sat back in his seat, smugly looking between Heat and the Heart Pirates’ chief of security.

Killer had been the target to Heat’s confessions regarding his attraction to the fishwoman, often the source of many a migraine. Finally having an opening for conversation, he felt a weight leave him as Heat continued.

“I-... I, uh-…” Heat fumbled, his fluster rising in his cheeks and blooming the warmth in his chest. Killer’s migraine returned, prompting him to take action and rearrange his cards.

“That settles it, then,” Shachi confessed, looking between his pile of Berry, Nami, Robin, Killer, Penguin, Tobiuo, Wire, and Heat, “Opening bid, three million Berry. Anyone gonna call?” Tobiuo moved her hands and furrowed her brows, her two crewmates ignoring her protests and chastising words.

Before Heat had the ability to test his hand against Shachi's, to win the opportunity of a kiss from the Fishwoman, the blonde Kid-Pirate spoke up.

“I'll call you on your bullshit, Shachi,” Killer spoke up with his warm tone full of playfulness and jest.

“Jokes on you, blondie,” Shachi’s nasally crackle cut through the air, “I got 3 pretty ladies in my hand. Got something better than a three of a kind?” Shachi’s cocky grin looked greedily down at the pile of Berry on the table and back up to Killer.

“Actually I do,” his grin widened beneath his mask, his smile heard in his soothing baritone, “I've got a straight flush.”

“No,” Shachi whined, chucking his cards on the table in defeat, “And it was all going so well! I actually had a good hand this time!” Rather than consoling her crewmates of his loss, Tobiuo narrowed her milky-gaze at the mask-wearing man and tilted her chin up to assess him.

“Bets a bet. Pay up, Buttercup,” Killer rose to his feet, prompting Tobiuo to do the same. In two broad strides, she stood in front of him and folder her arms into one another. Killer snuck a look at his crewmate, Heat, who placed his cards face up on the lengthy table in front of him. A royal flush, a hand that would've landed him in Killer’s place if he spoke up.

“Don't be shy,” Killer uttered, elevating his right hand up and returning his attention to the seven foot Fishwoman. “Let me see,” he extended up his fingers towards her chin. Tobiuo narrowed her eyes, at him and released a puff of air from her lips before pouting them.

“Don't get all huffy with me, Missy,” he giggled, his shrill laugh causing her to become more at ease. Unlacing her arms, she allowed him to place his thumb and index finger on her chin and draw himself into her space. Offering a small hum of approval, he gently coaxed her face towards him.

Killer took a moment to appreciate being dwarfed by her great height, sparing another glance at his fire-breathing crewmates before directing her closer to his mask.

“Now say ‘ah’ for me, Tobiuo,” Killer moved his thumb up and gingerly toyed with Tobiuo’s bottom lip. Rolling her eyes, she parted her lips and revealed a sharp set of teeth. Each tooth was whittled naturally down into a sharp peak, her stalactite-shaped canines protruding from her upper and lower lips.

“Ohh… Pretty,” Killer hummed in thought, examining how interesting her uniqueness was in comparison to human anatomy while drawing his thumb away from her lip and down to her chin once more, “Now the tongue?” Tobiuo’s smirk rose up on the left hand side of her darker lips, lulling her tongue over and revealing the organ to him.

“Bloody hell-!” Killer exclaimed, pulling his hand away in shock at the length of the morsel. Divots, ridges, and pliant barbs were elevated over her palate. The tip of her tongue tapered off in a pointed end, extending far further than regular capacity.

Heat sat quietly by, his eyes widening and heart beating rapidly against the shell of his ribcage. Just when he thought he couldn't get more enamored with Trafalgar Law’s barbaric fighter, he swoons at the new light being shone on her otherworldly anatomy.

“Gonna show me what a three million Berry kiss is?” Killer goaded, prompting Tobiuo to retract her tongue back into her mouth and lean in closer to Killer. Reaching her webbed hand up to his mask, he shook his head and recoiled against her touch.

“Not on your life, Missy,” he shook his head and stepped fully away from her, “I don't take this off for just anyone. Not even for such a pretty reward as your lips, honey.” Tobiuo tilted her head to the side, furrowing her brows while fluttering her hands. Killer watched the motions, not truly understanding and looking over to Shachi or Penguin for translation.

