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rosieshipper · 1 year

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Revamping my red dead self insert

So this is my new self insert for red dead. Her name is Rose Delgado

Rose was originally born into a small family on a farm, she had a loving mother but an alcoholic father who was normally abusive towards her and her mom. One night when she was eight, her father came home in a drunken rage and started a fight with her mother. The fight only escalated into violence and in the fight, her father knocked over some lit candles which eventually set the entire house ablaze. Rose was able to escape thanks to her mother, but in the end, both her mother and father were consumed by the flames

In the next year, Rose was resorted to having to steal and pickpocket from others just to survive. One day while in a market place, she managed to pickpocket these two men (Dutch and Hosea) before she was suddenly caught by them and chased down an alleyway. Once cornered, Rose pulled a knife on them and threatened to kill them both, but instead of being met with anger, she was met by the two of them being impressed by her skills of managing to steal from them both. So they offered to let her stay with them in their camp and in turn she would help them with her pickpocketing skills. Seeing as she had no other options, she took the deal

From there she was taken back to the camp and was raised alongside Arthur and John (Arthur being in his early 20s and John being 10) Over the years, Rose became a proper outlaw, learning how to shoot a gun, ride a horse and steal from the rich and unworthy. And eventually she became one of the group’s best gunslingers

Later on in her early 20s after the massacre in blackwater, Rose meets a grief stricken woman with a sense of vengeance on the men who killed her husband. Rose is tasked with helping her feel more comfortable in the camp and over the time, some feelings are shared between the two women

So yeah, Dutch and Hosea are her dads, Arthur and John are her brothers and Sadie is her future girlfriend

Tags: @astralshipper @aricka-and-her-fictional-others @magicalpuppyprincess @wolfofthedead

#I had to write this post twice because tumblr ate it the first time #self shipping #self ship #selfshipping #self ship community #self insert #selfship community #f/o #red dead 2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #dutch van der linde #hosea matthews #arthur morgan #john marston #sadie adler #otp: bounty hunters and outlaws

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freedominthedarkmp3 · 2 years

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omg ezra furman ❤❤❤

Stream for clear skin and vibes

#if I had a euro for every song im obsessed with about t4t outlaws in love running from the authorities I'd have 2€ which isn't much #But I'm happy it happened twice #Anyway I'm in love with her ❤️❤️❤️#Music #ezra furman

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insanethrottlebikernews · 8 months

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Dirt biker turns himself in for 'intentionally' running over pedestrian twice

BENSALEM, Pa. – It’s been more than a month since a 64-year-old man was plowed down by a dirt bike, and now police say a suspect has finally been charged. The victim was walking on the1600 block of Neshaminy Valley Drive in Bensalem when police say he was “intentionally” hit by an illegal dirt bike on August 5. After knocking the pedestrian to the ground, the dirt bike rider ran him over a…

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#bandidos mc #Biker News #biker news 1%#bikie news #Dirt biker turns himself in for &039;intentionally&039; running over pedestrian twice #hells angels #motorcycle club #outlaw biker news 1%#Outlaw MC #outlaws Motorcycle club

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twice-the-outlaw-official · 2 months

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“Sickle Sighting,” by Gabriel Michaud

I followed the voices in my head until I was nearly dead.

Drinking, smoking, and snorting until my eyes were bloodshot red.

Red like a matadors cape…I fall into my escape.

I was the raging bull ready to fight

I stared death right in the eyes and took his sickle away with a grimaced smile.

The time alone caught up to me.

But that was never who I was supposed to be.

Now I drop to a knee and pray for my sanity; while your loving embrace takes over me.

All I have to do is stay alive for one more day

All I have to do is bow my head and pray.

I’ll try to repent for my sins, but this nagging loneliness is where it begins.

You blessed me with a second chance

If I’m too much of a church going man for you to understand, spend a day in hell or locked in a cell.

These hands will never be clean, but at least I can dream of a life worth living knowing I’ll be forgiven.

#poetry #existential poetry #songwriter #love poem #my poem #original poem #poesia #poetic #writers #writerslife #sad poem #poetic outlaws #the tortured poets department #poetry community #spilled poem #spiritualjourney #twice the outlaw #late night thoughts

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ghouljams · 5 months

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Ghoul, Ghoul help, I would let this man do unspeakable things to me and thank him for it.

