#well they can be partner over boyfriend any time but. cowboy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luvrsux · 9 months

Note

i absolutely LOVEEE your mafia Shanks babe not to mention i adore any and eerryyyy thing you do!!! Was wondering if you could write honestly anything for Shanks who is just absolutely obssesed with reader. Live action Shanks did a NUMBER in my well-being that man’s SOOO FINE (literally has me in a chokehold) Have a GREAT day loverrr 🤭😩🤍

thank you for the request \(◦´-`◦)/♡

“I Can Be a Better Boyfriend”

word count: 9k

summary: shanks is obsessed with you but unfortunately youre spoken for. what you don’t know is that your boyfriend isn’t very loyal and shakes wants you all to himself

cw: NSFW, obsessive behavior, mentions of weaponry, choking, oral (receiving and giving), fucking while on the phone

a/n: my longest fic⁉️

There was a slight tension in the room you sat innocently in, surrounded by chatter and laughter. You had a cold cup of an alcoholic beverage in hand while you sat close to your chatterbox boyfriend, where the tension lingered. You sensed the tension coming from him and who it was toward. You’d flicker your eyes between your close friend, Shanks, and your boyfriend, seeing how transparent the jealousy was—but it was a party, you thought. No need to cause a scene, right?

“Let’s play truth or dare!” The drunken cowboy said waving an empty bottle in the air before letting it roll in the center. His scruffy brother Luffy yelled in agreement.

Your eyes trailed towards the redhead who now had a smug grin directed straight toward the man that held you close beside you. You gulped.

Your boyfriend and Shanks never had the best relationship. The oddly overprotective guy would always tell you how he was bad news, and shower you with flirtatious comments like how you were too good for the likes of him. The way Shanks would go on and on about you was the very thing that made your partner want to rip him into shreds. You loved Shanks, though. He was there for you since day one and was always your ride or die. You didn’t want to throw him out for a guy, and your partner respected that.

In reality, Shanks was infatuated with you. Since the day he laid eyes upon you, he wanted you all to himself. He dreamed of wrapping you in his own arms any given chance he wanted, even in public. During the years you two shared a friendship, he remembered each and everything that made you smile, laugh, sad, or angry. Shanks knew you better than you even knew yourself. He was obsessed with you—and boy was he upset when he found out you were spoken for.

Shanks made it an ultimate goal to make you his sooner or later. It’s something he craved, itched for. He made it painfully obvious that he loved you far more than just a friend. Those flirtatious gestures were just the beginning. He’d sometimes stalk you on social media when you didn’t talk to him, and even go out of his way to “accidentally” bump into you when you were out. Nothing, absolutely nothing, could get in between you and him. Not even you’re good for nothing boyfriend that has been cheating on you for months right under your nose.

Shanks knew, from the beginning. You weren’t the only person he’d keep tabs on, necessarily. He found out your liar of a partner had been betraying your trust with random women for some time. Shanks could never tell you because the thought of him being the reason you were upset over someone who wasn’t worth it broke his heart, despite the fact he didn’t even do the unfaithful act. Believe it when Shanks found out, he was furious. Luckily for the man himself, he had a few tricks up his sleeves already…

Back to reality, you happily agreed to play truth or dare with the little gathering of Shanks’ friends and your own. You all sat on the carpeted floor while Shanks kept slouching on the love chair. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you.

“I’ll go first! Me, me!” Luffy pushed his brother aside and received an angry ‘Hey!’ in the process. He did his iconic giggle while he spun the bottle in the middle. It landed straight at Roux, who had a beaming smile.

Roux picked a dare that was asked by Luffy and it was simple enough. Luffy dared Roux to finish Beckmann’s plate of food and he ever so happily obliged. You giggled at Benn’s furious remarks now that his plate of food was nothing but thin air.

“Who’s next?” Shanks asks. Ace pushes Luffy aside, who is ready to steal a turn, and raises his hand. Ace leaned over to the glass bottle.

“I’ll spin” With that, the bottle spun in circles before landing directly at you. You went wide-eyed, not expecting to go so soon. You noticed Ace forming a devilish smile.

“Truth or dare?” He asked.

Maybe the alcohol was getting to you, or maybe it was the amount of adrenaline circuiting through your veins since you were the second pick but you immediately said dare. Ace chuckled under his breath quite deviously.

“I dare you to sit on… Shanks’ lap for the rest of the game” Ace clapped his hands together and laughed. Shanks looked at Ace with a pleased smile before resting his head on his knuckles to look dead straight at you.

Your jealous partner grabbed your hand in objection when he realized you were getting ready to oblige. He stared at you with sinister eyes, not wanting you to go near the redhead, who now was more than amused by your jealous boyfriend's reaction.

“Babe, don’t… You already know how I feel about him…” He ironically says. You smile and leave a peck on his cheek as comfort, to which he didn’t deserve.

“Trust me, it’s fine. Me and Shanks aren’t like that. I’ll chicken out of the dare after a few rounds, okay?” You whisper.

The group stared at you two, anticipating if you’d chicken out or not, which had a punishment. You weren’t too excited to receive a possible hardcore punishment from the reckless boys, so you decided to go with the dare. Your boyfriend just scoffed and let you be, not even caring about your words.

Shanks had eyes trailing along your body like he had just seen a goddess blind him as you walked yourself over to him. He had beaming eyes as well as a devious smile. He didn’t hesitate to sit up straight for you to use him as a newfound seat. Since he felt your body press against his crotch, he was ready to show everyone in this room, including your scumbag partner, who he truly loved. You felt your cheeks flare up once your back grazed against his partially exposed chest. Your body was stiff and you wondered why you became so flustered around the redhead. Shanks avoided touching you, for now.

A round or two went on and your partner looked aggravated. He barely participated in games and just chose truth for every round. Shanks enjoyed the angry view of your partner meanwhile you started to feel a bit bad. Shanks caught a glimpse of your empathetic attitude and quickly wanted to make a stop to it. ‘You shouldn’t waste a single breath out of your pretty face for him, (F/N)’

Your partner got chosen again and, lo and behold, he chose truth. He had daggers in his eyes towards Shanks and you, who sat on his lap so innocently with doe eyes. He saw Shanks whisper something in your sweet ear and you sprout up in giggles. As soon as you covered your face with your palms from your silly laughter, Shanks made absolutely sure he made eye contact with the boy across from you.

“Are you jealous of Shanks and (F/N) right now?” Someone asks your partner. Your laughter dies down upon hearing the question, your expression growing more serious. You watch your partner exhale deeply and form a fake smile.

“No, of course not! I trust my girl, she’s the best” He bullshitted. In reality, he wanted to rage at the redhead and yell at you for condoning the behavior. Shanks saw right through his fake facade and gave him a glare.

“Bullshit…”

He murmured. You heard a rumble from his chest and you turned your head around. The scent of your shampoo slithered into Shanks's nose and he formed a smile.

“Said something?” You ask innocently. He looked you up and down with a relaxed smile and half-lidded eyes.

“No, don’t worry, doll” He cooed. His tone of voice made your body shiver. You didn’t know how to process the new nickname he gave you, but chose not to say anything.

“Aww, how cute”

“Goals!”

“I’m surprised”

Unlike Shanks, everyone bought into your partner's fake lies. Shanks hated that no one knew who he actually was. Your fraud of a boyfriend gathered the praise to only fuel his fragile ego even more, and the redhead you sat comfortably on didn’t like it. Soon, you felt a tender arm wrap around your waist and a half-bare chest press against your back. You slightly inhaled sharply at the sudden feeling.

“Sorry ‘bout that. Needed to get comfortable, y’know?” Shanks chuckled right beside your ear. You could feel his breath slightly tickle your neck.

He displayed quite the show in front of your now-boiling partner. You could’ve sworn you saw a vein come out of his forehead. Steam might as well be coming out of his ears at this point. He cleared his throat and slammed his drink on the floor, causing a loud thump.

“Wow, it’s late. I have work in the morning, I’ll see you guys” He, yet again, created a fake mask to prevent any scene from happening. You heard in his tone was quite on edge and jolted. The firm arm around your body restricts you from easily getting up.

When you saw your partner approach the door with his coat, you finally broke free of Shanks to chase after him. The scene made Shanks want to hurt him, but he could only curse under his breath.

“Babe, babe…” You say, grabbing his hand. He whips at you with daggered eyes. You felt your heart sink a few feet into the Earth's core.

“Don’t ‘babe’ me… He was all over you” He hissed. You opened your mouth agape to rebuttal but were interrupted by him facing the illuminated screen of his phone rather than you. He seemed as if he had a message he needed to read.

“Who’s that?” You abruptly ask. He angrily tucked his phone away and finally faced you. His arms slithered through his jacket and slipped it on.

“Just a coworker. Look, I gotta go. I’ll text you tomorrow” He gave a quick peck on your cheek as well as a quick glare at the staring redhead, to which you had not noticed. You stared at the door in defeat.

“Love you…”

You said to yourself.

In actuality, lately, you’ve grown skeptical of your partner. You’d notice that he couldn’t go a second without his phone and have a heart attack if it went missing like it was his own kin. The moment he got defensive about you snatching his phone from him, you started to overthink and rethink your trust in him. Your trust and overthinking would fluctuate as days passed. One day, he’d be absent-minded and forget your plans no matter how much effort you’d put into it. Another day, he’d shower you with gifts and compliments. On days like those, it’d make you quite delusional and forget the rather questionable behavior he’d project. You also began to sense a bit more animosity from him towards you. He’d blame it on work, but he couldn’t seem to not stop pouring out his anger onto you. The only person who could comfort you on those heartbreaking days was none other than Red-Haired Shanks.

While you stared at the blank door in front while chatter, laughter and music played behind you, you sighed in complete defeat. Now that your mood completely plummeted by your fraud partner, you had no reason to keep the party going. You wished you hadn’t hosted the get together at your own home but here you were. You felt an arm wrap around your shoulders.

“Everything alright?” A voice spoke to you. You quickly averted your menacing stare from the door to a more oblivious gaze at the redhead.

“Oh, erm…” You stammer. You couldn’t help but shrug in defeat. “Guess I’m just tired… Can you tell-“

“Don’t worry your little pretty head”

Shanks winked and patted your head. Shanks immediately caught onto the situation as if he didn’t eavesdrop on the entire quarrel. You made eye contact with his back while he stood tall in front of the partying group.

“Alright guys, (F/N) needs rest. Party’s over”

You heard Shanks try to escort everyone out of the comfort of your house so you can decompress your stress from your failing relationship. Everyone groggily objected to leaving before being dragged out by their more sober friends. You watched Shanks push everyone out of the front door from the sidelines, admiring his charm and kind gesture. He immediately knew you needed space and quiet. The way he could sense everything about you made your heart skip a few beats.

・❥・

“That should be everyone” Shanks chuckled, clicking the door shut. You rubbed your arm nervously and hummed, gazing at your close friend. He approached you with loving eyes. You felt his finger tuck a lingering strand of hair behind your ear.

“You sure you’re alright?” He asked, rather close to your face. With one single push, you were bound to crash your lips against his own. You gulped.

“Yeah… Promise” You murmur. Shanks gazed at the features on your face as if he couldn’t get enough of it. He’s seen your face a million times and stared at your pictures on social media for ages but he still couldn’t get enough. He chuckled.

“I’ll stick around and clean up. You get rest, doll” He repeated the nickname once again. You still didn’t know how to feel about it and why he called you that, but for some odd reason, it made you gush.

“Are you sure?” You asked, watching him already get to work on tidying your messy living room. He hummed.

“Promise. Now go sleep”

You gave him one tight squeeze of his chest. You could faintly hear his heartbeat for a moment before you pulled away. Shanks resisted every urge to keep you there.

“Thank you, Shanks. You’re the best” You beamed.

Those words made Shanks fall in love with you all over again. He saw you skip away to the hallway that led to your very own room. Shanks let out a small chuckle before continuing to pick up the lingering cups and cigarette buds.

Shanks made sure you went to bed alright before he could leave. He escorted you to your room and saw you tuck yourself in bed. He felt like slithering his body next to yours, but that’d have to wait a little bit longer. As soon as you saw him make his merry way to your door, you sat up.

“Wait… Do you maybe wanna… Sleepover? The couch is right there” You offered with a sweet smile. Shanks was more than on board to take the offer, but there was something he had to do.

“I’d love to, doll. But I have to do something at home” Shanks painfully declined. The sight of your small frown made his chest tighten.

“Alright…” You say softly. Shanks gave you a comforting smile in hopes of making that frown turn into that smile he loved dearly.

“I’ll come in the morning to check on you, don’t worry. I’ll bring some breakfast on the way” Shanks smiled. Your disappointed demeanor shifted like whiplash by Shanks’ mere words.

“Really? Oh, thank you!” You beamed. Shanks was happy that you were now pleased. He hummed and gave you one last sweet smile.

“Anything for you” He murmured before leaving the room.

He exhaled out of pure euphoria by simply talking to you and seeing you as sweet as ever. For a moment, he forgot why he even had to leave in the first place. Before he could consider slumping on the couch, the buzzing of his phone snapped him back to reality.

Yassop - 11:56 PM

target is at the scene just as planned, cap

His memory traced back to him as soon as his eyes trailed along the message sent by his trusty partner-in-crime. Shanks carved a menacing smile and strutted his body to leave the comfort of your home.

Shanks - 11:58 PM

on the way

・❥・

Shanks sat in his car as casually as ever. Completely brushing off the fact he was about to do something completely against the law. The orange street lights slightly illuminated against the dewed window beside him and he stared up at the building before him. He kept his eyes locked on a specific window which showed a silhouette of his newfound target. Shanks could feel himself getting antsy as he’d been meaning to do this for a while, and the time as finally come. With glossed photo captures in his raven trench coat and a steel, sharp dagger tucked away on the other side, he exited his car when the moment was right.

The redhead had his head ducked down until he stepped inside the apartment complex. The stairwell is rugged but fortunately empty. At this hour, people were sound asleep in their own peaceful dreams. Shanks, having done this a couple times before, knew exactly which door was the gateway to his target's demise. As soon as he landed his sinister eyes on the locked door, he never felt so much adrenaline in his system when he gave it a single knock.

“Yeah, yeah babe I know- Hello?”

There he was. Your partner, on the phone with someone who most definitely wasn’t you, swung the door open to a smiling Shanks. He pulled his device away from his ear to eye the tall, blood-haired man up and down.

“What the fuck are you- Mmmph!”

Shanks made himself feel welcome and shoved a hand against his mouth. His hand gripped his jaw so tightly, that he thought he could’ve shattered it right there and then. Your boyfriend stared up at Shanks with widened eyes that had his whole life flashing before him. The unfamiliar feminine voice on the other line could be faintly heard, frequently saying “Hello?” “Are you there?” “What’s going on?”. To avoid suspicion and the police locking Shanks in handcuffs, he had to put an end to that conversation.

“Hang up the phone”

His voice rumbled against his trembling ear. He could’ve killed someone with a single sinister tone with the way he spoke into your partner's ear. He nodded frantically, already obeying Shanks like a dog and he hadn’t even pulled out his dagger yet. He let go of his bound-to-be bruised jaw and let him speak.

“I’ll- Call you back” He stammered. Shanks could faintly hear the voice continue to bombard him with questions but to no avail. He had already cut the line before explaining. Seeing as how he had a tight grip around his jaw, he wondered what else Shanks was capable of if he didn’t oblige.

“What do you want…?” He gulped. Shanks chuckled. He just looked and paced around the comfort of your boyfriend’s home as if it were his own. He trailed his eyes on an opened can of beer and an opened pizza box.

“Takeout? You must’ve known I was coming, I’m starving” Shanks ignores his shaken question. He picked up a slice, which was rather cold to his liking but it sufficed. He nonchalantly took a happy bite and washed it down with the freshly cracked open beverage.

“You have pretty good taste, I’ll give you that much,” Shanks said with a mouthful. Your boyfriend watched the scene with horrified eyes. He was completely distraught and it might as well give him whiplash with the way he behaved. Just a moment ago he had a hand around his face that was ready to snap it, and now he’s acting like a house guest.

“What the hell do you want, Shanks?” He says more confidently. Shanks notices his bolder tone rather than his more scared one like before. He gives him a bit of a menacing side eye before rummaging in his pocket.

Suddenly, 4k resolution glossed images spread on the table Shanks was feasting on. Each image presented a quality image of your liar of a boyfriend going behind your back with several different women. Some contained regular romantic dates while others were more explicit. Each one captured a clear view of his face to make sure it was undoubtedly your unfaithful partner. Upon glancing at each and every one of them, he felt his heart drop miles into the pits of the Earth. He thought he was being discreet and slick about his actions, but the truth always unveils itself, doesn’t it? Especially by someone as obsessive as Shanks.

“How did you-…” He began. He furrowed his eyebrows to a Shanks that continued eating at his pizza slice innocently. He clenched his fists into balls.

“Don’t you dare go and tell (F/N) about this-!” He begins but is cut off by a devious chuckle. His face dropped upon hearing it from the redhead. He watched him drop the half-eaten piece of food on the floor carelessly and rummage around in his pocket. Before your partner knew it, another hand clenched his jaw. What made this time entirely different and a lot more petrifying was now he felt a cold, steel item lightly pierce into the flesh of his neck. He watched the blade with bloodshot, scared eyes while Shanks did as well with a smile.

“I won’t tell that pretty girl, I don’t want to break her precious heart” He cooed. Shanks leans into his ear to yet again use that sinister voice to his advantage.

“You’re going to tell her about each and every time you were an unfaithful dick to her before sunset tomorrow” Shanks could hear his frantic, horrified, shaken breaths. “And, trust me, I’ll know. You’d consider this interaction a lot nicer than the one I’ll give you if you don’t do as I say. That a deal?” He asks. No response due to the sheer shell shock Shanks provided.

“I said is that a fucking deal?”

Shanks's devious smile dropped to a stone-cold, serious look. After repeating himself once, your “boyfriend” was afraid of what would happen if it happened a second time. He frantically nodded as his life depended on it. Shanks could feel a wet, warm sensation on his hand. He pulled his head away from his ear to reveal the once bold guy grew tears on his face.

“What a pussy…” He pushed him aside for him to collapse on the floor. Shanks wiped his dewed off to dry. He exhaled, his job finally done for the night and now completely satisfied. Although, he was a little disappointed that he couldn’t draw blood.

“Thanks for the meal, greatly appreciate it. See ya!” He says rather cheerfully before exiting the room.

Shanks never had such a big beaming, evil grin on his face before.

・❥・

You sat on your cushioned couch, minding your business. You had your eyes locked on the screen mindlessly, not a single thought behind those eyes. That is, besides the thought of your “partner”. He hadn’t messaged you at all since the gathering. You’ve been sending him several messages but they all met the same fate; left on delivered.

The only thing that made your day better was that Shanks kept his word. He was invited into your home with open arms with fresh breakfast in hand. You remember sharing the meal together. One thing, in particular, was the moment Shanks had a finger wipe off the lingering sauce on the side of your mouth only to lick it off of his own finger. Something about the interaction made your stomach flip. After Shanks's unfortunate departure, you were left alone worrying about your relationship. You didn’t want to bother the redhead about it considering he’s heard it a million times, but he’d hear it a million times more in a heartbeat.

You were just about to finally call him to ask him what he was doing. Those skeptical feelings came flooding back as usual. The thought of there being someone made your stomach turn, but it’s been such a recurring thought for a while that the feeling of heartbreak became more bearable. Your thumb hovered the call button until it was quickly pulled away by your own body from the sound of your door knocking. You presumed it would be Shanks since he liked to surprise you often.

You trotted your feet towards the door that, for some reason, grew more frantic knocks—like the person needed to get ahold of you. You sighed and adjusted your clothing to seem more presentable and less lazy-like.

“I’m coming, I’m coming” You annoyingly say before twisting the metal knob to the side. You swung the door open, hearing the mass impact of the raining water meeting the ground. You stare up at your drenched boyfriend with sad eyes.

“Babe…? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” You frantically ask, your once annoyed demeanor completely vanishing. Without a word, he pushed passed you like you didn’t say a single thing. He created small footprint puddles on your hardwood floors as he walked. You quickly shut the door.

“I-… I need to talk to you, (F/N)” He used your actual name, which he started resulting in a lot more than before. He spoke in a horse tone as if he’d been running a marathon. You quickly trailed him to the couch to get him comfortable.

“What’s up? C’mon, talk to me” You placed a hand on his forehead to check his temperature, knowing the probable chance of him getting sick from the pouring rain.

“Listen,” He began. His eyes were filled with absolutely nothing but guilt. He wrapped his soaked hands around your warm and dry ones. “You have to get rid of Shanks” He blurted.

You blinked, staring at him completely dumbfounded. You two have slightly argued about Shanks but you’ve done everything in your ability to prove to your insecure partner that you were loyal and not into Shanks, so you thought. You nervously tucked your hair behind your ear.

“What? Why, what are you talking about-?”

“He- He- He came to my fucking house” He cut off and started speaking frantically. You watched in disbelief. “He showed me pictures and told me to tell you-“ He realized he’d been speaking too much, not intending on doing what Shanks told him to initially do. He thought Shanks’ little threats were a bluff, but the weird feeling of him being watched said otherwise.

“…Tell me what?” You ask. You noticed that he realized he spoke too much, and you internally began piecing everything together. He felt your hands slip from his grasp.

“That-… Doesn’t matter. The point is that he’s fucking crazy-“

“What were pictures, (NAME)? What do you need to tell me?” You asked more sternly, hoping and praying you weren’t about to be right about your speculations.

“C’mon, babe… He tried to threaten me” He formed a smile to woo you onto him but to no avail. You just raised an eyebrow. He scoffed.

“They were pictures… Of me” He tried to end it there but you weren’t satisfied. Shanks wouldn’t go that far for simple selfies.

“Of me and some… women” He finally admitted, attempting to say the last word in a lower tone in hopes you didn’t hear—but you did. You abruptly got up from your seat. As soon as he saw you were about to shout, he quickly tried to cover it up.

“But babe I love you, I promise! Those-… Those were just-“

“Shut the hell up!”

You held all that pent-up anger and finally released it with that one scream. He jolted and kept his mouth completely sealed. You began to swell with tears but blinked them away to refuse to show any sense of vulnerability.

“You come to my house after ignoring me all day to shit talk my best friend when you’ve been cheating on me?” You stepped forward to him only for him to laugh nervously and step back.

“I’ve actually known for a while but refused to believe it! And there’s photo evidence?” You didn’t stop yourself from getting up in his face with a seething glare.

“You’re a gaslighting piece of shit! I never want to see your face again”

With those words coming out of your mouth, he glared right back at you. He huffed, running his fingers through his locks to finally speak.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you were cheating on me with that redhead, anyway” He turned his body to snatch his jacket. Unsatisfied with the fact he couldn't manipulate you into believing him, he decided to just flee.

“I sure as hell should’ve so you can understand how the hell it feels, asshole” You chased him to the door so you can continue embarrassing him now that his little plan of him manipulating you didn’t work.

“Have fun sucking Shanks’ dick, (F/N)” He cursed at the doorway. His remark made you grin sinisterly.

“Oh, I will and maybe I’ll send pictures to your mailbox to prove it”

You slammed the door with all the remaining might you have left thanks to adrenaline. You breathed heavily while your body was shaken from shock. You let out one last frustrated groan before stomping to your couch. After a few seconds, you finally snapped back to the harsh reality of the fact your trust got betrayed. You finally let out those tears you held captive while you were shouting. You palmed your eyes and sniffled for minutes on end, not knowing what to do for the future. You finally grab your phone to call the only person who could make you feel better.

“Hello? Everything okay, doll?”

“He-… He cheated on me…”

Shanks had been lingering in his car, not far from your location. Your sobbing words made Shanks grin menacingly. He internally celebrated that his plan worked out thoroughly. Once he realized you were sobbing over the phone, he hit the pedal on his car to speed his way to your home.

“That’s awful… He’s such an idiot” Shanks tried to hide his excitement from the sole fact you were not available. But, of course, your vulnerable state was far more important.

