#back in the saddle and ready to ride!

[wingedjellyfishflight]

Harem in Reverse

"You're soon to be 26, Your Royal Highness. You must put together your harem soon or risk being married off to whomever the regent chooses for you." You sigh, nodding in agreement. Choosing a direct husband would be against the rules, and frankly, you weren't interested in interviewing for the perfect man. Choosing many for their adherence to various qualities, though. That would be a good choice. "Shall I put forth a call for certain attributes? Strong arms? Large chest? Impressive intellect?"

"No, I want to review the troops this week. I will find my consorts among the best our nation has to offer." The advisor looks stunned.

"Your Royal Highness, those are rough men. They do not have the breeding or training to handle you gently as a consort should. They are-."

"Advisor Williams, I know what attributes I am looking for. Schedule me to review the best of the troops, then. If none catch my eye, then I will consider others." The advisor nods, frustrated at not being heeded, but knowing they must follow a direct order.

The following week, you are almost nervous while getting ready, the beginning of butterflies in your stomach. If you weren't so tired, you're sure it would be worse, but the night before was yet another attempt on your life. They are becoming more frequent and more violent now.

Sighing, you hurry to the courtyard where your mount, Rosebud, is waiting. A gift that you feel had been meant to be another threat on your life. The mount was no ordinary horse or pony. Instead, it was the largest draft mule you had ever seen. If you had treated him like a horse, you're sure the thing would have stomped within minutes. He was a vain creature who had to be sweet-talked and treated with utmost respect before he would agree to do much of anything. He was covered in whip and spur scars, telling anyone that he was difficult to force submission from, despite their best efforts. Not that you thought anyone could force an animal born of a mammoth jack donkey and a Shire horse to submit physically. You loved each and every scar, the signs of his stubborn nature on display for all to see.

"Hello, sweet boy." You greet him and let him snuffle you over, waving off the over eager stable hand. "May I ride you today? I am to inspect the troops." He blows a huff of air and turns his head away. You slide your hand along his proud neck and across his withers to the saddle. Checking it over, you deem it done well enough and climb on his back. Your legs spread wide across his broad barrel. Your advisors turn away, knowing that you will refuse their most strident pleas to ride sidesaddle.

"Let us inspect the troops." With that, the company is off at a quick walk to the parade grounds. Your group of advisors and the personal guard that you only marginally trust join the General and his entourage at the front of the formation. You strongly dislike the General. He is somehow the worst mix of ass kissing and condescending.

"The army is excited to be inspected this morning, Your Royal Highness." You barely manage to cover your snort. There is no way they are happy to be here standing in the sun to be inspected on your whim. You move from company to company, looking over the men and pointing out individuals to be inspected, but seeing none you would consider as consort. Reaching the special forces, the rabid dogs as your advisors refer to them, the General is incensed to see that the leader of one is missing.

"Where is the Captain? This is not an optional inspection!"

A man steps forward, "He was injured in a skirmish this week and is still confined to the hospital, General Argus." Looking over the group, you see several still sport bandages and healing abrasions. You nudge your mount closer, his ears perked forward in a match to your curiosity. The General apologizes to you for the disrespect of the men for not appearing but is cut off.

"Your Royal Highness. Escaping the hospital took longer than predicted. For that, I sincerely apologize." You turn, seeing a man limping toward the formation at a quick pace. This must be the Captain. As he falls in, you dismount your mule, resting your hand on his broad neck. Your personal guard hurriedly surrounds you, standing much too close. Rosebud takes exception to being crowded, ears flattening against his head. He strikes out like a snake. His teeth click just shy of the nearest man, who stumbles back yelling and unsheathes a sword. Without a thought, you draw your own ceremonial dagger.

"Touch one hair on Rosebud, and I will gut you." Everyone around you freezes before slowly backing away. "I will not be crowded by your incompetent forms when I am here to inspect the troops." They retreat from your anger, not wanting to risk you calling for their death. Rosebud drops his head, relaxing, and you absentmindedly rub his long ear the way he loves. His lip twitches and his eyes half close for a moment before he pulls away. You step forward, and Rosebud matches your pace, keeping his shoulder just behind yours. It took months to build up a relationship with him, and now he is putty in your hands most days.

An advisor tries to signal you to stay back, but you ignore them, your eyes on the men, looking for the best of them. You memorize the name of the Captain and another likely candidate, signaling Advisor Williams to your side. He groans but carefully walks to you, eyes locked on the increased alertness of Rosebud.

"I will have an audience with this Captain Price and Colonel König. As soon as the men are dismissed. In private." You walk forward and give a cursory inspection to the man who had spoken on the Captain's behalf. His uniform is impeccable, you are happy to see. You don't want them punished on your behalf. The smirk on his face beneath his mask sends a thrill through you. Another man who is not cowed by your station. That is important in advisors. Lieutenant Riley, his uniform says. You nod and mount Rosebud again, rejoining the pack of advisors to inspect the remaining troops. No others catch your eye.

Walking into your State room, you signal for everyone except the two soldiers to leave. While unusual, they are compelled to do so by your haughty glares and Advisor Williams guiding them away, barring the doors behind him and standing guard. Sitting in your throne, you drag your eyes over the men. Colonel König is wearing his customary face covering, and Captain Price has the cover he is well-known for in his hands.

"I have a proposal for you both that I want you to carefully consider. This proposal will not be spoken of again if you decline and it will not leave this room." The men perk up, and you see heat in their eyes as they consider one of the possibilities of your words. "I need advisors who are not advisors." That throws them off, and you see the Colonel shift uneasily. "These advisors would be the closest of any man or woman to me. They would teach and protect me with their very lives. My life is under threat and has been since the King and Queen died, my uncle taking over as Regent. I need advisors who will help me oust him and take my rightful place on the throne without contest and without raising his suspicions. Thus, I need men who will join my harem." You pause, savoring the way their faces change as they process this.

"Your Royal Highness, are you asking us to find you men to join your harem? That is most unusual, but we will do our best." You shake your head at Captain Price.

"Yes, but not in the way you are thinking. I am asking the two of you to join my harem and to advise me on the best men to round out such a harem. To be advisors and leaders in removing the despot from his fake throne. To be my lovers, spoiled in every way and to guard me from all attempts on my life. I want you both, and I trust you to choose others and to bring them to me for approval. If you decline this position, we shall never speak on it again."

"Yes, I would be honored to be chosen for your harem, Your Royal Highness." Colonel König does not hesitate to agree. He feels he has loved you from afar for years, and this is an opportunity he will not squander.

"I would be as well, Your Royal Highness." Captain Price is confident that declining now would be a mistake, and he is not a man prone to mistakes. "I have a few men in mind that would be good additions. They are a bit of a package deal." You nod, expecting as much.

"Their names?"

"John MacTavish, Simon Riley and Kyle Garrick, Your Royal Highness."

"I have two in mind that would be good choices as well. Hiro Watanabe and Kim Hong-jin. They are foreign, but good, loyal and strong men, Your Royal Highness."

The smile you bestow them with is almost a surprise to the men. "Then, I wish for you to gather your men and their belongings. You will join me tonight, my consorts."

"Yes, Your Royal Highness." The men bow and leave, stunned at the way this meeting has gone. You order Advisor Williams to prepare the harem quarters and pack your own belongings secretly. It would be folly to live apart from the men who will be your new private guard and you would be lying if you weren't excited to see under those perfectly done uniforms.

#konig x reader #könig x reader #call of duty #cod smut #ghost cod #ghost x reader #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #captain john price #price x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #hiro watanabe #kim hong jin #simon riley x reader

[incognit0slut]

COWBOY SPENCE! COWBOY SPENCE! WE WANT COWBOY SPENCE!

Fluff. Kind of a continuation to this but not really. 1.3k. Also thank you anon for bringing back my cowboy spence agenda.

Spencer gives you a ride on his horse to watch the sunset.

-

"You're not supposed to be here," he said the moment he saw you enter the stable. And he was right, visiting his ranch on a random Tuesday evening was the last thing you should be doing.

Emily had sent you to interview someone tied to the case, and you managed to gather more information about the Unsub, which you shared with her over the phone. But on your way back to the police station, you realized Spencer's ranch was just a half-hour drive away from town. So you turned the steering wheel, hoping your boss wouldn't notice your impulsive detour.

"Well, you're supposed to reply to my text," you shot back, the sound of your boots echoing on the ground.

He offered a sheepish smile. "Sorry about that, I got caught up today, haven’t had the chance to check my phone."​

"I guess some things never change," you remarked as you approached him standing inside the horse arena, hopping up onto the fence. "Give me a kiss."

Spencer chuckled softly, gently patting Mildred's mane as he stepped around her, the beautiful white horse who seemed to acknowledge your presence with a subtle bow of her head. As he reached your side, he leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your lips, his touch sending a rush of warmth through you.

This was exactly why you had wanted to see him. The absence of his presence had left a void you hadn't realized until now and you groaned when he gently pulled away. His touch lingered as he brushed a stray strand of hair away from your face, his concern evident in his voice.

"Aren't you going to get into trouble?"

"Maybe," you admitted with a playful shrug. "But some things are worth the risk, don't you think?"

"Emily wouldn't be too happy about that," he pointed out.

"She can do just fine without me for an hour or two," you countered before your attention shifted towards Mildred. "Hey, Millie!"

He laughed. "Millie? You've only met her once and you already have a nickname for her?"

You flashed him a grin. "Well, she just looks like a Millie to me," you said, reaching out to stroke Mildred's soft mane. The horse nuzzled against your hand affectionately, and you couldn't help but laugh.

"I think she likes her new name," he remarked. "Wanna take her out on a ride?"

Your eyes widened at the suggestion. "And break my back? I don't even know how to ride a horse."

"Come on, I'll ride with you," he insisted, leading Mildred towards the arena gate. With a quick hop, you jumped off the fence and caught up with him just as he stepped out of the gate, his horse following behind.

You hesitated for a moment, uncertainty flickering in your eyes as you looked up at him from beneath the brim of his cowboy hat. "I don't think this is a good idea."

He met your gaze with a reassuring smile, his arm outstretched towards you. "You'll be fine, you trust me, right?"

His confidence was infectious, and despite your doubt, you found yourself nodding.

"Alright, let's do this," you said, placing your hand in his as he helped you onto Mildred's back. "Don't let go of me!"

"I won't," he said with a chuckle, and your foot stepped onto the stirrup as he steadied Mildred. With a deep breath, you swung your other leg over, settling onto the saddle.

"You ready?" he asked, his voice filled with excitement. But before you could answer, he smoothly mounted himself up and settled behind you, his presence comforting as Mildred began to move beneath you both.

"Holy shit," you couldn't help but mutter, feeling extremely conscious of sitting so high up on a horse. "This feels weird."

He moved his arms securely around you as he held onto the reins. "You're doing great," he said soothingly, his voice close to your ear. "Just take it easy, you'll get used to it in no time."

His words filled you with warmth, and you couldn't help but lean back against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your touch. His arms around you gave a sense of security as Mildred carried you forward, and that was when you saw it, the vast expanse of his ranch unfolding before you.

The rolling hills, the sprawling fields, and the distant mountains dotted with trees and bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun painted a picturesque scene that took your breath away.

"Spencer Reid," you mused, your eyes tracing the landscape, watching a group of cattle running around at the side of the field. "You're rich rich."

He chuckled softly, his chest vibrating against your back. "I prefer to think of it as being fortunate."

"No wonder you don't want to work with us anymore."

"Honestly, there’s a part of me that doesn't want to leave all this behind," he admitted, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "But it's not just about the ranch. Being here reminds me of the simpler things in life, the BAU can be... overwhelming at times."

You understood his sentiment, "I get that," you said softly. “I'm just glad you seem happier now."

A soft smile tugged at the corners of Spencer's lips as one of his arms circled your waist. "Thank you," he murmured. "I'm actually happier with you here."

Your giggle danced through the air and his smile widened at the sound. With a gentle squeeze around your waist, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Look at the view."

You followed his gaze, looking out in front of you just as he urged Mildred to stop. As the horse came to a halt, you found yourself gazing out at the breathtaking scenery spread out before you.

The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm golden glow over the landscape, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. The rolling hills and sprawling fields seemed to stretch on endlessly, while in the distance, the mountains stood tall against the horizon.

"It's beautiful," you whispered, the awe evident in your voice as you took in the stunning view.

Spencer's arm tightened around your waist as he leaned in. "Very beautiful.”

Your smile widened as you fished your phone out of your pocket to capture the moment, but as you faced the camera towards the scenery, the screen showed the front camera instead. You both burst out laughing, but then you took the opportunity to lean back against him and angle the camera right in front of you.

Spencer smiled as you cupped his cheek with your free hand, his stubble rough against your palm, before you snapped the moment. You then examined the result, admiring the way he was leaning close to you, his bright hazel eyes sparkling with warmth, with the soft lines of his smile at the corners of his eyes.

“I’m changing this into my wallpaper now.”

His grin widened as you showed him the picture.

"I like the sound of that," he said, his eyes lingering on the image with fondness. Just then, there was a sudden notification on your screen and you exchanged a quick glance with him before opening the message.

Boss Woman: You better not be visiting Reid

Boss Woman: Oh who am I kidding? Of course you are. Say hi to him for me

Boss Woman: But get your ass back to the station right now

His laughter echoed behind you. "It’s like she has a sixth sense."

"I haven’t even told her about us yet," you replied, shaking your head in amusement. "Let's head back before she sends out a search party."

With a nudge from him, he turned Mildred around and guided her on the way back to the ranch. And as the sun dipped lower in the sky, painting the landscape in a warm golden light, you knew that this was worth the trouble. You felt the gentle sway of the horse and you couldn't help but smile, placing a hand on the arm circling your waist.

You were definitely going to visit him again.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #cowboy spence

[tightjeansjavi]

Hi!! Love your writing!! Can you write a cowboy fetish joel miller with boot riding 🥺🥺

Hi nonnie! Thank you for sending this in! It scratched my brain just ✨right✨ and I hope it does the same for you! I couldn’t just do some boot ridin’ without some plot ;) enjoy 🤠

Dinner & Diatribes

~word count: 3.7k~

Pairing | Cowboy/bounty hunter! Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: you’re the kind of love that Joel Miller has been dreaming of all his life

Warnings: smut,fluff, angst, cowboy in shining armor vibes, unprotected piv, boot ridin! dick slingin, mutual masturbation, voyeurism, implied age gap, dom/sub vibes, sir/mister kink, implied abuse (not by Joel) Joel is a bounty hunter during the Wild West, reader is a runaway bride wanted for murdering three men, filthy language, pining, protective! Joel, assumed unrequited love, swearing, AU that might not 100% be historically accurate but I tried! reader has no physical descriptions such a skin tone or body type, readers nickname is Chickadee, +18 minors dni! Let me know if I missed anything!

Joel Miller knows that keeping a bounty for himself ain’t the way to go about things..he knows that there’s consequences for his actions, an imminent problem would surely arise if he didn’t bring you back to the town you fled from. Wanted for the murders of three men. A wild untamable thing on the run is how the sheriff described you to Joel. And the most important detail of all; I don’t care if you bring her back alive, or in pieces.

And then Joel found you, tracked your trails for miles and miles through the barren rough terrain of the Wild West. You didn’t even put up a fight when you heard the distinct sound of thundering hooves drawing nearer and nearer. You were exhausted, dehydrated, and on the verge of collapsing to the dusty earth while vultures circled ahead.

This didn’t mean you gave up entirely when Joel Miller had you circled, cornered and lasso at the ready. That’s when he took notice of your state, your attire. A once glittering wedding dress now hanging on by threads of shredded fabric. The bottom tooled fabric was now a dirty sand color, blending in with the dirt. Remnants of your eye makeup cracked and stained beneath your eyes and cheekbones that were once painted in a pretty pigment.

He watched from the saddle of his horse as you sank down to your knees, awaiting your inevitable fate to be delivered. “Have you come to turn me in, Mister?”

His head cocked to the side, eyes studying your vulnerable form intently. You couldn’t see his face as it was obstructed from your view with a tied bandana, but even from where you sat on your knees, you could see that his eyes were a deep shade of brown, dark and mysterious.

He dismounted his horse swiftly, silently, boots tearing up dusty patches of earth with each heavy step he took. The spurs on the back of his boots chimed through the air as he stopped in front of you. His broad frame casted a shadow over your kneeling form. His hands were encased in worn leather, and he smelled of tobacco smoke, saddle soap, and musk.

He crouched down, hat tipping forward while one leather clad hand reached for your jaw, thumb brushing across your skin as he tilted it upwards, forcing you to look into his eyes. He saw your grime and dried blood stained face up close. Your eyes flickered nervously as he turned your head to the side.

“Ain’t you gonna get on with it and turn me in? What’re you draggin’ this out for, huh? You caught me, mister. Go and collect your fuckin’ reward.” You spat defiantly into the dirt, a glob of salvia landing on the toe of his boot.

His grip tightened around your chin, jaw ticking sharp like a knife, eyes narrowing in on your face and the subtle wobble of your severely cracked and dry lower lip.

“What happened to you?” He finally spoke. His voice reminded you of fire crackling, ominous thunder and heavy rain. Thick, gravelly, deeper than the Grand Canyon itself.

“What’s it matter if I tell ya, huh? You gonna take pity on me or somethin’ mister?”

He was silent again, appearing deep in thought as he continued to study your face, searching through the grime and dirt for any clues..then, he saw it; The eyes of someone that suffered abuse. His grip around your chin softened

“Stand up.” He commanded.

You struggled to your feet, confusion etched in your features, the obvious sway in your step before two strong hands grabbed your shoulders to steady you.

“We’ll have to move fast.”

“What’re you—” You were still confused, head spinning from his words and malnourishment.

“I don’t turn in folks that killed outta self defense, Chickadee. And certainly not a woman that killed her abusers.” He gave you a curt, tight nod. “Better you than I cause I woulda tied those sons a bitches up and dragged them through the fuckin’ desert.” He rasped.

“You’re..not turnin’ me in?”

“No. Ain’t morally right for me t’do so.” He said softly.

And that’s how you ended up riding through the countryside with Joel Miller to protect you. You’d patch up his shiners, his wounds, keep his belly full with hearty stews that kept him strong and alert. You’d clean his gun, shine his leather till you could see your reflection in the fabric. And in return, he protected you. He never asked for any sexual favors, or for your hand. He viewed you as his equal, his partner.

It hurt sometimes, to flirt with the man you owed your life to and for him to brush your attempts off everytime. As if you were a pesky horsefly, or insignificant gnat. Yet, you couldn’t help it. Joel was handsome, ruggedly so and you’d often find yourself fantasizing about kissing him, feeling his fingers touch you in places you craved to be touched in. To feel his caress on your skin, the bite of his leather, the scrape of his scruffy beard. The stretch of his cock inside of your wet cunt.

You were driving yourself mad with want for a man that didn’t want you back, or so you assumed that was to be the case.

That couldn’t have been further from the truth.

Joel Miller was on the edge to finally just give in when he caught you one night with your skirts hiked above your thighs with your boot clad feet firmly planted in the dirt. Under the pale glow of the moonlight above, and the glittery shining stars, he could see your hand between your thighs, touching yourself and moaning his name.

It felt wrong to watch you, to invade your privacy and your modesty. But he’d be damned if he’d go another night without feeling the hug of your pussy around his aching cock. Or to feel the taste of your kissable lips on his tongue. Damned. Damned. Damned. Fuck, he couldn’t survive another second without knowing what it was like to be loved by you.

For years he had pushed you away despite knowing the pain it caused both you and him. A man could only last so long pretending to not love a woman that he’d throw his life down for in a heartbeat. That’s the kinda love Joel Miller had been dreaming of all his life.

Your head snapped at the sound of a twig snapping behind you as your hand stilled between your thighs. Your heartbeat rattled wildly in your rib cage at the fear and excitement of being caught.

Oh, please. Please let tonight be the night.

“Don’t stop on my account, Chickadee.” He drawled deeply before stepping closer to where you sat.

