#mechanical bullride

[shojizbae]

Yeehaw!

Spencer Reid x reader

Warnings: This is spicy! Use of alcohol, behind drunk/drunk sex, Oral fem! receiving, cowgirl position

Everyone could tell with just one look at you that you were Southern. That being said, anytime there was a case in the South, everyone knew to take a step back and let you lead. This time, there was a string of murders in Aiken, South Carolina, and the team knew that you were all over it.

"Weren't you from a Carolina?" Derek chuckles as we board the jet.

"Yeah, I spent most of my time on Camp Lejeune with my daddy, then I went south for college in Charleston."

"So that means Hotch has been demoted for this." Emily snickers

"No, I just know the South, and I'll get a little gun-happy when I'm back home. It wouldn't be no different had we gone to Chicago, Derek."

"Wow, mama's go home heat today." We settle on the jet, and Hotch and Rossi debrief us. I take a nap as we head south, and unfortunately, the power of the state takes me over. I march up to the sheriff and flash my credentials.

"So, how's it happen?" The sheriff speaks in an accent so thick it makes grits look like juice. I glance at the team, and they seem to sigh in relief when they realize I can understand him. Tirelessly, we worked the case for 73 hours. We met at a fresh crime scene every morning. The unsub seemed to be in a frenzy. He was dangerous and mixed with a high concentration of amphetamine addiction in this area. It was likely he had no clue he was killing.

But, due to the trace amounts of meth, we knew that he was unstable and would trip up eventually. We got some sleep after the fourth body, and there was a trip up in the morning. A fifth, but he had left some of his powdered sugar at the crime scene.

I put a glove on and lifted the little baggie, showing it off to Reid.

"Hey, Spencer, check this out."

"Hey, I've been clean for years," He mopes

"Aw, I'm sorry, sugar," A detective approaches me with an evidence bag. "Here, swab it and run this through CODIS." Spencer and I kept sweeping the crime scene for any molecule of evidence. Nothing all that exciting. The killer left the knife in her this time. Indicative of the fact that they were out of control. I squat next to the body and ghost my fingers over the entrance wound.

"Hey Spencer," He perks up like a gopher, "If you were going to kill someone and you were going to stab them to death, how'd you do it?"

"Are you sure that's an appropriate question?"

"I'm just curious."

"I'd probably use something with a curved blade. It would do the most damage and be the hardest to remove." His eyes go kind of dead, as he explains. An awkward air hangs between the two of us as we survey the wound.

"Damn, Spence, that's messed up."

"You asked." He sasses

Not later that evening, a woman called to suspect a strange man was in her house. We move in immediately and find a man pacing in circles in the bathroom. He's violent and angry, and his nose is bleeding. He tried to swing a knife at Morgan, but I grabbed him by the wrist and slammed his head into the wall. I use my hips to push him forward and cuff him while Emily helps the woman safely out of her house.

I march him to the car while he screams that I'm a bastard whore. Finally, I shoved him into the police car and muttered a good riddance. I even patted my hands like a baker getting flour off.

"I need a drink." I put my hands on my hips

"I could use something to cool off, too. This southern heat can be beat." Derek wipes his brow

"Hotch you think we have the leeway to spend the night here?" Emily asks

"That's all up to JJ, anything pressing enough that we need to get back to Quantico?"

"Well, nothing too scary that we couldn't cut loose after working for six days straight." She smiles at the team

Hours later, we showered, ate a full meal at a steakhouse, and put on the nicest clothes in our go-bags. The team was shocked to discover I had a cowboy hat in my bag. We moseyed our way to the bar, a small dive bar with a pool table. A mechanical bull is in the center of the room, and my eyes light up at the memories. Rossie buys us a pitcher of beer, and we all unwind from the stressful week.

As we knock 'em back slowly and let college stories fly, the team starts to forget what we had seen. Rossi tells us some funny stories about going to college during the summer of love, and Reid accidentally brags about going to Cal Tech.

"Well, what about you? Didn't you go to school nearby?" Emily says as she refills her glass.

"Uh yeah, in Charleston, South Carolina." I clarify

"So you must have spent most of your nights like this." Derek motions around the bar, playing honky-tonk music. Pool balls clack around us, and there's a thin layer of dirt around the edge of the bar.

"Well, most nights I spent in my dorm or the library. Every other Saturday, my roommate and neighbors would go to a dive named Fat Daddy's. We would make bets with the alcoholic dads about being able to ride the bull, and if we stayed on longer than they said so, they'd buy us all a drink. I didn't pay for my own liquor for three semesters." The team stood in shock. Hotch's jaw was agape and Rossi just nodded his chin in acknowledgement.

"Well, now, baby girl, I have to see you in action." Derek almost commands

"No, I ain't dressed right. And ain't nobody betted me."

"I bet you won't last seven seconds on the mechanical bull," Spencer interjects "If you do, I'll buy you that coconut margarita that you've been eyeing."

"Alrght, there's my bet." I march up to the bartender "I'm'onna ride that bull." I point at it and he looks me hat to boot.

"Alright," The bartender seems disinterested. He hits a button, and lights around the bull flash like a carnival. I draw the attention of the whole bar as a pre-recorded announcer calls me a brave challenger.

Big men with fat beer bellies gather around, and I readjust my top. If I play my cards right, I might get more than a coconut margarita out of this. I'm not wearing anything too special—just one of my combat scoop-neck tees and low-rise daisy dukes. The bartender offers his hand, and I use it to mount the big plastic bull.

"You ready, little girl?" He asks

"Yes sir." I grip onto the handle at the 'bull's nape and a bell rings. Slowly the bull starts lurching forward and back while exciting music bounces around the bar.

one Mississippi

The bull speeds up

'ride it, cowgirl!" Derek yells from the edge of the bull enclosure

two Mississippi

It starts going sideways

three Mississippi

I fake with my appearance that I'm struggling and readjust my grip

four Mississippi

I use my hips to grind with the rhythm of the bull as men whoop and cheer

five Mississippi, six Mississippi

My heart starts to thump against my ribs

Seven Mississippi, I win.

The team cheers for me. I keep going, getting bold enough to grind more dramatically. I hear more whoops and hollers as I lift my arms and squee. Someone yells, and another man whistles. I hold onto my hat as the bull speeds up, and I feel my shirt lift.

'Yeehaw!' I hear, and the bar just erupts. I feel so full of life, and I jump up on the bull, riding it like a surfboard. I drop down and sit backward on the bull. I twist around and ride the bull until the bartender slows it down.

"You done broke our record. 39 seconds on the highest speed." The bar screams in glee, and the team closes in on me, handing out high fives. Reid hangs behind the group, and I see him ask Derek a question

"Did you know that (Y/n) has a stomach tattoo?"

"Wow (Y/n), that was incredible." Emily looks starstruck

"I told you I didn't pay for a drink for 18 months." I give JJ a hug, and Reid emerges from the crowd

"I guess I owe you a drink." He smiles, and I fidget with the hem of my shirt

"One coconut margarita, please, sir." He leads me to the bar, where the bartender makes one for me. I hold the glass up to his face, and Reid takes the first sip.

"No, that's fine," He pushes the glass from his cheek

"C'mon, you paid for it."

"Listen, you know that coercion isn't a great thing to do. Most serial killers are more coercive than a skeezy lawyer."

"Aw, you're using my metaphors." I coo and step closer to his chest

"When did you become so flirty?" he braces me on the hip

"All that shaking around must have got the beer movin' in me." I giggle and sip on my glass. "I saw you askin' Derek 'bout my tattoo. y' wanna see it?" I start to roll up my shirt

"No, no, that's fine," He holds my wrist to stop me. "Why don't we get you some water."

"No, this is yummy." I smile and down the cup. He grimaces at the action and tries to walk me over to our table

"Hey, Spencer, you wanna know why I'm so good at riding that thing?" I halt to play with the button of his shirt, and he stops, too.

"Uh sure," He swallows

"Ever the curious doctor," I slur. I'm good with the bull because I love riding," I whisper drunkenly in his ear. He swallows hard and tries to shimmy us back to our table. His hands shake as he grips my tricep.

"Why're you so nervous?" I ask the side of his jaw. My voice swings up an octave, but I snort as I survey the team.

"The liquor got to her quick. I'm gonna get her back to the hotel."

"Oooh, why don't you take me someplace fancy," I tease

"Well, make sure you use protection." Derek snorts as he lifts a brown bottle to his lips

"Aw, you ain't gotta worry. I've got an IUD." Spencer soothes my sentence with a pat on my shoulder, and I slide a hand down his back

"That won't be a problem. I'm just going to ensure she has water, Advil, and comfortable clothes." He jumps away as I make an attempt to grab his butt.

"You sure you don't want either of us to take her?" JJ offers and points between Emily and herself. I rest my head on his chest. I can feel his heart pounding against my temple.

"You gonna take good care of me, Doctor?" I smile up at his concerned face

"I'm not that kind of doctor." He scolds. He helps seatbelt me into one of two FBI SUVs. Slowly and carefully, he drives me to the highway motel we were placed in, and he marches me into my room.

"Alright, are you sober enough to shower?" He sits me on the bed, and the mattress shrieks beneath me

"Yeah, so long as you help me get my shirt off."