Posted on Twitter Here

He's a terror in town, the red lacquered wood of his mask catch's the sunshine under the dark shadow of his hat. His duster sways with each step, just catching on the handle of his pistol. He holds a rifle at his side, he looks like death come to town when he kicks in the saloon doors.

Ghost grabs the first man he sees by the collar and shoves the mouth of his rifle against the soft fleshy part of his jaw. The saloon goes quiet. The man in his grip struggles and panics against his grip, fingers clawing at the fist in his shirt. Ghost surveys the patrons with a cold indifference. His rage has never been hot, pumping ice through his veins as he clicks the hammer back.

"Where's my fucking wife?" He asks the bar, his voice booming in the silence. In the middle of the room a table of men stand. Each one with their hands inching towards their own weapon. Ghost has met a lot of stupid men in his time wandering the west, but there's none as stupid as an outlaw's underlings. Something about the fear normal people allot them seems to make them think they're untouchable.

Ghost lowers his rifle from the man in his grip and points it at his newest targets. He fires from the hip, two quick shots before the recoil really hits. Blowing the jaw off one man, and the ear off another. He drops his previous victim, who scrambles off, and shoulders his rifle to aim at the last outlaw standing. They hold their six shooter with trembling fingers.

"Not asking twice," Ghost tells them, his finger inching on the trigger.

"A m-mile west outside town, there's a cave we camp in." They stumble over their tongue. That's good, Ghost was hoping they'd give up easily. He makes his way towards the guy, keeps his rifle trained on him. "I can take you," They offer.

"Mighty kind," Ghost hums, swiping one of the short glasses off the table, "but I can find it." It's a single motion when he tugs his mask up and tips the brown liquor into his mask. He sets the glass down and pulls the trigger, not bothering to watch the man crumble as he tugs his mask back into place.

Fucking hell this place is a mess, the whiskey isn't even decent. Kidnapping a sheriff's kid and a gunslinger's wife, he'd think they'd at least take you somewhere nicer. Although the hell Ghost's sure you're putting your captors through probably didn't help their decision making. Aw but don't worry baby, he's comin' for you.

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kisses4kaia · 4 months

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MORE BROTHERS BEST FRIEND BILLY THE KID I BEG OF YOU

GIBSON GIRL .ᐟ

pairing— brothersbestfriend!william h. bonney x fem!reader

warnings— smut, forbidden relationship, p in v, oral (m and f receiving) EVERYONE IS LEGAL!!

a/n— this took an absurd amount of time sorry! she’s here now tho so plz reblog if u enjoyed! (also not a part two to the first one 🤍)

“billy, make sure she’s safe while i’m gone, will you?” jesse asks his best friend in reference to you, his innocent, sweet, little sister. and naturally, without any hesitation, billy nods. “of course, always,”

there’s something about his tone when he says it, something that hints that his opinion of you isn’t entirely fraternal, but perhaps something more profound. jesse doesn’t catch onto that, though; never having been the brightest tool in the shed.

almost ignorantly, he just nods at billy in respectful acknowledgment, kisses you on the cheek, all before leaving the house, heading into town for whatever errands needed running, leaving you and billy alone for many unsupervised hours.

god, the tension between the pair of you was palpable—thicker than molasses and sweeter than it, too. to make matters worse for the outlaw, recently, you took up a new hobby—making billy squirm. making innuendos just barely passable as innocent banter, being on your best behavior and letting him know you were like this just for him, then going and turning it around completely, becoming a complete and total brat, not heeding to mind a single word he speaks.

and fuck, it was driving him insane. he felt so ashamed of himself on nights when all his mind could conjure up before bed was images of you—images the lord would frown upon sincerely—and end up with a cum-splotched torso and a still unsatiated cock. he hated you for it.

you, with your too-tight denim shorts in july, and with your ribbons in your pigtail plaits, and your sweet, soft, wickedly tantalizing, eyes and even more venomous voice. everything about you drove him mad, and it was the very nature of your relationship that irked him the most—because, he knew, as desperately as he wanted, he could not have you. you were his best friends little sister, for christ’s sake! it was never bound to end well for him. honestly, he felt like the fates had fucked him.