The heat rushed to your cheeks like a wildfire spreading, your stomach clenched inwards as you began to touch yourself once more, eyes staying locked on his own.

When he was close enough, you used his shins for support as you rubbed your swollen clit in tight, fast circles.

“No.” He shook his head. “Slower. Take your time, darlin.’ There ain’t no rush. Let me see you.” He rasped, before slowly sinking into the dirt behind you. His strong thighs corralled your own almost possessively as his hands gently grasped the hem of your skirts, pulling them up higher. You felt the brush of his beard against your cheek when his chin came to rest along your shoulder. “Nice and slow for me.”

“I’m—sorry, Joel.” You whispered ashamedly through the cool darkness of the desert night. You slowed your fingers, dragging them through the building slick that pooled between the seam of your cunt.

“Sorry for what, Chickadee? Sorry for touchin’ yourself? For moanin’ my name? Why would you be sorry for that?..” His deep tone sent sparks flying through your body as you leaned back into his strong chest.

“Because—you don’t want me, and this is wrong for me to do. To touch myself and moan a man’s name that doesn’t desire me the way I desire him.” A whimper was clawing up your throat, begging to be released, but you wouldn’t allow it.

He dropped the fabric of your skirts briefly only to dip his hand between your thighs and place his massive palm over the top of your hand, guiding your fingers over your clit once more. “This man desires you plenty, Chickadee. I was only tryin’ to protect your modesty..and our hearts.” He whispered against your ear, lips ghosting across your exposed skin. “Been wantin’ to love you all these years we’ve spent together.” He admitted. “I’m a terrible, rotten man for keepin’ you starved this long..” he trailed off, pressing open mouthed kisses at the spot where your jaw met your neck. “M’sorry.”

Those were the last words you ever expected a fucking bounty hunter to whisper..let alone to you?

A shuddered breath slipped past your parted lips, just for him. Your head lolled to the side, granting him easier access as your lashes fluttered shut. “I’ve felt like..such a fool, Joel. A dirty little fool for a bounty hunter.” You took your lower lip between your teeth, biting down harshly and drawing blood to the surface. You let him take full control of your hand, letting him guide and manipulate your fingers to play with yourself just right.

“Shh..I know now, Chickadee. M’sorry, truly. But I’m here now, ain’t I? M’here. Here forever if you’ll have me. I understand if I've bruised and neglected your heart far too many times..I can accept your rejection if it is coming.”

You could detect the edge of sadness in his tone, the acceptance already settling into his bones and heart.

“Joel, please kiss me.” You nearly begged him, dying to finally know what his lips would feel like on your own.

“Why didn’t ya just say that sooner, Chickadee.” He chuckled. “I wish ya woulda just grabbed me by the breeches years ago and knocked some sense into my thick skull. Woulda taken your ache away a long time ago, darlin.’” He said in a hushed whisper. “But I know you were afraid..can’t blame ya for that. Not really. ‘Specially since I ain’t the nicest of men to come by.”

He was taking too long, and you were an impatient woman.

“Joel.” You huffed, fighting the urge to curse him out before you decided to take matters into your own hands, finally. Tomorrow was never promised, not when you and Joel were constantly on the run.

He kept rambling on until he felt the soft touch of your fingertips brushing against the patches in his scruffy beard and the magnetic pull drawing him in closer, closer till he could taste your mingled breath on his lips.

Here in the middle of the desert, with nothing but the moon and stars as a source of light, you finally knew what it was like to kiss Joel Miller. You learned his lips quickly, liking that they were both soft and a bit chapped. As you licked slowly into one another’s mouths you could taste the faint remnants of tobacco on his tongue. It was a bruising kiss, one that both ignited the fire deep within you, and sent a delicious tingle curving down your spine.

So, this is what the girls back home were all talking about. Being kissed by a real man.

And then you found yourself straddling him in the dirt, saying fuck all to your modesty because you had never wanted a man more than you did now. And you wished that your mother could see you now. To see what her perfect little daughter had turned into.

Fuck you, mother. Fuck you for forcing me to marry that monster.

Joel brought you back down to earth with both his lips and his words tattooed on your skin. He caged you with his body, acting as a shield from the chilly night ear that sent goosebumps rising.

He worked your blouse open, growing more frustrated by the minute when the clasps wouldn’t automatically give. He was desperate to feel more of you, all of you because he knew then that you were his, and he was yours. And if you’d end up being the death of him, so be it. At least he could go out being loved rather than unloved.

“You gonna fuck me now, mister? Gonna take what belongs to you, Joel?” You mumbled against his lips in a chasing kiss, growing more desperate as the seconds ticked by.

“Gonna do more than that, Chickadee.” He rasped. This was a promise, and a man such as Joel always kept his promises.

The howl of a Coyote far off in the distant sent uneasy nerves rolling through you, because the realization hit you then that you and Joel were out in the fucking wilderness, and you suddenly felt bare and exposed.

“Jus’ a coyote, doll. He’s singin’ to the moon. We’re safe here, I promise. Ain’t ever gonna let somethin’ happen to you again, Chickadee.” His strong calloused, yet gentle hands came to cup for your face. His deep brown eyes met yours through the pale glow of the moonlight casted over your faces. “I swear on my life, you will always be safe with me.”

and while the lone coyote sang his song to the moon, Joel Miller had you singing your own song, just for his ears too.

After that night spent together, you never had a night where you slept alone. Joel was always there. Holding you, kissing you, fucking you into a blissful state.

He still feared for your safety, and you feared for his. This would never change, but you refused to live in fear for the rest of your life.

It was a boiling hot day under the blazing desert sun. You and Joel were moving west towards California. Hearing about the gold rush there sounded like as good of an opportunity as any. Not even just for the gold, but the prospects of a new life. Joel had dreams of owning a ranch, sheep specifically and living out his days with you by his side.

“Come join me for a swim, cowboy.” You were sitting side by side under the one single tree along the river's edge. Your two horses were drinking their fill after traveling for days in these conditions.

Your cowboy had his arms crossed behind his head, biceps bulging under the thin fabric of his shirt. His hat was tipped down over his head. You only witnessed Joel being fully relaxed on a few occasions where he would let his guard down for just mere minutes.

“Mmm. That’s alright, doll. Y’go on and enjoy yourself.” He said with a lazy sigh.

“Just a quick one together? Please?” You reached over and gently lifted the brim of his hat just enough so you could see his closed eyes.”

“Chickadee..” he said in a low warning tone, peeking one eye open to look up at you before he shut it once more.

“You’re no fun.” You huffed while releasing your gentle grip on his hat.

“M’plenty fun, doll. I gotta keep watch, anyway. Can’t do that if I’m stark naked in the river with ya. What if someone tries to sneak up? Won’t have my gun at arms reach.” He sighed.

“I know, Joel.”

Maybe when we get to California..he won’t have to worry about all of that.

He sat up turning his body to face you before his palm came to rest upon your cheek in a gentle caress. His thumb brushed across your lower lip, tugging it down gently before he leaned in and kissed you sweetly. “Now go on and cool off, Chickadee.”

You kissed him back with the same amount of sweetness before you pulled away and gave his nose a light boop. His face scrunched inwards before he reached around and gave your ass a light and playful swat that sent you giggling as you rose to your feet.

You shot him a seductive wink before you raced down to the river's edge, kicking up a cloud of dirt with your boots.

Joel watched from afar with a hooded gaze as you stripped down from your skirts and blouse followed by your unlaced boots. He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself when your one boot wouldn’t give right away and you nearly tripped before finally getting it off. He kept watch as you dove into the crystal clear waters and reameraged moments later.

He reached into his pack, pulling out an apple and pocket knife while you splashed around like a kid on Christmas. He cut off a small slice before biting it off on the edge of the knife, chewing thoughtfully as he leaned back against the sturdy tree.

When we get to California..I’m going to marry her.

He didn’t want to end your fun so soon..but it was time to get moving again. He brought his thumb and forefinger into his mouth, whistling to let you know that it was time to pack up.

You had been floating peacefully on your back with your eyes closed when you heard his whistle that immediately tore you from your daydream state.

He was just about to stand up from where he was resting against the tree when you emerged from the river. You reminded him of a goddess. Bare, beautiful, skin sprinkled in water droplets that were kissed by the sun. You looked unreal, and he was the luckiest man alive.

“C’mon, Chickadee. We gotta head out.” He called for you when you were within earshot.

“I’m coming!” You bent down to gather up your clothes before the idea struck you. “Can I dry off first, please?”

He let out a grumbled sigh before he ultimately nodded his head in agreement. A few more minutes couldn’t hurt..

“Jus’ till ya dry off, doll.”

With your clothes and boots gathered up in your bare arms, you approached him casually, setting everything down on your nearby saddle while he watched you with piqued curiosity.

“I was thinking about you out there..laying on my back and feeling the warmth of the sun on my skin..” you trailed off.

“Is that so? Hmm..what were you thinkin’ about, Chickadee?” His eyes slowly trailed down your bare body. From the swell of your breasts, down your tummy and thighs and what lay between them.

“Want to take a guess, cowboy?” You asked teasingly.

His brow raised as a grin tugged along the corner of his lips. A game is what you were playing, and he was the willing participant.

“Based on your tone, I’m gonna guess it’s got somethin’ to do with..my cock?” He wiggled his eyebrows in a suggestive manner while his hand casually came to rest between his own thighs. Oh, he was playing alright.

“Mmm..perhaps I was thinkin’ of ridin’ your cock right under the shade of this tree..but that would be too obvious, Joel.” Your eyes drifted down to where his hand was before the traveled down the expanse of his strong thighs and ending at the toe of his leather boots.

He caught onto your drift almost immediately and you saw his pupils begin to darken. “Y’wanna ride my boot? Is’that it? Well, ain’t you a filthy thing, Chickadee. You wanna get ‘em all shined up for me? Drag that sweet cunt of yours over them?”

His eyes stayed locked on yours in a challenging stare while he palmed himself through his pants to relieve the growing tension.

“I do, sir. I really, really, really want to ride your boot.” You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks because never in your wildest dreams did you expect to take part in debauchery such as this.

“On your knees then, girl. Kiss ‘em for me.” He fell right into character with a flip of a switch.

You found yourself lowering onto your knees without a care in the world about the dirt while you bent down over his boots, pressing a kiss to the leather, dragging your tongue down the stitched seam.

“That’s it, doll. Get ‘em nice and shined up for me.” He said while popping the button on his pants open and pulling his cock free from the confines.

“You gonna touch yourself while I ride your boot, mister?” You were sitting upright again before you crawled closer, letting your hands rest along his thighs as you positioned yourself right above his left boot. The imprint of your kiss had already begun to dry from the scorching heat.

“Yeah, doll. I’m gonna fist my cock while you ride my boot like the dirty Chickadee that you are.” He spat into his palm before he wrapped his fist around the base of his cock just as you lowered yourself over the expanse of his boot, taking your lip between your teeth when you dragged your clit right across the smooth leather.

“Fuuck me. Ain’t that a sight. Look at you, fuckin’ filthy girl. S’feel good, Chickadee?”

You rolled your hips forward slowly at the rate that he was pumping his fist. A soft whimper slipped past your lips while your eyes stayed locked on his.

“Feels so good, mister. So—so good.” You moaned freely with each steady roll of your hips, chasing that high. Nothing would ever compare to Joel’s cock. You knew this, he knew this, and you also were aware that this little game would only last so long.

And then he watched you lose yourself completely on his boot with each roll and grind of your hips against the dampened leather. Crying out his name, nails digging into his covered thighs, head thrown back, tears nearly flooding your eyes.

He had the same sense of urgency and realization that nothing would ever compare to the warm hug of your pussy around his cock. That’s when the game ended as his strong arms came to lift you into his lap by your thighs. His lips met yours in a bruising kiss filled with intermingled moans and teeth clashing together when he finally slipped into your warmth.

California could wait a little longer, he wanted to savor this moment for as long as it lasted because now he had the love that he had been dreaming of all his life. Right here in his arms, cock buried to the hilt under the shade of this very tree. Right here with his Chickadee.

That’s the kinda love I’ve been dreaming of

banners made by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

I no longer do tag lists so please follow @tightjeansjaviupdates for fic notifications and updates!

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel the last of us #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #joel x reader #joel tlou #au joel miller #cowboy joel #bounty hunter joel #protective joel #joel miller one shot #joel miller imagine #joel miller story #joel x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction

[vivwritesfics]

VIIIIIIIIV 👀 horsegirl x Lando HORSE GIRL X LANDO please, I beg! 🙏 ~nurse-buckley (I wish you could ask of side blogs)

GIRL I GOT YOU (tagging you so it comes up in your notifs) @nurse-buckley

At her last competition, she'd had a fall. Gismo had put in an extra stride before the jump that she wasn't ready for, and she was bumped out of the saddle. It hadn't been a nasty fall, and she was fine, just a little shaken. But her helmet had been the first thing to hit the floor. When she got up it was covered in sand, which she quickly brushed on and got riding again.

After the competition, she checked her hat. She squeezed it against her chest and it creaked. "Fuck," she said, looking up at Gismo. It was her only helmet, one she had owned since she was seventeen.

Lando saw the video of her falling off. She showed it to him as they cuddled on the couch. "We got disqualified and my hat broke," she muttered, letting out a sigh.

"Let me get you a new one," Lando immediately said.

But she shook her head. She hated it when Lando paid for things, especially when he helped to pay for the horses. When they started dating her instagram got flooded with comments, calling her a gold digger. She'd worked too hard for that.

"Lan, no," she said, slipping her phone back into her pocket. "Besides, I'll be able to afford one soon."

Still, though, Lando didn't like it. He let out a huff, tightening his arm around her. Until she got a new helmet she couldn't ride, and he hated that.

The Charles Owen collaboration came just days after that. Lando immediately knew what he dad to do.

It wasn't often that Lando came to the yard. The horses were out in the field and she was cleaning their tack when Lando showed up. She looked up at him as he walked across the yard, avoiding the mud. No matter how hard he tried, though, he'd still leave the yard with mud splashing up his sweats.

"Hey," she called, running up to him and wrapping her arms around him. Lando breathed in. The smell of horses was masked by the scent of leather soap. "What're you doing here?"

Lando held two bags towards her. "I got you presents," he said.

She gave him a suspicious look. Taking one of the bags from him, she opened it up. The shape of the hat, even in the Charles Owen bag, was incredibly recognisable. "Lando, you didn't," she said, pulling the hat from the bag.

It was gorgeous. The pattern was incredibly recognisable, since it was already in green all over his F1 helmet. But, instead of being green, it was black and grey. Lando had taken a gamble having the LN4 logo printed in small on the side, but she loved it. Thank god she loved it.

"I asked them to make a hat just for you when Flo had her helmet collab," he said as she tried it on. It was almost a perfect fit, just a little too wide, but that was easily fixed.

Lando held up the other bag, shaking it slightly. Still wearing her new hat, she took the bag and opened it... to see another hat. This one was a plain skull cap, black with no peak. She pulled it out to find a hat silk beneath.

"No way," she whispered, pulling out the hat silk. It had the same pattern as the hat currently on her head, but this one really was neon green.

Lando grinned as she threw her arms around him, still wearing the hat. "I love you, I love you, I love you," she said, carefully kissing all over his face.

She pulled the hat from her head and held it close to her chest. "You're the best boyfriend ever."

He didn't tell her about the matching saddle pad he was currently having made.

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader smut #lando norris x you #ln4 #ln4 imagine #ln4 x reader #f1 #formula one #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine

[astralnymphh]

equestrian ellie teaching u how 2 ride, in two ways.

bruh bruh bruh okay this was an idea I had months ago but the thoughts have finally fermented long enough. equestrian!ellie, who gives you riding lessons since ur' the new stable girl, and its' been your crux dream since you were little (literally me.) so whenever you aren't mucking out the stables and replacing the stable bedding, or picking the hooves of all the horses there– ellie, asks you to saddle up her horse. you assume it's so she can ride, but instead, she offers up lessons to you, chalking it up to 'just for fun' but realistically, she just enjoys your company, too much. blehh then im thinking about her riding a horse, that strapping taut grip on the reins, the way her hips roll into the leather saddle, the way her thighs flex and bulge slightly whenever she hikes herself up in a trot, or performs a jump. n while ellie teaches you, her hands mindlessly linger on your knee, thigh, wrist, small of your back, literally manhandles your body when she teaches you how to sit in a saddle properly. fuckin' takes a tender grasp to your foot and slides it just a bit so it's settled in the stirrup correctly. making sm eye contact cause she's just so intimidating n you can't gaze away from those puppy green eyes ౨ৎ

how weeks would pass, taking these lessons everyday, leads you to being in her room, stripped of hers and your gear. ellie lies down on her bed, strap buckled up, ready to go, n all she fucking says is "y'know how to ride, c'mon– like I showed you."

side note she would look fucking hot working at a stable. the exerted glow she gets under that cosmic sun. bruhh.. also imagine her legs in a pair of those riding breeches.. tight on her skin but not too much, has just enough looseness to it.. giving her crotch kind of a bulky look when she sits down.. aughh!!! I NEED TO WRITE THIS AS A SERIES BUT I ALRDY GOT SM SHIT

#ellie williams #⤹𓍢ִ໋aestras thoughts #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie tlou #ellie x reader #lesbian #sapphic #ellie williams x fem!reader #ellie williams fic #ellie williams concept #equestrian!ellie #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams blurb #ellie williams ideas

[flordeamatista]

𝗛𝗼𝗹𝗱 𝗠𝗲 𝗗𝗼𝘄𝗻

pairing: bull rider!bucky barnes x heiress!reader

concept: Passionate dusk pleasure covers you both with lust, spilling its mist through the night.

word count: 3k

warnings: best friends to lovers, ranch hand Bucky who works for reader's family, fluff, angst, smut (riding Bucky) soft kisses, nickname- Sweetheart

a/n: I created this fantasy daydream almost a year ago. Hopefully you'll love these other pretty men this fall/winter as well. Way Down We Go Masterlist

lovely beta: @writing-for-marvel and @lfnr-blog-blog-blog

line divider by the lovely @lfnr-blog-blog-blog and she made me the pngs

masterlist

Despite the danger of loss, time purifies something impure, but still wants to be touched.

He sees the world ticking off to every moment in life for him to be ready for the moment because you only have eight seconds to live.

Stepping up to the bull, Bucky felt its rage throbbing through its thick white hide. The creature looked mean, angry, and fierce as it pawed at the ground beneath it. It was ready to face its challenger, waiting for a chance to strike back at the man who dared to encroach on its territory. 

Under its thick, white hide, the bull's muscles bulged, while steam hissed from its nostrils. Grasping the sticky rope with one hand and clutching his cowboy hat with the other, Bucky's heart raced. People held their breath in the thick air of tension.

Suddenly, a crackling roar filled the arena, like a thousand thunderclaps rolling across the sky. 

One second.

Its horns aimed at the middle of the arena like deadly weapons, as the gates burst open, and the bull charged forward. The packed arena roared as the mighty bull rushed forward, its horns glittering in the moon’s light, and him riding it with the creature of the night. 

Bucky's show.

Two seconds.

Terrified that he wouldn't make it to the end, his limbs quivered and his grip on the rope tightened. But then he remembered why he was doing this.

The love.

Three seconds.

He felt a faint warmth behind him, which when he glanced in its direction revealed you at the edge of the arena beaming with pride and waving your arms for encouragement.  You came to see him. The applause grew louder and were about to roar even more when Bucky’s hold on the strap and his hat grew tighter.

 Three words: Only for you.

Four seconds.

A sudden wave of power surged through Bucky's veins at the sight of you, giving him newfound strength and focus as he fought against being bucked off the wild beast beneath him.  

Maintain his body's strength.

Five seconds.

The bull's fury was intensified by the crowd's jeers. The spectators continued to cheer wildly while Bucky remained atop the bull, wishing desperately that he could turn around and see whether or not you were still there.

Observe him, love him, sweetheart

Six seconds.