“Come over, please…” You beg, murmuring over the phone. Shanks hummed, feeling his heart slightly tear at your low and saddened voice.

“Of course, sweetheart”

His soothing, sweet, charming voice made your tears suddenly halt. You hum and hang up the phone to wait for your new knight in shining armor to make all your sorrows disappear.

・❥・

“Oh, doll, you look horrible,” Shanks said with a sympathetic frown. He cupped your face, wiping down your drenched cheeks until they were dry. You let it happen and stared into his caring eyes that trailed along your features.

He pulled you into the same couch you rotted in previously. He sat you down and quickly poured you a glass of water, fully knowing you hadn’t kept yourself hydrated.

“What happened? Did he tell you personally?” Shanks innocently asked as if he wasn’t the sole reason this whole ordeal occurred in the first place.

“He came and began accusing you… He told me you showed him pictures of him with some women?” You turned to him, who had stopped his sudden movements. He decided to play along, not expecting the guy to snitch on him.

“That son of a bitch- Yeah… I did. I told him to tell you a few days ago” Shanks said, approaching you with a cold glass of fresh water. You watched with doe, red eyes.

“I didn’t want to tell you because you mean a lot to me. You deserve to hear it from him” Shanks smiled, handing you the glass. You believed every word and wrapped your hands around the glass, brushing your fingers against his own which sent slight shockwaves.

“I’m surprised you believed him. Sometimes people in your shoes believe his shitty lies” Shanks wrapped an arm around your shoulder to physically comfort you.

“I was suspicious for a while, I was just… Too delusional to do anything” You say lowly, entirely out of embarrassment. You felt a finger pull your chin up his face.

“You did the right thing, sweetheart. He was a terrible partner” Shanks formed a small smile to help one carve from your lips. It was contagious and you couldn’t help it.

“Yeah, I suppose so…” You say. You stare into his eyes and slightly blush from the sudden position you are in. If anyone were to catch a glimpse of your current state, they’d assume you and Shanks were a couple.

“Why do you call me those things, Shanks?” You abruptly ask. Shanks hummed and tilted his head, ever so slightly inching it forward.

“You want my honest answer?” He says with a grin. You paused for a moment before you could muster up a response. All you could do was nod submissively.

“I love you, (F/N)” He says proudly. Those words shot through your heart and everything made perfect sense. Your now ex-boyfriend’s suspensions were correct, to which you’d always deny.

“I have been since I laid eyes on you. You’re absolutely perfect, and I can’t get enough of you” You felt his fingers brush through your hair and slither from your chin down to your palm.

“I should’ve told you sooner if it meant you wouldn’t be crying over that scumbag” He planted a chaste kiss on your hand. He looked up at you with lovesick pupils and you didn’t know what came over you.

You didn’t know if it was your vulnerable emotions or the fact Shanks was being hot as hell but you slammed your lips against his as soon as he lifted them off of your hand. Shanks didn’t object, rather more shocked than anything. He placed an arm around the hook of your back when you began towering over his body. You let out a small noise once Shanks slipped his tongue into your mouth and he already began breaking through his pants.

You hungrily ran your palms on his half-exposed chest only to fuel your lust more. You felt his toned chest at your fingertips but you didn’t separate your lips. You felt Shanks’ eager hands grope the fats of your ass tenderly, only to birth a moan from your voice. With a single grind against his crotch, Shanks immediately pulled away.

“Wait, wait… Doll, do you want to do this?” He breathes. You eye his face up and down, now expecting the sudden change of direction. You bit your lip and collected your emotions. Your sex was already ready for him to tear you apart, but the way he’s been so caring and tender to you proved everything Shanks said to be true. If you were going to have sex, Shanks would be the perfect partner.

“Yes, I do…” “Are you sure?”

You nodded confidently, greatly appreciating his gesture to make sure you were comfortable and on board. With that single nod, Shanks wrapped his hand around your neck to pin you down. You hitched, not expecting his sudden course of action. It’s like as soon as you agreed, you unlocked a whole new person.

Shanks removed his hand and curiously traveled his hungry hands along your body. He groaned, leaning against your ear. You felt his strands of hair tickle the crook of your neck.

“I promise I’ll fuck you better than he ever has”

His words sent a wave of lust down your body. You couldn’t help but let a whimper escape. Shanks immediately tugged off your comfortable pants to leave you in your own lace. You inhaled.

He pressed two digits against your slit to feel the dampness from it. He bit his lower lip, immediately turned on even more by the fact you were already soaked from his touch.

“Such a good girl, already wet for me” He cooed. You felt his teeth clamp on your thin lace to slowly pull them off. He stared into your eyes each second until they were off.

Shanks gently spread your legs further apart to get a beautiful view of your cunt. He swore he was caught in a trance now that he was finally able to cherish this moment with you. He gave you one last glance before lowering his lips.

He trailed his wet tongue along your slit slowly, getting a small wave of moans from your mouth. He was only testing the waters, seeing how you taste and how much he loved each drop. Pressed his mouth against your slit and let out a hungry groan which sent vibrating sensations through your core.

He made sure to focus his mouth on your clit to give you waves of pleasure. It wasn’t long before you filled the entire living room with your, what he would call ‘pathetic’, moans, completely overshadowing the chatter of your TV.

Shanks pulled away from your throbbing clit to slip in two digits. He curved his fingers just the right way to hit your sweet spot with ease. The way you bucked your hips into his fingers was a sign he was making you feel euphoric.

“Like that? You like that?” He asked with a smile despite him already knowing the answer. You frantically nod.

“Yes~! Oh mmmph yes~!”

Your vocalization made Shanks groan and immediately show love to your begging clit. The rapidly rammed his fingers inside of you while he sucked and swirled his tongue around your bud. You never felt so much stimulation before. You immediately clamped your hand to tug Shanks’ bright locks, shoving his face into your cunt. You could feel his stumble rub just a bit against you.

“Mmm…”

Shanks rumbled once you shoved him further. He went at a rapid pace, forcing a faster pace inside of you. You felt that knot begin to snap and breathe heavily. Shanks’ remaining hand clenched your thigh out of anticipation.

“Shanks! I’m gonna- I’m gonna cum~!” You cry out. Shanks formed a slight smile while he devoured you whole.

“Mhm, mhm…” Shanks encouraged your climax. With a tight wrap of your thighs around your head and an arch of your back, you spurted on Shanks’ mouth with your entire might.

You heaved your chest once you rode your high on Shanks’ now drenched face. You unclamped your hand and thighs to set him free. He exhaled with a pleased smile and wiped his mouth dry. He gave your count a small slap.

“Such a good little girl, hm?” He hummed. You giggled and pulled him into another hot make-out session, tasting a bit of yourself on his lips. After a few moments, you pulled away.

“Your turn” You sang. Shanks paused for a moment, baffled you still had the endurance to keep going. He happily agreed and pulled his body off of yours.

You plopped your half-dressed body on the floor on your knees. Shanks man spread his legs before you with a smile and half-lidded eyes. You used your hands to lift your body on his crotch, pressing your breasts on his groin for him to feel. He bit his lip.

You unbuckled his belt that locked his rock-hard member in his pants. Once it was opened, you eagerly unzipped his pants. You felt Shanks lift his waist up to pull down his pants and boxers. The length of his member springing straight into your face caught you by surprise. You wondered if you’d be able to even get halfway down the shaft. Shanks exhaled, feeling relieved now that his hard member was set free from restriction.

“You sure you can handle it?” He asked, that same smug smile on his face. You gulped, wondering if you’d be able to. You eyed it up and down, replying with a nod.

“Then be a good girl for me and suck me dry”

You looked up at him with submissive eyes that he loved so much. The sight of it could make him cum in an instant. You kissed the tip of it, tasting the sleek pre cum. You wrapped your lips around the first part to slowly lower your head. You heard Shanks hiss.

“Mhmm~..” He hummed.

You were barely halfway there before you believed your mouth couldn’t take more. You moved slowly, drenching the first top of his member. Shanks bucked his hips ever so slightly into your mouth which would cause a gag to form.

“Lemme help you, princess” He smiled. You felt a hand grab each strand of hair into his own makeshift ponytail to lower you down. You whimpered, starting to feel it go past your actual mouth. Shanks finally lowered you down to the base and you were already tearing up.

“Theeeere you go. Take it alllll in your- mmm~ Mouth” Shanks groaned. You bobbed your head up and down to suck all of him off. You couldn’t stop gagging and choking despite your slow pace.

Shanks would huff at the warm and wet feeling of your mouth. He’d cock his head back a few times before he needed something more. He clenched your hair tighter to control your pace for you. He moved your head faster and faster until you had no more control over your own movement.

“Fuck, your mouth is so perfect f’me” You heard him growl. He had his mouth agape to let his pleasurable sounds escape his mouth. You looked up at him with dumb eyes that were swelled with tears. Shanks growled at the sight, wanting to paint your mouth white.

He loved the sound of slurping, gagging, and whimpers you let out on his member. He couldn’t get enough of it. His moans began to get more reckless the more he crept up to his climax.

“Good girl~ S-Such a good fucking girl” He seethed through his teeth while he skull fucked you with no remorse. Despite your waterfall eyes, you enjoyed Shanks demolishing your throat. Once you felt his cock twitch in your mouth, you pulled your mouth right off his shaft, making a popping sound. Thanks to your slippery mouth and saliva, the member was lubed enough to stroke it just as fast as your mouth was. You heard Shanks grunt and jolt his hips to thrust into your palm.

“Fuck~!”

He spurted his seed all over your face. You stuck out your tongue with a smile to catch some of it into your mouth to taste. You loved it. Shanks coated your face with all of his love juice which seemed to go on forever. He loved the sight of your dirtied-up face.

You swallowed the excess cum that entered your mouth and Shanks smiled in delight. He sat up straight to tilt his body closer to you.

“Cmere”

He grabs you, gently, by the neck to lead you back on the couch on your back. Much like before, Shanks planted his lips on your own as an intermission. He was far from exhausted and so were you. You never experienced this much pleasure and euphoria from sexual activities with your ex-partner. Shanks showed you a whole new world of pleasure.

He parted his lips from yours and huffed. He ripped off his shirt that sluggishly covered his body to expose his toned body. You admired it like it was a museum exhibit. Shanks ran his fingers through his locks before leaning into your ear.

“I’m gonna need a condom because I’m about to fuck the shit out of you, princess” He grinned, biting the lobe of your ear. You giggled in pleasure and kissed the side of his cheek.

“In the second drawer on my nightstand, baby” You cooed. Shanks chuckled and ripped his body off yours after leaving a kiss on your forehead.

He tucked his member back into his loose pants temporarily to grab the contraceptive. You sat up and huffed, a dope smile on your face from the sheer amount of pleasure Shanks brought you. You remembered to finish cleaning your sin filled face until suddenly, your phone began buzzing rhythmically on the coffee table beside you. Considering Shanks was busy at the moment, you thought it wouldn’t hurt to answer.

You saw the caller ID and frowned. Of course, he was calling you to beg for forgiveness. For some odd reason, something told you to answer only to tell him off more.

“What do you want?” You say coldly.

“Babe, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything” He pleaded. By the congestion of his voice and how shaken it was, it seemed like he had been crying for quite some time. The thought made you grin when you realized you’ve been getting pleased by Shanks while he’s been pathetically crying.

“Uhuh, right… And I’m guessing you didn’t mean to cheat on me either?” You say, laying on your stomach while the phone is on your ear. You heard footsteps.

“No! I swear I was stupid and I regret every second, Trust me (F/N)! I…” He went on and on about excuses but you listened blankly when you felt hands grab your hips, forcing you into an arched back position.

You whipped your head back to Shanks to rip open the bag with his teeth. He effortlessly slipped on the condom along his shaft and rubbed it against your entrance. While your ex cried over the other line, Shanks leaned against your ear.

“Don’t hang up that damn phone yet, sweetheart. I want him to hear me fuck you a little and cry even more…” He sadistically spoke into your ear. You replied with a grin and turned your head around straight ahead.

“Why are even you calling me?” You cut off.

You felt Shanks slip in his length inside of your entrance. You bit your lip to hold back a moan while Shanks just lowly groaned when he felt your walls wrap around his member like he longed for. It felt better than Shanks expected.

“Because I want you back, (F/N)! You- you mean so much to me and I swear I didn’t mean it”

Shanks had a hand on your lower back when he began thrusting. The sounds of skin making contact couldn’t travel to the other line of the phone, yet. Shanks moved at a decent pace and it became harder to hold back a moan the more time passed.

“Y-Yeah… You do- haah..~” You say, barely paying attention to his cries over the phone. He could hear your heavy breathing and stopped his frantic attempts to get you back.

“Are you-… Alright? Why are you breathing so hard?”

Shanks heard his question and it was his queue to recklessly slam into you at a rapid pace. Now, the sinful sounds from both bodies made their way to the phone. Your ex could now hear it clearly.

“Ah~! G-Gotta go, cya!” You frantically say. You pull your phone away from your ear to hang up. You could faintly hear him shout and scream once he caught on the fact you were getting the brains fucked out of you. You threw your phone aside once the line was cut and filled the room with the moans you held back.

“Ah~! Fuck, Shanks~! Mmmmph~!” “You feel fucking amazing, baby~.. Fuck~”

Shanks would throw a mixture of praise and degradation which you loved more than anything. Shanks threw his head back and grabbed your love handles to pound into your body like his life depended on it.

“Augh~! Fuck, princess~!”

You repeatedly and messily moaned left and right, your brain going completely blank. The way Shanks mercilessly pounded into your core made your brain go white and all you could do was mewl and scream from Shanks cock. You felt a sudden rise of pleasure burn up, on your way to your second orgasm. Shanks felt your thighs shake.

“Gonna cum? Gonna cum f’me?” He let out a heavy pant and grunt. He didn’t stop his pace, he didn’t slow down a second. You nodded submissively.

“Yes, yes, yes~! Mmmh~!” You let out a sweet little cry and left your mouth agape to let out shaken, rocky moans.

As soon as you felt your juices begin to spurt out of you, you moaned rapidly. Shanks chuckled from the pure excitement from your second climax. He felt beads of sweat from on his forehead and his breathing grew hoarse.

“Shanks~! Oh, fuck Shanks~!” You shrieked once you released your juices on his still rapid-pacing cock. He enjoyed the view, not taking his eyes off of it for a second when you let your high rise out of you. The way he didn’t slow down even then made your brain flatline. Your moans got raspy and hoarse from the never-ending thrusts.

“Just a bit- mmmh~! Longer, baby. I’m about to cum” He caressed your skin to comfort you just a bit after your intense orgasm. You hummed in agreement at Shanks’ words. “You’re so fucking beautiful, you slut”

With a few more pounds, you felt his member twitch inside of you. Shanks impulsively yanked on your now tangled hair to yank your head upward. He wanted to hear you shout with that last slam before he’d release every warm drop of semen “inside” of you.

“Fuck~!!” With that last shout, he filled the condom damn there to the brim. He wished he could cover your walls with his sticky seed until it poured out of you, but this would suffice for now. He slowly kept going for a few more strokes. “God, I fucking love you, (F/N)”

You felt Shanks let go of your hair which left you to collapse on the couch when he pulled out. Shanks huffed as he pulled the used condom off his shaft to throw it away. While he did his thing, there you laid on the couch with your legs shaking and feeling like you ran a marathon. You began to regain consciousness after getting your brains fucked into the next week. You felt Shanks pick you up into his chest and walk you to your dark bedroom.

The sun already set and it was the nightly hour. Shanks laid you down on your bed and pulled the sheets over your worn-out body. He removed the remaining strands of hair stuck on your face with a finger as well as a satisfied smile. Sure, he was a menace while fucking you but he didn’t lie about loving you. Even if you were half asleep, you deserved aftercare, he thought.

“Cuddle me…” You murmur.

You heard Shanks chuckle before walking to the other side of the bed to slip his body close to yours like he imagined yesterday. You immediately latched your body onto his, feeling his arms around your own. All your sorrow and sadness vanished just by being in trustworthy arms.

“Do you really… love me?” You groggily ask. Shanks hummed, looking up from the ceiling to you. All he could do was smile.

“More than anything. You’re perfect for me, (F/N)” He caressed the back of your head to reassure you.

Knowing Shanks for quite some time, you knew he wasn’t lying. You just found it baffling how he showed you his undying love for you right after you found out the truth about your previous relationship. You giggled.

“So you wanted me to break up with him, huh?” You call out.

“Guilty as charged”

You heard him chuckle. You then remembered the phone call you had while Shanks was fucking your guts out. You let out yet another amused giggle.

“Do you think he actually heard us?” You ask. Shanks let out a hearty chuckle at your question, remembering about the whole ordeal. It seemed like his orgasm made him forget about everything that wasn’t your moans.

“Oh, definitely. Must suck for him” He said sadistically, but it only caused you to continue giggling. Now, you have zero remorse for him compared to just yesterday.

“How about I take you on an actual date sometime?” Shanks offered.

The thought of having a more romantic moment with the man you trusted sounded just as good as the way he fucked you. He smiled on his chest and shut your eyes closed to end the night at this perfect moment.

“I’d love that, Shanks”

all licensing and ownership belong to Eiichiro Oda

#fanfic #one piece #op x reader #x reader #shanks x reader #red haired shanks #shanks #shanks smut #red haired pirates

294 notes · View notes

writerofthewinds · 1 year

Note

can you make a will solace nsfw alphabet?? 😘😫

Will Solace NSFW Alphabet

A will solace NFSW Alphabet will headcanons i like and some of my own.

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex) Has everything ready from water to snacks and blankets can heal you if he went to far expert in massages from his anatomical knowledge

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partners) Is very proud of his abs and pecks because he doesn't really get time to work out due to working in the infirmary and has surprisingly muscular thighs.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically…) Prefers coming in you feeling your ass and throat clenching and milking him

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) Is much more submissive than people think although he can be a good dom after dimming for too much he prefers being the sub.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?) Pretty experienced, Will is familiar with his kinks and dislikes and can walk his partner through it if they are inexperienced and help them discover what they like.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying) You riding him or him riding you. Do you know what they say? Wear the hat and ride the cowboy.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc) Not necessarily goofy, but if he's teasing or being teased, will let out a few breathy laughs and snorts

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.) He shaves most of the time but sometimes not when he has a lot of work to do, so he forgets, and it can be bushy.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) He's undistractable, he's entirely focused on his partner's pleasure, and can be very romantic if he's in the mood.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon) Doesn't have much time to jack off, instead not do it anyway so he can release inside his partner if he really needs to and won't see his partner for hours or when he's on a quest without his boyfriend he'll make it quick.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks) He enjoys handcuffs, like cuffing his boyfriend while he fucks him, and hearing the sound of the cuffs moving because his bf is moving is ecstatic to him.

He enjoys dominating his partner and railing tf outta him.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do) He doesn't have any favorite place, honestly; any place where he knows he won't get disturbed is good for him a slight preference for the bedroom cuz it's comfy.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going) Getting called pet names by his partner, like 'pretty boy,' teasing 'yes sir will wake his dominant side and make you (s)cream

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs) Definitely not public sex, Will is pretty private about this stuff and like the privacy and comfort of his home and not dirty things like blood knives and piss.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) Prefers giving, is super good at oral, knows he's skilled, and will hang this over his partner to get them to beg if he wants them to (anatomical knowledge coming in handy, lol)

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.) Will varies depending on the mood of the moment; if it's more of a romantic mood, he'll be slow and deep and sensual, but he will hit it hard and fast when needed resulting in you walking with a limp.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.) A massive fan of quickies. As the camp medic, he doesn't have much time and practically spends all day in the infirmary. Doesn't want to be disturbed when working, but if his partner has been teasing him or looking particularly delicious before they need to go somewhere, he is prepared to rail the attitude out of them before they leave; this, of course, only turns them on more.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.) Of course, he loves to experiment and take risks trying new things, but does have some strict boundaries with things he won't do and will respect his partner's boundaries as well

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…) Can go for a couple of rounds, but likes to spend a lot of time on his partner. After that he's tired. Maybe another one if he has the energy but two is usual.

T = Toy (Do they own toys or use them? On a partner or themselves?) Has a couple toys himself but is absolutely supportive of his partner using toys if they want to.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease). This little teasing motherfucker, if in the mood, will take his time edging you and stimulating you but can't take as much as he can provide, Will crumbles under his partner's teasing pretty quick and dares to complain after you do this to him despite him doing this to you and being deaf to your begging

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make) not extremely loud, just some groans, little mons, and lots of oh fuck

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice) After a good time where he fucked you real hard, he was too tired he fell asleep with his cock up your ass, but when you tried to get out, he hugged you from behind which resulted in you sleeping with him inside you.

Or when you hit a particular spot, instead of moaning he speaks in a thick southern accent.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s happening in those pants). I know it's big. It's around 8 inches; it's cut and not so thick, like it's slim (idk if that makes sense), and the skin shade is lighter than the rest of his body, almost pale.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?) He's a teenage demigod with ADHD and a war medic... ofc its high

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterward) Is already asleep once aftercare is over because this dude is TIRED healing people all day and sexing miss gurl is in a coma.

#pjo headcanon #will solace #will solace smut #hoo headcanon #hoo stuff #pjo hoo toa #hoo #will solace x reader #will solace x male reader #pjo headcannons #pjo #pjoverse #pjo imagine #writerofthewinds

257 notes · View notes

leighsartworks216 · 2 years

Text

Stay Safe

Illinois x gn!reader

Requested by Anon:

“Damn chief, that Illinois fic was sad, can we get a fluff one with prompts 5 and 18?”

5. “I’ve had a rough day and honestly all I want right now is a drink and someone to cuddle with.”

18. “It’s okay. I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

It's kinda short but it's very cute and once again I'm sorry for such a long wait on requests <333

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 586

Masterlist

Buzz buzz buzz.

Hm? What even fuckin time is it?

You looked over at the clock on the nightstand. 1:32 AM? Who would be calling at a time like this?

Buzz buzz buzz.

You almost declined the call on instinct. After all, you were in the middle of a really good dream when it woke you up, never mind the ever-latent phone anxiety that followed you around. But, when the caller ID said “Cowboy <3”, you just couldn’t find it in yourself to ignore it.

“Hello?”

“Hey, darling. Did I wake you up?”

You curled into your pillow. The sound of Illinois’ voice was always so soothing. He was away on an adventure, searching for some treasure halfway across the globe. You missed being able to hear his voice in the morning. And before bed. And just in general.

You hummed a negative. “It’s okay. I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

Your boyfriend chuckled, catching the grogginess in your voice. “Liar,” he scolded, though it lacked any venom. “What time is it over there?”

“Mmm, 1:30-something.”

“Ah, shit. I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have called if I knew it was so late.”

“But then I wouldn’t get to hear your voice.” You yawned into the receiver. “It’s worth it.”

He smiled, though you couldn’t see it on your end. He loved staying up late and talking with you about nonsense usually, just to see you become sleepier and lose what sense you have to pointless jokes. This statuette couldn’t be in his hands any faster, but he wished he was already on a flight back home right now.

“How’s the trip going?” you murmured. You could picture him standing in the middle of some crowded market right now, passing up offers for overpriced fruit and souvenirs.

He sighed. “I’ve had a rough day,” he admitted, “and honestly all I want right now is a drink and someone to cuddle with.”

You smiled blearily through layers of exhaustion. “Then come back home and cuddle me already.”

A warm chuckle sounded through the phone. “I’ll do my best.”

“What’s been rough?” Your words were becoming more slurred together. You pretended not to notice, and Illinois held on to what time he had left on the phone with you.

“The guy I hired to drive me bailed last minute - something about a mythical beast that haunts the area; probably just an old story to keep kids out of trouble. But now I gotta find someone else to drive me and, well, I may just end up renting a car and going alone.”

A frown tugged at your features at the idea of Illinois going somewhere dangerous alone. He usually had a partner to accompany him, even when you weren’t there with him. Without a partner, he would have no one to watch his back or call for help if he got in trouble. “Stay safe…” The words felt flat and weak. You wanted to talk his ear off about the importance of finding a partner, so he could come home in one piece.