“She's asking where you want her to kiss you, in not very appropriate language, I might add,” Penguin chuckled, prompting Shachi to wheeze. Killer shot his attention past the two Heart-Pirates towards the fire-breathing commander and curled his finger twice towards him.

“We were talking about Heat earlier,” Killer informed the gathering of allied troops at the poker table, “Can’t kiss me, but you can kiss one of the other commanders on my behalf.” The corset-wearing commander stepped closer to both Killer and Tobiuo, his eyes avoiding the milky-gaze of the security officer as she assessed his form.

She hadn't really thought much about the blue-haired Kid-Pirate, not truly experiencing a closeness like this with him to truly admire his features. Heat trailed his eyes up to her chin, hovering briefly on her lips before meeting her gaze with his own.

Fluttering her hands at him, Shachi, Penguin and, surprisingly, Wire, all released a cackle at her flurry. Heat shook his head, his lips parting as he tilted his chin towards the gathering without departing his eyes from hers.

“What are you-?” Heat asked his hairless eyebrows knitting together curiously, “Are you making fun of me?” Tobiuo slunk away, smiling with her lips tightly shut and a deep, purple blush rising to flood her cheeks and webbed ears. Heat chuckled, stepping forward more boldly now.

“Oh, I think you are making fun of me, Tobiuo,” Heat uttered in a deep rumble, causing her to take a step back and buckle her knees on the back of the bar island to the side of the poker table, “And what are you saying, hm? What's got them all giggly?” Weaving his legs within hers, he rose his right hand to cup her neck and tilted her head back. Hovering his lips over hers, he whispered gently over her sensitive skin.

Tobiuo’s brows rose, her gaze darting down to his lips and back up to his eyes in shock. Heat's thumb gently caressed the dips and elevations of scales against her skin, prompting Tobiuo’s breath to hitch and shudder. Heat made to tease the security officer a little more, but his over-eagerness to brush his lips with hers stilled that thought in a heartbeat.

Surging forward on his toes, he dwarfed the Fishwoman by looming his frame over hers, immediately meeting his lips with hers in a soft kiss. Closing his eyes, the tattooed Fire-Breather hummed into her lips in a soft moan, enjoying the warmth of her lips on his. Tobiuo's eyes remained open, examining the commander as he pressed his lips on hers with more intent and meaning.

Tobiuo was not unaccustomed to kissing for fun, many of her crew often got a peck on the forehead, a raspberry blown in their necks from behind, or a platonic oscillation if she was feeling exceptionally generous. But this? This was something entirely different.

Heat's lips ignited something in her that she hadn't felt before. Heart fluttering in her chest, she finally closed her eyes and leaned into his kiss. Webbed hands finding his hips, she drew him further into her lap and tilted her chin up to brush with his. Changing the angle, she parted her lips and prompted him to do the same. Just as her thumbs brushed against his dermal tri-hip piercings, Heat’s fingertips raked and carded through her hair to add depth to the kiss.

As his tongue finally met with hers, a small whimper caught itself in his throat at the ridges and flexible barbs coarsely grinding against his. Drunk on the feeling, his boldness halts as his bottom lip gets nicked on her sharp teeth.

“Ow-! Ouch-!” Heat hisses, tugging his body away from her and drawing his hand up to his bleeding lip. Tobiuo’s eyes widened in horror, her hand raised in a c-shaped cup and waving it in front of her lips. Her lip quivered, sharp lips chattering as she truly depicted her apologies for the bite.

“She's sorry, she's sorry,” Penguin translated for her, watching the flurry manically fluttering from her hands with her lips moving soundlessly, “‘It was a mistake. I'm so sorry, pretty boy. So much for a three million Berry kiss’.” Heat’s eyes widened, shaking his head and releasing his lip from his fingers. The softest trickle of red dribbled down his chin, doing nothing to calm Tobiuo’s hasty apologies from flying from her hands.

“...Pretty boy?” Heat blushed, his cheeks tinting with the softest shade of pink. Tobiuo stilled her hands, the same purple hue dusting her scaled features. “Is… Is that what you called me? ‘Pretty boy’?” Tobiuo sucked her lips into her mouth to halt her rising smile, prompting Heat to step towards her once more.

“I-... I think you're really pretty too, love,” he confessed in a barely audible whisper.