Bucky's cowboy hat was lifted off his head abruptly as he clung to the bull's back. His legs were spread wide, straddling the saddle and pinning him against its stiff leather surface. The force of the animal's bucking sent drops of sweat flying from his brow, into his sea-blue eyes, and down his throat. He took a deep breath and tightened his grip on the rope before stretching out his free arm. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the bull's rhythm, his muscles quivering with each buck. Though he felt himself slipping, he was determined to keep going. He was desperate for any gust of air that could keep him in place.

With every muscle in his body, he willed it to remain still. 

Seven seconds.

Bucky saw out of the corner of his eye that you were still there; leaning over one rail with your fist raised in triumph at his progress so far. With this last boost of courage, he made it through to eight seconds. 

Bucky soared into the air and landed on his knees, facing you. Dedicated to the person who never seems to leave his mind, the wind knew where to land his two feet. The bull rushed towards him out of the corner of his eye. His attention was caught by clowns maneuvering the bull away from him. Several yards from the fence, his hat lay in the middle. His instincts pushed him forward, despite knowing it was potentially dangerous.

The danger of losing you would be worse if he didn't do it. Then he picked up his hat and bowed when his name sung.

With arms outstretched and legs pumping, he leapt through the open gate and sprinted towards you, where you stood watching.

He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close. His warm breath caressed your ear as he whispered, “You know I won in eight seconds. I don't want money. I want eight kisses from the sweetest lips in the world." He placed his hat on your head. When he stared straight at you, the glint in his blue eyes revealed something very lustful. A smirk spreads across his face as he licks his lips and walks away.

Electricity flowed between you. The air was electric with anticipation and excitement, as your heart raced. You had been moved by Bucky Barnes' first kiss, which made crossing lines with a best friend harder every day.

You want more kisses, and you want to give him more than eight.

Just as the sun began to glow over the horizon, pink hues were cast over the still landscape. Morning mist hung in the air, the cooling feeling kissing his skin.

A warm, orange sunrise tints his cheeks as he gazes at you in your bedroom, from his hiding spot on your balcony. Taking a breath, he opens the french glass door. A smile spreads over his lips as a breeze blows past him.

A single rose nestled between his fingers looked delicate compared to his strong hands.

Taking a deep breath, he bent forward and placed the flower next to your pillow.

With a whisper of wind, he left his love as he left the room.

Dreams and kisses make one 'I love you' form in his eyes when they are merged from your lips.

The air was heavy with humidity and the sky was painted with orange, pink, and tangerine hues. The light that reflected off the shimmering shadows around you slowly sank below the horizon as you.

A glass of red wine in one hand, you watched from your balcony as he emerged from the hills after working in the stables. Shirtless, he headed up to a spotlight near the tree line, pulling off his glove before running his fingers through his hair.

The soft petals caressed your fingertips as you slowly sank down into the mattress, a smile pulling at your lips as you felt the sudden rush of adrenaline, as if the night whispered in the breeze that things were going to be different from now on. He had given you proof of his love, and now all he wanted was for you to take what he'd offered, to hold onto it with him and keep it by your side forevermore. He knew better than anyone about one thing: love can never be separated from you, no matter how much the air around you sings out to carry his love with you.

In order to embrace this step in your friendship, it took more than just time; it required action as well. He gave you an exit that allowed you to see and feel his love without being forced to confront him; he left his words in this letter, giving you the upper hand.

Taking a moment to savor the memories of the day Bucky entered your life was a joy you recorded. The soft voices of joy and the ever-growing bond between you were evident. A giggle escaped your lips as you ran your fingers over the rose's velvety petals. When it comes to your feelings, he is the heart of it.

You can only watch for so long before dreaming of running your fingers through his hair. Pulling off his shirt, he stripped in front of a spotlight, showing off his body to nature. The sun highlighted his silhouette as he walked closer, to reveal tan skin adorned with sweat and dirt. 

The purpose of being outside is to tease him since he sees you. It's not like you walked from that spot to see if he could glance through your window or balcony. You were playing this game of riding with soft gazes, teasing.

You knew that it was wrong to play a game like this, but you couldn't help yourself. In your position, no one played games with the employees, but who has the authority to tell you no. Your body felt a burning sensation as it encounters the one person that makes it feel the meaning of lust and desire.

You felt your heart flutter as you realized what he meant. You wanted to tell him, but the words stuck in your throat. You know you crossed the line that night but what happens if you cross the line every night? 

Your family was left speechless when Bucky declined the prize money, saying he wanted something more precious than money asking only for  a single rose.

To him, you were the most valuable flower in the world.

The fire inside of me is being built patiently and carefully by you, and I eagerly anticipate the day when it is fully ignited.

Seeing you from the balcony, he stepped closer to get a better glimpse of you from below and saw your fingers tug at the brim of his hat. 

His blue eyes darkened, he called your name with a moan. To give him a little show, you slowly unbuttoned your blouse by sliding the buttons through their tiny loops. His eyes were fixed on you intently, watching every move you made. Shadows were cast on the wall behind you as the last sun rays glinted off your exposed skin. As the light faded, you stood proudly.

There was a whisper of wind around the two of you. 

You both watched each other attentively. 

To the sound of rushing air, he waited patiently while you undid them slowly. When you approached the railing closer to your balcony, your blouse fell to the floor. It was hard not to smirk at his eyes that roamed around you and looked behind him to ensure no one could see this beautiful painting he was seeing.

To start time, you blew him a kiss and yelled, "One".

Time was ticking away, and if he didn't act quickly, his chance would be gone. 

You caught his gaze in surprise. As the cool stone of the wall pressed against his hands and feet, he realized it wasn't a dream, but reality. 

You steady yourself on the door frame with one hand while the other grasps the blinds. He heard you yell "Two!" 

A journey was being set out, and he was determined to follow it wherever it led.  The power of your kiss drove him to scale the wall.

Not like last time. Last time he lost his opportunity. 

Love remains, despite time's passing.

Bucky saw you sob that night, tears dripping down your face as your ex-boyfriend’s words sunk in. You were nothing more than an object to him, and he told you so. 

His hands were strong and calloused as he grabbed yours, yet his touch was gentle and caressing. As he smiled, his eyes showed respect, love, security, safety, and patience. When he released your hands, his fingertips gently touched the side of your face before finding your lips.

Slowly and deliberately, the kiss deepened with an intensity that left you both trembling. 

But you ran. You left.

The next morning you ran to leave abroad, and all he could do was watch you go.

From that point forward, he devoted himself to becoming the kind of man who deserved someone like you in his life. In spite of all the advances he received, he refused to accept any of them.

The memories of the day you left melt my heart, I will never be able to forget you, I feel the nights so cold without you, and I keep hoping that I'll see you again soon

This is because he knew your kiss was the only one capable of bringing him the same amount of happiness. He worked hard at your parents' ranch until he was the star.

He waited to taste your lips again.

And now he gets that opportunity.

Bucky's strong hands gently yet firmly grasped your waist; the warmth of his touch sent a tingling sensation up your spine. He turned you around so that you faced him, the blue eyes you had imagined finally appearing before you. All the laughter, knowing you could always rely on him as a friend, him wanting to be yours, and you wanting to be his. 

Moving closer, he inhaled slowly, as if stalking his prey. His lips parted a little as he took in all of you.

His chest glistened in the light like a pane of glass, and his chest was covered with streams of sweat, reflecting the light like tiny diamonds. His touch was like a caress of liquid fire on your body, sending sparks of pleasure through your veins. You clung to his neck tightly, wanting to stay there forever. 

You knew why he'd reprimanded you for being sassy earlier—but when he looked at you with such hunger and desire, it felt like something greater was at stake.

Before yesterday, Bucky always stood by you, and he will stand by you tomorrow as well. 

In a whisper, he spoke four simple words: “My lips need kisses." 

You smiled to yourself and replied softly, "Let me finish counting. Three!”

His warm fingertips traced delicate circles on your neck nape as his hands reached your shoulders. You felt a sense of security as he gently yet firmly held your hand in his, and then delicately kissed its soft surface. With eyes closed and breath held, you savored the tender sensation of his lips on your skin.

He smirked as you open your eyes and see him. "Four seconds left," he says.

As you stand close to him, he moves down to kiss your lips and instead moves to your check.  Grabbing your throat, "Five, pretty boy," you tease him. You felt the heat of his breath tickle your earlobe as he hummed softly before placing a gentle bite just below your collarbone.

You opened your eyes and saw him licking his lips, a smirk playing across the corners of his mouth as he seemed to revel in the quiet. Through the still air, you heard your own soft whisper, "Six! You're running out of time Bucky. What's happened to winning?" 

His thumb shifted under your chin, tilting it towards him.

"Seven!" you softly whisper into the air.

A gentle touch, a kiss, a rush, a flame ignited, an unstoppable passion.

His mouth suddenly slams into yours, and you felt his tongue sliding into your mouth as he parted his lips. Moaning into the kiss, you felt him deepening it and he is wet, messy, and desperate.

In that moment, everything else melted away; the heat of the moment, the rush of desire; it's the kiss that ignites your heart.

"Think you can handle another one, Sweetheart?" he hummed between your lips. 

"Bucky, you win. You've got it all, and all the kisses."

A passionate lust for him consumed you, and you cannot resist it. You reach for his face and pull him in for a second intense ferocious kiss. You let him inhale every kiss from your lips into his. Your gaze flitted over his eyes and you saw the reflection of desire and hunger.

“I'm gonna ride you, Mr. Cowboy” you whispered breathlessly.

A smile spreads across his face as he hugs you, and you giggle into the room.

Passionate dusk pleasure covers you both with lust, spilling its mist through the night.

“Ride me, Sweetheart”

Straddling Bucky's hips, you slowly lowered yourself onto him. His thickness filled every part of you and you couldn't help but moan in pleasure at the sensation. His hands moved up to your hips, gripping them firmly as he pulled you deeper into him. With each passing moment, you both developed a deep connection; you long to ride every move with him and share every emotion. A wet tongue lapped against the tips of Bucky's fingers and wet fingers running all over your body, sending vibrations throughout. Teasing you as he marked every inch of you.

"You're such a fucking tease, you know that?" you moaned softly as you felt the electric shock pass through every inch of your skin as you kept moving yourself towards him. His gaze was hot on yours as he watched every second of this blissful ecstasy. Taking your time, you savored and you reached the point of perfection together. He swept his eyes over every inch of your skin, sending electric shocks through your body that increased with every move.

You were pinned beneath him as he spun around with your hands in his. He brushed your forehead sweat with his lips and whispered into your mouth, "Sweetheart, you feel so good. From kisses to orgasms, everything is yours, and so am I." With a tender kiss, he mumbled, "I belong to you, too."

Your feelings for Bucky were clear from this moment on; you could not bear to be apart from him. In the midst of this shifting world, you might be this lady, but all you wanted to do is ride your rider from sunset to sunrise.

Today, tomorrow, and wherever my kisses of love can lead, I dedicate my entire life to showing you my love.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bull rider!bucky #bull rider!bucky barnes x heiress!reader #bull rider!bucky x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x latina!reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x female!reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x fem!reader #sebastian stan fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky fluff #cowboy!bucky #cowboy!Bucky Barnes

[undertheorangetree]

The Last of the Dragons

Chapter Three- The Coronation

Summary- The coronation has come about on an even day.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female reader. Incest. Mention of (dragon) depression. Bitchy Cregan Stark. Cunnilingus. Fingering. P in V sex. Descriptions of child sexual abuse. Aemond’s brothel trauma. Still angsty babes.

Author's Note- This chapter is a beast besties (10.3k😬) brace yourselves. Link to the full story belowwww

series masterlist

This high up, surrounded by nothing but the mist of the clouds and the frigid air, she feels as though she could go anywhere. It would be easy. One word and Silverwing would turn and fly across the Narrow Sea, deliver them both to the Free Cities. She could live well enough in Pentos or Myr, surviving off the good will of others and the menace that comes from her dragon. It would be an easy life, one that is becoming more and more appealing as the descent brings them lower, but she does not have Silverwing turn. Instead they continue their descent over Blackwater Bay, casting a dark shadow over the half repaired city below them before landing before the ruins of the Dragonpit.

It has yet to be touched since the storming of the pit, only the bodies having been cleared away, graves dug for the Dragonkeepers nearby. Being here makes her feel sick but it is the only place near enough to the Red Keep that can accommodate a safe landing. Even here though, it is difficult, Silverwing hovering in the air for a moment before finally managing to find a place clear enough of rubble to land comfortably.

Ser Willis Fell is waiting for them nearby, sitting proud atop his horse with the reins of another clutched in his fist. He inclines his head in greeting when she looks his way but she takes her time in dismounting. She stays in the saddle for a moment too long, only coming down when Silverwing lets out a mildly irritated huff, more than prepared to return to her nest after flying for so long. Though she loves to fly, she has noticed her dragon longing more and more for her nest these past few months. She has assumed that the loss of Vermithor, of her mate, has made her melancholy and she cannot find the heart to push her when she is so clearly devasted. They are two fragile beings now, broken and battered, and she can do nothing but pray that their bond will help get them through this.

Silverwing drops her head when she finally dismounts and she raises a hand to her muzzle, running it over warm dragonscale. Silverwing lets out another huff, bathing her in the smell of sulfur and ash with her breath and she lets her forehead rest on the dragon's nose for a moment. She breathes in the comforting smell of dragon, not quite ready to return to the Keep yet but knowing she has no choice, before stepping back with a nod. Though Silverwing hesitates for a moment, eventually she manages to depart, the beat of her wings sending the dust around them swirling.

With a haggard sigh, she turns on her heel and makes her way toward Ser Willis and the horses. They both balk somewhat when they smell the dragon on her, taking small steps back to distance themselves, but they are well trained enough not to run. Ser Willis dismounts at her approach, inclining his head, and she manages a small smile.

"Ser," she greets, acutely aware that this man was present on her wedding night, the memory forever lodged into her mind like an axe in a tree.

"Your grace. I trust you had a pleasant ride," he says, ever the picture of duty, one hand offered to her while the other holds the reins steady.

"I always do," she sighs, taking his hand and allowing him to aid her in mounting her horse.

She turns her chin up to watch Silverwing as she leaves, wings spread wide as she returns to the caves above the sea. Already there is a longing in her chest, wanting nothing more than to go with her, but instead she looks toward Ser Willis and offers him a nod, allowing him to lead the way back to the Keep.

With the coronation scheduled to happen the following afternoon, the main streets are far too chaotic to attempt to travel them. With so many lords and ladies still scheduled to arrive throughout the day, they are too crowded to so much as walk through, much less ride through on horseback or, Gods forbid, in a wheelhouse. Instead, Ser Willis takes them through the backroads, riding so close that their horses are all but pressed chest to flank. It is a poorer part of the city so she knows what he is expecting. For some cutthroat or beggar to come lunging from a dark corner in an attempt to slit her throat or steal his money purse, but other than a few bewildered stares followed by hasty bows, no one comes forward. She assumes they are all too busy watching the arriving lords, the current retinue making their way through the opposite street to so much fanfare she feels she may go deaf.

She looks over her shoulder to glance at Ser Willis, eyes still locked on the opposite street. "Who's arriving, do you know?"

He follows her gaze to stare through the awnings, squinting in an attempt to make out the heraldry. "House Karstark, I believe. No doubt Lord Stark is not far behind."

That gets her attention. She looks at Ser Willis for a moment, knowing her disbelief is palpable. Jace had written to her about Lord Cregan, every word filled with admiration and respect. He had gushed about how she must meet him, how after the war they would take their dragons and fly north so he may show her everything he had experienced there. He had raved about the weirwood forests, the Old Gods, the people who lived there. He had loved all of it but he had loved Cregan most of all. They had gotten on so well she had half the mind to believe they were brothers separated in the womb from the way he spoke of the young lord. When we go north together, he had said, you will see what kind of man he is. You will love him as I do.

She had wanted to meet him.

Jace had wanted her to meet him.

Read the rest here :)

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[cultofdixon]

Falling for you…wasn’t meant to hurt

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • The two of you grew close because the universe thought you were meant to be. But Daryl agreeing to let you help him find Carol’s daughter, he didn’t expect anything bad to happen • ANGST/SFW • TW: Impalement / Injuries / Anxiety / Restlessness

Requested by: Anon

“If you’re gonna go search for the kid, don’t go alone.”

“Fine” Daryl made his way toward the camp outside the farm house as Rick gave him a confused look.

“Who are yea takin’?”

“Y/N” He states without a second thought in mind as Rick quickly grabs his shoulder stopping him.

“You sure that’s your best option?”

“I trust her more than you, Rick. She’s more than the best choice” Daryl retracts from the man continuing his way over to the tent city they have going on as Y/N’s was on the side closest to Daryl’s.

________

“Who’s that?” Merle elbows his brother to look at the woman seated on top of the RV.

Daryl looked over trying to get a good look at her face but when he couldn’t. He gave up and told Merle not to go there knowing damn well his brother was going to holler at her.

Then later in the night, Daryl went over to the camp fire they always have going when dinner was made from whatever he and Merle caught. He went to get him and his brother some dinner only for the woman from the roof of the RV to hand him two prepared plates before he could ask somebody to.

“It’s Y/N by the way”

“What?”

“My name. I’m the “who’s that” from the other day” Y/N gave him a small short lived smile before looking down at the book laid in her lap.

Daryl stood there a bit awkward while holding the plates as he cleared his throat to get her beautiful E/C eyes to look up at him.

“Daryl”

Her smile shot back instantly making his heart beat quicken.

“Don’t be a stranger, Daryl”

________

“Do you trust Rick?” Y/N asks Daryl as he was getting one of the Greene’s horses strapped with a saddle.

“Don’t know yet, more than Shane if it came to that though”

“Ugh. In those terms I agree…I just. Don’t understand how he’s so blind to their nonsense” Y/N frowns looking over to the camp while Daryl did his thing but his attention seemed to always fixate on her when she didn’t seem alright.

“Ready. Least I think I got this shit on right”

“You ride a horse before?”

“Uh. No, shouldn’t be too hard”

“If we had the resources like the old world, I’d tell yea to wear boots. So your feet wouldn’t slip from the stirup” Y/N stared watching Daryl get on with ease extending his hand for her as he kept his cool when her smile practically shot him. “Don’t do anything too crazy, cowboy”

“Wouldn’t dream of it” Daryl chuckles lightly as his mind was running miles at everything she did, even if it was the smallest thing of wrapping her arms around his waist. “Alright, let’s get”

God I really hate horses Y/N thought as she held onto Daryl for dear life wishing they went on foot.

I can’t focus On the other hand, Daryl’s mind raced having her this close.

But a good thing can’t last forever in the end of the world.

________

Daryl cared, but he also didn’t. In the moment he didn’t care about anybody else except her when he returned from Atlanta to find out a herd was crashing through.

Not that she needed any help given every walker that came toward her, met the short end of the stick.

Once the horror show came to an end and many were mourning, Y/N dropped her axe before falling to her knees and trying to wrap her head over all the happened. Her mind was flooded until she felt hands carefully take a hold of her face. Her eyes instantly locked onto his piercing blues.

“Are yea bit?” Daryl frowns waiting for her to answer as she shook her head, bringing a whole wave of relief. “Alright, c’mon. Let’s get yea cleaned up”

________

They can handle anything

Daryl jolts awake in a bit of a haze feeling the pain in his side realizing he was impaled by his own arrow. But given the racing situation at hand, it didn’t remain in his side as he quickly pulled it out while scrambling to get his crossbow in order to shoot the walker getting dangerously to Y/N’s unconscious form.

The second he landed the shot, Daryl dropped his crossbow rushing the best he could over to Y/N and rolling her onto her back noticing the branch embedded in her side.

“Fuck” Daryl frowns removing his shirt wincing when he agitated his injury and wrapping it around her middle to secure the branch. “Wake up, wake up, WAKE UP” he didn’t meant to shout so loud at the last part but it got her to jolt awake wincing in pain immediately. “Sorry. I’m sorry”

“W-…What a way….t-to wake a dying p-p…person” Y/N scoffs wincing more feeling the branch move when she took a breath.

