#that he's gonna end up in a cowboy hat alongside him

[sunglassesmish]

cas knows what he's thinking

[exquisiteserotonin]

Stargazin'

I'm just gonna go out and say it: it's Friday and we're feral

Rating: E is for Explicit - 18+ only 🔞MDNI🔞

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word count: ~1.9K

Summary: An unexpected suprise is waiting for you when you get home. Will these two crazy kids ever admit that they're crazy for each other?

Warnings: Oral sex (m!receiving) PiV sex, riding, cheesy jokes (it's Dieter, come on!) --- like I've said before, my fic is not for youngsters, please do not engage if you are not 18+

A/N: This all came about after seeing a certain person with a sparkly accessory.

Divider by @cafekitsune

And as always so much love for my magical sluts at the Juice Collective! @basicoccult @imalrightllama @legendary-pink-dot @pink-whiskey-woman @sparklefarts38 @redhotkitchen @youandmeand5bucks @arcanefox207

“You’ve been over at that guy’s house almost every day last week,” Alex said through the Bluetooth speaker in your car. “What was his name again? The one who lives across the street from El Rey.”  

“Pedro,” you responded with a giggle, thinking about how his thick cock filled you, “I mean he’s a good fuck.” 

“Sounds like it’s getting pretty serious.”

“Eh,” you replied, suddenly feeling almost guilty at having anything negative to say about getting fucked on a regular basis. 

“Uh oh, did your red flag radar go off?” 

“There’s just something a little shady there,” you added as you clicked your tongue against your teeth, “and called me old fashioned, but I like my fuck buddies to be transparent.”

“You mean like Di---,” she started as you took a right turn uphill towards your street.

“Don’t start!” you said, your voice darting out like an arrow. “Hey, I’m almost by my house, I’ll call you later.” 

You ended the call as you turned into the driveway of your beachy bungalow. The bright afternoon sun danced against the rhythmic sway of the shade trees in your front yard. An instant feeling of calm met you once you unlocked and walked through the front door of your home. The mix of the golden light, the warm neutrals of your decor, and your beloved plants placed with intention alongside windows and in the corners of each room all came together as your personal sanctuary. 

Muscle memory led you to your bedroom and your feeling of peace left you with a gasp at the sight before you. 

“Howdy.” 

Dieter greeted you with a low, flirty growl as he affected a Texas drawl. He lay in your king size bed, naked, with his legs sprawled out, a sparkly, silver cowboy hat covered his cock, like a glimmering bow atop a present. His hands were resting behind his head as he looked at you with a libidinous smirk shining through his stubble which had grown longer since last you saw him. As much as you fought against it, you found yourself biting your bottom lip.

“What do you have under that hat, cowboy?” 

Dieter pushed himself up by the elbows, accentuating the broadness of his shoulders. The sunlight that floated in through the blinds lit his golden skin with a perfect combination of light and shadow. A heat grew inside you as you marveled at how it defined the obvious muscles that had emerged since you had last seen him. 

Fuck, he’s been working out. 

“Well ma’am,” Dieter continued, his accent was so sweet it was as though he’d dipped his tongue in tupelo honey, “why don’t you mosey on over here and find out?”

It was like he was pulling you into some kind of metaphysical trance as he leaned up one inch more, emphasizing his belly. Though noticeably slimmer, it remained endearingly soft.

With wicked intentionality, he adjusted the shimmering hat and bucked his hips. Every movement he made had your skin tingling from each strand of hair on your head through every inch of your body to your toes. The worst thing about him knowing you so well was that he knew exactly what to do to drive you absolutely insane. And with one more wink and a scrunch of his nose, he beckoned you to him. 

“You’re a fucking menace,” you said, trying to hide your smile. 

“C’mere and I’ll show you just how much of a menace I can be,” he hissed, his tongue taking a small peek from behind his smile.

It was hard for you to imagine who might deny Dieter, knowing that there was an 8-inch cock waiting for you underneath that obnoxiously loud, silver cowboy hat. Whoever that might be, it certainly wasn’t you. 

You had discarded all but your bralette and panties as you began to crawl on the bed towards him. The muscles in his calves were solid and defined, you noticed, as you knelt between his spread legs massaging your hands up their length. The hairs on them tingled with a wave of raised goosebumps at your touch. With one hand you removed the only physical accessory that prevented him from being bare and unfurled for you. 

“You know what they say,” Dieter tempted you with a roll of his tongue, “save a horse, ride a cowboy.” 

A loud, warm laugh echoed from the depths of your belly. Any other man would have been threatened and immediately lost his hard on from your laughter, but not Dieter. You took the hat off his dick placing atop your head as he laughed with you. His chest and belly rumbled, his laugh echoing out wildly and boisterously with yours while his cock still twitched. Reaching for his forearms and pulling him towards you, you interlaced your fingers in his. The smile you wore on your face before you kissed him was so big that your cheeks hurt. 

“Well cowboy, I’m going to ride this cock,” you hushed him as you lowered your lips to his glistening cock, “but first…”

Gripping him first with a gentle hold of your right hand, you pulled back his foreskin and caressed your lips and circled your tongue against the smooth skin of his cock. A gasp escaped him at your initial touch. A smile slowly formed on your lips before you wrapped them around the tip, pressing a broad stroke of your tongue to the center of the head of his cock. His body shuddered with a few strong pulls of him into your mouth.

“Shit, you’re…so good,” he groaned, placing a hand gently to your hair. 

At that motion you moved your lips down the length of his shaft. Your lips savored each ridge and vein as he throbbed against you. You took as much of him as you could into your mouth to the back of your throat. You hollowed your cheeks to take more of him in, at least, as much you could before finding the perfect rhythm of your lips moving up and down to fuck him with your mouth. 

“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he said with the tiniest whimper. 

A low, muffled moan vibrated from the back of your throat to his cock, making him moan out for you again and again. The feeling of him shaking for you and the way he sighed and moaned in desperation as you sucked him off had a special way of making you want him even more. As you delighted in the taste of him, your pussy clenched as your sex slipped from you to coat your panties. As you massaged his balls, you focused your mouth back to the head of his delectable cock, sucking until he gripped the sheets. 

“Stop, stop---don’t want to come yet!” He groaned through sighs and gasps. “Need to fuck you.” 

“No…,” you purred as you slipped off your panties and pulled your bralette off over your head, “I need to fuck you.”

“Well come on then,” Dieter tempted, scrunching his nose with a playful snarl, “ride it like you stole it.” 

You hadn’t even sunk over him, and your pussy was already pulsing with need. The anticipation coursed through you as you crawled over his defined thighs, feeling the muscles in his quads flex as you lowered yourself onto him with an unrestrained moan. With a slow, deep roll of your hips you began to grind yourself on his cock. With each wave of movement, you felt how hard you kept him and how every controlled gesticulation you made stirred the most intense delight in your folds. Your sex glided from your pussy onto his cock as you swayed your hips into him faster and faster. He clutched at the pillow beneath his head, bouncing his hips up for you as you rode him. His herculean hands reached for your waist, massaging your hips as you continued to bounce on him, feeling every inch as he thrust up into you. The head of his cock hit you in the most exquisite way, leaving you shuddering against his hips. Your approaching climax began to light up nearly every nerve in your body like a switchboard. His hands journeyed to your breasts, grasping them, kneading them until his fingers found your nipples to pinch and flick at them like the strings on a fiddle. 

“Ahh, Dieter, fuck!” you cried, your nipples tingling at his touch.

Holding the silver cowboy hat to your head with one hand, you leaned back against his left thigh until you began to gently massage his balls with the other. A long, low moan left his pouty lips, and he gave one strong thrust upwards, making you yelp out in ecstasy. As Dieter propped himself up towards you, you leaned forward to grind your pelvis into the base of his cock. Every nerve ending in your clit simmered with electricity from the motion. Perspiration glistened over your skin as you began rocking into one another. You knew each other’s bodies so well that you moved in unison. With them, you created the perfect rhythm until your hearts raced faster and faster and your breaths became ragged at your approaching climax. 

“Shit---I’m---I’m gonna come this way,” he moaned, his hips thrust deeper into you as you continued to grind onto him. 

“Me too!” Your words came out like a blur as you felt the perfection of your pussy starting to quake around his cock.

His pace was unbridled and rough as he began to lose himself in you, his large hands gripping your ass. The way your pussy vibrated against him sent waves of pleasure that rippled over every inch of your body until you felt them all the way to your head while you cried out his name in exaltation. 

The cowboy hat fell from your head as he gave you one, last powerful thrust. He stilled and then emptied himself into you, letting out a raspy moan that melted into ardent whimpers. For a few moments you let your breath come down to a natural pace while you held each other in ethereal bliss. Your lips pressed against his forehead as he nuzzled against you, his lips and nose kissing and caressing your neck and shoulders.

Both of you sighed as you climbed off him to collapse next to him in bed.

“Jesus, that was amazing!” You exclaimed as you kissed him. 

Your fingers played with the brim of the glittery cowboy hat before looking up at him to see the goofiest, post-coital grin spreading onto his handsome face. 

“I’m taking it, you got this on set as a joke?” you asked in reference to the Western movie he’d been away filming. 

Dieter confirmed it with a nod, unable to get rid of the smile beneath his mustache. Rolling over to his side, he propped himself up on one elbow. His eyes traversed the curves of your body followed closely by his fingers. The caress so soon after your orgasm sent shivers straight to your still throbbing pussy. 

“Just think, now you can tell everyone you’ve rode a stallion and a cowboy.” 

His cheeks were rosy and tight with stifled laughter. You rolled your eyes as you turned to face him, shaking your head with a low chuckle. Everything in that perfect moment - the silly cowboy hat, the bad jokes, and goofy smiles were so classically Dieter. 

“You’re a dork,” you teased, pressing a small peck to his aquiline nose. “Welcome home.” 

[bellarkeselection]

Two Dutton’s in the Family

Request from mackleann on Wattpad. Kayce and the reader get married and on that same day Jaime tells John he has a son.

My boots hit the wooden staircase of the front porch that were attached to the main house on the Dutton ranch. Today is the day I have been dreaming of since I had my very first ever conversation with Kayce John Dutton. The man that I was about to marry and become the future Mrs. Dutton. Everyone turns their heads my direction but my gaze remains attached to the deep brown eyes of my soon to be husband. “Remember if he ever hurts you I have a shotgun ready and waiting.” My father told me squeezing my arm that was looped through his.

“Don’t worry, daddy. I know he won’t hurt me.” I reassured him glancing up to him before we got to the end of the isle. He kisses my cheek placing my hand in Kayce’s giving him a stern but soft smile before sitting down with my mother and Kayce’s father John.

His sister Beth and brother Lee were sitting behind them. Then there was his adopted brother Jaime and his girlfriend behind them since Jamie and Beth have a bad history of fighting. My dress had a long train and a cut slit at my right leg. My hair was wavy and curled a little on the ends. The dress was short sleeved with lace that also was around my waist going along with my light brown cowgirl boots that were more comfortable than heels. “You look so beautiful.” Kayce smiled eyeing me up and down and I did the same to him.

He was wearing a white dress shirt with a black dress jacket, pants and tie. His curly was combed a little but it was still a mess like I liked it to be. Finally he had his familiar black dusty cowboy hat on his head which would be weird anyway except Montana. “You are rather handsome in a suite and tie.” It was rare that he wore stuff like this but I must admit it was making it hard for me to not just drag him towards the house and upstairs to his room right now and I had to imagine he was thinking the same about me.

“We are gathered here today to join together Kayce John Dutton and Y/n M/n L/n. Now I shall let the couple say their own vows if they have some prepared.” The paster declared stepping away from us smiling at the two of us.

Clearing my throat I intertwined my hands with Kayce’s struggling not to cry through my vows. “Kayce, the day we met you were literally my knight in a cowboy hat that night at the bar. When you gave that drunk a good lesson in manners. I didn’t move back home with my parents and expect to find the man that I wanted to marry. Yet standing here I don’t regret how we met at all. You are kind, brave, funny and a gentleman who will do anything for the people he loves and his family. That is everything I want in a partner, so thank you for asking me to marry you.”

“Oh Y/n, damn that’s gonna be hard to beat but here I go.” Kayce chuckled causing everyone to chuckle alongside him. He squeezed my hands in his larger ones throwing his head back for a second. “Y/n, I love you. You are so sweet, fierce, stubborn and you can ride like the wind on anything you set your mind too. And I can’t wait to call you Mrs. Dutton and have little kids running around this place.”

Reaching up I wiped away some tears not caring if I was messing up the little mackup I had put on. The paster returned placing his hands over ours shifting his gaze between the two of us. “Now Kayce will you take this woman to love and cherish from this day until the end of your days. And promise to protect her from any danger and always support her?”

“I do.” The youngest Dutton child responds.

The paster turned to stare at me asking the same question. “Y/n will you take this man to love and cherish from this day until the end of your days. And promise to protect him from any danger and always support him?”

“I do.” I responded back smiling towards Kayce.

Beth rose to her feet coming over with the rings that belong to John and his late wife Evelyn. Kayce and I each took one where I slipped his ring on his left hand. He slowly slide his mother’s ring on my left hand intertwining our hands together once more. We were grinning so big and bright just waiting to hear his next words. “By the power vested in me by the great state of Montana. I now pronounce you husband and wife, Mr and Mrs. Dutton. You may kiss the bride.”

Kayce quickly yet gently cupped my face in his hands pressing his lips down against mine. Leaning up on my toes I wrapped my arms around his neck kissing him back deeply. He tilted his head to the side deepening the kiss especially when my fingers ran through his curly locks. His hat fell off his head when I did so where he moved his hands down my waist tugging me against his chest hearing everyone begin clapping. Leading into the reception after taking a bunch of pictures we were sharing our first dance as husband and wife until Jamie slowly rose to his feet walking over to my new father in law. “Uh dad, I’m sorry to tell you this here since it’s Kayce and Y/n’s wedding. But I can’t wait any longer so you should know that I am going to have a child.”

“That’s great, son.” John rose to his feet where Kayce and I paused our dance smiling at the pair. John was always worried with having an heir to keep the legacy of the ranch. So now that he knew that he wouldn’t be as concerned as he was beforehand.

Intertwining my hand with Kayce’s I laid my head on his chest grinning ear to ear. “Do you think anyone would notice if we slipped out the back of the barn and went to the old cabin that Lee doesn’t use.” Leaning up on my toes I whispered in his ear smirking when he met my gaze kissing the crown of my head.

“The only person we’d have to worry about is Beth but don’t worry I think she’s about to have a fight with Jamie in a second. So let’s go, Mrs. Duttton.” He loops his fingers through mine tugging us around the doorway leading me out into the darkness with the moon shining above our heads. We ran up the wooden stairs until he picked me up suddenly bridal style.

I squealed loudly wrapping my arms around his neck. He was holding underneath my ankles and his other arm was holding my back until we entered the bedroom where he tossed me down on it gently. “Kayce!”

“I have been waiting so long for this, darling. I’m going to make you never want to leave this bed because I love you so much.” He hovered above me leaning down crashing his lips onto mine. Running my fingers through his hair I unbuttoned his shirt tossing it and the tie across the room.

He broke the heated kiss moving his hands underneath my dress slowly shrugging it over my head tossing it gently onto the edge of the bed. He then unclipped my bra smirking when our eyes scanned over one another so ready for what was coming next between us. “I’m in the same boat, Kayce. Thankfully we can have a honeymoon otherwise I don’t think I would let you leave this room ever.” Wrapping my arms around his neck our lips met again with me crawling up into his lap.

“I love you so much…” He muttered in between kisses lowering me onto my back never breaking the kiss and moaning a few times when I tugged his curly hair tightly.

He buried his face in the crook of my neck trailing kisses downward causing me to moan with him slowly making love to me. “I love you too, cowboy.” We were both so caught up in the moment of passion and love that we could completely ignore the fact that we slipped out of our wedding reception.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[sanguineterrain]

here’s a cowboy eddie thought inspired by listening to the dracula podcast. thinking about how eddie would totally say “that’s my brave girl”, about just about anything. learned a new skill? that’s my brave girl. did something you were nervous about? that’s my brave girl. had a whole nervous breakdown and are now all watery eyed in his lap? that’s my brave girl… he’d probably punctuate it with a kiss on the head, too.

anon ur brain is so big... full of incredible thoughts... luv it 🫶this one kinda got away from me lmao but i hope you like it anyway | fem!reader x cowboy!eddie, kind of suggestive at the end

****

"Missus, Missus!"

Henry skids to a stop in front of the bar, where you've been scrubbing at a sticky spot for the last five minutes.

You drop the rag into the bucket and wipe your forehead with the back of your hand.

"Ain't you s'posed to be in school, Henry Sherman?" you ask, hand on your hip.

"Aw, it's too hot for school, Missus," Henry whines. "'Sides, Mr. Porter gave me a dime to be the lookout for today. Guess who just rode in?"

"I dunno. Mr. Leland?"

Henry makes a face. "The postman? No, no. That ain't exciting. Guess again. You got one more guess."

You smile and lean against the bartop.

"Hmm... fastest gunslinger in the West?"

Henry nods eagerly. "Uh-huh! Mr. Hellfire's back!"

Your smile drops. "What? Henry, are you sure?"

Henry bounces on his toes. "Yes, ma'am! He just rode in ten minutes ago. Asked specifically for you. He's at the inn right now."

"Oh." You pat your skirt down like Mr. Hellfire's just walked in. "Uh, thank you, Henry. Here's a nickel."

You flip him a coin. Henry catches it happily.

"Alright! 'M gettin' a peppermint stick."

"Don't spoil your dinner," you say distractedly, sliding off your apron and walking around the counter to get your bag.

Henry hangs behind, drumming his fingers on the stool.

"Are you gonna marry Mr. Hellfire?"

You miss a step on your way out the door, catching yourself on the side of the building.

"What—why do you ask that, Henry?"

"'Cause you hang out with him a lot, even though people say he's bad."

"He ain't bad," you say softly. "People just talk too much."

"I know that," Henry says. "He brought me real cowboy boots for Christmas. Bad people don't give Christmas presents."

You chuckle and pat the top of Henry's head.

"No, most don't."

"He gives you lots of gifts too," Henry continues. "And Mr. Porter told me that men only give gifts to women they're gonna hitch their cart to."

You shake your head. "Henry, please don't repeat anything Mr. Porter says."

"Is it true?"

You roll your eyes. "I'm sure he thinks it's true."

"So you ain't gonna marry Mr. Hellfire? 'Cause I think it'd be real fine if you did. He's got a good horse and a big hat, and he's nice to me an' the other kids. And he brings us caramels!"

"Caramels? Don't buy peppermint sticks if he gave you caramels, Henry."

"I'm savin' those for later," he says, and you know he won't.

You go inside the inn. Eddie's hat is on the table next to him. His dark curls are pulled back into a ponytail. Sweat has gathered on his brow and in the dips of his collarbone. Your heart lurches. It's been a month since you'd seen him; you were starting to think Eddie would never come back.

Henry's sister, Sally, is sat at Eddie's feet, alongside a few other children. Eddie has his guitar out, quietly singing. You lean back on a table and listen to his crooning.

Henry eventually loses patience, though, and goes up to his sister hallway through the song.

"Sally, c'mon. Momma said we needa be home by supper."

Sally glances at her brother and pouts.

"He singin'," she says.

Eddie catches your gaze. You wave awkwardly. He beams and winks at you.

Lord, you're hungry for this man.

"I'll sing again tomorrow, Miss Sally," Eddie tells her sweetly, and drops a wrapped caramel into her tiny palm. "Any song you want. Alright?"

Sally seems to find this trade acceptable and holds Eddie's knee to stand. She walks to you and gives you a quick hug, then leaves with her brother.

"We wanna hear another song!" one boy shouts.

"Yeah, play it!"

Eddie looks at them, and you can tell his resolve will slip. Horses and kids, his only weaknesses.

"Y'know, last I checked, school isn't over," you say, brow raised. "Don't y'all have somewhere to be?"

They turn to you with wide eyes.

"Don't tell Teacher, please!"

You tilt your head at the door. "Then you'd all best get a move on, hm?"

They scramble for the door and you only feel a little guilty at the empty threat. But then Eddie stands, body long and lean, and you don't feel so bad.

"You run a tight ship, peach," he says, striding over to you.

He's always dressed in black. You've never seen him in any other color. If you'd been given any good sense, you might take that as a warning. Might heed the whispers that fly through town every time Eddie returns.

But you hadn't come into this world with any damn sense, and you don't intend to find any now.

"I've got to when Mr. Hellfire's in town," you say, leaning back on your hands. "You've made quite the reputation for yourself."

"Oh, I know," he purrs, leaning in close. "Brave girl, going toe-to-toe with the no-good devil that sweeps through."

Your heartbeat soars at Eddie's honeyed voice. He lightly presses his mouth to yours; barely a kiss. It leaves you breathless all the same.

"Ed—" you start, reaching for him.

Eddie takes your wrists in his hands, rubbing the insides with his thumbs, one leg between yours.

"Hm, baby? Whatcha need?"

"Want you to—"

He tilts his head. You anxiously look around, not wanting the innkeeper or anybody to catch you tangled up with the one person you definitely shouldn't be.

"Go on," Eddie says, breath tickling your neck. "My brave girl's gotta ask for what she wants."

"Want you to–to love on me."

"Ain't you sweet," he whispers, gently cupping the back of your neck. "Well, since my brave girl used her words so nice, of course I'll give her anything she wants."

[denimbex1986]

'The Barbenheimer (a hybrid of Barbie and Oppenheimer movie titles) phenomenon has dominated pop culture for months, and it's only ramping up further as both films finally approach their July 21 premiere date.

While fans have been going wild with memes, merchandise and continuous social media commentary about the upcoming Box Office clash, the cast of the movies have been loving the blockbuster battle between their films.

In fact, most of the casts from both project have shared plenty of praise for their release day rivals - though Oppenheimer director Christopher Nolan has hinted that he won't be watching the other movie at all amid his feud with Warner Bros.

Greta Gerwig's Barbie sees Margot Robbie star as the eponymous Barbie doll alongside her boyfriend Ken, played by Ryan Gosling.

The cast is a who's who of Hollywood powerhouses, with Will Ferrell playing the CEO of Mattel, and Helen Mirren as the film's narrator.

In comparison to the bright and playful Barbie movie, Nolan's Oppenheimer sees Cillian Murphy star as titular nuclear physicist J. Robert Oppenheimer, who created the atomic bomb during World War II.

Florence Pugh, Rami Malek, Josh Hartnett, and Sir Kenneth Branagh (who worked with Nolan on both Dunkirk and Tenet) are just some of the big names who also star in the movie.

When Greta was asked by The Hollywood Reporter to share her thoughts on the Barbie vs. Oppenheimer rivalry, she replied: 'It’s all love — double up, double up twice.

'I think you’ve got to see what the experience is, Barbie then Oppenheimer, Oppenheimer then Barbie. I think you’ve got to take all of the journeys.'

Issa Rae, who plays President Barbie, admitted to the publication: 'I think the Barbie and Oppenheimer rivalry is hilarious; I love that there’s solidarity though where people tried to pit us against one another but now it’s turned into a double-feature situation. Obviously you should see Oppenheimer first and then cleanse your palate with Barbie.'

She then explained why she insists on watching Nolan's film first as she continued: Why would I want to depress my weekend… it’s about an atomic bomb, people are gonna die.

'I want to end my weekend, I want to have mimosas and drinks and cocktails after Barbie, I don’t want to sulk. That’s just my plan, I don’t know about anybody else. As long as you’re seeing Barbie I don’t care.'

As for Barbie herself, Margot Robbie, made her show of support when attending a fan event Sydney, Australia.

In a video posted by username @mjcookie on Twitter, the actress was asked to sign a customized t-shirt featured a photo of Robbie in her Barbie costume and a cowboy hat enmeshed with a black and white photo of Cillian Murphy as Oppenheimer.

'Ok I have to sign it on this side and I hope you meet Cillian Murphy and he can sign the other side,' she quipped.

Meanwhile, at the London premiere, the actress revealed that she was tempted to make her own Barbenheimer shirt and getting Cillian Murphy to sign it.

The response to Barbenheimer from Nolan has been significantly different. When asked if he has seen the rival film, his answer was a curt 'No'.

And it isn't likely that the director will be watching the movie anytime soon due to his recent clash with Warner Bros.

After releasing many of his hit films with the movie studio, a dispute over the release of his 2020 flick, Tenet, saw him part ways with the company.