"No, I won't be doing that," He finds a glass and fills it with water. He digs in my go-bag and finds the bottle of Advil. He drops two in his hand and gives them to me as well as the cup. "Drink this," he tucks some hair behind his ears.

"My feet hurt," I whine and put the pills in my mouth.

"Well, you're wearing those ridiculous boots," He stressfully tucks some hair behind his ears

"They ain't ridiculous." Stick out a foot and twist it to see the whole design, "Maybe a little flashy." I tuck my foot in and look up at him. "Will you calm down if you held me out of these sugar?"

"Yeah, sure." He kneels down and tugs each of my boots off, and lines them up with the rest of my shoes.

"Aww, you're so caring. C'mere sugar." Reluctantly, he finds me on the mattress, and I pat it next to me. He's hesitant, but he sits, and I lean against him. "Hey, Spencer?"

"Yes, (Y/n)?"

"You wanna ask about my tattoo?"

"No,"

"Really, because you keep glancing down at my stomach. I may be a drunk one, but I am a profiler. What about it? Gets you going so much?"

"What?" He scoffs in shock "It doesn't 'get me going'." I hold onto his arm

"Really? Because I'm pushin' my tits against you, and you're still lookin' at my stomach."

"I uh I'm not." He's distracted enough that I can swing my legs across his lap "(Y/n), this is really inappropriate conduct for coworkers."

"I ain't on the clock," I slowly drag my shirt up to reveal the design. Two big blossoms of overlapping lavender and olive flowers. Any protests he tries to make are halted as he studies the image.

"These ones, "I guide his apprehensive hand as hi pointer finger traces my stomach "Are olive blossoms, they stand for peace. and these are lavenders."

"They mean feminity and grace." He clears his throat

"I've got more," I whisper playfully

"C-can I see them?" He swallows. I cross my arms at the hem of my shirt and pull it off, lifting the hem of my bralette.

"There's some text under my boobs."

"te amo para siempre." He reads without an accent, so it sounds stilted. "Did you get that for a boyfriend?"

"No, it's something my grandpa used to tell me." he runs his thumb over the cursive, "And on my collarbones." I guide his wrist to my right clavicle.

"'An eye for an eye,' I guided him across my chest, and he traced like he was reading braille.' leaves the whole world blind.' He connected his eyes with mine. His pupils were real big.

"Aw gee, I just realized I'm a little underdressed."

"Of course," he shifts around to encourage me to get off

"Uh uh, it could be you're just overdressed," I hold onto the knot in his tie

"No (Y/n),"

"You know, darling, your mouth is saying no, but your body is saying yes." I slide my hips forward and feel him suppress a shudder. I direct his head to look at me with blown-wide puppy dog eyes. "Maybe we should tell your mouth to let your body take over." I sink my lips against him, and he melts into me. Our lips smack as he pulls away

"(y/n), no, this isn't professional," he tries to disable my arms as I slide his tie knot apart

"Well, that's good. If I were professional, you get a hotel in a local jail for soliciting a prostitute." I get the knot loose and free his neck, making headway on the buttons. He shiftsbutI kiss his complaints away. Soon, sounds of complaint turn to moans as he succumbs to his body.

"Hey, Spencer," I pull away briefly and chew on my lip at the view. His hair is fluffed, and the top half of his shirt is flipped open. "I've got one more tattoo, and I think you'd really like it."

"I would?" he pushes his hair back "Why." I give him a peck as I reach for the button on my shorts. He grabs my hand and undoes the button himself. I guide his hand to the zipper, and he tugs it down. Instead of shimmying out of the shorts, I hook his finger in the elastic of my underwear. He pulls it down just enough to read the black text that slowly faded to show green.

"C6H12O6?"

"Yeah, you remember what that means?"

"It's the chemical formula for sugar." He snaps the underwear back into place, and I jump at the sensation, "Why?"

"Because I'm so sweet." I dive back in and kiss him. Heated aggressively like he's got the last cup of water on his tongue. He reaches into my hair to steady me, and with his second hand, he grabs my hip. I continue to unbutton his shirt until he shores it off into the distance.

"Well, look how handsome you are," I watch him blush, but I run my hands up his chest and over his collarbones. He blushes but guides my hand to his belt buckle. I love the sound a belt buckle makes. Before I can get his pants off him, Spencer surprises me. He picks us up and twists us, so my back slaps against the squeaky mattress.

He slithers down my body, kissing down the various tattoos. Gently, he slides his fingers into the waistband of my jeans. He slides them down and separates each of my knees. Almost entranced he licks up the gray cotton panties I wore.

"Spencer!' I moan in shock

"Please, this is my favorite part." He pulls the underwear off and tosses it to the side. I don't protest any further. It's rare to find a guy willing to go down on me, much less one that initiates. He wraps his arms around my thighs and places my knees at his shoulders. He wastes no time diving in.

With every man I've slept with, I've never felt someone go down on me with such fervor and skill. I'm taken down. He clings onto my clit with desperation. He drops my right leg so that he can trace gentle circles around my pussy.

"Spenc- Uh"

"Sh-sh -shh, just relax." He soothes me and rubs my inner thigh. I try to look down at him, but as he continues his ministrations, I lose my strength and flop my head back. Slowly, he sinks his pointer finger in, and I take a sharp inhale.

"Spe-EUUh!" His skill is shocking as he slowly moves his finger in and out. Once I was acclimated, he pulled out and put both his pointer and middle in. I do my best to suppress it for the comfort of the surrounding guests.

"Don't hide from me." He comes up and looks my face over

"There's other people around, Spencer."

"Then let them hear." He places a kiss on my forehead and sinks down to continue devouring me. I don't hold back as much as I'm embarrassed. He starts a 'come hither' motion and I roll my hips up into his face. He braces a hand on my hip.

"Sit still." He commands

Steadily, I felt a climax rising in me. I felt the muscles in my stomach clenching and tensing. I feel like yellow waves of pleasure ripple through my body.

"SPE—Spencerr, I'm gonna!" I desperately reached around and threaded my fingers into his hair. With my other hand, I felt around for the disheveled comforter. I balled my hands into a fist around what I held: his hair and the blanket. I climaxed faster than I had expected. Accidentally, I locked Spencer in with my legs. Desperate to keep the pleasure close to me.

It took me a moment to catch my breath. When I came to, I released my legs, and he resurfaced, wiping his mouth as he checked on me.

"How are you doing? Was that any good?"

"Good?" I gaped, and I saw him crumble a little in insecurity. Spencer, that was the best head I've ever had." He chuckled boyishly as I held his pants so he lay on top of me.

"Spencer?" I ask slowly

"Yeah," He kisses me on the side of the mouth

"I'm gonna fuck you now,"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," I sit him up and unzip his pants and pull them down. His legs are ridiculously long, and it feels like an eternity to get him naked. I geek at his boxers. His cock is jumping against the fabric, and there is a small precum stain. I rub over the fabric, and he keens into my touch.

"Aww, so you're all talk," I tease

"S-shut up, you were just writhing under me." He leans back on his arms. The veins in his forearms are bulging, and I can see his stomach shift as he shifts under my pawing.

"Yeah, and now you will be."

I slide my fingers under the elastic, and he lifts his hips to help me free him. Gently, I stroke him, and he gulps back and moans. I mount him, letting Spencer guide himself into me. I sigh as I feel him slide in, and his hands gravitate to my hips.

"Woah," he grunts. It's probably the strangest reaction I've gotten, but I appreciate being such a stunner.

"How are you doing, Reid?"

"I-I'm sublime. How are you?" I shift my hips in contemplation, feeling my eyes pool in the back of my head.

"Oh, I'm doing-g just-" My sentence cuts itself off as the head of his dick kisses a sweet spot inside me. "Can you just give me a little boost?" He holds each of my hips and drags me across my lap.

"Oh fuck," I sigh, and I pick my hips up. We fall into a sensual rhythm as the world disappears around us. "Spencer, that feels so..." My forehead collapses against his collarbone. There's something about his dick that itches a scratch I didn't know I was feeling. Similarly, he mews below me.

"(Y/n)," he groans out below me "Don't stop." and I don't. Instead, I pick up the pace. I brace myself on his shoulders and slam my hips back and forth until my thighs burn. And when the sensation becomes overwhelming I keep fighting.

"Oh my- uh," He groans beneath me "(Y/n), (Y/n), I'm gonna cum." He sounds desperate. "(Y/n) you have to get off." He whimpers

"No, I'm gonna cum too. I won't-" I keep my hips galloping against his thighs, "PLEase- fuck, I'm gonna." I feel his cock twitch inside me, and warmth spreads through my thighs.

"Uh, nice and deep." I halt myself for a second," Spencer I gotta keep going."

"M'kay." I ride with such speed that I'm scared the legs on the bed will snap. Finally, I feel the point of no return—like watching a slow vase fall over, knowing you're too far away to stop it. I came. My knees buckled, and I fell chest-first onto Reid.

"Are you okay?" He holds my back steady and gently rubs my spine, and I catch my breath.

"Yeah, I'm okay." I sit myself up, and Spencer tucks some frizzy hair behind my ear. "Probably some of the sex I've had in... ever." His face lights up. I use his shoulder to stand up, and I feel it slide down my thigh.