“Y-Yea ain’t dyin’”

“H-Hurts…though” Y/N finally got a deep breath in, exhaling slowly feeling his fingers press against the pulse point on her neck. “Mm still here…”

“Yea better be by the time we get back”

Y/N couldn’t even wrap her head around that thought. Of making it back alive. She thought she was going to die there or on the way back, but given how hard Daryl was trying and the anxiety laced in his voice. Even with how much he’s talking…she’s not going to feed into the seeds of doubt and let him try, hell…she’s still trying.

“Can’t move yea too much…gonna have to go the long way”

“H…How’d we even…?”

“Stupid goddamn h-horse” Daryl winced to his pain when he tried to get up so he could help her up. Y/N carefully pressed her hand to his injured side getting another wince out of him and when she removed her hand she saw the blood.

“You can’t die for me” The first clear thing she’s said since the fall and Daryl didn’t know what to say. The anger that always laid dormant in him at times, started to peak out when his mind raced to the conclusion that he’s not going to listen to her if she starts talking about leaving her behind.

“F-Find something”

“What?”

“F-…Find ah…” Y/N laid back again in the dirt looking around locking onto the walker he had killed to keep her from getting bitten. “S-Stop the bleeding. T…Ta…Take his s-shirt”

He would listen to her direction but find himself yelling at every moment she closed her eyes. They were both weak, but he’s the only one capable of getting them out of there.

Daryl took the shirt and secured it to stop the bleeding on his side. Then he decided to take the dead’s pants thinking if he could climb up from where they fell while Y/N was wrapped to his back, then they could follow the same tracks that got them there instead of trying a whole new route. But that meant having to cut the branch shorter and warning her was the easy part.

Feeling her nails dig into his arm as he used his knife to shorten the branch on either side…listening to her scream in agony and the blood continued to seep through his shirt that was supposedly secured around her. He was in hell.

Y/N tiredly watches the creek disappear as Daryl carries her on his back taking his sweet ass time climbing.

“Gonna get Hershel, to check on yea.”

“You…”

“Me? Me what? Me too? Yeah no shit. None of’em out there are gonna let me walk around bleedin’”

“…s-someone needs to care”

Daryl was reaching the last stretch in climbing when she said that. He was confused on what she meant but when he finally got onto the main path pulling the rest of her up and beside him. Y/N had gone unconscious again. She wasn’t finished and he wasn’t happy seeing her eyes closed.

“Come on” Daryl shakes her at first, trying to keep the yelling at a minimum because the only thing it’s going to do is draw more sickos toward them. But he wasn’t getting anything immediately. “Y/N?” His fear started to get him as he gently brushes the hair out of the way of her face shaking her head carefully. “Please. Please. I can’t lose you. I can’t.” His voice cracked, his tears were threatening to spill over.

It took a second but she tiredly opened her eyes reaching forward and grabbing a fist full of his tank top.

“Tired…” She sighs feeling his hands rest on her face. “Sorry”

“You’re not allowed to die, alright? I’ll kill yea if you do”

Even in a weak state she couldn’t help but laugh to such.

Soon they were on their feet, Y/N’s arm draped over Daryl’s shoulders as he kept her up the best he could while they made their way back.

“Walkers!” Andrea yells catching everyone who was outside’s attention.

As Rick, Shane, Glenn, and T-Dog grabbed their guns and made their way to the walkers given there was only two. But Andrea decided to take the hunting rifle and get ready to take at least one of them out.

“Andrea don’t”

“Shut up Dale”

Y/N groaned touching her side to see the fresh blood coming out as she gave Daryl a worried look while he kept a stern one. He wasn’t stopping. Then her anxiety got the best of her right when the four approached them aiming their gun.

“That’s the second time you aimed that thing at me” Daryl huffed.

“Oh my god Y/N” Glenn frowns noticing her injury then they all were startled by both Y/N shoving Daryl off and her falling back when the shot rang through. “Holy FUCK!”

The group that rushed over surrounded Y/N as Daryl weakly looks up from his fallen position noticing her unmoving form. He couldn’t quite pick out what they were saying as he tried to get himself off the ground. Eventually T-Dog approached him with an extended hand.

“C’mon man. We gotta get you checked out”

“Is she—-“

“She’s still breathing” T-Dog reassures him as he got Dixon back on his feet bringing his arm around his shoulders. “The hell happen?”

“Goddamn horse” he scoffs feeling his anger bubble inside himself when watching Shane carry Y/N sprinting toward the house.

Daryl found himself at the dining room table letting Maggie do his stitches while the room that once had Carl, now had Y/N being worked on by Hershel with help from Patricia. He anxiously waited and winced every now and then when Maggie pulled a bit too tight on her stitches. She’d apologized immediately.

“Yer dad is good right?”

“Yes. For someone who originally only worked on animals” Maggie states applying the bandage as Daryl immediately got up leaving the house and approaching the camp.

“Who the fuck fired?”

Everyone grew tense with the tone he took as it was obvious given her avoidance to eye contact when he brought it up.

“Who. Shot. Their. Gun.”

“Andrea” Glenn blurted as Dale smacked him in the arm. The guy was nervous. He wasn’t about to lie for her.

“I’m sorry Daryl! You two looked awful and from afar—like walkers. I had to protect—-“

“FOUR OF YALL CAME TOWARD US. WE DIDNT NEED SOME TRIGGER HAPPY BITCH TAKE CARE OF IT” Daryl snaps as Rick stepped between them pushing him back gently keeping mind of his own injuries.

“Look. You’re upset. We all are. We’re worried about—-“

“Nah. She wouldn’t have gotten hurt if you had just trusted me to take care of business by myself. I shouldn’t have taken the one person I care about in this goddamn apocalypse” Daryl clenched his jaw moving his gaze to the floor. “I’m leavin’ if I lose her” he whispered.

“Daryl”

The two quickly turned to Maggie as she kept a relaxed expression but the tension in her shoulders struck Daryl’s anxiety.

“We need you”

Daryl quickly ran toward the house and barging into the room noticing the branch was still in Y/N’s side.

“Why the fuck haven’t—-“

“I stabilized it but she woke up, screamed at us wondering where you were—-“

He didn’t say anything all he did was instantly to go to her side noticing the color that left her face from the blood loss, and the bullet graze on the side of her face.

“D-Daryl. It h-hurts” She whined with tears streaming down her face as Daryl held her hand trying not to fall apart.

“He’s gotta take it out and access yea, sunshine”

“P-Please. Don’t leave”

“Wouldn’t dream of it” Daryl states giving Hershel a look for him to get started as he watches the doc move the bandaging showing the branch that still needed to be pulled out. His heart was pounding in his chest holding Y/N’s hand knowing in a split second he’s going to have to hold her shoulders.

Which happened to be now. Hershel started to pull the branch out and Y/N tried to fight Hershel wanting him to stop but he kept repeating “almost there”. Daryl brought his hands to her shoulders pinning her down as Patricia held her legs down to keep the movement at a minimum. She clawed at Daryl’s arms crying in pain as he knew he would be hearing her screams whenever something went wrong in the future.

Once the branch was removed, the blood poured in new places that weren’t where the clamps were. Leading Hershel to apply pressure immediately while Patricia scrambled to get what they needed. Daryl relaxed but tensed instantly when Y/N’s breathing slowed…slower than normal.

“Goddamn it” Daryl frowns holding Y/N’s face shaking her slightly. “Come on come on come on!” He shouted startling everyone as Hershel took notice and quickly checked her pulse while Patricia kept the pressure.

“Son, you know CPR?!”

“What?! Nah. No she don’t need it. She’s just—-“

“You need to do it or she’ll die”

Then the sound went out in his head. Daryl instantly started to do CPR and tried his best not to instantly break her ribcage with the pressure he was building up to. His shoulder was grabbed when Hershel finished his work and checked her pulse. He did good. Daryl did good.

“She’s gonna be unconscious for a while” Hershel states, about a few hours later as it was now the evening. Daryl hasn’t left her side and he mainly said that in hopes he’d get up to walk around a bit. But he didn’t want to face anybody. “She lost a lot of blood and it’ll take a while—-“

“Use mine”

“Pardon?”

“I’m fucking universal. Take some of mine to help her”

________

“He seriously did that?” Y/N questions Daryl as the two were sitting alone in the room they were sharing at the CDC.

“Got a lot of money out of it”

“But that’s not safe. Taking three pints? How did you not go into shock?”

“Who said I didn’t?”

“Daryl, I’ll fucking kill you if you ever gave me your blood”

“Huh?” Daryl was confused on what she meant and Y/N was getting at, if the situation asked for it. She wouldn’t want him to bleed himself just for her to live. “You ain’t gonna lose a fuckton of blood. Won’t let it happen”

________

Three pints. Fucking moron.

But Hershel only took one a day and gave it to Y/N, letting Daryl take the couch in the living room to recuperate after each transfusion. He had to be a human blood bag, Hershel couldn’t calculate a pint so he had a cut off period. Meaning 3 pints could’ve been less than what was taken.

Daryl didn’t have to give anymore and found himself back in the chair beside the bed staring blankly at the window seeing the group take advantage of the luxury of the Greene farm. Part of him knew it wasn’t going to last. Something in him was leaning toward that, but he wasn’t going to lose her if something bad were to happen.

He flinched to feeling something as he brought himself to cross his arms turning toward her thinking it was just a breeze. But when he noticed her open eyes and extended hand, it was her.

“Holy shit. Holy SH—“ Daryl cut himself off when Y/N brought her finger to her lips to shush him as he leaped out of the chair dropping to his knees directly beside the bed dropping his head onto the bed. She instantly wrapped her arm around his shoulders as her other hand carefully reached over to run her fingers through his hair. “Thank god. Thank fucking god”

“Dar…your arm is bruised”

“Don’t…don’t worry about it, sunshine. I had to do what I had to do”

A sigh escaped her lips making him turn his face toward her as she gently caresses his face watching him relax to her touch.

“I’m always going to worry about you”

“Y/N…you almost died” His voice cracked as her expression saddened gripping the back of his shirt tugging at him. Daryl got the idea as he pulled himself up letting Y/N wrap her arms around him as they both kept in mind their injuries.

“I’m not going anywhere…has to take a lot to take me away from you”

“I love you…I loved yea since I first met you…”

Y/N held onto him with the strength she had feeling Daryl hide his face in the crook of her neck.

“Falling for you, wasn’t meant to be literal” She giggles feeling him pull away so he could get a good look at that smile of hers that he missed so much. “I love you Daryl”

The tears came back when he brought his lips to hers feeling her gently wipe away his tears not breaking the kiss they shared. She returned her arms around his shoulders parting from him to bring him close once again.

“I ain’t letting go, sunshine”

“Good…”

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction

[dearmantis]

Golden Crown of Sorrow

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/The Darkling x fem!Princess!Reader

Summary: After sending dozens of letters begging your father to help you flee from your betrothed and his family, someone finally comes to save you

Warnings: domestic abuse, neglectful/abusive parents, sexism/violence against women, mentions of suicide, murder, mentions of child murder, mentions of getting attacked by an animal (if you get bitten by something, even a human, get checked by a medical professional), Fjerda slander, mention of pregnancy

Word Count: 4k words

Authors Note: This was originally part of A little loss of Innocence but it works way better as it's own one shot. Also, please pay attention to the warnings. English is not my native language and I didn't edit this

"Did my father send you?" You ask as you settle in the carriage, voice timid and quiet in a way that is so unlike the version of you that he knows that it throws him off for a second.

You haven't spoken at all during the ride here, contempt in burying your fingers in the mane of his horse or sleeping as he led it away from the house of the family you were promised to, and starring at the forest or the small fires he lit to cook food during the breaks.

His gaze wanders over you, taking in the way your shoulders are pulled together to make you appear smaller, the small, almost invisible cut on your left cheek, the way you keep wincing when the carriage shakes a bit, and how your eyes keep jumping around, gaze always flickering between the window and the position of his hands.

He can't lie to you, he realises. You're suspicious and filled to the brim with fear and paranoia. Whatever happened in Fjerda has shaken you to the core and thrown you right into survival mode. If he lies to you and you find out, you will never trust him with anything ever again.

Because even if you recover from this, you will always remember the fact that he lied to you when you were in your most vulnerable state. And Aleksander needs the trust of the royal family, as much as he might despise that fact.

"No"

You bite your lip harshly, teeth digging into the chapped, dry flesh before you nod, eyes finding his. The suspicion in them is stronger now, accompanied by a bit of confusion.

"Then why did you come? What's in it for you?"

Aleksander frowns. "Excuse me, your highness?"

"Why are you saving me? Why did you decide to come here instead of letting me die in Djerholm? My own family was ready to watch me perish there after all."

There is no anger in your voice, no sadness, nothing. Just this monotone, quiet, submissive voice that doesn't fit someone born into the status of royalty.

But your gaze is scrutinizing, clarifying that every question you ask is a test designed to make him trip in hopes of revealing his true motivations. You're expecting him to lie to you. In the back of your mind you're probably already planning how to weasel the truth out of him, so all he can really do to take control over the situation and reassure you into trusting him is to reveal the truth and in turn his playing cards for this specific game.

You want him to lie, and he has never enjoyed doing what the royal family wants.

"Glory"

Your surprise is like a shooting star: Visible for a singular heartbeat, then gone forever.

"Glory?" Your eyes look back down to your knees, your hands playing with the fabric of the skirt of your dress while the volume of your voice drops into a whisper. "You won't achieve glory like this. You will most likely be punished for saving me, and I'll be sent back."

Your behaviour is starting to bother him. It was a welcome change when he first got you out and traveled through Fjerda with you on the saddle in front of him, but now all he wants to do is shake you until the words start falling out of your mouth.

He thought you were just quiet because you were scared of being caught, but evidently, nothing has changed for you after he led you across the border to Ravka.

Maybe it would've been better to lie? To tell you that he was some kind of chivalrous knight in shining armour who had come to Fjerda out of the goodness of his own heart to save his struggling princess?

"I doubt that you'll be send back, your highness," he responds carefully. He never thought about the fact that your family might be upset about him saving you. They did give you away after all, and he simply acted on the assumption that they love you and want you to be safe, like all parents should. He should know by now that many parents don't love their children.

"I hope you're right," you mumble, averting your gaze to look at the scenery of Ravka rushing past the window, "For the sake of both of us."

You sink back into silence after that, and the letter still stuck in a pocket of his kefta is suddenly heavy as a bag of bricks. It's a short one, written on a scrap of paper that you must've somehow smuggled out of the house of your betrothed. It had ended up in his mail one day, either through an accident or through a servant who couldn't continue to watch the king ignore your cries for help.

Please father. I don't know how much longer I can survive this. I dream of taking a knife to my throat every day. I'm not strong enough for this.

The next time you speak, you're less than ten minutes away from the town where he planned to take a break, your quiet voice piercing through the air like an arrow.

"Do you have to bring me to my father?"

Aleksander looks up from the documents he had been reading, a deep frown on his face. "Where else would I bring you, your highness?"

You mirror his facial expression. "You could hide me at the Little Palace."

"No, I can't. What if someone catches you?"

"Nobody would catch me, I promise. I would be so quiet, I would never leave my rooms I would-"

"No. End of the discussion, or I'll tell the coachman to turn around and bring you back to your betrothed."

His voice is sharp and cold, the stress from the last few days finally boiling over, and you flinch back from him so harshly that your head hits the wood behind you. Fear burns like a small fire in your gaze, your frame curling in on itself even further.

You don't talk at all for two days straight after that. The only time he hears your voice is when you scream and cry at night, probably due to nightmares.

Looking back, he probably overreacted a bit.

The next time you talk, it's only because he asks you a question.

You're both sitting in a tavern, quietly eating together, and while your gaze keeps jumping from the three other people around you to the door and the windows, his is glued to you.

He has collected a thousand questions on his tongue in the last few days, and his mind works overtime trying to discern the differences between you now and you before all of this. Before the betrothal, before your travels to Fjerda.

"What exactly happened to you in Fjerda?"

Your attention shifts to him, brows furrowed.

"The same thing that always happens when a woman of Ravka gets betrothed to a man of Fjerda."

In the back of his mind, he remembers the death of Princess Fruzsina. How her brother, crown prince Konstantin, didn't let anyone see her or her newborn daughters corpse when they were transported back to Ravka, not even her own parents.

"Nobody needs to see this. It's better to remember her the way she was when she was still here."

He feels acid rising in his throat.

You talk again a few hours later, attention flickering from the window of the carriage to him and back a few times before you finally manage to find your voice again.

"Why did no one ever betroth you to someone?" You ask carefully.

Aleksander looks up from the book he has been reading, a small spark of annoyance visible in his eyes at the interruption.

He regrets it as soon as he sees you flinch again, his mind immediately travelling back to that young woman completely wrapped in shroud, her small babe right next to her. Just bundles of linen, not a milimetre of skin visible.

"Excuse me, your highness?"

"Why did no one ever betroth you to someone?" You repeat, "Or one of your ancestors at least. Wouldn't that make sense? Tie you and the Darkling line to the royal family through marriage and kids, force allegiance that way?"

Closing the book slowly, he lets your words roll over in his head.

"The Darklings have been loyal to the Royal Family since the Black Heretic died."

"Yes, but wouldn't it be better to tie the families together forever? It would also help to smooth over past animosities, I think. Suddenly, the king isn't just a stranger. He's the current Darklings father in law or uncle. And the Darkling is no longer a random stranger to the Princes and Princesses either. He's their cousin."

The idea is simple and logical, he has to give you that, but he has also spent the last two centuries making sure he wouldn't be betrothed to anyone. It kind of ruins his whole "faking his death and pretending to be his own son" ruse, after all. But he can't explain that to you, can he?

"No ravkan king would ever betroth their child to a Grisha, your Highness. Not when all over the country highborn children are still drowned in lakes and bathtubs as soon as they show their abilities." The words come out harsher than originally planned, but he doesn't correct himself. "Why are you thinking about this? You've never shown interest in Grisha, me, or the politics surrounding us."

He has to wait almost thirty minutes for an answer to that question. He's gone back to reading, carefully annotating his thoughts and questions, when your voice rings through the carriage once more, almost getting swallowed by the noise of the horses outside.

"At night, when I couldn't sleep, I often asked myself if I had other options. If I could've gotten betrothed to someone else. One of the only men I could think of that were still eligible is... you. And as soon as I realised that, I also noticed that the Darklings have never married someone highborn."

There's something else, he can tell by the way you speak, slow and careful like you're holding something back, but before he can even think to push you the carriage shakes and your face contorts into a pained grimace.

He doesn't have to see the skin hidden by your clothes to know that you're probably covered in bruises and cuts, maybe even some animal bite marks.

You should rest, and he can still interrogate you later, so he slowly nods and returns to his book, his eyes gliding over the paper without absorbing a single word. His mind stays with you.

You start having an easier time moving and walking a week after escaping your betrothed and his family, but you're still visibly keyed up and stressed. Everything scares you, everything wakes your suspicion, everything worries you.

He hears you mutter under your breath sometimes, especially during the late hours of the night and the hours before sunrise, convinced that he must be asleep. He can never quite understand what you're saying, only catching a few words at a time when it happens. You whisper about wolves following your scent, of someone sending you back into the north, of shoving a knife into your neck, deep enough that not even a well trained healer would be able to save you in time.

Your lack of sleep worries him as well. The only times he has seen you truly sleep well were at the beginning of your travels. You almost slept for two days straight, sitting in front of him on his horse, his arms keeping you stable in the saddle, only waking up after he made camp for the night and forced you to drink and eat. Now, the only sleep you get is through small involuntary naps in the carriage, when the exhaustion claims you like it did in those first two days.

The nightmares that wake you as soon as you fall asleep don't help either.

You're petting and brushing the horses while the other Grisha accompanying you fill the water bottles at a nearby river, your only guard being the General himself sitting a few metres away, eyes on the forest surrounding you.