According to Insider, sources believe that Nolan was upset that Warner Bros. scheduled Barbie for release on the same weekend as Oppenheimer.

He was allegedly unimpressed due to the fact mid-July has been known in the movie business as Nolan's weekend for years.

However the director has publicly claimed that the competition is 'terrific.'

'Summer, in a healthy marketplace, is always crowded, and we've been doing this a long time,' Nolan told IGN.

'I think for those of us who care about movies, we've been really waiting to have a crowded marketplace again, and now it's here and that's terrific.'

Oppenheimer star Cillian Murphy also sees the double booking as a positive thing.

'I think it's great. I mean, I'll be going to see Barbie, 100 per cent. I can't wait to see it,' he told IGN.

'I think it's just great for the industry and for audiences that we have two amazing films by amazing filmmakers coming out the same day. You could spend a whole day in the cinema, what's better than that?'

When a picture of Gerwig and Margot posing with tickets for Oppenheimer was shared online, Murphy returned the favor and posted an edited snap of 'him and Nolan' with tickets to the Barbie movie.

His co-star Matt Damon shared a similar sentiment while talking to Vanity Fair as he stated: 'People are allowed to go see two movies in a weekend. Oppenheimer is one of them!"

When the publication then brought up the fact that Damon has four daughters that might be more interested in seeing the famous Mattel doll brought to life, he replied: 'I'll have to ask them that. If that's the case, they'll see two movies that weekend!'

Elsewhere, one movie superstar who doesn't even star in the movie has also shown his love for summer blockbuster battle.

During the Australian premiere of Mission Impossible, Tom Cruise revealed his plans to see both films on their opening weekend.

Speaking to The Sydney Morning Herald: 'I want to see both Barbie and Oppenheimer. I’ll see them opening weekend. Friday I’ll see Oppenheimer first and then Barbie on Saturday/

'I grew up seeing movies on the big screen. That’s how I make them, and I like that experience. It's immersive, and to have that as a community and an industry, it’s important. I still go the movies.'

Both Oppenheimer and Barbie will be released in the U.S. on July 21, and the world's largest cinema chain AMC Theatres has reported that more than 20,000 people have bought tickets to see both movies on the same day.'

[countrymusiclover]

31 - We’re So Done For

Part 32

Country Rancher

Tags @whateverthecostner @rosie-posie08 @kaycejdutton @kayceduttonn @kcloveswrestling @the-morning-star-falls @kaymudd @hcwthewestwaswcn @hcllfireandhclywater

“Bree, look at me. Please tell me what the hell he is talking about?” My daughter finally met my gaze, muttering the words I never expected to hear from her mouth, causing me to see my own life flash before my eyes. “I’m…pregnant.”

“Dad is going to kill me, mom!” Bree blurted out pacing back and forth in the barn.

Carter ran his fingers through his hair, his chest heaving up and down in a panic attack alongside her. “What am I gonna do? I’ll be kicked off the ranch for sure.”

I remained frozen in place, not sure what to say to her. She wasn’t even in high school yet and she was pregnant. When I found out I was pregnant with her I at least was completely out of school. Granted I didn’t go to college because we moved to Montana. Rip and Beth were gone so Carter would be facing the full wrath of my husband. “Mom, what are we going to do. Please don’t let dad hurt him.” My daughter begged, grabbing my hands in hers.

Shaking my head I was finally pulled back to reality knowing I needed to say something to the teenagers. Because they were terrified out of their boots. “Okay you two listen this is what we are going to do. You two don’t say a word to anyone about this. We’ll find the right time to tell him, I promise that. Now go get ready for bed.”

Bree nodded, wiping away some tears exiting the barn. Glancing back over my shoulder Carter just blankly stared at me. “Mrs. Dutton, I just need to say again how sorry I am. We just got carried away but I will leave this place if that is what you want-“

“Carter stop.” Holding up my hands I cut him off not thinking anything like that. “That isn’t even close to what I want you to do. In my experience if you run when she needs you the most it won’t end well. So I beg you not to run. I’ll handle her father, you don’t need to worry about it.” Turning on my heels I tipped my hat to him heading back to the main house. The wooden floor creaked underneath my boots as I tossed them at the edge of the bed.

Footsteps approached behind me where I felt familiar arms wrapped around my waist. “Hey baby, everything okay?” Kayce asked, nuzzling his nose into my hair until I turned around in his embrace.

“Yeah I uh…just got to thinking we should go to the East Camp for awhile. You know, move our stuff up there. It would be good for the kids to maybe have their own rooms to themselves. Instead of having to bunk with each other.” I explained biting my lip. I hid the lie in the back of my mind.

He nodded while I draped my arms over his shoulders, leaning up and kissing him before he spoke softly. “What brought this on Y/n. We just took them to the fair today. Has something happened?”

“No, no, everything is fine.” I shook my head, needing to play it cool otherwise he would figure it out. “Can we just please go check out the cabin this weekend?”

Kayce nodded tugging me down to climb into the bed. Snuggling into his chest I lay my head down. He wrapped his arms around my waist whispering in my hair with my mind flashing back to the night we had a fight.

“Kayce, please don’t do this. I need you right now.” I begged him standing in the driveway of the Dutton ranch. I was only a few weeks pregnant and he just told me that he had gotten a girl from his high school pregnant too.

The young cowboy slumped his shoulders in frustration. “Y/n, I’m going into the Navy to make money. Since I can’t go to college now-“

“But you’re doing it to help her aren’t you!” I raised my voice, throwing my hands out from my sides. I hadn’t told my parents or even John yet. “You’re choosing her over me. You lied to me when you said that it was only you and me!”

Kayce started to say something but he saw me start crying a lot. He softly wrapped his arms around me, hugging me into his chest. I clutched the fabric of his jacket crying into his shirt until I remembered what he was about to do. “I can’t do this, Kayc. You’ve made your choice…now I’m making mine.”

“Y/n, just wait.” He called my name watching me run inside the main house slamming the door in his face. Sobbing on the floor behind the door I secretly glanced over the window seal seeing him staring at me for a second. That was the last time we saw each other for eleven years.

Opening the door to the wooden cabin I smiled seeing the twins running between my legs heading all through the house. Kayce sat down some of the boxes on the kitchen table. Closing the door behind me my gaze shifted to Bree who was texting on her phone most likely Carter. “Hey Bree, let’s go pick out your room yeah.”

“So did you tell dad yet?” She followed me down one of the hallways before we both headed inside one of the rooms with the window having a view of the wood line.

Resting my hands on her shoulders I knew she was stressing over this. “I haven’t told him anything. You don’t have to worry. He won’t find out I guarantee that-“

“Y/n. Why did I find a pregnancy test in one of the bags?” Kayce called out to us, making me and Bree both turn white. Cracking the door opened we both tilted our head into the hallway seeing him holding the test Bree had taken before we left showing me it was true. “Darling, are you pregnant again?”

Bree turned to look at me like a ghost knowing we were in deep trouble. “We’re in trouble now.”

- A little short for an update but the next one will hopefully be more exciting ❤️ Comments really appreciated

[dem-obscure-imagines]

Growth Spurt

Jedediah Smith x Reader

Fandom: Night at the Museum

Summary: When a battle breaks out at the Smithsonian, you need all the help you can get. Your magic, however, has a mind of its own.

Note: Takes place during NATM 2. I’m a little out of my comfort zone on this one, so let me know what you think lol. I might be willing to write a part 2...?

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 1.3k

Reader is: Female

This was bad. Very, very bad. At the moment, you were in Washington D.C. Ahk’s brother was crazy, apparently, and he was recruiting all of the powerful villains he could possibly assemble, and he wanted to, basically, use the tablet to rule the world. Add to this the fact that he had captured Jed and stuck him in an hourglass.

Add to THAT the fact that he had snatched your family amulet from around your neck…you figured the man must have a death wish. If only he knew what he was messing with.

And yet, the forces he had assembled were too great for you to comfortably overpower without the rest of your friends present, so you figured it was best to keep your powers a secret, even if only to preserve the element of surprise.

“You got this, partner. I know you do.” Jed put his little hands against the glass, his eyes sad, but hopeful. “I’ll be fine. Go.”

“But—”

“Go!”

“Come on,” Larry gave your arm a tug, and though your eyes lingered on poor little Jed, trapped there in the glass, you followed after Larry.

It was an odd friendship you shared with Jed. He flirted with you, you laughed. It was impossible. He was about an inch and a half tall. And yet, the flirting never stopped and he never hesitated to remind you of your beauty, especially when you doubted yourself the most. You were powerful and he admired you for that, but he also loved your laugh, your smile…he knew it was silly and that there was no chance of something serious between the two of you, but that didn’t seem to prevent him from trying…

Amelia caught up with the two of you easily and you caught her up on the situation at hand.

You checked in with a Theodore Roosevelt without a body, but he didn’t have much to contribute to the situation. Neither did the Thinker. And so, the three of you headed out across the campus in search for answers. If not, Jed’s hour in that hourglass would be his last.

“So, this cowboy friend of yours, are the two of you…?” Amelia asked.

“Are we what? Dating?”

“Yes, that. You care about him, that much is clear.”

“I mean, yeah, but it just wouldn’t work out.”

“And why not?”

“He’s a miniature.” Larry explained. “He’s about two inches tall.”

“Oh!” She laughed. “Well, that would complicate things, now wouldn’t it?”

“You can say that again.” You thought for a moment. “Hey, weren’t there some Einsteins in the Air and Space Museum? I bet they’d be able to help.”

Larry snapped. “Good thinking.”

So, after a brief chat with the Einsteins, the three of you took the Wright Brothers’ plane and crashed it through the window of the building Kahmunrah had set up base in. Amelia ran to get help and you hopped off of the plane and took refuge behind a pillar, watching as Larry argued with Kahmunrah, wracking your brain for something, anything, some spell that would work to get Jed out of that hour glass.

And then it clicked.

It was a longshot, and you knew that, but if it worked…

As soon as Larry got the hourglass, you called out, “Over here!”

“Sparkle Fingers!” Jed lit up.

Larry threw the hourglass to you and you caught it, flipping it so the side Jed was trapped in was on top.

“Seize her!” Kahmunrah shouted.

You booked it as fast as you could down the hall and around a corner, listening as Kah’s guards passed, and once they were a safe distance away, you exhaled a long breath.

“I knew you wouldn’t leave me in there.” Jed smiled softly up at you. “Alright, what’s the plan?”

“Well, there’s something my grandmother used to say. She said magic is really very simple; you just have to want something and then let yourself have it.”

“So…?”

“Hold still.” You told him, your power festering around your fingertips. You flicked it down and the purple rays shined through the glass, straight onto Jed.

“Hey, what is that?” Jed asked, somewhat fearful. “What did you do? I feel…weird.”

You bent down and set the hourglass on the floor, taking a few steps back and bracing.

Jed groaned, and then, all at once, the hourglass around him exploded as he grew to human size. He looked down at himself, holding his hands in front of his face as he moved his fingers. He kicked the pieces of the hourglass aside with his foot and looked up at you, his face awash in awe. “Holy smokes, Sparkle Fingers! I didn’t know you had it in you.”

You stared up at him, your eyes wide. You gulped. “Neither did I.”

“Well, I hope you’ve got some more in you. I have a feeling this night is far from over.”

You chuckled, “Me too.”

***

Once the battle was over and the dust had settled, Jed walked straight up to you, a nervous look on his face, his usual confidence dwindled now that he was standing face to face with you after all of this time.

“I…don’t know how much longer your spell is gonna last, so I’ve gotta do this now.” He said, taking off his hat and handing it to Larry, who was, understandably, shocked at the scene unfolding before him. Jed grabbed you by the hips and tugged you into a kiss, his lips exploring yours without hesitation. You kissed him back, your arms winding around the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

The rest of the museum exhibits, who had seen your relationship with Jed grow over the years cheered alongside your new friends, and when the kiss ended, Jed leaned his forehead against yours, smiling softly. His warm breath fanned across your cheeks.

He chuckled, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“Believe me, the feeling is mutual.”

“Oh!” He said, suddenly remembering something. He reached into his pocket and held up your amulet. “I believe this is yours.”

Your eyes widened and you stared at it. You were sure it had been lost when Kahmunrah had been pushed into the portal, but here it was, in perfect shape.

“You…how did you get it back?” You asked as Jed fastened the chain around your neck.

“Let’s just say Octavius and I have a few tricks up our sleeves.” He shrugged. “Speaking of…”

Octavius popped over the top of Jedidiah’s chest pocket. “Hello!”

“Hi, Oct.” You chuckled.

“At some point, I hope you feel so inclined to try that spell out on me.” Octavius said, causing you to smile. “If only to broaden my horizons.”

“When we get back to New York? Absolutely.” You promised.

Larry looked to Amelia. “Speaking of, Amelia, can you fly us home?”

“Certainly, Mr. Daley. It would be my honor.” Amelia nodded, grinning at the sight of you standing next to Jed.

He took your hand and pulled it to his lips, his fingers intertwining with yours. The whole flight back to New York, his arm wouldn’t leave your waist, and once you were finally back and inside the museum, Teddy had to do a double-take.

“Jedediah, my boy, is that you?”

“Had a growth spurt.” Jed shrugged, helping Octavius out of his pocket so he could get downstairs with the others. “And I feel like it’s gonna wear off soon…”

“Yeah…” You felt it, too. Your power slowly leaving him and you couldn’t do anything but watch as he shrank about an inch. And then another.

“Think I could get one more kiss for the road?” Jed asked.

You leaned forward and captured his lips with yours, kissing him one last time before the magic wore off, and when you pulled away, he shrank the rest of the way, back down to his normal size.

“Thanks for the adventure, Sparkle Fingers.” He saluted up at you from his spot on the floor.

“See you tomorrow?”

He winked. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

[messwriting]

Written for The Smut Pile Collab: Western AU | MASTERLIST HERE.

(i'm gonna make you) feel it

a.k.a. ✨ MAKKI’S ADVENTURE TIME ✨

Hanamaki “Big Tease” Takahiro x Female Reader

Rating: E for explicit | Don’t read this if under eighteen.

Warnings: Porn With Plot. Corruption Kink. Reader’s engaged to be married - a bride. Cheating. Highly inappropriate touching and dancing moves (that’s their job tho). Alcohol. Completely unresearched strippers industry. Lowkey exhibitionism. Fucking in a public space (private room). Fingering. Oral sex. SMUT: Doggy style over a sofa. Makki’s a little shit. Overuse of the word “cute” (for real, so many times omg). 

Word count: ~7.3k

Note: Saint Dymphna and poor little me would like to introduce you all to the:  🤠 LAWBREAKERS MULTIVERSE 🤠

So, @dymphnasprose​ basically came at me with: “what about we take cowboys and make them skskskskskssk like magic mike style strippers” and thus was born the wicked duo newest adventure. We had a lot of fun (and a lot of panic) but here it is!  Anyone asks why I’m doing two once again it’s also dymph’s fault and my sheer love for Iwaizumi. Also, dymph I love u and I’ve had lots of fun doing this little group project together🥺💕

That being said I’d also like to thanks @mixedhell  who once again is a mage of dialogue and helped me several times; Tay, my love @deathcab4daddy​, who helped beta part of this and also @xmyshya​ who was kind enough to beta this too <3

Makki’s songs: Cowboy Casanova (dymph’s courtesy) + Feel it 

You can also read: IWAIZUMI | MATTSUN 

Hanamaki is focused.

He surveys the screaming crowd inside the packed nightclub, sees the different groups occupying the big booths, the pretty decorations that never fail to distinguish his targets inside the dimly lit room. 

Makki likes the meaning behind the different outfits and colors; the details merging into the allegory of remarkability, crafting the idea of uniqueness in their special day where screams of freedom swimming inside intoxicated heads build a tendency into wildness. In building lasting memories of a singlehood that doesn’t really exist anymore, into falling prey of sexy, large men who could take them into a one-time intoxicating memory that they can savor into the end of times.

Marriages can end, Makki thinks, but memories like the ones he makes are forever.

And tonight he has already found the one. 

You must be the prettiest little thing he has seen in months, all beautifully clad in a sparkling white party dress, a sexy slit that shows the classical frilly garter adorning your thigh, with a golden black banner that announces for the whole world that you’re taken, soon to be married and enjoying your bachelorette party. It’s almost a challenge, really. 

Great. That’s exactly how he likes it.

A brilliant and ridiculous white cowboy hat decorated to leave a tacky gown falling from your head is perched on the table where your small group sits, about eight women dressed in black and a beautiful entourage of bridesmaids if he ever saw one, but it’s you; cute, happy little you who blushed at the very first look at his partially naked torso when all Hanamaki did was pass by your table in his low cut jeans and open flannel shirt, a tilt of his cowboy hat made with half a mind to compliment the ladies until his eyes laid on you. 

Your bright eyes had shined with embarrassment at your interest, chest filling with a renewed pull of air at the mere sight of him, a burning in your face that he could notice even in the poorly lit room, flashing lights giving him just the best of peeks -- your plush lips punished by the row of white teeth that closed around the soft muscle and pulled. 

That was all he needed, the smallest of sights and still, the biggest of hints. 

You were going to be his tonight. He’ll taint that pristine white and you’ll beg for his every move, he knows it just as he knows the women will scream for him as soon as he steps on the stage.

And, in fact, that will be sooner rather than later. 

He’ll make sure of it. 

The loud music is pulsing through his body, like waves crashing against his skin, his heart seemingly beating alongside the bass in deep, sexy strokes of the R&B music echoing through the club. The youngsters are doing their dance, a coordinated thing between the six newbies of the Club, while Makki and Mattsun wait by the side of the backdoor of the stage, ready to take their places in the next performance. 

“Anyone in your sights yet?” Issei asks him as he passes him the bottle of water, which Takahiro puts on top of one of the structures before sending a small grin at the dark-haired man. They’ve been here for four years now, and they have joined the place together, looking to make a good buck while going to College. Stripping is fun, easy, and profitable when you’re young and hot and Matsukawa and Hanamaki are nothing else but. 

“The one by the left, the table with the tacky cowboy hat and the golden balloons.”

“A fan of the work, I see.” Matsukawa pulls the curtain to the side just an inch, his eyes quickly surveying the space and centering on the acquired target. Makki knows exactly what he’s seeing, a table filled with a group of beautiful women and you in white shining over them all, the balloons above the wall seeming way more ridiculous once he knows about Makki’s plan of action. 

One dick for life. Ha. 

“Poor little thing doesn’t know what she’s in for tonight.” Mattsun’s grin is mischievous and all-knowing. Hanamaki has a type, it’s a running joke, but every good joke starts from a glimmer of truth. And in Makki’s case, it may as well be the truth itself. 

“And that’s a sexy little group.”

“Yeah, it is. But you already have plans for tonight, don’t you. I’ve heard about it from Oikawa.”

Mattsun doesn’t answer, only a chuckle and a lopsided grin marking his face as he keeps studying the crowd.

The group performance wraps up quickly, being one without public interaction and soon enough Oikawa is making a show, threading between the public with his mic, hyping the crew out with just the right few words. 

The lights start going down, softly casting the audience in shadows while the stage is tinged in bright colors before becoming red and by the time people’s eyes are focusing at the center again, Hanamaki and Matsukawa have taken their places.

The music starts to play, soft and calm, pulsing through the bodies of everyone as their eyes focus on the attractive duo in center stage. They’re not supposed to end up naked yet, that’s saved for the end, but as the choreography flows, sharp hip movements, thrusting motions like ocean waves crashing on rocky shores, still get women screaming at the top of their lungs enough for it all to merge with the song as if it’s part of the original bass. 

Makki’s wearing a half-opened plaid flannel shirt with nothing under it, and he pops every remaining button open along to the song, the screams getting louder. His jeans are tight enough that every plane of muscle is noticeable, and his belt is black and striking, with a big, bull-shaped buckle. Later he’ll change his outfit to leather chaps and a vest, but right now, he’s more laid back. He looks good, he knows it, but the appreciation in your eyes as you coily drink his from from across the room is like a fucking golden star on his pride.

On top of his head, locked tight, it’s his pinched front cowboy hat. As Makki throws it in the air and catches in the middle of dancing, the screams engulf him from all sides. 

But everything else is fading to the back of his mind as his eyes find yours in the dark, the appreciative, enthralled shine in them not lost to Makki. Could never be lost to Makki, who holds onto it as if it’s a life-line; You’re interested.

Ok, that’s good. But it’s also the basics.

Makki twirls and fall on the floor, hips fucking into nothing as the crowd goes insane. He kneels on stage, his shirt flying to the spectators; two women take hold of it, pulling in contrary directions until it rips.

Makki throws you a wink, every woman in that direction claiming it as theirs. You, however, shrug into yourself, eyes looking away as your hands tight their hold around the champagne glass they’re holding. You’re so cute, hands in front of your face as if that would keep you from staring. Makki feels himself glowing, growing excited at the mere sight of your scurrying eyes as they choose the floor instead of his body. 

So fucking pure. 

Takahiro wants to force you to look up and revel in the guilty desire he’s bound to find there. There’s no need to avoid him if he doesn’t charm you, that’s the beauty of soon-to-be brides. There’s such a deep will inside them to be faithful to the allegory of a husband they do not have yet, lost in a daydream of happiness in finding the one when they haven’t even tasted anything but. Makki eyes the golden balloons floating around the table while he dances -- one dick forever. 

Poor little thing. He can’t let that happen, can he?

When Makki hops off the stage and walks over to your table between deafening screamings and pleads for him to take them, instead, his hand closes around your dainty little one, adorned with pretty french nails and just a single golden ring and even the soft, smooth skin of your hand against his rugged palm is a thrill inside his veins.

Your eyes are shining, nervousness sweeping from them as they lock with his. Hanamaki tries to be lowkey, giving you a reassuring smile supposed to be nice, to be trusting -- a complete disconnect of the way his guts stirs in the excitement of your touch. 

He lowers his lips to your ears, pretends the way his nose runs over the shell is a mere accident. “Let’s go for a ride, sweetheart.”

Your lips fall open by the side of his face and Makki can feel the way you suck a breath, a little gasp ruining your efforts when he lets his lips brush against your jaw. Another accident, whoops. He’s such a careless boy, isn’t he?

Your teeth punish your bottom lip as your eyes seem to look anywhere but him, trembling hands as you seem half-way into telling him no. Makki can't have that, though. He brings his face to look deep in your eyes, a lopsided smile he can manoeuvre into being just the right amount of kind by now. 

"You're not gonna let me go up there alone, will you?" He almost pouts, big hands finding their way on your arms in up and down motions that drag just the right amount of trembles from you for him to know he's winning. "There's no fun without you, sweet girl."

He dips his lips onto the shell of your ear once again, just in time to hide his mischief. "You're the star of the show. I'm just your ride." 

That seems to make you giggle and Makki uses that to bring his grin into your view, palms sliding down your arms to clasp your hands and - finally - guide you up with him.

One thing Makki knows is that he likes his brides sweet. 

Pliant. 

And as you get up and follow him quietly and sheepish, clumsy tripping over yourself when some of your bridesmaids erupt in cheers, he knows he is right once again -- you’re just his type. 

Thing is, Makki doesn’t waste time. He makes you twirl in your high heels just to have you falling in his arms, he picks you up without effort, a little gasp breaching your lips as your hands plant against his chest.

Makki just has to grin at the way in which you close your palms and retreat them back to yourself, quick, burning up in a beautiful, delicious expression of shame. Fuck, he wants to make you beg. 

When he’s at the stage, he drops you on your feet with enough aggression to get you to slide straight to the floor, unsteady knees opening under you until your ass is planted on the stage. 

Makki thinks your open mouthed expression, little breaths breaking through your lips as your anxious eyes stare up at him, have to be the best thing he’s seen in a while. And he’s just starting.

He bends at the waist, his hands to reach your knees and push them open, your bright little white dress sliding up so much he can steal a peek at your fancy underwear. 

Such a vixen, aren’t you? All wrapped in lace. 

Makki lets himself fall on top of you and you gasp, even as he stays holding himself in a plank, not one bit of skin touching yours. The song is pumping, slow and sexy even if the screams sound louder in the close space. He twists his hips, the rolling motion has them right between your juicy thighs. You’re forced to keep them wide open and the way in which you look mortified just may be what ends him. 

Makki drops his knees in the ground, lets the screams wash over him as he drags his hips against your center, soft, then hard. His hands by the side of your head, his toned chest right in front of your face. He knows by the way his skin burns that you’re staring at him -- good, he wants to be the center of all your attention tonight.

