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hornyhornyhimbos · 1 year

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"Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy" ~ S. Harrington

Summary: Reader strikes up a conversation with Steve, who unbeknownst to her, is the best bull rider in all of Indiana. When the two strike up a conversation, it turns out this cowboy has plans for Reader.

Pairing: Bull Rider!Steve Harrington x AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 5,353

Content Warning: MINORS DNI (18+ content) PROTECTED piv sex, cowgirl AND missionary activities hehehe, maybe dubcon bc they were lowkey under the influence, one night stand, oral f!receiving, fingering f!receiving, overstimulation, multiple orgasms for reader, explicit language, steve def has a power kink, alcohol consumption, blasphemy toward the Greek Gods (sorry), nicknames (sweetheart, princess, baby; cowboy, god), maybe modern!au idrk, lmk if i missed anything!

Extra Notes: mayhaps i am a wh0re

Based On: some thots™️ that me and Georgia had (also slightly inspired by this reel i watched recently)

Originally Written: 03/12/2023 through 03/14/2023

Beta Read By: @dungeons-are-too-cold (literal bestie, love u so much for working on this fic with me)

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The air smelled of freshly poured booze and a hundred sweaty bodies as you walked into "The Lucky Shot."

You spotted the bar across the giant room, marveling at the glimmering and flashing of the lights as you made your way through the crowd. Your heart pounded in time with the country song that blared through the speakers.

You weren't really sure what possessed you to go to a random bar in a strange city during the middle of your work trip. Maybe it was your constant craving for a difference in your somewhat boring career. Maybe it was the secret wanderlust that often sat in the back of your mind. Maybe it was just because you wanted a really good margarita. Whatever the case, you sure as hell weren't regretting your decision when your eyes locked on him.

He was beautiful, the kind of beautiful only talked about in Greek mythology. From the brown strands that perfectly framed his chiseled face, to the hazel that swirled around his pupils, to the beige Stetson that sat upon his head, everything about this man was simply beautiful. If Apollo wore a cowboy hat, you were sure this would be him.

Your stomach did a somersault when you sat down on the only stool left, which conveniently happened to be next to this country god.

A couple moments later, your cocktail arrived, and you caught another glimpse of the room as you started drinking. Your eyes darted toward the dance floor, and when you spotted the mechanical bull on one side of the room, you felt mesmerized by it. Specifically, the thought of him on top of it. His hips swaying to the loud music, one hand holding onto his hat. There was no way it wouldn't be the prettiest sight imaginable.

"It's all in the hips, you know."

You turned to face the voice. It was thick like molasses, the perfect mixture of sweet and rough to your ears. "What?" you asked, your eyebrows furrowed together as you finally made eye contact with him.

"It's all in the hips," he repeated, pointing his chin toward the mechanical bull.

You fidgeted with your straw, positive that if you didn't keep your hands preoccupied, you'd tear his clothes off right there. "Uh-huh," you simply said, unsure if you could get anything else out.

"Really. You just have to know how to… angle them correctly."

Your mind raced with dirty thoughts at the emphasis he'd used. You managed to take a sip of your drink, trying your hardest to wash them away. "You seem pretty certain."

One of his eyebrows cocked upward almost as if to confirm your statement. "That, I am, ma'am," he said with a nod and a tip of his hat towards you.

"Hmm," you hummed, taking a long swig of your cocktail in hopes of wetting down the dryness of your throat. "Alright, Tom? Dick? Harry?"

"Steve," he clarified. No other name would do this cowboy justice.

"Steve," you repeated, and the word felt like honey to your lips, "why don't you show me?"

His arms crossed tightly in front of his chest, the tee shirt that covered his skin becoming extra taut. "What's in it for me?"

You shrugged, sipping down the last of your drink. "I suppose… whatever you want, cowboy."

"Hmm," he hummed, taking the last swig of his beer. "How 'bout this? If you can stay on longer, you get my number. If I stay on longer, I get yours."

You scoffed, your tongue darting out to lick your lips. "You're lucky you're cute," you chirped. "OK, cowboy, you're on."

He stood first, holding out a hand to help you down from the barstool. "After you, pretty lady."

You felt a rush of blood shoot through your body as he led you to the bull, and you'd be lying if you said you weren’t anxious.

"Ladies first," he smiled, lifting you up onto the mechanical bull. His hands felt rough and big on your hips, and you nearly fell off the bull before it even started up.

The operator counted you down from three, but even that wasn't enough to brace you. You held onto the handle for dear life, moving your pelvis to the best of your ability. What felt like an eternity later, you fell onto the blue mat, your heart nearly falling through the floor as you landed.

"Five seconds," he said with your back still flat on the cushiony floor. "Impressive."

He held out his hand once again, and you gladly took it. Suddenly, you were pulled up close to him. His eyes shot through you and it was then that you noticed the musky scent of his cologne. You had to collect yourself for a moment, excusing the clear sexual tension for pure competition."Let's see you do better, cowboy."

