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its3nvy · 6 months

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"Wear the hat, ride the cowboy" Billy the Kid

Summary: After drawing the wrong kind of attention at the saloon, Billy comes to your rescue. Having to pretend to be his for the night, which leads to a ‘wear the hat, ride the cowboy’ situation ;)

Tags/warnings: mdni (18+), porn with no plot, angst, size kink, riding cock, overstimulation, fingering, breeding kink, creampie, unprotected sex, rough sex, dirty talk, slight knife kink

Note : This is my first time ever writing smut and I haven't edited it a lot so this should be fun. (Tell me if it's good or not pls)

tags: f!reader, smut

word count: 3.7k

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Curiosity led you to the local saloon one evening, where Billy often engaged in poker games. The air inside was thick with the smoky residue of cigars, and the occasional clinking of glasses underscored the distant melody of a forlorn piano. As you pushed through the creaking doors, your presence hung in the air, drawing the gaze of rough patrons whose eyes bore into you with a kind of familiarity you had never known. Unaccustomed to the bold gazes and suggestive comments that swirled around you like a threatening storm, you sought refuge at the bar. A man behind it was taking someone’s order.

You looked around, your eyes finally found Billy's familiar frame, surrounded by a haze of cigarette smoke, engaged in a high-stakes poker game.

“Hello, darlin’,” a drunken man stumbled toward you.

“Hello, sir,” you gave him a small smile, trying to avoid his intense stare.

He leaned against the bar to keep his balance. “Come on, darling, don’t be such a prude. Talk to me.” His hand reached up, attempting to caress your face.

From afar, you saw Billy, his eyes—usually mischievous and full of life—met yours with a fleeting recognition. Without uttering a word, he rose from his chair, his cowboy boots echoing a heavy cadence on the worn wooden floor.

The drunken man's intrusive advances persisted, his slurred words creating an uncomfortable tension. "Don’t play hard to get, honey. I can show you a good time," he insisted, his hand becoming more insistent. Ignoring the drunkard, you turned back to the bar, hoping for intervention. The man persisted, his persistence turning aggressive. As his hand encroached upon your personal space, a shadow fell over you.

Billy's presence loomed, his gaze colder than the steel of his revolver. Without a word, he grabbed the man's hand, his grip firm and unyielding. “Leave her alone," Billy's voice cut through the clamor of the saloon, his words echoing with a subtle menace.

The tension escalated, a palpable undercurrent surging through the room. The patrons, sensing the imminent storm, shifted uneasily. Billy's eyes held yours, a silent reassurance amid the brewing chaos. The drunk man, now confronted by the notorious gunslinger, stumbled backward, a mixture of recognition and fear contorting his expression. With a final warning glare from Billy, he slinked away into the crowd.

Billy turned towards you, his eyes softening as if to assure you that the storm had passed.

"What in the hell are ya doin’ here?", he murmured, his tone both gruff and concerned as he reached you, seizing your hand and guiding you to the quiet side of the room. "I needed to go out, Billy," you replied, your voice carrying a note of defiance and desperation.

He hissed, a trace of irritation etching lines across his rugged features. "You can’t. You gotta go home. These people here are dangerous," he warned.

"And you don’t think me leaving alone would be dangerous?" you shot back, your gaze a defiant challenge to the protective facade he wore like impenetrable armor.

"Shit," he conceded, his irritation mingling with a begrudging acceptance of your undeniable truth. "Alright, I’m finishing up my round, and then we can go," Billy relented, his tone an admission of defeat. "But you play along with me, ok? If they don’t think you're claimed, they'll see you as fair game," he said, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that cut through the smoky haze, demanding an unspoken oath.

“Ok,” you huffed out.

He pulled you towards his table with a rough yet oddly comforting grip, a silent acknowledgment that, for a fleeting moment, you were to be sheltered from the men surrounding you as long as you stayed with him. "Wait," he murmured, his hand lingering on yours. With a swift motion, he removed his hat, worn and weathered from a life on the precipice.

You extended your hand to stop him. "Billy, you can’t," you insisted, your voice barely more than a whisper, laden with the implications of his gesture. “You know what this means.”

"That’s the point," he declared, his crooked grin returning like a bittersweet promise of protection. As he placed his hat on your head, it became a proclamation, an unspoken claim made before the watchful eyes of everyone present, and a promise of a heated night that lingered in the air like an unspoken secret.

"Now, c’mere," he commanded, pulling you towards him as he settled into his chair, drawing you onto his lap. You bit on your lips, a mixture of anticipation and fear, the heat rising to your cheeks as the proximity between you tightened like a coiled spring. This was the first time Billy had been so close, and the magnetic pull of his presence ignited an unfamiliar fire within you.

He looked up at you as you bit your lips, his gaze a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken tension that hung thick in the air.