"I'm gonna need a shower, but there's always room for two." I smile and trot off to the ensuite. It's not long before Spencer is chasing me behind the vinyl curtain to wet his hair and press a kiss to the back of my shoulder.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #the south #mechanical bullride #smut

[emismunch]

❝ LONG NIGHT, LONG RIDE ❞ ✶ ABBY ANDERSON !

★⠀warning y disclaimers — eighteen+, nsfw themes, country!abby, petname usage (sweetheart, darling), mechanical bullrider!abby, abby is a big ass flirt, kinda shy!reader, dub-con (alcohol involved). 

RAY RAMBLES ★ idk a random thought and i kinda ran with it. if you like, i have a part in mind with smut for my slutty friends. to be continued ...

you’ve never seen a woman move like she did. it wasn’t the first time you’d seen her there. nestled deep in the heart of texas, tattered-blue denim jeans hugging her thick thighs deliciously, white tank top accentuating her toned abdomen. worn-in brown boots on her feet, blonde hair as carefree as she appeared, hips in sync with the mechanic bull as her skillful hips ride as the operator strategically tries to rid her off of it. s’not an easy task by any means. 

she has the face you can’t quite seem to forget. you never really do. it’s become a ritual of yours. every friday night, you end up in this rundown bar, the only one in this nothing town. maybe it’s pathetic to pine over someone so clearly out of your league. but she’s easy on the eyes, the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen. surely, it wouldn’t hurt to just look. 

the girl of your dreams is riding the bull again, and looking goddamn hot doing it. possibly even hotter than this texas heat in the beginning of summer’s warmth. someone as muscular, toned, and broad as her shouldn’t be doing it so gracefully. it’s been a month of watching her. every friday night you nurse the ice bear, condensation dripping down to your fingertips, soaking your wrists as the liquid drips further. 

she’s making quite the show of it tonight. anderson, ever the performer. 

the only name you’ve heard being used, quite loose lips of the small town groupies. apparently, anderson, is the talk of the town and tonight the girls next to you at the bar are as chatty as ever. you only pick up remnants. bits and pieces of their drunken gossip. 

she broke up with her girlfriend. been two months actually according to nora. time to make a move. 

anderson wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole. 

whatever. i’m going to make sure she’s riding me tonight. you’ll see. 

you force yourself to disengage the eavesdropping and look away from the scene of her riding the bull. you’ve seen her do it so many times you know it’ll be over soon. it’s pathetic how you know that in the first place. 

you’ll leave soon, the commitment of work bright and early looks over your intoxicated brain. but then you hear loud boots stomping their way to you. looking over you notice it’s her and she makes conversation with the bartender as she sips on the chilled bottle of beer. 

“seen you here every friday for the best month, darling. do you like the show?” anderson chuckles as her body inches forward. her thumb picking at label on her beverage.

she’s noticed you before? 

“mhm, not sure. still trying to figure out if i do.” 

she nods smoothly, amping you nerves as she scoots the bar stool closer to yours, before taking a seat. meaty, strong, legs opened wide as they rest on each side, supporting the weight of her built frame.

“hm.” she hums, watching as you take another swing of your beer. 

she opens her mouth, more of her southern drawl seeping out but the girls from before manage to squeeze through the small space between you and the mysteriously hot woman who occupies your brain. 

“anderson, you look really good tonight.” the girl from before resurfaces, her sultry tone sharp enough to cut through the entire room, her hands making connection with her toned, freckled bicep descending down her forearm. you make yourself scarce to the bathroom, not enjoying the sudden storm in your stomach. 

it’s just there. 

jealousy storming it before you could even stop it. it’s clear anderson is more than sought after. she’s everyone’s dream, yourself included. you’ve had one short lived conversation. maybe she’s an asshole, a cheater, an ego the size of this massive state.

it’s what you told yourself as you washed your hands in the washroom. it’s the only thing you could tell yourself. the hint of rejection was even more unsettling so you decided to pay your tab and get the hell out of here. 

the vibrator tucked in your nightstand drawer had never done you wrong. why break a good thing? right? god, there’s never been a more pathetic moment on earth. you and your wand against the world of scorned loneliness. but then she’s in there with you. you’re frozen, unable to move as walks in. confidently, resting her broad back against the wooden door. the single use bathroom does not give you much room to breathe. 

anderson crosses her arms, muscles flexing as her arms visibly look bigger, as if they weren’t already delicious enough. she looks down as you’re slightly bent over the short sink, suddenly taking interest in your ass. 

well, it seems sudden to you. 

“you really didn’t have to run off.” she tuts, as you find her frame in the mirror. you swear she bucks her hips slightly but you must be imagining it. taking note of her golden locks flowing past her sculpted shoulders, brown stetson hat concealing her eyes from you, for the most part.

“i don’t know. you seem pretty preoccupied. didn’t wanna put a damper on your night.” once you were done rinsing your hands, you turned around, arms placed at your side. every single bone of your body incredibly nervous to speak with her. especially to be alone together.

“besides, it seems like you have a lot of fans mesmerized by you, anderson. everyone seems to talk about you.” 

“maybe? but i wanna talk to you, darling.” pushing off the door, anderson inches herself closer towards you.

“would this be something you want? my attention?” raising her head, tilting it to the side as she awaits your response. 

“you’re… forward.” you grasp at straws, trying to find the right words but nothing seems right. 

“jus’ know what i want when i see it.” anderson admits. you’re not sure what to think. the sinfully hot woman, everyone’s vying for her attention, and she’s decided to extend her interest in you. why? you’re not sure. “what?” 

“i-i just don’t know what to say to you, anderson.” she smirks, the sly smile of hers on display. “anderson, huh?” 

“isn’t that your name?” you perch yourself onto the sink. clearly, you’re not going anywhere anytime soon. “sort of. it’s what everyone here knows at least. but you should call me by my name. my real one.” 

you’re honored with a privilege, a simple one, just for you. it’s intoxicating how special she can make you feel. your heart beating out of your chest the more she takes. affecting all and any rational thought occupying your brain. it’s just her. 

“abigail, but you can call me abby. abs.” she takes a few steps forward inching closer to the space between your open thighs.

“whatever you want, really. as long as these pretty lips are talking to me. hm? how does that sound to you?” 

you visibly gulp as  she inches closer and closer…

“uh, um, abigail’s pretty.” she’s got you now. utterly fucking trapped. 

abby chuckles. if she wasn’t this hot, it would be downright condescending. “mmm, think i’m pretty, sweetheart?” she’s so sure of what she wants, eyes set on you and it’s s’much to handle. the trap’s been set and you’re falling into her southern charm far easier than you would have if it were anyone else.

you barely nod your head, shyly biting your lip. finally, giving her something to work with. abby’s thinking about devouring you whole, eating you right up, bringing you home with her, pulling you into her bedroom, tearing you apart in every way she knows how. 

the light shining in your eyes makes her think you’d let her. 

“y-yeah, i do.” abby makes home between your thighs, standing at her full height, stammering six feet tall. firmly grabbing your legs before wrapping them around her torso. “bet you do, sweetheart. i’m sure you think about all sorts of things, especially about me.” 

your breath hitches as abby removes her hat, shaking her blonde hair to the side, sunkissed skin even more exquisite up close. freckled cheeks, the adorable bump in her nose, her nipples hard and now poking through the tank top, chest nearly against yours as she wedges herself impossibly close to you. perfectly shaped lips moving closer to yours. 

“why don’t you tell me what you think about when i’m riding the bull? when my hips roll, my head tossed back, and my back arched. be a sweetheart and tell me, darling.” her hat is placed in free hand while the other softly grips your chin, thumb smoothing over the soft skin.

“be real good and tell me.” 

you pause for a moment, doing your best not to fumble over your words, just this once. 

“most of the time, i can’t stop looking at your hips. how in control you look, so confident and my mind just…drifts.” you linger, eyes meeting her baby blues and fuck. fuck. fuck. 

you’ve never been so doomed to fall. 

“darling, don’t leave me hanging. what does it drift to?” abby asks, dipping her lips to your neck, ghosting over the access point, until she lightly kisses at your collarbones. so light, it makes you question if this is just some cruel, fever dream you’ll wake up from.

“shit.” abby takes it as a sign to continue her lips dip into your chest, hardly divulging to where you need her, before she’s ascending back up to your neck. “you gonna be good for me?” she whispers in your ear, her breath calm and even. 

you nod and abby bites your ear playfully as you moan, pulling her in by your legs. “hm, if i keep whispering pretty little things in your ear? can you handle me, sweetheart?” her southern accent further cementing you in her honey grip. 

“maybe? i don’t know. fuck, yes?” abby giggles, her voice dropping an octave as she goes in for the kill. “oh sweetheart. i might just kill this pussy of yours with what i have to say next.” on instinct, your hands tangle themselves into the root of her blonde hair, tugging her closer to you. wanting to suffocate her in your scent, but she’s already halfway there. 

“abigail, just say it. please?” she nods, loving how you’re already using your manners. fuck, so good for her already, not even having to ask twice. abby feels the heartbeat of her clit stirring in her pants as it chases the sound of your voice. she’s so feral, already. yeah, you may feel like a goner but if only you knew she is by far so much worse. 