Your hands are in front of yourself as if you’re afraid at your own excitement, eager eyes looking for his in a wirlwind of emotions and it makes his fucking skin erupt with goosebumps that the most noticiable one is desire.

Oh, Makki’s going to wreck you. The song turns frantic just as he comes to slide over your body, nose trailing along your collarbone and chest, teeth nipping at your clothes as if he would prefer to be doing it to your skin instead, and he feels the way your shame almost consumes you, body shaking as he finally reaches destination: right above your beautiful open thighs, so close he can almost taste you.

Unfortunately, it doesn't last. And Makki is forced by the choreography to climb back up your body even as he lets his hands linger a bit too close to your clothed center, every woman around screaming as if they can read his mind.

He gets back up and kneels between your open legs, thrusting in time with the music as if he’s actually still thinking about choreography and not in doing this to you later. You’re growing more embarrassed by the moment, your whole body burning and tense, but responsive to his movements and, better yet, his smiles.

His body is used to the motions, to swirling and grinding and thrusting in a wave motion, crashing over your hips time and time again until your lips fall open, and he knows he hit the jackpot.

Makki holds himself in a plank again, his skin turning clammy with the exertion, but he angles his crotch just right and has you singing a groan for him again -- then turning bright with shame in sequence.

Such a precious little thing indeed.

The ground choreo ends way too soon for Makki’s wishes, but he’s soothed by the way in which you let yourself be picked up, hands clinging to his shoulders with such a fierce hold he almost wants to test it out. He throws you up for a moment, relishes in your nails at his back, and his forearms hold you by the underside of your knee, closing on your hips. 

And that makes your pretty little clothed cunt roll right against his semi-hard on. There’s a ripping sound, probably your slit getting wider to acomodate your open legs and thus, him.

Lovely.

Makki rolls his hips, right against your center once, and the crowd erupts in screams just as he starts mimicking fucking you standing. A beautiful option he saves in the back of his mind for later. 

You let out a yelp, then proceed to try and hide your head against his neck, your pretty mouth gliding against his skin gives him such a high he almost loses the tempo of the song. He tells you to hold on and plants his hands on your bare ass, lifting you until he can have you in front of his face, a bit uncomfortable move but one that has every single woman in the club wet -- it’s in the air by now, and he can smell it. The idea makes his skin prickle, your hands holding his hair for dear life as if you’re afraid to fall, but your clothed cunt is right there, and he can’t pass the opportunity to steal a little touch as he pretends your hold is what pushes his head flush against your pussy. 

You let out a beautiful sound almost in time with the song, and he is letting you fall once again on his arms, the smile on his lips the last nail on your pure coffin.

And unfortunately that means time’s up.

Makki lets your legs fall but holds you by your waist, depositing you on your own two feet at the stage and snickering at how your legs falter to hold you up on the high heels. So, as a gentleman, he takes your hand in his, helps you down the few steps on the stage, almost groans at how your hand seems to not want to let him go. 

Before he leaves you, he pulls your hand into his lips, absolutely glowing at how breathless you look from the little action after he literally ravished you on stage. It physically pains him that he needs to pick up another bride into his show. 

“See you later, pretty one.”

Under you, your legs are faltering, knees trembling like a newborn deer as you’re left alone to fend for yourself in the long path back to your table. Women congratulate you, screaming on your sides at the men who was almost fucking you dumb on stage and his friend, as they continue their show.

Your heart is beating in your ears, leaving you stupid and lost as you’re finally - finally - rescued by your friend, who brings you back to the table with loud congratulations and happy cheers. You feel your body sweating and throbbing, weirdly pulsating for something you can’t name. 

Recognizing it would make it real and you cannot believe that after five years in a nice relationship with your only boyfriend and soon-to-be-husband, this is the first time you feel this wet.

You plop down on the closest seat, hands pressing to your chest as you try to both fan yourself and hide behind them. It proves, as expected, a hard task.

Your childhood friend has arrived and you hug her sideways, the short conversation you two exchange somehow lost to your poor heated brain as your eyes keep sliding to center once again at the stage.

The way he dances on stage feels overwhelming, this bride-to-be suffering way less touching and grinding than you, as “Big Tease Makki” stays standing up, his hands groping everywhere in his sculpted body as he dances to the sensual song, including the considerable bulge in his pants.

Something flashes and he turns his head your way so sharply you feel the need to melt further on the sofa, poorly hiding away as everyone around you cheers once again.

 His eyes on you were burning a hot trail that slithers over your warm skin even in the dark, the ghost of a feeling of touch, erupting goosebumps along their way as they circle your neck and dip down your side, strutting over your chest to end by your face. Even in the distance, you swear you can feel the way those lips slip into an easy grin, satisfied at the way they have you breathless and weak by thought alone.

The idle chatting of your friends, excited and drunk are dulled by the pounding of your heart inside your chest, and you feel constricted by their presence on your sides at the booth, both ways filled with testimony to your inner turmoils-- can they see your sinful thoughts while they stay that close to you? Can the pounding of your heart and the heat in your face be felt at such a short distance? 

The mere idea that they can pry inside your skull and discover the sinful dreams unfolding is too much for you right now, your spine shooting up while you balance yourself in your pretty heels and ask in a meek, nervous voice for the girls to let you pass. Some ask if you need help or if you’re going to the bathroom, and in both options it feels like you’re going to be flanked immediately, so you deny it and say you have to make a quick phone call about something you forgot to confirm and they all nod away, drunkenly squealing for you to be quick. 

You’re almost free when one of your bridesmaids, your childhood friend, looks up at you with puzzled eyes.

“Hey, everything's okay?” She’s not drunk, only happily buzzed with sparkling wine, but her eyes are attentive when they lay on your face, worry etched in her brow as she looks for hints hidden in your dolled up face. 

“Yeah, just need to take a breather.” You give her what you hope is a reassuring smile even as sweat drips down your back, but the place is dark and loud and she lets you go without much prodding. The place is full and swarming with women, groups of men present but fewer, waiters clad in skimpy clothing as they work the tables full of drinks, shots and champagne. Some are flirtatious, charming smiles along with muscles as they sweep women off their feet and leave their wallets thinner; others are pretty serious, and the mysterious aura has their pull, the ecstasy of conquest working as an aphrodisiac. 

You pull past the bodies, feeling a bit light headed as your chest pounds and the booze traverse your body, clumsy steps on too-high-heels you’re not used to, but your bridesmaids had pushed you to wear along with screams to live a little and say hello to the last night before you’re a proper married lady. You’ve never really felt the weight of those words as the last two days, tasting for the first time the sweetness of night as you’ve never before. 

If brown, bored eyes make a appearance in your mind as you flee to the corridor leading to the private rooms and women’s bathroom, you’re quick to stop the train of thought before it leads down a muscular torso clad in a tight jeans with a firm ass and a hot, big cock that humped against you in every opportunity while he took you to the stage. 

A drop makes it way past your cunt lips to stain your fancy underwear and you groan, ashamed. You’ve never felt this unbecoming need before, the arousal so thick your breasts seem to be heavy against your ribcage, dress feeling too tight on your heated, oversensitive skin.

You’re reaching the curve left that will take you to the bathroom when big hands engulf your frame, palm over your mouth and you’re pulled inside one of the private rooms, too breathless to even make a sound.

“Howdy,” his voice sounds right by your ear, as you’re caged against a burly body and the closed, probably sound-proof door. “Got a fugitive here.”

“Uhh, sir, I--”

“Sir?” He laughs, head thrown back prettily as you drink the arch of his throat. “Oh my god, call me Makki, pretty one.” 

The petname makes you flush, tongue heavy and clumsy in your mouth around words. “Uh… Makki, I’m sorry but I, ah…” You fumble with your hands, avoiding touching him, eyes downcast as you try to also avoid even looking at him. It’s too much, he seems everywhere.

“You’re engaged? I can see that, love. You have a banner right there.” He sounds so nice, mischief and boyish glee as he stands way too close to you.

“Then you understand…”

“I understand this is your last night of freedom, right? The last chance for you to be bad,” He breathes against your jaw as he noses along your skin to your ear, his cowboy hat gliding softly against the side of your face, “To be wild.”

Your mouth opens and closes but not a single sound comes out, your brain completely lost to the science of mixing letters into words. All you can think about is how your blood seems to be galloping in your veins, the pounding of your heart so oppressingly loud the beat of the song seems to mimic it and not the contrary. 

You are lost to everything but the unbelievable feeling of painful arousal, so sharp and deep your bones seem to be melting out of their places and dripping into the outside by your cunt. 

“But,” Leaves your lips dumbly and Makki’s fingers silence you, his lips so close you can taste his every exhale, the flap of his hat managing to blind your vision to anything past his face.

“You’re going to be married to the exact same man forever, sweetheart. You can let go one night. One night for you to feel good.” Makki licks at your throat and your lips fall open with a shameless moan as you burn with shame. “Has he ever made you feel this hot, sweetie? Hm? Have you ever even felt like this? It’s your last chance tonight, right? Don’t lose it.”

Makki’s hands massage their way down your sides, grabbing at the flesh of your hips, brushing your ass, and you’re dead silent as you drool away in your panties. Unable to think, unable to speak, embarrassment clogging your throat together with an impossible, unacceptable yes.

“C’mon, sweetie, let me take care of you.” It’s a plea, and he knows your chest will hurt with the same need that is in his tone.  “Just this one time, so you can know what it feels like… how great it can be.”

“One time.” He promises you, earnest eyes boring into yours and, dumbly, enchanted, you nod… and agree.

Well, Makki ain’t waiting around for you to change your mind.

His hands loop around your thighs immediately, pressing you against the door until he can press his body between your open legs. The slit of your dress gives in just the little bit needed to allow his hips to make their way against your core, his lips busying themselves with planting kisses along the arch of your neck, teeth nibbling at the lobe of your ear, tongue gliding over the shell. 

His breathing is soft, but so close it feels like it engulfs the room, slithering inside your head and scrambling your thoughts. His crotch presses against your center enough to hold you high and open, one of his hands relieved of their place as it climbs your side and closes around your jaw, angling your head back until you’re trapped between his face and his chest. 

You shudder, eyes fluttering closed as if you cannot hold them open, and Makki feels his skin prickling, warmth spreading from his limbs to his chest and down his hips to center themselves at his burning length. You’re such a little vixen, all big eyes and open mouthed staring at him while he has hardly done anything.

He can barely wait to see how you’ll burn when he buries his face in your pussy.

Right now, though, Makki reigns in his excitement, fingers caressing your cheeks until your pretty eyes open up again, dazed. There’s just something about getting pretty little things like you to yield, to breathe out as his lips plant themselves carefully, softly, against your cheek, then the line of your jaw, your chin and your nose.

Every little kiss has you getting restless, trembling in his arms while your hands close around his shoulders, painful little welts that he loves to see. Such desperation. 

It’s really the best.

His lips press against the corner of your wobbling plush lips and you shudder, but they push it back, and when Makki finally decides to kiss you, you’re opening your mouth in your eagerness, tongue lapping awkwardly at his lips as he chuckles and decides it’s time to stop playing.

When he kisses you then, you gasp, precious little sound leaving you as if you had no idea you could even make it, and then you’re melting against him, pressing against his chest as his mouth works its wonders on yours, tongue circling, searching, sucking. He nips at your lips, steals all the short bits of breath from your lungs until you’re writing against him, pressing sinful hips against his crotch in such a desperate way it’s endearing.

The hand on your thigh dips further under your dress, finds the plush meat of your ass and engulf it in its palm, delighted at how inexistent is the small little thing you’re wearing and how fucking delicious it feels. His fingers dig into your bottom until you break the kiss to gasp at how easily he can slip his long indicator from your ass to your pussy.

It’s his time to lose his air at how fucking wet you are, ruined fancy panties and moist thighs.

“Oh god, look at that. Little bride is so wet for this cowboy.”

You make a face, lips pursing in an awkward turn and coily shifting to look down, appraising looks on his chiseled chest. “Okay this one was bad!” Makki offers with an easy smile, the hand on your neck dipping into your breasts, palms pressing on your chest as he turns his focus on circling the hard nipple through your clothes, closing around the plush meat until your offending honest little lips part once again to him. He can see in the turbilion of your eyes how you’re still swirling against guilt, holding back from him. 

“But can you blame me? Look at me.” He makes a mention with his head towards the big bulge straining his tight jeans, which have you unconsciously looking down, his hand sliding over your jaw to tilt your head up to meet his eyes, charming, easy-going smile in his lips. “Look at you.”

He rolls his hips once against your sex, feels the blistering heat even through layers of clothes but he’s done this enough to know exactly where to aim, having a moan escaping through the tight cage of your lips before you can hold everything else in by the lock of your teeth.

He can’t have that, though. He thrives on applause after all.

“Now, beautiful, I’ll need you to stop that right there.”  His fingers dip under you to slide against the soiled fabric clinging to your folds and you all but tense, melting after as if you cannot conceive how good is his mere touch. “I want to hear you, c’mon.” Your eyes drop on his in hurt, but you free your bottom lip, mouth imediatelly falling open around a groan as Makki presses aimless around the entrance of your sex. Damn, Makki likes this. 

“Yes, like that. You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?” His cock is straining against his boxers already, length rolling in perfect aimed strokes over the apex of your sex as his fingers thread on the outline of your beautiful cunt and when he dips inside a single fingertip, your sex and hands cling to him, all the beautiful curves of your body against his and he just-- He wants to see.

“Ok, dinner time!” Makki chuckles as he brings his hands once again to hold you firmly by your thighs, fingers spread enough to keep rolling against the edges of your cunt. 

“Wha-What?” You give a charming yelp at the way he holds you effortlessly while abandoning the door to walk over to the couch. It’s just a cheap upholstered thing in front of the circular stage with the pole hanging from the ceiling, but it’s just the perfect length for what he needs. 

He lets you fall, open and disheveled over it, legs spread to show the lace he saw earlier, stained and soiled after just a bit of makeout. 

“You’re so cute.” It’s mockingly, really; meant to be a jab at how you’re so hazed and undone by just a few moves of his, but the way in which your doe eyes thread up to him, shiny and unfocussed; your hands closing around your frame as a hand plants in front of your breasts is just… cute. There’s no other word. You’re just a cute little thing and he wants your demise.

 Makki groans and pulls you to the edge of the sofa by your legs, easily dropping between your thighs in a wave move, face planting itself on your breasts to suck at sweaty clothes, teeth pulling the fabric down until your nipples peek through and he sucks them inside his mouth, too. 

You tremble so easily, even worse when he abandons it to nose his way down your body tightly clad in the white dress, kisses over your belly until he’s nosing at your clothed cunt, open mouth kisses adding to the moistness in your poor underwear.

“Delicious.” Makki says for no reason other than to state his thoughts, tongue rolling over the clothed slit as if its skin, reveling in how your poor legs start to shake, needing the aid from his hands spreading them to finally stop. “Tell me, honey, have your fiancé ever fucked you good? Hm?”

The mention makes you stiff, head pressing to the side of the sofa as if you’re fighting a battle inside your own mind, triggered by the piece of trivia question.

“I bet he hasn’t,” Makki laughs, nosing at your pussy with such pressure his whole face gets smeared in your juices. “Is he your first boyfriend? Tell me more.”

 “I--how do you--” You stutter through bitten lips, truth tipping out once he easily spreads you open with his thumbs on each side. “Yes.”

“What a waste, such a wet fucking pussy and not one single effort from your hubby to-” Makki pulls your underwear aside, tongue lolling out to lick a long strip from your entrance to your clit, “lick”, once, it”, twice, “clean.” and thrice.

You let out a cute little noise and he gets impatient, pulling the lace at the side with enough force it rips easily under his hand. Your indignant noise doesn’t even sound right, lost in a moan at the way he closes his lips around your clit and brings his tongue to play with it fast. His hand presses harder on the skin of your thighs, leaving you open as a present, ripe and wide.

If Makki says he eats pussy as a fucking meal, it’s not out of vanity. He doesn’t like to stroke his own ego, it’s just the plain truth. He works his tongue around your cunt, licks at your puffy lips, slither his way over the labia, gathers all the dripping …. and lets it drip over your pussy, just to suck it up and spit on it, after all he never understood the whole don’t spit on the plate you eat. If it’s pussy, he’s sure it’s the fucking other way around. 

You’re writhing and moving around, a symphony of gasps and moans fighting their way past your tight lips. Makki doesn’t mind. As he brings his thumbs to stroke up and down the sides of your cunt, he knows you’ll be screaming in no time. It’s just too much. It’s clear you’ve never had anything like this just by the frantic way you’re humping his face, hands grabbing at anything and everything they can, unable to hold on. His only shame is how busy his mouth is, unable to tease his way into the pure debauchery you’re demonstrating.

He pauses a bit to angle himself back, eyes trained at your pussy, dripping fucking wet all over the dress and the sofa. His thumbs spread at the sides of your entrance, pull it open just to see it blink and gap, begging for his cock without a word leaving your lips. Shit. His cock is straining against the tight jeans in such a painful way he has to let one hand go, open his button and fly, let the poor warrior fight its way past the band of his calvin kleins.

Then he’s back at his work, one thumb keeping you open as his hand returns to plunge his indicator inside slowly. Makki’s mouth almost falls open at the bewitching way your walls give in, letting him sink inside the velvety wet inside with ease. You’re clenching around him, groaning above and begging below, so he lets a second one inside at the retreat and advance of his wrist.

“Have your little husband ever made you feel like this, huh? Have he eaten this little pussy so good you make a mess?”

“Jesus Christ!” You moan above and Makki laughs. He loves this. Loves the little religious bout he gets from tight little brides when they actually taste heaven amidst sin. You try to ride his fingers, but he presses the back of your knees higher, and you let out a breathless “God!” at the new angle.

Then he starts the real game, fingers moving around your heat in search of a specific spot he finds with little prodding and then abuses until you’re begging.

“Oh my god! I, fuck--Jesus!” 

“Yes, just like that sweetheart. If you beg for me real pretty I’ll give you what you want.” He says as his fingers keep plunging in and out of your heat in an upwards motion, strong but slow, dragging the feeling of his thick digits inside your walls. It’s close, he can feel it in the way you’re swelling around him, restless kicking out legs and praying for God as if it isn’t Makki who’s giving you all this.

“My name, sweetie. Beg for it, c’mon. Say it out very loud, how you want my cock to fuck you nice and hard as you’ve never had before, huh? Just--”

“Fuck!”

“Just tell me more how you had no idea it could be so good and how you need me to show you how fucking good a man can actually fuck.”

“Oh my god,” you all but yelp, but then sighs a, “yes, please.”

“Hmmm? Couldn’t hear you.”

“Oh fuck, Makki please fuck me!” There’s a breathless, outstandly maniac laugh breaching your lips after that, a flow of quick words falling from your lips as a train of thought, “Jesus I’ve never felt like this, oh my god I think I’ll actually die without--”

“There we go!” Makki laughs, voice loud as he stops everything to get up and once again bends down to pick you up.

“Wha--Wait!” You squeak, body tense and trembling at the loss as Makki only kisses around your tearstained face and makes his way around the upholstered couch. “Makki!” That has to be the needier, whinier tone he has ever heard his name in. 

And he loves it. 

He lets you slide through his hands, bends you over the back of the couch, your ripped panties sliding to the floor by one of your legs. One of Makki’s hands descends hard on your ass with a loud slap, your lips opening around a beautiful moan. The other does the same, both circling and massing the plump flesh as your ass and pussy blinks seductively at him. 

That does it. Makki curses as he pulls his pants and underwear down, his hard, bloody-red cock slapping up against his navel; he closes his hand around it to slap it between the crack of your pretty behind and feels everything in him tingling at how wanton you sound in your moan, angling your back so that your ass can climb higher, head against the seat cushions.

“Yes, baby, just like that.” Makki praises you as he tilts his cockhead on your slit, up and down, up and down against your clit, labia and entrance. It’s absolutely delicious how you clench to try and hold his cockhead, but it slips up to bob against your ass. “Ops, let’s try again.”

He does the same thing a second time but then you groan and whine once again, “Makki, please!”

Well, fuck, who’s he to deny you, right?

He pats your ass and supports his weight at the back of his feet, cockhead right against the beautiful hole weeping for him and, carefully, slowly, deliciously starts dipping inside. Your pussy sucks him in as a vice, muscle clenching and releasing; loud, satisfacted moans in your lips. It’s almost choking to him that the loud noise in the room comes from him, too, mouth falling open in a growl.

When his hips are nested against your ass, Makki has the urge to kiss you but squatches it down in favor of holding you strongly and fucking you throughly. Motioning himself in waves as he had on the stage, his cock slides in and out of you with such delicious, timed precision he thinks you’ll come twice on him before he’s done. 

Your tight heat is velvety wet around him, squelching sounds sinful in the room as he grinds his hips against your ass, cockhead nestled against the firm pressure of your cervix. There’s babbles tipping from your lips, as if your mind has broken and you have to pronounce your mess of thoughts out loud. It’s cute.

Maybe he'd appreciate it more if his mind wasn't falling him also; his whole body feels constricted, strained, hips rolling in long, deep, strong strokes that make his cock into a pleasure antena, broadcasting to his whole being, blistering heat spreading through his veins and turning sharp at his spine and to start pooling at his balls. 

He is about to dip his hand to your clit and end you when your body seizes, legs kicking while dangling from the backrest of the couch and your pussy starts creaming hard like a vice around his cock.

“Fuck!” He groans, tensing his whole body before you bring him over with you, hand slithering to hold the base of his cock, hard. Then he laughs, no breath to spare. “Wow, baby, no heads up? Now you gonna have to give me one more, I’m not done with you yet.”

You let out an indignant groan, but rest boneless under him. Makki retreats his hips from your snug grip and starts pistoning his way inside your heat, unforgiving even as you yelp and whine, oversensitivity probably making you burn. Makki lets one of his hands let go of your hips and fall hard on your ass, in time to feel the way your pussy grips at him, yelp turning into a moan. Makki lets his hands slide down the side and curve his wrist so your fingers can find your clit, rubbing him frantically as he angles his hips just right, every wave of his body aimed against your precious spot.

“Yup,” Makki groans, growing exhausted. “Just like this.”

Your eyes snap open, hands frantically reaching to hold on anything by them as you look back at Makki with shiny, big, dazed eyes in absolute terror at the fact you are, indeed, going to keep cumming on his dick, second orgasm hitting you so hard and fast Makki actually tips over with you, the pressure in his balls releasing in one blissful climax at the incessant contracting of your cunt and the wave of your orgasm gushing out of your pussy in the closest thing to a squirt he could pull out of you amidst a unending orgasm.

Makki stays inside you as he rides his high, grinding his hips even as you cry from the oversensitivity. When he pulls out, he’s careful with the condom and also has half a mind to hold your body, throwing the used thing somewhere to be cleaned after. Almost as if perceiving the breach, his cellphone starts ringing somewhere, loud as fuck in the closed room.

“Damn, fuck,” Makki scrambles to the sound, his legs almost giving out under him and his fingers so numb it takes three tries to actually accept the call. Which he didn’t read who from. 

“MAKKI! WHERE ARE YOU, WE’RE STARTING IN FIVE.” Iwaizumi nags at him, stern and loud, piercing through his haze enough to make his brain drop some adrenaline into his bloodstream, suddenly alert and kicking, muscles straining but holding as he pulls his underwear and jeans quick over his ass and searches for his cowboy hat in time to dip and run to the presentation.

“Sorry baby, gotta go.” He saunters to you, plants a kiss on your sweaty head and another at your swollen lips and smiles the same sinful smile that ended up bringing you here, along with a tilt of his cowboy hat. “Duty calls.”

[bffsoobin]

Spurred On

↳ Every year you worked your uncle’s fair simply for the extra cash and free food. It was far from glamorous, but you’d long since decided the benefits outweigh the costs. That was until you were forced into tending to the massive, intimidating cows your uncle raised for show. Hopefully, the new ranch hand can ease some of your pain. 