Killer hummed, slouching in his seat and offering his clenched fist towards Wire. The taller man clenched his own fist and tapped it against the balled fist of the first mate. The blonde was feeling rather pleased with himself, finally having Heat’s longing and infatuation momentarily satiated by a soft kiss from the security officer of his dreams.

Tobiuo felt her heart soar at his confession. Although, compared to the women present on the three vessels, she didn't feel she was all that much to look at. When her eyes met with Heat’s once more, she felt like the most beautiful creature that had ever lived. Offering him a little more of a grin, Heat released a whimsy sigh.

“Perfection incarnate.”

[irisintheafterglow]

HAND FIVE - STRAIGHT

summary: in a season where you're determined to fly under the radar, newly-returned crown prince!touya todoroki has other ideas. in this hand, a death is dodged and a deal is made (again).

wc: 3.3k

cw/tags: royalty!au/regency!au, fem!reader, mentions of blood and injury, what are we? trope, hurt/comfort, swearing, mentions of eating and food, unabashed references to dbatc and fortnight by taylor swift, also keigo is here lol

note: i love injury/comfort prompts, that's all. hope you enjoy!

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated!

“Who was that?”

“No one you need to care about,” Touya assures you when he steps back into the carriage, but he catches the skeptical narrow of your eyes as you follow the receding top hat-wearing figure. There was never getting anything past you, he’d learned over the weeks of your fake courtship. “It’s just personal business that requires my attention.” You hum, unnaturally letting the conversation drop and turning your gaze back to the scenery outside the window. Against his better judgment, he decides to press your buttons further. “You’re not going to accuse me of nefarious activities, my lady?”

“I’m not sure of what you mean, Your Highness,” you state curtly, a nearly imperceptible amount of malice behind your words. He frowns, searching his recent memories for what could possibly be bothering you. Was it something he’d said? Did he beat you too badly at poker? Were you craving a snack from the market? He stares dumbly until you finally meet his eye and you carefully nod your head over to the side, toward the third occupant of the carriage. Oh, shit. Right, he’s here too. 

“Please don’t feel the need to censor yourself for my sake, my lady,” the handsome, blonde airhead that was Prince Keigo Takami says politely while Touya fights the urge to groan. As the other crown prince of the nearest neighboring kingdom, Keigo had tormented Touya’s existence for an annoyingly large part of his life. He visited annually in his signature scarlet coats with gilded birds of prey embroidered on the sleeves, a stark contrast to Touya’s wardrobe of blue and silver. To his further irritation, your maroon day dress and satin gloves matched with Keigo’s color scheme and drew a harsh contrast between the two benches in the carriage. “Though, I do appreciate you sitting next to me for the trip to the market district. You are a better conversation partner than your suitor, if I may be blunt.” The smile you give Keigo is fake, he knows, but it still makes him nauseous to see you laughing with someone other than him. 

“It’s easy to imagine how this ride would have progressed if I were not here,” you chuckle and the prince next to you beams. Touya sticks his tongue out in disgust when Keigo is preoccupied looking out the window and you shoot him a stern look, making him click his tongue and cross his arms defensively over his chest. “The modiste that I visit for my nicer dresses is just down that street,” you point out, returning your attention to Keigo. “If Lady Rumi requires a dress for the end-of-season ball, she will be more than satisfied with the Yaoyorozu family’s work.” 

“I will pass word along,” Keigo affirms. “Have you decided what you will wear for the end-of-season ball?” You shake your head, examining a stray thread sticking out from your gloves and not looking anywhere near the other occupant of the carriage. 

“Most likely a dress similar to this one. The beading on this bodice is my favorite, but I may need a different color since I wore red last year.” 

“I believe blue would be a wonderful color for you, if I may,” Keigo offers and you nod, the stiffening of your posture almost too subtle for Touya to catch. Blue was always Touya’s color, the same way red was Keigo’s. “Wouldn’t you agree, Touya?” Asshole. You blink at him expectantly and he clears his throat for an excuse to stop looking at you. 

“Wear what you want,” he mumbles eventually, his words directed at the window beside him instead of you. “I don’t care.” A part of him dies from being so cold to you; but, if his indifference bothers you, you’re a master at hiding it. Prince Keigo, however, draws his mouth into a taut line in something akin to disappointment. 

“Forgive him for his cold demeanor,” Keigo amends, giving you an apologetic smile. “He’s been nauseous in carriage rides since we were children. It must be making him more irritable than usual.” 