He slung his leg over the machine, gripping the handle and lifting his left hand into the air. You couldn't help but notice how thick the muscles on his biceps were. Get it together, you thought, but he just looked so natural on the bull. Like he belonged up there. You couldn't help the feeling that settled in your chest.

"Sound me off!" he shouted over the crowd.

You and the operator counted down in sync, and his hips practically assaulted the bull as the machine started up again. You were mesmerized by the movements. Now you definitely weren't regretting taking him up on his offer.

His hips twisted against the fake saddle, and you could just barely see the outline of his cock behind his giant belt buckle and those tight jeans. You watched the way he winded on the bull, wishing it was you he was humping like that.

Even as he fell off the bull, he looked beautiful. He landed flat on his back, letting out a triumphant, "WOOOOOP!" followed by a chuckle. "I believe I hit twenty seconds."

"No fucking way," you argued, turning toward the bull operator, who just answered with a confirming nod.

"How'd you do that?" you challenged.

"I told you, it's all in the hips, sweetheart."

Your arms crossed defensively, your eyes narrowing in on him. You chose to ignore the pleasant feeling building in your stomach with his new nickname for you. "Do you hustle all the women around here for their phone number?"

He folded his arms in front of his broad chest, almost mocking your stance. A stupid, taunting smile was plastered across his face too. "Hey, it's not on me if you don't know you're talking to Indiana's bull riding state champ."

Your mouth fell open in pure shock at his words. If any one person was made for that career, you thought, it would be him.

His eyebrows raised. "You seem surprised."

You gulped down the lump of disbelief in the back of your throat. "A little."

"Should've just read my belt buckle, sweetheart."

You had to fight the urge to look down at his crotch, which was unsurprisingly not the first time you'd had to fight that urge. It had definitely been one hell of a night so far.

"Go on," he instructed. "You know as well as I do that you're curious."

You exhaled a deep breath you'd been holding, eyes locked on the giant buckle as you forced them not to wander lower. Pain is temporary, victory lasts forever, it read, with the date of the championship engraved below.

You had to force yourself to meet his gaze again. "So what do they call you?"

"The Hawk," he replied nonchalantly. "What about you? What do they call you, sweetheart?"

"Y/N," you answered, not even trying to force your mouth closed. He spoke, and you answered, and somehow, you didn't care in the slightest.

You shook your thoughts away, willing yourself to focus on what had just gone down. "You know what? Not important," you blurted, shaking your head. "I want a rematch, Mr. The Hawk," you mocked.

You looped your arms in front of you once again. You wanted to challenge this man to anything you could find. Eventually your eyes landed on the dartboard. Jackpot.

After all, if Steve could hide the fact that he was a professional bull rider, you could hide the fact that you'd been playing darts with your father since you were old enough to hold one. "Darts."

He smirked, walking toward the dartboard. "Alright, sweetheart, you name the stakes this time."

"Fine," you rebutted with a smirk of your own, "whoever gets closer to the bullseye gets to ask the other a question. If they don't wanna answer, they have to take a shot."

He seemed pleased, giving you a crooked smile. "How 'bout this? We each get a Jack and Coke and take a nice big swig of it every time we don't answer."

Your eyebrows ruffled in confusion. "Why does it matter what we drink?"

He leaned in close to your ear, his breath hot on your skin. "I want you as close to sober as possible if things go in the direction I'm hoping for."

Your airway felt tight as you processed his words. You felt lightheaded when you answered, "Understandable."

He shot you another smile before heading back to the bar for a couple drinks. Your legs wobbled as you gathered the darts. You watched his hips sway in time to the music while he waited for the drinks, and all but drooled over the way his ass looked in those tight blue jeans. And I thought the front looked good, you smirked internally.

Soon enough, he came back with the drinks, placing them on the table next to the darts. "Two Jack and Cokes," he confirmed. "Like I said earlier, ladies first."

You tossed the dart, landing almost directly in the middle of the board. He threw next, landing a little above where yours was.

Your mind raced, carefully considering every question you could ever ask him. Truth be told, you wanted to keep winning, not only for the sake of being better than him at something, but also because you wanted to find out every little detail you could about this Country Apollo.

"Hmmm. How long have you been riding bulls?"

"Since freshman year of college," he explained. "I rode horses a lot of the time while I was growing up, did the whole bucking bronco thing, so I thought I'd test the waters. See if it was something for me. Guess it was, all things considered." He gestured to the belt again, almost like a taunt, but your eyes stayed on his, cold and steely.

You threw again, the dart sticking to the single area, prompting you to groan at how bad your aim suddenly was. It had to be the drawl of his voice distracting you.

His dart stuck in the single area as well, slightly closer to the middle of the board. "I believe that makes it my turn."

You nodded. "That it does, cowboy."

"What's your story? You here for business or pleasure?"

You planned on answering anyway, but still took a small sip of the cocktail to wet your lips. "This city? Business. This bar? Pleasure."