➤ cowboy!yeonjun x reader, fluff, a lil angsty (you shouldn’t be surprised), they have tension but in a good way, suggestive, mutual pining, stereotypical Country Boy shit

Word Count: 8,102

Warnings: none other than some swearing and some making out (a little tiny bit suggestive)

A/N: I had absolutely no plans to write another fic anytime soon but seeing Yeonjun’s teaser possessed me so here I am to deliver a cowboy!Yeonjun fic I never ever knew I needed. And yes the fair mentioned is based off of the one I go to every year in my college town and the one that happens in my own home town every summer too okay don’t judge me shhhh

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•

Sweat was beading on your forehead, streaming down the sides of your face in an almost constant torrent as you wiped a wet rag over every cleanable surface you could find. Every summer since you turned 16, you had helped your uncle set up and run his annual fair. It was far from perfect, but the job gave you some extra cash to spend and copious amounts of fair food to eat to your heart’s content. This year, you had managed to secure a spot working at the funnel cake stand- which had always been your favorite- and a promise from your uncle that you would get to go on all the fair rides for free.

It was a very busy day, as there was only one more day to go before the grounds opened to the public. All day you had been cleaning and helping people who rented barns to show their livestock find the way in. From where you stood now, you could see the line of barns and the people bustling back and forth from them. Arguably the busiest man you knew, your uncle, was hurrying over to you with a slightly panicked look on his face. 

“Miranda went into labor,” he simply stated. If it were possible, he was even sweatier than you had become, with a thick layer of dirt on his hands and part of his face. 

“Okay...” you began, unsure of where he was going as you turned your attention back to wiping down the funnel cake machine. 

“So that means Steven can’t help me with the cows, an’ they’re here now and I can’t expect the new ranch hand to it all himself.” 

Blankly, you stared at him, still totally unsure why he was bringing this problem to you. 

“So that means I need you fill in for Steven for a few weeks. Working in the barn.” Your uncle prodded, gesturing behind him to the barn bustling with activity as the cows were being ushered into their hay covered stalls. 

“No!” You groaned, dropping the wet rag with a plop. “No, I had to fight with my sister to get the funnel cake spot and now you’re gonna demote me to cows?” This had to be some kind of sick joke. Your uncle sighed, laying a heavy hand onto your shoulder and squeezing. 

“Please, Y/N. Your funnel cake spot will stay open for you until Steven comes back, I promise. But for now, if you want paid, you have to go to the barn.” 

----

By now, you were used to the scent of a barn. Your uncle had been showing cows for as long as you can remember, and as a child you often spent time following his older kids around the barn and caring for cows. 

As you stepped in now, you found yourself cringing at the chaos. Although you had always worked the fair, you never came close to dealing with any of the livestock shows, especially involving your uncle’s own group of hulking animals. The barn was as nice as a barn could get, with layers of hay on the floor and pens lined with silver food and water buckets adorning each one. Handmade signs boasted the name and age of each animal so that visitors could learn about them. Most of the cows were already in their place, so you simply walked between the stalls, glancing at them absentmindedly. 

“Are ya lost?” A smooth, low voice asked. 

“Uh, no,” you began, a little bit annoyed at whatever probably middle aged man assumed you didn’t know what you were doing. Whoever had spoken to you was wearing sleek, all black cowboy boots with a pointed toe. They seemed to have been freshly polished; free of any scuffs or scratches although it was clear by a few wrinkles in the leather that the boots had been well worn. Intrigued by the idea that you didn’t know any of your uncle’s workers to wear all black boots, you quickly flitted your eyes to the man’s face. 

Long, pinkish-blonde hair fell around his shoulders, cascading down his back in slight waves. The black cutter style hat with silver detailing covering the top of his head made it a little tough to put together the full picture, but you assumed from the few loose strands framing his face that he was sporting a mullet. Simple silver hoops hung from both of his earlobes, glistening in the low sunlight inside the barn. His eyes were a captivating amber-brown with a sparkle of gold that you could only catch on certain angles. His eyebrows were a bit darker than the blonde of his hair, cluing you in to the fact that he had most likely bleached the tresses some time before. From his taller vantage point, he looked down on you over the perfect slope of his nose. He was remarkably younger than you’d expected- probably only a year or two older than yourself. You swallowed harshly. 

“Are you lost?” You quipped back, in disbelief at the vision of the man in front of you who had seemingly blended the usual, tired cowboy fashion you were so accompanied with alongside an alternative flair that made your heart hammer wildly in the confines of your chest. 

The man snorted out a laugh, short and low as he leaned himself casually on a wooden support beam. Underneath the fabric of his black button up, his muscles flexed and glided deliciously as he settled his body weight again. 

“No, I wouldn’t say I am. I work here, and although I just started around here,” he passed an unabashed look up and down your body that made you flush, “I wouldn’t forget meetin’ someone like you.” 

At a loss for words, you simply gawked at him as you tried to reform yourself. 

“I-uh, my uncle owns the fair, and the uh-the cows, and I got stuck working in here until Steven can get back. So I’m really just looking for-” 

“Oh, you’re Y/N? Your uncle mentioned he’d be sending someone to replace Steven.” He interrupted, arching an eyebrow lazily when you nodded. There was a slight smirk befalling his lips, the perfectly plump flesh twisting in his clear scrutiny of your words. 

Simply nodding your confirmation seemed to be good enough for him as he pushed his lean body off of the wooden beam and took two measured steps closer to you. The heels of his boots clicked loudly each time, only punctuating his current upper hand. He stuck his hand straight out in front of him, simply waiting for you to meet him halfway. 

When you finally did, you hoped he would disregard your clammy palm that only compounded upon feeling his perfectly calloused skin tight against your much less worn hand. 

“Yeonjun.” He simply said, pressing his fingers into you harder as you finally actually shook hands. The blunt press of his fingernails digging into the back of your hand sent shivers down your spine, mind jumping to what they would feel like raking down the sensitive skin of your back or down the inside of your thighs or between the strands of your hair or-

“You okay there?” Yeonjun questioned, dropping your hand to cross his arms over his toned chest. Caught red handed, you busied yourself with looking at the stray pieces of hay which had littered the barn’s floor before you answered with a meek yes. 

‘Well,” you finally looked back up to see that his eyes were still trained intently on your face. There was absolutely no way he hadn’t seen your blush by now. 

“I’m your uncle’s new ranch hand, so it’s gonna be me and you in here till Steven comes back.” 

At his words, you suddenly realized just how calm the once bustling barn had become, and you were sure that everyone who had helped bring in the cows had moved on to other tasks. It seemed that you and Yeonjun were the only two people left in the barn. He was still standing dangerously close to you, bodies just about a foot apart until you took a tentative step backwards. Your heart was beating double the normal rate, distracted by the absolutely perfectly crafted man you somehow ended up in the sole presence of. He simply watched you back away, never dropping the sly smirk as he watched you panic. Damn Yeonjun and his perfect looks and perfect charm.

Maybe you should go to your uncle and tell him that there was no way you could work alongside Yeonjun. You could easily make up some kind of story that the two of you didn’t get along, and that he would need to find someone else to help out until Steven could be back and-

“Look out!” Yeonjun suddenly called, eyes widening in the split second you could still see them. In all your thinking, you had continued to slowly back away from him, so lost in your own mind that you didn’t realize you were seconds away from tripping over a stray bucket and hitting your head. Which is exactly what you did.

The floor of the barn, although partially cushioned by hay, was harsh against the back of your body. Your head bounced with a sickening echo, coupled with the skidding of the metal bucket in the opposite direction, it’s contents of some feed spread out messily through the hay, some kibbles sliding into the pens of eager cows who bent to gobble up their extra snack.

Yeonjun appeared over you as soon as you could open your eyes again, pain shooting through your head and top of your spine- where your body had bounced the most.

“Are you alright?” Yeonjun pulled you up gently, laying a large, warm hand on your back to keep you steady. His eyes were still wide, roaming your face in quick succession to see if you had any physical evidence of pain.

“Just- uh- gonna have a headache, probably.” You supplied, head still spinning. Yeonjun frowned, continuing to roam his hands over the back of you body. Although you knew he was simply looking for injuries, a shiver ran down your spine at his delicate yet assured touch.

“‘Don look like you’re hurt too bad, but I’m sure you’ll bruise,” his voice had become more gruff since he began his examination. “C’mon,” was the only warning he afforded you before hooking one arm under your armpits, easily pulling your weight off of the floor where you laid. The other arm came to hook under your knees until you were laid bridal style in his arms. Instinctively, both of your arms flew around his neck, almost sending his hat flying with your haste. Up this close, you could smell the intoxicating mix of the whatever musky-vanilla cologne he had sprayed on, undercut by the faint smell of the outdoors that was much earthier and full. You barely took notice of where he was hauling you off to, more than content to stare up at the smooth, sharp plains of his face.

Shortly, the two of you arrived at what seemed to have been his goal all along- his impressively well kept Chevy pickup. It was sleek black, shining in the high noon sun as if it had just been polished. The tires were sporting a bit of mud- but it was much cleaner than the pickup of any other man around your town. Carefully, Yeonjun led you out of his arms and on to the ground, but not before holding both of his hands on your hips until you steadied yourself.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you commented as he swung open the drivers side door, giving you a good thirty seconds to marvel at the way his jeans stretched deliciously over the curve of his ass and fullness of his thighs. He was searching for something, rummaging through the center consol of his vehicle in intense concentration as you waited.

“Here,” he finally left the car, spinning back around to you smoothly and extending a small bottle of Advil in one hand and a water bottle, warm from the sun, in the other. “Take some of these.” You nodded, downing the two small pills with a little swig of the too-warm water. It was an uncomfortable feeling but you tired your best to mask it knowing that the cowboy was still keeping a close eye on you.

“I meant it, earlier. That you didn’t have to do that. Or this.” You waved vaguely to your throat to indicate the pills you’d just taken from him.

“Is’okay. Used to helpin’. Now are you gonna come back to the barn with me or should I expect to tough out the rest of the day alone?” Happily, you noted that the teasing inclination of his voice had returned. You assessed the pain in your head, carefully weighing his question before you decided that yes, you would come back to the barn with him.

——

The next morning you arrived at the fairgrounds, still fatigued from all the work you’d done the day before. Your feet ached deeply, seeping into the muscles of your calves even as you stretched your legs in every way you could think of. The temperature of the day had already risen to an unforgivable heat which blanketed your every move and had your thin T-shirt sticking to your skin with perspiration. Every step you took reminded you that the air was still and hot and unforgiving. Not to mention the still occasionally throbbing pain in the back of your head from yesterday’s misfortune. As you neared the barn, catching a whiff of the distinct scent of cows exasperated by the heat, you wondered if you’d finally gone insane.

And then you spotted Yeonjun, intently speaking to one of the largest cows your uncle owned as he brushed her, ensuring that her coat was nice and shiny for the visitors that would begin funneling in once the evening fell. He was dressed almost the same as yesterday, except he had swapped the traditional black button up for a simple white T-shirt, most likely due to the sweltering temperature. It was tucked perfectly into the waist of his belted jeans, slightly stained with dirt as evidence of his work so far. Every movement he made to brush at the cow defined the lines of his biceps, drawing your attention steadily toward his veined hands which you noticed had rings adorning them today. The silver metal matched the gleam of his earrings, shimmering in the streams of light that the sun provided.

Quietly you stood at the entrance of the barn, marveling at his physique and the way his voice filtered through the air until it collided with your ears. You held back a laugh as he began cooing at the cow, complimenting her for being so good as the animal chewed at some hay nonchalantly. His hair seemed less messy today, like he’d taken the time to style it despite the nature of his work. You would have been more than happy to stand at the entrance of the barn and silently watch him work, but life can be cruel.

“You see, pretty lady...” you heard Yeonjun continue talking to the cow as he put down the brush. “I would love to spend all day with you, but unfortunately I gotta lot to do around here. And Y/N...well she’s spent the last 5 minutes staring at me instead of stepping up to brush any of your friends.” Shock and embarrassment washed your nerves, and you were sputtering in an instant.

“I wasn’t just staring- I was, I was waiting until you were done so that I could ask-“

“Didn’t say I minded.” Yeonjun supplied calmly, finally fixing his deadly auburn gaze onto you. Fuck, how did he always look so good? Unabashedly, he swiped his eyes over your body, and although you would normally feel scandalized, you wanted nothing more than for him to look at you. For a moment, the two of you stared at one another from across the barn, appraising each other as your mind ran wild. A feeling akin to electricity sparked under your skin, as if you’d be connected to a live wire as soon as he took a calculated step closer to you. The heels of his boots clicked against the wooden floor with every step, punctuating just how slowly he was making his advance. You felt a bit like prey being stalked as your larger, more skilled hunter circled in on you, but you were far from complaining.

About a foot away from your now trembling body, Yeonjun stopped. Your heart was hammering so hard against your ribs that you assumed it was trying to escape the confines of your chest and jump to the floor.

“Here, you’ll be needin’ this,” he drawled, lifting the brush which he’d been using on the other cow up toward you. Carefully, you grasped the tool, pretending your digits didn’t shake when he purposely brushed the delicate pads of his fingers against yours. When he finally dropped his hand away, you cradled the brush close to your sweaty form and gripped onto it for dear life. Without another word, you hurried away from him to tend to the nearest cow. You needed a breather, to be honest. Too much Yeonjun could put you at risk for a heart attack if you weren’t careful.

For a while, it seemed as if he had vanished completely. It was easily to get lost in the simple work of brushing the cows, especially along with the low warbling tones of whatever country station the radio inside the barn had been set to. You were never one for country music, even considering your upbringing, but between the work you were doing, the oppressive heat and the yearning crush weighing on you, it just seemed right to listen to the twang of Jason Aldean.

When he came back, he seemed to materialize out of thin air. You had just finished up brushing the last cow and had moved on to rewriting some of their name tags when he shortly announced that he was back.

“Oh, hey,” you spoke meekly in the hopes to mask your excitement at his return. Cheekily, he grinned, showing off pearly white teeth and perfectly pointed canines.

“Missed me that much, huh?” He chided, brushing past you easily as he took in your improved handwriting on the tags. “Damn. Didn’t even know her name was Daisy. Your uncles’ writing had me calling her Paisly this whole time.”

A low hum of a laugh lifted into your throat as you nodded, focusing on the delicate loop of a J in the next cow’s name. There was silence for a bit, the only sound being the scratch of the chalk you were using to write.

“How’s your head?” Yeonjun asked, hazarding another comment that made your surmize he was trying his best to start a casual conversation. A smirk played onto your lips. In all your 20 years of living, you’d never had the pleasure of having the cat and mouse game being reciprocated.

“It’s okay, just hurts a little bit. I do have a pretty nasty bruise too.” You weren’t lying. The fall had created a large, purple-brown bruise on your lower back that extended slightly to your left ass check, where you must have taken most of the impact of the fall. Yeonjun fell silent, and you were a bit disappointed that he couldn’t come up with a counter as you focused on writing the next cow’s name. The aforementioned bruise had given you a little bit of a limp, and maybe you exaggerated it now in the two steps it took to reach the next pen.

“Need someone to take a look at it?” His voice was suddenly right behind you, tickling the hairs on the back of your neck until they stood up straight. How he had snuck up behind you without the tell tale sounds of his boots was beyond you. Even though you were already sweating, you welcomed the radiating feel of his body heat coming off of his chest in waves. Trying your best to keep your letters from becoming shaky, you hummed in thought.

“Looks and feels pretty much like a nasty bruise to me, Yeonjun. Dunno if I need a second opinion when the damn thing makes it hard for me to even walk. But if you’re so inclined,” you turned your head to make eye contact with him, subsequently catching him in the act of staring down at your ass. He didn’t even bother to stutter out an apology or excuse- just simply looked back up at you with his steady gaze. You remarked that his lips looked plumper than normal, almost raw, like he had been biting at them during some point in the day. He didn’t bother to take a step back; simply maintaining his close distance and waiting for you to make the next move. He had placed the fate of this interaction in your hands, and now you were free to play with him a bit. Slowly, you lifted the hem of the back of your shirt just enough that you knew he could see the blooming bruise in most of its glory. He took a small step back now, to appraise the full scale of the bruise that spanned from left to right across your body.

“Why the hell did you come back today sportin’ an injury like that?” His voice was gruff, punctuated with the same concern that you had heard yesterday when you fell. The pads of his fingers skidded carefully across the afflicted skin, touch so light that you almost missed it. Suddenly insecure and a bit overwhelmed by his touch, you dropped the hem of your shirt and turned just enough that his hands fell away from your back. 

“I didn’t want to leave you here all alone, and who knows how long it’ll take to heal? I promised my uncle I’d be here. Plus I kind of really need the paycheck, so...here I am.”

Eyebrows knitted, Yeonjun opened his mouth to make his next comment when the loud, familiar voice of your uncle busted through the relative silence of the barn. Yeonjun shuffled away from you quickly as if he had already been scolded. It hurt a bit, but you understood his hesitation in being caught in a possibly compromising situation with his employers niece. 

Yeonjun called back to him, walking briskly toward the entrance of the barn and leaving you behind to strain your ears in an attempt to catch any important bits of information. You could have sworn you heard your name being passed between the two men, but there was no way you could be sure from so far away. A welcome breeze passed through the barn, bringing your attention back to the actual job at hand although you could still feel the ghost of Yeonjun’s touch. 

----

About a week later, the temperature had plateaued to a pleasant level and brought along a fresh wave of visitors to the fairgrounds. All morning, the barn had been bustling with wide eyed children and experienced farmers who came to size up the competition. You were busy refreshing the hay inside of one of the pens when you heard Yeonjun’s smooth voice for the first time in a few hours. The barn had been so noisy and loud as soon as the grounds opened for the public that you hadn’t seen him since you arrived in the morning. Across the barn, he was entertaining a group of girls, all listening intently to whatever information he was spouting. They all had perfectly styled hair and legs to die for- stretching perfectly out of their cut-offs and practically begging for attention. The one closest to him was staring at his arms with no regard for how obvious she was being, and you were sure that every other girl in the half circle was ogling him in some fashion. You shouldn’t have been surprised, you guessed, since he made you feel just as brain dead, but you still boiled inside at the sight of two of the girls murmuring amongst each other. It was tough to tell exactly what he had said, but the raucous round of laughter that shot into the air clued you in to the fact that he had probably just served them one of his sub-par farming jokes. 

He flashed them the same smile that had made your heart stutter countless times, and a sick feeling of anger pushed through your veins. With an unnecessarily hard push, you exited the pen you had just refreshed and moved on to the next. There was no doubt that Yeonjun took note of the unnecessarily loud clink of the metal gate, and you really fucking hope he got the message. Anger still bubbling just under your skin, you ignored the cow who sweetly bowed it’s head in search of affection. 

“Hello?” Someone asked as soon as you turned your back. Taking what you hoped would be a soothing breath, you spun on your heel to address the visitor. He was probably in his mid to late twenties, with cute curly hair and the usual t-shirt and jeans combo you were used to seeing men around your town wear. The way he looked was just about exactly what you would expect from a man visiting your uncles fairgrounds, as they all dressed about the same. He wasn’t your type, but over his shoulder you could see that Yeonjun had refocused his attention on you after you apparent fit with the door. A sickly sweet smile pulled your cheeks until they hurt, but you laid it on thick as you walked over to the door of the pen. 

“What can I do for ya?” Making sure to lay your voice on the extra sweet side, you took careful note of the way the man roamed his eyes over your face, stopping to flick between your lips and the low-riding cut of the shirt you’d worn today. 

“I was just uh, looking around. Got some pretty nice cows here, they yours?” You forced a laugh, throwing your hair over your shoulder before shaking your head. 

“Oh no, I just help out around here, ya know, cleaning and brushing the cows. They belong to my uncle. Like anything you see?” Deliberately, you tossed the bait and looked over his shoulder to find Yeonjun in the exact same spot as before, bottom lip locked between his teeth as he watched the interaction. Good. He deserves to have to watch this after you had to see him make those girls trip over their own feet just by existing. 

The man chuckled, clearly picking up on the inclination of your question as he hummed in thought. “I think I have my eye on someone,” he responded, resting his arm casually on the metal gate just a few inches from where you had draped your own. Instinctively, you looked at his arm- much less defined than Yeonjun’s- and noticed just about the biggest red flag you could ever see on a man you’re flirting with. A wedding band. 

“Ah, better be your wife you’ve got an eye on,” you quipped, mostly upset that your revenge on Yeonjun had been partially spoiled. There was no way you could stay here and flirt with a married man just to make Yeonjun jealous.  Defeated, you made to pull your arm off of the gate and go back to working on the hay when the man grabbed at the supple skin of your forearm to stop you. 

“She won’t mind, sweetheart,” he drawled, the cool press of his ring a persistent reminder of how much of a scumbag he was being. 

“No, somehow I really think she would mind.” You yanked your arm again, managing to gain just a few inches back from his hold. He huffed, pinching his blunt nails into your skin enough to scratch thin red lines. 

“I’d let go if I were you. Move on along, huh?” Yeonjun’s familiar tone met your ears, and you belatedly noticed that he had come right up behind the guy. You had never seen him look quite so intimidating as he did in the moment, with his eyebrows pulled together grimly. His mouth was set in a harsh line, unforgiving as he gripped at the man’s shoulder, fingers curling into the fabric of his tshirt. Finally, the man dropped his grip from you, shot Yeonjun a nasty look that you were sure he thought was manly, and strode off to presumably find his poor wife. 

Feeling small under Yeonjun’s gaze, you simply looked down at the faint red tracks now decorating your arm. 

“He could have really hurt you.” He muttered, keeping his voice low as to keep other visitors from overhearing. 

“He didn’t.” You spat, annoyed that he had to save you from yet another mishap. 

“Guys like that...they don’t have any respect for people like you. People who have a backbone.” His eyes were large, imploring you with the intensity of his stare. You avoided his gaze for a few more seconds, knowing that your resolve and previous anger would disappear. You shuffled some hay under your sneakers and a piece of you hoped Yeonjun would simply walk away, but you could still see the toes of his boots poking underneath the metal gate. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, finally meeting his gaze and feeling the tension melt from your bones. His features had softened considerably, and you almost forgot the pain that had split your heart upon seeing him flirting with other girls. You knew he wasn’t yours, but you wished more and more every day that he was. 

----

“I won’t be needin’ you in the barn tonight, by the way,” your uncle bellowed from across the barn. In the whole time you’d been working alongside Yeonjun in here, you had never once seen your uncle actually come into the barn. You knew he was busy with dozens of other things, but for as much as he loved his cows you were shocked at his lack of attendance. Today he stood right in the middle of it, patting the head of one of the cows with a contented look on his face as visitors swirled around. Yeonjun, who was in the middle of refilling a trough of water, popped his head up in shock at the words. 

“Really?” You enthused, dropping the rake you had in your hands to rush over to your uncle and see if he was joking. 

“Really. Got an old friend comin’ in who I wanna show off the cows to, so I won’t need the two of you caring for ‘em. He’ll be here in about,” he paused to glance down at the watch he’d worn for as long as you could remember, “about twenty minutes, if the two of you want to take off now.” 

Not having to be told twice, you waved your uncle goodbye, shot a quick smile at Yeonjun, and made a b-line to your car. Just as you pulled on the handle of the driver’s side door, Yeonjun was calling your name. 

“Hey!” He called, a little breathless from the jog he’d taken to catch up with you. “What are you uh, gonna do with the night off?” 

“Why, you wanna hang out?” You offered, half-teasing but very much offering your time to him. 

“No- I wasn’t, that’s not what I was...”

“I’ll be here,” you responded coolly. “Might come with some friends, might just come to stuff my face full of fair food. All the things I normally do when I work somewhere that isn’t the barn. I’m finally gonna get myself a damn funnel cake. But first, I’m going home to shower.” You opened your driver’s side door all the way and hopped in before he could respond. “See ya there?” You asked, hoping to probe him toward offering to meet you there. He stuffed his hands in his front pockets, swaying on the balls of his feet. His face twisted as you assumed he was contemplating his options. 

“Maybe,” he finally conceded, nodding softly as he watched you through the rolled down window of your car. “Maybe I’ll see ya there, Y/N.”

----

The sun had just begun to set when you got back to the familiar fair grounds, painting the sky in a orange-pink mix that delighted you beyond words. You had ended up coming to the fair alone; partly because all of your friends had already gone on other nights you were working and partly because you were hoping to run into Yeonjun. The parking lot was full to the brim, and you found yourself looping around to the slightly hidden employee parking lot instead of being sanctioned to the overflow lot down further down the dirt road. As you pulled into the closest spot, you caught a glimpse of a very familiar sleek black Chevy pickup in your rearview mirror. Excitement made you dizzy, hands shaking as you flipped down your overhead mirror to straighten yourself up. If you were going to see Yeonjun tonight, you were going to make it count. 