"I was surprised how much I missed you," you say after a while, your attention still fully on the beautiful horses in front of you, carefully brushing the dust and dirt out of their fur in hopes of making them a bit more comfortable, "I missed my brothers, of course, and my friends and servants as well. I missed the gardens of the Grand Palace, the beauty of Os Alta, my own bed. I missed being home and not being scared for my life. But I also missed you a lot more than I thought I would."

You don't look at him, your voice light as if you were talking about the weather.

"I kept thinking about how much time I spend bothering you, how much my own parents brainwashed me into disliking you, and how much you must've suffered because of that. I was a brat before I was sent north, I know that now, and I want to apologize for my behaviour. I can't thank you enough for coming to save me despite everything."

Aleksander is speechless for longer than he would like to admit, starring at you with visible shock on his face. It takes him a while to shake it off, to find the right words to respond to you.

"You were a child for most of it, Your Highness. It would be stupid of me to hold a grudge because of that."

He has held grudges because of less, but you don't need to know that. You're the first member of the Royal Family to actually apologize to him. Sure, you're probably only doing it because he saved you from your betrothed, but he can tell that you genuinely feel bad.

"It wouldn't be. I was a terror as a child and grew up to be a brat."

The Darkling frowns weakly, watching you carefully as you move onto the second horse to brush it.

"I was a brat, and stupid too. I heard the story of Princess Fruzsina a thousand times. I even dug through the archive to read the reports from the Healers. I know everything they did to her. I'm probably the only person alive that actually still knows, since no one ever bothers to read through those documents... and I went north anyway. I betrayed her memory. She begged in her last letter before she was murdered that they could never send another ravkan girl north, and I went anyway."

He shakes his head, responding to your words before he even realises that he opened his mouth. "You did what your parents wanted from you. They were the ones suggesting the betrothal, and they encouraged you to go through with it. If anyone betrayed Fruzsinas' memory, it's them, just like they betrayed you when they suggested the betrothal without educating you on the sensitive political climate in Fjerda and their exact traditions and rules."

"I'm a woman grown, General, and I did research on Fruzsinas murder on my own. I should've done the same with the treatment of women in Fjerda instead of blindly believing my mother when she assured me that the men in the north don't hit their wives anymore. That they wouldn't dare to hurt a girl from a royal family. I'm a stupid little girl, nothing more."

"You believed that your parents would keep you safe instead of selling your life away for a political alliance. You assumed that your family would do what they're supposed to do. That's not a sin, your highness."

"Oh, but it is!" You bite back, eyes finally meeting his. There's anger and hate flickering in your irises, but he knows it's not directed towards him. It's directed towards yourself. A weapon pointed at your own heart and soul instead of his head. "I'm old enough to think for myself, to make my own decisions. People expect it of me, but instead of using my head I follow my mother and father around and copy them in everything, playing the obedient little princess instead of developing a personality and beliefs of my own. It took a man beating me half to death in front of his men to change that, to free me of the shackles I put onto my own wrists and ankles."

Your voice is sharper than a knife, colder than the permafrost up north, and your breathing is getting harsher. Gone is the sumbissive, quiet thing he pulled out of that house in the middle of the night. "I did everything to apease my parents, to be the perfect princess in their eyes, in everyones eyes. I loved what they loved, hated what they hated, and did what they did. And for what? To be sold off like an animal to a slaughterhouse?"

A scoff escapes your lips, an unladylike sound that you would've never let yourself make before. He guesses you stopped caring. There are many unladylike noises that you've probably made while laying in your own blood, cowering from the man who was supposed to protect and cherish you.

"That's what I meant when I said that they will send me back. I had the help of two of the servant girls. They smuggled letters out for me and sent them off to my parents, but no answer ever came. The only reason why I got out is because you somehow knew that something was wrong and wrongfully assumed it was an opportunity for you to gain glory."

He doesn't mention that he knew of your predicament because one of your letters ended up with him on accident, nor does he disrupt you for any other reasons. This is the most you've spoken since he dragged you out of that forsaken house in Djelholm and smuggled you out of the city. It would be insane to cut you off now and risk never hearing of your thoughts and opinions ever again.

"It's ridiculous. Even if a miracle happens and I don't get sent back immediately, they will simply betroth me to someone else from Fjerda, like that's somehow going to fix the years of tension between our countries. I will never be safe again. I will never be allowed to stay here. I will never be free the way I was before all this. I didn't even realise how privileged I was."

There is a way to save you from that fate. Several, actually, but one of them would play right into his hands if he simply played his cards right.

Aleksander suggests it two days before they reach Os Alta while they sit in the carriage.

He doesn't do anything special, doesn't prepare anything or bothers to give a speech. It would be filled with lies and manipulation anyways, and you would probably be able to tell. He hasn't officially accepted your apology for your past behaviours, after all. He just says what he wants you to do, nothing more.

"Marry me."

Your head whips up, attention dragged away from the book you had been reading.

"What?"

He smiles. "Marry me."

The carriage is currently driving through a town, the noise of children playing and people talking filling the silence between you two.

"Why?" You finally ask, suspicion barely hidden in your body language.

He has many reasons to make a suggestion like this, of course. Tying himself to someone, an otkazat'sya no less, is incredibly risky for him, after all. It needs to be thought through carefully, which he has.

Aleksander feels like he has done nothing else other than think since your rescue.

You're popular with the people, ravkas beautiful rose, kind and sweet and obedient. If the commoners found out what happened to you, what your parents knowingly put you through with this betrothal, they would riot in the streets. It would only get worse if they found out that they sent you away from your lover.

The story basically writes itself. It would be easy to plant rumours amongst the merchants and peasants, make them believe that you were in love with him and planned to run off with him, knowing that the king and queen would never allow for your love to flourish. That your parents found out and sent you away for a betrothal to a harsh and violent man as a punishment. That he saved you because he loved you so deeply, marrying you on the road back to the Grand Palace in a small chapel, hoping that the marriage will tie your souls together forever even if he gets killed for disobeying the wishes of the king and queen.

If he does it right he can claim that your father attacked you and that he killed him and the rest of the royal family to defend you, or that Fjerdans assassinated the royal family in revenge for the failed betrothal and that Aleksander somehow managed to save you, placing you on the throne, him right next to you.

He would no longer be General, then, but king consort. Your reputation should be high enough with the otkazat'sya to balance the hatred they have for him out as well. The rose of ravka would never fall for an evil man, after all.

Of course, this plan could backfire horribly. What if you hate him after he slaughters your family? What if you don't want to be queen? What if one of your relatives manages to kill you before he can kill them? He would have to claim the throne through right of conquest, and the people would hate him for it, would turn your family into martyrs and put his Grisha at even more risk.

But the risks might be worth it. He just has to be smart.

And he'd be saving you from an awful marriage. He could be a god husband to you. He could make you happy.

Probably.

Of course, he can't confess these things to you. The best way to force you to participate in his plans is if you don't know that he's planning anything at all.

"They can't send you back if you're married. You'll be mine. I'd be able to hide you away in the Little Palace, just like you wanted."

You make a face, clearly not convinced.

"They'll just order a priest to annul it or kill you to make me a widow and renew the betrothal," you warn.

"Your highness, as much as I respect the swordsmanship of the guards, I sincerely doubt that they would be able to kill me. Besides, I don't think that they would be able to betroth you to a fjerdan man after we consummate the marriage."

The book you've been reading drops to the floor of the carriage with a quiet thump, but you don't even notice that it has left your grasp, your full, undivided attention on him.

You're probably trying to discern if he's serious, and if you should slap him for even suggesting something like this.

"There's a chapel in this town, and a small tavern right next to it," he murmurs after a while, offering his hand to you, "It wouldn't be like the royal wedding you probably dreamed of, but you would be safe. I swear it. I protect what is mine."

He watches you swallow, traces the movement with his gaze, gleeful at the visible effect his proposal has on you. He can see the temptation in your eyes, the battle you're fighting in your head.

Are you willing to go behind your parents' backs to marry him? Are you willing to become the Darklings wife, to carry his children?

You grab his hand slowly, the look in your eyes vulnerable.

His smile widens when his fingers wrap around yours, his hand moving to knock against the wood of the carriage to get it to stop.

#aleksander morozova x reader #general kirigan x reader #darkling x reader #the darkling x reader

[suuuupernovaaa]

tìsraw seyki

tìsraw seyki [tɪ.ˈsɾaw sɛj.ˈk·i] vtr. hurt (someone or something)

Anonymous Request: I was wondering if you could do a fic with reader and Neteyam having an argument with Neteyam calling the reader clingy? She’s known for being quiet and reserved and was shy at the start of their relationship, and it took a while for her to open up, so it hits her pretty hard. They make up and stuff but reader keeps her distance bcos she took his comment seriously, and Neteyam isn’t aware of how much his words hurt her.

1,560 words

I dismounted 'Rrta, my Iran, and gave her a loving hug before ensuring the saddle was tight and bidding her a farewell for now.

My riding partner, Neteyam, was already walking away when I turned to join him.

"Wait up," I called, scaling rocks to reach him. I reached out, grabbing his shoulder, but for the first time since I'd known him, Neteyam shrugged off my hand.

I stopped in my tracks, and felt my body tense all over.

"Neteyam?" I asked.

"I need a little space, Y/N. Stop clinging to me. I'll see you later."

He didn't even do me the courtesy of turning around when he said it. He simply stalked away, down the mountain and into the forest, leaving me there alone.

I waited for a long time before moving, to ensure I wouldn't catch up with him, and all the while I wondered what I could have possibly done wrong.

Stop clinging to me.

Was that something I was doing? Neteyam and I spent a lot of our time together, that was to be sure... but I thought he enjoyed spending time with me. In fact, he had taken great pains to ensure I thought that. I was naturally pretty reserved, and not very trusting, and Neteyam had worked hard over months and months to convince me his feelings were genuine, to show me how much he cared for me.

So why this change now? What had changed his mind about me? Had he just gotten to know me better and realized I was annoying, clingy, and not fun to be around?

He could have at least told me that.

It was nearly dark when I returned home, and tucked myself in my hammock to cry myself to sleep.

--

Neteyam found me the next morning, setting out for a hunt, by myself.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

I raised my brow at him. "Hunt. See you later."

Turning, I strapped my bow over my chest, and made to take off, but Neteyam grabbed my arm.

"I'm sorry, about yesterday. I was annoyed at Lo'ak and I took it out on you. I shouldn't have done that."

He seemed genuine, and he looked sorry... so I nodded. "It's okay. I'll see you later."

His apology was not enough to cover the damage that his words the day before had done. I didn't believe him - if he was annoyed at Lo'ak, there was no need to ask me for space or call me clingy. It felt like an excuse, and I wasn't ready to dig deeper and hear the real reason he'd said it.

So, I turned and ran, and he didn't follow.

--

"She's just been... weird," Neteyam said to his sister, Kiri, a few days later. The two were walking together, back from a long ride, and Neteyam was concerned.

Ever since their fight, which Neteyam had thought was so small, Y/N had been distant with him. She had accepted his apology, but he'd hardly seen her since, and when he had, something had seemed so strange about her.

She barely touched him. Her smile didn't meet her eyes. She just seemed... really sad.

"Has she said anything to you?"

Kiri shook her head. "Didn't you say you had a fight?"

"Yeah, but, I thought we got past it." Neteyam pushed a large leaf out of his way, and held it for his sister. "I said I was sorry, and she said it was okay."

"What was the fight?" Kiri asked.

"Well, you remember that day that Lo'ak was a huge pain in the ass?"

Kiri rolled her eyes. "Every day."

Neteyam laughed. "Right but, it was particularly bad, and I got my ass chewed for it. And then Y/N wanted to go on a ride but, I just wasn't in the mood. She insisted though, because we hadn't seen each other all day. So I went but, afterwards, I told her I wanted to be alone."

Kiri pursed her lips as they walked through the muggy jungle. "Is that all you said?"

"I said she had been clinging to me."

Kiri stopped in her tracks. "You did not."

"What? Was that bad?"

Kiri put her face in her hands and sighed. "Neteyam, you moron. Do you really not see what the problem is?"

Arms outstretched, Neteyam shook his head. "No!"

"You moron!" Kiri repeated. "Y/N is so shy, and so quiet, and it took you so long to get her to open up to you! You complained for months about how she probably didn't like you because she was so nervous and shy, and I told you so many times she was just having a hard time trusting you. And you finally get her to trust you, and you do this? You make her think that you think she's annoying?"

Neteyam's mouth full open and he leaned back, the realization washing over him. "Shit."

"So she probably thinks you don't like her anymore, and she's so hurt she can't even be around you. And you're here complaining to me about it instead of groveling at her feet! Do you love her or not?"

Neteyam felt like a hand was squeezing his heart. He had never loved anyone the way he loved Y/N, and he couldn't believe how stupid and careless his words had been. He didn't think she was clingy, he had just lashed out in frustration after a really bad day, instead of letting her be there for him.

He had shown her what a bad made he would be. He had disappointed her, and himself.

He took off without another word, running as fast as he could to find his woman.

--

It had been such a hot day, a swim in a cool spring was exactly what I needed. I scrubbed myself from head to toe, undoing my braids and scrubbing my scalp, until I felt fresh and brand new.

I lay in the water now, only my face above the surface, so I didn't hear him at first when he approached.

He was entering the water when I opened my eyes and saw him. A few days ago, I would have felt nothing but excitement upon seeing Neteyam - now, I felt dread. Would this be the time he would tell me he was no longer interested?

I'd been avoiding him for this very reason. I wasn't ready for it to end.

"Neteyam," I said, sitting up so the water came almost to my shoulders, and pulled my knees to my chest.

"Y/N! I have been searching for hours. We need to talk."

I bit my lip and turned away, trying to force the tears from spilling over. "Okay."

Neteyam knelt in front of me. "I owe you an apology, Y/N. I can't... I can't believe how careless I was with my words, and I can't believe I didn't realize how much I'd hurt you until today. I've been wondering why you've been distant but, I didn't even think..." He shook his head, and reached under the water, grabbing my hands. "I should have thought before I spoke. Y/N, I don't think you cling to me... well, you do, but it's something that I like. These past few days without you have been the worst of my life. I'd rather be tortured. I was in a bad mood, and it wasn't your fault, but I took it out on you. I know I destroyed the trust we worked so hard together to build up. I'm willing to do all that work again, to show you how much I love you."

I had failed - the tears had spilled over, but they weren't born of sadness. I leaned forward and got up onto my knees, so that I was more level with Neteyam, and pressed my head into his chest.

Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close to him, creating a ripple of waves around us.

The relief I felt was overwhelming. Going from being so sure I was going to lose the best thing in my life to even more sure I was going to get to keep it, it was like whiplash.

I cried and Neteyam held me tightly while I did, whispering reassurances in my ear all the while.

Eventually, we stood up and got out of the water, and Neteyam helped me get dressed.

"Neteyam," I said as he fastened my beaded necklace, "I forgive you. And I'm sorry, too. I should have told you what was bothering me, but I was so scared that you had changed your mind, I was just, um, avoiding you so you couldn't break up with me."

Neteyam shook his head violently. "Bah! Never." He took my face gently into his hands, bringing it closely to his. "You are to be my mate, Y/N. I will never leave you. You can always trust me, and you can always tell me when I've hurt you. Apparently, I'm too dumb to figure it out alone."

I smiled. "Kiri had to tell you?"

He laughed. "She did."

He kissed me then, holding me tight. It seemed we both owed Kiri a thank you. I knew it wasn't the first time she had talked sense into one of her brothers, nor would it be the last.

#neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam fic #avatar 2 #avatar twow #avatar the way of water

[coryothesub]

To Ride a Cowboy

nsfw / mdni / sub!coryo / dom!reader

“You can leave that cowboy hat on,” you instructed Coryo as he was rushing to get rid of his clothes thinking he was about to have the best time. But you had already decided it would be slow and torturous.

He had acquired that goddamn cowboy hat at the local thrift shop and now he kept parading around your apartment all day wearing nothing but his blue jeans. And that hat. The boy clearly wasn't learning from his mistakes and this called for some discipline.

Coryo was sitting on your bed, still wearing the hat, watching you undress slowly, making a little show for him. He was stroking his hardening cock and you let him have it for the time being.

Then you took off his hat and put it on your own head, instructing him to lay down. You gave him a flirtatious smile and straddled his hips before slowly sinking yourself down onto his rock hard member. You were already so wet from all the teasing therefore it was easy to take in all of his length without a single gasp.

Then you stood still, adjusting the hat.

“Please move, I need you to…” Coryo already sounded like a whiny little slut. Always so ready for you.

“Shhhh,” you pressed your pointer finger to your lips. “I'm not so sure you’ve been a good boy today. I would say you were a little tease. And naughty boys like you don't get to make requests.”

“I'm sorry I just…” 

“Hush, baby…” you licked your fingertips and gently brushed them against your nipples, making them hard at the cooling sensation. Coryo tried to sit up and grab you, but you pushed him back on the sheets.

“No hands, darling!” you hummed.

“Are you gonna be good?”

Coryo nodded quickly.

You let almost all of his length slide out of your pussy and then slowly sank back down, clenching your walls around him, before stopping again. Coryo let out a helpless moan. He wanted you to move so badly.

“Look at you, holding on so well for me,” you praised him knowing he was not holding well at all. You could see the desperate need in his eyes and that felt hella arousing.

You put your two fingers between your lips and coated them with saliva before pressing them against your clit and starting rubbing yourself lazily.

It felt so good combined with Coryo's massive cock filling you up so nicely. You threw your head back and moaned in pleasure, using your free hand to hold the cowboy hat in place. 

You started rocking your hips back and forth at a painfully slow pace, causing Coryo to try and thrust his hips up in an aching need to increase the friction.

“Whoa, be still, cowboy, or you gonna throw me out of the saddle.”

Coryo obliged. He definitely didn't want you out of the saddle.

“Good boy,” you praised and kept rubbing yourself, now moving up and down his shaft slowly. Still way too slow for his taste.

“Please, mommy! Can you move faster?” Coryo urged you, his eyes getting teary from your relentless edging. He knew he couldn't last much longer.

“Like this?” you started riding him, rocking yourself up and down as if you were indeed trying to tame a wild horse.

Coryo moaned and panted as you kept riding his dick, the sound of you thrusting against his hips filling the room.

“Feels so fucking good, mommy,” he groaned, clutching at the sheets since he had nothing else to hold on to.

“I'm making you feel good huh?” you cooed, then grabbed Coryo's hands and pulled him close. The boy immediately wrapped his lips around your nipple, panting heavily as he was getting close to the climax.

His lips felt so good on your sensitive skin. You felt your pussy clenching around him a few more times before getting your sweet release as you came all over his cock.

Your tightness brought Coryo over the edge and came inside your warm wetness shooting his load deep into your fucked out cunt moaning against the hollow of your neck.

“Fuck, that was perfect,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around you.

You took off the cowboy hat and put it back on his messy curls.

“Well you know what they say. Save a horse, ride a cowboy.”

#coriolanus snow #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #thg #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #thg tbosas #tbosas #blurb #cts post

[vivwritesfics]

Keep On Rolling - MV1

Chapter Nine

Summary: Lando's best friend having feelings for anyone on the grid? Impossible, right? She worked with them, sharing her friendship with the grid with the world via the FormulaY/N youtube channel.

After film a video including... spicy water (alcohol), everything changes between her and a certain world champion. Good thing she hasn't had a crush on him since his F1 debut, right?

Right?

2.1K words

Series Masterlist

Summer break. Y/N had never been so excited for summer break. It had been an awfully stressful season so far, with all of the needless drama.

Y/N thought she'd have a chance to talk to Max before the beginning of summer break, but no. Not yet. It left this horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach whenever she so much as saw a picture of him.

When she first started her Youtube channel, when her 'Day in the life of a wag' video blew up, this wasn't what she expected. She didn't expect to fall head over heels for a driver. Even if this was what she expected, she would never have expected it to go this wrong.

The first stop on Y/N's summer break was Texas. She'd been invited out there to stay at Daniels place. Horse back riding, the Austin murder walk and more.

Danny was more excited than Y/N was, that was clear. While he went back to Texas, Y/N had two days to go home and pack her things before her long ass flight.