“i noticed you the first night. those pretty fucking eyes staring at me. wouldn’t fucking leave me for anything, even when the bartender was trying to get your attention. those bambi eyes on me, bright eyed and practically begging for me….” abby’s purposely whines in your ear, causing you to grind into her. she can’t stop the chuckle leaving her lips. 

“you’re being mean. just tell me.” abby pauses as she grins like the cheshire cat. you tug her hair back tightly, the moan she emits is loud. her eyes nearly roll back into her head, but she’s able to stop it before it goes too far. before you push her to the subspace she can so easily get to when push comes to shove. for now, she’ll bask in the dominance. 

all of it so new, so fresh. “oh, i’m being mean?” abby threatens cockily. “i have  been awfully mean, huh? letting those pretty girls flirt with me right in front of you.” she kisses lightly underneath your ear before continuing.

“been thinking about you the last couple of weeks when i’m riding.” abby teases.

“you do?” your jaw slacks, your grip on abby’s head releases. “sure have, darling. m’thinking about how you want to ride me instead. pretty thighs rubbing together when you’d look my way.” abby’s hand drops to your thigh, rubbing your inner thighs with her thumb. basking in how you open them even wider, unprompted. just a small mention and you’re right back to her riding the bull. whimpered out for her, needing her to do anything, something. 

“why don’t we get out of here and you can come home with me?” she pleads, pressing a kiss to your temple. sweet and sultry with half-lidded eyes looking at you. your eyes looking at the hat in your hands. 

you nod, “yeah, i’d like that.” shyly, scratching the nape of your neck. 

“are you going to put your hat back on?” 

“mhm, not sure.” abby bites the inside of her cheek, anxious as the next thought plagues her mind. you won’t know what a big deal it is, but everyone in the bar will know. she will know, but you won’t and somehow it makes it easier when the request flies off her lips. 

“you could wear it? if you want, sweetheart.” abby asks sweetly. you’re quiet for a moment, pondering. “who knows. might be too big or too small.” you shrug your shoulders as if you’re not interested. 

“well, why don’t we try then, sweetheart? won’t know until you do.” she maneuvers the white cowboy hat, placing it carefully in your head. 

you smile happily at her. “look! a perfect fit.” 

abby knows there’s not a damn soul who looks better than you. “yeah, sure is perfect.”

DAILY CLICK + DONT BUY TLOU + DONATE

#I MISSED WRITING ABOUT MY GIRL #more abby content coming very soon <3 #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson fluff #the last of us #country!abby #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x poc reader #tlou x reader #abby anderson smut

[ynbabe]

for a request: american motogp rider or bullrider!reader whos from the south x logan sargeant. i’m picturing a male reader but it can be fem 🫶

I've chosen Bullrider! Reader but I don't know jack shit about it lmao 😭

Southern hospitality ୨୧ Logan Sargeant x Male!Reader

Miami GP was good luck for Logan. It was almost like the car and track knew it was his home, he felt faster, stronger, and better on that track but it might also have been the looming threat of losing his job. The constant questioning of his talent and hard work.

He was also totally ignoring the mess that was his personal life, not that he had much outside of F1.

"Knock Knock," Someone tapped his head and declared with a smile in his voice.

"Wh- Alex?" He looked up at his teammate who sheepishly but not apologetically smiled back, skin pink from the sun.

"What were you thinking about?" He asked stealing Logan's 'panic spot' behind the motor home where he was leaning on some old tyres, though any spot could be a panic spot if Logan walked in.

This time he was nudged out of his head, "You're doing it again," he stated, a soft look too close to pity for comfort in his eyes.

"Nah man nothing much, home race and all you know?" He lied and Alex looked least convinced but they were both interrupted by the door opening.

"Hey guys, we've got some PR stuff to do," someone from the team announced. Of course, he was definitely gonna have to skip lunch today as well.

He kept replying to Alex's chatting, still convinced the older man suspected he was lying. He was okay, why wouldn't he be?

"O-oh my god," Alex interrupted himself and pushed an arm in front of Logan, making the blonde boy stop in his tracks confused. "Is that a real-life cowboy?" He all but screamed making Logan look around till he spotted a tanned man with y/h/c hair wearing a leather cowboy hat.

As they reached closer they could hear the thick southern accent the man had, around him were a few of the mechanics, some taking photos and others staring intently at his face or rather his chiselled chest that could be seen through the half-open white shirt the man wore.

"What the fuck?" For the first time in a long time, Logan's mind was clear.

"Logan, stop drooling, I get it but we're in public," Alex chastised, laughing while he pushed the both of them ahead.

Now Logan prided himself on being a mature guy, even as a kid everyone told him so, so why was he pulling and jumping over Alex like a teenage boy trying to show off in front of this really really attractive stranger?

The stopped just as they reached you, Alex's Pr manager was standing there already, looking annoyed at the two for being late.

"Y/n," He called the man who excused himself and walked over to where they were standing, "Logan, Alex, this is Y/n L/n our celebrity guest for Miami,"

The man in front of him laughed, his y/e/c eyes crinkling as he did.

“Now I wouldn’t say celebrity, but thank you sir,” he commented and the older man nodded, a stricter nod was given to Logan and Alex but both chose to ignore that.

They walked towards a shaded area, Y/n leading them, “Now I would say y’all are the real celebrities, drivin’ those cars at a million miles,” his voice (the accent) raised the hair at the back of Logan’s neck.

“Hahaha, thank you so much, so what do you do?” Alex asked, which made Logan glare at man, that was such a rude question! He could be a nepo-baby, it’s America Alex!

“Oh, I’m a bull rider,” he answered and suddenly Logan was chocking on air, it’s not his fault his brain was disgusting! “You okay, Sargeant,” the man, the literal bull rider had placed a hand on his shoulder and was asking him- wait what the fuck? Logan was a grown man, why is he acting like a teenage girl with a crush?

He straightened up, trying to clear his throat, “bull rider, huh,” he pointed to the hat, making the man smile, a slight blush spreading across his features.

“All a part of the brand, stole it from a teammate and it stuck,” he made a pained expression, half joking.

“Do you know J.B. Mauney?” Alex asked, reminding Logan that he was still there.

"Oh Lord," Y/n laughed, "He's my teammate," now it was Alex's turn to swoon.

"Really? Oh my God, he's so cool! My for you page is filled with his edits!" Alex told the man in front of him and the second-hand embarrassment Logan felt could have killed him only Alex didn't seem embarrassed at all, in fact, he was doubling down on the simp parade.

"Between you an' I, I had a pretty darn big crush on that man too," he confessed, winking at Logan. "I think you boys need to get goin' now but how bout we catch lunch? I heard they don't feed you good round here," Logan turned around and saw someone call for them and missed the way Alex looked between the two men standing significantly closer together than needed.

"Unfortunately, I've got a little lunch date with Lily," Alex feigned sadness but smiled wide.

Y/n turned to the blonde, raising a brow to which Logan couldn't help but nod yes.

As they walked away, Logan still reeling from the butterflies he got in his stomach every time the other man spoke, Alex bumped into him, giggling, "You are so welcome, mate," he laughed and walked into the building.

y/n/l/nofficial

y/n/l/nofficial told him not to eat the wasabi 🤷‍♂️

username Is this a soft launch?

username Oh?

username IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN MEEEEE

username Istg I've seen that blonde before

username ong that hoodie too

You knew you had forgotten to tag Logan but you never expected people to expect he was your boyfriend! That post wasn't even that suggestive, was it? Oh god, it was going to be so embarrassing!

"Hey, Y/n you good?" Your teammate asked you causing you to throw your phone at the man, who laughed at the comments.

"This is why we keep PR managers, cowboy," he threw it back to you, "Hey at least you got another bull outta it-" he teased making you throw your pillow at him which he laughed at rushing out the room.

Your hand trembled over Logan's chat. Should you invite him out again? The lunch invitation already had you sweating under your collar like a thief in church. Why was talking to that Floridian getting you so nervous? You balanced on live bulls for a damn living!

Okay, oh god why wasn't he responding. You really fucked this up, next time you went out you were going to let that bull throw you nine ways to Sunday and then some more.

Could you blame this on autocorrect? Yeah, of course, everyone knew what a nuisance that damn thing was.

In the middle of your spiral, you got a few notifications, hoping it was Logan you quickly checked your phone, almost dropping it in the process.

logansargeant

logansargeant Southern Hospitality 🫡

username sir? Bro? Pookie bear? Come back home the kids miss you 😭

username Forgive me I wasn't aware of your game

username Guys can't they just be friends???

alexalbon You're welcome 🥰

username GIRL- WHAT DO YOU KNOW????

username IS THAT @/y/n/l/noffical

username I'D KNOW THAT DAMN SMILE ANYWHERE Stgsiagdfki

Request 1/5- DONE!! Updates will be weekly as I wanna make sure I get the best quality of each fic but TRUST your ask will be answered cause most are abt Logan and we stan that American boy in this damn blog here 😤

As always pls do let me know how y'all like the fic!! comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

#f1 #formula 1 #logan sargeant #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x male reader #alex albon #f1 social media au #f1 smau #anon request #thank u anon #anon ask

[dameronscopilot]

Asking Mitch Keller about his bullriding days turns into either him giving you a cock riding lesson or you showing him how good at it you are already

(i love the way you think, nonnie)

Just Like That

Mitch Keller x f!reader

Summary: One thing leads to another during a conversation about Mitch's days on the circuit, and you find yourself straddling his lap as the ex-bull rider gives you the ride of your life.