“Don’t worry,” he said. His tone was gentle, reassuring. “I’ll be careful, I promise.”

“You’d better. I love you, cowboy.”

“I love you too, darling. Get some sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight…” Your voice trailed off.

Illinois selfishly stayed on the line a little longer, just to hear your calm breathing. He was bound and determined to get back home to you, no matter what it took. He wasn’t about to leave his partner behind.

#fanfic #fanfiction #markiplier #markiplier egos #gn reader #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #illinois #ahwm illinois #illinois x reader #fluff #request #requested #ahwm #a heist with markiplier #markiplier egos x reader

85 notes · View notes

ducknotinarow · 7 months

Note

[Raph and CC uwu]

Maybe Casey was leaning too much into this cowboy thing for his, and everyone else's, good. At the same time, hoedown's and the like were pretty damn fun, and he'd like to go in with an actual dance partner for once. He knows it's not going to be Raph's thing, but, it's just something fun, they only have to go for an hour if he really hates it.

Regardless, Casey still made sure he was dressed up for it. It was a date after all.

Heading downstairs, Casey smiled, already blushing slightly. Instinctively reaching for his hat, ready to hide his face, as he stood behind Raph,

"Uh, are yer ready t' head out?" He asks, "Can take the horses there if yer wanna?"

| Muse interaction

It was always the plan, at least when Casey originally asked. Raphael was returning home to tell his family of his plans to move in with Casey. Something he greatly wanted to do after all the lame excuses he would make just to see Casey and then deny as if it was further from the truth. The times he buged to take a trip, spending hours to sell why said trip would be worth it to make. Maybe it was the distance between them. Splinter had told him absence makes the heart grow founder once before chuckling and smiling that smile that just always came across as if Splinter knew more than anyone. Raphael couldn't help it though he had fallen for Casey, and he fell hard for them.

Casey had a grip on him what could he say, so or course maybe it was sudden or too soon but when Casey asked it was what Raphael needed to know this was real. It was why he felt everything so intensely when it came to Casey. And Raphael wasn't going to waste his once in a million chance. He knows how it sounds, especially coming from him of all people. But he really felt meeting Casey wasn't just an off chance thing. So he was willing to be a fool and go all in.

Then he was found.

And now his choice to be with Casey may not all just be due to simply wishing to be with his boyfriend almost like running. No one seemed to question it when Raphael said he was going to see Casey. They likely rather he wait till he was more healed but were at least relieved that when he took off it was to go to Casey. And not settle some score.

"Don' start Mikey" was all Raphael gruffes over on his end of the call. Even with him moving away he always called his brothers. Its kind of hard going from being with them all the time to suddenly not. But part of that was Raphael's fault. "I know what ya gonna say I may not be next ta ya but ain't gonna stop me from bapping the back of your head either way."

Though he, of course, missed his brothers don't think anyone could expect him not too. It seemed getting aware after what happened was excatly what Raphael needed. Casey been great for him as he was licking his wounds and healing.

Casey didn't corwd or treat him any different. He still put Raph into his place if he misbehaved. Didn't pity Raph for being broken instead actually got upset and felt bad when Raph started to help him out. It felt good to keep busy though. Busy hands meant he didn't have to wallow. Being around Casey was good for his spirts as well. Always elevated his moods as he got back into teasing them and bickering between them even. Being around the animals he wouldn't admit it was also good for him.

Phone was taken and another voice came over now still teasing over what Raphael was telling them. And they couldn't seem to get enough at how 'country' he was becoming. And it was hard to deny it when it came to his and Casey's plans for the night. Which he was getting grilled over finally giving in "a hoe down."

And the collective laughter had Raphael pull the phone back a little of all times for his service not to suddenly go out. "Shut it." Of course that only spurs his brother on more. "Casey really wants ta go an' ya know. It's a date so sort a gotta go too." Slightly blushing as he leaded back against the nearest wall. Of course they didn't. Leaving Raphael to suffering the privilege thay came with having brothers. The teasing. Only reason he didn't hang up was he sort of missed it. "Yeah yeah laugh it up ya bunch of-"

"Uh, are yer ready t' head out?"

Whatever Raphael was about to fire back with he soon forgot and let his words cut off at the sound if Casey's voice. Turning to look back at Casey only to pause. Beak left to hang open. Casey dressed like he was from a western film already and this wasn't doing Casey any favors on the fact.

But it was doing favors for his looks. Casey was a looker but putting in the effort just seemed to add. He wasn't sure who was talking on rhe phone but hearing his name called repeatedly did seem snap him out of it.

"Casey's here gotta head out." Both working to answer Casey question and end the torment from his brothers. As he hung up and better checked Casey out once they had thier privacy.

"Can take the horses there if yer wanna?"

"Will 'hat be faster?" Was the first thing out of his beak. Walking over as he reached over slightly holding on to the sleeve of Casey's arm as he was getting a better look at Casey. "Cause I don' mind walkin' if means checkin' ya out longer. Not ta mention havin' ya to myself a bit longer?" Raphael smirks a little at the mention. He knows how shy Casey gets at any form of flirting and flattery his way. Wasn't gonna make him ease up though. "Yeah 'm ready though don' wanna waste ya getting dressed up jus' for me after all." Raphael states letting Casey lead the way for them to leave liking still to ride the horses over. Raph was fine with that too.

"Don' worry if I fall behind I'm jus' checkin' ya out. The jeans are doin' justice on the back end here." Raph contuines his less then subtle flirting. "What was that guy's name from the movie ta had us watch the other day?" He waits for Casey's attetion. "Cause gonna take back what I said 'bout 'em now ya could give him a run for that role though." He knows he's laying it on thick but it's hard not too. As they finally make thier way out the door and down the steps. Raphaels tune was changing about going to this thing now that he had the right incentive on what he got out of it.

Yeah being out here with Casey was turly good for him. Even getting him out of the house sure it was so he could oogle his boyfriend but didn't seem like Casey had much issue with that part himself. Raphael moving to slip his hand into Casey's so they could at least fall into the same pace at the moment. As they headed towards the stables together. Open sky above them what felt like a million starts shining down on them.

Maybe Raphael didn't run away from what happened and instead ran to somewhere else. Or better said someone else.

#muse| hamato raphael #madamkezzie #aflockoffeathers #[ if you jumped off a bridge it's only cause i did first -aflockoffeathers]#[cowboy casey au]#ic reply #stay queue #((i dont have much of the cowboy why i space them out so much ;3; just quite farm life that raphs getting into the swing of ;3;))

1 note · View note

hellomynameisbisexual · 3 years

Text

Since the very conception of the motion picture, the LGBT community have been represented on-screen in some form. An early example is Algie the Miner (1912), a short silent film which follows the effeminate Algie (Billy Quirk), who enjoys kissing cowboys. In order to marry someone’s daughter, he heads west to prove that he’s a man. While this is quite an outdated stereotype of being gay, the portrayals have varied greatly over time. Only recently is LGBT representation becoming more positive and common. However, when it comes to portraying bisexuality on-screen, it still seems to be a difficult task.

Many narrative tropes have been birthed through filmmakers trying to show sexuality on-screen and most of them contribute directly to the overall erasure of bisexuality in cinema – usually with ambiguous portrayals, negative stereotyping and characters needing to pick a side. Not all instances are problematic, but their prevalence isn’t helping to combat the stigma that bisexual people face. There are three main tropes when it comes to depicting bisexuality, which is infidelity, picking a side, and the horrible husband. They’re usually found together in a common narrative that erases bisexuality, whether intentional or not.

Infidelity

There’s a long-standing stereotype that bisexual people are more likely to cheat on their partners and are incapable of commitment. This is a trope that is heavily carried in some of the most well-known depictions of bisexuality. Typically, a female protagonist is engaged or married to a man, but she meets a lesbian woman and they become involved sexually and romantically, leaving the protagonist torn between two lovers. This happens in Imagine Me & You (2005) when Rachel (Piper Perabo) falls in love with lesbian flower shop owner Luce (Lena Headey), who provided the flowers for her wedding to Hector (Matthew Goode). It’s a fairly average film that could’ve been amazing had it acknowledged Rachel’s bisexuality, but it’s still one of the better ones considering Perabo and Headey have amazing chemistry.

For some reason, bisexual characters are often in serious relationships when they’re suddenly sexually awakened. This happened to Rachel right after her wedding because she happened to meet the right woman. While this type of experience does happen in real life, it’s always the go-to narrative for films about women realizing they’re not one-hundred-percent straight. In these instances, the same-sex love affair acts as the conflict within the narrative – this can create good drama when done right, but it gets boring and bisexual characters deserve better than constantly being portrayed as cheaters. People are not more promiscuous or likely to cheat on their partners because of their sexuality, but these tropes are constantly telling people otherwise.

We deserve to see bisexual characters whose sexuality isn’t the main narrative focus or who at least explore their sexuality outside of a relationship. Appropriate Behaviour (2014) is a good example of this as Shirin (Desiree Akhavan, who is also the film’s writer and director) is a bisexual Persian American woman who is keeping her sexuality a secret from her judgemental family, while also attempting to rebuild her life after breaking up with her girlfriend. Seeing bisexuality portrayed on-screen is another place where people pick up more stigma or acceptance, and with bisexuality it, unfortunately, seems to be the former. This is why bisexual filmmakers like Akhavan are better suited to portraying the experiences of bisexual men and women than others.

Picking A Side

When the protagonist is in conflict with her sexuality, the people around her usually wonder if she’s a lesbian now – despite them being engaged or married to a man. This can be seen in Below Her Mouth (2010) where Jasmine (Natalie Krill) begins having an affair with Dallas (Erika Linder). When her husband finds out, he tells her “You’re a lesbian” but she tells him that she loves him and nothing has changed between them. It seems impossible to grasp that a person could be attracted to both men and women. Bisexuality is erased.

Some films insinuate that the protagonist isn’t necessarily bisexual or even a lesbian, it’s just that they’re attracted to this one woman only and no others – they’re an exception! This is the kind of impression you get from Below Her Mouth, but also from other films such as Imagine Me & You and Elena Undone (2010), which isn’t particularly helpful for lesbian representation either. In Imagine Me & You, Rachel tells Hector “You are my best friend. That was enough before, and it will be enough again.” This implies that Rachel was never truly attracted to him in a romantic sense, thus implying that she’s a lesbian. While this could be a case of compulsory heteronormativity, it seems problematic as it’s never discussed or explained. Avoiding discussions about sexuality – as most of these films do – are what contribute to this trope massively and result in misinterpretation and erasure.

Films as new as Netflix’s Alex Strangelove (2018) also feed into the idea that bisexuality is a stepping stone to picking a side. Alex (Daniel Doheny) prepares to lose his virginity to his girlfriend but finds his plans derailed when he’s attracted to another boy. He spends most of the film questioning his sexuality and at one point thinks he’s bisexual. The film does highlight biphobia which brings attention to this problem, so it’s disheartening at the end when Alex realizes he is gay and not bisexual after all. The set up for Alex Strangelove was perfect for a bisexual love story and, while it’s still positive LGBT representation, it’s a shame it didn’t stick with that. It’s even rarer to see bisexual men portrayed on-screen, so it would’ve been really rewarding.

It’s important to acknowledge that bisexuality is a comfortable place for some people to be while they’re trying to accept that they are gay – and there’s nothing wrong with that. However, there still seems to be some widespread discomfort when it comes to sexuality being fluid. For bisexual people, there isn’t any side to pick – they’re not torn between polar opposites, nor are they confused. They aren’t on the fence, they’re on both sides of the fence. Nevertheless, films continue to portray bisexuality as a personal conflict that needs resolving, and it does this by putting bisexual characters in a situation where they’re having affairs. This makes their sexuality the narrative conflict, which is wholly problematic in itself.

The Horrible Husband

The protagonist’s fiancé or husband is usually abusive or passive in the relationship, and thus portrayed as the antagonist. She is then drawn to a lesbian woman who treats her so much better and gives her the attention she deserves. Sometimes it’s as though these films are saying that lesbianism is the cure for a dissatisfying heterosexual relationship. This contributes to bisexual erasure by suggesting that bisexual women can only be happy with women and never with a man because they’re horrible or not good enough. It also perpetuates the idea of picking a side – almost telling bisexuals that they should just be lesbians instead.

This trope is found in films like Elena Undone, where Elena (Necar Zadegan) meets Peyton (Traci Dinwiddie) who is a famous lesbian writer. Elena’s husband Barry (Gary Weeks), however, is a homophobic pastor. Elena Undone is actually loosely based on director Nicole Conn’s real-life romance with Marina Rice Bader, but the film itself isn’t great. It’s also shown in The World Unseen (2007) as Miriam (Lisa Ray) quietly follows the customs of 1950s South Africa, alongside dealing with her abusive husband Omar (Parvin Dabas). Miriam becomes empowered to change her circumstances when she meets and falls in love with free-spirited cafe owner Amina (Sheetal Sheth).

A much better film that deals with this trope is Bound (1996). Lesbian ex-con Corky (Gina Gershon) arrives at an apartment building to start work as a painter and plumber. She soon finds herself being seduced by Violet (Jennifer Tilly) who lives next door with her boyfriend Caesar (Joe Pantoliano). Violet explains that they’ve been together for five years and he’s a money launderer for the mafia. She wants to escape and make a new life for herself, so she and Corky plan to steal $2 million of Mafia money and blame it on Caesar. The horrible husband trope actually works well in this film because the women plan to screw Caesar over and it doesn’t use Violet’s infidelity as the main narrative conflict – it’s a lot more original, which isn’t surprising as the first directorial feature film from the Wachowski Sisters. Bound would’ve been much less effective if Caesar was just a regular guy who Violet hated, but she has a better motive with the drama surrounding his violent mafia connections.

These three tropes are collectively the entire plot of Imagine Me & You, Elena Undone, The World Unseen, I Can’t Think Straight (2008), Kiss Me (2011) and more. It’s a shame that there isn’t always a huge focus on the actual relationship between the two women in these films. It’s more about them hiding their relationship and because they officially get together at the end, we never get to see much of what their life is like as a couple. They all feature very similar themes, meaning that when it comes to telling the stories of bisexual characters, the narrative is rarely diverse. Romantic comedies in general always follow the same beats which is fine, but these tropes for bisexual characters either erase their sexuality and/or display it as a problem.

These tropes can still work well (like with Bound) depending on certain aspects of the narrative. Infidelity works well in Carol (2015) due to the 1950s setting. Carol (Cate Blanchett), who is in the process of divorcing her horrible husband, and Therese (Rooney Mara) have to hide their relationship due to homosexuality not being accepted during this time. This adds an extra layer to the narrative, giving actual depth to why things are happening the way that they are. There’s also Disobedience (2017) where it works well due to the Orthodox Jewish culture. Ronit (Rachel Weisz), who is considered bisexual, returns to the community for her father’s funeral to find her childhood friend Esti (Rachel McAdams) married to a man. Esti describes herself as a lesbian woman in a relationship with a man, which is disheartening but works in the film’s world. Disobedience also plays through the infidelity trope very differently to other films, allowing it to be more effective.

The Erasure

In films with bisexual characters, it’s rare that the word “bisexual” actually comes up. It’s mostly ambiguous, implied or erased completely by the protagonist seemingly picking a side. It’s constantly reinforced by narrative tropes that are set up for dramatic entertainment, with no real intention of representing sexuality with genuine care. Erasure also happens due to words like “gay” being used as an umbrella term when referring back to certain films. Brokeback Mountain (2005) and Call Me By Your Name (2017), for example, are often referred to as gay films on social media due to the gay relationships portrayed, However, the characters are portrayed to be sexually fluid/bisexual due to the nature of their relationships with women. It also happens with films like Blue Is the Warmest Colour (2014) which is always painted as a lesbian love story when Adèle (Adèle Exarchopoulos) is clearly bisexual. It’s not necessarily bad to use gay and lesbian as umbrella terms, but it, unfortunately, does contribute to bisexual erasure. We should be bringing more attention to bisexuality on-screen and pointing it out specifically when we see it.

One of the biggest erasures is the portrayal of bisexual men. They appear much less frequently than bisexual women. The most recent example that comes to mind is Jake Gyllenhaal’s character in Velvet Buzzsaw (2019), but the word bisexual was never used and he was portrayed as being promiscuous, which fits into the negative stereotype (although the film is satire so perhaps it can be excused). Some better, or at least more interesting, depictions of bisexual men are still out there and can be found in films such as Velvet Goldmine (1998), Kaboom (2010), The Comedian (2012), The Lobster (2015) and Moonlight (2016).

If anything, bisexual characters are usually left out of the bury your gays/dead lesbian syndrome trope. It’s very common both in film and television for gay men and lesbian women to be killed off in some dramatic way, such as in Brokeback Mountain, The Fox (1967), Les Biches (1968), Lost and Delirious (2001) and A Single Man (2009). Bisexual women have been killed off quite a bit in television – like Marissa Cooper (Mischa Barton) in The O.C. – but they’re relatively safe in film and hopefully, it’ll stay that way.

Acknowledging Bisexuality

It is disheartening that bisexual representation on-screen isn’t as good or as frequent as gay and lesbian representation. We’re also at a time where it could be massively improved, but now we face the barrier of “queer” as another umbrella term. It’s wholly unhelpful when not everyone identifies with it and when we want bisexual characters to say the word bisexual on-screen. We want to be acknowledged. Bisexual actress Stephanie Beatriz made sure her bisexual character in Brooklyn Nine-Nine got to say it earlier this year, because that word means something to certain people and the impact is great. Hopefully this will start to happen more in film going forward.

There are definitely films out there where the word bisexual is actually said, like in Appropriate Behaviour, Kiss Me, Velvet Goldmine and Margarita with a Straw (2014). It’s rare that we hear it so when we do it’s pretty exciting. In addition to these, other films that feature positive and/or complex portrayals of bisexual characters in general (and not the previously discussed tropes) are: Cabaret (1972), Chasing Amy (1997), Black Swan (2010), Atomic Blonde (2017) and Tully (2018).

There have been many positive and negative depictions of bisexuality, but the majority of them aren’t great or feed into the biphobia and the erasure of the identity. Filmmakers need to do better when it comes to portraying bisexual characters and their stories. It’s always helpful when bisexual people themselves get a voice, whether as writers, directors or actors. For some reason, although there are exceptions, most straight male and lesbian filmmakers have trouble portraying bisexuality both positively and accurately. They essentially give the message that bisexuality doesn’t exist or is an inner conflict that needs to be resolved. We must do better because one day someone will be watching a film where a character says “bisexual” and their life will suddenly fall into place.

100 notes · View notes

nugnthopkns · 3 years

Text

eyes full of stars

word count: 3.1k

warnings: insinuated!fem reader, cursing, alcohol consumption, slight sexual innuendo (kind sorta maybe, minors please be aware)

recommended listening: cowboy like me | taylor swift

a/n: it’s cold and snowy. to combat the winter blues i wrote about a sunny minnesota summer with brock :))

You can’t remember the last time you’ve seen Brock this carefree.

The season was hard on him. There were large periods where he didn’t put up any points, and trade rumors started to circulate. Halfway through, before the playoff push even started, the negative social media comments came rolling in. You frequently saw fans request a trade or say that the organization should regret drafting him. Brock did his best to brush everything off, but it was beginning to waer on his mental health. You’re devastated when they fail to make it to the postseason, but you know it’s for the best. The injured team will spend the offseason recuperating and be ready for the next one. Besides, it means you and Brock will get to spend more time on the lake.

So here you are, packing the car for the twenty-seven hour drive to Minnesota. Brock insists on driving, says it’s relaxing, but you aren’t sure you agree. Prone to car-sickness so fierce you can barely look out the window, you’d much rather fly. Everything is exasperated by the fact you’re a nervous traveller to begin with, afraid of taking a wrong turn or missing an exit. You’re a terrible road trip partner but at least Brock could talk to the dogs. Coolie and Milo loved car rides, and you can typically hear your boyfriend having full on conversations with them as you fade in and out of consciousness.

“Ready to go babe?” Brock asks as he closes the trunk. The question is delivered with a bright grin, and despite your anxiety you return it with ease.

“I don’t really have much of a choice do I?”

He shakes his head, chuckling as he moves towards you. Sliding his hands into the back pockets of your jeans he kisses you lazily. It’s comforting and all-consuming at the same time; doing a great job of occupying your mind with thoughts of him instead of the journey ahead. “I suppose not,” he says, planting a final kiss on your forehead. “It’ll be fine. You can take a Gravol right before we cross the border and you’ll be asleep before we hit Seattle.”

It’s the best plan of attack, so you agree immediately. After taking one last run into your shared apartment to use the bathroom and make sure everything is in order, you make yourself comfortable in the passenger seat of Brock’s jeep. Music filters through the speakers at a low volume, and you focus on the retreating skyline of Vancouver. You’re excited to get back to Minnesota, to relax and see your boyfriend in his natural habitat. Countless days are about to be spent lounging lakeside enjoying each other’s company. It will also be nice to spend time with Brock’s family: they’ve been incredibly welcoming over the years and you can’t wait to catch up with them. You know Brock’s itching to spend time with his nephew, and just to be at home.

Just as Brock said, you’re asleep before Bellingham. It’s fitful, and you’re frequently woken up by the dogs barking a little too excitedly in response to something Brock said. However, it does a good job of keeping you from emptying the contents of your stomach onto the floor. Somewhere in Idaho, a good seven hours after you left Canada, you awake for the final time.

“Look boys, Mom’s finally awake!”

You laugh at the comment and lean over the center console to ruffle his hair. It’s still long from the season, and curls slightly around your fingertips.

“You’re hilarious.”

Brock takes his right hand off the steering wheel, unravelling yours from its resting place and entwining your fingers together. He places a kiss to the back of your palm. “You know I’m just teasing,” he whispers. “I know these drives are hard on you. Thank you for doing it twice a year.”

Instead of answering verbally, you squeeze his hand tighter. Though it’s true you hate driving through five states, you’d do it twice a week if it would make Brock happy. It seems a bit much to convey with a single gesture, but you can tell from the smile that graces his features that Brock understands. The two of you sit in silence, enjoying the scenery and trying to scout for a rest stop. Coolie and Milo are getting antsy and you’re also due to stretch your legs.

After letting the dogs run around to release some energy and using the bathroom, you start the final leg of the day. Missoula, Montana, is the destination. Not quite the halfway point, but close enough that you could tackle the rest of the miles tomorrow, the city has a wide variety of pet-friendly lodging. You insist you drive the rest of the way, giving Brock a well deserved rest. Looking at the interstate for hours can cause serious highway hypnosis. Not even twenty minutes after getting back on the road he’s asleep, snoring softly as he rests his head on the window.

You take a moment to admire your boyfriend. He looks so relaxed and peaceful, and the forehead creases that are starting to develop from over analyzing hours of tape disappear. Brock looks years younger, and you know the youthfulness will creep back into him the longer you’re in Minnesota. You can’t wait to see him without any cares again.

Less than two hours later, the hotel creeps up on your left. Pulling into the first available parking space, you turn the car off before waking Brock.

“Brock, we’re at the hotel,” you say softly, jostling his shoulder. “Let’s get checked in and then we shower.”

The mention of washing off a day’s worth of travel has him letting the door fly open. You had made sure to pack your overnight bags in an easily accessible spot, and work at getting them out while Brock wrangles the dogs. For being cooped up all day, they’re extremely well behaved. Once cleaned up you imagine you’ll take them on a long walk and grab some food.

“Hey, give that back. Milo!” you hear Brock yelp, and peek around to see what’s happening. The younger pup has Brock’s bucket hat between his teeth and is in the process of tearing across the parking lot.

With a giggle you call him back. “Milo, come here baby,” you say. Without a second thought, the dog bolts towards you, knocking against your shins when he fails to stop in time. You lean down to scratch Milo’s ear, and as soon as you ask him to drop the object he places it in your open palm. “Good boy,” you coo, letting him lick the side of your face.