Throngs of visitors swirled around you, chatting and laughing over the piped in country music that you’d been hearing almost nonstop all summer long. With the sun setting, everything was casted in an idyllic golden glow that made you feel like you were in a coming-of-age film and not just your uncle’s fair that you had come to every year since your birth. A group of visibly drunk friends barreled past you, slurring and hiccupping as they narrowly avoided spilling their beers all over themselves. Grease and sweat mixed to create an atmospheric scent that was so inherently fair that you almost wished they sold candles that smelled the same way. Without even thinking about it, your feet carried you toward the funnel cake stand which was supposed to be your fate for the summer. To be honest, you were still quite upset that you hadn’t got to spend your days munching on pieces of fried batter and chatting with the family friends your uncle hired every year. 

Finding yourself at the back of a winding line, you resigned to the one thing that sucked about coming alone. There was no one around you to make conversation with as you waited for food. You had come to the fair many times with your friends from school and various dates, but you couldn’t think of a single time you visited the fair all by yourself. Idly, you scrolled through your phone and inched up appropriately with the line. 

“Y/N! Hey!” Yeonjun yelled, approaching you quickly. A wide smile split your face, giving away your excitement at spotting him. 

“Oh hey! I’m finally getting a funnel cake!” He was wearing his usual outfit, closer to the look you had seen him in the very first time you met. Outside of the barn he seemed much more casual, and even casted in an odd mix of setting sunrays and the harsh neon from the rides behind him, he looked ethereal. His eyes sparkled with that unmistakable mirth that he always seemed to harbor around you. 

“I saw that. Looked pretty lonely over here with your nose in your phone, figured I’d come see if you could use some company.” He was throwing you the line, waiting to see if you’d latch on. And who would you be if you didn’t?

“Hmm, I think that would be nice. Although I really can’t promise I’ll share the funnel cake.” You stepped forward with the line again, and he came with you easily, falling right beside you so closely that you could feel the heat radiating from his side. 

Once you finally had the hot treat balancing on a thin paper plate, you rushed Yeonjun to the nearest empty bench and dug in. The dough was still scalding, having just been pulled from the fryer, but the amazing taste was good enough for you to ignore the burn. Yeonjun sputtered a laugh as you shoveled in the dough, wiping powdered sugar onto your legs with reckless abandon. Teasingly, he snuck a hand up to the plate and pulled off a piece of funnel cake; pulling a teasing whine from your throat as you shook your head no rapidly. 

“Too late,” he mumbled, “already in ma mouf.” Swallowing your own piece, you widened your eyes and punched at his thigh, firm and muscular. 

“Rude! You should have gotten your own!” He smiled cutely down at you, nose crinkling as he finally swallowed. Some powdered sugar had slid onto his button up, but you decided not to tell him in favor of keeping his attention focused on you the way it was now. You felt hot but extremely comfortable under his gaze, feeling a stutter in your chest that increased the adrenaline in your veins. He was so close, and so endearing, and the way he was focused on your face was so fucking cute. 

“You’ve got,” he motioned to his own face, brushing his finger against his chin. You tried to mirror his action, swiping at the same spot, but the frown on his face told you that you had missed. 

“Lemme, can I?” You nodded before the words even came out, eager to feel his calloused hands on the sensitive skin of your face. His eyes narrowed in concentration as he cupped your jaw and inched his thumb, much slower than what would be considered normal, toward your chin. With one gentle swipe, the stray powdered sugar was gone, yet his hands remained. God, you wanted to kiss him so badly. The lighting had casted a gorgeous shade along his cheekbones, highlighting the beautiful length of his eye lashes and the rounded tip of his nose. 

Up this close, you examined the curve of his lips; the soft definition of his cupid’s bow and the perfect pink of his mouth.

“Yeonjun-” he surged forward, stalling the words in your throat as he finally pushed his lips against yours. His fingers gently curled around your neck, gripping at strands of hair like he was afraid you were going to run away. It was quite the opposite, actually, as you happily hummed and leaned into the kiss you’d been waiting for. He tasted like funnel cakes and a faint hint of mint gum, just intoxicating enough to have you clawing your hands into the collar of his shirt. The funnel cake plate began to slide off of your lap, but you could not  have cared less as you swiped your tongue over the seam of his lips, greedily pushing to get more out of him. 

He hesitates, still eager to kiss you back, but not enough to let you have full reign. Pouting a little, you decided to make the best of your time by nibbling at his bottom lip playfully. Yeonjun pulled away just enough to separate the two of you gently, chests heaving as you both readjusted to a life not attached at the lips. 

“Sorry,” he grunted, voice much rougher around the edges than you’d ever heard it. The sound sent a chill down your spine. “Sorry that I didn’t, uh, wanna-” his cheeks flushed startlingly fast and he sighed. “I just don’t want to mess this up, whatever this is. I just...I like you too much, ya know?” The shyness in his voice was endearing, and it wasn’t hard at all to let your own desires fall to the wayside. He likes you.

“That’s okay, Yeonjun. You know I really like you too, right?” 

“Hmm,” he pondered, leaning back into his usual persona at your acceptance. “Did I know that? Maybe all those times I caught you staring, or how fuckin’ clumsy you get if I even so much as compliment you...yeah. I think I know.” A permanent smile was stuck on your face, unbreakable in the presence of Yeonjun and his intoxicating aura. 

----

The next morning, you’d walked into work on clouds. You and Yeonjun had spent the whole night together; strolling hand in hand, eating your way through the grounds and dragging one another on the carnival rides. 

He wasn’t around when you entered the barn, but the evidence that he was somewhere around was enough to kick you into gear. You were shoveling food into a trough, making one-sided conversation with the cows in front of you when you heard him stroll in. 

“Hey!” You called over your shoulder, too focused on getting the food actually inside the container to turn around. Yeonjun didn’t answer, but you just finished the task at hand and figured you’d try again in a few moments. Once you were done with the food, you spotted him walking back from the storehouse with a fresh bale of hay in his arms. 

He plopped it down on the floor of the barn and you tried again. 

“Good morning,” you smiled, approaching him with a grin. He looked up at your breifly and simply nodded, turning on his heels to go back to the storage. Your heart plummeted to your feet just like it had on the rollercoaster he had forced you on to just about 12 hours ago. 

What the hell had happened in between the time you parted and the time you both came into work? If you hadn’t known him better, you would have chalked it up to a bad morning, or maybe he was still too tired. 

But in all the time you had worked together, he had never once ignored you. He always greeted you in the morning, began a conversation about nothing or at least asked you how you slept. No matter how shit he was feeling, Yeonjun had always made it clear to you that you were worth his time. Did you ruin it all with the kiss? Even though he had seemed so ecstatic last night, maybe he woke up this morning with regrets stacked up. Maybe he was afraid of what your uncle would think. In your idle thinking, you hadn’t noticed the accumulation of hay bales that he had brought in. A stack of four now stood before you, and he was just feet away with the fifth. He was huffing, face reddened with the sheer weight of the bales. 

“Yeonjun, do you need help?” You tried again, hoping that maybe lodging a question would garner a real response, but you got nothing. He simply dropped another bale and made to leave the barn again. 

“Yeonjun!” You bellowed, hopping around the bales to catch up to him. You jumped in his path, holding one hand to each shoulder. Despite his strength advantage, he stopped in his tracks and gazed down at you. You noticed that he looked tired, slight bags residing under his eyes, and you wondered if we had gotten any sleep at all. “What’s up with you?” 

He sighed, pushing his fingers into his temples. 

“I don’t have time for this, Y/N.” He tried to pass around you again, but you planted your feet and pushed at his chest with all of your might. 

“We are going to talk about this. The cows are fed, and the new hay can wait. Why the fuck are you avoiding me? After last night? If you don’t actually like me, or you regret it, just tell me the truth. Be a big boy, Yeonjun. Don’t leave me out here high and dry.” The steeliness in his eyes softened at your words and a frown marred his flawless face. 

“No, god no. I do like you, Y/N. And yesterday was great and I don’t regret any of it but I just...I just don’t trust myself. The last person I dated,” he rubbed his hand into the back of his neck, “I messed it up. Bad. And the last thing I want is to do that to you, too. I’m trying to keep you away from all of this mess. So I’m sorry, but you have to just...forget last night.” 

You were stunned to silence, disbelief bubbling in your chest. How bad of a fuck up could his last relationship have been? The Yeonjun you knew was nothing but caring, goofy, smart and charming. Everything you could have ever dreamed up in a man. 

“Look, I don’t know what happened last time, but I know that you’re being way too hard on yourself. You’re...Yeonjun, you’re as close to perfect as anyone could get. And even if you are a mess,” you made sure that his tired eyes never left yours, “well, so am I. I fell flat on my ass the first time we met, I step in cow shit on the daily, and somehow you still find it in yourself to like me back. So whatever you’re worried about, forget about it. Okay?” 

A small, slow smile cracked onto his face, exposing the white, pearly teeth that you were so envious of. “I never told you this,” he began, the cheerful inclination of his voice made your heart soar, “but I had to try so hard not to laugh when you fell. Like- the look on your face!” His voice tapered off into a full-bellied laugh; music to your ears. 

“Okay, okay! I was trying to cheer you up, and now you’re just bullying me!” You yelled, pushing at his chest gently in a bid to get him to stop. 

“Hmm, well you did help make me feel better, but ya know what would really cheer me up?” His laughter had ceased, but the apples of his cheeks were still risen and rosy from the effort. His hands encircled your waist delicately, pulling you into his chest. “If you could just...kiss it better?” He pouted exaggeratedly, leaning down to level your heights. And how could you resist? 

You met him halfway with the same vigor as yesterday, still shocked by the easy way your mouths fit together. With every intention of respecting the boundary he set yesterday, you were more than happy to lean into the sweet roll of his lips until you were in need of a breather. The hands on your waist tightened, pulling your bodies impossibly closer and Yeonjun mumbled something that you didn’t quite catch, although you didn’t have time to ponder it as he took the imitative to deepen the kiss. 

Finally kissing him the way you’d desired made you feel like you were on fire, every inch of your skin sensitive. Yeonjun was persistent, guiding you backwards slowly. You couldn’t see where you were going, but right now you would have trusted him with your entire life as he intoxicated you with his touch. Suddenly, your back was pressed against what you figured was the wood paneling just inside the barn’s entrance. Yeonjun finally backed away from you as your chest heaved, mind fuzzy from the rush of serotonin. Without a word he descended on you again, kissing sloppily down your jaw and neck, leaving at least two purpling bruises in his wake. Frantically, you knocked his hat backwards off of his head, weaving your fingers into his fading pink hair as he worked at the junction of your neck and collarbone. Losing yourself in his touch was easy, sliding your eyes shut as the flat of his tongue soothed the skin he had just finished raising into a blooming bruise. 

Yeonjun was just as consumed, mumbling compliments against your neck as his hands wandered to the hem of your shirt, sliding his large, warm hands under the soft cotton; roaming higher and higher-

“MOOOOO-” the cow closest to you bellowed, sliding her foot across the floor in a loud shuffle that alarmed you both. Yeonjun’s hands dropped away immediately, eyes comically wide as the cow stared at the both of you. 

“She defintely just told us to knock it off and change the hay.” You joked, trying to pretend like the loud animal hadn’t scared the living shit out of you. Yeonjun was flustered, fumbling to readjust his trusty hat as he cleared his throat and threw you a shy look. His eyes flitted to your neck, no doubt admiring his handiwork, before straightening his shirt. 

“I’m going to go...um, start on that hay now.”

[shadowpuppy2]

Intro quest for Asphodel Wastes

The node would only be visible after starting the quest, some point post new war. Ideally the quest would have a few 'routes' depending on player choices and which lotus you chose, as well as your interactions with Maximilius.

Quest starts as an inbox message, though the contents vary.

Quest starts as an inbox message, telling the player of another Tenno who's spent an overwhelming majority of their time on Mars and in an area where communications and means of monitoring remotely are either blocked, ignored or through some means rendered inoperable or ineffective, and asks you to investigate.

If Natah, she's aggressive, suspecting him of being a potential deserter or traitor planning hostile action against the rest of the Tenno, suggests that the player acts 'decisively'.

If Lotus, she's cautious, and perhaps a bit openly confused. She makes it clear she's not entirely sure what's going on here and prompts the player to be cautious and remain unseen while gathering data.

If Margulis, she's worried primarily about this Tenno, that he may be victim to some kind of blackmail and the like or is simply disturbed in some way after Narmer and just wants some time alone. or something like that idk. Stresses the need for caution and compassion, this is another Tenno after all, surely all that's needed are some words, right?

alright this is gonna get pretty long so ill add a readmore

After landing in the Wastes, the surface section of the region, it's windy and kicking up dust, but not yet a proper storm. Looking out over whatever convenient scenic cliffside you landed on, im going to add the descriptions of the areas in a different post to force people to look at them as i am actually proud of the work so far.

Mother Dearest prompts you to advance into the mess before you, squads of enemies you can either engage or allow to rip eachother apart slowly weave their way around as well, and you see some larger vehicle get hit by an apparent raiding party, a unique look to their equipment suggest they're the locals. You're now one of the few who's laid eyes on them and lived to tell about it. A ragtag bunch of both former grineer, corpus and some others, their odd vehicle burrows up from the sand, the large horn or fin structure quickly and easily flipping over an enemy convoy in a charge attack, as infantry pile out or swoop in from hiding places and smaller craft following it, they split into groups, attacking the convoy and looting cargo, even carving chunks out of the larger equipment.

The player has two options after the convoy is decimated,

Move in and engage the raiders, or hang back and examine them.

The player is prompted to either attack or, equip a scanner. This is the first interaction that alters your relationship with Maximilius as well as your alignment.

Moving in gets your ass kicked either way, should you mechanically get the upper hand, a cutscene plays where these desperados hit your warframe with a truck. If you fail to actually start beating them, then frankly you deserve to get your ass kicked, on entering bleedout or after taking three scans, a unique necramech appears, and finishes off a heavier enemy unit, showing where some of the stronger hits from earlier were coming from.

The mech's unique style show much about the owner and the environment it was designed for. Visibly lighter build, a helmet evoking a classic cowboy hat and longcoat like armor, alongside a menacing skull like respirator mask, specially designed legs allow the mech to march normally or glide over the sands on fold out skis with equal ease, complimented by a massive triple barreled shotgun in it's right hand and the left having the unique addition of an oversized bowie knife.

The pilot spots you quickly, and either demonstrates the mech's lasso to pull you in or presses your frame into the sand with the business end of the shotgun.

If you attacked the raiders, Maximilius, the pilot of the mech and Tenno you were sent to investigate, starts cussing you out, enraged that another Tenno would attack him and his friends. Either your Tenno learns to swear or Mother Dearest censors your audio somehow.

If you didn't attack Max is initially far more polite, and less threatening, curious as to why a fellow Tenno is spying on him.

He interrogates the player, prompting three choices:

"What in the hell are you doing here?"

Be honest and neutral, you're here to investigate the area, say nothing beyond that.

Be honest and diplomatic, you're here because it seemed someone might be getting the better of a fellow tenno

Be a lying jackass. Say something hostile and objectively incorrect, to be more irritating or self aggrandizing.

Depending on the encounter, Maximilius has different responses.

If no hostile actions were taken and you don't act overtly hostile, Max releases the player, suspicious and annoyed, but not hostile.

If hostile actions were taken but the player chooses a non aggressive dialogue, Maximilius insults the player and fires the gun, dealing enough damage to the frame to force the player to retreat for repairs.

If hostile for both the encounter and dialogue, Maximilius and the raiders laugh and insult the player more before procuring more restraints and means to disable the frame's movement and ability systems, throwing them in with the rest of the loot.

Regardless, Max refers to the Lotus/Natah/Margulis as "Mother Dearest", expresses a deal of irritation and suspicion, before heading back to the Verdant Citadel.

Act two of the quest begins after.

[honey-dewey]

The Cowboy Conundrum

Pairing: Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels/GN! Reader

Word Count: 3,128

Warnings: Jack gets heatstroke and suffers the symptoms (passing out, vomiting, etc.), but other than that it’s mostly just hurt/comfort

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell​

The prompt for this week’s Writer Wednesday was given, as always, by the lovely @autumnleaves1991-blog​, and the masterlists are created by  @clydesducktape. 

Out in the middle of the desert, the days were long and hot, usually unforgiving and always unbearable. The sand was gritty, the sun was cruel, and the lack of humidity was somehow a curse and not its usual blessing. 

Why the hell you were in a desert right now was beyond you, but apparently your work had decided to send you to the middle of God’s country, Arizona for something important, so something important you were doing. Well, you were waiting for your instructions in a cabin on the outskirts of some ghost town, but that felt close enough. You’d been here for almost three months, and at this point, you were entirely used to the boringness and the labor of day-to-day life in the desert. 

Thankfully, it seemed the gods were merciful today. Instead of heading into town for a drink or counting tumbleweeds as you always did to stave off the boredom, a horse approached you as you exited your cabin to grab water from the well. It wasn’t a particularly interesting horse, just a regular old bay horse with one small white sock, but what intrigued you was the horse’s rider, or obvious lack thereof. Fully tacked in western gear, the horse had no rider that you could see. No one on the horizon, no shouts above the dry wind, not even a whisper of whoever had sent this horse running to you. 

“Are you alone?” you asked, rubbing up and down the horse’s muzzle. “Are you all alone out here pretty boy? Hm?” 

The horse whickered, shoving against you and flicking his tail. You nodded, looking out over the sienna landscape. “Is there something out there?” 

Another soft whicker, and this time, you could’ve sworn you saw something, a glimmering mirage against the heat. A man, shambling upright, limping with every step. With one blink, he was gone, but the image remained burned in your head. You blinked a few more times, trying to dispel the mirage, but you couldn’t. 

“Oh what the hell,” you groaned, picking up your hat and placing it securely on your head. “What could go wrong?” Already in riding clothes, you wasted no time swinging up into the horse’s saddle and gripping the reins tightly in one hand. “Take me wherever.” 

Immediately, the horse was off, you along with him. Riding was as natural as breathing for you, and you actually felt nice with the wind threatening to upend your hat with every step the horse made. 

It took almost ten minutes to find anything, but the horse seemed to know where he was meant to go and took you there without hesitation. When you finally came upon the crumpled body of a man, you swung off the horse’s back before he slowed to a stop, running alongside him and falling before the man. He was unconscious, his skin as hot as the ground beneath him and as dry as the air you were breathing. You shoved two of your fingers to the side of this neck, just below his jaw, and found a pulse, wild and erratic, racing under the man’s skin. 

“Looks like heatstroke,” you said to the horse, flicking the brim of the man’s hat up and seeing his sun-flushed face. “Yep. C’mon, think you can carry us both?” 

The horse was surprisingly willing to carry you and the mystery man. He knelt down so you could position the man at the front of the saddle, and stood still when you swung yourself up as well. Because of the extra weight, what should’ve been a ten minute trip home was closer to twenty, but before you knew it, you were dragging the man inside your cabin, leaving the horse cool and comfortable in the attached stall beside the house. 

You groaned, hauling the man onto your only bed. You could take the couch until he recovered, you truly didn’t mind. Turning the ceiling fan on, you listened to it creak as you stripped the man of his clothes, piling everything to be washed in a basket by the door. When he was left in only his underwear, you began to relax. You’d need well water, which was typically cool, but for now, you grabbed an ice tray from your ancient freezer, popping out an ice cube and handling it carefully. The last thing you wanted was to drop the man’s temperature too fast, but you had to cool him down. 

In the end, you ran the ice cube across his skin, focusing on the sensitive areas the most, his face, neck, and armpits. He gave no response to the shock of cold, and you couldn’t help but fear the worst. How long had he been out there? You knew heatstroke victims could lapse into comas, and you were technically supposed to call emergency services immediately, but who the hell were you going to call out here? All you could do was treat him as best you could and pray to whatever God resided over your personal slice of hell that the mystery man didn’t die in your bed. 

You sighed, watching the last sliver of ice melt away. The man’s face looked a bit less flushed, and you ducked into your bathroom, coming out holding two thermometers. One was an oral thermometer, the one you were probably going to use, and the other was a rectal thermometer, the one you really should use. The second one was going to give you a more accurate reading, but holy shit. You hadn’t even technically met the guy yet, and you didn’t exactly think sticking a thermometer up his ass was the way to kick off your introduction. 

Giving in, you put the first thermometer in the man’s mouth, watching and waiting for the beep. When it dinged, you pulled it out from between his teeth and sighed. 104.2 degrees fahrenheit. Shit. Still in the danger zone. 

There was no getting around it now. You needed water, and fast. Your shower could only get to lukewarm before it stopped cooling, so you resigned yourself to hauling a bucket to and from the well. The horse looked at you as you sloshed water into the house, hurrying to get back to the man’s bedside before anything bad happened. Thankfully, he seemed to be better when you returned, dropping the remaining cubes from the ice tray into the water, cooling it down for a minute, and then grabbing a threadbare washcloth from the bathroom. The rag seemed to help more than the single ice cube, and you felt comfortable enough after wiping him down for a while to get up and leave him, the water-soaked towel still across his forehead, of course. 

While the man rested inside, you headed outside to tend to the horse, putting his tack away in the miniscule shed beside the house and getting him cozy with some water and hay. He seemed grateful, munching on the hay while you began to fill your laundry trough. It was sat on the porch, the metal tub and laundry line the only way you had found to wash clothes out here. Two buckets of well water did the trick, and then you were grabbing your washboard, soap, and laundry, ready to scrub. 

You were halfway through washing the man’s jeans when you heard a thud inside the house. Abandoning your laundry, you rushed back inside, seeing the man, awake, bent over on the floor, clutching his head and groaning like a wounded animal. You knelt beside him, helping him sit back on his haunches and then slump against the wall, skin flushed and warm against your damp hands. 

“You have heatstroke,” you explained clearly and slowly, grabbing a new wet washcloth and wiping the man’s skin down, taking care around his brown eyes. “You were unconscious in the desert. Your horse found me, and I brought you back to my cabin.” 

The man nodded loosely, his movements uncoordinated. You tracked his eyes, watching how they flickered around your face, never seeming to focus on one thing. “Are you nauseous?” you asked, grabbing an ice cube out of your second tray. You handed it to the man, gesturing for him to put it in his mouth. He did so, nodding as he went. 

“Dizzy?” Another nod, and you were standing to wring the warm washcloth out and re-cool it. 

“Headache?” The nodding increased in strength, and you winced, setting the cold towel against the man’s head, soaking his brown curls. “Pulsing?” You hated the confirmation, and you sighed. “Yep, heatstroke. Just gonna have to keep cooling you off, I guess.” 

You were hesitant to leave the man, but the laundry still had to be done. Eventually, you gave him an old paper-thin bathrobe and let him sit on the porch swing, sucking on ice cubes and watching you scrub his undershirt against the washboard. He never once complained, but he didn’t say anything else either, and you had to wonder, as you hung the shirt to dry, if the man could even speak at all. 

You got your answer over dinner. You insisted he eat plain toast, and he shook his head in refusal. It was a battle you were willing to fight, because you kept pestering him until he finally snapped, “Y’ain’t my damn mother!” His voice was raspy and sick sounding, but underneath that you could hear a richness to his words.

“Even so,” you said, not ready to give up just yet. “You need to put something in your stomach. Just one piece, please.” 

The man’s eyes softened as you pushed the plate towards him. “Half,” he countered. 

You shrugged, ripping one piece of toast in half and giving him the slightly bigger piece. “That works, cowboy.” 

He ate slowly, each bite small and hesitant. He was still woozy, staying in his chair only because of the study back and arms of the chair trapping him in. But his head bobbed and his eyes flickered open and shut, and you were certain his head was still killing him. 

“A good night’s rest will do you good,” you said as you finished dinner, helping the man up and into bed. “I’ll leave the fan on, okay?” 

The man nodded, letting you tuck the thin quilt around his body and leave him with nothing more than a whispered goodnight. 

The next morning, the man seemed to be doing better. His skin was no longer as flushed pink as it was the day before, and he told you over breakfast that his head had finally stopped pounding so hard. It still hurt, but was no longer unbearable. 

Unfortunately, he was still nauseous and lightheaded, stumbling around the cabin and throwing up what meager oatmeal you’d convinced him to eat. It was hell as you followed him to the bathroom and rubbed his back, letting him cry into your shirt for a while before realizing being on the floor couldn’t be good for him. 

“Looks like it’s another bed rest day,” you said, helping him up off the bathroom floor. He swayed in your arms, groaning as you walked him to the bedroom. “I know,” you said slowly, pulling back the quilt on the bed. “But you just have to rest.” 