so now, when you are in your bed, reading a romance novel you’ve already read twice, something outside of your window catches your eye. billy is currently out on the farm with the horses, tending to them. not an uncommon sight, however since it’s august, and this is the midwest, and it is hot—almost naturally—billy has abandoned his linen, button-up, shirt and is wearing nothing but a dirt-stained wifebeater, his trousers, and gun holster—and of course, his cowboy hat. you bite your lip at the display, sure this must be a product of one of your many erotic dreams about your brothers best friend, but all of that is debunked when he looks up at you, his catching the way your bottom lip is folded behind your teeth and your lingering gaze is burning onto his toned arms—probably a result of workin so hard as a farmhand and cowboy his whole life, you reckon—and meeting your piercing gaze.

you decide to push yourself off of your pretty, bowed, sheets and make your way downstairs to the trouble that lies within the man you grew up right next to.

“you know, it’s rude to stare,” billy chimes while you sit on an old, rackety, rocking chair residing on the back porch of your house, watching billy on the ranch. “and you think i’m above being rude?” you cock your head slightly, almost challenging him but not quite. he rolls his eyes, obviously wanting to snap back but can’t find it in him, not when you’re looking at him like that.

soon, he’s done with the work needed to have been done (admittedly, he did make haste so as to keep you waiting on him), and he’s grabbing his shirt off the pole of the wooden fence that is caging the horses in, tying the sleeves around his waist. he doesn’t spare you a single glance as he walks into the home, but you know he’s silently beckoning you to trail after him—after all, you were only out here to ogle at him, weren’t you?

when you enter the threshold of your home, your eyes land upon billy, who is pouring himself a glass of cheap whiskey and plopping down onto your couch.

“c’mon, sit down,” billy offers, sweat on his brow as the brown liquor swirls around the crystal glass, his legs spread wide and his demeanor exuding assertiveness. “well, now don’t be silly, there’s no other seat,” you acknowledge the lack of another sofa in the cozy living room, and the one billy did sit on, was only big enough to seat one. “oh, that’s no problem, doll, just sit on my lap, hm?” he cocks his head at you, daring eyes telling you all you needed to know. your raise your eyebrows and smile. “are you sure that’s what you want me to do?” your voice is a single warning, and billy is clearly throwing all caution to the wind, because he laughs. “c’mon, baby, i’m a big boy, i know what i want,” you knew what his underlying message was and the implication urged you to begin walking towards the couch.

blue eyes bore into yours as you throw a leg on either side of his thighs, skirt splaying over the tops of your thighs. he downs all the liquor in the glass before placing it onto the small coffee table next to him, eyes never leaving yours. carefully, but not fearfully, he drags a finger from your calf all the way to your waist, before both of his large hands take a rest at your love handles. “careful, billy,” you say in a singsong voice, allowing your hips to slowly, very slowly, begin moving downwards unto billy’s crotch. your arms lazily wrap around his neck, forearms resting on his strong, broad, shoulders. he kisses his teeth, bringing his face closer to yours ever so slightly, whiskey breath fanning over your face, chest, décolletage. when his lips finally encase yours, there’s so much built-up tension flowing in the passionate manner in which he kisses you, his palms grip onto your hips possessively before pressing all over your back, grappling desperately to get his calloused hands everywhere on your body all at once. he felt like he was drowning in you, but he would never call for help, for he needed you this instant and there was nothing stopping him from having you right here, right now.

“get on your knees,” he grits through his teeth, lust seething through the low growl that is his voice. you hardly think twice before moving back onto the plywood floor, knees already taking splinters, but you didn’t care, not when billy was unbuckling his denim trousers and letting his cock spring free from the confines of his boxers.

billy revels in the wide-eyed expression on your face as you take in his size. his cock was beautiful—angry, red, and proud, tip leaking with precum, pretty veins running vertically along the length. you swallow your surprise and slowly, you wrap a soft hand around the base of his length, bringing your lips down to his tip and pressing teasing kisses on it. the man above you lets out a soft groan, relaxing his muscles and allowing a strong hand to run through your hair, not quite gathering it yet, but maintaining it out of your face.