“The only thing irritable about this carriage ride is you, Keigo,” Touya mutters with his eyes closed, his forehead pressed against the glass. He must’ve been in hell, the way Keigo was trying to silently implore him to say something and how you were wearing red, of all colors to wear. Red? Were you fucking kidding? “And, that obnoxious shade on your clothes,” he adds. You bark out a laugh that lacks any amount of humor, nothing like the warmth you’d shown Keigo. You were certainly angry at him. 

“I’m honored you find this shade so deplorable, Your Highness, since it belonged to my grandmother.” You huff an emotional breath with a hand over your heart. “May her soul rest in peace.” Touya’s face is lit on fire and he checks his watch in a futile attempt to make time go faster. Keigo manages to conjure up a few stunned apologies, but you end up sitting with the two princes for the rest of the ride in silence. 

Your dramatic sadness was feigned, of course. Truthfully, the dress was just a gift from your father for your birthday the previous year. Your grandmother had left you nothing but old shoes at her passing when you were barely fourteen, but Touya didn’t need to know that. 

You wanted to bother him, make him angry, and push him to his emotional limits just as he was testing yours. He was exceedingly frustrating lately, blurring the lines between fake affection and genuine romantic gestures so often, it left your head spinning. Every time you thought you had a grasp on where his mind was strategically, he’d turn around and look at you so lovingly that your knees would weaken. The feelings slowly making themselves known were becoming impossible to ignore, and you settled for re-discovering your dislike for Touya to combat them. 

And, obviously, he’d taken notice. 

“You’re upset with me,” he mutters next to you, quiet enough so that no one in the square could eavesdrop. Prince Keigo was away for the time being, looking through swatches of fabric that could be used for the palace’s new curtains. “I want to know why.”

“What gives you such an impression?” 

“You’re refusing to look at me, for starters,” he grits out. You abruptly turn on your heel and move to the next stall, selling winter wear and other warm clothes. A dark blue cloak catches your eye and you run your fingers over the ruched velvet. It was beautifully made and gave you an excuse to continue ignoring the prince. “Do you like it? You can have it,” he says from over your shoulder, gesturing for a nearby servant to pay the vendor. Before currency can be exchanged, you shake your head, giving the seller your thanks before leaving. The prince’s patience was sure to be running short now, and you glance at the clocktower for an estimate on how much longer you had to endure this. When you’re about to find a new hiding spot, an all-too-familiar hand grips your wrist and you’re dragged into a nearby alley between two buildings. The prince’s arm comes up to block you in, forcing you to meet his eyes. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The prince is close enough that you can see where the skin of his scars draw jagged lines across his face. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He all but spits the word and you refuse to back down from his glare. “You think you can just ignore me and get away with it? You think you can just back out of our deal?”

“I never said I was backing out of anything,” you snarl. “Maybe, I just want you to leave me alone for a single moment!” 

“I am your prince,” he hisses.

“And I am to be your intended within a fortnight, only for you to leave me like none of the exchanges we shared mattered in the slightest. Let me deal with that how I will,” you demand and shove his arm out of your way, storming into the marketplace and disappearing among the crowd. You hear him call out your name but you don’t dare respond, an odd feeling akin to grief starting to stir in your chest. You catch the faintest blur of movement running along the walkways between the four towers surrounding the square–

And barely dodge the arrow aimed directly for your liver. 

The marketplace descends into chaos within seconds as another barrage of arrows fires in your direction and you duck behind a stand as it falls, frantic customers running about like ants trapped in a jar. You pull your legs close and spot a growing patch of red dripping from your skirt and cringe when you see the gash cutting into the right side of your calf. You must have caught it on something while you were running, or a stray arrow grazed it during the first wave. From what you could tell, there were probably three or four assailants, all armed with bows and shooting in your direction. You silently prayed that Touya was still alive, however much you wanted to strangle him yourself. Boots skid to a stop in front of you and you’re ready to fight the attacker off with a nearby shard of stained glass, but relax when Keigo’s worried face appears in front of you. 

“Shit, there you are. I saw you storm off right before the attack started and figured Touya said something stupid again,” he says, his relief evident. “Are you hurt?” 