The man fell asleep quickly, and you left him with the fan on and an open window to let in some breeze while you went outside to get some chores done. It was mostly busy work, hauling well water to fill the house’s water tank, checking on the laundry, feeding the horse from yesterday, and caring for your own horse in the stall beside the mystery horse. By the time you walked back inside, it was nearing noon, the grandfather clock in the living room reading half past eleven. 

The man was awake when you entered the bedroom, and you insisted on taking his temperature. 

“Just a minute,” you promised, holding the thermometer out. “Then I’ll leave. I have to go to town anyway. Think you’ll survive on your own?” 

The man gave you a look as he put the thermometer under his tongue. When it beeped, he handed it to you, and you breathed a sigh of relief. “One hundred and three point six,” you said out loud, putting the thermometer on the nightstand. “Getting lower.” 

“That’s good,” the man said. “I think.” 

“It’s better than it was yesterday,” you said, looking over the small bookshelf in the room and picking a book. “Here. Read as much of this as you can before I get back please. I’ll see if I can’t find anything to help your head while I’m out.” 

You ended up leaving the man with his book while you saddled your horse up and rode into town. The trip was only a few miles, but you almost never walked it out of fear you’d end up with heatstroke, just like the man in your house. 

“Heya Sal,” you said, dismounting and walking up to the convenience store. “How you doing?” 

Sal looked up, his cloudy eyes unfocused. He was older than everyone in town by a wide margin, but no one dared try and help him, lest they end up getting a cane to the ankle. “I’m doing fine,” he said, finally focusing on you. “How are you?” 

“Oh I’m hanging in there,” you said, smiling. “Gotta get some groceries. I ran out of eggs yesterday, if you can believe it.” 

Sal shook his head. “Just don’t go drinking them raw,” he said as you entered the convenience store. “I did that in my youth and let me say, made me sicker than a dog.” 

Smiling, you let the cold of the air conditioning wash over you as the door swung shut. The store was dead empty aside from the owner, who seemed oddly excited to see you. 

“I haven’t seen anyone else all day!” He said happily, hopping over the counter to hug you. “It’s good to see you, how’ve you been holding up?” 

“I’m fine Joey,” you said, hugging Joey back and flicking a stray brown cowlick he’d missed when he was getting ready. “I found a heatstroke victim yesterday, and I’m no nurse, but I think he’s getting better.”

Joey winced. “Out here? It’s a miracle he’s survived!” he said. “Is he okay?” 

You shrugged, reaching around Joey to grab a basket. “Headache,” you said. “Nausea, he’s still running a fever, and he’s woozy, but he’s awake now, so I don’t have to worry about a coma.” 

“Sounds rough,” Joey muttered, picking up a bottle off a shelf and handing it to you. “Here. Painkillers. Should help the mystery man’s head.” 

You grinned. “Joey, you are a lifesaver.” 

By the time you got home an hour later, the sun was at its peak, and you were worried about the man inside. But your worries were just that when you realized he was fine, sitting up in bed and reading the book you’d given him. He looked up as you walked in, carrying the bag of things you’d gotten him. He took his medicine without complaint, even though you knew it was probably nasty, and seemed to perk up when you told him you’d bought him new clothes because his old ones were disgusting. He joined you yet again on the porch when you went outside, although this time you sat beside him, working patiently on a cross stitch project. 

“Do you like working on these things?” the man asked, handing you your thread snips. “When you’re bored?” 

You snorted, tying off the thread you’d finished using. “Yes,” you said sarcastically. “I’m a ninety year old woman who has nothing better to do than to work on a cross stitch in my rocking chair.” 

The man laughed, passing you the thread bundle you gestured at. “I’m serious,” he said, watching you expertly thread the needle you were holding. “You’re very good at this.” 

His words made you warm, and you shrugged loosely. “There’s not much to do out here,” you admitted. “So yeah, I guess I do like it, cowboy.” 

“Jack.” 

“Hm?” 

The man looked you in the eyes, smiling slightly. “My name is Jack.” 

Just like that, Jack was no longer a mystery. He was a constant in your life for two more weeks as he recovered, growing stronger by the day. You gave him chores to do, making sure none of them were too labor intensive, and he pulled his weight around your cabin, hardly ever complaining. At night, you and him would watch the sunset on the porch, sitting side by side on the porch swing. You took care to finish your cross stitch, the tiny, rhythmic X stitches in the fabric lulling you into a state of calm night after night. 

One day, almost three weeks after Jack had arrived, he told you he had to leave. 

“I’m gonna go tomorrow,” he said, tangling his feet with yours under the kitchen table. He had made dinner, the chili a nice warm meal after your long day. “I was out here traveling, and my people back home are probably worried sick about me.” 

You nodded. You understood, you really did, but damn did it hurt to see him go. You liked having Jack around. He was funny and smart and an excellent cook. A tiny part of you wanted to ask him to stay, and then you remembered you didn’t live here either. You were just visiting, exactly as he was. 

The next morning, you helped Jack pack his things, giving him a nice new shirt to wear. 

“It’s thin,” you said, handing him the vibrant red fabric. “So it should help keep you from overheating. Just remember to drink water and to stay cool please.” 

Jack chuckled, putting his hat on his head and tipping the brim up. “Will do.” 

As Jack got dressed, you walked out to his horse, holding your completed cross stitch. It was a beautiful pixelated version of the landscape, the tiny cabin illuminated by the rising sun. Slipping it and a letter into Jack’s saddle bag, you gave his horse one last kiss on the nose before going to tell your cowboy good-bye. 

It was hell watching Jack ride away. He waved to you as he kicked his horse into a trot, disappearing over the horizon line faster than you wanted him to. When he came back into view, miniscule and almost unseeable, his red shirt a stain against the orange of the sand, you waved again, He saw you and his hand raised, bidding you farewell one last time before he looked out over the sea of rising buttes and sienna sand, riding off and leaving you alone under the cloudless sky.

[ladyanaconda]

Helluva Dad Vol. 4: Spring Broken

Bombproof just had to get a cold; it was nothing serious, but he'd need to rest for a few days, meaning that Striker and Jake would have to ride the I.M.P. van to get to work. It might have been a more-or-less intriguing experience if not for the radio music playing at full volume and Blitzo's careless driving. Striker spent most of the ride covering his ears while Jake was peering through the window alongside Millie.

This is why he'd rather ride Bombproof to work.

"Daaad! Can we ride the van with uncle Blitzo more often?!"

"Over my corpse!" Striker shouted over the noise. "Get away from the window, boy! The last thing I want is you losing your head!"

"But it's so fresh out here, dad!"

"Now!"

Jake groaned and went to sit next to his father with an unhappy scowl on his face. "Killjoy."

"Is this your first time riding a van?" Millie asked curiously.

"No, it's my first time riding a van with a crazy driver!" Striker banged on the wall separating the back with the driver's seat. "Hey, Blitz, can't you go any faster?!" he snapped sarcastically.

Jake's face had gained a somewhat greenish hue and his arms were clutching his stomach. "Dad, I think I'm gonna hurl!" he groaned.

"Kiddo, whatever you do, don't hurl on the carpet or Blitzo will deduct it from this month's paycheck! If anything, hurl on Moxxie's fanny pouch!"

"Hey!"

The van making an abrupt turn to get into the parking lot was the last straw for Jake. As he rushed towards the window, the vehicle came to a sudden stop and skidded. Jake would have flown out of the window if Striker hadn't grabbed him by the tail, but the vomit went up to Jake's stomach, all the way to his throat, and flew out of his mouth.

"Are you okay, my boy?" Striker asked, concerned, as he cradled the impling in his arms.

"I hate vans," Jake grumbled, earning a hair ruffling from his father.

"Listen up, you unoriginal pink cum dump! You have three goddamn seconds to get your tampon race car out of my parking spot…!"

Blitzo's voice brought the stunned group out of their daze. Striker stomped out of the van, intending to pummel Blitzo for the awful experience, but stopped in his tracks as he saw the cause of the problem. A pink car had parked on I.M.P.'s only parking spot. And the owner of the car was none other than…

"Oh shit! Verosika!"

The succubus didn't seem to hear him or didn't care. She was seething with rage, her face dripping with vomit. Jake flinched when her eyes fixed on him.

"I should have known you'd be here. I could smell fish for miles, which is odd because I believe the nearest ocean is…" Blitzo fell off the van's cabin, faceplanting on the ground. "Three rings down!"

Verosika outright ignored Blitzo this time and stomped her way towards the van. Jake hid behind his father.

"You little brat-!"

"Whoa, whoa, hold your horses, miss!" Striker stood to his full height. The succubus was taller than him, but he never faltered. "My boy didn't to… Well, throw up in your face."

"You should be grateful! You got a facial treatment for free!" Blitzo sneered. Verosika looked like she'd snap at any moment, but she merely huffed and wiped the vomit from her face with a napkin, which she then threw at Blitzo's face.

"I suppose you're the fella who spawned that brat, am I right?" She asked, uninterested.

"I'm the boy's father, that's right." Striker nodded. Is it just him or is the succubus eyeing him eye to toe behind her sunglasses?

"You ought to teach that little spawn of yours some manners, cowboy." Verosika purred the last word in a seductive manner, running her hand down Striker's chest, leaning a bit too close for his liking.

Thankfully, Blitzo got in between them. "I'm surprised they let your fat ass out of rehab," he growled. "I can see you're still a drunken whore, clutching unto that beelze juice bottle like it's the last cock in Hell!"

"They let me out because I'm still famous, and rehab is for sad, loser wash-ups." Verosika took a sip from her flash, sneering as she wiped some drops left on her lips. "So, your sister says hi." Jake made a 'burned' hiss. Striker gave him a stern frown.

"Why are you parking here?! This is the only parking spot my company has, so take your tampon race car somewhere else!"

"Um, Blitz…" Jake pointed at the ground. I.M.P.'s name was crossed out in purple spray paint while Verosika's was written in cursive letters.

The succubus smirked. "I'm doing a bit of freelance for one of the infinitely more successful companies in the building…"

"Dad, who's that nasty woman?" Jake asked.

Loona gasped as if the impling has just spoken blasphemy. "Wait, you don't know about Verosika Mayday?"

"Not exactly. I mean, I've seen her in dad's porno magazines, but-" Jake quickly covered his mouth, but it was too late. He laughed nervously when his father stared at him in shock. "Just to clarify, dad, I didn't read. I skipped!"

"I'll talk with you about this later." Striker hissed.

Thankfully, an angry yell from Blitzo distracted them from the argument. "I wasted so much time with a bag of holes like that."

"You know Verosika Mayday?!" Loona asked, incredulously.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, her. Yeah, we dated."

"That explains a lot of things." Striker murmured as Millie and Moxxie stepped out of the van.

"Was it before or after she became a pop star?"

"You dated a pop star?!"

Blitzo frowned. "Okay, why are you all acting like that's such a shock?"

"Hello, it's Verosika Mayday?" Loona pointed out.

"It's you?" Jake added dryly.

"I just… Is she blind? Suffering some form of brain damage? I mean, it'd make sense if she had dated Striker."

The cowboy rolled his eyes. "Gee, thank you, Moxxie, but she's not my type."

"Okay, look, you are all making this into a way bigger deal than it needs to be." Blitzo crossed his arms. "I don't pry into your stupid personal lives."

"You do that all the time, sir!"

"Come on, you kinda do that."

"You totally do that."

"Do I have to remind you all the times I've nearly shot you for sneaking into my house at two in the morning?!" Striker snapped.

"So…" Jake grinned mischievously. "What was sex with her like?" He yelped in pain when his father gave him a smack in the back of the head.

*HB*

Jake didn't quite understand what the fuss was about. From what Millie and Loona said, Verosika Mayday was a musical pop star, but dad wouldn't let him listen to her music; when questioned as to why he couldn't, all dad said was that it was for 'adults'.

In the end, Striker managed to distract his son via target practice. Millie would place an apple on her head so Jake could shoot it with the crossbow; Striker was quite surprised that she wasn't frightened in the least.

"Hey, Blitz, what did you do to Verosika Mayday for her to hate your guts like that?" Striker questioned casually.

"It was nothing, really! I merely borrowed her credit card when she was still sleeping and went to Wrath to take horse riding lessons!"

"Well, no wonder she's so mad."

"Hey, you're supposed to be on my side."

Striker shrugged. "Sorry, but you're on your own when it comes to relationships."

The door slammed open, startling Jake into shooting the arrow a few inches down, but Millie caught it with a hand. Moxxie looked disheveled, and his face was covered in lipstick marks. All he said was that he needed to lay down as he dropped to the floor. Millie went to check on him.

"What happened to Moxxie?" Jake asked. Striker shifted uncomfortably.

"Let's say that he received too much love," he murmured.

"But it wasn't from Millie, she's right here."

"Oh, Strikeeer!" Blitzo sang as he leaned in closer to the cowboy with a wide, exaggerated smile. "Do you know what's the best part of being the employee of the month?"

"Let me guess: to do you personal favors so you won't have to face your shitty issues yourself?"

"Bingo! I was wondering if you could use your… natural charm," Blitzo quirked his eyebrows coyly. "To have that bitch give back our parking spot."

Striker dropped Moxxie's cup of coffee. "What?"

"You know, a little bit of sweet-talking, flirting. Maybe some oral sex-"

"I know what you mean, Blitz! What I mean is why me."

"Well, you're a ladies' magnet. I don't think you'd have trouble convincing a drunken slut to give you all of her assets."

Striker wasn't sure of how Blitzo always, always, manages to convince him to do that kind of stuff, but in the end, he agreed to try 'without' having to recur to sex. He didn't need to go far, as the band of succubus had taken the vacant offices right in front of I.M.P. Well, no wonder Blitzo was so mad! Meeting up with your ex and finding out you'd have to be in the same building for a bloody week wasn't pleasant.

Striker took a deep breath and stepped into the room. Apparently, the succubus band was still making fun of Moxxie's probably tiny dick. They went silent as soon as he came in.

"Well, look who it is."

"Greetings, miss Mayday." Striker tipped his hat for the sake of courtesy. "I suppose I don't need to explain why I'm here."

"Want a kiss, cowboy?" one of the incubi got a little too close to his liking, prompting Striker to point the barrel of his pistol right at the demon's face.

"Put a hand on me and I'll put a bullet in-between your eyes." the imp hissed, tail rattling.

"Oh, look! His tail is like a baby rattle!"

"Hey, did that cute little impling come with you? I want to eat him with kisses!"

This time, Striker pulled out his angelic pistol. "Leave the boy out of this," he growled, expression dark. The sight of the weapon scared the succubi into silence, all but one.

"Well, well, you certainly have more balls than the little guy with the bowtie." Verosika purred, hips swaying as she approached him. "Too bad I already got a bodyguard, 'cause you look like you'd be good at that." she gently pushed the barrel of the pistol aside with a finger, leaning dangerously close to Striker's face. "I suppose Blitzo is still throwing a tantrum over the parking spot, right?"

"That's right, ma'am." Striker stepped back warily, putting his pistol away. "Perhaps we could reach an agreement, considering that…"

He's dealt with succubi before, but never in such a personal manner. Not ever since… Striker knew what was happening when he realized he had been cornered against the wall. Verosika's hands lay on his chest as she leaned in close to his face. His tail rattled uncontrollably. His bottom tightened at the she-devil's enticing aura.

"An agreement, you say?"

"Y-Yes…" Striker cursed himself for stuttering.

Verosika pulled him closer by the waist, licking her lips. "You have such alluring eyes, cowboy. Reminds me of an anaconda hypnotizing her prey…" Striker grabbed her wrist before she could reach for the zipper of his pants. Verosika laughed, running her other hand down the line of his neck. "Let me kiss you…"

Her lips were inches away from Striker's when she heard a click and something pressing against her stomach: the blessed pistol, firmly held in the imp's hand.

"Nice try, sugar, but my heart already belongs to someone else." Striker sneered. Impressed, Verosika stepped back, smirking.

"Not bad, cowboy. Not everyone can resist my charms. Just for that, I'm offering you a deal."

"A deal?"

"A demon duel. I bet you and Vlitzo's sorry company can't off as many people as we can fuck by the end of the day. If you win, I'll return your parking spot. If I win," Verosika whispered into Striker's ear. Whatever she told him sent shivers down his spine.

Reluctantly, Striker looked up at the succubus, fists clenched. "Game on, bitch."

*HB*

"Alright, shut your assholes, here's how we're going to do this shit. First, we find a fuck ton of clients, we portal up, we have our fun murder time as per usual, we pill all the bodies into a big fucking canoe…" Striker didn't pay attention to the rest of Blitzo's ranting, instead distracting himself by polishing his angelic rifle. "Do you have any questions?"

Jake raised a hand. "What does orgy mean?"

Striker spat his mouthful of coffee right into Moxxie's face while the others exchanged nervous glances. Blitzo cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Let's say it's something you aren't supposed to know about for at least ten years. Now-"

"Where did you learn that word?!" Striker all but yelled, grabbing the impling by the shoulders.

"One of Verosika Mayday's songs is called 'Orgy' and I got curious."

"And where did you hear the song?"

"Loona was listening to it." Striker glared at the hellhound, but she merely shrugged.

"What? It's just a song. By the way, think I can come with you guys this time?"

"Absolutely not," Blitzo said, crossing his arms disapprovingly. "I forbid it. Not gonna happen. Sorry, sweetie. Spring break is no place for vulnerable goth girls. You know the kind of freaks yup there who'd drool all over you!"

"Well, I can blend in with humans easily enough. Just let me tag along."

Blitzo blinked. "Wait, say that again?"

"I can blend in…?"

"Do you have a human disguise?" Millie inquired.

"Yeah. Don't you?" Loona widened her eyes in realization. "Wait, you five have been screwing around on Earth this whole fucking time without human disguises?!"

"What if we did?" Jake asked.

"Let's say it's against the rules to be seen by humans in our real forms."

"Okay, new plan!" Blitzo made a new, crudely-made scribble. "Loonie can help lure the humans to us and we'll take care of the rest. Okay, how about that?"

"Flawless logic."

"There's one little detail. We need enough client killing demands to win this bet so I won't have to-" Striker trailed off as he recalled that Jake was listening. He cleared his throat. "How will we get so many clients in such little time?"

Blitzo grinned. "I got that covered, Strike."

*HB*

Basically, Loona just lured the people on the list to a secluded spot so they could kill them without anyone noticing. Jake still couldn't believe how hot Loona looked in human form.

Jake was sure that something was bothering his father. Ever since he returned from talking with Miss Mayday, Dad acted a bit… edgier than usual. He didn't tease Moxxie as often and focused more on killing the targets. But what gave him away was the fact that he was using the blessing-tipped rifle rather than the regular one. He only uses it when there's something on his mind.

By evening, they had killed twelve people, two offed by Jake with a broken bottle.

"That's twelve kills in the back!" Blitzo laughed as they continued to put the bodies into bags. "I'd like to see that waily snatch orgasm that many…"

"All right, spring breakers! Ya'll ready to get fucked up and make some bitchin' bad choices?!"

The group glanced in the direction of the nearby stage adorned in black and pink just as Verosika stepped out of the smoke in her own human disguise. All the humans on the beach roared in excitement as the concert began. Jake noticed something odd in their behavior. Once Verosika started to sing, they-

Something covered his eyes. "Hey!"

"You're not supposed to watch this, Jakey!" Millie cried out hurriedly. Striker gave her a thankful look.

"Goddammit! That bitch started her goadish mating call! Now she's gonna win all those sex maniacs! We gotta pick things up, guys! He's on the list, Loonie?"

"Huh? Y-Yeah… I-I think so." Striker realized that Loona hadn't even looked at the supposed target. Her attention was focused on Verosika's own hellhound.

"Blitz, I don't think-" Too late. Blitzo had already sliced through the human's skull.

"All right, next one, Loonie, come on." No reply. "Loonie? Wait, where-" Blitzo panicked once he realized Loona was nowhere to be seen. "Where's my baby?!" Striker merely pointed towards Verosika's hellhound. There she was.

"And… We've lost him." Moxxie sighed as Blitzo stomped his way towards the hellhounds.

"Can't blame him. I wouldn't like any guys sniffing 'round my daughter either." Striker murmured. "Anyhow, looks like we'll have to handle the rest of the list."

Millie laughed in excitement. "Hell yeah! Team MMSJ getting shit down!"

Jake wanted to help with the killing spree, but his father put him on a table behind some beer barrels, blindfolded him with his red scarf, and firmly told him to wait for him there. So the impling sat there with a big pout on his face, arms crossed. What's up with dad today?!

"Yeah, party!"

The table was knocked over without warning. Jake fell face flat onto the ground. "Ow! What the…?!"

"Eeww! Oh my god! Fucking possums!"

"Wait, what?" Jake lifted the blindfold and realized the humans had seen him. Before he could try to escape, he was grabbed by the tail and shoved into a barrel of beer.

"Ow! Jake?!"

"Moxxie?! What's going on?!"

"I don't know, I think the humans mistook us for opossums!"

The two imps were thrown about within that confined space, sometimes getting submerged under the beer. They accidentally ended up taking big gulps of the alcoholic beverage.

*HB*

"That boy is in so much trouble!"

He gives him one simple instruction: wait at the table. Then he returns ten minutes later to find Jake and the table gone.

"Hey, Mildred! Have you seen Jake 'round here?" Striker asked Millie as soon as he saw per peering into a barrel.

"He and Moxxie are inside one of these barrels!"

"What? What the fuck are they doing in there?!"

One of the nearby barrels wobbled. Striker tipped it over with a kick, spilling out the remaining beer as well as two familiar imps.

"Moxxie!"

"Jake!"

"Millieee!" Moxxie blurted out in a drunken state. "Hey, when did you get four heads? I wanna kiss 'em!"

"Jake? Are you okay, kiddo? Striker grabbed his son by the shoulders. "Answer me, boy!"

"Hey, daddy! The impling said in-between hiccups." "This water's soo tasty! Can I have more?"

Striker rubbed his temple. "Wonderful. My kiddo's drunk and he's only nine."

"Chill out, cowboy! Just don't tell Striker 'cause he'll make a fuss!" Moxxie giggled.

Striker would have made a fuss if not for the massive sea monster that emerged from the ocean. A loud roar sent most of the humans running away from the beach, but Moxie and Jake were completely unfazed.

"Oooh, fishy! Can I keep it, daddy?"

A long, slippery tongue wrapped around Moxxie and Jake as they were pulled into the monster's mouth.

Striker and Milli exchanged determined nods. The former shot a nearby human to take his bottle and make a molotov cocktail, which he threw at the monster. The explosion was enough to make the creature fall. The imps swam towards the mutant fish, digging their respective knives into its hide just as it got back on its feet. They managed to climb towards the mouth and pry the jaws open; Moxxie and Jake, still in the tongue's grasp, were clumsily punching the monster's uvula. Millie reached out for their hands, but instead of clasping it, the drunken imps merely gave her a high-five.

"Oh, for the love of…!" Losing his patience, Striker went into the mouth and sliced the tongue off. The fish shrieked in pain and spat out the severed organ, and its two captives, with it.

However, the abrupt movement slipped the angelic rifle off Striker's shoulder and sent it down the beast's throat. "Oh, no, you don't! Mildred, think you could keep this thing busy?!"

"Striker, what are you doing?!"

The cowboy took out his knife. "I'm gonna retrieve my weapon."

*HB*

Millie and Striker swam back to the beach, both panting heavily. The latter was covered in the creature's blood after slicing open its entrails, his rifle held tightly in one hand and the bloodied knife in the other. They reunited with Blitzo, Moxxie, and Jake on the shore.

"Oh, yeah, way to show off, guys!· Blitzo cheered.

"Are Mox and Jakey okay?" Millie asked.

"Oh, yeah. They're fine." Blitzo looked down at the still-drunken imps in his arms and dropped only Moxxie to the ground.

Thankfully, Jake had fallen asleep; his young age made him less tolerant of the heavy alcoholized state. Striker carefully took the boy in his arms.

"Aww, they grow up so fast!" Blitzo chirped, teary-eyed, as he watched Jake snuggle in his father's embrace.

Sadly, the relief didn't last long as Verosika and her crew approached.

"That was handled rather… Obvious, don't you think?" Verosika sneered.

"You know, I found this," Striker held up a black and silver flask decorated with hearts. "While slicing through that creature's entrails," he smirked. "And I know for certain that it doesn't belong to any of us." That said, he tossed the flask back to its owner.