after peppering gentle kisses all over his hard cock, you finally flatten your tongue against the underside of him, licking up to the tip. you wrap your lips around his achy head and take as much as you can of him into your mouth, warm throat tightening around him. it takes everything inside billy to not immediately start fucking your fragile face, and when your tear-pricked eyes met his darkened blue ones, he roughly pulls you off of him. he throws you onto your back on the couch, like you weigh no more than a feather, hikes up your skirt and pulls your pale, pink, cotton, panties to the side. as he begins sliding his cock between your puffy folds, his tip brushes against your sensitive bud, and you whine, needing him to quit dangling the carrot and fuck you already. at the pathetic sound, billy just coos, pressing a gentle, loving, kiss to your pouted lips, before slamming his cock into your unprepared, sopping, cunt. you cry out against his lips and as he begins rutting his hips against yours, he’s trying to find restraint. he knows you probably won’t be able to walk properly for a week if he keeps fucking you like this, but the pent up tension finally being released urges him to keep fucking you primally—and plus, you wanted this, didn’t you? with your teasing, and your fucking miniskirts, everything you did was a beg for billy to fuck you into your place, right?

even in his sex-crazed state, billy’s still a gentleman who’s concerned with your pleasure just as much as his, and uses one of the hands he had rested beside your head to draw fast circles on your clit, pulling the most melodic sounds from you. they pushed him closer and closer to the edge and before you both knew it, billy was pulling out of your cunt, making you whine at the empty feeling, stroking himself a few times before painting your abdomen in his seed.

when he came down from his high, billy dropped down to his knees before you, skipping all the teasing he wanted to do (he would, next time) and licked a fat stripe up your slit, stopping at your clit and sucking momentarily. the muscle continued to work at you, dipping and fucking into your achy hole, and within minutes, your orgasm had crashed into you like a powerful ocean tide, struck by poseidon himself. you cried out his name, explicit weaved between your moans. billy just rides you through it, strong hands holding your wildly bucking hips down as you spasmed through your release.

“good girl, such a good girl,” billy cooed, the praise making your face go warm, even after he saw the most intimate parts of you. you brush off the compliment, afraid your own voice would betray you and instead reply “i take it this won’t be the last time we do… this?” and billy just chuckles darkly, picking you up off the couch and sitting himself back down, placing you prettily on his lap. “no, sugar. after this, you’re mine. understand?”

#.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ 𝐤𝐚𝐢𝐚 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 !#kai's got mail <3📑#angelnon 🤍#𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭.. ✮⋆˙ !#billy the kid smut #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid imagine #billy the kid #billy the kid 2022 #billy antrim #william h bonney smut #william bonney #william h bonney #william h bonney x reader #billy bonney x reader #tom blyth smut #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth #tom blyth x you

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caelesjjk · 5 months

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make me your villain - collab

If you’ve ever wondered how the story might have ended differently if the villain got the girl, you’ve come to the right place.

Everyone loves a bit of a morally grey villain who is only good for that one particular person. The kind that would watch the world burn for you and never think twice about it. The kind that are deadly but also deadly hot.

In this collab you’ll find an array of retold stories with that villainous twist. Please look forward to them in the coming months, as there’s no particular posting time.

TBA

Title: The Price Written by: @daechwitatamic Genre: Snow White and the Huntsman!au, angst, smut, unhappy ending Pairing: Snow White!Yoongi x Hunts(wo)man!reader Summary: The Queen is responsible for everything you can claim: your home, your job, your freedom. You live without laying claim to anything else, lest the Queen leverage more pieces of you in exchange for her grace. But freedom isn’t free, and the Queen has just named her price: the young blacksmith, Min Yoongi.

Title: The Surface Written by: @moni-logues Pairing: prince merman!Hoseok x sea witch!reader Genre: fairytale AU/The Little Mermaid AU, angst, smut Summary: Prince Hoseok has only ever wanted one thing: to experience life on the Surface. You have only ever wanted Prince Hoseok. When he comes to you, desperate, claiming you are the only one who can help him, you decide to play along. You'll help him achieve his dream and maybe you'll satisfy your own dream, too.

Title: Red Written by: @sailoryooons Pairing: Werewolf!Namjoon x f. reader Genre: Supernatural, thriller, smut Summary: For as long as you can remember, your village has been relatively normal. But when people begin to turn up dead right after a group of newcomers arrive, pieces of your past start to fall into place, and something feels familiar - particularly the quiet man who can't take his eyes off of you.