“There’s a wound on my leg,” you inform him with a wince, pulling up your skirt and fighting back a wave of nausea when you see how much blood is gushing from it. “I don’t–I don’t think I should be losing…” 

“That much blood, I know,” Keigo finishes, holding out his hand and tugging you out from under the table. With a hand around your waist, he guides you back into the dark alley, away from the screaming crowd, unrelenting streams of arrows, and the sudden smell of something burning. “Stay here, I’ll send Touya to come get you.” 

“But–”

“No buts. He’s going to kill me if something happens to you, so just stay here. Okay?” You nod and back further into the alley, an airy feeling growing in your mind that was making it hard to think. You register Keigo running back out into the conflict, but don’t remember how you ended up slumped against the wall or how long you stayed there until Touya tore his way through the darkness. The airiness in your head was concerning, now, but something in your head said that sleeping it off would make it go away. The prince didn’t think so. 

“You gotta stay with me,” you hear him plead, his body crouched in front of you and his face inches from yours. Something was bright and vividly blue behind him in the square, waving like a clothesline in a hurricane. Fire? “If you go to sleep, that’s going to ruin many, many things for me.”

“I’m bleeding out and the only thing you can think of is yourself,” you murmur, blinking slowly. The dry skin of his palms meet your cheek as he gently holds your face upright, his burning stare wrought with concern. “Typical.”

“The only thing I’m thinking of right now is you, dumbass,” he snaps, glancing up and down the alley. “I need to move you. I have a safe house a few blocks down from here. If we go now–”

“I can’t,” you tell him in a broken whisper and his face falls. “It hurts too much to walk.”

“I’ll carry you. I don’t care how far or for how long, I just need to get you somewhere safe.” Desperation starts to leak into his voice and, if you weren’t on the verge of passing out, you would tease him. “Wrap your arm around my shoulder because we have to go, now.” You have no choice but to obey him as his arms slip under your legs and back, and you stifle a cry into your fist when a blinding spike of pain throbs in your calf. 

“Touya, it hurts,” you groan against his chest. “It really fucking hurts.”

“I know it does. Just hold out for a little longer and I’ll stop the bleeding, I promise. You’re going to be okay.” The dark alleys of the market district become a blur of bricks and broken windows, ultimately fading into darkness as Touya’s voice becomes distant. 

–

You wake with a start in an unfamiliar bed and register the dull pain in your calf, now carefully wrapped in thick gauze. It was dark and you could vaguely make out silhouettes of furniture in dim candlelight. You were in an attic of some sorts, your bed shoved against a slanted wall and facing a large circular window that overlooked the city. A small sofa, a set of drawers, and a desk were haphazardly strewn across the remaining space, and a surprisingly soft rug hits your feet when you swing your legs over the edge of the bed. Before you can stand, a square cutout in the floor pops up and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t relieved to see who opened the hatch. 

“What the hell are you doing sitting up? You should be resting,” Touya commands, hurriedly setting down a tray of food and rushing to your side. Without meeting your eyes, he kneels in front of you as you open your mouth to argue, but the words die on your tongue when he gingerly takes your calf in his hands. “The bleeding stopped, thankfully, but you need to be careful not to open your stitches.”

“You gave me stitches?” 

“No, a friend did. She’s good with needles and better with blood than I am,” he replies absentmindedly, still turning your leg over in his palms. He rotates the limb a little too far to the side and you inhale through your teeth, flinching away as far as you could go. “Shit, sorry.” He stands abruptly and retrieves the tray of food from the floor near the hatch, setting it on an empty spot on the bed before sitting down himself. “Are you hungry? You need to eat something, and drink water, and probably rest some more–” 

“Touya,” you insist, grabbing his hand as it shakily rearranged various small plates of food. He finally looks at you and you’re met with an expression you’ve never seen on his stupidly handsome face. The prince looked…scared. “Just give me a second to process things, please.” 

“You need to heal,” he protests. “I will take care of you.”

“You can, if you tell me where I am right now,” you state and he exhales out of his mouth, considering you a moment longer before setting the tray in your lap. “I’ll eat, but I need you to explain to me what happened.” He watches you take a few small bites from your fork before answering, like he was still afraid you’d deny him the opportunity to dote on you. 

“We were attacked. Assassination attempt on my life. You just happened to be in the crossfire,” he scowls. “I’m sorry you were hurt because of me.” The silence in the attic as you eat is palpable. “And…I’m sorry for whatever I did to make you angry.” Your mouth quirks into the tiniest smile, but it’s again devoid of any real humor. 