“He’s your dog alright,” Brock huffs from where he’s standing, Coolie running circles around his ankles.

You toss the hat over the roof of the car as you laugh at him. “You’re just jealous he listens to me.”

“I sure fucking am. He’d be an absolute nuisance if it wasn’t for you.”

The rest of the night is spent unwinding from the long day. Dinner consists of the greasiest burgers you can find, and you roam around the city hand in hand, the dogs leading you. By the time you get back to the hotel you’re spent. Sleep takes over rather quickly, and you’re dozing off before Brock gets back from brushing his teeth. Once ready for bed, he slides his body against yours. The pair of you fit together like a puzzle, and after a quick kiss you let sleep consume you.

The second day of travel is much the same, except you do a better job of staying awake. You take a different anti-nausea medication and frequently switch with Brock. Conversation flows easily, ideas for summer excursions and repairs that need to be done around the house. The Boeser’s are kind enough to lend you their lake house during the off season, but the property can be a lot to manage. Brock takes it all in stride, and somehow actually enjoys spending hours mowing the grass. He says it’s relaxing, mind numbing work, so you let him handle it. Country music flows from the car speakers, and eventually talking turns into a full on concert. Milo and Coolie do their best to harmonize with Brock, and it’s too cute not to post somewhere. You sneak your phone from your pocket and manage to catch some of it on video, posting to Instagram immediately. Those from the Canucks organization you have on social media will love it; Brock’s teammates will most definitely chirp him for being tone deaf.

It’s late by the time you pull into the driveway of your temporary home, almost eleven. Grabbing only the essentials and leaving the rest to be unpacked tomorrow, you unlock the door before flopping on the couch. The dogs follow suit, laying on top of you. When Brock walks in he shakes his head, but still leans over to kiss you.

“Make sure you text your mom and let her know we made it,” you call to his retreating figure. “And let her know we’ll be over in the afternoon once we get situated.”

You swear he flips you off, no doubt poking fun at your maternal instincts. “Yes ma’am,” he replies.

“Ma’am?” you shriek. “I am not fifty. You’re so gonna get it Boeser.”

After gently nudging the dogs off your legs you’re chasing after him, laughing all the way. Brock’s a lot faster than you, being the athlete he is, but you don’t give up hope. In a last ditch attempt to get him back, you launch yourself forward, square into the middle of his back. The change in weight distribution has him falling to the floor, sprawling the width of the hallway. Both of you are giggling messes, delirious from lack of sleep and the knowledge you get to spend four months of uninterrupted time together.

“I love you, you know that right,” Brock murmurs into the crook of your neck. He dots chaste pecks along the skin and you sigh at the feeling.

Pulling him closer, you make sure to properly enunciate your words as you respond. “Yes sir.”

Brock eyes darken visibly, and he shifts his body so he’s resting on top of you. “You’re in for it now,” he groans, dragging himself to his feet. You quickly follow, meeting his lips in an eager kiss. The pair of you stumble the rest of the way to the bedroom, bodies intertwining like ivy vines, and Brock makes sure to kick the door shut to ensure your pets don’t interrupt the salacious activities he has planned.

☼☼☼☼

You settle into a routine fairly quickly. Mornings are spent alone while Brock works out, and afternoons are for lounging in the sun. The hours after the sun fades away are spent huddling around a bonfire with friends, and midnights are for just the two of you. Sometimes Brock lets himself rest and spends the day in the middle of the lake doing his best to fish, leaving you to spend time with his mom and sister. They’re lovely; warm and welcoming, making sure you’re never too lonely or bored. You and Brock also spend a lot of time with his nephew, doting over the toddler. Seeing your boyfriend with him makes you want kids, but that’s a conversation that is yet to be had in any serious light.

Sometimes you join Brock when he does typical professional hockey player in the summer things. It turns out you're quite the golfer, and have put him to shame many times. Countless days are spent helping him fix the roof of the lake house because he insists on doing it himself even though he knows nothing about roofing. At least seven phone calls to his father and a desperate run to the hardware store later, it’s completed; sealed and free of cracks. Though you’re a terrible fisher, Brock tries his best to teach you. Truth be told, you don’t have any interest in the sport, but his tongue pokes out slightly when he’s thinking about how to explain a concept and you think it’s adorable.

Coolie and Milo are loving being able to roam free, and you both spend a lot of time outside with them. You’re only ever really in the house at night, reading or playing games on the patio furniture Brock’s mom picked out. It’s peaceful; existing like this. You swear you could do it forever.

Being home allows an invisible weight to be lifted off Brock’s shoulders. There’s a pep in his step, and he’s always smiling. Even the intense at-home workouts can’t seem to bring him down. You’re delighted, how could you not be? It’s as if the only things that matter to him are enjoying a few beers lakeside and coaxing you out of shorts in the dark. You suppose that’s the truth.

☼☼☼☼

It’s incredibly warm out. The sun beats down on your back as you turn the pages of your novel, half listening to the conversation Brock is having with his friends. A group of you are on the boat, enjoying one of the last full days of summer. Later in the week you and Brock will pack up the car again, making the long trek back to Vancouver. You’re sad time has passed so fast, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t excited to be back in the city. It’s your home, and the boys seem to be really fired up for the new season. You have a feeling some really good hockey is going to come out of Rogers Arena.

“Yo Y/N, who’s the better driver. Me or Boes?”

The question pulls you from the fantasy taking place on the pages, and you look to see who’s speaking to you. It’s Brock’s dearest childhood friend, someone you consider family at this point. “It’s absolutely not Brock,” you shrug. The comment earns a loud laugh from everyone and you find yourself joining in.

“Ouch babe, that hurts,” Brock says as he slides into the free space next to you. Casually wrapping a strong arm around your shoulder, he leans down to whisper into your ear. “Looks like you need to be taught a lesson.”

His words have a vaguely sexual connotation, and you look around nervously. Your swimsuit won’t cover the flush that will be sure to rise on your skin if Brock tries anything. Everyone seems to be engaged in their own conversations, but you still feel queasy about getting caught. Though Brock’s friends are the type to laugh it off, you’d be absolutely mortified.

Before your brain can overthink anything else, you’re being lifted from your seat. It only takes two seconds for Brock to hoist you over the side of the boat and throw you into the cool water. You land with a glorious splash, but take your time coming to the surface. Partly to bring your temperature down, partly to make your lover squirm.

“You’re a fucking asshole,” you yell to him from below, but the bright smile you flash him lets Brock know you don’t mean it.

He sets his hat on top of your book before climbing over the edge. “Shut up,” he fires back, diving gracefully to join you in the water.

A small splashing match breaks out, and soon everyone else is in the water, picking sides. You swim until your skin is wrinkled beyond recognition, pruned and puckered something akin to a raisin. Only once the sky begins to redden do you head for home. Brock keeps the boat at cruising speed, and you sit comfortably in his lap. Once back on land, dinner is quickly thrown together. A mish-mash of what’s left in your fridge and what others have brought, but it works. The boys huddle around the grill and everyone else swoons over the dogs, who are on their best behaviour.

Later in the night, once the dishes are cleaned up and some guests with day jobs have left, you settle into Brock’s side at the fire. Not caring if you get chirped for the PDA, you hold his face in both your hands and rest your forehead against his. The scruff that’s grown in since the last time Brock shaved tickles slightly, but you’re too in love with him to care. It’s been so refreshing to see him relaxed, acting without a care in the world. Hopefully the attitude he currently has will stick and not disappear once you hit the Vancouver city limits.

Brock takes a sip of his beer before offering the bottle to you. You gingerly place it to your lips, making a face at the taste. He laughs at your reaction, pushing a few loose strands of hair behind your ear.

“Still tastes disgusting,” you mutter, reaching for your own drink to wash away the taste.

The fire crackles gently behind you but you barely register the sound, in your own little world where everything is perfect. It’s you, Brock, and the dogs living in a house similar to the one you’re currently residing in, living life to the fullest.

“You gonna come back to me, space cadet?” Brock chuckles, tracing the outline of your nose.

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry,” you apologize. “Was just thinking.”

“About what?”

“Us. The future. Living in a lake house just like this one and spending all our time being so in love with each other that our friends constantly make fun of us. Maybe having kids in a couple of years. How I love seeing you like this; so at peace and full of life.”

In lieu of a response, Brock kisses you passionately. It’s a soft kind of passion: one that holds you tenderly and whispers sweet nothings in your ear. He tastes like the Coors Light he’s been drinking, but somehow the idea of beer is much more appealing when mixed with Brock. You lose yourself in him for a while, relishing in the gentleness of his hands resting on your waist. Eventually you return some of your attention to the others, but even then you can’t find it in yourself to focus. Your mind is filled with nothing but love for Brock.

It’s seems that he’s feeling the same way, because he continually leaves kisses across your shoulder blade. “I really, really love you,” Brock confesses, and you feel him smile through the thin material of your worn hoodie.

You intertwine your pinky with his and let them sit comfortably in your lap. “I love too. So much that it’s all consuming.”

Brock often leaves you breathless in more ways than one, but sweet sentiments like this will always take the cake. Especially when they happen on summer nights where he’s free to be his authentic self.

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @jamiedrysdales @kiedhara @tortito if you want to be added shoot me an ask :)

#why tf did i spend so much time detailing the car ride lmao #brock boeser imagine #brock boeser x reader #brock boeser fic #vancouver canucks imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #cwrites

230 notes · View notes

g-on-ef · 3 years

Note

Imagine Blitz being in a meeting with a client and unlike the others, is watching the panic button lights like a hawk. Hes not about to let some crazy client hurt his boyfriend.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A/N: I took the same scene from the first episode and somewhat put it on the first paragraph but I'm excited for this one because of the client ^^ hope y'all like it ^^

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Striker stared at the call button resting on the desk he ignored the chaos that was going on around him.

Millie trying to get Moxxie to overcome his fears of killing a family {he seriously needs to get over that, he's a fucking murder he should be use to getting his hands dirty by now family or not}

Loona on her phone while ignoring the fact that the target Moxxie was trying to aim at was right next to her.

If Moxxie so much as hurt her there will be hell to pay.

Still Striker kept a close eye on the panic button. An Overlord came to visit them, not just any Overlord...Valentino.

Striker didn't want to leave Blitz alone with the fucktard.

Valentino wasn't his favorite Overlord, he was good friends with Angel Dust {despite him being a sinner}and when the spider demon would come to his apartment to get away from the moth douche bag Striker would always send Valentino a message as to why he shouldn't harm someone under his protection.

When the Overlord came in and demanded to speak to Blitz about hiring him for a job Striker immediately wrapped his tail around Blitz, showing the fucker that Blitz was under his protection as well as his mate since Striker kissed him in front of the moth demon and if anything happens to him he'll do more than destroy his clubs and kill his business partners.

They've been in the office for a good while now and Striker was getting antsy, he was tempted to barge in thinking the worse but he knew that if his mate was truly in danger Striker would've felt it through the bond.

So far all he felt was fear and reassurance as if his mate was sending him calming thoughts so that he didn't go barge in and attack the fucker there and then.

Still he kept his eyes on the panic button the minute he sees it go red is the minute he goes off.

"Hey dad what's wrong?" He looks up and sees Loona giving him a concern look.

"Nothing sweetie..."

His eyes flicker to the panic button and sees it going off, not wasting any time Striker heads for the door the mating bite was burning with fear and anxious.

Moxxie, Millie, and Loona stopped what they are doing as they see their second in command bargain through the door.

Striker kicks the door down and sees Valentino holding Blitz by his shirt.

"You will kill Vox's little sister!"

"I'm not killing a fucking five year old just because your boy toy decided to leave you for your other boy toy!"

Valentino was about to punch Blitz before a shot was aimed at the Overlord, the bullet purposely grazing his arm.

"Fuck!" Val grabbed his arm as blood spilled off it. A bullet bless by the angels. That shit was gonna scar.

He turned to see Striker point his angelic gun towards him. Glaring down at the Overlord.

"Thought I made it clear that you never, ever lay a hand on those I care about, and touching my mate is a huge no,"

Valentino turned to glare at the imp who was staring him down with a killer glare.

The Overlord growled at the fucker who dare shot at him.

"You dare shoot me?"

Striker's response was shooting him again only this time right on the shoulder.

"FUCK!"

"Get the fuck out, or the next bullet goes straight to your head,"

"I could kill you and your little whore,"

"I'd like to see you try,"

The two glare at each other before Valentino stood up straight, glaring at the imp he walked away from them.

"If you weren't Lilith's son I'd kill you here and now,"

"Tch, I don't need my incubator to defend me, we both know that you just a weak ass bitch who needs his own men to defend them. You may be an Overlord but we all know that that's just a fancy title for pigs like you to use to scare us Hellborns. We all know who's really at the bottom of the barrel don't we Val?"

The moth demon glared at him before he walked away Striker stepped back but kept his gun pointed at Valentino.

When the overlord stepped out Millie glared at him Moxxie hid behind her and Loon stood close by Striker, the cowboy pull her closer to his body. Fear that Valentino might take a cheap shot and hurt her .

Once he was gone Striker looked at her and the other imps.

"Go home, you guys have the rest of the day off," neither Millie nor Moxxie question him and headed back home.

Loona looked at her dad.

"Go upstairs and stay there till me and papa get there,"

Loona nodded her head before she also left.

Once everyone was gone Striker stepped into the office Blitz looked at him before offering him a reassuring smile.

Striker sat down on the couch and watched as Blitz settled some paperwork.

"Are you...okay?" striker asked him.

"Huh, oh yeah."

Striker checked the bond and saw that Blitz was being honest with him.

Blitz pit away his stack of papers before walking over to Striker and sitting down on his lap.

He lean down and kissed his mate pulling back he gave him a smile.

"Not that I enjoy your kisses but what was that for?"

"Well considering that my mate was a total bad ass today I say he deserves a reward,"

"Oh, and what reward would that be?" Striker's tail wrapped around his mate.

"I can think a few things," Blitz purred as he untied Striker's bandana and removed his jacket.

When Valentino showed up Blitz was scared but he wasn't worry how could he be when he knew his own personal guardian demon was watching over him.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A/N: Idk why but I personally love to write Striker and Charlie as siblings ^^ but anywhore love it hate it tell me what you think also don't forget I am still taking any and all Striker/Blitz prompts ^^

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

#striker x blitzo #blitzo x striker #blitzo helluva boss #helluva striker #helluva boss striker #helluva boss #answers asked #anon #anonymous

62 notes · View notes

whatanoof · 3 years

Text

Cold Hands and Warm Bodies

Merry Christmas! This is a Secret Santa gift for @autumnleaves1991-blog!

There’s a sequel now!

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Whiskey x Reader

Word Count: ~4.7k

Content: fluff, dancing, swearing, oral sex(female receiving), rougher sex, fluffy, smut, there’s a part at the beginning where Reader rejects a man’s advances but it doesn’t get past name-calling

A/N: I liked the idea of a lonely Christmas in a new city turning into something much better through unexpected events, especially since so many are going to be celebrating with less people than normal due to the pandemic. The music referenced is Gasoline by Halsey from her Badlands album.

Your parents had begged you to not complete the move over the holidays, surely it could have waited a couple of weeks so that you could celebrate with your family. But you were decided, and the timeline of your new employment was not up to you. Staying in LA for Christmas wouldn’t have benefited anyone. The confidential nature of your job meant you couldn’t talk about your job with your family, and that’s all that families really want to know besides if you have a boyfriend yet. This left more rumors flying between the aunts than bullets around a battlefield. At this point, you’re pretty sure that your own mother thinks that you’re a prostitute.

Alcohol is an easy option to curb loneliness. The drink burns on the way down, but you savor it. It’s been cold in the new city, and you haven’t been able to shake the chill since moving. Your current choice of atmosphere is the bar closest to your house, leaving you with the freedom to slam as many drinks as would let you forget how alone you are at the time of year when no one should be alone. You don’t have to drive home this way. But now, inside and looking around at the excessive Christmas decorations, you begin to wonder if this was the best way to avoid the holidays.

There are Christmas wreaths all around, draped over as many surfaces as possible. Mistletoe hangs near the corners of the cleared section of floor, and you wouldn’t be surprised if some of those corners were soon occupied by drunk dancers. Lights dangle over the bottles behind the bar, and the bartender is wearing a Christmas elf headband. And to top it all off, most everyone inside has a partner, making you stick out like a sore thumb. Your sole point of luck is that the bar isn’t Western based.

“Well, hello good-looking.”

The moment is shattered by the stranger’s arm around your shoulders, pulling you too close for the small amount of liquor in your body. The brunette man smells like spearmint, but his breath clearly reveals his state of mind.

“The name’s Grey. Now, I heard a little birdie that told me that you’d be coming home with me tonight.” His grin appears genuine, but something glitters in his eyes that sends an icy distrust through your gut.

You turn away. “No thank you.” Better not to give him any attention, drunks are never reasonable if you let them believe for even a second that they have a chance.

“Now that’s not very kind. I was being civil, and you rebuff a poor man who just wants a warm bed tonight. May I at least get the lady’s name so that I can address her properly? Where’s the Southern hospitality? ” You catch a concerned look from the bartender, though there’s no need to worry. This isn’t your first rodeo.

“Nonexistent, Grey.” You grab his wrist, yanking it off of your shoulder.

For a blissful second, the contact is gone, then it returns, and now his fingers are digging into your bare skin. His hands are cold. The handheld taser in your pocket is burning, and you reach for it as he snaps, “Now, there’s no need to be a bi--”

“Hey now,” The new voice is sudden, but there’s a distinctive Southern drawl to the baritone voice that sends pleasant tingles down your spine. Now that is a voice that you could listen to the rest of the night. “The lady said no. And last I checked, Southern hospitality doesn’t apply when said person isn’t Southern.”

The arm around your shoulders vanishes and you slowly reach for your bag. Angry voices echo behind you, but you’re too preoccupied with leaving to worry yourself with the brewing argument. Goddammit you had only come for drinks, and now you might have to duck out before a fight starts.

But the angry voices lower and the normal barroom din returns. You slowly release your bag to rest once again at your feet, and a new man appears on the stool at your elbow.

“Good evening.” It’s the rumbling voice of your faceless Southern gentleman.

He saved you, but that doesn’t mean you can trust him. Feigning disinterest is more difficult now, but you take a sip of your drink and focus hard on how the light from the glass catches the amber liquid. “Thank you for stepping up. Doesn’t happen often.”

“Unfortunately. Mostly for the men if you end up pulling that taser.” The casual observation catches your attention.

You turn and finally look your gentleman in the eye. Oh. You weren’t prepared for him to be so-- gorgeous. That’s really the only word you can summon to your scattered brain at the moment because, damn. Dark hair brings out darker eyes that glimmer warmly in the lowlights of the bar despite the cowboy hat. A mustache accents plush lips. Tan skin and bold features draw you in, and you don’t want to stop looking except he clears his throat and you realize that you’ve been staring for much longer than the appropriate time.

“Is there something on my face?” Your eyes dart back up to his face and you’re struck by how unfair it is that someone can be so effortlessly attractive.

“N-- no!” Stammering, really? Dammit you’re a full grown woman, pull yourself together. “How-- how could you tell I’m not from around here?”

He beckons a finger to you, and you lean in. “I am an undercover operative working with an American based agency that deploys me worldwide to handle top-secret missions.”

You raise an eyebrow, leaning back to take him in again. The jacket over the tight shirt shows his athletic build rather well, and you wouldn’t be surprised if it were true, “Really?”

“No. It’s the accent.”

You laugh and roll your eyes. The pleased smile spreading over his face matches the one sneaking over your own. “You’re right, I just moved here.” A thought strikes you, “What are you doing alone in a bar during the holidays? No family or friends to visit?”

“None left that mean enough.” The statement is casual enough, except there’s a tension in his voice that makes you hesitate. “And I could ask you the same thing. What motivates a lady to move to a new city, all alone at Christmas?” The tension passes and he waves at the bartender, who immediately turns and starts making a drink. He’s a regular here, apparently.

“A job,” You swirl the remnants of your drink lazily before finishing it, “I’m starting tomorrow.” The last dregs slip down your throat, and the burning buzz will last for now.

“Ah, a beautiful woman and a hard worker. It’s too much for my heart.”

“If that alone is too much, then this is going to be a short evening indeed.” The subtle innuendo doesn’t fly over either of your heads, and you don’t miss the smile spreading across his face when you flirt back.

“I think I may surprise you, darling. We’re both willing to work for what we want.” His drink arrives, and he takes a sip. Heat pools in your core at the implications. “If this evening is going to continue, may I have the lady’s name so that I can address her properly?”

You hum low in your throat in response. You’ve never brought a man home at the first meeting, never allowed flirting to be anything more than that on the first night. But something’s different about this one. In a split second decision, you give it to him.

He repeats the syllables after you, rolling them around his tongue in a way that sends a thrill through you as you wonder what else he can do with it, “Gorgeous. George, another drink for the lady, on my tab.”

You tilt your head back, catching his eyes, “And may I then have the gentleman’s, so that I may know the name of my fearless knight in… shining leather and spurs?”

He laughs, “Jack Daniels.”

“Jack Daniels, like the whiskey brand?”

“Something like that.” His grin is mysterious and seems a little too practiced, but that’s fine with you. You smile back anyway. Your drink arrives, and you raise the glass to Jack as you take a sip, though you find that the burn of the whiskey doesn’t leave you with the same satisfaction.

A song starts playing in the background, and you straighten up and glance over your shoulder at the dance floor. “Wait, I--”

“--love this song.” You both finish the sentence together. You look back at him hopefully, and he looks at you with a bit of a challenge in his eyes.

The stool scrapes across the floor and he rises, extending a hand to you, “Would you care to dance, sweetheart?”

“Depends. Are we going to square dance?”

“Only if you want to, darling.”

“Yes to the dancing, no to the square dancing then.” You accept his hand and walk with him to the center of the dance floor. Your drinks remain abandoned at the bar.

The bassy thrum of the music and crooning vocals keep your hips undulating against his, but Jack has other ideas. He hasn’t let go of your hands, and your arms are crossed over your chest when he draws them up and over your head. Your arms extend and you spin, meeting his eyes as you grasp his hands.

The alternative pop song doesn’t translate perfectly to the style that he brings, but you can hardly complain. Around you, people are grinding against each other, but a small space clears for him to sway and turn with you. It’s surprisingly fun compared to what you knew of night dancing in a bar.

The tempo slows and you step inside his reach so that your back is against his chest.

‘Are you strange like me?

Lightin’ matches just to swallow up the flame like me?’

His breath catches hot and heavy in your ear as you press back into him, savoring every breath and drop of sweat that is your effect on him. The verse fades, and you allow him to lead once again. The melody swells in your head, drowning out everything around you until it’s only him and you. But this time the lyrics make you wonder about the man holding your hands.

‘Well, my heart is gold and my hands are cold.’

The music ends with a crescendo and a final spin, and you’re left panting as your gaze locks with Jack’s. He’s holding you firmly, one hand on your waist, and your bodies feeling like they’re steaming in the chilly air. The spell breaks with a single glance upwards from him.

“Well that’s a fine addition to an already wonderful night.” There’s a tinge of amusement in his voice, and you follow his gaze.

The mistletoe hangs directly overhead. You glance down, a thrill of nerves running through your body at the intensity in Jack’s stare. Something must have shown in your eyes or body language, because he relaxes and loosen his grip on your waist.

“Only with your permission of course, darling.” He’s fighting it, but disappointment clouds his tone, and he withdraws. “I understand if it’s not something you wan--”

You cut him off by snagging his collar and pulling him close. The surprise on his face gives way to a smirk as you quip, “Don’t mind if I do, cowboy.”

Then his lips are on yours and you’re melting into him. The bar fades into the background and you lose yourself in a man that you had met three hours ago. He tastes like your drink. Tingles spread through your body as he deepens the kiss, warming you to the tips of your fingers.