About a half hour passed of you spitting questions back and forth. Your drinks were both about halfway finished, mostly from sipping. You had both been pretty bold with your answers, and questions for that matter.

Your arm felt tired from all the dart throwing, and if you had to be honest, the more you found out about him, the more you wanted to jump his bones. "Alright, I don't know about you, but I'm about ready to get out of this place."

He chuckled at the hint of eagerness in your voice. "Me too."

"I say we throw one last dart."

His expression read one of confusion and curiosity. "What're the stakes this time, sweetheart?"

A rush of heat pooled in your stomach as you carefully thought about how to word your answer. Confidence came over you as you finally figured out what you wanted. "OK, cowboy. If you win, I take you back to my place," you started, stealing the Stetson right off his head and placing it on your own, "But if I win, and I will, you take me back to yours."

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, eyes dark as he said, "Well, princess, I think someone needs to remind you of the cowboy hat rule."

You nearly snorted. "What the hell is that?" Your heart fluttered at the nickname, secretly hoping he'd continue using it.

"You wear the hat," he said, taking his hat back, "you ride the cowboy it belongs to."

Your thighs closed together as discreetly as possible while you picked up the darts. You placed one in his hand, your fingers shaky as you released it.

Even in your desperate state, you managed to toss the dart at the board, the dart sticking almost directly in the middle of the bullseye. "Hmm, lucky shot."

Steve's face was one of confidence, even when he threw the dart and it landed in the single area. "Huh," he said plainly, "Guess we're going back to my place."

You were quite positive he'd fucked up on purpose, but chose to ignore for the sake of not staying in your bleak, boring hotel room again.

The ride to his place was absolute hell. His hand on your thigh, his muscles tight in the flannel he'd thrown on, the sultry country music playing quietly on his radio.

The comments Steve made the whole way certainly didn't help you either. He was "sweetheart" this and "princess" that, and he certainly didn't shy away from telling you every little thing he wanted to do to you, making sure you were still okay every once in a while. He even offered to drive you back to your hotel at any point, but you reassured him you wanted this. Probably even more than he did. Hell, if the vehicle hadn't been moving, you would've taken him right there in the front seat of his truck.

From the moment he unlocked the door, he couldn't keep his hands off you. His fingertips slipped through your belt loops immediately upon entering his house. He barely succeeded in kicking the front door closed behind him as his lips met your neck.

"Aren't you gonna give me a tour?" you teased, your hands slipping into his back pockets. Damn, the fit was tight.

He snickered into your shoulder. The vibration was absolutely intoxicating against your skin. "Well, this is the living room. And I fully plan on laying you back on that couch before the night is over."

You easily kicked off your sneakers, Steve letting out an aggravated groan as he remembered his boots. "But first I'm gonna have to sit on it to take off these goddamn boots of mine," he complained, plopping onto the couch in frustration.

You giggled as he started to pry one of them off. "I don't know," you sang. "Next time, you could just leave 'em on. It's kinda sexy."

His head shook in disbelief. "You keep saying things like that and you're gonna be the damn death of me, sweetheart."

You sat down on his lap, your ass winding down on his leg as your lips made contact with his. He struggled to hold you up and take his boot off at the same time. He decided on putting his focus solely on you, choosing to worry about his boots later.

You clutched his shoulders, maneuvering him to lie back on the couch. Your hips ground onto his thigh, and you let out a whimper against his lips. The friction was absolute heaven to your cunt, feeling your heat make contact with his even fully clothed.

His hands clung to your waist, guiding you along the fabric of his jeans. "Mmm," he hummed against your lips, "You're so good at this."

You let out an amused huff, moving from his lips to his jaw. You placed a hard kiss on the stubble. "Bet you're even better. You should teach me sometime. How to angle my hips correctly, that is."

His head fell back in pleasure. A soft moan fell from his lips, and you felt quite proud of the way he was falling apart beneath you.

His grip tightened on your hips as he pulled the two of you up from the couch. You whimpered in protest, but he just said, "Gotta finish the rest of the tour, princess."

He finished kicking his boot off before heading toward the next room. His lips made contact with your skin again as he began leading you through the rest of the house. His fingers returned to your belt hoops, tugging you ever so close. "This is the kitchen. Definitely planning on bending you over that table while we wait for breakfast to finish cooking in the morning."

He led you down the hall, stopping in front of the bathroom. "Gonna pound you against those tiles after we get done in my favorite room of the house," he said, cocking his head towards the shower.

Finally, he ushered you into the bedroom. His hands parted from your waist to flick on the lamp. "And this is my favorite room. The bedroom. The room where you're gonna ride me into the sunset. Or sunrise, all things considered."

His room was quite different from what you'd imagined. He had white walls, which you were sure would only enhance the sunlight in the morning when you woke up beside him. His white bedsheets and deep brown quilt looked so welcoming that you wouldn't even fight if he asked you to stay for the rest of your trip. Maybe even the rest of your life if he wanted.