Title: A Good Day To Die Written by: @here4kpopfics Pairing: Jimin x reader Genre: Robin Hood!au, enemies to lovers, smut, violence, royal shenanigans. Summary: With a royal wedding looming around the corner, everyone is running around in circles to make sure everything goes according to plan. Three days before the wedding, however, the princess is kidnapped by the infamous outlaw, Park Jimin. Or was she?

Title: Serpent & Nightingale Written by: @caelesjjk Pairing: Captain Hook!Taehyung x f. reader (grown version of Wendy) Genre: Peter Pan AU, Fairytale AU, Villain gets the girl, angst, smut Summary: You needed to escape him. You needed to get as far away as you could so he could never bring you back. So you make a deal with the pirate you’ve been told to loathe most of your life. The pirate that you read stories to when you were a child when had no other way to save him. The pirate who insists you seal your deal with a kiss in order to board the Jolly Roger and join him in Evernight, the island he calls home.

Title: Golden Shackles Written by: @gimmethatagustd Pairing: sorcerer!jungkook x genie!(f)reader Genre: Aladdin AU, fantasy, royalty, angst, smut Summary: For thousands of years, you’ve been forced to grant the wishes of greedy men who want nothing but power. When you fall into the hands of a royal imposter, it’s his rival for the throne who becomes your only hope for freedom.

#bts #bts fic #bts smut #bts collab #jin fic #yoongi fic #jhope fic #namjoon fic #Jimin fic #taehyung fic #jungkook fic #bts fanfic #bts oneshot #bts x reader

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bunnypansy · 16 days

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Whiskey, Neat

Rated E, for EVERYONE!

Boothill is the most annoying customer you have to deal with.

Featuring: Boothill and YOU!

Beware! This film contains: Probably OOC Boothill (made before his release), gender neutral reader, the reader doesn't like straight whiskey sorry guys, not quite frenemies to lovers....? more like two ppl annoying the fuck outta each other, Boothill threatens to kill you once or twice, but he also flirts, a touch of angst at the VERY end, mention of sexual harassment but it's just the reader calling Boothill a creep I repeat there is zero sexual harassment in this fic

Boothill is a thorn in your side. No, no; you find yourself thinking that comparison is too tame. To you, Boothill is a girdle made of barbed wire. You thought it impossible to hate a man at such a depth until you met the outlaw. He always smelled like hot pennies and diesel, never paid his tab, and harassed the rest of the bar staff to such a degree that none of them would serve him. Except you.

For the first few months of your “relationship”, you were only acquainted with Boothill from the countless times you had to drag him away from the bar top and throw him out the front door. Shortly after that, your boss said you should learn a thing or two about bartending for “no good reason”. You were starting to catch on. Soon enough your position as security faded away and was replaced with “the guy who dealt with Boothill”. You can't complain, the pay is better and you have the eternal gratitude of your coworkers.

In a matter of mere seconds, the front doors swing open, and three deafening gunshots shatter the eardrums of everyone in the bar.

“Alright, everyone out.” Just like that, you watch all the good tips run right out the door, along with the rest of the wait staff. Now left in an empty bar, Boothill throws his arms wide, gun still held tight in his metal fingers. “I'm back, baby! You miss me?”

The revolver takes a seat at the bar top before Boothill does, slammed down hard against the wood, its barrel pointed right at you. You're not worried, Boothill doesn't shoot on accident.

“Like a hole in the head.” You quit cleaning a glass and glance at the new bullet holes placed just above the door. “Or the ceiling… order your drink and get the fuck outta here already, Boots. You're killing business.”

“Keep mouthin’ off and I'll be killin’ more than business, sweetheart.” As if to prove his point, the freak of nature spits a few bullets onto the bar top and starts reloading his gun.

You can't help but roll your eyes at Boothill’s threats. The man offers to shoot you every other breath, but he'll never do it- if he was going to kill you, you'd already be dead. You're the only man still alive who talks to Boothill like that. Probably because you're the only man alive who’ll still serve him a drink. “You're not gonna kill me, Boots. Piss off any more bartenders and you're gonna have to get your fix from the hand sanitizer in public bathrooms.”