Then you’re being pressed backwards until you hit the wall, hands instinctively flying up to tangle in his already messy hair. Something soft and firm brushes your fingertips, and you snag it on instinct, lifting Jack’s hat to plop it on top of your own head. He breaks the kiss, a soft smile spreading over his face when he pulls back to look at you.

“Do I make a good cowgirl?”

“Looks better on you than me, darling.” He kisses you again, hands sliding over your waist down to your ass, and you don’t think that’s a lasso pressing up against you. A low moan rumbles out of his throat, and you stifle a whimper at the sound. He chuckles, “Want to get out of here, cowgirl?”

“Yeah.” Lust boils in your stomach. You can’t seem to tear your eyes away from his kiss-swollen lips that part ever so slightly so you can see his tongue flick over them.

“Got any friends to notify of your immediate departure?” His breath ghosts over your skin and his dark eyes flick up from your lips to meet yours, warming your body as you lose yourself in the deep brown.

“No, too new to the city.” You whisper back, the noise of the club fading into the background while a wave of heat crashes over your body, swelling between your legs.

“Your place or mine?”

---

Funny enough, Jack didn’t bring a car either, but he doesn’t explain and you don’t question it. You don’t regret walking the short five minutes to and from the bar, especially when Jack pulls you close to his side as you walk. You’re just passing under the bridge on your street when he stops walking.

“Stop, do you hear that?” You instantly freeze, eyes darting around for any perceivable threat. There’s too many potential hiding places, the shadows of the bridge supports could hide a man of any size and--

“Listen closely…” He hums the tune from the bar and steps away, tugging you forward a couple of steps. He pulls you back into him, and you’re able to hear the melody through the vibrations in his chest.

‘You can’t wake up, this is not a dream.’

You find your rhythm. The tempo picks up, only a shadow in your mind as you sway to the invisible beat. He matches you easily, and the two of you move with an unpracticed ease out from beneath the shadow of the bridge into the streetlight glow. The melody swells, and you laugh when a breeze ruffles your hair. You sing the last line to him.

‘Well, my heart is gold and my hands are cold.’

You end up back in his arms, breathing hard and smiling up at Jack. His fingers slip down to interlock with yours, “I can help with that.” You should be freezing, but heat throbs under your skin in time with your racing heart.

He leans in, but just before his lips touch yours, you whisper, “Jack? We’re here.”

His eyes shift over to your front door briefly, then back to you. He grins. “Nice place.”

---

You laugh as you stumble through your front door, your back hitting yet another wall when Jack pins you to the side of the living room. Heated kisses trail down your neck and a muscled thigh slides between yours. You shudder at the contact against your clothed pussy, your heartbeat throbbing between your legs fiercely.

“Jack, bed’s that way.”

“Oh sweetheart, that would be the end goal for sure.” Hands support your rear, and you fold your legs around him. You’re vaguely aware of him walking you towards the door that you indicated, but you can’t bring yourself to pay attention when he’s licking into your mouth and he’s so close and so warm and right there for you to enjoy. He lays you gently on the bed, legs dangling off the edge.

“You want this?” The question is so starkly unexpected that you blink and sit up for a moment. He’s standing there between your legs, hair disheveled and shirt half unbuttoned. His pupils are completely lust-blown and his shoulders are heaving with the heavy breaths he’s taking, and you’re struck with the thought that this is the first time someone has thought to ask. But you’d have to be half-dead to say no now.

“Yes.”

And then he’s undoing your pants and dropping to his knees in front of you. Warm breath ghosts over your exposed skin after he gently peels your pants off. You squirm as large, warm hands rub over your inner thighs. “Beautiful.” But he is too, with the way he glances up at you from between your legs. He’s absolutely beautiful, as he carefully pulls your panties to the side and drags his tongue through your folds.

“You taste better down here, sweetheart.” He immediately concentrates around your clit, tracing lazy circles around the sensitive nub and you forget how to breathe.

Your hips roll against his face, trying to gain more friction than what he’s giving, and you whimper as his mustache leaves a tingling trail on your skin. The heat pooling within your core is begging for more, and you’re close to doing the same as he continues to patiently taste you.

“Gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous. I’m going to make you feel so good, darling, you’re going to be screaming my name.” A thick finger rests against you, gathering your wetness and continuing to massage against your clit while his tongue finally dips to press against your entrance. You flutter in response, a whine scraping against the back of your throat. His tongue presses deep into your core, and you clench around the insistent pressure.

“Ja-Jack I’m go-gonna--” The words refuse to come smoothly, but he seems to sense your urgency. His tongue returns to your clit, sucking and kissing the flesh while his finger slips into your pussy.

“Come, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” Every flick of his tongue against your clit pulls another whine from you. Fuck, something inside you snaps and then heat is burning through your body. The wave crests, and you dimly hear a choked moan when your floor muscles convulse and heat drips from you.

He continues to taste you long after you’ve stopped convulsing, while the light fades from you vision and you regain feeling in your limbs. And you understand something. He’s tasting you simply to taste you, giving for the sake of giving. You know why you allowed it to get past the flirting stage.

“You doing good, darling?” He climbs up over you and kisses you, lips molding to yours like they were made to. He tastes like you.

You can’t respond, don’t want to when it means pulling away from this moment right now. The only thing you want right now is to stay like this, to stay in this perfect warmth, where the only thing you know is that he’s kissing you and you’re floating on the sheer feeling of being able to give because you feel like it.

Then he shifts, and you feel his erection brush against your thigh. And your gut tells you it’s his turn now. You move your leg, bringing it up between his thighs. It bumps against his length, and he tenses, pulling away and dropping his head to the crook of your neck. And you take the moment to flip the two of you, straddling his hips.

“Give me a second, darling, have to find a condom.” His arm reappears from the edge of the bed with his wallet, but you stop him.

“I have an implant. Are you clean?”

“Last checkup, yes. And I haven’t been with anyone since.”

You smirk, “Well then I see no need.”

He exhales, arms going behind his head as he grins up at you, “I’d have to say, as enjoyable as that just was, seeing you like this?” He shakes his head, “Best part of the night.”

“It’s about to get better.” His dick is velvety hard between your thighs, and you can’t help grinding down on it just a little.

“I’ll believe it when I feel it.” He groans, head falling back against the pillow.

The challenge floats in the air, and you grab both it and his length in a single moment. He’s going to be saying your name soon. Notching it at your entrance, you sink down in a single motion. He drags against your insides so perfectly, fitting to you and filling you so completely. Your back arches at the burning stretch, but all you can focus on is Jack’s groan when your butt meets his hips, how his body seizes under you, and how his hands fly to clutch at you.

But his cock inside you isn't enough, you need more contact, need to know that he’s right there with you. You grab his wrists and drag his hands up to your breasts, relishing the moan that escapes him as he squeezes them.

Your name echoes through the air, followed by his gasping breaths as you raise yourself off of him and sink back down. The heat starts building inside you again. His hips jerk up into you, seemingly unintentionally. “God, fucking perfect. Feel so good around me. Not gonna last, not after earlier, please sweetheart.”

You grind down onto him, finding your rhythm again. The fire inside of you is constant and overtaking you. It swells on its own without needing anything else besides Jack, who’s looking up at you like you’re the only star in the sky.

“You look so good bouncing on my dick, cowgirl, but I’m going to have you under me, squirming for me while I get you to keep making all of those cute noises. I’ll be-- fuck!” His breath catches and his hands dig into the flesh of your hips, and a voice in the back of your mind tells you that you’re going to have bruises tomorrow. You can’t seem to bring yourself to care.

You fight to retain your own rhythm, but it’s unsustainable, and your screaming muscles wear down in the face of Jack’s strength. They give out, and you’re caught in the rhythmic slapping of skin as Jack takes over.

“Ja- Jack! Fuck!” You can’t organize yourself enough to think, let alone acknowledge him while he continues to drive up into you. The ragged cries ripped from your throat lose all coherency. It’s too much, and the orgasm rising through your body is taking your mind with it. A hand detaches from your waist and presses directly against your clit, rocketing you further towards your climax. “Jack!”

“Come on sweetheart, I know you’ve got another in you. Let go. Let me take care of you.”

Your own orgasm hovers at the edge of your mind, but you shove it away in favor of tripping his. His breaths are coming heavier now, and his hips continue to slam upwards into yours. He’s going to outlast you at this rate, unless--

A hand grips your neck just enough that you register the pressure, and he drags you down against his body. The world flips around once more, and then you’re underneath him instead and his arms are planted on either side of your head as he-- fuck. The pace increases, no it must multiply by some large number because your body is shaking with every thrust, and the headboard is slamming against the wall and you’re glad that you don’t share these walls with anyone else. Your cry is muffled by his mouth, but the new angle causes him to drive up against something inside you that you swear makes you see a corner of heaven.

It spikes with a fury, driving you over the edge as you clamp down around him. Your body seizes, arching against Jack as the shockwaves claim your body. You’re rocketed somewhere high above the clouds for the second time tonight, and all you can really comprehend is how happy you are that you brought him home. And through the haze, you faintly hear him purring in your ear, “Good girl, pretty girl, gorgeous. Gorgeous.”

He keeps fucking you through your high, and you need him to cum. You need him to feel the same bliss that you do, and you know how to do it. The idea barely crosses your mind before your body accepts it, and your floor muscles clamp down almost of their own volition. He falters, and a gasp is the only sound you hear before he’s coming. His hips piston out and in one last time, and then he’s spilling deep inside you.

When the light fades from behind your eyes, you feel yourself being shifted. Your combined juices trickle down your leg as he pulls out, and your back is pressed against his chest. You drift, blinking in and out of consciousness. You feel him rise from behind you and then hear the sound of running water. He returns moments later, and there’s a damp cloth cleaning between your legs before he’s back in bed behind you, arms locked around your waist and pulling you close. His fingers intertwine with yours over your belly, and as they brush against the skin of your stomach, you realize that they aren’t cold anymore. He drags the comforter over your bodies.

The world around you is dissolving in a haze of exhaustion, but his voice rumbles through the fog. You’re so comfortable and warm, and by all rights you should be asleep. But you force yourself back to the world of waking, enough to hear him thanking you as he plants slow kisses along the back of your neck. The delicious warmth of his skin against yours draws you farther under and stifles the confusion at the statement, and you finally surrender to the exhaustion pulling at your body.

---

Your phone alarm wakes you the next morning to an empty bed.

Realistically, you shouldn’t have expected him to be there, shouldn’t have hoped that it could have been more than a one time thing. Right? You’re a certified badass, a top-rated handler at Statesman Distillery who has guided multiple agents and friends through life and death scenarios. You deal in realism and pessimism. You have had one night stands before, none of which led to any kind of connection. You don’t need emotional connection to function. This shouldn’t be any different. Right?

Except you know how you normally feel after one night stands, and this isn’t it.

You’re on autopilot as you shower and dress for your first day. All you can think about is the warmth of his hands as they ran over your skin, his smirk as he caught your eye, mouth glistening with your release. His quiet ‘thank you’ last night as he curled his body around yours before falling asleep. If you could have had a say, you would have wanted more than one night. A second chance, maybe, but it’s not like you get many of those these days.

Statesman Distillery is across the street from last night’s bar, and the brisk air helps to clear your head and prepare you mentally. As soon as you walk through those doors, you’re Agent Seltzer, not a girl pining for a man whom you barely know beyond his name. You hesitate under the bridge on your way to work. The music echoes in your ears and chest. You keep walking.

The receptionist directs you to your new office. Top floor, third door on the left. It’s roomier than your last one, though now you’re at HQ, not the LA branch office. A woman meets you at the elevator. She is slight, but her steely composure and short cut hair give her an air of maturity and ability.

“Good morning and Merry Christmas, Seltzer.” She’s holding a basket with a label that reads ‘Happy First Day!’ “I’m Ginger Ale, the head overseer of the base-side handlers, and I’ll be giving you the basic acclimation on your first day. Sorry that it had to be a holiday, but an impending crisis in Chicago has just taken a turn for the worse. The mission briefing has been sent to your tablet.”

Your brow furrows slightly, and she continues as if she could read your internal question. “This isn’t usually my job, but it’s the holidays and most of the other agents trained in onboarding are on leave. We’re throwing you into the deep end on your first day, unfortunately, but your superiors at the LA branch assured us that you would take to it naturally.”

She sets the gift basket on your desk, and you notice the largest item in the basket is a bottle of the famed Statesman whiskey. You idly take it out and study the label. “Interesting first day gift.”

Ginger shrugs with a faint smile, “That’s directly from your assigned field agent, Agent Whiskey. He gifts those to his new handlers.”

“Any reason why?”

“He--” She seems to start to say something, then stops herself, “It’s an early apology. He’s experienced, and he operates as he sees fit. He burns through handlers faster than a hot knife through butter.”

The challenge floats above your head at the explanation, and you take it. “I’m assuming that I will get to meet Agent Whiskey before our official briefing?”

“Yes,” Ginger checks her watch, “In about… two seconds.”

“Sweetheart.” The voice is achingly familiar, and memories of last night crash over you like a heatwave. Second chances, hm?

Part Two if anyone cares for it

#pedros12daysofchristmas #smut #fluff #agent whiskey #kingsman #statesman #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #ginger ale makes a cameo and is a tired badass

183 notes · View notes

postmodernmulticoloredcloak · 3 years

Text

I decided to watch the Walker pilot so you don’t have to. #2

Because I don’t love myself enough, I guess. Let’s continue.

Recap in case you missed the first part: it’s boring, Jared acts like he stumbled on the set and never heard about it before, Texan law enforcement must wear very pristine shirts and cowboy hats or they will die, I guess, the cinematography wants to be good but I’m not sure it knows how to do it.

The last thing I mentioned in the first post was Jared doing a thing with his mouth but I think you need to see it. It’s basically the extent of Jared’s acting in this show. I had nothing against you, man, I swear. I even got your autograph once. I’m not a hater. I’m just looking at him...

THE TITLE CARD! I had paused the episode riiight before the title card. You have to witness it in all its embarrassing glory

Whose idea was it??

Some shots of the city of Austin. Walker and Martinez (Mexican Lady Cop) are having lunch. She says she’s heard about him, he asks what she’s learnt, she says, I textuallty quote, “I hear you are the edge of the coin”. Again, we are not allowed to have any kind of slight metaphor without the dialogue slapping us in the face with it.

“Not head or tail, just... your way” Jared didn’t even come up with the metaphor in that interview, it was in the script. Unless he came up with that line, which isn’t even a good line.

She basically tells him not to get in the way of her career. Being a Mexican-American cop is hard! Such deep commentary.

They start discussing the case, which I had already forgotten about. The cop who was slightly assaulted and won’t talk about it. “Maybe whatever was in that truck spooked him enough to abandon his oath” maybe it was a monster. god I wish it was a monster so that’d mean I’m watching Supernatural and Jensen is in it. The “oath” thing is kinda icky, like they want to remind us that being a cop is a noble path. It is in some places under some conditions. But we’re talking about Generic American conditions.

He’s like “let’s use the traffic cams to see if we can see something” and he slips right into his Sam tone. Admittedly that’s a Sam kind of thing to say.

It was day, and now it’s night. Walker house. He arrives when his family have already started dinner. Except the daughter isn’t there, she’s out with a friend. “Isabel, some Mexican girl” Walker’s father calls the friend. “Mexican American, dad” the gay brother corrects him, a deep and interesting commentary on ethnicity in the United States, we’re weeping with emotion.

Walker apparently isn’t happy that his mother has enrolled his daughter in a Catholic school, his father snaps back at him. We don’t care. We’re not emotionally invested in any of this.

There’s some awkward dialogue because he mentions the daughter playing basketball, but she’s switched to soccer. Wow, it’s like she’s become an entirely different person in those eleven months he was undercover! Can you believe? Apparently she used to play soccer before, she’s come back to it. Whoa. She’s an utterly unrecognizable person now, it’s going to be so hard for Walker to get to know her again from scratch. Can you believe?

Then he gets a call. He needs to pick up the daughter from the police station. He does some Jared awkward faces and leaves.

The daughter (Stella) was at a party and was arrested for possession. I miss when possession meant demonic possession. Dramatic music plays. She’s there with the Mexican American friend, whose parents arrive and he starts a speech on how they should get to know each other better. It is so not the right context to start making friends. “Epic first meeting” Isabel says. “I’m so sorry, this is so embarrassing” Stella says. “For who?” Walker quips, like a normal person does.

He’s like, let’s go, and the girls hug, which is the only believable expression of affection I’ve seen so far in the episode. Can’t the story be about Stella and Isabel?

Father-daughter conversation in the truck. Apparently we have emotional moments in cars, which we have never seen on television before.

He asks what she was thinking, she’s like, duh what do people use drugs for. She calls him out for disappearing completely. She mentions how it was bad enough that they didn’t have mom. He says “we both got to stop acting like she’s gonna come back and put us right” which makes absolutely zero sense. It’s like someone wrote it on a note for how to develop the characters and they just decided to slap it into the script of the pilot. Remember these people haven’t seen each other for eleven months, he left shortly after his wife died. They didn’t have the time to process the grief together, why is he even saying that line here?

Meanwhile Martinez get home and we meet her boyfriend, a very cute Black man. They’re cute. Why can’t the story be about them?

He asks her about Walker, she says he’s a mess. Oh god. She says he was a Marine, “signed after 9/11”. Holy shit. He’s a Marine who signed up after asdfghjkl can’t you feel the Manly Trauma here????

He’s a Marine who signed up to fight Muslims after 9/11 and now has a dead wife, he’s exactly the kind of male lead character we need right now.

She says she’s trying to figure him out. Her boyfriend is like “dude stop thinking about that guy, he’s not at home trying to figure you out” and she replies “oh I’m pretty sure he thinks he knows everything about me already”.

This is the first scene that hasn’t felt bad so far.

Meanwhile Jared and his brother go to a bar. It’s very ~Texas Aesthetic~, and they’re wearing cowboy hats, of course. You are not allowed to go to a bar without a cowboy hat in Texas. “The brothers Walker” the flannel-shirt-clad bartender says, coming with drinks. Jensen Ackles makes a face somewhere in the mountains.

The brother goes to call his partner and the bartender starts chatting with Walker. She has a conversation with Jared’s awkward faces and she’s like, I guess you left because I couldn’t answer your questions about what happened yo your wife. This is how people converse in real life.

She asks him if he’s alright and he doesn’t answer, instead is like “let’s have a dance”. He doesn’t say he’s fine, but I think it still counts as a I’m Fine Lie Moment #2 because that’s what it is in spirit.

I know you’re bored, I’m bored.

They dance in the Texan bar, I’m distracted by the pool tables and wish this was Supernatural so we’d see Jensen Ackles play pool.

Obviously the dance is interrupted by work - a text from Ramirez who says she’s got something, “office 8am?” so he leaves because he has to wake up early. I’m not kidding.

I was kind of warmed over by Ramirez and her cute boyfriend and by the bar who was kind of nice as a location, when the next scene at the office immediately starts with Ramirez saying “My mom wouldn’t let me play with dolls when I was a kid, so Iearned about cars instead”. I die a little inside. It’s the second time she’s referred to her mother wanting a son...? So she’s badass because she wasn’t raised to be feminine...? Ew.

So they have this lead thanks to her knowledge of cars. They go investigate. I’m bored.

I shouldn’t have said I was bored, because Walker destroys my boredom by having Jared pick up a cross and start talking to “JC” sarcastically asking him for guidance about his kids going to the Catholic school. “Can you stop” Ramirez says, along with all of us.

By the way they’re in a workshop run by an ex-convict who employs former criminals to make figurines (like that cross). I got a bad feeling about this. Former criminal in cop shows is always code for current criminal.

The investigation leads to two guys who work in the store - “oh I know you,” one immediately says when he spots Walker, “you’re the ranger with the dead wife”. Walker is like, what did you say. And the guy is like oh I heard the story of a ranger’s wife biting a bullet near the border, guess you couldn’t protect her uh~~~

They exchange more provocations - Walker calls him some lowlife something and the guy goes to punch him and Walker beats him up. Violently. I’m uncomfortable. We’re supposed to think he’s exaggerating here but... he does get very violent and should not be a cop. Period.

They go to Ramirez’ house because he cut his hand. Her boyfriend is like “baby there’s a dude bleeding on your couch” I want a season of him, exclusively him.

She scolds Walker. Not because he beat up a guy with more force than needed, but because he acted stupid and that’s bad for her career. I’m uncomfortable.

Also, what’s bad is that they’re supposed to work *together*. He says he has his own way of doing things. Yikes yikes yikes.

She says that her theory is that they put them together because he always break the rules. Apparently she read up his cases and he always break the rules. The main character of the show is a cop who break the rules in half the cases he works. Yikes yikes yikes but also did I mention yikes?

No, wait, he acknowledges that he “bends” the rules, like that’s better! Yikes!

More bad dialogue, then Stella’s school calls him. She hasn’t been at school.

He goes to ask Isabel’s mother, who reveals they haven’t their papers yet, so any criminal activity would mean deportation. He talks about it with Ramirez and mentions that his brother who’s a DA could get in contact with the Feds to speed up the papers. Are we supposed to be like “oh what a good guy”? The thing is just creepy to me.

Well, at least Ramirez says something about it, or actually quotes her mother who used to say that the law doesn’t protect us. That’s why she ~burned bridges~ with her family! Apparently because she became a cop.

Ow. Her mother is not speaking to her because for her, her daughter being a cop is like a betrayal. But for her it’s a way to set things right! We’re supposed to think her mother is exaggerated. #notallcops #individualgoodcopscanchangethesystemfromtheinsideforsuredefinitely

Meanwhile their investigation continues. Remember the cross Walker randomly picked up to mock the concept of Jesus? Ramirez stole it. And now they find out there’s heroin in it. Alright... obviously the business that was supposed to rehabilitate former criminals is a cover for cartel drug dealing. What were we expecting. I’m tired.

Ramirez decides to work the case alone and sends Walker to look for his daughter. “I was that kid once, I always wanted to be found”. The impression you get from the scene is that Walker had forgotten about his daughter missing lol. Ramirez insists he goes. I’m uncomfortable with how many times people put on cowboy hats. Someone should count. We’re only 30 minutes in and it feels like it’s happened 80 times.

Alright, a break now! My laptop’s ventilation is running like crazy, VLC and long tumblr drafts are a bad combination. Or maybe it’s just my laptop being allergic to this show.

#cw's jared: legit texan #marghe watches walker for some darned reason

138 notes · View notes

jasontoddsbae · 3 years

Text

Mornings like this

Request for: @redqueenfanfan

Warnings: MORNING SEX. SMUTTT. Unprotected sex

You woke up snuggled up against your boyfriends strong and hairless chest. Who was your boyfriend? Jason Peter Todd. The biggest bad boy in gotham. His name gets around. Men stopped trying to talk and touch you up ever since they knew who your belonged to. You turned your head to peer over your shoulder and check the time on flickering alarm clock (9:23am) and with that you sigh and snuggled yourself back in to your boyfriends tight hold.

Just as you was about to close your sleepy eyes your boyfriend flexes his arms and tightens his grip around you letting out a soft grunt, his eyes squeezing shut until they slowly open. Jason whines at the sunlight that shot right to his eyes as soon as he opens them and you look up at him with a lazy smile.

"Good morning, baby" you cooed. You pressed your soft lips against his hairless skin causing him to smirk.

"Good morning, doll" he replied back in his husky sleep filled voice causing you to bite your lip. Fuck..his morning voice is so hot. "whats the time, babe?" Jason grunts as he tries his best to stretch his legs

"9:26am, handsome" Y/N smiled. She lifted her arm and began tracing her fingers in circles on jasons chest and he leaned over to catch her lips in a loving kiss. Y/N accepted the kiss and smiled as her lips collided with Jasons.

Jason leaned in to Y/N a little more as the kiss began to deepen. He places a hand on her cheek placing his fingers and thumb around her ear. Jason's tongue then bravely traced her bottom lip seeking an entrance and y/n gladly accepted, the kiss causing them to moan in to each others mouths as their tongues battled for dominance.