“You still don’t understand what you’ve been doing?” He was wracking his brain again, trying to figure out what he’d done, but no answer occurred to him. 

“I don’t, but I do feel remorse that I’ve upset you,” he admits, hoping you’d put him out of his misery and just tell him what he did wrong so he could fix it. He wanted to fix your sad smile the same way he’d fixed your leg, but something in him was saying that what you were feeling wasn’t simply physical. “If we’re going to finish the deal–”

“That’s why I’m upset,” you interject and he pauses. How could you be mad about the deal when you’d been so agreeable only a few weeks ago? “I can’t say I enjoy how this agreement has been progressing.” 

“What have I done to upset you?”

“What haven’t you done should be your question,” you mutter almost imperceptibly. Touya exhales deeply again, this time through his nose. At least you were feeling strong enough to talk back. “You really don’t understand what your intimacy has been insinuating?” He freezes. Were you implying what he thought you were implying? 

“I don’t know what you mean,” he forces out. If you developed feelings for him, that wasn’t his fault. He was going to leave, after all, so he’d be out of your life soon enough. Perhaps, though, that wasn’t what you wanted. Nonetheless you shake your head, a clear signal he was losing you again. “Please, tell me what you mean,” he says in an attempt to regain your attention. You pause, eyes staring off at the blanket covering your lower body.  

“You look at me fondly as if I were a friend,” you explain quietly. “Sometimes, I’m foolish enough to believe I am one; yet, it feels like a small cut every time I realize that it is all for show.” 

“And how many cuts do you have now?” How many times had he hurt you? 

“Too many to count,” you say and something in his chest twists like a maid wringing a towel. He’d been selfish, truthfully. He liked your attention, how you rolled your eyes and were quick to debate him on any topic under the sun. It didn’t occur to him, though, how the blurry line between business and friendship affected you. 

“I don’t know what you want me to do.” The look you give him is akin to his royal tutor hitting him on the head with a rolled up scroll. 

“Do you care for me, Touya?” He nods carefully, trying to predict your angle. “Are you being genuine?”

“I have every reason to lie to you, but on this I am true.” 

“I am not just a business transaction to you?” 

“The furthest from it.” You seem to accept this and the tiniest weight leaves his shoulders, but the aura of unhappiness that you radiate still remains. “What would you have me do to prove that I care for you?” 

A pause, two shaky breaths.

“Let me in. Allow me to be your friend, if only for the fortnight until you propose.” There was a sadness in your request that he couldn’t place, but he finds himself agreeing without hesitation. Despite the masquerade ball of liars and fakes he’d been trained to deceive in the palace, a part of him longed to be seen by someone for how he really is. The only question now asked how much danger he was unwillingly putting you in. 

For the time being, he stored the concern in the back of his mind, relishing in the feeling of your hand slipping into the rough calluses in his palm. Whether you reached out first or he did, it didn’t matter. The touch felt different, something shifting in the air as he ran his thumb over your knuckles. You’d set down your utensil and found the side of his face, brushing your fingers over the mottled scars on his cheeks. What an odd ache, he thought to himself as he replayed the memory back in his mind while you slept again. He didn’t understand the feeling until a few hours later, when he returned you home and you were out of his sight. 

For the first time in years, Touya Todoroki felt seen. 

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[jackassbrainrot]

knoxville + cowgirl gf hcs

his accent gets ten times thicker when he's with you

you two are so competitive

he knows you can stay on a mechanical bull longer than he can yet he still challenges you every time he sees one

laughing at him every time he gets fucking destroyed by a bull

"darlin' you're softer than cotton candy in the rain"

he gets scared every time you're involved in a stunt even though you can take it

"hun I've been kicked by a horse, I'm fine, bam ain't that strong" (bam got mad at you for that)

getting called every pet name in the book

sugar, darlin, doll

you call him peej (hates it in public but looooves it when you two are alone)

calling him your buckle bunny

matching belt buckles!!

pulling him around by his belt loops

jokingly calls you ma'am all the time

destroying all the guys at pool and poker

loving it when johnny wears cowboy hats

trying to teach him how to line dance and failing horribly (that boy is so uncoordinated)

"so is cowgirl your favorite position" "shut up bam"