Your stomach fluttered with pure want as he tossed off his flannel, followed by his shirt. All you could do was stand and watch him strip. His abs were nothing short of glorious, glowing in the pale bedroom light. You wanted to leave scratches and bites and bruises down them. You wanted to memorize every divot and ridge of his body.

His lips met yours again, and his hands were back on your body. They roamed down your torso, meeting the hem of your shirt. "Can I take this off?"

"Uh-huh," you breathed out, trying your hardest not to moan already.

His face fell teasingly. "Aw, you're gonna have to do better than that, sweetheart."

Your cunt clenched around nothing at his dominance. "Yes, Stevie. You can do whatever you want to me tonight."

His hips bucked into yours when you called him Stevie, persuading you to add it to your vocabulary for the night. He lifted the shirt from your body, his eyes going glassy as they fell on your boobs. "I'll take you up on that offer, princess."

His hand moved to his hat, tossing it onto the bed lightly. You took a second to admire his curls and waves, sure that you would get lost in them if he allowed you to. As he laid back on the bed, he held your hips and guided you to straddle his waist. With a soft movement of his fingers, he undid the clasp of your bra and slid it agonizingly slow off your body. His mouth made contact with one of your tits while he occupied the other with one of his coarse hands.

Your hands grasped at his jeans but struggled to undo the giant buckle. He chuckled, eliciting a mewl from you as the vibration rumbled against your body. He lifted your hips out of the way before undoing his jeans and kicking them off, his mouth not leaving yours. After finally getting out of his own pants, he moved onto yours.

He flipped the two of you over, your back arching away from the mattress. He sucked on your nipple as he slowly helped you out of your jeans and underwear. You kicked them away, nearly shivering as you heard them hit the floor. As his hands led you further up the bed, your head crashed into his pillows. They smelled like him and it made you smile.

"Ah-ah," he tutted as he moved down your body towards the foot of the bed. His lips met your mound for a second, leaving a soft kiss right above where you needed him most. "Don't get too comfortable laying down. You'll only be like this until I'm satisfied, yeah?"

"Y-Yeah," you answered, your nipples feeling neglected since he parted from them. You let your own hands wander towards your breasts, giving your nipples a tug, still desperate for friction there. Pure shock exploded in your body though as his lips met your thigh, inching toward your entrance.

Your hands flew to his hair on instinct, tugging on the soft strands as he licked a stripe up your cunt. "Stevie," you sighed, your grip tightening.

His mouth moved up to your clit, suckling on your sensitive bud. "Mmm," he praised against you, letting you know he was tasting the most delicious thing on the planet. The rumble of his voice egged your orgasm on and your legs began to shake already.

He left a trail of kitten licks from your clit to your hole, his tongue thrusting in the exact rhythm you needed it. Your legs tightened around him, and you found yourself struggling not to push him away.

"Hey," he stopped you, pulling your legs apart with his rough hands. "You remember what my belt says?"

You looked down at him between your legs to refocus yourself, meeting his beautiful eyes. Your senses were in absolute overdrive at his words. "Pain is t-temporary, victory lasts f-forever."

"I want that to be your mantra tonight, because I've still got a while with you yet."

You moaned pornographically as he met your core again, and this time his mouth was accompanied by his fingers. "Oh, god."

His lips parted from you, his fingers still working fast at your hole. "What was that? Couldn't hear you."

"Oh, my god." Your head fell back and eyes rolled as the digits brushed against your g-spot.

"That's right, princess," he said, licking another line up your puffy cunt. "I'm your god tonight."

Your first orgasm of the night rushed through your body, your essence gushing on his tongue. Apollo had nothing on this man, you were sure of it.

He didn't give up though and continued sucking hard on your clit. Your body convulsed at the stimulation. Your hands clung to his hair, struggling to push him away. "Oh, god, Steve!"

He removed his lips for a split second. "You tell me to stop and I’ll stop," he said, his tone of genuine concern.

"No, god, please don't stop!" you cried out. Your grip was becoming even tighter on his hair.

"Then I need you to remember the words, baby." His mouth absolutely assaulted your pussy, but you were sure you didn't want anything else at that moment.

"Pain is temporary, victory lasts forever," you repeated, your feet digging into his shoulders where they dangled. "Pain is temporary, victory lasts forever."

You could tell that hearing the phrase fall from your lips was affecting him just as much as he was affecting you. You watched his hips roll against the mattress below, desperately searching for any friction he could find. Still, he was dedicated to pulling one more orgasm out of you with just his mouth and hands.

He stayed like that until you came again, and a string of profanities was all you could manage to say. "Fuckfuckfuck," you muttered, your walls pulsing around his tongue.

"Oh, god, please!" you begged, his mouth licking up every last bit of your taste.

His mouth moved up to yours as he hovered above your body, and to say that your taste on his tongue was anything less than sexy would've been a lie. "I think I got you good and loosened up for me, princess. You ready for the fun part?"

You mewled, your hips bucking at nothing as your hands met his skin. One of your hands slipped into his boxers, and already you could tell that he was big.