As he resumed his poker game, you felt his breath against your neck. "Pass me the whiskey, doll," he asked.

You leaned against the table, inadvertently pulling your hips tighter into his pelvis, sensing his hardness between you. His hands reached out against your hips, gripping you and keeping you still. "Careful," he warned against the shell of your ear, his breath raising goosebumps along your neck, a sensation that heightened the electrifying energy between you.

As you handed him the glass, he took a swig, and then, with a deliberate slowness, leaned down against the side of your neck, planting a lingering kiss. "Thank you, doll," his gravelly voice murmured, the aroma of whiskey lingering in the air.

Billy's fingers grazed lightly along your waist, sending a cascade of sensations through your body. His gaze met yours once more, a silent invitation lingering in his eyes. It was then that you became acutely aware of the speculative glances from the patrons, their curiosity fueled by the undeniable connection unfolding before them.

The weight of Billy's hat on your head felt like both a shield and a beacon, marking you as his amidst the prying eyes of the saloon.

The night passed on and as the final hand of poker concluded, Billy rose from his seat, still holding you close. "Wrapping it up for the night, boys. See ya tomorrow," he declared, his voice a mix of weariness and determination.

He grabbed your hand, guiding you out with a certain urgency. The saloon doors swung open, thrusting you back into the harsh glow of moonlight. As you stopped in front of his horse, he turned around and said, "What the hell were you thinking, coming here alone? You know how they treat women here."

His words cut through the night air, a mixture of concern and frustration etched on his rugged features. The distant sounds of revelry from the saloon formed a dissonant backdrop to the charged atmosphere between you.

You met his gaze, a swirl of emotions reflecting in his eyes. "I just wanted to have one free night, Billy. Just one," you replied, your voice carrying a note of desperation. Billy's jaw clenched, a silent acknowledgment of the dangers lurking in the shadows. "This ain't the place for that, especially not for someone like you," he muttered, his grip on your hand tightening as if to emphasize the point.

The weight of his words hung in the air, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The moonlight cast shadows across his face, revealing the hardened resolve etched into his expression. "I can't have you wandering into places like this, doll," he continued, a trace of vulnerability underlying his gruff tone. "It's too damn dangerous."

Billy sighed, a heavy exhale that seemed to release the tension in the air. "Let's get you home," he said, his voice softened. With a final glance back at the saloon, you moved towards his horse. As you approached, he placed his hands on your hips, lifting you onto the horse with a gentle yet firm touch. You instinctively grabbed his forearm for support, your eyes locking in a shared moment of intimacy.

The ride home was a silent journey through the cool night air, the rhythmic hooves of the horse creating a steady cadence. You sat in front of Billy, the warmth of his body enveloping you, his strong arms encircling your waist as you traversed the dimly lit trails.

As the horse navigated the uneven terrain, Billy's embrace tightened slightly, offering both stability and reassurance. His chin rested on your shoulder, his warm breath tickling your neck, and in that intimate proximity, the weight of your unspoken desires lingered like an invisible thread weaving through the darkness.

Arriving at your doorstep, Billy helped you dismount, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. Your eyes met, a complex tapestry of emotions woven between you. He spoke, his words a whisper carried away by the night breeze, "Be more careful, doll. This world ain't kind, especially to those with a heart as tender as yours." He placed his hand against your cheek, caressing it lovingly.

"Billy," you responded, the ache in your voice carrying a mixture of gratitude and longing. He placed a loving kiss on your forehead, his touch a hushed plea for silence. "Go to sleep, doll. I'll come by tomorrow morning," he whispered, giving you a kiss on the forehead, turning away.

"Billy, wait," an urgency surged within you, desperate to find a reason for him to stay. You took off your hat, intending to return it to him, a feeble attempt to anchor him in the moment. “Keep it. I prefer it on you,” he remarked, a bittersweet acknowledgment that stirred emotions too complex to unravel.

Locked in a gaze that spoke volumes, you inched toward him, a silent plea lingering in the air. As your fingers tightened around the hat, a palpable tension filled the space between you. His intense blue eyes held yours, revealing a tumult of unspoken struggles and desires. Your gaze shifted to his lips—slightly chapped yet irresistibly inviting.

Closing the distance, you reached him, and, without hesitation, pressed your lips against his. The kiss was a desperate plea, an attempt to convey the emotions that words couldn't capture.

Billy's initial surprise melted into a shared passion, and for a moment, the world around you faded. His arms encircled you, pulling you close as if trying to etch the moment into his memory. As the intensity deepened, you let go of the hat, your hands finding their way to his jaw, pulling him even closer. He tasted your soft lips and felt your warm skin. He pulled away slightly, breath mingling with yours, lips lingering, an anguished pause in the silent night.