Ten hours. Y/N was in the air for ten hours. She spent most of the flight with her headphones on her head, listening to music as she made plans for her Youtube channel. Her filming equipment was in her carry on, ready for her to begin filming her annual summer break vlog.

Daniel met her outside of the airport. He had sunglasses covering his eyes and a cowboy hat covering his head as he leaned against his car. "Howdy, little lady," he said in a terrible American accent as he popped the boot of the car and grabbed Y/N's things from her. Ever the gentleman, Daniel placed her things into the car and pulled open the passenger side door for her.

"So, you haven't uploaded a video for a while," said Danny as they drove away from the airport.

Y/N shrugged her shoulders. She looked out of the window, at the scenery as the passed by. "I just haven't made one for a while."

"Is everything okay with you and Lando?"

"It is now," Y/N muttered under her breath.

That week in Texas was amazing. Daniel took her quad biking and horse back riding. They rode all of the trails, on a different horse every time. Of course, Y/N and Daniel were holding the saddle while somebody else led them around. He took her out for dinner and they did all of the fun things Texas had to offer. (Well, not all of them. Isn't texas fucking massive?)

“Thanks for coming,” said Danny as he hugged her at the airport. “Do you feel recharged?”

“Definitely,” Y/N answered as she hugged him back. Daniel was always warm, and he always smelt so good.

He squeezed her one last time. “Good luck in

After Texas Y/N had a quick stop home. She spent a night washing and drying her clothes before packing her bag, ready for her holiday with Lando and Carlos.

Y/N made her way to Monaco. Still, Lando hadn't told her why he was being weird during Silverstone. He maintained the fact that he wasn't acting weird, and Y/N was out of her mind.

She still hadn’t had a chance to talk to Max. Y/N and Lando hadn’t spoken further about it since Spa. Probably a good thing; her week in Texas had helped take her mind off of it. And then Y/N made her way to Monaco. Monaco where Max lived.

She was unlikely to see him, since she was only in Monaco for one night. And Max was probably spending his summer sim racing, unlikely to leave his apartment.

Once Y/N was in Monaco, she made her way straight to Lando’s apartment, dragging her suitcase behind her. She wasn’t going to think about Max as she walked through the streets – he was going to be at the back of her mind. Why would she think about him when she was heading on an awesome holiday? Why would she think about it when she was jetting off to have fun with her friends? Why would she think about it him…

Why wouldn’t she think about it? Why would her mind not focus on Max at every second? She missed him. They were good friends and she missed him so fucking much. She missed having him around. Like with the drunken quiz video; Y/N spent the entire thing leaning on Max, whispering things in his ear and giggling to herself. He was the one to take care of her, taking the responsibility from Lando. Max didn’t have to do that, but he wanted to.

When Lando opened his door, Y/N threw herself into his arms. “Wow, okay,” Lando said as he pushed the front door shut. “What’s all this about?”

“Just shut up and hug me,” Y/N replied, burying her face against his shoulder. She sucked in deep breaths, breathing in his scent. It was comforting, he smelt like home. To Y/N, he was home.

Lando pushed her away, held onto her shoulders and looked at her face. And I mean really looked. Trying to read her thoughts. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking, but Lando knew she’d tell him when she was ready.

“Was Texas good?” He asked and he led her into his bedroom. On his bed was an empty bag, a pile of clothes beside it. There were shorts, shirts and swimming trunks.

Y/N nodded her head as she began folding his clothes. “It was good,” she replied, packing them into his bag. “It was a chance to recharge my batteries and do something different.” Y/N grabbed his toiletries and shoved them into the inside pocket. “Definitely needed.”

As soon as she was done Y/N dumped Lando’s bag onto the floor and sat on the bed beside him. She laid back and stared up at his smooth ceiling. “Lan?”

“Yeah?” He said as he laid down beside her.

“Do you remember I told you about my sort of crush on Max?”

“… Yeah?”

Y/N sucked in her breath, holding her hands against her stomach. “Did it surprise you, when I told you? Because you didn’t seem very surprised.”

Lando huffed and turned his head to the side, facing away from Y/N. “Kind of,” he mumbled and shuffled on the bed. “I mean, I’ve seen the way you interact with him, and I’ve seen that sort of smile on your face. You always look happy around him and I don’t know if you even realise.”

No, Y/N didn’t realise. She didn’t realise the way she always wore a beaming smile around Max or the way she gravitated towards him. Even when Lando was there, Y/N was always standing closer to Max.

But that wasn’t happening at the minute and everybody noticed. Whether Y/N and Max themselves noticed, everybody else did. Lando knew. He was privileged enough to not be left in the dark. And Charles. He knew too, probably more than everybody else.

That night Y/N slept in Lando’s bed with him. He had his arms wrapped around her, keeping her tucked protectively against him as they slept.

They only got a few hours of sleep, waking up before the ass crack of dawn to catch their flight. Y/N wore sweatpants and an LN4 hoodie as they got their things into the taxi and made their way to the airport. Y/N said her earphones in, resting her head on Lando’s shoulder as they drove. Her eyes were tired and she couldn’t wait to get herself a coffee.

It didn’t take long to get through the airport. In the early hours of the morning there weren’t many people trying to get a flight, so Lando only got recognised a handful of times. Y/N was more than happy to get pictures of Lando and the fans, and some of them even wanted pictures with her.

Tenerife was a rather long flight. Y/N had moves downloaded onto her phone as they flew, heading towards the Island. Before they’d put their phones onto flight mode Y/N and Lando and received a text from Carlos, informing them that they had arrived to the villa and it was lovely. Y/N wanted to talk about the Max situation. She desperately wanted to. But a plane wasn’t the place, not with how many people there were around them.

Once they made it to Tenerife there wasn’t a taxi waiting for them. There was a Carlos Sainz. Carlos had left his girlfriend in the villa while rented a car and drove to pick up Y/N and Lando. He had to wait in the car as Y/N and Lando made their way over to him. People snapped pictures of them as they walked through the airport and out to the carpark.

“Hola pollito,” (Hello little chicken) said Carlos as he wrapped his arms around Y/N.

“Hi Carlos,” she said as she hugged him back. “Is it nice? Have you been in the pool yet?”

Carlos laughed as he took her begs from her, ever the gentleman. “Of course I have,” he said and placed the bags in the back of the rented car. He did the same for Lando as the two of them climbed into the car, Lando in the front and Y/N sitting in the back. “Did you have a good time in Texas?”

“Brilliant time. Danny might be my favourite now.”

“Ouch.” Lando held his hand over his heart as he turned to face her. “Is Danny the one that takes you to every race?”

Reaching forward, Y/N pinched Lando’s cheek.

Their week at the villa was wonderful. Y/N and Lando didn’t bother unpacking before they were cannonballing into the pool, trying to drown each other chasing each other from one end of the pool to the other. Each night they ate in a different restaurant and each day they did something different. The second day they went to the beach. Carlos’ girlfriend sunbathed while Carlos and Y/N partially buried Lando. The four of them played in the ocean and Lando built a sandcastle while the others rested.

On the second day they went exploring, heading up the trails along the winding paths. Y/N and Lando allowed Carlos and his girlfriend some time alone as they explored the small shops in the nearest town. Y/N bought herself a fridge magnet and a bracelet and Lando got a keyring.

They slept in the same bed, like normal. It was too hot to sleep pressed up against each other, so Lando and Y/N slept on opposite sides of the bed with the covers off.

When the week was up, Y/N and Lando headed back to Monaco. She stayed with Lando for one more night before heading off to Charles’.

Charles had Y/N for three days before she and Lando were heading back to England for the filming of a Quadrant video. For those three days Y/N and Charles were on his yacht, sailing out of Monaco for a couple of hours.

“So, you and Max,” Charles said as Y/N laid in the sun. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“There’s nothing going on,” said Y/N as she held her arm over her eyes as she looked up at him.

But Charles knew better. He knew something that Y/N didn’t. He knew what was going on with Max.

Max and Charles were best friends; that was no secret. So, who better to find out what was going on with Max but Charles? He revealed none of Y/N’s secrets, of course, as he found everything out from Max. He found out what Max was feeling, found out why he had pulled away all of a sudden.

Was it somebody else? Did this potential other person not like Y/N? Was the way Max was feeling him scaring him? Was there an outside influence keeping him away from Y/N, or was it all his own choice?

Charles had all of the answers. He knew everything; Max hadn’t held back. He’d had nobody to talk to for the last few months, so he spilled and told Charles everything.

And Charles kept it to himself. He did that for Y/N so he only gave Max the same courtesy.

“Just wait,” he said, smirking as he walked away.

“How about you try being more cryptic next time!” Y/N shouted as Charles jumped into the water.

Taglist (Open): @sticksdoesart @eviethetheatrefreak @eugene-emt-roe @glai1023-blog @mqcherie @itsjustkhaos @chonkybonky @arian-directioner @lazybot @lpab @princessria127 @fangirl125reader @honethatty12 @larastark3107 @urfavouritef1girly @cassiopeiia24 @callsign-scully @lexiecamposv @dl-yum @savagecelery @laneyspaulding19 @formulas-bitch @teenwolf01 @gayfrog29 @fictionalcomforts @avg-golden-retriever @pxppeypianotme @ruleroftheuniverse @ferrarisbitch @ashy-kit @dark-night-sky-99 @sadg3 @asmoothoperator @formula1mount

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[shadowdaddies]

Freedom

Helion x Reader fluff

A/N: this is a self-indulgent one-shot; I've been daydreaming about riding a pegasus through the Day Court for awhile

Dried hay crunched underneath your boots, the smell of Helion’s barn - if you could even refer to the palatial home for his pegasi as such - wafting fresh apples and grass through your nose.

Stepping aside as he held the door open for you, you smiled up at the High Lord, blushing under his charming gaze. Following behind you, Helion placed a large hand to the small of your back, guiding you past stalls of pegasi until you reached the end of the walkway.

Stopping in front of a large white mare, you gasped at the beautiful creature, her stark coloring almost iridescent in the daylight. “She is yours,” Helion murmured in your ear, nipping the skin there as his strong arms wrapped around your waist.

“Mine?” you whispered, breathless as you turned to Helion with wide eyes. Full lips spread into a bright smile that sent your heart aflutter, the High Lord nodding in confirmation.

A gleeful laugh escaped your lips, hands sliding up Helion’s muscular frame to pull his lips to yours. Pulling back slightly, you let his forehead rest against your own. In a poor attempt to contain your excitement, you whispered, “can we go for a ride?”

“Of course, Sunshine.”

Letting out a squeal of excitement, you stepped aside to let Helion open the gate, following him into the stall where you greeted the beautiful creature. Reaching out a tentative hand, a surprised laugh escaped you at the eagerness with which the creature nuzzled into your touch.

“She already likes you,” Helion noted with a proud smile, moving around to the animal’s side to secure her saddle.

As you ou ran your hands along her neck and mane, you allowed her to nudge you closer into an embrace, her feathered wings relaxing behind her. 

“We’re ready to go,” Helion announced from where he stood in front of you, bringing you out of the moment with your pegasus. With a last pat on her shoulder, you released the mare and walked toward Helion.

With a gracious smile, the High Lord knelt into the hay, hands knitted together in front of him in a make-shift stepping stool. “Allow me to help you up,” he purred, making you blush furiously as you took a tentative step into his hand, swinging your other leg over the horse as he lifted you.

With seemingly no effort, Helion slid into the saddle behind you. “Are you ready?” he asked, hands winding around your waist to grip the pommel. 

You looked down at the pegasus, noting the lack of reins. As if reading your thoughts Helion patted the mare’s neck, urging her forward. “She doesn’t need me to tell her where to go. There’s a spot I want to show you, that she takes me to.”

You nodded, smiling through the nerves and excitement as you trotted out of the barn and into the green pasture. 

“Let’s go, girl,” Helion murmured, tapping the creature’s hide affectionately. Without warning, the pegasus started running with impressive speed, and you looked up to see you were headed straight for the cliff’s edge.

“Helion,” you muttered, voice trembling as you gripped his arms for any sense of security. You were nearing the sharp drop off that led into the ocean, heart pounding harder than the beast’s hooves against the dirt. “Helion!”

“You are safe with me,” he promised, his warm body enveloping yours as the pegasus dove off the edge of the earth and towards the sea below. Your stomach dropped, a small scream escaping your lips before white wings spread out beneath you, catching the air as you shifted into a glide just above the shimmering surface of the water.

Wind whipped around you, the cool breeze at odds with the warm sun on your skin. It was a feeling unlike anything you’d experienced before, a freedom of losing your tether to the earth. 

You relaxed into Helion’s hold, enjoying how the magnificent creature wove through the skies with ease. She carried you along the cliffs, your reflection bright in the sparkling sea when you approached an inlet. The pegasus shifted, wings tilting to guide you around the corner to reveal a grand waterfall pouring into a small lake.

Large oak trees surrounded the oasis, multi-colored wildflowers blossoming everywhere you turned. You were so distracted by the beauty of it all, you hadn’t recognized the stupor you were in until the pegasus’s landing drew you out of it. 

Helion slid off her back, hands finding purchase on your waist as he helped you down. Words escaped you at the serene setting before you, like something from a masterpiece painting as the pegasus approached the water for a drink.

“This... This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” you admitted, awestruck.

“This was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, before I met you,” Helion murmured, stepping around to take your hand, amber eyes focused on you as he pressed his lips to your skin.

He led you to the water’s edge, where each of you slipped off your shoes in favor of dipping your toes into the cool lake. You watched the pegasus as it rested by the waterfall, like something from a dream.

“What is her name?” you asked, nodding at the beautiful animal.

“Her name is Alzena. But I thought you could change it to whatever you please.”

You hummed, recognizing the name. “Alzena. Freedom.” Helion dipped his head, smiling with pride at your acknowledgment. “It’s perfect,” you smiled, thinking not only of the name, but everything about this moment.

Helion’s eyes glowed gold in the sunlight, his breathtaking beauty perfectly at home with this magical land. Flashing him a mischievous grin, you crawled into the High Lord’s lap, straddling his hips as your lips hovered over his own. “Care to go for a swim, my Lord?”

#acotar #acotar x reader #acotar fanfiction #acotar imagine #helion acotar #helion x reader #acotar fluff #helion x you #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfic #acotar reader fic #helion spell cleaver #high lord helion #acotar reader imagine #acotar fic #helion x reader fluff #acotar helion x reader #acotar helion

[somekindofpoet]

La Petite Mort - La Drague

Summary: Reader and Lorraine take a ride into the woods for a picnic...and other things.

Word Count: 5K

Warnings: +18 NSFW, smut, language 

A/N: The angst is coming....enjoy this while you can

LPM Part I LPM Part III LPM Part IV LPM Part V LPM Part VI

LPM - La Drague

Somehow, the day after your barnyard tryst is even hotter than the day before. Waves of heat roll off of the dusty hills, the sun sweltering above your head, making your skin burn. The cattle in the field gather together under the batches of hickory trees, their wispy branches providing thin strips of coveted shade. Getting them moving in this weather will require significant effort on your part and your grizzled veteran of a horse. 

You pat his dappled gray neck and sigh, “Well, CB, the faster we get these ladies back to the barn, the faster we can get to the pond.”

CB nudges you with his nose as if to tell you he’s been ready long before you were. You ruffle his black bangs and reach up to the horn of your saddle, hiking your leg into the stirrup and swinging yourself onto his back. You lean forward and give him another pat on his shoulder, and he picks his head up, ears high, ready to work. If he does well, you’ll be done in enough time to catch Lorraine before lunch, a thought that sends a tingle from the tips of your ears down to your toes. With the proper motivation (yours being the possible opportunity to see her naked again), one could accomplish wonders. 

You nudge CB in the sides, getting him to move toward the handful of cattle lounging in the shade. They pick their heads up lazily, watching you with bored eyes. They were so used to you and CB by now you hardly had to herd them. They had their routine. You just had to get them moving into it.

“Alright, ladies,” you yell, clapping your hands above your head, “let’s get those derrières movin'!”

They gaze at you, their jaws moving in slow circles as they chew their cud. You give them grace, understanding they don’t want to return to the heat. But they need to get moving or you won’t make it back to the house before Mr. Day returns from his trip into town. You glance down at your saddlebag, weighing your options. The fastest route is the one you decide to take, reaching over into the leather bag to pull out your revolver. You sling the cylinder open, checking for bullets in the chambers. 

You slap the cylinder back in and point the barrel into the sky, “Now listen up, heifers! There’s a real pretty lady waitin' on me right now, so I need you to get your asses in gear! I’ll even line up a date with a bull if you save me the money of wasting a bullet on the sky right now.”

The cows shuffle further from you but make no effort to move back to the path that will take them home. They’re going to scramble when you fire the gun, and it’ll take more effort to herd them in the right direction, but at least they’ll be moving. 

You sigh, shaking your head, “Well, girls, you’ve given me no choice. Desperate times and all.” 

You pull the trigger, the gun in your hand sending a familiar shockwave down your wrist. The chemical reaction in the barrel sets off a bang that immediately earns a reaction from the cattle. CB doesn’t flinch, well accustomed to gunfire. You spur him as the cows scramble, working their space bubbles until you have them all in a group and lumbering back toward the barn. You push them a little harder than normal, in a hurry to get your job done for the morning. 

When you come into view of the barn and the house, the driveway is still empty. A wide grin spreads across your face at the sight. You lock the cattle into their pasture and tie CB to one of the posts, making your way toward the house. A curtain swinging closed catches your attention, and seconds later, Lorraine is flying out the back door. You stop walking and watch her, your hands on your hips. She doesn’t slow when she gets closer to you, instead crashing into you, her lips immediately finding yours. She shoves your hat off your head in her haste, her hands and lips frantically taking you in. You respond immediately, but your shock makes your hands slow, and she’s already pushing you back against the barn wall, her fingers working at the buttons on your shirt.

You laugh into her lips, your hands coming up to stop hers, “Woah woah, Raine, slow down.” 

She stops long enough to look into your eyes and pushes into you again, her lips on your neck this time. “I dreamt about you last night,” she says, her words coming out muffled against your skin. 

You let her continue as you mull over your surprise. You knew you were good, damn good in bed. But you hadn’t expected to find her so wild so quickly. You had half worried she might be awkward or embarrassed about yesterday’s activities, but she’s nearing on barbaric the way she’s pulling at you. You realize you’re lost in thought, and she’s already got your shirt unbuttoned. You shake your head, trying to clear the haze that had settled over you. The excitement building in your stomach makes you feel like you’re buzzing, her hands running across your ribs amplifying the feeling. You glance around the open yard and begin to feel too exposed. Her father could come home at any moment and find you in a compromising situation. 

You gently hold her shoulders, pushing her back, “Wait,” you say as she reaches up to kiss you again, “Wait, Lorraine. I have an idea.”

She sighs in frustration, “Daddy is gonna be back any time now.”

You huff out a laugh at how cute she looks, her eyes wide and dark, her nose scrunched with impatience. Her hands are still on your sides, her thumbs running back and forth over your skin.

“I know,” you say, looking down at her, “that’s what I’m worried about. Come with me.” 

You pry her fingers from around your waist and take her hand, pulling her toward CB. She follows willingly, only a slight pull of confusion on her face. You scoop up your hat and drop it on her head, the brim sinking over her eyebrows. She laughs softly and pushes it back, letting you lead her along the fence posts. Her fingers fall from your grip as you untie the reins from the post, and she stands up on her tiptoes to hug CB’s neck.

“Hey, handsome,” she says, and he glances at her, then back to you. 

You pull yourself onto his back and offer your hand to her, but she frowns up at you, your hat sliding down into her eyes again.

“I can ride on my own, you know.”

You shake your head and laugh, “I know that, but we’re in a bit of a hurry at the moment. Are we not?”

CB stomps and shakes his head to accentuate your point, ever the wingman. Lorraine shrugs and reaches up, letting you pull her up onto his back in front of you. You pluck your hat from her head and place it back on your own, and she leans back into your chest. With her body flush against yours, you feel the heat in your belly begin to glow, every nerve standing at attention. The reins gathered in one hand, you pull to the side, telling CB to turn and begin walking down the fence, away from the house. Lorraine drops her head back to rest on your collarbone, and you can’t help but kiss just below her ear, making her shiver despite the blazing sun. 