Word Count: 1.9k

Rating: 18+ EXPLICIT

Content: NSFW, smut, dry humping, fingering, unprotected p in v, creampie, size kink, cockwarming, praise kink

“Honey, no offense, but you’d get bucked right off.”

You cross your arms with a huff, and Mitch chuckles, mustache twitching as the corners of his lips curve upward in amusement.

Ever since you secured the weekly Sunday night performance spot at Bred 2 Buck—in which you regularly play a laid back acoustic set for the tail end of the weekend’s mellow crowd—you’ve fallen into a quick and easy friendship with the bar’s owner, Mitch Keller. 

Following your set this evening, you had found yourself seated at the bar counter, absorbed in conversation with him about his famed bull riding days. And though you’d brought up the topic at hand partially because you were incredibly curious about his time on the circuit, you also did it for a much more self-serving reason: it gave you the opportunity to experience the way his blue eyes lit up with fondness upon recalling the memories, a boyish grin that left your heart fluttering in your chest tracking its way across his face.

When last call rolled around, your discussion was far from over, as you found yourself hanging on to Mitch’s every word (and each movement of his lips, if you were being honest) as he regaled a particularly harrowing rodeo story. And thus he’d invited you back to his place for the first time, which is how you now find yourself seated in his living room, arguing over your own potential merits as a bull rider.

“I feel like I’d last for a couple of seconds at least,” you protest. “I rode a mechanical bull once.”

“That…definitely ain’t the same thing,” he replies, running a hand over his beard.

Mitch raises an eyebrow when you stand up and stride over to where he’s seated on the couch, reaching out and plucking his hat off of his head, tossing it onto the coffee table behind you.

“Show me what it’s like, then.”

Hoping like hell you haven’t been misreading whatever’s been quietly simmering between the two of you for weeks on end, you climb into Mitch’s lap and straddle his thighs, letting your knees press down into the couch cushion as the skirt of your dress rides upward.

He goes still, clearly not having anticipated this particular turn of events, and his gaze bores into yours for a moment as he waits to see if you’re serious.

When you wiggle for emphasis, he darts his tongue out of his mouth, running it over his teeth as he grins, looking down and shaking his head. “You sure? Think I might be a little out of practice, darlin’. Wouldn’t want to disappoint you.”

You catch the double meaning of his words, and some small part of you preens upon receiving this knowledge—the fact that, although many of the women that waltz into that bar do so with sultry hopes of going home with its handsome owner (something you quickly learned once you started playing there), success clearly hasn��t been on their side.

“Well let’s get you back in the saddle then, cowboy,” you smirk, toying with a lock of hair that’s come loose and fallen across his forehead. 

Bringing his large hands up to tentatively rest across the tops of your thighs, he tilts his head to the side, appraising you. “You got that backwards, ‘cause you’re the one in the saddle tonight.”

He rocks his hips upward just enough to throw you off balance, amusement rumbling in his chest when you pitch forward slightly. 

As you wrap your arms around his neck in an attempt to regain your balance, he tuts, “One hand. And it should be down here.”

Mitch takes one of your hands and places it over his belt, encouraging you to wrap your fingers around the leather. Remembering what constitutes a typical bull rider pose, you raise your left hand and let it hover in the air.

“Like this?”

The tone of his voice drips down your spine like molasses when he drawls, “Yeah, honey. Just like that.”

With his palms face down on either side of him, Mitch leans back and spreads his thighs slightly wider underneath you before he begins to roll his hips once more. His steady gaze remains focused on yours, watching the way you continuously fall out of sync with his movements.

“Move with me,” he instructs.

You heed his words, and as he begins to increase his pace, you fall into a smooth rhythm rocking in the cradle of his hips. But your focus begins to wane as you feel the evidence of his growing erection, the denim of his jeans pressing firmly into the sheer tights covering the wet warmth at the apex of your thighs with each and every thrust.

When Mitch ruts upward particularly hard, an involuntary gasp leaves your lips at the pleasure that rockets down your spine. Unable to stop yourself, you tug hard on his belt as you grind back down against his cock.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, starting to lose his composure.

Bringing his hands up to grasp your hips, he holds you tightly in place as he repeats his last movement, his heated gaze locked on your own. You thread your free hand into his hair, relishing the softness of his long locks for a moment before tugging his head backward as you take your turn chasing the friction of his shaft against your mound.

His mouth falls open slightly when do you so, and between one breath and the next, Mitch’s hands are cupping your face as he surges forward, lips seeking yours out in a hungry, belated kiss. The ache between your thighs begins to throb as his plush lips slide against yours, one hand sliding down to curl around the side of your neck, his thumb caressing your exposed collar bone. 

You let your jaw relax for Mitch when his tongue flirts with the seam of your lips, deepening the kiss, and at the feeling of his hand trailing down to stake claim over your lower back just above the swell of your ass, you desperately arch your body into him. 

“Mitch,” you whimper, panting as he nips at your bottom lip.

“What do you want, honey?” he asks calmly, as if he’s entirely unaware of the way your slick arousal has begun to seep through your underwear, leaving a damp mark where you’ve frantically been rubbing yourself against the front of his jeans.

Fingers skating across his belt buckle, you cup his shaft and squeeze. “I want you to fuck me while you’re showing me how to ride you.”

Mitch smirks, pushing up the skirt of your dress and letting both of his hands encircle the bend between your hips and your thighs, thumbs teasing where your stockings are now sopping wet. He groans appreciatively, reaching out and pinching the material between his fingers.

“Think we’re gonna need to get these off first then.”

“Just rip them, I don’t care,” you whine, too impatient to climb off of him. 

Clearly just as into the idea as you are, Mitch doesn’t hesitate to reach into his back pocket, flipping open his pocket knife. You sit still as he carefully grasps a fistful of the wet nylon, tugging it forward before slicing a hole into it, a fresh gush of arousal leaking into your underwear at the sight. He hooks a finger in your panties, and you shiver as the digit brushes against your folds.

“Hell, you’re so fuckin’ wet, honey,” he rasps, leaning forward to kiss you again while he slips his finger into your entrance.

The tension coiled within your gut squeezes tighter as he leans forward to kiss you languidly, adding a second finger and pumping them both in and out of your needy cunt. He swallows down the breathy moans that leave your lips, mouth moving with yours while you hastily reach out to take off his belt, tossing it aside before prying open his jeans.

He matches your moans of pleasure with his own when you wrap your fingers around his shaft, though the sounds briefly morph to amusement when you stop kissing him to glance down between the two of you with wide eyes. Your mouth begins to water as you drink in the sight of the long, thick cock in your hands, and your pussy aches with need at the thought of him splitting your tight little cunt open with it. 

Unable to wait any longer, you lift your body and line yourself up with the tip of his cock. Mitch’s fingers press into the sides of your thighs as you hover above him, and he looks up at you with lust-blown eyes while you begin to sink down onto his shaft. 

The living room is filled with a chorus of moans from your lips and his own as his cock slowly disappears into your body, inch by inch. Once his length is fully swallowed into the warmth of your cunt, he lets out a ragged breath, running a hand through his hair.

“You take me so damn good, sweetheart.”

Pleasure shoots down your spine at the praise, stoking the growing fire in your gut. 

Leaning in, you let your lips hover over his as you murmur, “Now show me how a real cowboy rides.”

Mitch’s lips come crashing into yours, and he grabs your hips, pulling you upward as he drags his cock out of your channel teasingly slow, only to slam it right back in. You barely have time to cry out before he does it again, sending a numbing wave of pleasure through your body as he ruthlessly splits your weeping cunt open.

With one hand tangled in his hair and the other gripping at his shoulder, you hold on tightly as Mitch begins to give you the fucking ride of your life, hips snapping up into yours at a brutal pace as he plunges in and out of your fluttering hole, your soaking wet cunt squelching with each pounding thrust. 

Mitch’s cock is so goddamn massive, the steady pressure as he drags it through your inner walls has tears pricking at the corners of your eyes while you writhe in his lap. But it feels so fucking good. You’re never felt so full in your life. 

You’re a moaning, whimpering, cock drunk mess, and he kisses you bruisingly as he reaches up to wipe away a stray tear that’s sliding down your cheek.

“You look fuckin’ beautiful like this,” he murmurs against your lips, voice low and rough.

At that, the pressure building inside of you bursts in a gushing wave of pleasure, and you grab onto Mitch desperately as your limbs tremble with the force of it. Soft, warm praise falls from his mouth as he fucks you through your climax, the words a direct contrast to the way he roughly continues to ravage your sensitive hole.

On the edge of his own orgasm, Mitch goes to lift you off of him, but you remain firmly in place as you plead, "I wanna feel you come inside of me.”

He sucks in a sharp breath at your request, and you cry out when he obliges, driving the full length of his shaft deep into you once more. Fingers digging into your hip bones, Mitch’s cock pulses while he empties himself inside of you, hot ropes of cum painting your inner walls as he fills you with his release. 