"Would be a shame if anyone found out you guys were behind a giant monster fish in the human world." Millie sneered.

"Oh satan! You all be so… fucked! Haha…!" Moxxie laughed in his drunken stupor.

Verosika was taken aback by the realization that they were right. "Yeah, well, you five nasty ass gremlins will be in shit for not being in disguises." she countered.

"A human called me a possum. I'm not a possum!" Moxxie collapsed face-first into the ground.

"And given that the humans who saw us were in a deep alcoholic intoxication state, they'll probably think it was a product of their imagination." Striker added with a sneer of his own.

Blitzo chuckled. "You know, we could keep this little Bee movie scene on the down-low if you agree to let us use that parking space." Striker nearly laughed at the sour, almost childish scowl on the succubus's face. She was against the ropes and she knew it.

·...Fine."

While the others cheered at their victory, Striker merely sighed in deep relief.

"Hey, Strike, now that we're on it, what did that bitch say you'd have to do if we lost?" Blitzo asked later that day.

Striker's only response was a loud slurping sound with a straw as he enjoyed a well-deserved meatshake.

[wazzupmrstark]

breaking curfew [part thirteen] || th x reader

A/N: shoutout to my gf @httpchrisevans for helping me with a line i was stuck on lol

Summary: When you got the job to be a counselor at the summer camp you’d grown up attending all your life, you expected to see some familiar faces. But you certainly hadn’t counted on having to work alongside the boy who had made it his life’s mission to make your life a living hell every summer. In fact, you thought you’d never have to see Tom Holland again. But he’s is in the cabin right across from yours with campers of his own- smirk, jawline, and all. If you didn’t know any better you might’ve thought that he applied for the position just to spite you, but who were you kidding? What kind of asshole would do something like that?

Warnings: swearing, angst

What I listened to while writing: the breaking curfew playlist by @cinnamon-roll-peter​​

Word Count: 2.6k

Series Masterlist

You spent a good fifteen minutes ironing your polo in Zendaya’s cabin after your shower that morning. You needed it to look as pristine in order to make a good impression on the parents this weekend. Well, as good of an impression as you could make with your arm in a neon cast.

Parent’s weekend couldn’t have come at a worse time for you. You already were a mess inside and out, and after that conversation with Fy you didn’t feel like doing anything other than crawling into bed and and hibernating for a few weeks until camp was over so you never had to face him or Tom ever again. 

“Jesus, y/n, I think all the wrinkles are out! You’re going to burn the fucking shirt if you keep doing that!” Z shouted and leapt off her bed to grab the iron from your hands. 

“Sorry, I just want it to look presentable,” you apologized and took a step back, rubbing your temples.

“It looks fine, babe. Any stiffer and I don’t think you’d be able to put it on.” She gave you a sideways look. “You okay?”

It was no use lying to her because she could always tell when you were so you just shook your head. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You gave another shake of your head and sighed. “I can’t start crying right now, we’ve got to go deal with these parents in like five minutes.”

“Is it about Tom because I’m still taller than him, I can still beat him up.” 

“Is it ever not about Tom?”

Z screwed up her face in distaste. “Bastard.”

“Easy, Tiger, you don’t even know what he’s done yet.”

“I don’t need to know, he's an asshole.”

 She had a point. “You have a point. But if anyone’s gonna beat him up it’s me.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I’d spend my life savings to see that.”

“Oh and what is that, twenty bucks?”

“What is that twenty bucks?” she repeated mockingly and flipped you off.

You rolled your eyes.  “Can you just get over here and help me with my shirt?”

Buttons were harder to do with one hand and on normal days you’d just take the extra time to painstakingly fasten them yourself, but since your best friend was right there you figured you might as well make her useful.

Once your shirt was buttoned all the way up and tucked into your khaki shorts (the uniforms were literally the best birth control) you made the trek back to your own cabin to wait for the parents. 

All the campers were at the dining hall for breakfast with the bonus counselors because the primaries were supposed to greet the parents at their cabins to avoid all the chaos... and potential tears, which meant you’d have to put on your best smile and pretend like everything was perfectly fine. It had seemed easy enough to do merely an hour ago, but now even thinking about it was making your head spin. 

But you’d have to do your best to push all of that down because a thin, blonde lady was making her way towards you with an expectant look on her face. You recognized her as May’s mother, and it didn’t surprise you that she was first. 

She reintroduced herself and shook your hand. “So how did you break your arm again?” she asked, not wasting any time. “It wasn’t while doing anything dangerous, was it?”

An email had been sent by your boss to all of the parents/guardians of your campers detailing the entire situation when it had happened just to keep them in the loop, but clearly this woman wanted to hear it straight from the source. It was evident that she’d been agonizing about it for weeks, wondering if her child was actually safe here. 

“No,” you reassured her, “it was during a counselors-only activity, don’t worry. There weren’t any campers involved.”

She seemed to relax a little and laughed artificially. “Oh good, my husband and I were a little spooked when we got that email, but I’m glad you’re doing okay.”

She actually hadn’t asked how you were doing and obviously didn’t really care either way so you just forced a smile. “Thank you.”

Then before she could mention anything else Grace’s dads arrived with Amalia’s parents not far behind. They each exchanged niceties with you before falling into amicable chatter amongst themselves, leaving you to hang back in silence. 

You were grateful not to have to participate and instead rocked back and forth on your heels as you anxiously waited for your campers to get back from breakfast. 

They’d been so excited last night while deep cleaning the cabin in preparation, they didn’t even complain about their chores. Theo had even offered to help the other girls with their tasks so it could get done faster, but secretly you knew she was only doing it because she was a bit of a perfectionist and wanted everything to be just so for the special weekend. 

Eva’s parents arrived next, then finally Theo’s mom jogged up to the porch just in time for the kids to return from the caf. 

There was a lot of loud chatter and laughter as the families hugged and got reacquainted with each other and it made your heart ache just a little. You remembered what it was like to be that young, to drag your mom and dad around campus for the entire weekend and ramble on about all of your activities and new friends and whatever else you could think of. You had to catch them up on everything they missed, tell them all of the stories you’d been saving all summer. The nostalgia was like a punch in the stomach on top of everything else and suddenly you weren’t sure if you’d actually be able to pull this weekend off. 

You gave them a few more minutes to talk before getting the parents’ attention and inviting everyone inside for a family circle time. 

The girls excitedly showed their parents their bunks and pointed out all of the decorations that had accrued on the walls of the cabin since the beginning of the summer. The coloring pages from that very first day, art projects and medals from daily activities, postcards from family, and dozens of developed pictures of the girls from your disposable camera hung up around the room. Your favorite was a photo of the six of you at the Wild West night from a couple weeks ago. Everyone had a different colored plastic cowboy hat on and was posing back to back with a partner holding up finger guns. You were back to back with Eva and the height difference between the two of you was absolutely ridiculous. Just looking at the picture made you laugh. 

Once everyone settled on the floor you cleared your throat and started the programming. 

“Good morning, it’s great to see you all again, glad you could make it. I’m y/n, cabin eleven counselor, and we’re so excited to get to share our camp life with you for the next few days! First, I’m just gonna go over the itinerary for the weekend and then you can hit me with any questions you have before we head down for the big group meeting.”

-

“How’re your kids’ parents?” Tom asked at lunch later that day as he casually brushed up against your ass.

You whipped around and smacked his hand away almost immediately out of instinct. Tom gave you a look like a wounded puppy and retracted his hand. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, still looking confused. “Are you... okay?”

“I-” you looked up and caught the eye of one of your parents back at your table and smiled painfully. “Yeah, I’m good.”

For whatever reason he pretended to buy it and shrugged. “Okay, well listen, I’ve been thinking and I was wondering if you’d consider switching activities back to arts and crafts with me?”

You almost dropped the jello you were putting on your tray, but Tom caught it smoothly before it fell. 

“What?”

“I was wondering if you wanted to come back to arts and crafts...” he trailed off awkwardly, “because, you know, we’re kind of in a different place now.” 

When you didn’t say anything he continued to stumble on. “I, uh, just thought it would be nice to spend more time together... not having sex.” 

You opened your mouth but words wouldn’t come out. 

“Whaddya say?” 

It was hard to remember why you were mad at him when he looked at you like that. But it was also hard to forget what he had done. 

“Y/n?”

“Um, I have to go,” you said suddenly and turned on your heel. “My arm is hurting. I have to go get my pain meds.”

“Wait, y/n-”

As you hurried out of the cafeteria you threw a look over your shoulder at Nicole asking to take over for you until you got back. You hoped she got the message. 

It felt like the whole caf was watching as you ran out of the room, leaving Tom standing there by himself. Your campers didn’t even blink as you rushed by them. They were pretty used to it at this point. 

The noise from inside faded into the background as soon as you stepped onto the grass. You looked around and realized you didn’t know where exactly you were running to, much less what you were really running from. 

You didn’t want to go to your cabin just in case Tom or someone else went after you. You didn’t want to go down to the lake where everyone could see you either. The bonus cabin wasn’t an option and neither was the canoe shed. You wanted to scream. For the first time in your life you felt trapped in your favorite place on earth. It was suffocating, being stuck on this mountain with all the people from your past, but there was nowhere to go. 

You ended up sunken down in the back seat of your van, playing with your keys as tears streamed down your face. It felt stupid to cry. You’d known Tom for over half your life, and you’d known exactly the kind of person he was when you started sleeping with him. You really played yourself with that one.

You wished you could spend the rest of your day hiding from Tom in your car, but you still had a cabin full of campers and their parents waiting for you. You couldn’t stick them with Nicole for too long. She had her own responsibilities to take care of this weekend too.

-

Your girls were ecstatic to have their parents in town. It was all they talked about that evening after they were dropped back off at the cabin. 

“My dad said your cast is cool,” Grace said as she climbed into her bed. 

You finished looping a hair tie on the end of Theo’s braid and looked up. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, he said he had one too when he was your age and that casts make you look cool, but my other dad just laughed at him and said he wishes.”

“Well, tell him I say thank you,” you laughed.

As your campers finished getting ready for bed you went around the room like you always did and picked up anything that was lying on the floor. You kicked some stray shoes under the beds so no one would trip on them in the middle of the night and turned off the light before saying your good nights. 

“Good night, sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite!”

They had started saying it back to you just recently and they were slowly getting better at saying it all in unison too. It made every night a little sweeter. 

You expected your mind to be swimming with thoughts of Tom that night, but you found yourself thinking about your girls instead. Parents weekend had always been bittersweet for you because as fun as it was, it also meant that the end of the summer was right around the corner. You felt like you had just started to get to know your campers and now in just a few weeks you’d be saying goodbye.

-

It was Sunday evening when Tom managed to corner you next. You had spent all weekend avoiding him by sticking close to the parents in your group, always pretending to be engaged in a conversation when he came anywhere near you. And it always worked, but now the parents were gone and you had to fend for yourself. It felt oddly similar to being dropped off at college for the first time and feeling completely lost.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” he asked you as you walked up to Harrison’s cabin.

It was then that you realized that you’d fallen into a trap. Haz had texted you asking to bring the geocaching clues over to his cabin so he could go plot the course for tomorrow when really he was probably just doing a favor for Tom by getting you here.

“I haven’t been avoiding you,” you lied, biting your lip as you did.

“That’s bullshit, you haven’t talked to me all weekend, you haven’t texted me back, you’ve been ignoring me-”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you gave a fuck about me all of the sudden,” you snapped bitterly and pushed past him to go back down the stairs.

“Wha- I was just worried!” Tom said defensively and sidestepped back in front of you.

“About me?” 

“Well, yeah,” he admitted. “I’m sorry if I made things weird by asking about arts and crafts. We don’t have to have that sort of relation-er, friendship if you don’t want to.”

You never thought you’d hear Tom say the word friendship in reference to you. The word alone sounded foreign rolling off his tongue, like it was something he wasn’t really sure about.

You scoffed. “This isn’t about that.”

“Then what is it about?” he asked, practically begging now.

“It’s about you spending over a fucking decade trying to embarrass me!”

Tom looked bewildered. “Are you kidding me? That’s what this is about?”

“And don’t you dare say we were just kids, or that it wasn’t that big of a deal because it was a big deal. To me.” He still looked confused so you decided to spell it out for him. “Why did you tell Fy that I had a crush on you that summer?”

The memory flickered in front of Tom’s eyes as he realized what you were talking about and his expression shifted into one you couldn’t read.

“I spent weeks trying to figure out why he stopped talking to me, wondering what I had done wrong to make him not want to be friends with me anymore.” You were crying again, but this time you didn’t care. “Then one day after total radio silence I get a note from him saying to meet me on the dock after curfew? And you show up instead? Don’t you realize how fucked up that is? And now all these years later I let myself fall for you like all the girls I swore I’d never be. I fell for you even though you made my life hell every summer for years, even though you hated me and I didn’t even know why-” you stopped to catch your breath and sighed, shaking your head. “It’s... it’s fucking embarrassing.”

“Y/n,” Tom reached out for your shoulder, but you jerked away. Only then did you realize that he was also crying. He took a step back and pushed a hand through his curls like he did when he was trying to get his thoughts together. “Fuck, I- I messed up really bad.”

“You don’t say?” you chuckled dryly and rolled your eyes. 

“No, you don’t understand,” he insisted.

“Enlighten me then.”

“I only signed that note as Fy because I knew you wouldn’t show up if it was from me.”

idk why this part was so hard to get out but lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

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[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Cowboy.”

Wanted to try something new.  Aliens meet different ways of living. Was trying to really capture the small town farming feel in this one. Granted I grew up in and near places like this but was from the burbs technically, so, lol, hopefully I did it justice. 

The sky over Jakar was a light violet purple.

Strings of long striated clouds cut across the sky at intervals looking like the ripples you see on the face of a sand dune. The Sun hadn’t yet risen hiding just below the distant horizon. The air around them was warm, but not tropical, rather moderate.

Standing on the loading ramp to the Harbinger and staring out over the strange moon, they could see for miles and miles onto the unbroken horizon. Under the purple sky, there were no trees or rocks, just acres and acres of evenly spaced crops gently rolling over minute hills and shallow divots in the earth. A gently wind blew up from their front rolling over the ground and bringing with it the cool moist scent of fertile dirt.

The sun inched upwards over the horizon, casting a honeyed yellow glow over an unbroken sea of green. With the engines of the ship off, and not a soul in sight, the scene before them was absolutely silent, almost surreal.

As they watched, a ripple of wind blew up from their right churning the green sea before them into a stormy sea. The plant stalks rolled in waves under the slow push of the wind, which, when it reached them, brought the subtle whisper of leaves brushing over each other.

All together, if they closed their eyes, they could almost imagine the sound of a distant sea.

Both Krill and sunny were riveted to that quiet morning in fascination. 

They had never known a thing to be so beautiful, so quiet.

And even though the land was touched by man, the quiet serenity almost had them forgetting that fact.

They stood like that for many minutes, enjoying the silence until a distant sound rose up from the horizon.

Krill craned his neck and Sunny shaded her eyes.

It can in beats of four, a rhythmic thudding of…. something .

They were alerted by the dust cloud, brown tinged purple rising up from the right.

Looking a little longer,they watched as a very strange creature galloped towards them. The animal had four legs, a long snout, a thick neck, and streams of long hair flying from it’s head and rump. THe joints of its front legs faced the wrong direction.

Krill shifted back up the ramp a little ways.

The beats of the animal’s feet grew louder as it got closer, and only then was Krill able to see that, to his shock and dismay, there was a human riding astride it’s back, just casually sitting atop the one ton beast as if it was nothing bouncing up and down with the animal’s jostling movements.

He stared dumbstruck alongside Sunny as the human pulled to a stop gently tugging at the contraption which had been fixed around the animal’s head.

A familiar tawny, and black dog came chasing after her tail wagging, her ears perked.

Waffles skidded to a slow trot and began frantically sniffing through the nearby plot of plants.

Sunny and Krill stepped forward as the human, turned to look at them, restings his hands against his upper thighs as the beast lowered it’s head to sniff at the ground.

“What the hell are you wearing?” Sunny asked the commander.

“A better question is what the hell are you riding.” Krill could already tell this day was going to make him angry, “Aren't you well aware that falling off that thing could kill you, not to mention if it decided to cave your head in with its feet.”

Commander Vir pulled the patterned cloth triangle down from around his face, eyes mostly shadowed by the brim of the very dorky hat he was wearing. The shirt he had on was long sleeve and mid range blue in color with a collar, and matching jeans with a very strange set of heeled boots.

“Forgot you've never seen a horse before.”

He kicked one of his feet up over the top the back of the creature and let himself gently down onto the dirt.

The large animal turned it’s massive head, nudging him in the chest with it’s soft pink snout.

He smiled and rubbed it’s nose.

“A horse?”

“Yes, one of man’s greatest achievements.”

The horse threw its head up and down as if in agreement.

“A knobby kneed dog creature?”

“No a knobby kneed beast of burden, from the back of which humanity conquered the world. He patted it’s neck, “These guys are the reason humanity got as far as it did, at least one fo the reasons.

Krill stared at the ‘horse’ nervously staring into its wide dark eyes, sensing a hint of cunning intelligence that he did not particularly appreciate. Sunny stepped forward a bit, and the horse lifted it’s head, wide nostrils flaring menacingly. 

It stepped back, and the commander held firm, “Woah, easy girl. It’s just sunny.”

The horse didn’t seem convinced, and Sunny stayed at a polite distance.

“Commander, I must insist, that beast could kick your head in if agitated.”

“Oh I know. Believe you me I know.”

The horse tossed it’s head.

“Can we get back to the important question of….. What the hell are you wearing?”

He looked down, “This, my fine friend is the historic gear of the Cowboy, and early symbol of the west, your rough and tumble man’s man who lived rough, worked hard, and is, arguably the symbol of human manifest destiny.”

“I have no idea what you just said.”

The commander sighed, “Look they were total badasses who rode horses, shot guns, and drank too much.”

“Badasses who wore heels?” Sunny wondered 

“Yes, yes they were.”

“And where did you get that outfit exactly?”

He tugged at the shirt rather proudly, “My mother made it for me, you know because that is what she does for a living.”

“Do you often commission really dumb clothing from your mother.” Sunny continued to tease.

“I have an outfit for every major time period from here to to the early Byzantine empire.” He bragged, not that it meant anything.

Her continued teasing was cut off as more noises rose up from the distance, the sound of hooves and the shrill chatter of, what Sunny could only assume was the horses. A larger dust cloud was riding up this time, and as she watched, another group of human came riding down the track. At least three of them riding horseback and wearing outfits much the same as the commander now wore. Though one of them was riding on the front of a strange wooden vehicle pulled by the creatures.

And krill had thought current human technology was primitive.

The two men, and one woman came to a halt just to their side, and looking them over, Krill couldn't help but notice the strange nature of these humans, tanned dark by the sun, their skin tough and calloused, especially about the hands. Though it was early morning they were already covered in dust. One of them touched the brim of his hat upon seeing them and dismounted from his horse walking over to shake the commander’s hand.

“I’m gonna assume your Commander Vir.” He looked around, “Seeing as you’re the only human here.”

“Yes sir.”

His voice was deep, and rather slow with a sort of relaxing quality to it, though there was an edge of steel behind his voice, “Didn’t think you fancy space captains knew how to ride horses.”

“My father worked on one of the farming conglomerates when I was a boy. He made sure we knew how to ride.”

“Smart man.” The old human turned his steely brown eyes on them looking sunny and Krill up and down though he didn’t seem all that surprised. He held out a hand to sunny, “Looks like you’ve got plenty of hands to shake.”

She chirped a laugh and took his hand surprised at how strong  he was, how rough his hands were.

Krill received a nod which was more than alright by him. He turned back and motioned to his companions, “Meet, Jack my son, and Liz y daughter. They volunteered to help out with our little problem.”

“Smugglers you were saying.” 

“Yes. We think they are some of those Tesraki types using our fields as stop points. Wouldn’t mind it so much if they didn’t keep destroying the product. They tend to land where we plant the pink orbs-” He looked at sunny, “Think they are from your planet. A bitch to get to grow here, we have to cut the soil with imported volcanic ash to get them to grow, and every time those bastards show up we lose a yield.” 

His daughter motioned at Sunny and Krill to climb up onto the strange wooden death machine with wheels. At first Krill refused, but sunny grabbed him and hauled him upwards, sitting on one of the  wooden benches. 

Krill reused to sit.

He could see splinters.

“They aren’t supposed to be in for another few days though.” The two men had mounted their horses and were riding side by side now as the ‘what krill learned to be a cart’ started up, rolling over the uneven ground and threatening to rattle his brains out of his head.

“Doesn’t this thing have shocks.” he moaned 

The humans laughed, and the head human turned back to look at him, “Don’t need socks on a wagon…..” He paused, “This one ain’t mch for country livin’”

The commander snorted, “He isn’t much for anything new. Guess you could say he’s a big city surgeon. I don’t think his  species has been without automated assistance for the past ten thousand years. But Sunny there probably gets it, her clan was mainly gatherer types.”

“Yeah, I heard about the Drev. Don’t live so differently from us all told.” beside them lines and lines of crops grew up in the distance, a never ending line broken up by nothing more than a distant building rising many stories above the fields. Massive silver constructions in cylinders with pointy tops.

“What are those?” Sunny asked, pointing.

The daughter looked “Those are silos. Once we harvest the produce, all the food goes in there for storage until we sell it.”

“So much food.” Sunny muttered 

Krill didn’t like the look of them, they appeared dangerous. Up ahead of them, the dog, waffles seemed to be enjoying herself romping about over the dirt road and through the first few lines of plants her tongue lolling her ears up.

“Your Shepherd seems happy.” The man commented, “Better then being cooped up in a flying tin can.”

“Yeah , she doesn’t get to go outside much these days.”

Looking up into the distance, Krill could just make out a slow break on the horizon. They were trees as far as he could tell, which surprised him since they seemed far to big to be here, as unnatural a species as they were.

“Are those oak trees?” The Captain asked, incredulous.

“That they are, got them imported in one of those massive fraighters. Putting them in the ground was complete bullshit, but they took surprisingly well. We wanted the two to be a bit more cozy. 

The closer they got to town the more people they could see. Children ran in and out of the crop lines chasing each other and laughing. 

Women carried baskets with them plucking bright red berries from tall growths of plants turning to wave at them as they passed.

Horses loitered, tied up on the sides of the road next to large, elegant houses in a style Krill had never seen before.

“Wow.” The commander muttered, “This is…. Wow.”

The man smiled, “Much as I love earth, you can’t live like this any more. No more small towns. When I heard how cheep they were selling land up here for, I couldn’t resist. Worked for one of those corporations like your father, and that’s when I heard about the deal going on. Come up here, farm the land and get the property for free.” He motioned to the houses and the barns, “Built most of it with our own two hands. Machinery is a bitch to get out here, so most everything we make by ourselves.”

Krill and sunny stared on in complete fascination. The wooden buildings held together by nothing more than sharp metal spikes, still multiple stories tall and with glass windows. What little technology there was was overshadowed by just how provincial everything was. People carrying buckets of water with their own two hands, polishing boots, and sawing off planks of wood with manual blades.

And despite that, how much more difficult everything probably was, they seemed happy. The people themselves were rough, but well put together, tanned skin, and bright eyes over calloused hands and straight backed postures full of confidence and pride. As they rode past they received nothing but friendly smiles and waved greetings.

Adam was practically a pampered, prim little pretty boy in comparison to the rest, and he was a one eyed, peg legged, space captain for intents and purposes.

A pleasantly plump dark skinned woman waved at them from her porch, where she sat in a very strange looking chair, which instead of legs, had skids? And rocked when she shifted her weight. Which seemed to be the intention.

Sunny and Krill raised their hands back, not sure of what else to do.

The man at the front sighed, “Man you can’t live like this anymore, not on earth anyway.”

Commander vir was looking around with an appreciative smile, “it’s like going back in time. Dam…. it’s nice here.”

“Almost makes you want to get your feet back on solid dirt?” The man wondered 

The commander laughed, “I don’t think so. Your town is great, but there is nothing like the majesty of waking up and seeing the rings of saturn outside our bedroom window, or a nebulae thousands of light years wide, or stepping out of the ship and just…. Floating weightless like nothing can hold you down ever again.”

The man shuttered, “Can’t imagine.”

“Can’t imagine but can’t forget.”

Adam’s horse tossed it’s head and he patted it on the neck.

The other human shook his head, “Cut from a different mold I guess. I’d like nothing more than an honest day’s work under the sun getting my hands dirty. None of that outer space politics.”