“I hope you’re takin me where I think you’re takin me,” she mumbles, closing her eyes, her body gently rocking side to side with CB’s steps. 

You smirk, already knowing where she’s thinking, “I am.”

You guide CB through a thick line of trees, picking your way along a trail you’ve all walked many times before. You hardly have to tell him where to go; he knows his destination now that you’ve pointed him in its direction. He slowly makes his way through the trees and underbrush, plodding along obediently. Lorraine is quiet and relaxed, every few minutes, she runs her palms up and down your legs, giving you goosebumps under the denim. You break through into a clearing, and Lorraine sits up, knowing this is your stop. A large pond is hidden away there, only accessible through the clearing. You pull CB to a halt, and she slides off his back with you just behind her. 

You turn back to him to pull the blanket roll off the saddle and a small bundle out of the saddle bag. Lorraine scratches his nose and plants a kiss between his nostrils when he drops his head to her. 

You pat his rump, “Alright, buddy, go do horse stuff, I’ll see ya soon.”

He sidles through the clearing to the grass near the pond and ducks his head down to snack. You unroll the blanket and lay it in the grass, the trees around the clearing providing shade in the shapes of branches and leaves. You set the bundle from your saddlebag on the corner of the blanket and start to pull your boots off. Lorraine watches you curiously, until she understands what you’re doing and follows suit. You’re down to your underwear by the time she gets the picture. Her eyes are trained on you as she unties her shoes, watching you closely as you strip out of your remaining clothes. She licks her lips, hurrying her hands.

You grow impatient and sprint to the water bank, striding in knee-deep and diving in, the cool water washing over your head. When you resurface, Lorraine is in her underwear at the edge of the water, chewing on her cheek.

“Well, now is a weird time to get shy,” you call out, smiling wide.

She shrugs and shakes her head, sighing. She glances around into the surrounding trees, stretching up on her toes to see further into the dense brush.

“You just tried to strip me down in front of your house not thirty minutes ago, and you’re worried now?” You tease her, backstroking further out into the water.

She throws her hands up in defeat and strips down, tossing her clothes back toward the blanket, and wades in. 

“It’s cold!” She yelps, hesitating ankle-deep.

You swim up to a point where you can stand with your shoulders just breaking the water, wind back, and swing your arm, splashing her in a wave. She squeals and tries to retreat, but you’re already grabbing her around the waist, pulling her into the water. You fall backward, dunking both of your heads under, and let go of her. When you surface, she’s spluttering and pushing her hair out of her face, wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands. You expect to be chastised, but instead, she opens her eyes and lunges at you, splashing your face and giggling. 

She stays a few feet closer to the shore, unable to stand with her head above water at your depth. You watch her for a moment, committing to memory the way the water droplets run down from her hair over her cheekbones and her faint tan lines around the collar of her neck. She stops laughing as you take her in, biting her lip and moving toward you. She has to swim to you, and when she reaches you, she wraps her arms around your neck to keep herself above water. You hold her waist as her legs wrap around your torso, and you quickly remember why you’d trekked all the way out here. This time when she kisses you, you don’t stop her.

You carry her a few steps closer to the shore, your hands sliding down to hold her weight. The water ripples around your bodies as you grow more frenzied, her hips rolling into your stomach, her hands on your jaw. For a split second, you worry that you could get used to this, having her like this, and lose her. The thought flits through your mind, making you falter, but when she sighs into your mouth, the sentiment dissolves like sugar under your tongue. You stay there a bit longer, enjoying her tongue on yours, your skin relishing in the cool dark water, the sun drying your hair and shoulders. It can’t last long because you want more from her, and she’s demanding more from you. You carry her out of the water and over to the blanket, where she unwinds herself from you and lays down, pulling you on top of her. You kiss her lips again, groaning at the feeling of her against your stomach. 

You dip your head to her neck, licking at her skin, and her hands slide over your back, exploring your body, familiarizing herself with the valleys and canyons between your bones. She’s calmed a bit now that you’re pressed into her, her breathing slowing and her eyes less wild. You, on the other hand, are growing in intensity, starving for more of her, inching your way down her body, tracing the constellation of bruises you’d left on her the day before, ensuring they stay another day. You make a brief stop at her breasts, biting and sucking at each nipple before moving on, kissing your way down to her hip bones. You take your time making your way across her body, intent to learn more of her triggers, commit them to memory to recall any time she beckons you to her. 

She likes it when you bite, but not hard. Just enough to leave a light imprint of your teeth, and she likes it when you soothe the mark with your tongue and lips. She responds to your hands wandering over her skin, positive feedback in the form of a caught breath when you reach up to her breasts as your mouth makes its way to her belly button. Her nails dig into your skin, but when yours press into her, she gasps, and her hips stop, telling you to be more gentle. She likes to see you glance up at her as you make your descent, her hand pushing your hair out of your eyes so she can see you kissing the insides of her thighs. She’s especially fond of you pressing a kiss to her center, your lips pushing gently around her clit, your hands running up her legs to hold her hips in place.  

When your tongue runs through her, you lose her eye contact and focus on the more immediate part of her body. You push your tongue inside of her, exploring her sensitivities you hadn’t had the time to reach last time. She responds with a groan, one arm slung over her eyes, closing out one sense to heighten another. You dip your tongue in a few more times, then drag it up to her clit, lapping over it. Her feedback is loud and immediate, her hand reaching down to anchor you there as she rolls her hips up. She likes a flat tongue, light pressure, and consistent speed, whining when you try to change it up. You take note, learning her as she learns herself. You watch for the landmarks, what sounds she makes when she’s getting close, how her body writhes under you, and which muscles tense in what order. 

When she cums, her breath catches in her throat, and her eyes flutter closed, her body freezes, her breathing stops altogether for a moment, and then she’s falling apart at the seams. She rolls her hips and rides it out, looking to elongate the moment of bliss as far as she can. She pushes your head back when it becomes too much and falls limp as a wet leaf on the blanket, shivering with aftershocks running down her spine. You kiss lightly at her again, making her jump and shy away from your lips. You crawl up her body and kiss her jugular, feeling her blood pounding under your lips. 

You roll off of her and sit at her side, content to watch her regain her senses. It’s another piece of her that you tuck away for future reference; she needs time to come back around after an orgasm. Her eyes are glassy and far off, her hand absently stroking your knee. You turn and unfurl the bundle on the corner of the blanket, revealing a chunk of bread and strawberry jam. Lorraine turns her head at the sound of the jar opening, and her eyes light up. You tear a piece of bread and dip it into the jar, pretend to offer it to her, then pop it into your mouth when she eagerly reaches for it.

Her brows furrow over her eyes, and her lip curls as she sits up, snatching the jar from your open palm before you can hold it out of her reach.

“Hah!” She shouts triumphantly, smirking at you. 

You tear another piece of bread and hand it to her, keeping the larger piece for yourself. She rolls her eyes at you and dips her piece into the jar, closing her eyes and humming when the jam hits her tongue. You laugh and shake your head. This girl and strawberries were going to be the death of you. You reach for the jar, but she holds it away from you, motioning to the bread in your hand. You sigh and hand over the piece. She dips it and gives you back the jar, a self-satisfied smile on her lips accompanying the jam. You quirk an eyebrow, you don’t need the bread. You dip two fingers in and suck them into your mouth, maintaining eye contact with her while you lick the sugary preserves from them. Her jaw drops, and her eyes never leave your mouth until you’re smirking back at her. 

She leans over and pushes you onto your back, her lips crashing into yours again, her tongue running over yours. She tastes like strawberries, sugar, and something so uniquely Lorraine you can’t place your finger on it. You sit up and push her down your lap, her legs wrapping around your waist as you sit her back on the blanket. You lean forward to kiss her again, nipping at her bottom lip as your hand slides down the front of her body. You’re met with eager anticipation when she realizes what happens next, her hands running around to the nape of your neck. You slide two fingers inside of her, the cum from her previous orgasm lubricating them easily. She pulls your body as close as she can to herself, leaving you very little space to move your arm, but you’re letting her do it, a slave to her every whim. 

It doesn’t take much to have her trembling again, already sensitive and still turned on. She drops her head into your shoulder, panting on your collarbone as you curl your fingers, hitting that spot you learned she liked. She’s whimpering in your ear, and you’re fully committed to immersing yourself in the symphony of noises pouring out of her, but a sound in the distance snaps you out of your trance. You don’t stop moving, continuing to build her up, but your eyes are scanning the trees, quickly checking your surroundings before diving back into lips. She throws her head back, her eyes squeezed shut as she turns her face to the sun, and you kiss her throat, taking her in savoringly. 

You can see CB out of the corner of your eye, just aware enough to see him pick his head up and look into the trees. Your instincts are torn in half, wanting to continue reveling in Lorraine’s soft moans, slick skin, and tight grip around your shoulders. The other half of you is screaming something is off, and CB is watching the woods far too intensely. Lorraine is too intoxicating to really allow you to think straight, but when she cums, tightening around your fingers and slumping into your shoulder, your head finally clears. CB whinnies, and another horse in the distance answers him, making you go rigid. 

You don’t have time to get dressed, or to bring Lorraine back to earth, so you do the only thing you can think of in your lust fogged brain. You wrap your arms under her hips, stand with her and hurdle into the water. She screams as soon as the cold hits her skin, and you push her off of you.

“What the fuck y/n?!” She shouts, her eyes full of confused fury. 

You slap your hand over her mouth, your eyes wide. Watching over her shoulder, you can see a shadow approaching through the trees, and you let go of her again, gesturing with your head for her to look. She frowns and turns, then turns back to you, her eyes bulging. 

She slaps you on the shoulder and whispers, “Shit,” her face is washed in fear, “it’s my dad.”

You nod, unable to speak as your mind races, trying to come up with any excuse to give Mr. Day when he inevitably breaks into the clearing. You can’t think of a single thing, the haze from Lorraine’s body still making your brain sluggish and dumb. She bites her lip, her eyes racing over you, thinking quickly. Just when the chestnut head of Mr. Days' horse breaks through the trees, Lorraine splashes you and begins to laugh louder than her natural laugh, putting on a show. You pause, confused for a second, and realization dawns on you. You swim back from her a few feet and splash her back, your acting nearly as poor as hers. 

“Girls!” You wince as his voice rings out over your head from the shore. 

You turn slowly toward him, pretending to be shocked seeing him there. Lorraine giggles and yells, “Hi, Daddy!”

Her tone and face are the picture of innocence, and you thank the heavens she’s found some inner actress now. You wave your arm above the water, careful not to expose yourself. “Howdy, Mr. Day!”

For an agonizing moment, everything goes quiet. His eyes are sweeping over the scene you’ve left, the blanket, the bundle of bread and jam, your clothes strewn through the clearing. You think there’s absolutely no way you’re getting out of here without getting shot at. Then, by the grace of some holy entity, he laughs. When he laughs, you laugh too, the hysteria built up so high you nearly cry. He walks his horse right up to the water and turns her, his belly shaking with his humor.

“Ah, to be young again! You two don’t stay out there too long. There’s still work to be done today.” 

You salute him with a deviant grin, “You got it boss! Just coolin off.”

Lorraine rolls her eyes and sinks under the water, air bubbling up where she disappeared. Mr. Day chuckles again, shaking his head. 

“Y/n! Mrs. Day wants you to stay for dinner tonight, she says you’re gettin' too skinny workin' out here. I’ll see you both this evening, don’t ruin your appetite.”

“You got it, sir, I will not eat anything else until supper!” You yell back.

Lorraine slaps your shoulder when he turns his back, scrunching up her face at you, silently telling you that your joke is not funny. You giggle; the double entendre was funny, and you didn’t care what she thought. When Mr. Day is out of earshot, you relax, letting out your breath and sinking yourself under the water. When your head breaks out of the water again, she jumps on you, laughing. 

“Today I learned somethin new about you,” she giggles as your arms wrap around her back.

“Well, I learned lots about you, so we’re even.”

She tsks, “What could you possibly have learned about me today?”

You raise your eyebrows, “I already knew you were a terrible actress, what with your performance yesterday in front of your dad.”

She slaps your chest and gasps, “I am a perfectly acceptable actress, thank you very much. Plus, I learned you crumble under pressure.”

“I do not!”

Lorraine makes an over-exaggerated shocked face, mimicking yours. “Howdy, Mr. Day,” she deepens her voice, mocking you.

You laugh, having to admit the situation would have been worse had she not thought so quickly to save you. “Alright, that’s fair. But I got your naked ass into the water before he saw us, so I get points for that.”

She nods, “You did. But it was only to save your own skin. You know daddy keeps a magnum on his hip all day.”

“I am well aware, Raine. Which is why we’re in the water right now.”

“Did you mean what you said about not eatin again until supper?”

You scoff at her, “I have created an insatiable monster.”

She shrugs and leans down to kiss you.

——

The days that follow end up being much like the day at the pond. You and Lorraine wound up in increasingly risky positions, and Mr. Day nearly caught you almost every time. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he knew what he was doing, but you thought you’d be dead if he knew. 

On Wednesday, Lorraine had snuck you into her room, and after watching her write at her desk for less than five minutes, you were crawling under it to hike her skirt up and taste her. Luckily, when her dad swung the door open, you were completely hidden under the desk, and Lorraine told him she might have a fever when he’d asked why she looked so flushed. 

On Thursday, he nearly caught you knuckle deep inside of her. The only thing saving you was the backfire of the tractor you had been working on before she’d come calling. When it burped black smoke, you pulled out of her, hiding her behind the tire and leaning on it so he couldn’t see. 

On Friday, you thought you’d be clever and drive off somewhere in your truck. You set a bed of blankets in the back and watched the sunset before she climbed on top of you.  Her dad somehow passed by, saw your truck, and, thinking you were stuck in the mud, drove over to check on you, only to find Lorraine sitting in the back. Your body was hidden by the truck bed walls. She convinced him you had run off to pee in the woods, and he’d moved on. 

Saturday was the day your blissful little existence was slapped into reality. You were hauling hay bales into the barn again, reminiscing on the first day you’d finally kissed Lorraine. Exactly like that day, she was sitting on the side of the tailgate, flirting with you openly and watching you do the manual labor. It took you twice as long to unload the truck because you would push your way between her knees and kiss her, making her giggle before you’d move another bale.

When you saw the dirt cloud down the driveway, you’d assumed it was her dad coming home from the auction, but as the vehicle grew nearer, you realized it was a van, not a truck. The driver parks it in front of your truck, and the back doors are thrown open. You glance up at Lorraine and watch as she pales when she sees who steps out. You turn back to them and realize what caused her reaction. 

RJ was grinning ear to ear, his camera in one hand, the other stretched out to his side, “Rainey, baby! I’m home.”

Hearing your nickname for her coming from him turned your jaws into a vice grip. You stared at him as he approached, ignoring you completely. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Lorraine stiffen and slide off the tailgate. She lightly brushes you as she walks past, her pinky hooking yours for a split second. It would have been comforting if she hadn’t fallen straight into his arms like she was made to be there. You feel sick to your stomach. You feel naive, stupid to believe that what you had was more than just a temporary thing. You can’t look at him when he leans down to kiss her, so you turn back to the truck, pull another hay ream down, and haul it into the barn. 

You come back out to grab another bale, but a woman is sitting on your tailgate now, a suggestive smile painted across her features.

“Who’s this RJ? You didn’t tell me you had such a pretty thing hidden away out here.” She drawls, her eyes running over you.

Your step falters as she flirts with you, and against your better judgment, you glance at Lorraine. She’s not looking at you. Her eyes are burning into the woman’s head, her jealousy only evident to you. It’s comforting to know she’s jealous because it means she cares, but seeing her still under RJs arm makes you feel petty. 

You offer the woman your hand, “I’m y/n. I work for the Days.” 

“Oooh, a gentleman,” she coos, taking your hand and holding it instead of shaking it, “I’m Maxine. Pleased to meet you, handsome.”

“Pleasures mine, ma’am,” you grin at her, kissing her knuckles. 

You drop her hand and look to Lorraine again, and it makes you regret what you’ve done, at least a little. There’s anger in her eyes, and she’s still under RJs arm, but you can see hurt there too. This situation had become volatile and delicate all at once, and it was going to take a gargantuan effort to get out of it intact.

#lorraine day x reader #lorraine day #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x y/n

[little-diable]

In Another Life - Jasper Hale (smut)

After I got a sweet anon request as well as @omgbrcat lovely one, it only felt right to combine these two. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Jasper had once loved a woman, ready to marry her, but time hadn't been on their side, ripping her from their life before she could be his. But now, almost 150 years later, he runs into her again, set on keeping his promise.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, mentions death and abuse (nothing explicit), love through times, throwback to cowboy Jasper, fluff

Pairing: Jasper Hale x fem!reader (2.9k words)

Stars were covering every inch of the sky, twinkling above as if they were trying to communicate with him. Jasper found himself staring up at them, hands interlocked in his lap, head resting against his saddle. It had been another day filled with riding, making his way through the uneasy territory. 

He was working against time and knew that she could slip right through his fingers if he didn’t make it in time. Perhaps it was his own goddamn fault, he shouldn’t have made any promises, shouldn’t have told her that he’d find her before her parents could marry her off. 

But as her letter had found him, begging him to come home to find her quickly, he had known that their end was close, he could almost taste the bitterness on his tongue, could almost feel her salty tears pressed against his thumb as he wiped them away. She was everything he had always worked for, the one he would die for, there was no way he could lose her, not in this lifetime. 

With trembling hands he reached for his pocket, tugging on the crumpled piece he always carried with him. A picture of her, perfectly capturing that beautiful laugh he could hear ringing in his ears whenever he needed to feel her close. God, she was his everything, the one whose hand he wanted to tie to his with the ring he carried with him, the golden ring with a Jasper stone. 

“Hey,” Emmett slapped his hand down on Jasper’s shoulder, ripping him out of his thoughts. They were waiting in front of Carlisle’s office, ready to drive home together after another dull day. Jasper had his golden eyes set on a woman a few seats down from them, a woman whose sight alone could resuscitate his dead heart. 

“Do you see that woman?” He should have known that Emmett wasn’t one for small movements, staring at her all too obviously. Jasper had to bite down his groan as his eyes fluttered close for a second.

It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be her. 

“She’s pretty, you should talk to her.” Emmett wiggled with his eyebrows, gaze flickering between Jasper and the woman, but Jasper didn’t give in, holding still as he flexed his fingers. With a sigh leaving him, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a picture Emmett had never seen before. Before Jasper could even begin to explain his distraction, Emmett had already ripped the faded-out photograph from his hands. “Damn, she looks like her!”

“She does.” Jasper’s throat felt all too choked up as if he was thirsty for blood – unable to speak before he got to feast from the red river. He had never been able to shake his grief, held back by the memories that followed him around daily, memories he had only shared with Edward, unwillingly that is. 

“(Y/n)?” Carlisle had opened the door, calling out the name as his eyes wandered from his sons to the woman sitting close. Jasper could only watch as she rose to her feet with a soft smile, walking past him and Emmett before following Carlisle inside. 

“Carlisle?” Emmett caught Carlisle's attention before the doctor could follow her inside, wordlessly asking him to come closer. The doctor murmured something to (y/n) before closing the door and stepping towards the two men. “You won’t believe this! Jasper dated a girl like her back in the day, we need to get them together!”

Emmett reached the photograph out for Carlisle to study it as Jasper rose to his feet with annoyance fuelling his every movement. Decades ago he had accepted his fate, forced to swallow down his anger to accept that he’ll never have her, holding her dead body all through the night. 

“You know,” he could only whisper the words as he held her close. “I would have asked you to marry me today. It took me a while to find a fitting ring, but I’m sure you would have liked this one, darlin’.”

With his eyes flickering down to the ring, he let go of a sigh. Her mother had cried against his chest, begging for forgiveness he hadn’t been able to grant. Time hadn’t been on his side, arriving too late to rescue her from a drunkard whose patience had run out way too quickly, ending her life before he could come to her. 