You collapse forward, leaning your head against his chest, and Mitch holds you tightly in his arms. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you remain nestled comfortably in his lap, in no rush to move anytime soon—not even when his cock begins to soften in your channel, dribbles of cum leaking out of your sensitive hole. 

—

Comments, reblogs, and/or asks are always appreciated!

» MITCH KELLER MASTERLIST

» GARRETT HEDLUND MASTERLIST

#answers from the cockpit #mitch keller x reader #mitch keller #mitch keller smut #garrett hedlund fanfiction #tulsa king #tulsa king fanfiction #mitch keller fanfiction #dee writes

[connorsjorts]

Yes, hello, I need to know everything about this rodeo clown hankcon au! O.O

DRACE thank you for your interest in Rodeo Clown AU! 

As with most of my ideas, it started out as a shitpost:

But my sweet lovely friend Miss got me thinking about bullrider!Connor and rodeoclown!Hank and, besides the obvious perk of getting to tag a fic ‘hank is a sexy rodeo clown,’

Young, talented (and closeted) bull rider Connor who is pressured to become a star to help his family out of financial difficulties captured my heart… who lives in a small, conservative town pursuing a high-risk  career embedded in conservative culture… who stands to lose everything if he admits who he is

Enter Hank, the brash, grumpy, out-and-proud rodeo clown, new to town and without any fucks about what anyone thinks of him

Y’all know I love an overly protective Hank, and rodeo clowns are basically there to protect the bull riders, so it’s sort of like a bodyguard au but with clown makeup

Right now there is no plot, just vibes and a collection of scenes. Obviously someone almost dies, there’s a lot of physical hurt/comfort potential with this one. Supportive friends Markus and Chloe (Markus as Connor’s best friend back from art school for the summer, thinks Connor needs to break free from this oppressive culture; Chloe as Connor’s high school sweetheart aka they have been each other’s beards for years). Drunken country bar dancing and inappropriate mechanical bull riding in front of Everyone. Connor losing his virginity, mid-day, in his squeaky twin bed while his mother and brother are in the house.

This will be a problematic huge age gap fic because I don’t think the themes really work unless Connor is in his early 20s so I am prepared to Get Yelled At

Also rodeo clowns don’t really wear clown clothes any more but FUCK THAT, Hank is CLOWNIN IT UP. I did not receive the comment “I can’t imagine having the self confidence to WRITE this, let alone post it” on mall santa just to not try to one-up myself

Now. The real question is will I ever write Clown College AU

#sorry this is a little late i've been trying (and failing) to finish my bb fic #also i'm sure this is way more than you ever wanted to know but you did say Everything #ask

[blazingstar29]

okay but have you seen bullfighters?? if youhavent look it up because I have an idea bestie

bullfighter!bradley x bullrider!jake

jake falling off and Bradley standing above him, keeping him safe from the bull

LINE DANCING

Those mechanical bull ride things

COUNTRY BOYSSSSSS

where i'm from we call them rodeo clowns LMAO it's honestly hilarious and this is so them.

not the mechanical bull HAHAHA bradley would try it but maybe he's more of a horse rider than a bronc/bull rider so he doesn't do as well and jakes like "oh how the turn tables have turned"

#also guys all chaps are assless #blazingstar29ask #jake hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #sereshaw

[luliyaa]

luliyaa found this hat & thought it would be a good idea to try mechanical bullriding in heels 🥴 made texas proud tho. 😂

#socials:ig

[wendytestabrat]

go back and rewatch the episode “cow days” it shows how much of a monster kyle was and how he was way worse than cartman back then LOL throughout the whole fucking episode kyle abuses cartman and keeps trying to put him in all of these life threatening situations just so he can win these dumbass terrance & phillip dolls. like he literally yells at cartman and forces him to ride a bull throughout the whole thing even tho he didn’t want to like that infamous scene where kyle threatens to break cartman’s skull open if he doesn’t get on a bull LMAOOOO like kyle literally gave 0 shits when cartman kept falling and hurting himself and then when cartman falls off of a mechanical bull he crashes into a fucking pinball machine and has to go to the hospital and then kyle still doesn’t care and the only thing he’s concerned about is getting cartman out of the hospital to enter him into the bullriding competition….you know the thing that nearly killed him before. even stan points out how crazy kyle was acting when he was like “god..he really wants those dolls” like literally the other boys stopped giving a fuck about trying to win the dolls and kyle was the only one taking this shit as far as he was. and people think cartman is the crazy abusive one LOL. like no wonder cartman carried so much resentment towards kyle and had to snap back at him later on. also the fact that kyle got so worked up and selfish over winning some stupid ass toy rlly shows how kyle is just as materialistic and spoiled as cartman at times LOL. i mean why do you think whenever cartman buys some new thing he always wants to rub it in kyle’s face? he knows kyle will get jealous af bc kyle wants nice shit too. like remember that time in the episode “die hippie die” when the town like forced kyle to watch cartman play with his new toy truck or whatever? like kyle was butthurt af bc he wanted one too and wanted to play with it. or like in the episode “humancentipad” when cartman just wanted to buy an ipad so he could show it off to kyle LMAOO he was like “i can’t wait to see the look on kahl’s face when he sees my ipad has more memory than his” not to mention how kyle was a total dick to kenny in the episode “chickenpox” and was telling his parents how he doesn’t want to go to kenny’s house bc it sucks and doesn’t have cable. ALSO i literally hate that moment in the episode “the scoots” when they kicked kenny out of their group from trick or treating bc he’s poor and doesn’t have a phone and then when cartman continued to shit on kenny for being poor kyle was like “stop it cartman” or some shit. LIKE BITCH….KYLE WAS BEING JUST AS MUCH AS A DICK AS CARMAN FOR KICKING KENNY OUT OF THE GROUP LOL like if he rlly cared about kenny he would’ve stood up for him or offered to trick or treat with him. kyle just likes to correct cartman bc it makes him feel better about himself LOL. i swear i can’t with this fuckturd.

#kyman #KYMANRANTGARBAGE

[carterjohnsons]

BIOGRAPHY | MUSINGS

BASICS.

character name: carter cameron johnson  

age & dob: june 21st, 1986 (36)

gender identity & pronouns: male, he/him/his

sexual orientation & relationship status: bisexual, single (divorced)

residential area: ocean crest apartments

occupation: mechanic at pitstop garage

length of time in aurora bay: two years

traits: hospitable, self pitying

faceclaim: boyd holbrook

FAMILY.

mother: carrie anne flynn-johnson

father: christopher cameron johnson

siblings: colton johnson, caleb johnson, chey johnson (32)

children: conrad christopher johnson (3)

BIOGRAPHY.

tw injury, pregnancy, hospitalization, substance abuse, infidelity, divorce

the first born of the quick to be formed johnson brood, carter took the role as eldest brother like an oath

not much of an age gap between any of his siblings, it wasn't so much that he felt responsible for them as he simply felt protective of the people he loved

which was perhaps a little ironic, considering he not only was just as reckless, but had set the bar for all their wild streaks to come

not the sharpest tool in the shed when it came to his education (one too many concussions, he'd tell you), but stuck high school out long enough to meet and somehow woo the young lady who'd go on to become his wife

the attention that should've been directed towards his studies were aimed elsewhere: bullriding

if you asked carter, there was nothing else like it in the world. the adrenaline was unmatched, and with his talent for it, he knew it was the only way he was going to be able to make something of himself

and he was more than good, becoming the youngest pbr world championship winner at just twenty two years old, after being named their rookie of the year.

he bought more than just a diamond ring with that money--a house, some land, made sure his family was taken care of

though for all the care he held for others, he seemed to hold very little in regards to himself

the injuries started adding up, over the years--concussions, torn ligaments, dislocations...easy enough to shake off, never keeping carter down for long, even as he began to grow older (and his body began to feel it)

around the time he and his wife were attempting to get pregnant was when she brought it up--not for the first time, but the most serious she'd been when suggesting that he retire while he still had use of all of his limbs

it would continue to be a point of contention between husband and wife, especially after she did become pregnant, with carter still refusing to give up his career while he was still "in his prime"

his family's worst fears came true just months later when a ride went wrong, carter being thrown from and nearly trampled underneath his bull. crush injuries to his chest, a broken spine, damage to his heart...it was a miracle that he lived

but living was not enough. despite having missed the birth of his son while lying in a hospital bed, carter was determined that at the end of his road to recovery was him getting back up on that saddle (metaphorically)

his wife, on the other hand, refused to put up with his delusions any longer: either he recovered and retired, or she'd leave. she couldn't stand to see the man she loves, the father of her child, kill himself

this put things in perspective for carter. or, at least, it should've. and maybe it did, for awhile. he slowly but surely got better, officially retired from riding, tried to focus on being a better husband, a good father...but there was something missing, a rush that nothing else could fulfill...but it sure hadn't stopped him from trying

the accident and his own addictive tendencies had already planted the seeds for his substance abuse issues to grow, and the dependency on alcohol to make it through most days only exacerbated that issue, fueling his decision to pull these stupid, reckless stunts in attempt to feel something, anything like he had before

and so when he drunkenly wrapped his car around a tree with a woman who was not his wife sitting in the passenger seat? it was her final straw. he could endanger his life and the lives of those who chose to be around him, but she'd be damned if she or their child got hurt because of him

the divorce was a blur, the custody battle too--maybe because there was no battle, no fight, not from carter. he agreed to her terms, gave her more than she was even asking for (something that'd baffled his lawyer)

like most of his decisions during this time, moving to aurora bay was a choice made on a whim, even (sort of) approved by his court ordered therapist, especially after hearing that his sister lived there. a change of scenery, but still a connection to home (a home that no longer felt like it, a home he was running from like a coward, but he couldn't outrun from all of his problems)

it's been two years since then, and carter currently resides in ocean crest, working as a mechanic after a childhood of restoring old cars with his dad. his vices are still going strong, a dangerous push and pull of giving him enough of a high to feel everything and also numbing him to high hell. it works some days better than others.