He hovered over you, his legs straddling your hips, as he reached toward the nightstand. You had only just realized how long his limbs were. He pulled out a condom and slipped it into your hand. "OK," he instructed, "Go ahead. Open it."

You eagerly complied with his simple command. He made quick work of pulling his boxers off and tossing them into the pile with the rest of the discarded clothing as you made an effort to tear open the foil. Your mouth watered at the sight of him, thinking about what it must be like to take all of him down your throat. He was just so big, and you knew one taste would be all it took to have you utterly addicted.

As he settled above you again, you finally pulled the rubber out of the packet. "Now put it on me," he demanded.

Before you managed to inch forward and take him between your lips, he moved your hands to his cock, helping you roll the rubber on. I guess I’ll just have to wait until morning, you thought to yourself.

Rolling the condom onto his length was definitely not an easy task. Between the thickness of his dick and the shakiness of your hands, it seemed impossible. After what felt like an eternity, you finally managed to get it on him, completely captivated at the way his length felt in your palms. You gave it a few experimental strokes and the groans you dragged from his lips were beautiful.

While you finished up with the condom, Steve reached into the nightstand again, grabbing a bottle of lube. He squeezed some onto his fingers, slipping them inside you once more. You moaned loud enough that it echoed off his walls and a chuckle fell from his lips. "You think that feels good. Just wait for what I've got planned for you."

He moved to lie flat beside you, squeezing a couple drops of lube onto your fingers. "Lube me up?" he asked.

There was no way you could ever say no to that. Your hand met his dick, massaging the liquid down the shaft. A groan tumbled from his lips, and you wanted to play it on repeat for the rest of your life.

He grabbed your waist and pulled you on top again, forcing you to face him. His hands squeezed at your love handles as he cooed, "Come here, baby."

Your mouth felt like it had been sewn shut as he guided you into his lap. He grabbed the previously abandoned Stetson, now setting it on your head and looking you over like he could absolutely devour you. "Go ahead, cowgirl. Giddy up."

You keened as you sunk down onto him, barely getting the tip inside you before your head fell back. "Oh, my god."

"That's it, princess, you got it," he cooed, lowering you down his length. You whined as he slowly reached the hilt, his cock surely hitting your cervix.

His hands carried you, rocking your hips in the perfect rhythm he needed. His mouth fell into an open 'o' as you rutted against him. "Just like that."

His cock was made for splitting you open, you were convinced. The only word for the sensual, blissful feeling he brought you was heaven. You'd died and gone to heaven, and this was Apollo you were looking at.

He pounded into you, but the stimulation was becoming just too much. Your body felt heavy as your movements stilled, leaving Steve to do all the work.

The thrusts of his hips slowed as he noticed the absolutely exhausted expression on your face. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Too much," you pouted. "Feel worn out."

His hands moved up to your cheeks before pulling you down for a long kiss. He smelled of sweat and what was left of his cologne, and the aroma did nothing to aid your senses.

"Do you need to stop? It's fine if you do, Promise," he reassured you. "I put you through a lot, huh, sweetheart?"

You shook your head. "Uh-uh. Jus' need a little help. Please?"

He pulled away, pushing some stray hairs behind your ear. "Want me to take care of the rest, baby?"

You managed to nod before he flipped you both over, a whimper falling from your lips at the friction. His hips resumed their previous tempo, his eyes screwing shut as you involuntarily squeezed around him. You smiled up at him from your new position. You were happy to keep going but even happier that you didn't have to hold yourself up any longer. Steve had it, had you.

"You poor little thing," he taunted after one particularly rough thrust. "Needed me to take the reins for you, huh?"

Your head bobbed in something close to the answer he was looking for. Your hands fell above your head, and Steve moved to hold them both in one of his large palms.

"Should've known you wouldn't last long," he teased, fucking into you harder. Your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head from the stimulation. "Considering that sad bull riding attempt."

His lips met yours again as he continued pounding into your core. He controlled the kiss too, his lips rough against your trembling mouth. His tongue searched your mouth, giving you everything you didn't know you needed.

He moved from your lips to your ear, leaving a ghost of a kiss on the lobe. "Just needed Stevie to take over for a bit, yeah?"

"Mhm," you murmured, willing your hips to roll toward his once more. You tried so hard, but this time, you were sure you didn't have the strength left in you. You nipped at his neck, your way of letting him know you were still with him.

"Shhh, you're OK, princess," Steve cooed, "I got you."

His next statement was quite the juxtaposition from his previously quiet voice. This time, his voice was rough, and he couldn't help himself from babbling out, "Shit, I'm close!"

Eager to help him finish, you tried to meet his movements with a couple sloppy thrusts of your own. After all, you were supposed to be riding him. You felt bad for not holding up on your end of the cowboy hat rule. However, Steve moved a hand to your hips to still your movements. He left a distracting bite on your collarbone before kissing over the spot. "Told you I'd take care of the rest, baby. I promise I've got you, but you just gotta trust me.”