While they tongued at each others mouth Jason shuffled against the headboard and lifted Y/N and placed her on his strong lap. She then broke the kiss to catch her breath and bit her lip grinning at Jason

"Have I ever told you how much of a good *yawn* kisser you are" she compliments as she stretches and yawns, still a little sleepy from her disturbed sleep.

"Have I ever told you how much kissing you turns me on?" He's sitting there with a shit eating grin on his face. What a brat!

"Oh really?" She replied smugly.

"Yeah baby girl" Jason said with more confidence this time.

"Wanna prove it?" She challenged

Jason wasted no time lightly smacking his lips against her again. Their tongues battling once more. Their moans and mumbles becoming more frequent. Within about 2 minutes of making out Y/N began to feel a prodding against her pussy lips causing her to gasp and then giggle.

"There's a little problem, cowboy" she teased causing her partner to blush deeply. He places his large hands on her hips and she pressed herself against his hardening boxer covered cock.

"Mmm" Jason captured his bottom lip with his teeth muffling his moan while blushing furiously. Y/N pressed her already moist core against him letting out a gasp at how wet she was.

"I think making out with you turns me on too" she giggled and moved her hips against him again and started up a slow rhythm.

"You think? Shit babyy. I can feel your drenched pussy through my underwear" Jason moaned out. He snaked his hands around her hips and places his hands on her ass cheeks, caressing and grabbing them while she grinds against him.

"J-jay" she groans in satisfaction lifting her head back in pleasure as his erection presses against her tip as she moves "jay baby..take these off" she pants lightly

"As you wish" he winks. Both of their faces already flustered. Their lips red and swollen. Y/N quickly shuffles off him and he wastes no time pulling his boxers down and freeing his hard on hearing a light slap against his lower abdomen.

Y/N takes it in her hand and begins slowly pumping his cock to make it harder and it did. She felt it stiffen even more.

"Fuck" Jason moaned "more please, baby" and with that her grip tightened a little more and her pace fastened causing him to part his mouth letting out short and shaky breaths

"Ooohh ok ok..no more. You'll make me cum and I want to make you cum before I do" she removes her hand and gives him a loving smile.

"You're such a gentleman" Y/N teased. Once again she straddled him and teased his penis with her soaked core. She gave him a few loving pecks on the lips as she began raising her hips and jason payed attention to that sign by grabbing his cock and lined it up with her dripping entrance.

He flicked his tip against her a few times, wiping it against her wetness and circled it against her clit.

"Jay..please..no teasing baby" she let out a frustrated moan

"I was gonna tease you like you did to me earlier" once again he aligned his tip with her entrance "but fuck that" and with one snap of his hips he stuffed his cock in her tight heat

"Oooooh!" She practically screamed as his dick immediately rubbed against the spot inside of her

"Shiit. Bounce babyy" Jason moaned. Y/N pressed her her hands against his toned chest and began to slowly move her hips. She created a deep and slow rhythm not having the strength to go any faster as she didn't sleep as much that night before.

She would raise her hips only to slowly drop down at his base bottoming out and moaning his name each time she did.

"Fuuck you feel so good around me, baby. So warm and tight" a long dragged out moaned exited his throat and once again he placed his hands on her hips and dug his nails in to her flesh at the pleasure his was feeling

"Oh my god!" She screamed once more as he began to help her bounce. She picked up the pace with the help of his hands causing her to throw her head back and eyes roll to the back of her head as he hit that spot repetitively.

Jason knitted his eye brows together, his mouth parted with beads of sweat already beginning to drip down his forehead. Y/N faced him with the same expression 'He's fucking gorgeous' She thought

"You want me to fuck you deeper huh? You want me to go faster?" She quickly nodded, biting her lip to try and quieten her loud moans and screams but failed once jason bent his legs a little more and dug his heals in to the mattress. He then started to take over and wasted no time drilling in to her pussy.

Skin Slapping againts each others, panting, their moans, jasons occasion dirty talk, the bed slamming against the wall could be heard throughout their shared apartment. Neither of them cared if they were loud enough for their neighbours to hear.

"Yesyesyesyes! Jason!!" She cried out as his hips non stopped slammed in to her

"You like that, huh? You like your pussy being harshly fucked by me?" He gritted his teeth through the amount of pleasure he was feeling

"Yeeeees jay! Keep fucking me! Make me cuuum!" Y/N cried once more. Jason ground himself against the mattress and began pelting his hips against Y/Ns ass causing the bed the to smack harder againts the wall

"Baby! Oh my fucking god! I'm gonna cum jay!" She collapsed against his chest at the pleasure. Her mouth hung open and eyes rolled to the back of her head once more. Screams couldn't leave her mouth. He was fucking her so hard hardly giving her time to catch her breath

"I can feel you baby. Cum for me" he growled his voice breaking as he was chasing his own end. Y/N then let out a loud and long animalistic noise and her legs began to shake and she began to milk his cock with her juices

"SHIIIIIIIIIIIIT!!! OH FUCK JAY! don't stop! Don't stop! Don't fucking stop!" She begged, her body trembling as she came. Jason fucked her through her orgasm not bothering to slow down. His thrusts began to get sloppy as his own release was near and with one more tight squeeze of Y/Ns pussy it sent him over the edge causing his eyes to roll back and flutter shut.

"Y/n!!! Fuuuck! I'm Cumming!" His hands gripped her hips harder and he was sure that he was going to leave bruises but in this moment..he didn't care. He calmed his thrusts down as his cock pulsed inside of her. All that could be heard but y/ns panting and his heavy breathing.

A few minutes past as they caught their breaths. Both of their eyes were closed. Sleep was already taking over once more. Jason gently slipped out of her causing her to wince. His cum dripping from her pussy and on top his legs

"You did so well, baby" Jason kisses her head and wrapped his arms around her

"So did you" she tiredly grinned at him "You're gonna have to hold me in the shower. I'm fucked out and my legs are already aching" she mumbled.

"After that.. let's get a few more hours of shut eye, yeah? I'll make us breakfast when we wake up"

"That sounds perfect" she smiled sweetly as he shuffled off the bed with her in his arms and made his way to the bathroom

Tags:

@baby-noona

I hope this is ok 😊💖💖

#jason todd #red hood #jason todd smut #red hood smut

167 notes · View notes

katehuntington · 3 years

Text

Title: Ride With Me (part 25) Fandom: Supernatural Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: ±6900 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family. Summary part 25: Y/N and Dean struggle with the aftermath of their split. Working together proves to be difficult, but other relationships within the ranch family took a hit as well. When the cowboy thinks the day can’t get much worse, complications arise, forcing him to make yet another difficult decision. Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak, slowburn. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: (opening scene) The Eye - Brandi Carlile. (Ride with Meadow scene) Home - Hans Zimmer. Follow ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify! Author’s note: Beta’d by my mom (yes, you read that right. My mom reads my stuff and is on Tumblr). Thank you, @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish, @kittenofdoomage, @manawhaat, @waywardbeanie, @atc74, and @winchest09 for helping me with this story. Also a special thanks to @jules-1999, who has offered me her knowledge about rodeo events like these, and @squirrelnotsam, who knows Arizona like the back of her hand.

Ride With Me Masterlist

With frustrated motions, Y/N stuffs her clothes into a bag, not even bothered to sort the items out. Her cheeks are tear-stained once again and she wipes at them angrily. Stop crying, it won’t get you anywhere, she scolds herself, done with feeling this emotional. After all, today is Monday, just another day at the ranch, and they have a lot of work to do. Garth and Ellen did the necessary stable work, but the horses which are usually trained by Jo, Dean, and herself had three days off while their riders were in Flagstaff.

Dean. Just the name reverberating in her head forces her to pause her actions. She dips her chin, closes her eyes, and takes a breath. Why? That’s the question she keeps asking herself. Why did he break up with her? Why did he pretend to care, only to hurt her the way he did? Why has he become so bitter, so selfish, so unlike the man she thought he was?

The questions remain unanswered, and she doesn’t expect they will give her any consolation either. That was the whole issue to begin with, wasn’t it? He can’t be honest. Apparently, he doesn’t think she’s capable of bearing the load he is meant to share with his partner. Apparently, she’s not good enough. Just like she didn’t meet her first boyfriend’s standards, who got tired of her spending more time with her horses than with him. Her second relationship ended in a fiasco as well, this time it was his jealousy of her success that caused the split. Yesterday proved that the third time clearly isn’t a charm. But neither of her previous significant others ever caused a cataclysm as the one Dean has left behind. Her heart is a wasteland now.

“Are you leaving?” She’s pulled away from her thoughts by Jo’s voice, her tone matching the horrified expression on her face. She stands in the doorway, looking down at the open suitcase on the floor and the unzipped bag. All of a sudden, Y/N realizes what the scene must look like. “No. I’m just sorting out my washing,” she says quickly. “Oh…” the blonde cowgirl sighs, relieved. “For a second there I thought--” “I won’t let your scumbag cousin chase me away, Jo,” her friend assures her.

Truth be told, though, she has been thinking about it. Last night she had typed down her information on a booking website, ready to confirm her flight back to Freeport, but as her finger hovered over the ‘confirm’ button, she closed the tab and slammed her laptop closed. The intern came here on a mission. She is going to prove to her parents and to herself that she has what it takes to run her own ranch and that she deserves that business loan. She is not going to abort just because her heart is broken, come hell or high water.

“Well, good. I would have roped you like a cow and tied you to the saddle anyway,” Jo scoffs, leaning against the doorframe.

The cowgirl chuckles as she collects the last of her dirty laundry, zips up the bag, and puts it on the bed. The sight of the not-particularly comfortable mattress has her wishing she could crawl back under the covers and get some much-needed sleep. That’s not an option, however, and so she takes her hat from the corner bedpost and places it on her head. Before she goes out, she quickly checks her makeup in the mirror, but thankfully her tears haven’t smudged her waterproof eyeliner and mascara, and her foundation is still covering the bags under her eyes. It’s been a while since she hid behind the beauty-products, but the confidence Dean gave her has disappeared the second he ended their relationship, so she put her mask back on. There is no way she will give her ex-boyfriend the satisfaction of witnessing just how broken she is.

Y/N inhales deeply and squares her shoulders, lifting her chin as she stares at her reflection. The woman who looks back at her is fierce and resilient; the complete opposite of the little girl that’s hiding inside. Of course, she doesn’t want to face the day nor the man who hurt her, but she is left with no choice. There is so much more at stake here; her future, her career. This is business, and she will treat it as such. Y/N glances at Jo, giving her a nod, and her friend smiles faintly doing the same.

Rubbing his tired eyes, Dean pours himself his third cup of coffee. Saying that he had a rough night, is putting it mildly. The first digit of his alarm clock had already changed into a ‘2’ when he finally drifted off, only to jolt awake an hour and a half later, his bedsheets clinging to his sweat-covered skin. For the first time in years, a nightmare has caused havoc, images of his worst memories coming through cracks in the walls he built around all that childhood trauma. After freshening up, he laid in bed again while last night’s events alternated with those same disturbing scenes he saw in his dreams, the sad motion picture of sorrow and heartbreak projected on the ceiling. He gave up on sleeping around four-thirty in the morning, got dressed, and sat out on the porch until the sun came up. But no matter how hard he focused on the sounds of the night that tried to soothe him, he couldn't get her out of his mind. The pain laced in her desperate voice, the tears that fell because of him. But after those hurtful images, he also remembers that bright smile, her giggles, the sparkle in her eyes when she has achieved something. Her tenderness, her touch… It hasn’t even been twelve hours and he’s already craving Y/N, fighting an addiction for a drug he can never have again. The girl who is no longer his Yankee.

A door squeaks and Dean glances aside, immediately redirecting his gaze back to the coffee mug on the small kitchen counter when Y/N comes into view, followed suit by Jo. Instantly, the tension in the living room shoots through the roof, the crooked, little bunkhouse barely able to maintain the strain. He doesn’t say anything, but thankfully Garth and Benny do exchange a ‘good morning’ with the girls, the silence interrupted by the casual exchange.

He spots her perfectly applied makeup, her hair tied back in a tight ponytail that doesn’t allow a single strand to escape the rubber band. Her shirt is neatly tucked into her jeans, ironed and spotless, just like the day when she arrived at the ranch. Even though she looks breathtaking, the vision saddens him; she’s back to being the woman who needs to have everything under control. He gets it, though, because when she took his advice to loosen up, she let her guard down. If she had kept both hands on the reins, Y/N would have never allowed him to get so close and comfortable. Dean only made things worse for her, and now she was left to pick up the pieces of all that he broke.

Without saying a word, he grabs his coffee and pushes the door handle down to make his exit, not wanting to make her life more difficult than he already has.

Ultimately, this Monday was bound to get worse with every passing minute. Dean decided to get an early start before breakfast and got on the tractor, but when the ranch hand tried to back up in order to drag the arena, he couldn't get the old John Deere into reverse. A glance underneath soon determined why and he exclaimed a loud ‘fuck!’ when he detected the puddle of gearbox-oil on the dusty ground. Turning the fresh horses out only added to his agitation, especially when the youngsters stirred up the palomino stallion Led while the wrangler was hand-walking him. The Quarter is still recovering from the nasty tendon injury he suffered on the job, and isn’t supposed to be bouncing off the concrete like a rubber ball on a leash, but tell that to an energetic horse who has barely been out of his box for the past month. Garth readied a horse for his boss, which he managed to ride before breakfast, but Dean was unfocused and gave up after thirty minutes.

Now, they were all quietly eating their breakfast, the delicious meal giving them some consolation. Ellen observes the awfully silent crew, exchanging a look with her daughter, who with a slow shake of her head tells her mother to not bring it up, and so she doesn’t. The head wrangler is the first to get up from his seat, rinse his plate in the sink, and return to the stables. The others follow his example, the barn soon buzzing with activity.

Y/N works like a dog, mucking out the stable in record time without pausing. It’s a good distraction for her reeling mind, the hard labor ridding her of the frustration that boils her blood whenever she thinks of the man who ruined her faith in true love. Garth, sensing that the intern was fine on her own, took the tough job of raking the arena by hand, since machinery has let them down. Meanwhile, Jo and Dean train the animals as per usual, but there’s no bantering between them during the cool down. In fact, the wrangler’s cousin has decided to ignore him altogether.

Getting more irritated with every second passing, the horseman dismounts the six-year-old gelding named Santana, deciding that a light workout is enough for today. The wrangler is always careful to not let his emotions bleed into his work, but he’s finding it difficult to keep himself in check. Jo has already parked her horse next to the bay Quarter and has tacked down the buckskin without granting Dean a look. He sighs; Jo is not easily going to forgive him for hurting her friend, but he still tries to break the stifling silence.

“Can you pass me the water?” he asks, nodding at the yellow garden hose that’s rolled up by the faucet. Without even granting him a look, the ranch owner’s daughter throws the showerhead in his direction, the nozzle clattering on the tiles in front of Dean’s feet. He sighs, annoyed. “So this is how it’s gonna be?” he scoffs. “I get that you’re mad, but you can at least t--” “I have nothing to say to you,” she snaps.

It’s not the first time Jo is angry with him, because the two have a habit of getting on each other’s nerves. This time it’s different, though, and the bitterness in her tone sends a clear message that he has burned his bridges. Gritting his teeth, he lets the comment slide, deciding that it’s useless to fire back a counter. She has a solid point after all; he doesn’t deserve her sympathy in the slightest. Figuring that these will be the only words they exchange for at least a couple of days, the cowboy begins to hose down Santana, when Jo turns on her heels with her horse’s lead rope in one hand and her fist firmly planted on her waist. “You know what? I do have something to say. You just don’t get to speak in return,” she kicks off, about to unleash her wrath. Dean lifts his gaze from the dirt and sweat that he’s washing out of his horse’s coat, for the first time looking into his cousin’s fiery eyes. The petit cowgirl, who is easily nine inches shorter than the man before her, is intimidating nonetheless. He takes a breath, bracing himself for impact. Here it comes.

“You’re a cold-hearted, spineless, self-absorbed dick, know that? For once in your life, you’ve got something good goin’, someone who was willing to look past your gigantic ego and your daddy issues, yet the first thing you do when life gets tough, is drop her like a hot potato. Do you have any idea how much pain you’ve caused the poor girl? Because I do! She wouldn’t want me to tell you this, but she cried for hours, hours, and that’s on you! Guess who had to comfort her, huh?” Jo goes off. “I am so far past mad; I am furious! I really thought you had finally found a reason to change into something better than the abbreviated piece of nothing that you are now, but it seems like Y/N wasn’t the only one who was naive.” “You done?” the wrangler says coldly when she pauses to catch her breath. “Go hump a cactus, Dean,” she sneers.

With those words, Jo strides away, the large animal next to her obediently following her, well aware that now is not the time to be stubborn. The man who’s left with the poignant insults still echoing inside his head, pulls at his bottom lip with his teeth, staring at his feet for a second before he sniffs and focuses on the task at hand again. He might have pretended that her message left him unbothered, but the opposite is true. Jo could as well slap him across the face; it would hurt less.

Defeated, the wrangler takes Santana to his box and removes the halter from the large animal’s head. The sweet horse seeks contact, nudging her nose against Dean’s shoulder. He rubs the Quarter’s withers before he exits the stable, appreciating the only kindness that he’s received so far this morning.

“Dean?” He tenses, not expecting his name to fall off the lips of the woman who he parted from only yesterday. When the cowboy meets her gaze, the look Y/N gives him is as cold as the tone of her voice. “I need a word,” she says, although it sounds more like a demand. “S - sure,” he stutters, glancing down briefly before he looks back up again, suddenly nervous. He’s not sure if he can handle being scolded by his ex-girlfriend as well. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to work together anymore,” she states formally. “I’d like a new supervisor.”

Dean cocks his head back slightly, unbalanced by the appeal. He rubs his temple, averting his eyes but then nods, acknowledging that she’s probably right, even though the request is a painful one. “Yeah, uh - sure. I’ll ask Garth,” he stammers, estimating that he would be the obvious choice since she’s so close with Jo. He wouldn’t want their friendship to be tainted by the difference in rank. “Okay,” the intern responds, her expression stark and strained, before she walks past him.

Motionless, the head wrangler remains on his spot, setting his jaw and closing his eyes for a second. Somehow, he didn’t expect their first exchange to be strictly business. Her stance is so different from what he’s grown used to. Even on the night they met when she gave him a hard time, the tension between them didn’t feel as heavy as it does now. He realized when he called it quits that she would struggle with his decision, but Jo’s confirmation that she spent most of last night crying over their separation has him desperate to ease the pain.

“Y/N…” he says softly while turning before she’s too far gone to pick up on his voice. “I have work to do,” she cuts off, shooting him a short glare over her shoulder.

Dean swallows thickly while watching her leave, fast and determined strides taking her as far away from him as possible. Damn it, he really did ruin his chances of even maintaining any sort of a friendship, didn’t he? He’s not sure what else he expected after the way they parted, but despite the loathing and vexed look she just shot him that feels like a bullet to the heart, he’s glad. Let her be angry, let her hate him. It will be easier for her to deal with those emotions, than just the overwhelming sense of sadness. He knows, because he hasn’t felt this devastated, empty, and incomplete since his family fell apart; he’s talking from experience. Wishing the day was over already, the cowboy adjusts his hat and gets back to work, hoping that riding will offer him the therapy he so desperately needs.

Unfortunately, the day doesn’t pass by nearly as fast as Dean would like to. After riding five horses, he, Benny, and Garth use their lunch break to look at the beat-up tractor that once again has let them down. The head wrangler doesn’t mind skipping his midday meal; he would rather avoid sitting across from Y/N in a room overflowing with awkwardness, plus, he’s not hungry anyway.

The machine from 1979 was bound to die on the crew sooner than later, but after the farrier slash mechanic discovers metal particles in the gearbox fluid, it becomes clear that a simple oil change isn’t going to cut it this time. “Yep, she’s toast,” Benny sighs, wiping his dirty hands with a cloth. “Just what we need,” his friend grunts. He’s not looking forward to his uncle’s response to the setback. “I’ll tell Bobby.” “I can if you want me to,” the stable boy - who is also responsible for the machinery - offers. Dean purses his lips slightly, his thumbs hooked through the belt loops of his jeans while he stares at the old John Deere absently. “Nah, I’ll do it. I got a question for you, though. Do you mind supervising Y/N from now on?” Garth shakes his head, taking in his boss, somewhat confused. “No, not at all.” “Good,” the wrangler replies quickly, thankful that the slender employee takes on the task without question. The clueless young man didn’t pick up on the relationship between Dean and the intern to begin with, and he would rather keep him in the dark, especially now that it has ended. He knocks on the rusty hood of the tractor before he heads off. “I’ll see y’all in a bit. Can you start rolling out the hay to the pastures with the wheelbarrows? It’s gonna take a hell of a lot longer without this old thing.”

The shade inside the stables is welcoming, and not just because it offers cooler temperatures. Dean’s eyes are still painfully sore from the lack of sleep and he rubs at them again, trying to stop them from burning. Shit, and it’s only Monday, he sighs to himself. The three-day event over the weekend means no time off for the employees who attended. The last time he didn’t have to show up at seven in the morning or earlier was late September, which means that he has been working twelve-hour plus shifts for fourteen days straight now. Work never stops on a ranch. The horses depend on him; they will always need food, a clean stable and exercise, no matter how tired, lovesick, or miserable he is.

The cafeteria is already empty. His aunt is probably at the guesthouses to change the sheets and towels, giving the accommodations a quick once-over. However, he finds a post-it on the long table with his name on it; ‘Don’t forget to eat. Bacon sandwiches are in the fridge - Ellen’. As the cowboy smiles for the first time today, he wonders if Bobby has told his wife anything about John’s unexpected visit in Flagstaff, hoping that he hasn’t. Knowing his aunt, she’s going to sit him down for some sweet tea and a talk, even though previous attempts of having a conversation as such proved to be unsuccessful. He appreciates her concern, though, the idea of his surrogate mom caring about him offering Dean some solace.

The wrangler walks through the high barn doors on the other side, the sun doing its very best to cheer him up, but the rays don’t reach his soul. He makes his way to the Singer’s home, reckoning he will find Bobby there. As per usual, Dean takes off his hat and hangs it on the coat hanger, kicking off his boots before he proceeds to the office in the back of the house. After knocking, he pushes the door ajar, finding his uncle behind his desk. The place is still a mess, but the occupant’s features aren’t draped in shadows like the last time he was here. The blinders are open, the window a passe-partout of the Joshua tree, together with the paddocks and pastures surrounding it.

The rancher looks up when his nephew enters. “Hey, son. How’s the tractor comin’?” “Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it’s fried. The oil is swimming with debris,” Dean tells, taking a seat on the other side of the desk. “Metal?” Bobby questions. When the young man across from him nods, he curses. “Balls!”

Dean presses his lips into a firm line, keeping still in the worn chair to prevent it from squeaking. His uncle seemed to be in a good mood after the successful show, but he can tell that this setback has put a strain on the old man’s frame of mind.

“You’re gonna call the service station?” the head wrangler wonders. “No, that’s gonna cost us. We finally managed to make some money, I ain’t planning on spending it on that damned thing.” The rancher adjusts his ball cap before leaning back in his chair. “You boys can give it a go first, open up that gearbox, see what’s broken. I’ll order parts once you figure out what’s wrong with that piece of shit.”

Scribbling something down on a piece of paper, Bobby sighs, but then returns his focus to Dean. “There’s somethin’ else I need to discuss with you.” His right-hand raises his eyebrows slightly, his interest peaked. “What’s that?” “It’s about Cain,” his uncle murmurs. “Apparently MacLeod didn’t tell the entire story.” Dean scoffs, shaking his head. “Should I be surprised? I’m not sure what kinda vibes you picked up from that shady dude, but I sure as hell don’t trust him for the life of me.” “I don’t either. That’s why I think we should reconsider that deal.” Bobby rests his elbows on the armrests of his chair, forking his fingers together in his lap. He expected some resistance from Dean, but not such a strong reaction as his nephew fires back.