CURRENT CONNECTIONS.

oldest (favorite) brother of @cheyxjohnson

@xaviermattthews' mirror image

enemies except when smoking at 2 AM @pearlwestbrook

second best resident tall person for @benniesimpson

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

ex wife

neighbors

one night stands/flings/tinder hookups

drinking/smoking/party friends

customers/coworkers of the garage

someone trying to encourage this man to get his shit together @aurorabayaesthetic

#about #aurorabay.intro #tw injury #tw pregnancy #tw hospitalization #tw substance abuse #tw infidelity #tw divorce

[innytoes]

3 sentence prompt! Bullriding au reggie ship of your choice! (Saw that vid you RBed and couldn’t resist)

(Listen this video is inspired and we all deserve to see Reggie doing it. Special thanks to @anotherfantom who created this AU in their tags and then let me spitball about it for a few hours.)

Reggie's move to the Big City hadn't really been planned. The plan had been to stay in town and help Meemaw and Pops on the farm and save up for college. But well, after he and the Johnson boy were caught making out in the Johnson's hayloft, it had been strongly suggested to Meemaw that maybe Reggie get out of town.

(He'd heard later that Johnny Johnson had sworn up and down it had been a one-time, drunken mistake. He'd enrolled in the army the next day, disappearing almost as fast as Reggie had. He wasn't sure what stung more: the denial of all the sweet words whispered in the dead of night, or the fact that Johnny was throwing his life away in the exact way he'd admitted to Reggie he'd been afraid of. And for what?)

He'd been so lonely those first weeks. Getting a low-paying job (or several) hadn't been particularly hard. He made enough to rent out some nice old lady's attic. She thought his 'yes ma'ams' and country accent were charming. And every week, after her Sunday dinner with her family, Reggie would come home from his late shift at the gas station to find a bunch of leftovers in the fridge with his name on it.

He actually found the place through his second job as a delivery driver. When he drove onto the street with all the rainbow flags, it felt like something of a dream. He was already making plans to go back as soon as he had a night off, but then he stepped in the door.

It was like something out of Reggie's dreams: a country themed gay bar. Wood floors, wood paneling, a big wooden bar with leather-covered stools. And in the middle of the room, opposite of a beautiful dance floor, was a giant mechanical bull.

With an incredibly attractive man, well, riding it. Slowly, sensually, rocking his hips in time with the movements of the bull and the music. And all Reggie could do was stand and gape, clutching the package in his hands.

"Can I help you?" A voice from behind the bar called. "We don't actually open until six..."

"Oh!" Reggie flinched. "Um, package for a Caleb Covington?" He turned to the bartender, who was also unfairly handsome. He had kind eyes and he looked very... firm under that denim shirt, the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and oh god, he was glad the bar didn't have many lights on, so maybe his blush wouldn't be so obvious.

The handsome bartender smiled and nodded over to the bull. "That's that show-off over there. Caleb! Package for you!" The man dismounted the bull in a fluent and mind-searingly hot move, and sauntered over. He looked Reggie up and down, and Reggie really wished the delivery uniform wasn't a pair of dorky shorts and a polo.

"I'll sign for that," Caleb said, and was Reggie just imagining it, or did it sound like he didn't mean the package?

So of course, after that, the second he had a night off, he went back. And again. And again, until he was recognised as a regular by all the other regulars. And of course, by Caleb and Ray.

His normal Wednesday night off was a pretty chill time at the bar. Which suited Reggie just fine, because when things were slow, Caleb wouldn't just do his scheduled show, he'd sometimes get on the bull just to show off.

And of course Reggie had to master the bull as well. He was pretty good at the fast settings they had, where the goal was to stay on as long as possible. He was actually number four on the board now, and he'd won a sparkly cowboy hat for making it into the top ten. But the slow setting... well, he was getting there. And it had lead to a lot of free drinks.

Except there were really only two people he really hoped would notice him. And they did. There were a lot of lingering looks and even some touches. Ray always let him in early, let him practice on the bull without paying, watched him with intense eyes from behind the bar. Caleb gave him all kinds of pointers, showing him how to move his body. That time Caleb joined him on the bull, Reggie nearly creamed his pants, it was so hot.

But neither of them made a move, and Reggie wasn't about to go wreck their marriage or anything. Flirting was one thing, but actually trying to kiss one of them? Ask them out? What if they got offended and said no? This place was the closest thing he had to home, to a community. He couldn't mess that up.

He was sulking his way through his third free coca-cola of the night (Ray was always very kind about telling people Reggie didn't drink, refusing to serve him anything he wasn't comfortable with. Instead of cocktails, he got a lot of free cokes, or sometimes even some bar nachos), watching Caleb on the mechanical bull, when another regular dropped a bombshell.

"What do you mean, wreck their marriage?" Fuego asked him. "Ray and Caleb aren't married. They dated like ten years ago, decided they'd be better off as friends, and that was that."

"But they-"

"Sound exactly like an old married couple?" Dante, Fuego's husband finished for him. Reggie nodded. Even when they bickered, there was an undercurrent of affection that reminded Reggie of his Meemaw and Pops. "Yeah, they actually sound more like a couple now than they did when they were actually dating."

"Sooo," Reggie said slowly. "You think I have a shot?"

"Kid, the only reason either of them haven't ravished you behind the bar is because you always leave before closing," Dante said, laughing when Fuego smacked his shoulder.

Oh. He did usually leave around midnight because he had an early shift the next day.

Maybe tomorrow he could call in sick.

He knocked back the last of his coke like it was a shot, squared his shoulder, and sauntered back up to the bull, waiting for it to turn the right way to hop on, wrapping his legs over Caleb's to keep hold. The man looked surprised, yeah, but his hands immediately settled on Reggie's hips, leaning forward to keep his balance.

"Hi," Reggie said, cheekily stealing Caleb's cowboy hat and putting it on. The answering smirk was enough to nearly make him fall off the bull.

"Hello," Caleb said, tugging him closer.

Oh, he was definitely staying until after closing tonight.

#julie and the phantoms #fanfic #I wrote a thing #basically Ray and Caleb own the bar together and are in a QPR #and they agree to both date Reggie even though they're not dating each other #calebxreggie #rayxreggie #basically reggie starts dating Caleb and then Caleb realises he and Ray are still pining and is like: you know you and Ray would be great #and Reggie is all hurt like: are you breaking up with me??? #and Caleb is like: no but I won't say no to sharing. I'm not the jealous type #so Reggie gets two boyfriends and all is well in the world #For extra bonus points: reggie's fave song to ride the bull to is 'good lookin' by dixon dallas

[minty-plumbob]

Where did you get the bullriding?! =O please and thank you lol

mechanical bull by zulf 😊

#thank you! #wcif #ts4 #ask #ts4 cc

[semisolidmind]

(so here's that concept i was talking about)

Rusty's Roundup

A live-action cowboy show (similar to Dolly's Stampede) featuring lifelike "animatronic" animals acting out a Western drama on a grand stage. Guests enjoy a meal while they watch. There are smaller attractions within the building as well (mechanical bullriding, a bronco carousel, a non-alcoholic saloon, and a secondary stage where human country bands perform as opening acts to the main show, and a gift shop). The various staff dress like cowpokes, saloon barkeeps and showgirls, and the waitresses and waiters wear southwestern-patterned shirts and skirts and faux cowhide vests. Children are given their own cowboy hats and badges upon entry to match with Rusty.

Sheriff Rusty- a heroic farm dog and main character of the show. He protects the small town of "Tumbleweed Gulch" from bandits and rescues them from their own misadventures. He sings and plays guitar.

Deputy Dusty- an eager roadrunner and Rusty's right hand. His main running joke is that he can't slow down and usually runs into things. He's bright, peppy, and ready to tussle at a moment's notice.

Mama Mulberry- an old coyote grandmother. She often finds herself and her ward Huck in trouble with the bandits (usually a stolen pie or other such baked goods). Sings at the end of the show alongside the other animatronics.

Huck- a young coyote boy who often finds himself in trouble and is usually being saved by Rusty. Falls down a lot of wells and mineshafts. This doesn't seem to dull his spirit or his wish to be one of Rusty's deputies.

Jumpin' Jenny- a female mule, she's a side character in the show. She's usually just a reactionary character (jumping when she's scared being one of the running jokes), and she plays the fiddle at the end of the show.