You managed to nod again, and your body jerked as you fell apart beneath him. "Oh, Stevie," you gasped. "Thank you."

"Oh, you feel so good," he rasped, his cock twitching inside of you. "Shiiiiittt!" Chasing down his own pleasure, his hips canted as he guided yours, desperately riding out both of your highs.

He fell limp on top of you, and his now softening cock left you feeling full and thankful. You still weren't sure what possessed you to go to a random bar in a strange city in the middle of your work trip, but you definitely weren't regretting it when this god of a man had been there seemingly waiting just for you.

He flipped the two of you over one last time, his hands settling on the small of your back as you rested on top of him.

"I guess the song was right," he sighed. His chest rose and fell in a heavy rhythm as he pecked your scalp, his fingers drawing soft circles on your skin.

"Hmm?" you managed to hum against his pec, his torso warm and inviting.

He left another soft kiss on your head. The feeling of his lips was to die for. "You really should save a horse and ride a cowboy."

OK I KNOW I DON'T USUALLY LEAVE LIL MESSAGES LIKE THIS ON THIS BLOG BUT THERE'S NO WAY I CAN'T THIS TIME

This fic... yawl. Me and Georgia stayed up til 5 am two nights in a row editing this for y'all. When I tell y'all... this might be my favorite fic I've ever written!!! Gosh, this was so much fun and I wish I could experience writing it all over again, even if it has only been like 3 days.

Again, huge thank you to Georgia for working this fic to its fullest potential. I am so obsessed with how this turned out and I am so thankful you helped me with it!!

-> taglist: @dungeons-are-too-cold @rupsmorge @writer-in-theory @esoltis280 @liberhoe

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deaneverafter · 2 years

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A Brief History of Crime

That time of the week, folks, when I've watched the episode a couple of times and I'm ready to talk about it 😌

We got some more possible background information about Beau, and I love that. The scene with Ivan, it makes me think that probably his brother or possibly his old partner, made a sacrifice or got hurt to protect Beau during whatever it was that led to his retirement 🧐😔💔😭 And I'd be remiss if I didn't say that there aren't enough words or praise in the world to do justice to his talent and hardwork, but I'm going to say it anyway, Jensen absolutely knocked it out of the park in the scene while stopping Ivan and talking about "Gil". It's so subtle that there's a deeper meaning there, but somehow he finds that line every time, making it subtle enough to feel real, to only make sense completely much later, but still effective enough to drive the point home, still obvious enough that it can't be missed.

It was cute how Beau's cowboy coat had elbow patches 🥺💟 And I thought there would be one cowboy hat, we got two 💯💯👌🏻🤠 I love that for Beau, but I also love that for Jensen! Also, red/maroon outfits two episodes in a row? 🥰😍❣💯 And his hair looked so cute all episode (me after every episode: his hair 🥺🥰! But also, his everything 😂✊🏻)

Poor Jenny, everyone keeps leaving her, or picking other things or people over her, and I just- 😭💔 It's just not okay. I can't believe that Gigi tipped off Ivan, sending a crazed with grief, armed man, into a situation that her daughter was in, just to steal from said daughter 😡 Katheryn absolutely nailed it 💯 Especially Jenny in the car and in her kitchen in that ending scene 😭😭💔💔 She's so heartbroken and sad, rightfully so, and it's visceral and palpable. I think someone, uhm, a certain green-eyed sheriff mayhaps, needs to be there for her, and console and comfort her 😭💔 Here's to hoping we get some scenes of him checking up on her, making sure she's okay, being a shoulder to lean on next episode.

Speaking of which, so many nice Beau and Jenny moments! They're so in sync he didn't even have to look to give her his hand, I- 💘💕🥺💯💅🏻 Him saying he can't leave because "You'd miss me too much." 🥰🥺💘💕✊🏻 Also "Let's just keep it professional, Hoyt, for now." For now, you say? 👀 One might understand that to mean things are about to get "unprofessional" later 😏 (and I, for one, am here for it 💕) When she said "He's not that cute." And you can see that she's trying trying to convince herself 🥰😏👀💕

I've been waiting since we got the "there's a new sheriff dropping by" video to see why he was wearing a wedding ring in that clip, and I'm not disappointed. Going undercover as a married couple with Jenny was my top hope for it 👌🏻 The whole undercover op, a dream come true. Undercover AND married?! 💯 I like that this is the first scenario Jenny jumped to. And Beau's little smirk as Jenny explained their undercover story, where they're married..... 👀 But also, Beau's the one who suggested going undercover together, and there's not a whole bunch of different scenarios with an adult man and woman to be investing together, so really, who took them undercover as a married couple together? 🧐 Both? Both. Both is good. 😌✊🏻💕 And them being so touchy, I don't know, that isn't strictly necessary for the undercover, is it? 😏👀💕

Also, Jenny seemingly teasing Beau that he could go back to Texas, but actually only saying it to gauge if he plans to stay, because she wants him to (and wants to know if she might be able to let her walls down with him?) 🥺💕 Plus, I don't know, it kind of felt like Beau showed up at Dewell and Hoyt to get some insight about how to help Jenny and be there for her 🥺✊🏻 I like that Beau and Jenny have had this dynamic so far where they're skirting the boundaries, trying to come to a place where they get the other to let them in, pushing and pulling. It makes it more real and deep. But I'm ready for them to let each other in, be there for each other 🥺💕

Looks like Cormac is going to possibly have a dark streak.....? And how's that going to work out with whatever might happen with him and Cassie? Excited for that angst.