“What?! Are you serious?” he counters, perplexed. “You’re just gonna wipe it off the table?” “Not ‘just’, but we need to consider our options,” his boss returns. “How many options do we have exactly? Because the way I see it, this arrangement is a pretty damn good one. It’s good money, a steady income with the prospect of a huge bonus, not to mention what doors it might open for the future. This horse might be the break we need,” Dean advocates, remembering Y/N’s words clearly when she summed up all the possibilities that Cain might bring with him. “Look, I know Fergus is a proper dick, but he has a reputation to protect. There’s too much at stake for him, and I don’t believe he will double-cross us. If we deliver, he’s gonna pay good bucks.” “And that’s where we might have a problem; actually delivering,” Bobby returns, taking in his head wrangler. Dean draws his head back, slightly hurt, frowning at his uncle’s words. “You don’t think I can get the job done?” “I’m not sure if anyone can, son,” the owner of the Gold Canyon Ranch states calmly. “The horse doesn’t just have ‘some behavioral issues’, as Fergus put it. He’s unapproachable, unpredictable, aggressive. That stallion is dangerous to everyone in a square mile radius. Jody rang me this morning to warn us.” “Jody?” the cowboy returns, puzzled. He’s aware that the female rancher knows a lot of people in this business, but he didn’t expect the news of the famous stallion’s arrival would spread so fast. “How did she even know that Cain was coming to us?” “Because MacLeod is a client of hers. Cain is currently in her stables.”

Dean’s eyebrows hit his hairline, emerald greens staring over the desk at the man on the other side. While gaping at his uncle, questions begin to race through his mind. Jody did business with Fergus? Jody is a good trainer with excellent judgment, so if she claims Cain is untrainable, that says something. Their last conversation in Flagstaff comes to mind, the news about Gabe’s hospitalization shocking him at the time. Could his friend’s injuries be the stallion’s doing?

Bobby watches his trusted worker process the information, rolling his chair a little closer and resting his forearms on the varnished wood, closing his hand over his fist. “I know this complicates things, but I’m gonna leave it up to you. If you think you can handle the stallion, I will trust your judgment. But I don’t want you to risk your neck for the money, Dean. We will find another way.”

The horseman chews on his lip as he ponders, his focus capturing nothing in particular as his eyes flick over the items and documents on the desk. “We’ll have a week to evaluate him. I’ll make the call after that,” he decides. “Mind if I contact Jody to get some insight on what I’m up against?” “Knock yourself out,” Bobby consents. “Just leave the numbers that we agreed to out of it.” “Will do.”

Dean gets up from his seat, pushing the chair closer to the desk before he intends to slip out of the office before he’s stopped by his boss. “One more thing,” the wise man says, looking over his enclosed hands. “What’s going on with you and the intern?”

Caught, the head wrangler freezes, eyes wide with shock and pure horror staring into the hallway. Shit. How the hell is he going to answer that? Is he referring to the dance at the opening night of the horse show or the palpable tension that has surrounded the former couple whenever they were in close range of each other? Dean doesn’t know, but he has the feeling that the continuation of this conversation is going to be anything but pleasant. Composing himself before he turns back to face his uncle.

“Nothin’. What do you mean?” He shrugs as the corners of his mouth draw down, pretending to be careless. “Don’t play dumb, boy. I was born at night, but not last night.” Bobby glares at him knowingly. “Are you messin’ around with her?” “No,” Dean says firmly, the truth in his words hurting him deep down. His uncle lifts his chin, holding the cowboy’s gaze while narrowing his eyes. It’s clear that he’s not buying. “You wanna explain then why you two were like two peas in a pot in Flagstaff, but can’t even look at each other now?”

With his hand still on the door handle, his nephew attempts to keep his act together, but then he sighs. Damn it, he was so close to making it out of this meeting alive. Oh well, what’s one more lecture, right?

“Look, there’s nothing going on, not anymore. I - uh, I got carried away and I shouldn’t have let it,” he admits. “I broke it off. It won’t happen again.” “Is this gonna be a problem?” his boss asks sternly. “If you two can’t work together--” “It isn’t. Garth will supervise her from now on. Just to prevent any issues in the future,” he continues, hoping the fact that they actually discussed how to carry on as colleagues from this point forward will put the concern to rest.

“There better be a future for her here on this ranch. I can’t afford to lose a free worker, especially not one as skilled as she is,” Bobby warns, not convinced. “I’d pray that she won’t pack her bags if I were you, ‘cause I’ll give ya one guess who’s gonna have to work twice as hard and whose ass I’m gonna bust.” “She won’t leave,” his head wrangler guarantees, willing to bet his life on it.

His promise might seem based on a hopeful hunch, but Y/N hasn’t given Dean any indication to question her professionalism. She even approached him in order to change the conditions of her internship, which couldn’t have been easy for her. Their interaction will be minimized and strictly business from now on, something he reckons she will handle much more gracefully than he will, simply because she has a bigger purpose to focus on. This placement is a stepping stone to her dream of owning her own ranch, and that goal hasn’t changed. He knows she won’t leave Gold Canyon.

Bobby observes his nephew, still bothered by the fact that he didn’t listen to him when he specifically told the bachelor not to get involved with the intern. He’s going to save the rant for another time, though, the sight of an already dejected man before him having him hold back. It seems like this is doing a number on young fellow, and considering how they were with each other at the horse show this weekend, he’s not surprised. The two reminded him of his twenties when he first got together with his Ellen. The boy is hurting, more than he lets on. “Alright then. Get goin’, I’ve got bills to pay,” he eventually says, shooing Dean out with a flick of the wrist.

Relieved that his uncle is cutting him some slack, he nods and silently pulls the door shut, putting a barrier between himself and the conversation he has been dreading for weeks. If only he could be able to tell Bobby that he’s with the girl he’s in love with; he would have taken the grumpy rebuke with a grin on his face. If only.

While stepping outside, the cowboy pulls his cellphone from his jeans pocket, looking up Jody Mills’ number in his contacts. He begins to slowly stroll back and forth on the porch in its sheltering shade, the floorboards moaning and cracking under his boots as he waits with his Nokia pressed against his ear. The steady tone beeps twice before his friend picks up. “Hey,” it sounds from the other side of the line. “I was hoping you’d call.” “Yeah, Bobby told me about Cain,” he returns. “Kinda complicates things, don’t it?” “I need to listen to me very carefully,” Jody starts, earnest and worried. “Do not take that horse into your stable.”

The cowboy sighs, glancing over the land while hooking his thumb behind his belt. He figured the female rancher would try to convince him to back off. “It’s good money, Jody, and I’ve handled difficult cases before. Cain deserves a shot. I have to try.” “I get it, but hear me out. If Fergus offered you a deal that seems too good to be true, that’s because it is. I know you’re an excellent trainer, hell, the best that I know. But I’m telling you, we’re not talking about a stallion with some authority issues here. That horse is twisted, has wires crossed. I have never seen such behavior,” she presses. “So many people have tried to straighten him out already. I did some digging, and Fergus’ supposedly ‘million dollar prospect’ has moved in and out nine different stables over the past year. No one has succeeded.”

He ponders, not taking her warning lightly. Jody is an experienced equestrian who has dealt with many tough animals. She even passed some horses on to him when she couldn’t get through to them. The woman is well aware of the limits to her expertise and has always been honest with clients when a horse was too much for her to handle, but never before has she doubted that the wrangler from the Gold Canyon Ranch could do the job.

“When Gabe got hurt, was it…?” Dean wonders, hesitant, not finishing his sentence. “It was Cain.”

He sets his jaw, the muscles flexing under his stubble. Although he assumed it was the stallion who has put his former colleague into the hospital, it still shocks him. He continues to pace the deck in front of the Singer’s home. “How is he doing?” he wonders. Jody pulls in a deep breath, the message she’s about to deliver clearly a difficult one. “He’s never gonna walk again. Paralyzed from the waist down.”

Dean closes his eyes and swallows thickly. It’s the outcome they all feared, but hearing the confirmation makes his gut churn. Losing one's legs is a nightmare for everyone, but for a rider? He can’t possibly picture it, becoming wheelchair-bound. Honestly, he would rather die than to never be able to get in the saddle again.

“Dean, I know you believe every horse deserves a second chance, but please, let this one go. He is beyond repair. I’m not asking, I’m begging,” she pleads, a tremor in her voice. “If you take on Cain, it’s only a matter of time before you get hurt, or worse.”

The words are backed up by a heavy silence. The two stay quiet for a while, the words sinking in with the wrangler. Flight animals fueled by fear can do either two things; run or attack. If getting away from the supposed threat is impossible, they tend to go for the last. It’s not something the horse will even think about; it’s a survival instinct. When a naturally kind creature takes a turn like that, it becomes a thousand-pound killing machine. If Cain is truly that far gone, it is likely that he is indeed beyond saving. The trainer has to see it for himself, though, and not just because the ranch can use the cash. He realizes that if he doesn’t take on this task, someone else will, someone with less experience. If this stallion is really that lethal, the next novice trainer might make an error of judgment that will be his or her last. At least Dean has the skills. It seems like he is Cain’s last resort, because if he isn’t trainable, he will get the bullet at some point. He wouldn’t be the first horse to be put down because of similar problems.

“Thanks for the warning, Jody,” he responds after a long pause. “I’ll keep it in mind.” “Dean--” “I know. I know what you’re gonna say, but if I don’t do this, who knows what might happen to him. I’ve got a week to decide if we wanna go through with it. That’s the least I can do.” He can hear his friend grunt, frustrated, probably realizing that changing his mind was a long shot to begin with. “Just… be careful, okay?” “I will, promise,” Dean assures. “Talk to you later.”

The cowboy hangs up, staring at his phone for a few more seconds before he puts it away and steps out into the sun, heading back to the stables. The admonition continues to ring in his ears, and he allows the caution to imprint the decisions he needs to make in the upcoming days. After all, warned is forearmed.

Y/N wishes anyone had warned her how painful it is to have her heart broken by the person who made it beat just for him. Maybe she would have been more mindful then, more guarded. Maybe she wouldn’t have let him have it, had she known how careless he would be.

Around 5 o’clock, her new supervisor said it was okay if she wanted to take her own horse for a ride. Normally she trains Meadow either before or after shift, but she got all the work done at record speed, desperate for a distraction, that all her daily tasks were fulfilled two hours before dinner. Maybe Garth detected that she needed some alone-time with her four-legged friend, because he suggested the ride with a sympathetic smile and a kind nudge, sending her towards the Quarter’s box.

After straightening out the saddle pad, the cowgirl tightens the cinch. Meadow, who can be a bit of a grumpy mare when it comes to tacking up, stands still without moving a muscle, allowing her owner to ready her for a ride without pulling a prank like she usually does. Sometimes the cheeky horse will try to fish Y/N’s phone from her back pocket, nibble at her hat or her sleeve, or refuse to take a step aside when requested, but not today. Maybe she can sense that such an action could set her human off.

The horse accepts the bit when the cowgirl offers it to her, after which she pulls the headpiece over Meadow’s black-tipped ears, securing the straps skillfully. She sniffles, wiping her nose and forcing herself to keep her composure a little while longer. In a few minutes, when she’s away from prying eyes, she will allow to let the tears flow again, but not now, not yet.

Y/N unties her horse, places her left foot in the stirrup, and swings her right leg over the back of her bay mare, softly landing in the saddle. Picking up the reins, she steers her horse away from the tack up area, the smooth leather between her fingers giving her a sense of control that she’s missing in her love life.

Instead of leading Meadow towards the arena, the rider guides her towards the gate that leads to the trail. Her horse had an eventful weekend and gave it her all in competition, so it wouldn’t be fair to put her through a full workout. The performance took a lot out of the willing horse who never seizes to bring her best efforts and more. Even though the freestyle only lasted minutes, the athlete peaked with a brilliant execution of the routine, which takes a lot of skill and strength. Then there’s the ambiance of a show, the new environment, all the sensory overload. The combination of all those factors did a number the Quarter, and she deserves a calm and relaxing ride, much like the young woman she’s carrying on her back. Y/N is in no state to train, well aware that the heightened emotions will get the best of her if something might not work out the way she planned, and that’s not something she wants her companion to bear the consequences of. If anything, Meadow has been absolutely wonderful, seeming to understand that her person is sad and needs someone to lean on.

After closing the fence behind them, the girl and her horse follow the path that leads towards the hills. Cacti flank the road ahead towards the Superstition Mountains, which stand tall in the backdrop. The beautiful amber colored volcanic rock formations seem even more vibrant now that the setting sun blesses nature with a warm glow. The vegetation is much greener than it was when they searched for the herd of youngsters in the reservoir. Autumn is here, and within a couple of months, the ridges that reach for the sky will be covered in snow. It’s supposed to be a beautiful sight, at least that’s what Dean told her.

Now that it’s just her and Meadow, Y/N finally allows the suppressed tears to fall. The battle she has been fighting all day is one she knew she would lose eventually, she just wanted to be with her most faithful friend when the levee breaks. She doesn’t even intend to wipe the drops of despair away, knowing that she has to let it out now in order to keep up the facade later. And so the last rays of the day catch the shimmering pathways down her cheeks, similar to how the water cobbled at Willow’s Creek, where she and Dean shared their first kiss. All the memories, those perfect little moments that she thought to cherish forever, they are worth nothing now. It was all just a dream.

Y/N transits into a slow canter, hoping that the wind in her face will chase the sorrow away. She has to feel something completely opposite to the grief that is ripping her apart. She needs to experience freedom and the bond that comes along with this unique partnership between her and Meadow, the simplicity of moving across the desert like men and their horses have been doing so for centuries. No engines, no computers, no engineering. Just two souls of completely different species merging as one.

Resting her free hand on her horse’s neck and gripping the black mane, she pushes her heels into the Quarter’s flanks, aiding her to pick up speed. The bay mare takes over, her rider is no longer in control, but she no longer has to be. Y/N doesn’t need to direct this movie, because she trusts Meadow with her life. If there is any being on the face of the planet that she would follow blindly, it’s her companion. Meadow has never let her down, not once, and her owner knows there will never come a moment when she will. And so she breathes in, welcoming the wind to fill her lungs with newfound courage, brought on by the majestic animal that gallops across the landscape, carrying Y/N on her wings.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Read part twenty-six here

#Ride With Me #Dean x Reader #Cowboy!Dean x reader #Cowboy!Dean AU #Dean Winchester series #Cowboy!Dean series #Dean Winchester x Reader #Dean Winchester reader insert #Dean Winchester #Dean Winchester fanfiction #Supernatural AU #SPN #Supernatural #Supernatural series #SPN series #Dean angst #Dean fluff #RWM chapter 25 #Kate Huntington

175 notes · View notes

honey-dewey · 3 years

Text

Rodeo Romeo and Agent Juliet

Pairing: Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels/Kingsman Reader

Word Count: 2,118

Warnings: None

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell

Jack was never a fan of classic literature, but when Agent Juliet comes in from Kingsman for the annual Statesman Holiday Gala and immediately calls him the ‘Rodeo Romeo,’ he may be a little bit, okay a lot, in love with the totally off limits woman. What he doesn’t know is that darling Agent Juliet is just as deep in it for her beautiful Rodeo Romeo. Expect many references to Shakespeare, and I promise no one dies at the end.

Author’s Notes: Based off a wonderful post by @pedrocentric that cursed me into writing 2,000 words in a day. I love you for the stab of inspiration I was given.

The Statesman annual holiday gala was, in Jack’s words, a fancy pain in the ass. It was an excuse to get dressed up and horribly drunk, and while he knew his night would end in some beautiful woman’s bed, he didn’t want to go through the actual gala to get there.

“This is bullshit,” he decided firmly, adjusting his hat and mask. Every year, the gala had a theme, usually pretty vague so people could get creative. This year, the theme was masquerade. Jack, at Ginger’s request, was wearing his usual tuxedo that he wore to every gala, his hat, and a gorgeous black mask with intricate silver details. It was a pain in the ass, but he had to admit, the mask made him look really good.

“I know,” Ginger reassured, tying her own delicate golden mask. “But as two of the more involved agents, we have to attend.”

Jack sighed. “Anyone new attending this year, or will it be a familiar crowd?”

Ginger reached over his chest and readjusted his bow tie. “Kingsman is coming. Eggsy, Harry, and I think they’re bringing a new agent. Agent Juliet? They’re rebranding to have classic literature names instead of Arthurian legend names. Something about inclusivity, I think.”

“Yeah well,” Jack mumbled. “I was never a fan of classic literature.”

They left the room together, ready for the music and the lights of the party. It was a bit more toned down from last year, with quieter music and gentle lights. Plenty of Statesman agents filtered around, along with some of their business partners. Jack did what he always did at these parties. Started his night off with a glass of whiskey and went right into flirting with some pretty thing in a tight rose colored dress.

“Heads up,” Ginger said behind him, sliding up to the bar as Jack’s rosey target walked away. “Kingsman’s here.”

Jack turned, seeing the familiar two Kingsman agents he’d tried to kill. In his defense, he hadn’t been right in the head, and they’d both forgiven him. Apparently holding grudges wasn’t the Kingsman way.

“Whiskey,” Eggsy greeted as he walked up to the bar. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“I could say the same about you,” Jack said smoothly. “Who’s the lady?”

Standing by Eggsy’s side, chatting happily with another woman, was the prettiest lady Jack had ever seen. Delicate features barely hidden behind a midnight blue and silver mask, Jack traced down perfectly shaped lips lined in dusty pink and a beautiful silver necklace that laid across her collarbones perfectly. Her dress was a soft looking midnight blue, all flowing fabrics and cinching at her natural waist with a silver belt. The heart shaped neckline and semi-sheer sleeves lay across her skin in a way that made her look, in a single word, like a goddess.

“This is Agent Juliet,” Eggsy introduced, nudging Juliet forward. “Jules, this is Agent Whiskey.”

Juliet scanned Jack from top to bottom, her brows knitting a bit as she thought.

“Oh!” She finally exclaimed. “Is this the one who couldn’t flirt for shit?”

Immediately, Jack almost choked on his drink while Eggsy laughed out loud. “Yeah!” He said. “Something like that.”

Juliet smiled. “From the looks of it, I’d say he’d a regular rodeo Romeo.”

Just like that, Jack was deeply in love with her. The way the corner of her mouth quirked as she gave him the nickname, the way her hands clasped in front of her, the look she gave him. It was enough to ruin the newly christened Rodeo Romeo.

“Jules?” An unfamiliar man came up, sliding a hand around Juliet’s waist. “Who’s this?”

Juliet sighed, a deep and unsatisfied sigh as she shifted the man’s hand off her hip. “Darling, this is Agent Whiskey. Agent, this is my boyfriend, Agent Paris.”

And with one word, she had broken his heart. Jack drew a breath in, an action that went entirely unnoticed by everyone but Ginger. She put a comforting hand on his arm. “It’s wonderful to meet you Agent Paris. Jack and I are going to see if we can’t find Champ, I’m sure you’ll want to meet him.”

Jack nodded halfheartedly as she pulled him off. Suddenly, he wasn’t very happy about meeting the new agents.

———

You sighed, watching Agent Whiskey get dragged away. He seemed so nice, and his brilliant brown eyes were so deep, you could’ve easily gotten lost in them all night. Instead, your boyfriend had to walk up, ruining the moment.

“Babe,” he said, kissing your neck, much to your disgust. “Want to dance?”

“No thanks,” you said sourly, hoping he understood your tone as you walked away, heading towards the bathrooms.

Sliding down the wall, you sighed, adjusting your shoes so they weren’t so tight, and finally abandoning them altogether.

“Knock knock,” a familiar voice said, knocking on the bathroom door. “Can I come in?”

Unlocking the door and allowing Eggsy to slide in, you smiled, seeing him holding two drinks. Accepting one and immediately swallowing down the soda sweetened liquid, you collapsed back against the wall. “Fuck me Eggsy, I hate him.”

“So break up with him,” Eggsy said plainly, joining you on the floor. “You’re an adult. Tell him he sucks complete ass and run right into the strong and manly arms of your cowboy Romeo.”

You punched his arm playfully. “Firstly,” you said. “It’s rodeo Romeo. And secondly, I am not in love with Agent Whiskey.”

Eggsy raised an eyebrow at you. “Yes. You are.”

“Am not.”

“Are to.”

You burst into laughter. “We sound like children,” you realized. “What was in that drink?”

“A bit of whiskey, some coke, a few ice cubes,” Eggsy recited. “Now go get your man.”

Rolling your eyes, you stood and smiled. “Maybe I will.”

You headed off to the balcony, intent on clearing your head. It was barren, the cold weather deterring most from braving the outside. You sighed, leaning against the railing and looking out at Statesman’s garden. It was beautifully kept, with fields of trees you assumed grew fruit in the warmer months.

A rustling broke you out of your thoughts. Looking down, you saw Jack wandering the gardens, his mask still on. He looked up, seeing you and smiling. “Ain’t this like, a big part of your story?” He asked.

You nodded. “Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?” You said, leaning over so you could see Jack better. “She’s wondering why he has his name, because that is the only thing preventing their relationship.”

“Yeah I was never into Shakespeare.”

You gasped. “Really? Romeo and Juliet is an undeniable classic! Hold on, I’m coming down, and when I do, you are in for one hell of a literature lesson.”

Hurrying down the stairs and into the gardens, you met Jack under the balcony. “I cannot believe you’ve never read Romeo and Juliet,” you grumbled to yourself.

“I never said that,” Jack said. “I’ve read it.”

You smiled, following his aimlessly wandering feet. “It was Shakespear’s greatest comedy, a work of absolute genius.”

“Back up,” Jack interrupted. “Comedy?”

“Yeah, comedy,” you said. “Shakespeare was incredibly, well, I don’t want to say he was anti-love, but he wrote Romeo and Juliet to poke fun at couples who said they were soulmates. After all, Romeo and Juliet spanned about three days time from start to finish.”

You continued to go into detail about the intricacies of Shakespeare, wasting away a good portion of the night. Jack was an excellent listener, occasionally asking a question that sent you on a tangent, but always quiet and respectful while you talked.

Finally, when the clock tolled twelve, you two headed back to the gala.

“It was nice getting to know you,” you said softly, not wanting to enter the building again. “Agent Paris is kind of a jerk about me talking to other men.”

“Oh my god, is there any redeeming thing about him?” Jack asked.

“Not that I can tell.”

Jack took your hands. “So break up with him. Find a man who’ll treat you right.”

You stared deep into his eyes, into the depth and complexities he kept hidden behind a deceptively simple brown color. “A man like you?”

Jack didn’t respond. Instead, he cupped your cheek and kissed you, molding his face to yours and satisfying that craving that had building in you since Paris.

“Jules?”

Jack broke away, sliding out of sight so quickly you had to wonder if you’d only imagined him. Eggsy came up to you, confused and a bit concerned. “Jules? Are you okay?”

You nodded slowly. “Yeah. Never better.”

That night, you tossed and turned, unable to sleep. The ghost of Jack’s lips kept waking you, until you were forced to pull a robe on and open your balcony so you could get some fresh air and hopefully clear your head.

Settling on the stone and leaning your forehead against the railing, you stared out into the Statesman stables. “Romeo, Romeo,” you said, mostly to yourself as a comfort. “Wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name. Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I'll no longer be a Capulet.” You had memorized large portions of the story in order to keep yourself calm during Kingsman training, and even now, the familiar passage eased your troubles.

At least, until someone responded.

“I take thee at thy word. Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized. Henceforth I never will be Romeo.”

You stood, looking out at the stables. Standing there, lit by the light of his phone, was Jack.

“Are you reading that off your phone?” You asked, a laugh bubbling in your throat.

“You’re getting the lines wrong!” Jack called back, coming closer so you could hear him properly.

Laughing, you leaned against the railing and stared at Jack. “You kissed me earlier.”

“You’re still getting the lines wrong.”

“Jack!” You said happily, unable to not laugh. “I’m serious!”

Jack’s grin was obvious even from your distance. “I did kiss you earlier. Are you mad about it?”

“No.”