A deep scowl takes over Boothill’s face. “You're just askin’ for me to hop this counter and kiss you right on that pretty mouth of yours.” He stops then, equal parts embarrassed and furious as a hand comes to grasp at his own throat, surely cursing his internal censor system.

“Wow, sexual harassment, that's a new low, even for a hunk of junk like you.” You snort and a short glass finds its way into your hands. You're already pulling the strongest whiskey you have from beneath the counter, knowing Boothill will ask for it any second.

As if intentionally subverting your expectations, the outlaw kicks his feet up on the bar with an amused chuckle and a smug smile that makes you want to punch his teeth right out of his face.

“You just call me a hunk?” Six words in and you're already exasperated beyond belief. He's leaving crusty speckles on your clean bar. “Darlin’, if you wanted to take me out so bad, you coulda’ just asked.”

You elbow Boothill right in the ankles; it brings a mild ache to your arm as bone meets unrelenting metal, but the pain is worth it to watch the self-satisfied prick lose his grin and nearly fall out of his chair. “I’d rather drink a pint of sand and chew the glass it came in, take your drink and get outta here.”

The glass slides across the bar just a touch too fast, the liquid fire inside threatening to slosh over the sides; if Boothill's hand hadn't shot out to catch the glass, it surely would've sailed right off the bar and shattered on the floor.

“Come on now sweet thing, don't act like you hate me.” He recuperates much too fast, already leaning on his palm. There's a horrible, discordant shrieking emitted by the friction of metal against glass; Boothill running his fingertip around the rim of the glass. “Can't deny we’ve got some kinda chemistry.”

“Oh, it ain't acting, trust.” You snort at Boothill’s shot at… Well, you're not sure; could this be called flirting? If so, it's a laughable attempt. “We've got chemistry like bleach and ammonia.”

You know he's got some smart-mouthed response when Boothill bares his pointed teeth in a massive grin. “Could say we'd be… breathtakin’?”

It's horrible. That joke is worse than any sugar-coated insult Boothill could toss your way. One hand shoots out to grasp Boothill’s glass, the other going to grip his chin.

“Agh- what the-” You don't give Boothill time to finish, wedging your fingers between his razor-sharp teeth to pry his mouth open and dump the glass of whiskey down his throat. He gargles once, coughs twice, and swats at your hands furiously.

“You had your drink. Now run off, you robotic trash-eating vermin.” Fresh bruises are purpling on your wrists from Boothill’s strikes. It could still be worse. He could tell another joke.

Boothill is still sputtering like a drowned rat, grasping at his throat and swearing- or doing his best impression of it. “What in heaven’s holy gates, darling!?” He coughs again. “You tryna’ give me a heart attack you cute little minx?! Who just pours a drink down a man's throat?!”

“Someone who's trying to get the man to leave. You had your drink, now scram before I call animal control.” You reach to take away Boothill’s empty half-glass, only to get caught in the outlaw’s iron grip.

His spare hand slams down against the bar top, a cacophony of delicate tinkling ringing out as glassware rattles and bumps against itself. “Oh don't pull that cute crap with me, sweetheart! Pour me another one, so I can drink it nice and slow.”

“You're a jackass, you know?” The words come out hissed between your teeth, roiling with barely concealed hatred, but you’re already moving to pour him another. Every time you encounter Boothill, you curse his stubbornness.

“Watch your mouth.” His grip relaxes slightly, but he keeps his stern expression as he sits back down. “Whiskey, neat.”

You almost laugh, jerking your wrist out of his grasp- does Boothill seriously think you need a reminder? Though you’d much rather kick him to the curb with a few extra bullet holes in his ugly hat, you pour Boothill a second drink with an insulted scoff. “Yeah, yeah, I know what you fuckin’ drink.”

When Boothill takes the drink this time, he tilts the glass towards you in an encouraging motion. “Pour one for yourself, too.” The look you give him must be an incredulous one, because he scowls and waves a hand at you dismissively. “Aw, Pete's sake. Just do it!”

The sigh you heave is so heavy that Boothill briefly looks for an open window, thinking there’s a draft coming in. You drag your feet through pulling down a second glass, lamenting that now you have two dishes to do when the outlaw leaves. The pour you give yourself can be more accurately called a sip, barely coming to the width of your finger. When Boothill shoots an exasperated look your way, you already have a retort prepped for him.