Cassie to the rescue again, helping stranded men with their trucks ✊🏻 Something tells me this time however, she's not going to be making a new bro though. Which, I do like that they're being very gung ho on her and Beau having a very "bros being bros" thing, because after everything that went down with Cody, I don't think realistically, Jenny and Cassie's friendship can afford another instance of having a love triangle like that.

I went into the episode thinking Emily couldn't possibly get any more annoying and obnoxious, and then the whole episode Emily was like, did someone say I couldn't get more annoying and obnoxious? Watch this.gif. Like, A, her continuing to get involved in things that she has no business is bad enough, now Avery too? And the knife thing is so over the top, after treating Beau like trash for two episodes and (the better part of the past year and more, presumably). Like, now she cares about her father? Yeah, sure, very believable, really feeling the love, definitely not too little, too late. And of course, she never could be bothered to even pick up his calls, but now she wants to call him, not to talk to him, not to let him know she's okay so he won't be worried, but to send him on her personal errands. Okay 🙄

Carla's going to be showing up soon, and we've seen the interviews about how there might be lingering feelings, but the last thing I want is for Beau to be running after Carla, a woman who already left him once, and humiliating himself like that. That's something I just don't want for him, regardless of everything else. So I'm really hoping that this storyline doesn't go down some reconciliation path, but rather him realizing that he's over her, and has just been holding on to some idea of the family he used to have. He deserves more than to be running after her. And there's clearly something between Beau and Jenny, where the natural progression is them getting together, AND let's just say if they hurt my girl Jenny, by having a man leave her, running after a different woman, a third time, that's just not okay on so many levels. And these two facts taken together, well, am I saying Beau and Jenny endgame solves all our problems? No, but it solves 98% of them (I still want a scene where Jenny has to be held back physically, preferably by Beau so she doesn't get in trouble, from decking Carla and/or Avery).

Walt might be a killer, but he's such a fun character to watch, I'm hoping to see more scenes with him soon. He did essentially kill Mark, but I'm not convinced he's the only danger lurking around those woods 😱👻

#Beau Arlen #Jenny Hoyt #Beau Arlen x Jenny Hoyt #Big Sky #Big Sky: Deadly Trails #Big Sky State of Mind

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chocolategir · 3 years

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My house is very cold and so are my hands >_>

#gee sure wish they could warm up #mayhaps in the hands of a certain cowboy??#not to pine...

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red-doll-face · 3 years

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Not sure if this is your thing, so if it isn't feel free to ignore this completely 😂 If you're interested, I was wondering if you would like to write about the Slashers' reactions to their s/o pampering them by brushing their hair (if they have hair) or just giving them a massage? I feel like the Slasher bois deserve some extra love 💞

Hello! Of course I’d be up for this! It’s always a good day to give the boys some love, ❤️ it’s definitely my thing, my slasher content is probably a little too soft but that’s ok I like it like that😳 you didn’t specify so I just chose my fav big boys 💖

Slashers Getting Pampered

Michael Myers:

Enjoying a great little scalp scratch is Michael’s favorite affectionate gesture that you can do. Feel free to run fingers through his curly hair when he's in the mood to receive any love you have to give. He gives small almost silent grunts of approval, little hums that you’d miss otherwise.

Brushing and preening him makes him feel cared for and it causes strange little signals inside of him that have him twitching. It’s… something. He allows it.

If he hasn't taken off his mask yet or just doesn't want to, you'll have to settle for back massages and kneading the tendons in his hands, which get tense and cramped from holding the knife too tight all the time. He’ll never let you know they cause him pain even if they do hurt.

This takes a whole lot of trust from Michael, everything should be handled with care around him, don't just assume he's down for it, contact isn't his favorite thing in the world. It can make him uncomfortable.

But when it feels nice and it's you, someone he can at least relax a little bit around, he doesn't mind it so much. Especially if you’re willing to take it further.

Eventually he’d even come to expect it, crave the feeling; though he swears he doesn't need it. He will be quietly disappointed if you don't just give it to him, don't make him ask, he's so finicky, he’ll be eternally embarrassed if he even thinks he's coming off as needy.

As for returning your affections, this isn't his strong suit. Keeping pesky nuisances away and making sure you don't get yourself into trouble is where he comes in. The most he can manage is letting you rest around him and keeping a watchful eye on you. Letting you nap on his chest is the one he’s most comfortable with.