Adam laughed, “I suppose I forget about politics most of the time. Honestly consider myself more of an adventurer discovering new planets and new species bravely going where no man has gone before sort of thing.”

The two of them laughed together.

Krill wondered at the strangeness of humanity. Here were two men, one of them a ship captain venturing into the unknown on one of the most advanced pieces of human technology ever created  flying shuttles, talking with aliens and traversing the galaxy, while there was another human a lover of dirt beneath his hands, with no desire to leave his home, or likely even go outside it’s farm’s radius, content with living the same day for the rest of his life, with the same people, building everything with his hands, living without what seemed to be the most basic of human technologies.

And here they were sitting together speaking and laughing.

Getting along despite being so different.

Because humans can just do that.

Humans understand. 

[champhangman]

Impulse

He turned his head to look at her. Wondered if he'd ever be able to see her and breathe normally.

Hangman Adam Page/OFC

A/N: A little h/c. A little angst. A bit of smut. Just trying to get this fucking cowboy off my tits. (It's not working.) This is all Emi and Ashley’s fault.

TW: Mentions of abuse

Part 1/2

@adampage / @cowboysht / @lilmisswhiskeygypsy / @evilangel84​ / @bigpixiefoot / @mindofasagittaruis​  / @sadcountess / @kalliravenne​/ @baronsbelleevangeline

*****

When he first saw her she was stepping out of the stagecoach. Despite the length of time she'd spent in the cramped quarters she looked remarkably fresh and neat. Her bearing was serene, and when she lifted her light brown eyes to his face, she had smiled so prettily it had taken his breath away.

"Miss Stone?"

"Yes?"

"I was sent to collect you." He tipped his hat and introduced himself while the conductor began unloading luggage.

"Oh, thank you," she said, extending her hand.

He looked from it to her face then back again, and finally grasped her gloved hand, giving it a quick shake before letting go. "I'll just get your things loaded up into the wagon then we'll be on the way."

She wanted to stretch her legs before they left to go to the ranch and instructed her maid to wait at the wagon. Adam, remembering his boss's orders that he take care of Miss Stone as though she were one of his prized horses, followed her to the plank walkway.

Adam was sure his boss didn't want him to take her on a long ride, rub her down, then slap her on the rump and give her some oats, though. So, he walked alongside her as she made her way down, past the saloon and the hotel and the dry goods. Her steps slowed when they neared the general store, and when she turned to go back, he followed, hoping her legs were stretched enough.

"What brings you to Cedar Grove, ma'am?" he asked as they reached where he'd left the wagon. Stopping to smooth Thistle's muzzle with his hand, he reached into his jacket pocket for a lump of sugar, smiling when the horse nickered before taking it into his mouth. He saw she was waiting by the wagon, and realized she expected him to help her up. Dusting his palms on his thighs, he walked over and held out a hand.

She took it and boosted herself up, flopping onto the bench with a soft sigh. Once he'd climbed up next to her and picked up the reins, she had situated herself and was glancing back at her maid. She didn't speak until they had traversed through the clog of pedestrians, horses, and running children. "I'm here to meet my husband."

***

He saw her few times between that first day and the day she got married. Glimpses of her, always with her little maid, as she walked the grounds around the main house or climbed into the coach to go into town. If he were near enough for her to speak she always did, and she always gave him that pretty little smile that made it difficult to remember how to breathe.

He saw her immediately after the wedding, entering the beribboned back yard on her new husband's arm. He hadn't gone to the service, having never enjoyed sitting on an uncomfortable bench and watch two poor souls join together forever. The sight of her in virginal white silk and lace snatched his breath and made his jaw forget how to work, and it wasn't until she and her new husband neared him that he realized he was gaping at her.

"Adam," she said sweetly when she saw him. Again that pretty smile. Again those light brown eyes shining.

"Ma'am." He dipped his head briefly. "Congratulations."

"Thank you." Her smile was positively serene as they continued to the head table, where they could be seen and see everyone else.

There was drinking. Eating. Dancing. Revelry. It was an evening of celebration. A few of the hands had a little too much to drink and there was a fight, but it was quickly settled and the merriment continued. Until, to the hoots, whistles, and cheers of all the men, the boss led his new wife inside the house. There was a moment of silence and nearly everyone was watching the window they all knew belonged to the boss's bedroom. When shadows played against the curtains there was a rowdy cheer and the festivity went on.

Adam, having lost count of how many drinks he'd consumed, stumbled away from the party, telling himself he was just gonna take a piss before rejoining the others. The next day… He blinked, tried to figure out what time it was. Today? The day after the wedding was a rare day off for all the hands. He would just have to drag himself out of his bunk and see to it the horses were fed and watered, and make sure the stable boys cleaned the stalls, then he could sleep off the gallons of alcohol he consumed at the party.

He weaved around the side of the house, the noise of everyone else fading away once he reached the front. Unbuttoning his pants, he sighed as he aimed at the scraggly bush growing next to the porch. Bracing one hand on the wall, he whistled a jaunty tune while he pissed. The damn bush kept moving, dodging his aim. Finished, he sighed contentedly and was tucking himself back into his pants when he heard it.

A tiny whimper.

Ah, hell, had he pissed on a cat?

Another whimper.

Worse, had he pissed on a kid?

Staggering forward, he peered into the shadows of the bush. He heard the sound again and realized it was coming from the porch. Concern pushed away his inebriation and he rounded the porch with a frown, lurching to a stop at the sight of her sitting on the steps.

Miss Stone.

Only she wasn't Miss Stone anymore. She was now Mrs. Stevens.

And instead of being upstairs completing the deal, she was out here. Wearing a billowy nightgown. And crying.

Crying?

He understood that sex wasn't always enjoyable for a woman, even though he couldn't make out why. It wasn't impossible to make sure a woman received pleasure. But why was she crying?

"Ma'am," he blurted, pitching forward.

She gasped and he couldn't blame her. A man suddenly tumbling up the steps and landing next to her had to be a surprise. He barely managed to break his fall and noticed that the steps felt like silk beneath his fingers. He rubbed at it, slowly realizing he was holding onto part of her nightgown.

It was white, that virginal shade she'd been wearing earlier. It was soft. Too soft for the likes of him, he thought, even as he rolled to his side so he could get a better feel. Nice. Frowning when it began to slide away, he looked up to see her jerking the fabric from his fingers.

"Sorry, ma'am," he mumbled, boosting himself upright and slowly sitting a step beneath her.

"Adam?"

"Yep." He leaned back. Caught the scent of lilacs and felt a sudden sensation of homesickness. Of the lilac bushes blooming heavily in the spring. Fresh grass beneath his bare feet. The creek babbling behind the house. His mother laughing. He inhaled deeply and knew the scent was coming from her.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"Just fine, ma'am." He rubbed his chin and lifted his drink for a sip. Only to realize he wasn't holding a drink. Not wanting to appear a fool, he swatted at an invisible insect and cleared his throat. "And you?"

"What about me?"

"You alright?"

She didn't answer. He heard her inhale. Exhale. A soft sigh. He turned his head to look at her. Wondered if he'd ever be able to see her and breathe normally. Her hair was down, a long braid draping over her shoulder. The end hung near her elbow in a tiny curl and for some reason he reached over and wound it around his finger.

Soft. Just like her nightgown. Just like her pretty smiles. Just like he imagined her lips and skin were. Not that he would ever know. Holding the curl, he carefully guided the braid back over her shoulder, grunting when she flinched. "Ma'am?"

"I should go back inside," she whispered.

But she didn't move.

He let his hand drop. Breathed in the aroma of lilacs. Listened to her occasional sniffles. The party was a thousand miles away, a faint hum in the back of his mind, along with all its alcohol and the promise that his bunk wouldn't be empty later. He found he was content to stay where he was, sprawled next to her on the steps, the fog of inebriation fading along with her sniffles.

When she rose to her feet he did as well. He took her hand in his to make sure she made it inside safely, and wondered why her eyes looked so sad when she hesitated at the door.

"Goodnight, Adam," she said softly.

"Goodnight, ma'am."

"And thank you."

"I didn't do nothing, ma'am."

"Yes you did."

He'd been right. Her lips were soft. Softer than her hair. Softer than her nightgown. They were warm and sweet against his scruffy cheek, then they were gone.

And he was left staring at the closed door.

***

In the weeks immediately following the wedding he didn't see her. Not that he looked. She was untouchable, despite her feather-soft lips and sweet smell and pretty smiles. He was pretty sure that if Mr. Stevens knew he'd touched her nightgown he would have been horsewhipped and dismissed without a penny to his name. He kept his head down when the boss came out to check on the horses, lest the man see it in his eyes, and kept his thoughts of Mrs. Stevens at the back of his mind.

Except at night, when she slipped to the forefront just as he fell asleep.

Sometimes she was in that billowy nightgown.

Sometimes in her wedding dress.

Sometimes in nothing at all.

It didn't matter what she wore in his dreams. The result was always the same. He'd jerk awake, pulse thrumming, cock hard. He'd lie in his bunk, holding his breath and biting his blanket to keep from making noise while he attempted to quench his lust with his hand.

In desperation, he visited Miss Emmy's place. But despite the pretty ladies parading back and forth he couldn't bring himself to take one upstairs. Instead he stayed downstairs in the salon, gulping down Miss Emmy's good whiskey and cursing his inability to fuck women he'd fucked in the past. All because of a pretty smile and a pair of soft lips.

After returning to the ranch and putting his horse up for the night he strolled in the moonlight, as he'd become accustomed to doing. And, as he had most nights, he ventured around the front of the house, stopping near the scraggly bush.

That night, though, he saw he wasn't alone.

She was there. Not sitting on the steps whimpering, but standing, nightgown rippling in the breeze. Her face was tilted to the heavens. He anticipated the breathlessness but it still caught him off guard. He took a few steps forward, freezing when he saw the shadow on her cheek.

A bruise.

His first thought was that she must have fallen. Then he remembered with clarity how Mr. Stevens had kept a tight grip on her arm the entire time they were at the wedding party. How, when she had stepped away from him to speak to the preacher's wife, Mr. Stevens had yanked her back to him so hard there had been several gasps.

Rage swept through him, followed by a new feeling. One he couldn't remember having in a long time. Not since his kid sister had slipped and tumbled into the creek and twisted her ankle. Even though it hadn't been his fault – he'd been on the other side of the creek – he had wanted to cry when she cried.

He felt that same sadness now. And the certainty that, if he could, he would take her pain upon himself. Just so she could keep smiling her pretty smiles.

"Adam."

He blinked. He hadn't noticed that she'd turned and seen him. "Ma'am," he said softly, stepping around the corner of the porch.

"Was that you I heard riding up a little while ago?"

"Yes ma'am."

She nodded. "I understand Miss Emmy is popular in these parts."

Ah hell. Was she jealous? The thought amused him, gave his pride a little boost. Then he frowned. "I suppose she is."

"Do you go there?"

"Ah…" He cleared his throat, suddenly uncomfortable. "Well… I… Uh…"

"I'm not a child, Adam, I know that men have…" She waved a hand faintly. "Needs."

"Yes." Because, really, what else could he say to that?

"I only ask because—" she cut off with a sigh. "It doesn't matter."

But it did. At least, to him, it did. "Why do you ask?"

"I was going to ask if you'd seen my husband while you were there." She drew in a deep breath and crossed her arms over her chest. "But I supposed even if you were there, you were looking at…other things…and not for anyone you knew."

"He wasn't there."

"Oh," she whispered.

"And I didn't… Hell, alright, I did go to look at other things. But I didn't—" The words lodged in his throat. How could he politely tell her he hadn't fucked any of Miss Emmy's ladies? And why the hell did he feel the need to? "I didn't go upstairs."

"I see."

Did she?

"And you didn't see my husband?"

"No ma'am." Unless he'd been upstairs, Adam hadn't noticed him. The men he had seen were men he knew. If Mr. Stevens had been there… "Huh."

"What?"

Why in the hell would the man be going to the best whorehouse in a hundred miles? He'd just married the prettiest lady to set foot in Cedar Grove in the past twenty years. "Why do you think he's there?"

"That's none of your business."

"No, but you brought it up."

She huffed with annoyance and for some reason, he thought she looked even prettier when she was annoyed. "Very well. He goes out almost every night and when he does come home he smells like…"

"Like?" Adam prompted.

"Like a whorehouse," she hissed.

He bit his lip to keep from smiling. Damned if she wasn't pretty when she was mad. He'd bet that when she got really fired up she was the most gorgeous creature on earth. He couldn't help but needle her a little bit. To see a bit more fieriness from her. "So what if he does? Most men around here go there for a little fun."

"Newly wedded men?"

"Shoot," he drawled, leaning against the railing on the steps. His lips twitched into a smirk when her eyes flashed. "Back in the spring I saw Jack Thompson coming out of there on his wedding night."

"That's disgusting."

"Men have needs, ma'am," he reminded her.

"Oh!" She spun, nightgown flowing, and he spotted bare feet as she stormed toward the door.

"Ma'am," he called, surging forward to catch up with her. "Whoa, whoa, hey—"

"Just because a woman's a virgin on her wedding night it gives her husband the right to consort with whores?" she spat when he caught her arm and turned her to him. "I could learn to do what they do, but I'm too stupid—"

"What the hell—"

"It's not my fault I don't know what to do," she continued, poking him hard in the chest with her finger. "They don't teach kissing a man down there at Miss Briley's School for Ladies—"

Adam caught her finger before she could jab him in his chest again. "Would you calm down?"

"Calm down?!"

"Shh!" he hissed, fearing her near-screech would have the house staff rushing to see what the matter was.

"Why should I calm down?" she asked in a low voice. "I can't please my husband. I try and I try and he…"

And he beat her when she couldn't, Adam realized. Easing his grip on her arm, he gulped when the moonlight caught the tears filling her eyes. "No, no, no, please," he whispered, heart twisting in his chest. "Please don't cry, ma'am."

"I should go back inside," she whispered.

"To cry into your pillow?"

"You're very rude."

"I'm a lot of things," he admitted. "Most of 'em not good."

She flinched when he raised his hand and he inwardly cursed. Hesitating, until she released a shuddering breath that he felt deep in his gut, he carefully brought his thumb to her cheek. Gently brushed away the tear that had escaped. Tracing the faint bruise, he felt an overwhelming urge to hunt her husband down and put a bullet in his brain. He pushed the thought away, though, when he felt her shiver and smelled lilacs.

"Ma'am?"

"I should go." It was a faint whisper, barely audible. But she made no move to pull away.

"I should too." But he didn't budge.

"This isn't proper."

"Then go," he murmured.

"If he came home right now—"

"Ma'am."

"My name is Ashley."

"Ashley." The name flowed easily over his tongue and he decided that he would never think of the name the same. "Ashley…"

"Adam?"

He sighed her name again, just to get the feel of it, because he knew he would be saying it in his dreams later. "Go to bed, Ashley."

She blinked up at him, lips parting invitingly.

"But promise me something."

"What?"

"Don't cry."

"I can't prom—"

"Ah, ah, ah," he interrupted, placing a finger to her lips. "You have to promise."

Her lips pushed against his finger. Maybe she did it by accident. Maybe she did it on purpose.

It didn't matter.

Adam slid his finger away and, the scent of lilacs the only thing he could smell, covered his lips with hers.

***

(tbc)

[countrymusiclover]

27 - All Riding Together

Part 28

Country Rancher

Tags @whateverthecostner @rosie-posie08 @kaycejdutton @kayceduttonn @kcloveswrestling @the-morning-star-falls @kaymudd @artoldfartsandunicornhearts @hcwthewestwaswcn

"Momma, are we really gonna ride with grandpa tomorrow?" Elsa asked jumping up and down like she had eaten a bunch of sugar.

Dallas was beside Ryan helping him load up his gear for tomorrow. It was where we would brand the cattle and sleep in just tents like real cowboys. That's what Lioyd told me once. Pulling my brown fur jacket closer around myself while tipping my brown hat up. "Yes sweatshirt. We will be going alongside your daddy. Now why don't you go play with your brother."

"I'm suprised you're letting them get on horses, baby." Footsteps approached from behind me with familiar arms wrapping around my waist from behind.

Leaning into his embrace I sighed in relief just enjoying the moment for a few seconds then turning around in his hold. "From where I stand you got on a horse young. Bree was riding horses at age ten if I remember correctly. I think it's time they start learning. I'll have Dallas ride with me and you can have Elsa." Draping my arms over his shoulders with a small smile.

"Sounds like a deal, Mrs. Dutton." He leans forward whispering in my ear making me blush. "Why don't you and I go spend our last night for a while in the bed."

Hitting his chest I tugged him back inside the main house knowing we needed to start packing our own gear. "We'll have time for that when we get back, Kayc. Let's go." Exiting the main house a few hours later I saw my father in law talking with his daughter and she had a very true point. That they didn't want to live beside him they simply wanted the land and for us to be gone.

"She's got a point you know. They want us all gone, John." I mumbled leaning against the stone wall watching his daughter leave heading towards a storage barn where Rip was getting supplies ready for Carter.

He sighed running a hand down his face staring at me longingly. "I just hope I can keep this for you and your children. I only have one son now and my daughter can't have her own children. So you're children will get all of this."

"I appreciate your work, John.." I trailed off twisting the fabric of my jacket knowing he was expecting me to give him some answer on me becoming livestock commissioner. I wasn't sure that Kayce should completely give it up. But I really wasn't sure if I would be good at the job. I was only used to be following what my husband thought was right for the cattle and horses because he was raised to do the job, not me.

The evening came sooner than I expected and I figured it would be an interesting dinner considering John had freed Summer and put her on house arrest here. Leaving her and Beth to most likely get into it sometime tonight. John was at the head of the table. Kayce and I took the chairs on the end. Carter was sitting next to Bree who had Rip on her other side and Beth beside him. Elsa was sitting on the other end facing her grandfather. Finally there was an empty chair on the opposite side of Dallas that Summer ended up taking being close to the governor like his daughter. Gator entered the room sitting down multiple trays of meat noticing Summer sitting at the table. "Oh I'm sorry ma'am. If I had known I would have made you something else."

"Give her what we feed the horses, Gator." Beth scoffed glaring across the table at the girl.

Biting my lip I forked some food on each of the twins plates so they were distracted with eating rather than watching what was about to happen. "Gator she'll be here for 6 months so could you make something that she can eat in the future?" John asked the cook.

"So uh what we have prepared here is an esuremain of game. There on the left vension-"

Summer interrupts him. "Which is to say a deer you shot that was just minding its own business."

"Yes that's right...beside that we'll have roast duck-" He started again but it didn't matter.

She asked a question intertwining her hands together. "Do you realize duck's mate for life?"

"If it helps I killed them both-"

She scoffed as I covered my mouth with my hands trying to not laugh at how ridiculous she was being. "It doesn't make it better. It makes its twice as bad. And what is this little creature that can't even feed one person?"

Kayce glanced at me then shifted his gaze to Bree and Carter who were just watching like the rest of us. "Actually I serve four per person.."

"So you kill four and what is this mystery?" Summer points towards the plate in front of her.

Gator slumped his shoulders and I felt bad for him that she wasn't being a very good guest. Because she could go back to prison if she liked. "Uh that's a dove."

"Dove, the bird of peace."

Beth sat down her napkin eyeing the girl. "Summer, let's you and I take a walk. Maybe I can educate you on our different ways of life."

"Our different cultures.." She snarled back letting her lead her out of the house.

Tate reached forward alongside my husband taking some of the duck from the plate. I forked some deer on mine about to take a bite until Elsa and Dallas both showed their empty plates. "Can we have seconds?"

"How about you let others get some first you two." Kayce chuckled through a bright grin.

Rip focused his attention back on his boss asking softly. "Sir, do you want me to go after them?"

"I think that's a terrible idea, Rip." John chuckled shaking his head getting some meat on his plate. I couldn't hold in my laughter anymore so I just start hitting my fist on the table hearing him tell Gator I'll have four.

Carter watched Bree raise her hand asking like she was in school. "Is there any cake tonight?" Everyone at the table just smiled and laughed at her innocent question.

"Yes granddaughter, Gator is making cupcakes tonight don't you worry." Her grandfather replied as Rip got up to go check on them outside. When he came back both girls were beaten pretty bad and you could see blood on their faces. Summer ended up just eating some mashed potatoes until John returned with a first aid kit.

After dinner I slowly sit down in the porch swing just looking up at the stars in peaceful silence until the front door gently closed. Turning my head that direction I smiled seeing my husband who sits down beside me. "Woah...I'm sorry about tonight. I didn't exactly want the twins to see that tonight."

"You've got nothing to apologize for, Kayce. You couldn't have known those two were gonna butt heads again." I smiled up to him running my fingers through his hair since he wasn't wearing his hat at the moment. He had put the twins to bed and told Tate and Bree to go to bed once they finished packing for tomorrow morning.

He sighed enjoying the feeling where he rests his head on my shoulder intertwining my freehand with his left. I crossed my fingers that tomorrow would just be about us and the family. Riding horses and doing what we loved and teaching that spirit into our four children. "If Carter and Bree try to share a tent I'm gonna punch him."

"He's a kid, Kayce." I scoffed not taking him seriously.

He lifted his head up not changing his facial expression meaning he was dead serious about this. "I ain't kidding darlin'. I'm not comfortable with the idea."

"Overall your just not comfortable with her growing up." I replied tucking hair out from in front of his eyes where he nodded softly yes.

We allowed the familiar silence to surround us again just watching for any shooting stars. He wrapped his arms around my waist tugging me to sit on his lap. Laying my head against his chest he put his chin on top of my head until I start giggling thinking back to our children all covered in chocolate from the cupcakes and how the twins were bouncing off the wall wanting to have more meat. "I can't believe our twins were eating like wild dogs. Tearing all that meat apart so easily."

"Yeah that was pretty fun. Summer would have probably thrown up at the sight. Don't you think Y/n?" Kayce chuckled with a huge smile and my heart swooned seeing him happy again.

Lifting my head up I softly kissed him. He leans into it resting one hand to cradle my cheek in his hand. "I agree with that, cowboy. I wonder who they got that instinct from hmm?"

"Don't act you wouldn't tear up my mother's biskets exactly like that." He teased me while twirling some loose strands of my hair in between his fingers.

Wrapping my arms around his neck I smirked when he leaned forward kissing me deeply. I moaned into the kiss twisting my fingers in his brown curls. But he broke the kiss before we got too heated and ended up making love tonight. "Let's get to bed darlin'. We've got a long ride on horse back tomorrow."

I am pretty sure it was four in the morning when we woke and everyone was there for breakfast including Summer. But nobody really talked and headed to saddle their horses. Tate and Bree were riding Lucky and Holly since they were old enough. Throwing my saddle over I tied it off quickly allowing me to pick up young Dallas and sit him in front of me on my horse once I climbed on. Moving my brown hat up Kayce was holding a sleeping Elsa against his chest riding his own horse. Glancing over my shoulder I saw Summer just standing off in the distance watching so I moved my horse to walk her way. "We could saddle you a horse if you've changed your mind."

"I already told John I don't want to ride a creature he forced into submission...but thanks for the offer Y/n." She grumbled giving me a weak smile crossing her arms over her chest.

Dallas yawned snuggling into my chest where I brushed hair from his face letting him sleep. "Summer, there's something you should know. I didn't know that I would enjoy working here, living here but I do. And do you know how I discovered that?"

"No." She shook her head staring up at me.

Tilting my head a little I wrapped one hand around the reins of my horse as he made a noise. Swinging his tail a little bit. "Because I tried something new to see if I would like it or not. You're parents may be vegans but it doesn't mean you are completely right. You have to try and see both sides of something. Just keep that in mind." Kicking my horse in the belly she walks over to Beth who I was joyed to see was coming with us even though she didn't like horses.

"I don't know what to do while he's gone...I don't know what to do when he's here." Summer bends her head down dropping her hands at her sides.

Beth glanced my direction where I nodded tipping my hat to her following to ride alongside Kayce. "Well I think you got that part figured out. Why don't you take a walk around this place. You'll understand us better. Tell me if there is a forest in America in better shape or more loved. Then tell me we're the enemy."

"You ready for this, Y/n." Kayce asked kicking his horse in belly starting the ride off.

Kicking my horse John lead the charge with Rip. Bree and Carter were riding in front of us so we were the last two on the riding trail. "I'm ready for anything so long as you and our family are with me Kayce." The wind blows through my hair as we focused our eyes on the land ahead of us.

Comments really appreciated ❤️