“Not all of us can drink in the middle of the damn day, Boots.” You stare down at the drink, swirling it lightly with a disgusted grimace. “Besides, I’m no fan of straight whiskey. I’m more of an Old Fashioned kind of guy.”

The way Boothill smiles smugly makes you wanna punch dents into his metal chest. “Oh, bless your heart, that’s cute. Stuff’s too sweet for me, personally.” He lifts his glass to you, asking for a toast.

“Too sweet? Hell, Boots. Maybe hand sanitizer is a good match for you.” Reluctantly, you tilt your glass towards his, the rims letting out a high ringing as they meet.

This time Boothill pulls an exasperated face, raising the glass to sit just in front of his lips. “Just drink already, I’m tryna’ be nice, and you’re out here ruinin’ it with your smart lil’ mouth.”

After a second of hesitation, staring into the amber, you tip the glass back and let the drink slide down your throat. It burns, chemical and hot, like sandpaper tearing through your esophagus. It’s all you can do to not dry heave at the feeling, but you can’t stifle a coughing fit. “Fucking hell- how can you drink this shit?”

The drink came much easier to Boothill, nursing his whiskey as if he were only sipping on tap water. “Guess I just got a more refined palette, sweet thing. Thanks for sharin’ a drink with me anyway. You make a guy feel less lonely.”

For once, Boothill seems strangely earnest and you can’t help but be put off guard. You suppose, with such a polarizing personality and by the very nature of outrunning the law, Boothill must live quite the isolating life. Then again, if he wanted to be less alone, he could simply stop getting himself kicked out of bars. Still, you stumble over your words for a second, looking for a proper thing to say, and in the end only muttering out a sorry; “Yeah, sure, no problem.”

Even to you, that doesn’t quite make you sound like yourself. Dishes, you have dishes to do, a distraction that can carry your mind away from Boothill’s odd shift in demeanor. You’re expecting a snide comment about how quiet you’re being, but when you look back at Boothill, he’s fixed his gaze on an empty wall; clearly, he’s far away from here. You’re trying not to think about it too hard- Boothill’s seemingly flirtatious remarks, asking you to drink -but in the empty bar, it’s silent, and it’s almost… nice.

I SWEAR I'M WORKING ON REQUESTS. I PROMISE. the Barbatos fic is coming out to be twice as long as just about anything else I've written so it's taking a long time. I saw Boothill things and was possessed by spirits to make this. Also. Yes inspired by the Hozier song

#pansy writes #honkai star rail #hsr boothill #hsr x reader #boothill x reader #boothill #boothill hsr #boothill honkai star rail #boothill x you #x reader #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral reader #boothill x gender neutral reader #hoyoverse

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mukbangg · 4 months

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Helping stressed out Billy the kid.

Billy the Kid Spoilers‼

18+

(Eh kinda died halfway...but I need more billy the kid sloppy porn)

Tunstall's shot dead and everyones gathering at the ranch, looking to Billy to lead them.

With so many eyes on him, so many responsibilities and to add on, the upcoming war with Murphy and him having to face Jesse? Billy is stressed through the roof.

But hes Billy the Kid, cowboy outlaw and one hell of a gunslinger, hes been on his own all this time he can do this cant he?

Now you, being one of the people Tunstall had hired, a cowgirl if you will, well you're acquainted with Billy alright. More than acquainted if him pounding you harshly into the bed a few weeks ago means anything. Not an exclusive relationship, yall never talked about defining whatever the hell is going on but you're familiar enough with his quirks to see that his clenched jaw and that heavy close-lipped sigh means hes got himself wound up tight.

And you know just the way to help him out.

"What're you doing, I can't-"

A click of your tongue had him huffing and letting you tug him into the barn, out of sight.

The moment whatever tense meeting was done in the house, people filling away to busy with their business, you took the chance and stole Billy away, dragging him out like he owes you money.

"I haven't got the time doll, what d'you want?"

Ever the sweetheart, Billy could never get too harsh with you, his unofficial girl. His voice strains, and his eyes can hardly focus on you but theres a softness to his question.

You roll your eyes, backing him up against the flimsy wall and kicked his legs open impatiently.

Whatever protest he had died on his tongue the moment you sank down onto your knees, one brow raised as a challenge for him to push you away.