Paso- a (jackrabbit? donkey? lizard? a combo of all 3??) bandit who regularly tries to steal from the town's goldmine and generally likes to cause havoc among the townsfolk. Main villain of the show, often seen in the town jail after his final standoff with Rusty at the end. Has a tendency to make trouble for the staff even before and after the show.

Betsy Belle (real name Mia Santos)- a human woman who plays the "damsel in distress" during the show, and is saved by Rusty before the end. She was originally just a waitress, but after an incident involving Paso, management decided she'd make a great addition to the cast. Paso has gained a habit of pestering (flirting with) her since then, and Mia is seemingly the only one who can keep him in line.

Noone getting stuffed inside robots here, but the animatronics were brought to life and given souls by the company owner through some shady rituals. Something about wanting them to be as lifelike as possible.

#rustys roundup #its like fnaf but with less ghosts and more hokey cowboy jokes #also a couple of yandere robots and the human girl theyve got mushy feelings for

[jjongleurs]

spn asks: 6, 13, 22

Thanks for the asks!!! <3

6. Which character should have never died (excluding TFW 2.0)?

CHARLIE. I will never forgive them for killing her off. She added a sort of brightness to the show that no other character did, and she was a great stand in for us fans for whenever the writers wanted to head the fandom route (as opposed to the girls in Fanfiction and Backy). She was also so, SO good for Dean. I feel like Dean could have made a lot of progress in coming to understand himself if he had Charlie. Plus, I simply adore her and think she should've been allowed to be a badass and happy and hunt and LARP and force everyone to play dnd at one point and become Cas' friend and maybe tease them about the Supernatural books.

13. Opinion on Adam and Michael (are they in love or just cage buddies:)?

Honestly???? I'm kinda on the fence about this, but I'm leaning on the "they fell in love and they're just happy existing with each other but neither of them has brought it up and they haven't talked about it yet" side. Like yes, they have feelings for each other, but have they figured out how they can allow themselves to be together and want that under the circumstances? I would've LOVED if canon had explored their relationship more.

22. What is on the jackles tapes (wrong answers only)?

jackles forgot his lines and blacked out for a moment and he started reciting a really long convoluted introduction for the world's best apple pie recipe that starts with a conversation he had with an apple farmer visiting LA from Washington during his struggling actor days making ends meet with mechanical bullriding.

ask me some spn questions, desticule

#i wish i was funny enough to come up with a good answer for 22 lmao #stillwinchester #inquiries #aria's inquiries #destiel #desticule asks #supernatural #spn

[choicesenthusiast]

Baby Bump, Ch. 10 AKA This is Healthy for the Baby, I Promise

What happened this week:

A girls night with your sister, your doctor, this one lady you helped one time, and some other lady who you’re trying to help after you almost died because her Easy Bake Oven exploded. Girls’ Night usually involves alcohol, dancing, and excessive movement. What could possibly go wrong?

People in this bar like to shout party anthems like at a 6th grade summer camp.

This pregnant idiot rides a mechanical bull, then drinks some shady juice. This can’t be good for the baby.

We get Easy Bake and her lover back together, rendering this whole Girls’ Night thing pretty pointless. Why didn’t we just let her rant for a bit, then she’d eventually blurt out that she’s not over dear old Karen yet. Boom. Problem resolved, and we can move on to whatever dumb event comes next.

That juice had alcohol in it and MC’s immediate reaction is to run away. From her doctor. Who was right beside her. To her baby daddy. I can’t.

His solution to vigorous bullriding and possible alcohol consumption is to sit on the couch for an hour and wait for his baby to kick his baby mama’s stomach like a soccer ball. We’re at 13 weeks, right? She shouldn’t feel any more than a flutter. We already know this but the writers did no fucking research on this book.

Thoughts:

I read this book so you don’t have to. You’re welcome.

#this week on choices #playchoices #choices stories you play #baby bump

[skinks]

maybe women are getting pegged... its equality

this definitely tracks. its_equality.gif

like that woman in the mechanical bullriding video for instance? definitely getting pegged, preferably by me

[dujourmeans]

boone mooney / twenty-two / ‘boarder / psychic.

face tba ‣ the product of a one night stand with his now married parents: forsyth “goose’ mooney, self-proclaimed “bi-legend”, and tanya kim, a former professional mechanical bullrider. ‣ works at his dad’s super shady but “fun!!!” theme park, goose’s world. ‣ has two older (but very close in age) half-siblings that grew up only spending weekends and holidays with goose while he was lucky enough to get the whole raising experience with him during the peak of his mom’s international “touring”. ‣ starting skateboarding after playing his first tiny hawk (aka tony hawk) game some in the early 2000s. ‣ is really good at it and was briefly sponsored by a local sporting label that helped him get into a few competitions aired on espn and shit before he flipped off someone on screen and got cut out of his contract … at sixteen. ‣ has at least three pet names for all of his closest friends, and sixteen to twenty for his current girlfriend, the babely nancy myers. ‣ has about sense as anyone who actively / willingly participated in stunts on jackass. ‣ has six pairs of kickass pepperoni pizza; they literally look the same and he wears them around all the time. but it’s never the same pair!!! guess which one it is on any given day though and he’ll be able to tell you by an impossible stain or some random wear and tear. ‣ uses “big” words ala bill and ted, but doesn’t always know what they mean. ‣ not not smart, but not … actually smart either. ‣ into that sexy classic rock or … you know, old adult contemporary. ‣ just a hyped nice guy looking to have a nice sexy time. 

   needs.

his half-brother!! who’s requested here!! another guy and two girls to join a hellion crew with him, asher and dominic!! (read more about it #here). someone that he used to date that now works at cvg or something that he always runs into and awkwardly tries to shoot the shit with. friends??? millions of them. also people that he can show his pet opossum, trash baby, off to.

rocky im / twenty-five / profesh hellion / dark.

face tba ‣ aka roxanne. ‣ three years into a job at mortem manor; juggles running the coffin experience with managing the “exit” gift shop. ‣ how she turned out is a classic result of a childhood spent being able to get away with almost anything she wanted to thanks to tired parents who were virtually done trying to be too strict after going through with the motions with their older kids. ‣ always going way harder than she probably would be, even when it comes to something as mundane as shuffling a deck of cards or helping her mom out with clipping out coupons. ‣ had to be talked down from spending half a years worth of savings to down south to make a play at beating the record time for someone lasting at mckamey manor. ‣ was sixteen when she convinced her parents to let her go skydiving for the first time - she’s gone five times since. ‣ wants to get her pilots license, but she’s an terrifyingly bad driver so the people in her life had kind of made a vow to distract her from ever being able to. ‣ was a background player for a short horror movie called slasher by the mononymous local legal director, seth, that revolved around a killer who slashed people’s asses ‣ (she’s proud of it too). ‣ isn’t the best at holding her liquor, but likes to think she is which is kind of an issue ‣ isn’t necessarily competitive … unless we’re talking about board games, bar trivia or mario kart - all bets are off with those three. ‣ likes wearing dungarees. ‣ very loud .. but if you’ve been around her you probably know that already. ‣ super charming which is probably why she’s kept her job for as long as she can (considering how often she accidentally breaks shit on location while trying to prove a point). ‣ makes a mean grilled cheese sandwich. ‣ equal parts lover and fighter; she is not afraid to fight you if she has to.

   needs.

the one friend left in her childhood friend crew!! (request can be found here!) two older and one younger sibling!! (req here)  other childhood friends?? more coworkers? people that she went to high school with? fellow adrenaline junkies (ie: people with questionable decision making skills)? a few past casual relationships?? like … really casual. because she’s too long term wrapped up in her bff to ever get legitimately serious with someone.

gideon kan / nineteen / university student / ice.

felix lee ‣ the more rebellious half of a set of fraternal twins … and there was def a point a few years ago where he wouldn’t let anyone forget that. ‣ comes from an incredibly catholic third generation korean american family. ‣ was homeschooled until he was nine, went to a private catholic school until he was thirteen, and spent the majority of his summers attending bible studies and bible themed summer camps. ‣ started attending public high school during his freshman year, which is when the chaos beginning (in the words of his parents). ‣ spent the majority of his high school days being a total brat to everyone in an attempt to push back from how he was raised; did virtually everything you’d expect a ~wannabe rebel~ to do from socially smoking to sneaking out in the middle of the night to go to trashy bog parties. ‣ kind of started to scale back from that sort of rebellion during his last year of high school in favor of general moodiness. ‣ currently finishing his first year at university of central florida, where he’s studying radio and television broadcasting. ‣ “aspires” to become a radio dj right out of graduation. ‣ currently co-hosts a late night radio show with two of his closest friends that juggles discussion of popular culture and ~giving advice with #good tunes. ‣ terrified his parents into tears when they listened to his first broadcast and he gave painfully descriptive advice about a threesome; they haven’t listened in since. he’s become even more of a lost cause to them since then. ‣ not as above it all as he tries to act like he is.

   needs.

his twin sister and older siblings!! (click here) two best friends who’re also the co-hosts on his radio show??? people that he grew up with?? friends from high school???? probably some sort of ex from high school that he had a very brief relationship with?? someone that he had a mild friends-with-benefits thing going with at the start of the school year that kinda just … stopped out of nowhere?? or they decided they were better as friends, whichever.

#ntmyrp