“In another lifetime I’ll marry you, I promise you that, darlin’.” 

“Jasper?” Carlisle stepped out of his office with (y/n) cautiously following him. “Would you mind showing (y/n) around? She’s new in town, I told her you could tell her a bit about the history of this place.”

He struggled to look at (y/n), remembering the face he’d see every single day, forced to accept that she wouldn’t ever be his. Jasper could only nod his head as he rose to his feet, stretching his cold hand out for (y/n) to shake. 

“Cold hands run in your family, huh?” The second he heard her voice for the first time, Jasper was sure he'd faint any second now, it had the same drawl, the same rumble he hadn’t heard ever since that time over 150 years ago. 

***

“Are you sure you don’t want something to drink, Jas?” (Y/n)’s voice echoed through her apartment, preparing herself a drink as Jasper got himself comfortable on her couch. It had been a few days since their paths had crossed, instantly clicking as he had showed her around town, guided by the thick grey clouds and drops of rain. 

“I’m good, thank you, darlin’.” He loved the smile tugging on her lips whenever he called her that, enjoying the way he held the same power over her as she held over him, guiding the two closer together with every passing day. At first it had almost been scary how similar (y/n) was to her, reminding him of all those loving memories he had never been able to shake. By now he was simply grateful for getting a chance to feel (y/n) close, struggling to keep a respectful distance. 

“You’re quiet today, what’s going on in that head of yours?” (Y/n) sat down next to him, she reached for a blanket to throw over them both. Slowly she had adapted to his cold body temperature, trying to stop herself from shuddering whenever he touched her, torn between the unfamiliar longing she felt and the coldness he emanated. 

“Too many things you’d call me insane for.” The raspy chuckle clawing through Jasper spurred on her curiosity, forcing (y/n) to shuffle even closer. Her eyes wandered over his features, taking in every inch of his handsome face, but especially the lips she wanted to feel pressed against hers. 

“Now you have to tell me, you know how nosy I can be.” He felt her body pressing against his, subconsciously searching his closeness. Jasper found himself torn, torn between the chance of letting her in on the family secret, on the memories he desperately wanted to share with her, and the danger of her running from him, a danger to every member of his family. “Is it that bad? Are you secretly married with two children? Am I falling in love with a criminal?”

For a second, neither of them moved, caught by the confession she had spoken before thinking twice. Her wide eyes found his darkening ones, squealing in surprise as Jasper pulled her into her lap. Carefully he cupped her warm cheek, pulling (y/n) in for a kiss. Their lips moved in sync, careful at first, having to adjust to the new sensation as her heart kept picking up its beat, begging him to pull her even closer. 

“In love, huh?” He rasped his words against her lips, leaving (y/n) chuckling as she hid her warm face in the crook of his neck. Jasper wrapped his arms around her middle, eyes set on the window that gave view of the pouring rain, of the forest she lived close to. 

“What would you say when I told you that I have been alive for longer than you think? What would you say when I told you I have already loved you in another lifetime m?” She froze in his grasp. Jasper had expected her to break out in laughter, to make fun of him for speaking insane words like these. But she didn’t, (y/n) kept quiet in his hold as different emotions began to flush through her.

“What do you mean by that?” Slowly she pulled away, still sitting on his lap though with her weary eyes focused on his face. Jasper held eye contact as he reached for the photograph he had shared with Emmett and Carlisle days ago. Wordlessly he pushed it into her grasp, watching (y/n) study the woman with dilated pupils. “She looks like me.” 

“She does.” No further word left Jasper, unable to give room to the pain he felt, hoping that (y/n) wouldn’t run from him. 

“Tell me about her.” It felt like a joke, not understanding how (y/n) could focus on her rather than on the fact that he had told her about his age, about the life that was so different to hers. 

“She was my first love, I swore to marry her, but I was too late. She was dead before I could rescue her from the marriage she had been forced into.” Tears welled up in (y/n)’s eyes as her gaze flickered back down to the photograph. She traced the picture with her thumb, sharing the pain Jasper had carried deep inside of himself for decades. 

“When was that?” It was just a whisper, unable to speak with any more strength as tears began to roll down cheeks. Carefully Jasper wiped them away, softly smiling at (y/n), once again reminded of how caring she had been. 

“About one hundred and fifty years ago.” His words were followed by silence, a sillence so thick one could cut it with a knife. She didn’t move away, forced her teeth into her lower lip and kept staring at the picture. “I understand if you don’t believe me, it sounds insane, I know it does.”

“I need time to think about that.” A hum left Jasper, grateful that she hadn’t pushed him away till now. Slowly he tried to push her off his leg, set on leaving her apartment to give her enough time to think about the information he had just shared with her. “What are you doing, Jas?”

“Giving you time and space?” The confusion dripping from his words drew a chuckle out of (y/n). She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulled him down and kissed him again. This time their kiss grew heated rather quickly drawing moans and groans out of them as Jasper shifted them around. (Y/n) found herself pressed against her couch with Jasper hovering over her, not daring to part from her just yet. 

“Don’t leave me, even though I need to wrap my head around the fact that some supernatural stuff is going on around here. For tonight I just want you to hold me close, to make me yours. If you’ll have me.” A growl crawled through Jasper as she murmured the words against his lips. His hands did quick work on his shirt, pulling it over his head with hers following moments later.

“I hope you know that once I make you mine, I won’t ever let you go again. Eternity is a long time to spend together.” She was too distracted by his wandering touch to fully focus on his words, torn between the lust pushing through her and the exictement of feeling Jasper close. It was way too easy to guide her, to make her follow every command as he held her close, set on loving her through the night before he’d fuck her properly in the early morning hours. 

“Use your words, darlin’. Tell me what you want.” Her bra fell to the ground, exposing her naked chest to Jasper’s wandering eyes. He dipped his head down to suck on her hardening nipples, hands grabbing them with just enough force to leave her gasping. (Y/n) arched her front into his touch, eyes fluttering close as he kissed his way further down south. “I asked you to speak up, didn’t I? Be a good girl for me, otherwise I’ll stop touching you.”

“I want you everywhere, want your mouth, your cock.” A raspy chuckle left Jasper as his nimble fingers worked on her trousers, freeing her from them with her damp panties following. She felt like a goddess, a goddess Jasper now marvelled at with an exciting darkness laced in his gaze. His eyes flickered up to meet hers as he forced himself between her thighs, grateful for the big space her couch offered. 

His tongue ran over her arousal-covered folds, drawing high moans from her at the unexpected touch. Her bundle pulsed against his cold thumb, making her feel as if she was on fire, even though his cold hand offered the perfect contrast. (Y/n) choked on his name as he circled her clit, tongue dipping into her tightness with a satisfied groan leaving Jasper. 

He could stay between her thighs till morning rose, pushing her over the edge again and again, high on her taste, on the sounds rumbling through her. Not once had he experienced a longing this deep, wanting to hold her close till their end of time, needing to taste her at any given chance. 

“My god, Jas, you’re so good at that.” Jasper chuckled against her cunt, adding even more speed to the movements of his thumb, wanting to watch her cum on his tongue before he’d fuck her. It didn’t take long for (y/n)’s moans to grow breathy, clawing her fingernails into the fabric of her couch to hold on before she’d pass out from the intense sensation. “I’m so close, fuck, let me cum, please.”

“Let go, darlin’, cum for me.” Her first orgasm of the night clawed through her without another warning, ripping her into another dimension as Jasper supported her through it. The smile he wore on his lips was almost devilish, urged on by the chance of feasting from her. He watched her with curious eyes, waiting for her next movements, wondering where this night would lead them to. 

“Jas,” (y/n) panted his name. “I need you to fuck me now, let me feel you, all of you, I’m on the pill.” She watched him rise to his feet to shuffle out of his clothes, exposing his hard cock to her wide eyes. Her greedy hands pulled him down for a kiss, moaning at the taste of herself stuck to his tongue. She felt him brush the tip of his cock through her slit, giving her another chance to inhale a shaky breath before he pushed into her.

Both moaned in unison, clinging to one another as he twitched inside of her. Jasper started on a slow rhythm, allowing (y/n) to adjust to his size. Only as she clawed her fingernails into his shoulder, did Jasper’s thrusts grow more ferocious. Their bodies met with every thrust, letting the sounds echo through her apartment, followed by their moans. 

“You feel so good, darlin’, so fucking good.” He moaned against her lips, staring down at her with love and lust laced in his gaze. (Y/n) choked on her sobs, holding him close as her walls fluttered around him. 

Jasper pulled out of her without a warning, momentarily leaving her empty. He flipped her around, pressed her against the armrest of her couch before he pushed back into her from behind. He held her against his chest with one hand, while the other found her overstimulated clit, pushing her closer to the edge. 

They watched the rain pour from the sky as he fucked her breathless, unable to focus on anything but the feeling of Jasper buried deep inside of her. She felt her orgasm about to rush through her again, tightening her grip on his forearm as she choked out his name. Jasper only groaned against the back of her neck, trying to keep himself from forcing his teeth into her skin right there and then. 

Both came with their bodies clinging to one another, with her heart racing, with sweat pooling on her forehead and his body shaking in excitement. Jasper stayed buried inside of her for a while, wordlessly holding her close to allow (y/n) to relax in his grasp. 

“If you always fuck like that, I think I can accept being in a relationship with something supernatural.” Breathy chuckles left him as he parted from her, picking her up to carry her towards her shower. He pressed a kiss to her swollen lips, and at that moment he made a silent promise to himself and to her. 

This was another chance at their life together, finally allowing him to love her in another lifetime.

#Jasper Hale smut #Jasper Hale x reader #Jasper Hale imagine #twilight

[ladykailitha]

The Harrington Pattern Part 11

The second one for today.

There is a joust, a wild Eddie shows off his mating dance, and Steve and Jeff plot a romance.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

MY TAG LIST FOR THIS STORY IS CLOSED

****

Steve sat on the edge of his seat as he cheered each successful strike the Black Knight made and winced with every hit he took.

The kids were loudly shouting and cheering and even Nancy would leap to her feet when the Black Knight won a match.

It was down to the final match. The Black Knight verses the White Lion. They were two points each. Final run.

The horses pawed at the ground. The knights shifted in their armor as they tried to settle the joints. Every person in that stadium was on the edge of their seat, leaning forward as they held their collective breath.

The man stepped forward with the flag and eyed each knight nervously. He looked up at the king and queen. The king nodded giving his consent. The flag dropped and the man leapt out of the way.

The horses raced down the line as the knights lowered their lances. The audience slowly rose to their feet as the horses thundered toward each other.

No one had yet taken a single breath.

Then...

CLASH!

And the White Lion flew to the ground as his horse made it to the other side of the arena. His squire grabbed the horses reins to stop it from running away.

The whole crowd erupted, the breath finally released in shouts of exultation.

The Black Knight and his squire were at their other end of field, whooping and hollering as they celebrated his win.

Steve and Robin grabbed each other and jumped up and down. They hadn’t seen anything so exciting since Lucas made the final shot of the game.

And it appeared that the boy in question thought the same as he kept screaming “YES!!”

The Black Knight took off his helmet and waved at the crowd. And their entire row let out a gasp.

“Jeff?” Dustin squealed. “Jeff was the Black Knight all along? That is so awesome!”

Now Lucas was completely flipping out. No one could deny that Jeff had won fair and square. That he had the superior skill.

Steve looked over at the king and queen. Neither one of them looked happy to see it had been Jeff the whole time. But they appeared gracious enough when they were handing out the prizes.

Steve was cheering and screaming right along with the rest of them. And it was a cool surprise. Who would have thought that Jeff played his favorite sport.

After the award ceremony they were allowed to go see Jeff at the stable.

Steve looked around when he entered. Jeff caught his eye and grinned. They both knew who he was looking for.

“He’s getting ready,” Jeff said with a wink. “You’ll just not want to miss the next event.”

Steve bit his lip and nodded. Whatever it was, he knew it was going to be amazing. He just wished he had more of an idea of what it was. He looked out at the arena floor and saw that the long wooden partition for the joust had been taken down and workers were quickly putting up... what, Steve wasn’t sure.

“Just let me get out of this armor,” Jeff was saying, “and I’ll join you guys in the stands.”

As they walked back to the stands, Robin pulled out her flier of the day’s events and Steve looked over her shoulder.

“What’s trick riding?” he mumbled.

But she just shrugged. She didn’t know either.

They sat up in the stands and they talked among themselves as the workers finished up what they were doing.

The field was mostly empty except a small platform where the rider would mount their horse.

There were two horses, both black with weird looking saddles.

The announcer got up and bellowed into a megaphone.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” he shouted. “For the first time ever here at the Hawkins Renaissance Fair we have Hawkins own Eddie Munson trick riding extraordinaire.”

Eddie stepped out onto the field but gone were the puffy sleeves and thigh high boots. His costume was tight fitting and boots were soft soled. It still looked period, but it was clearly designed from modern materials which would make it easier to move in.

Strapped to his back was a lute, the same lute he had been carrying all week.

He mounted the platform and waved to the crowd.

Eddie got on to the first horse and got it into motion. The other horse merely shook its mane as it waited patiently for its turn.

Eddie raised his feet and slipped them into a set of stirrups higher up on the saddle. Sending a wink Steve’s way, he stood up on the horse and began to play.

He began singing. Horribly. Eddie was a fine enough singer for their band, but it seemed to Steve he was deliberately off key as he sang ribald bar tunes.

He slipped a harness over his head and around his waist. Then to shock of the crowd, slid off the side of the horse. Steve was on his feet, so sure that Eddie would be crushed under the thundering hooves the galloping horse.

But as the horse turned, Steve could see that Eddie was safe and still playing.

His caterwauling got progressively worse the more dangerous the stunt was. Almost as if he was signaling to the audience that he was safe.

He made it back to the platform where he handed the lute off to someone who had stepped out onto the field for the reason. They removed the saddle off the one horse Eddie had been riding and he straddled both horses, one foot on each.

And off he went racing around the arena.

Steve was sure that his heart had stopped several times, once with every trick Eddie did.

He was also pretty sure that wasn’t good for it.

But Eddie landed every trick like a pro and at the end he hopped off the platform with a jaunty wave and a deep bow.

Steve was cheering up and down as the crowd around him erupted with applause.

Eddie bowed again and with the other guy that had taken his lute, lead the horses away.

Steve isn’t sure who was more impressed by Eddie’s riding the kids or Nancy. Her jaw had dropped from the first trick and remained that way all throughout Eddie’s riding.

“Where did he learn that?” she asked.

Jeff grinned. “Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

Everyone exchanged glances as the whole gaggle followed Jeff back to the stable where Eddie and the other guy were brushing down the horses Eddie had used in his show.

The man, who on closer inspection was a teenage old boy spotted Jeff and waved. “Jeffrey! You did great out there today. Mom hasn’t stopped gushing about it.”

The Party turned to Jeff in shock. But he just chuckled.

“Guys,” he said, “this is my little brother Ollie. Ollie, you remember Gareth and Brian, the boys are Hellfire, the girls kick ass, and the two guys are the brat wranglers.”

Jonathan and Steve shared a look before they chorused, “Hey!”

Eddie laughed, but did the proper introducing. When he got to Steve, Ollie’s eyes went wide and nodded.

“Steve Harrington,” Ollie said. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Steve frowned. “From Jeff?” he asked, confused.

“No, man,” Ollie said with a laugh, “from Eddie.”

Who promptly ducked behind his horse under the guise of brushing its mane.

Steve licked his lips slowly as a sly smile took over his face. “No doubt only horrible things,” he teased.

Eddie let out a squawk and glared at him from around the horse. “Hey!”

Steve laughed and Eddie let out a little huff of breath as he pouted.

“Our parents own the horses,” Jeff said, “We have three that joust and two the trick ride and then there’s King, who was a racehorse in his heyday.”

Ollie nodded, “We usually let whoever is playing the king of the Fair ride him at the closing ceremonies. He’s pretty as hell.”

“So like Steve,” Dustin said. “He used to be called King Steve in high school.”

Steve tipped the twerp’s hat off.

“Hey!”

El giggled and Dustin’s head whipped around to face her. She pressed her lips together and looked up and away.

“Can I see King?” Will asked, softly.

Ollie lit up. “Yeah, sure.” He turned to Jeff. “I’ve got get him ready for tonight anyway, so I can I have Will help me?”

Jeff smiled at his little brother. “Sure thing, it’ll make the work go faster.”

“He seems like a good kid,” Jonathan said, “how old is he?”

“He’s fourteen,” he said, “so he’ll be an incoming freshman this year.”

Lucas smiled. “So a year younger than us.”

Jeff nodded.

“Is he going to join Hellfire?” Dustin asked, practically vibrating out of his skin.

“He wants to but with me graduating last year,” Jeff said with a wince, “he’s worried he won’t know anyone but Gareth.”

Lucas grinned. “Well he knows us now, we’ll hang out with him all summer so that come school time, he’ll have friends in Hellfire.”

Jeff grinned back. “I think he’d really like that.”

Steve smiled at his nuggets. He was glad that they were willing to take this kid they just met under their wing and make sure he didn’t get lost at high school.

He really couldn’t have been prouder. He caught Eddie’s eye and the other man grinned.

He lopped over to Steve, the grin never leaving his face.

“So pretty boy,” Eddie teased. “You enjoy the show?”

Steve nudged him his shoulder. “Of course I did. A bit terrifying on this side of things though.”

Eddie laughed. “I assure you, sweetheart, it’s equally terrifying on my end, too.”

“How long have you been doing this then?”

Eddie cocked his head to the side and thought about it. “On and off since I got to Hawkins and became friends with Jeff. His mom is the one that thought me, but I’ve only been serious about it in the last couple years. As a way to keep myself from getting too depressed about school.”

“That’s fair,” Steve said.

When he looked around most of them had gone. It was only Robin, Gareth, Jeff, and Max that remained.

“Where did everyone go?” Will asked as he came out the stall with Ollie.

Robin began counting of on her fingers. “Brian and Mike went to go watch the caber toss on the outskirts of the Fair. Dustin, Lucas and El went to go watch the sword fights. Nancy and Jonathan went to try the ax throwing.” She looked around. “Did I miss anyone?”

The rest of them shook their heads.

“And the rest of us were waiting for Will!” she finished with a cheer.

Will blushed and Eddie and Steve shared a knowing glance.

“Hey, do you and Ollie want to come with me to see the bagpipers?” Max asked Will.

Will and Ollie looked at each other and then nodded as one. The two boys followed the pirate queen, walking side by side.

“Well,” Gareth said, “I’m glad Mike missed that one.”

Robin looked over at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Mike is always jealous of anyone who spends time with Will,” Steve explained, “except El. Even if he spends all his time with her, he still gets jealous when Will gives up and goes to talk to someone else.”

Eddie nodded. “That kid has got to get his head out of his ass, before a sweet boy like Ollie sweeps our Will the Wise off his feet.”

Jeff grinned. “I like that idea!”

Gareth snorted. “You only like that idea because Mike called your thief a common rogue.”

“My thief is literally a lord,” Jeff defended. “Like Lord Kelnic is his name. He can’t be a common rogue.”

Steve leaned over to Eddie and whispered, “What are they talking about?”

“I’ll explain it later,” Eddie whispered back.

Steve nodded, knowing that Eddie would do just that.

“Hey, you want to go for a stroll?” Steve asked. “I don’t care where, really. I just want to spend the afternoon with you.”

Eddie perked up. “Hell yeah! Why don’t I show the behind the scenes stuff most people don’t get to see?”

“Sounds perfect.” Steve smiled.

Robin and Jeff shared a fond glance about their best friends and shook their heads as Eddie led Steve away.

****

Part 12 Part 13

I love jousting Eddie as much as the next gal, but I also realize that Eddie looks like a stiff wind would knock him over and would be flying out of that saddle with every hit. So I made him a trick rider instead.

I also did not set out to write Will a love interest, the love interest just shoved himself into my story and I let him stay.

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