Jason Voorhees:

Jason doesn't have any hair so you’ll end up just going ham on his back. He has some tough knots from lugging heavy things, prying bear traps apart and sometimes his muscles will try and seize. He usually ignores this in favor of all the work he has to do, between guarding Crystal Lake and providing and spending time with you.

He’s one thousand percent happy laying down on his front and letting you just go to town on those knots for as long as you're up for it. Not at all opposed to the idea of warm oils and some other stuff as long as it results in your hands on him. You’ll receive no red lights from him if it's a night with you and him.

Jason’s nerves and nerve endings are a bit damaged, there's the sensitive ones and the ones that are a bit dulled which can be great for small wounds of the flesh, (though be careful he forgets about them and you don’t care if they don't hurt! Hello Kitty band aid for Jason!) but your touch can be dulled over his skin. You can be a little rougher with Jason, he can take it.

He shivers when you hit those parts and he won’t vocalize but he may vibrate a little with an inaudible groan, growl, or hum. His mind doesn't go straight to the gutter but he can't argue with instinct. Someone very attractive to him is touching him so he just 😳.

Content to return your efforts, though he may be too gentle with the massage, receive reassurance to go harder, and then squeeze too hard. He’ll get the hang of it.

Grooming him may not involve hair but he loves to bathe with you and mayhaps a rubber ducky. He feels much more comfortable in water when you’re there and it's in the bathtub, reminding him of bath times spent with his mother and splashing around. Good times.

Up for washing with you just give him some time to acclimate to water and you may be cramped in the bathtub because he is a big boy. Actually, good luck fitting in there with him, he’s taking up almost the whole space.

Bubba Sawyer:

For Bubba it’s relaxation enough to spend the end of a long day with you and do absolutely nothing. Whether it be out on the porch watching a sunset or just laying down with him. Catch him drooling on you, you’re just so comfortable!

But when you scratch at his skin lightly and caress his tightened muscles and his pudge alike, he can swear he died and went to heaven. He thinks he doesn't need anything ever again except this for the rest of his life. He could die happy with you in his arms.

Bubba is so touch starved that any gentle touch has shivers down his spine and goosebumps down his arms. But when you dig your fingers in his sore back, shoulders, and arms he just squeals and whimpers, begging for more of that.

He wears three inch tall cowboy boots and does so much running, his calves are a great place to press your thumbs into. Bubba didn’t even know he could alleviate pain this way, part of him felt that it was just normal to feel like this. He thanks you everytime, so happy you're here with him.

Every once in a while he’ll look at you and give you those big eyes with the soft gleam and you know he wants your hands on him. May lead to more sensual acts.

Bubba is good at returning, his hands are big and hard and warm with labor and doesn't get tired of giving or receiving. He's an eager boy.

His hair, dark thick, and curly, can become rather tangled and messy. Random twigs and weird residues can get caught in it so cleaning it before grooming is much better. Bubba loves to feel taken care of. He knows he doesn't necessarily need you to clean and brush his hair.

It just feels so much better when you do it, please do it often now. Or else he’ll be sad. :(

Thomas B. Hewitt:

Thomas usually doesn't like to obviously need anything, his mother would worry and Hoyt would make a show of it so he just stands there, then goes to bed with back aches, he’s sadly very used to that kind of day.

But when you notice his quiet grips over his own shoulders or the way he seems so pained to do certain things. You tell him to lay down and let him relax.

He’ll be reluctant but agrees. Nothing too bad could happen, right? Was this some new fangled electrical machine to zap his skin off? His mind boggles.

Quickly decides this was the best decision of his life. How could he doubt you?

Though he hates making noise because he does not like to be judged, Thomas is moaning and groaning; it just feels so good…He's kind of embarrassed. Tell no one of this!

His arms get really sore from toting the chainsaw around, just squeeze the knots in his arms and back out and if he were a dog his leg would kick. He does a lot of hard work around the house and walks most everywhere so his legs can get pretty cramped up too. Boots aren't exactly walking shoes.

Receiving is great and all but he's polite enough to reciprocate and is too gentle sometimes. He's self conscious that his calluses are uncomfortable for you but just reassure him.

His hair is long and greasy, due to not being the best when it comes to taking care of his hair. It helps hide his face so he can thank it for that but not much else. When you express interest in washing and combing it he's like why though?

Then your hands on his scalp massaging in shampoo make him realize why. You have the best ideas. He marvels at his hair, clean and wavy. You don't even have to convince him to bathe; he just drags you to the bathroom ready for you to wash and brush his hair.

Thanks for requesting! I love my big bois 🥴💖🥺

#slasher x reader #dbd x reader #michael myers #michael myers x reader #dbd the shape #halloween #bubba sawyer #bubba sawyer x reader #tcm #tcm the beginning #thomas brown hewitt #thomas brown hewitt x reader #jason voorhees x reader #jason voorhees #friday the 13th #red writes

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