“So shall we make love like your namesake?” He asked. “Run away and get married after having known each other, what, a few hours?”

You shook your head. “No. Because then we’d both have to die.”

Stepping closer, Jack shrugged. “Yeah, that would throw a wrench in my plans to woo and marry you.”

You yawned, and Jack smiled. “Does the lady need her beauty sleep?”

You gave him a very ladylike middle finger. “Goodnight Romeo.”

“Goodnight my fair Juliet.”

The next morning, you went out for a walk with Eggsy and Paris, walking by the stables and admiring the horses.

“Juliet!”

You turned, seeing Jack atop a beautiful black horse. He rode with ease, as if he’d been doing it all his life. “Fancy seein’ you here,” he said. “Y’all sticking around?”

Eggsy shrugged. “Jules wanted to stay for a bit. Airplanes make her wonky, so we’re leaving later tonight.”

Jack’s face visibly fell. “Aw damn. I liked having a beauty like you walkin’ around.”!

“Leave off,” Paris said, wrapping you in his arms. “She’s taken.”

“Might wanna reconsider that one,” Jack said with a wink. “What’d’ya say Juliet? Wanna take a ride with your Rodeo Romeo? Saddle’s got room for two.”

You didn’t even hesitate. Squirming out of Paris’s grip, you eagerly jumped the fence and joined Jack. “Just as long as we don’t die at the end.”

Jack helped you up in the saddle, kissing you long and hard. “Well, like I said, I’m not one for the original story anyway.”

He rode off with you, leaving Paris and Eggsy behind. Holding you tight as he jumped a fence, he continued out, beyond the orchards and the buildings, until you two had reached a small, run down church.

After helping you off the horse, Jack pulled you inside, where there was light and warmth.

“You’re really not helping our horribly cliche love story,” you said.

Jack raised an eyebrow, pulling you down onto a couch and wrapping you in his arms. “Am I? It’s been such a long time since I read Romeo and Juliet.”

You laughed. “Clearly. Although this is very close to the part where they both die.”

“And we definitely aren’t doing that, right?”

You nodded. “Definitely not.”

Jack looked around. “One day,” he said decisively. “I’m going to marry you. Right here, in this church. I promise.”

Smiling, you pressed a kiss to his nose. “Sure you will Romeo.”

Three years later, he asked you to marry him.

You, as if it were any question at all, said yes.

After all, how could you say no to your Romeo?

#kingsman the golden circle #kingsman #agent whiskey #jack 'whiskey' daniels #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #Pedro Pascal #My writing

77 notes · View notes

obeyme-drabbles · 4 years

Note

Hiiiiiii all the best with your blog ❤️ is it okay if I request jealousy headcannons for all the brothers.? Like MC is busy with the tasks, or occupied with a pet or anything haha. Thanks 🥰

Lucifer

Alright let’s be frank, his pride refuses to let him believe that any other being could compare to him when it comes to you, so he never exactly pinpoints any of his feelings as jealousy, so in terms of getting jealous over you spending times on tasks or pets he can’t do that without being a major hypocrite, but other people is where inklings of the feelings come about

Even if he did he would refuse to acknowledge that he became jealous in the first place

He unconsciously becomes a little more possessive and protective of you, pulls you a bit closer, gifts you with items that are similar to the things he wears, anything to subtly emphasize that you’re his partner

After a while of being in a relationship with him you’ll likely notice the small signs of his jealousy and just do him a favor and indulge him

Even better make him that coffee that becomes particularly bitter when made for someone you care for, dissipates all underlying feelings of jealousy and creates a very soft boy out of Lucifer

Mammon

The most blatant and obvious about his jealousy especially with his loud and constant insistence that he’s not jealous despite no one even remotely accusing him of being so

His jealousy is abundant and makes him remain very close to you regardless of what he’s jealous of

He’ll always be in someway holding you and insist that it’s for your protection and that Lucifer will kill him if he lets anything happen to you so yes, it is completely necessary that he has an arm wrapped around your waist or that he’s holding your hand, yes, he knows you two are alone in a room together with no real threat of danger just let him hold and protect you

Busy with tasks? Well now your doing your tasks in his lap because that is certainly more comfortable

Playing with a new pet? He’s going to hold one of your hands

He worries that you’ll eventually believe everything that his brothers and everyone else says about him and leave him for someone better

You’ll know when he’s jealous the second he feels it so please just tell him that you’d never leave your first man

Leviathan

Certainly a jealous boy, but unlike most of his brothers not a possessive jealous boy, at least not until a certain point

When he gets jealous he starts to sulk, he plays less online games and more single player games, he wants to shut himself in fully

He’s not one to get super jealous if you’re spending a lot of time on your work but will certainly mention ditching your work at least a couple times

A new pet or another person however, especially one of his brothers, his jealousy is skyrocketing

Of course you’d rather spend time with an animal, or another person, or his brother over him

If you do have a new pet that he’s jealous of, please name them Shadow and insist on them meeting Henry 2.0, so they can be like you and Levi, you’ll stop his jealousy in its tracks and he will combust

If he’s jealous of someone else, again using references to the media he’s into is a really good way to get him to let you in his room so you can properly tackle his jealousy, if he tells you to leave, insist that Henry would never abandon the Lord of Shadow like that and neither will you

Satan

If you want a jealous Satan, there are two things I’d like to say to you, you are insane and good luck

It is very difficult to get him jealous because there is only a few things that will get him there

New pet? He’s somehow ended up playing with them more than you

Tasks? That’s understandable, if other people are bothering you while you’re trying to work, his room is open and it’ll be plenty quiet

Oh, you can’t go on a date with him because you made plans to do something? With Lucifer? Alone? Well then, his smile doesn’t reaches his eyes

He’s had a lot of practice pushing down his rage and hiding it, he’ll easily do the same with jealousy

When you come back, he’ll ask how everything was and it’s at this point you have two options

If you want to try and dispel the jealousy, say however you think went, but add on that you missed him or that you still wish you could have went on the date he suggested, that smile that used to not reach his eyes does now because he’s genuinely smiling and he’s happy

If you want to amp up the jealousy talk about how lovely your outing with Lucifer was, and really emphasize how lovely Lucifer was and don’t shut up, until he makes you shut up don’t worry he’ll have wisened up to what you’re doing quickly

Asmodeus

Another one to not really realize that he is jealous, still he is pretty often regardless if he realizes or not, but why should he be jealous when he is literally the most beautiful and amazing creature in all 3 realms?

Well his charm doesn’t work on you so it surprisingly or unsurprisingly results in a slight sense of insecurity, he doesn’t have that to be certain that you at least want him like everyone else but it also means that when you do show your love for him he also knows that it’s genuine and that is the most special thing to him

He desires your attention all the time

Working on school work and tasks? Your gonna hurt back bent over like that, but if you insist at least be bent over your desk in a fun way with him

Paying attention to a new pet? Why don’t you two go shopping for outfits for them (doesn’t matter what kind of pet Asmo will find an adorable outfit for your pet)

If he does become jealous of you being around another person a lot he also becomes subtly possessive

Always nearby whenever possible, he’ll insist on a lot more spa days and buying you new outfits to make sure that everyone knows you’re so amazing and 100% out of their league

Beelzebub

Easily the least jealous out of all his brothers, in fact you’re pretty certain jealousy just isn’t really apart of his nature

If you’re busy with tasks he’ll just make sure you’re taking breaks so that your muscles won’t get stiff and that you’re eating properly

If you have a new pet, well he’ll be playing with them too, you two had a little dog before

If you’re hanging around other people a lot, well he’s glad that you have friends

He just trusts you so much by this point after everything you’ve done for him and his family that he finds it difficult to ever feel any jealousy bubbling up

Belphegor

When he’s jealous he becomes even more of a brat, he’s always a bit snarky and sarcastic but jealousy makes it a lot more prevalent

He doesn’t get why you’re so worried about your tasks or a new pet when your boyfriend can’t sleep because he doesn’t have his favorite pillow, aka you

He just sleepily glares at whatever is taking your attention away, commenting that you should take a break from the source of his jealousy

After a while he will just start to lay on top of you, like it seems like a normal hug but then his weight keeps pushing down on you and no matter what you can’t push him off you

If he becomes jealous of a person, he gains little more motivation to go to RAD with you, doesn’t mean he won’t still try to have you take naps with him all day

He also becomes really snarky of the other person consistently sassing them out when he knows you can hear him

Please just take a nap with the cowboy and snuggle nice and close

#obey me!#obey me imagines #obey me swd #OBEY ME #obey me shall we date #obey me drabbles #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #Obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor

535 notes · View notes

bluenet13 · 3 years

Photo

What's Really Keeping You Awake?

Written for @badthingshappenbingo

Fandom: 9-1-1: Lone Star

Characters: T.K. Strand, Carlos Reyes, Nancy Gillian, firefam (mentioned).

Prompt: Arm in a Sling

Summary: When T.K. gets hurt at work he tries to hide the injury from Carlos. But he should have known his boyfriend is always one step ahead.

Links: ff.net - AO3

T.K's fingers tapped impatiently against his thigh as he waited for his call to get picked up.

"Hi, babe, everything okay?" Came Carlos' eventual greeting.

"Hi, yeah, everything's alright. Just wanted to let you know that I won't be going home tonight after shift. Going with Owen instead," T.K. said, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Why?" Carlos asked suspiciously. "Is he okay?"

"Nothing special, no issues with his recovery. Dad's just been feeling it since mom left and then we moved in together," T.K. explained.

"Isn't that why Mateo moved in?" Carlos wondered, "I mean, the guy needed a place to live, I get it. But we both know Captain Strand wasn't the obvious choice."

"Yeah," T.K. said, not able to argue that fact. "But Mateo is staying with Paul for the weekend so I just want to keep my dad company."

"Hmm." Carlos audibly sighed. "Are you sure nothing happened?"

"Yes, of course," T.K. said, forcing his voice to stay calm and collected.

"Are you in the hospital?" Carlos blurted out.

"What? No!" T.K's responded, letting out a nervous exhale.

"Tyler," Carlos said in his best threatening tone.

"I promise, I'm not in the hospital," T.K. assured, pursing his lips.

"Are you in an ambulance?" Carlos asked next, wanting to cover all bases.

"I work in an ambulance," T.K. said simply.

"You know what I meant," Carlos grumbled.

"Stop worrying, Carlos. Everything's okay. Just trying to be a good son," T.K half-lied, chuckling to himself as he silently wondered what it said about him that in this situation Carlos' first thought was that he was trying to hide an injury, unlike most others who would have thought he was having an affair.

"Okay, I will see you this weekend then?" Carlos relented, but his tone letting on that he wasn't happy.

"Yeah, I will call you tonight. Love you, baby," T.K. promised, then ended the call, again, just a little too quickly.

Putting his phone back in his pocket, T.K. sighed and turned back to Nancy. "Sorry, you can keep going."

"Carlos is going to kill you when he finds out," Nancy offered helpfully, "but lucky for you, I don't think anything is broken so you won't have to go to the hospital. At least, you weren't lying about that."

"Yeah, lucky me." T.K. rolled his eyes, doing his best to suppress a grunt as Nancy prodded the area around his shoulder.

"But, on second thought... I have to pop it back in, maybe you want to go to the hospital for that?" Nancy questioned, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"You are enjoying this, aren't you?" T.K. asked with a groan.

"Maybe, a little. Not the injury, tho. I'm sorry the patient knocked you off the ladder," Nancy said sincerely, "but I'll enjoy hearing of Carlos' reaction when he finds out," she added with a grin.

"Well, too bad he won't find out," T.K. challenged, "or I'll tell Tommy that you broke her favorite coffee mug. You know, the super cute, purple one her girls got her for mother's day?" His familiar smug smirk now plastered on T.K's face.

Nancy grunted but said nothing, knowing she was beat. "Ready?" She asked instead, knowing there was no way T.K. was voluntarily going to a hospital for a dislocated shoulder.

Suddenly reminded why he was sitting at the back of their ambulance, T.K. instantly lost his smile and blanched a little. Because no matter how many injuries someone has had, popping in a dislocated anything always hurt like a bitch, especially when you couldn't take any painkillers. But still, he nodded, closing his fist around his shirt and bracing for the pain.

"I'll be quick," Nancy whispered and without warning moved her hands to either side of T.K's shoulder and yanked.

"Son of a…" T.K's yelped, his words cut short by a loud pop as his joint set back into place.

"Sorry, Strand," Nancy said, a guilty smile replacing her previous grin. "I know you won't take anything strong, but can I give you some Ibuprofen?"

T.K. just shook his head, his mouth set in a straight line as he tried to breathe through the pain.

"You're going to be sore," Nancy pushed, gazing down at T.K. with a knowing look as she maneuvered his shoulder into a sling.

"I've OTC painkillers at home, I promise I'll take some if the pain gets too bad," T.K. lied, grunting as the movement jostled his injured joint.

"You mean at Owen's house, right?" Nancy asked (not so) innocently.

"You can really be mean sometimes." T.K. pouted, trying to bite down a grin.

"You just make it too easy. But really, I know you won't take anything, so at least ice your shoulder when you get home and remember to sleep on your other side," Nancy directed, wishing she could offer her partner some relief from the pain but knowing that with T.K's history that simply wasn't an option.

"I'll be okay, Nance. Thank you for taking care of it, I'll be careful," T.K promised, then rolled his neck as he got accustomed to the feel of the sling around his arm.

"And no nighttime activities for you," Nancy said softly, looking at T.K. with a knowing smile, "but on second thought, I don't think that will be a problem now." Her grin turning into full-blown laughter.

"You only say that cause you're jealous," T.K. said, sticking his tongue out. Then jumped out of the ambulance, smiling to himself as Nancy made a face and tossed a roll of gauze at him.

As Nancy finished organizing everything in the back, T.K. sat down on the ambo's bumper and sighed, wishing he could go home to cuddle with Carlos instead of to an empty apartment. But he was tired of the trouble magnet jokes and Carlos saying he was taking years off his life, and this was too simple an injury to worry his boyfriend over. So, he would just have to suck it up.

A few minutes passed with the partners just chatting about everything and nothing as they waited for Tommy to get back after dropping their patient at the hospital.

"You okay, Strand?" Was Tommy's first question as soon as she returned to the ER's parking lot.

"I am, Nancy checked it out and we're ready to go," T.K. said and raised to his feet, trying very hard not to cry out when the movement jerked his shoulder.

"Are you sure you don't need to be looked at?" Tommy was still staring at T.K with a worried expression, even when the question was directed to his partner.

"He will be okay," Nancy explained, "nothing got broken and the joint should heal nicely after a few days of rest. Plus, T.K. is not a liar and he absolutely wasn't at the hospital today," she couldn't help add, the corner of her lip tucking upward.

"Do I even want to know?" Tommy asked no one in particular, shooting a curious look to her two, young coworkers.

"Probably not. Let's go," Nancy said with a chuckle, getting into the back of the ambulance and sitting on the bench. "You can sit at the front, Strand. Just don't go getting used to it," she added as a way of response to T.K's raised eyebrows and silent question.

"Thanks, partner," T.K acknowledged, happy with the sort of truce that he had reached with his new partner, and even more with the way that agreement was slowly evolving into a real friendship.

The ride back to the firehouse was spent in comfortable silence, all three paramedics lost in between their thoughts and the low music coming from the speakers. Tommy did her best to avoid any cracks in the pavement but still shot sympathetic glances T.K's way every time he grunted or winced.

Reaching the firehouse, T.K's ignored everyone's concerned stares and just walked quickly to the locker room. Knowing with the sling taking off his shirt would be a pain, he decided to just leave on his uniform and wait until he was home. He would want to shower and better to go through the hassle just one time.

After promising all his teammates that yes, he was okay, and yes, he would call if he needed help, and no, he didn't need a ride (especially when he was planning to go to Owen's and not Carlos'), T.K. was finally able to escape all the mother henning and quietly get into his Uber.

Going up the stairs and inside Owen's apartment was more difficult that it should have been, with T.K. dropping the keys as he tried to open the door with his non-dominant hand and as he continued to fumble with the strap of his duffel bag, which kept rolling down his shoulder. The ordeal left him winded, and with a very big desire to just face plant on the couch and sleep for the next many hours. But he had worked more than half a shift before he got hurt so he was in desperate need of a shower.

So, T.K. just dropped his keys, wallet and phone on the kitchen counter and walked to the guest room, his face losing all color as soon as his eyes landed on the figure sitting on the bed.

"Hi baby," Carlos said cheerfully, even as his eyes narrowed and his lips turned upward into an innocent smile.

Letting his bag fall to the floor with a thud, T.K. had the sudden urge to turn around and run, instead he tried to give Carlos his best apologetic grin as he looked straight into his boyfriend's eyes.

"Want a chance to explain before I start asking questions?" Carlos said, making T.K. wonder if that's how he started interrogations with the people he arrested.

"What are you doing here?" T.K. asked, ignoring Carlos' question and trying very hard not to squirm under his boyfriend's gaze.

"I asked first," Carlos said matter-of-factly.

"Long, boring story I'm sure you don't want to hear," T.K. mumbled, hoping against hope that Carlos would just let it go for now. Then he tip-toed towards Carlos and tried to wrap his arms around his boyfriend, but Carlos just jumped out of the bed and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Whoa there, cowboy. Slow your roll cause you're not getting out of this so easily," Carlos quipped, a scowl now adorning his features too.

"What do you want me to say, Carlos? I got hurt at work." T.K. awkwardly raised his injured arm, trying to emphasize his point, before he dropped both shoulders dejectedly, and turned his eyes to stare at the ground.

"I think that part is obvious," Carlos simply stated, "but I'm more interested in the part where you thought it was a good idea to lie to me and hide the injury."

"I didn't lie, everything I said was technically true," T.K. tried, letting out a nervous chuckle.

"In this case, omitting the truth is the same as lying."

"I'm sorry, Carlos. I just didn't want to frighten you again. I mean, come on, we haven't even been really dating a full year and I've already been shot, kidnapped and knocked unconscious with a concussion. I know you all joke that I'm a trouble magnet, but I also know you worry. And you have enough worries at work to also lose sleep over me," T.K. rambled as he paced around the room, "besides, I don't want you realizing that I'm just too much for you," he finished barely above a whisper, sad eyes moving to Carlos' again.

Carlos remained silent for a few minutes after that, seemingly mulling over T.K's words, before his arms uncrossed and he moved towards his boyfriend, engulfing him in a quick hug before he stepped out of his space again.

"First, I'm a cop, babe, do you really think a dislocated shoulder will really scare me? You know I've seen it all, and yes, it's worse when things happen to you, but I know it's the nature of both our jobs."

"I'm sorry," T.K. whispered, cutting Carlos off and taking a tentative step forward.

"Wait, let me finish," Carlos said, raising his hands to stall T.K's movements. "I won't get mad if you get injured, but I don't like you lying to me. Or emitting truths," he amended before T.K. tried to find another loophole, because sometimes his boyfriend really took to his mother. "You once said we made a pretty good team. And you were right, and we have only gotten better with time."

"In more ways that one…" T.K. said smugly, his eyes going to Carlos' lips, and then further down.

Carlos let out an outward moan, even if he would argue it was more like an annoyed groan, as his lips parted on their own volition and he ended up having to bite down on his lower lip as he tried not to give into T.K's charm.

"Yeah," Carlos easily agreed, his deep voice sounding even huskier. "But don't go trying to distract me, you're not out of the doghouse yet. So as I was saying, I don't care about a dislocated shoulder, but…"

"Wait, how do you know about the shoulder?" T.K asked, "and how are you even here?"

"Will you stop interrupting me?" Carlos said, sounding mildly exasperated, "I called Mateo. I knew you were hiding something, and I know Marjan, Paul and Judd would have been more difficult to deal with. Mateo might be a damn good firefighter but that boy can't lie to save his life. He told me what happened, then I called Captain Stra- Owen, and turns out he thought I was working a shift tonight so that's why you were coming here."

"What have we talked about interrogating my team, Officer Reyes?" T.K. wondered out loud, wishing his boyfriend wasn't so good at his job.

"Well, I wouldn't have to if you gave me another choice," Carlos challenged, eyebrows raised. "But again, as I was saying, we're a team T.K. and I can take anything you, or life, throw our way. You might be high maintenance but you'll never be too much for me," he added, a teasing smile now gracing his lips, easing the harshness that had taken over his features.

"I'm high maintenance? I'm not the one that only eats homemade tortillas, can't get veggies that are not from the farmer's market and forces me to get up at dinner and get the salt because God forbids you handle it to me and doom our relationship forever," T.K. mumbled under his breath, the twinkle in his eye showing that his words carried no heat.

"It's not my fault that Latinos have many superstitions. Or that I need to do so much stress cooking because my stubborn and daredevil boyfriend keeps getting in trouble. Which brings me to my last point, I do lose sleep over you, T.K," Carlos began, stepping towards him and moving his hands under his shirt. "But not because I worry about you. I do, always will. But when I go to sleep, with your body next to mine, I tend to have other things in mind." Pushing, T.K. all the way back until he fell onto the bed, Carlos let his lips hover just above T.K's for a moment before he leaned forward, crashing his already parted lips into T.K's waiting ones.

The moment quickly became more heated as they deepened the once sweet kiss, both their hands now exploring every reachable part of their boyfriend's body. That is, until Carlos let too much of his weight fall onto T.K, making the man gasp and groan as his shoulder took the brunt of it.

"Too bad you're injured and I can't show you the type of things I think about," Carlos croaked, pressing a kiss just on the edge of T.K's lips, before he pushed his body away from the bed, and out of his boyfriend's reach.

"Oh come on, babe. You can tease like that and just leave me hanging," T.K. breathed out, trying to grab Carlos's shirt, but his fingers only brushing a bit of exposed skin along his hip.

"Don't pout, babe. It's not a good look on you. Plus you'll get wrinkles and I happen to love your smooth skin," Carlos said, trying to ignore the electricity coursing through his body starting from the spot T.K's fingers had touched.

Not missing the way Carlos' body just quivered, T.K looked at his boyfriend with his perfected shit-eating grin, his eyes practically undressing the other man, just as his boyfriend silently did the same.

"Lucky for you, I have other ideas to show you how being with you could never be too much. In fact, every moment we spend together is just never enough," Carlos said sweetly, like usual being the first to give in. Extending his arm to his boyfriend, Carlos pointed to the bathroom with his chin as his free hand was already removing T.K's belt and unbuttoning his pants.

"I like the sound of that," T.K. rasped out, barely able to form words. He then took Carlos' hand, letting his boyfriend pull him towards him, as his free arm reciprocated, briskly and awkwardly loosening Carlos' sweatpants, and pulling at the hem of his shirt.

"Good. The hot water will be good for your shoulder. Plus, you're still in uniform, I can only assume you didn't shower at the station. It's only natural that we do that before I get you into bed," Carlos explained simply, "so you can rest your shoulder, that is," he added, but his darkened eyes showed that right now taking care of T.K's injury was the last thing on his mind.

Brain short-circuiting, T.K. only nodded as he let Carlos remove the sling on his arm and the rest of the clothing that still got in between their desires, before he let his boyfriend lead him into the bathroom.

Later on there would be time for T.K. to continue apologizing and explain more about how he got hurt, for Carlos to take care of his shoulder and comfort his boyfriend, and for both of them to further promise that they were it for each other, that they were both in it for the long run and there was never a need to hide things because they would always be a team. But for now, all thoughts of T.K's injury and small lie were out of their minds, and Carlos and T.K. just relished the presence of the other, the feel of their bodies pressed together, as they let the steam of the shower dissolve their insecurities and fears, and just got lost in each other.

"Wait, what if my dad comes home?"

"Too bad you will have a lot of explaining to do. There's a reason I asked you to move in with me," Carlos said, finally getting his chance to be the smug one.

And whatever was said next was lost to the outside world, as the door to the bathroom slammed shut, and only T.K's groan and Carlos' laughter could be heard over the splash of the shower.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fanfiction #tk strand #carlos reyes #tarlos #bad things happen bingo #idiots in love #tarlos fanfic

46 notes · View notes