He doesnt.

Billy swallows as you yank his belt loose, unzipping his trousers just enough to see his half-hard bulge in his boxers.

"Doll- we cant- not here-"

But all it took was for you to place an open mouth kiss on his bulge, mouthing at his cock through his boxers with that hard glint in your eyes staring right at him, and his jaw was falling slack eyes fluttering in a heavy lidded gaze ,that glazed out look in his eyes.

You take your time playing with him, getting him all hard and needy till his precum leaks through the fabric of his boxers mixing with your saliva.

His palm cups the back of your head, pressing you down with a shaky groan that almost, hips bucking into your face for more.

You chuckle, before finally taking his cock out and he hisses at the contact, voice tapering into a throaty groan that was a little too loud for you.

"You can stay quiet, cant you billy?"

And despite your doe eyes and pouty lips, all innocent and soft staring up at him like hes the most precious thing in the world, the edge in your voice made him swallow hard, whispering out a raspy "y-yes".

"Good,"

And then you smile all sweet like honey, kissing his painfully swollen tip slick with pre, and he squeezes his eyes shut, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he prays to mother mary he doesnt cum the moment you fuck your mouth on his cock.

His eyes practically rolls back when you swallow him down your snug throat, teeth clenched as he struggles to gulp down his heavy groans and whimpers.

Your head bobs expertly, cheeks hollowed out as you suck him sloppy.

"Fffuuuuuccckkk..."

If you moan one more time around his cock hes gonna burst.

You pull back, tongue swirling on his tip, one hand holding down his bucking hips while the other thumbs at his balls.

"C'mon Billy...."

You drawl, smiling as you drag your glistening lips up the underside of his cock.

You know he isnt going to last.

"I want your cum..."

And he moans brokenly, head lolling back as he presses your head down to his base, cock twitching once, twice, and hes squirting cum down your throat.

He jolts, hunching over you as you try to swallow the copious amount of thick built-up cum, so much it leaks out the corners of your mouth.

Billy's heaving, face flushed and he groans as you pull off, slumping down against the wall so hes level with you, eyes fuzzy and loopy, watching you swallow his cum.

You lean forward to peck his lips, earning a lopsided smile from him when he tastes himself on your lips. He whispers a "thank you", pulling you against him to bury his face into your neck.

"Lemme return the favour later doll,"

And you grin, knowing full well you both wont be sleeping tonight.

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verdemoun · 26 days

Text

modern au but the gang waking up in modern day in the order they died with memories of their lives as outlaws:

bessie motherfucking matthews being the one that rounds them up. she's a professor at a university teaching women's history and owns a little cottage on the outskirts of town, and uses newspaper articles to try and plot out who/where someone will 'wake up'

sean was the first VDL she successfully found. davey and mac somehow found each other and got themselves incarcerated for armed robbery before she got them.

sean adapts almost instantly and loves the chaos of modern day cities: car horns, fluorescent lights, night clubs, television (fuck you lenny reading is for nerds!!). he steals a bike he calls ennis II and gets a job delivering pizzas

she finds hosea and lenny next. it's a very emotional reunion. she starts calling lenny her son. hosea spends at least a week refusing to let his wife out of his sight because he has to be dreaming, kisses and adores her at every opportunity. their dates are her teaching him to drive a car

lenny takes less than a day to figure out computers and takes over the locate the VDLs project. he has what is effectively a murder wall of colored yarn and push pins trying to figure out when and where the next person will appear. manages to cyber-stalk down jenny, who being as breathtakingly clever as she is figured out the present all by herself and works in a diner. she comes over for dinner twice a week

retracing the gang's steps they find kieran, who is doing fabulously not well. he's been homeless for a month, got hit by a car and is very, very distraught by not only the memories of his torture after being taken by o'driscolls but the fact he betrayed the gang by talking. bessie matthews, mother to all, introduces him to noise cancelling headphones, gardening, and horse girl movies.

lenny: hey i've been doing some research and i think most of us have this thing called ptsd????

when hosea and bessie want to have a nice, quiet romantic dinner by themselves they put sensory videos on the tv and all the boys just sit there silently

#rdr2 modern au #bessie matthews #hosea matthews #sean macguire #lenny summers #kieran duffy #rdr2 timewarp au

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