"Fuck, doll," he groaned, your foreheads leaning against one another, his hands gripping the fabric on your waist. You looked up into his eyes, witnessing the inner battle reflected in his gaze as he grappled with the decision to restrain himself or not.

You approached your lips to his cheek, giving him a slight peck, when you heard him whisper, "Fuck it." His lips crashed to yours, hungry, hot, and demanding, stealing your breath in a heated rush. His hand came up, cupping your jaw, angling your head to deepen the kiss as he slicked his tongue inside your mouth.

“Come, let’s go inside, yeah?” He asked. You nodded at him, as he gave you a quick kiss, ushering you inside, “good girl.” And in an instant, he’s moving toward you, wrapping his arms around your body and pressing you to his chest. You press your lips to his and moan at the taste of Whiskey. His tongue slides over yours in slow strokes that make your cheeks warm, but it’s when his teeth nip at your bottom lip that a whine escapes.

His rough, calloused hands drop to the cusp of your neck, gripping your hair just tight enough to make you hiss. You arch into his touch as he starts to explore your body, mapping out every dip and curve.

“Billy- Please… do something.” He moans a response into your neck as his lips slip down to leave love bites along the column of your throat.

Eager to feel you, Billy tried to pull at the strings of your corset, but to no avail. It was too complicated to remove in the dark, and with the emotions aptly blinding him, Billy had no patience to try.

In the dark, you heard a flick of a knife, and you felt a cold tip of the blade against your skin before Billy’s voice comforted you, “Be a good girl and don’t move, ok?”

A rip ran through the air as Billy sliced your corset in half from the back. You stayed perfectly still, trusting him completely to cut the clothing off of you without harming you at all. The moment Billy had cut your corset, he dropped it to the floor and pulled your top off with it.

He immediately lets his hands drop to your breasts, nipples already pebbling from the cool air. He pinches and pulls at them for only a moment before he’s trailing kisses down your stomach.

Bilily stops just above your hip bones, “May I?” he asks, blue eyes peering up at you. “Yes. Billy, please.” You beg him, voice thick with desperation. He chuckles and then rubs his hand over your throbbing clit. He slides one, then two thick fingers into your dripping pussy. A whimper bubbles from your swollen lips as he pulls back to spit on your heat. His fingers curl, digits stretching and scissoring inside you. Your head feels like it’s spinning, arousal leaking from your cunt and down Billy’s fingers.

Your hips are unable to escape his assault on your g-spot when he pins you down, and you let out a moan you hardly recognize as your own. “Shit, you’re so wet.” His teeth catch his bottom lip as he smiles down at your fucked-out form.

Billy’s hand never slows, even as he grinds his palm into your poor clit. You cum not long after, waves of pleasure crashing over and drowning you in euphoria. Your body is trembling as you come back to Earth and Billy is there, watching you from between your thighs. He places a kiss on your sensitive clit before he stands back up, towering over you.

“Please. Fuck me, Billy.” You say through heavy breaths. He feels his head spin at the sound of your voice.

“Whatever you want, doll.”

Billy lays you across the couch and crawls over you, leaning back to release his aching cock from the confines of his pants. Saliva pools in your mouth at the sight of him, pre-cum drips from his flushed, red tip.

He fists his cock at the sight of you below him, lips parted and breasts heaving. Billy leans his body over yours, trapping you between him and the cushions below you. You can feel the muscle covering his torso press against your tummy. He ruts his cock through your pussy, the head catching on your clit deliciously. You both moan at the feeling and link your fingers together.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect. I’m gonna make you all mine”, Billy coos down at you, searching your face for any hesitance. You nod at him, earning you a keen smile and a quick kiss. “It’s gonna hurt, doll, I’m sorry.” Squeezing his hand, you hold your breath when he lines himself up with your entrance.

You gasp when his tip slips into you, already feeling like he’s split you in two. Salty tears start to well in your lash line at the burn of Billy’s cock stretching you out for the first time. He’s much bigger than you anticipated and you dig your nails into his skin.

“I know, I know. Just breathe.” He tries his best to comfort you, gritting his teeth at the feeling of your cunt around him. His heart stings at the sight of you crying for reasons other than pleasure, but he can’t help it when his hips buck, pushing himself another inch deeper.

Billy knows he should feel guilty for liking the way you screw your eyes shut, the way your cunt flutters around him even though he’d worked you open already. He’s not even halfway inside you and your legs are trembling around his waist while he holds himself back from pushing in balls-deep. He can’t help but feel a sense of pride swell in his chest at the effect he has on your body.

Billy’s hand leaves yours and drops to your clit, rubbing tight circles with his thumb. Your mouth opens into an “O” shape and your sloppy cunt grants him another inch. He can feel the velvet of your walls drawing him deeper, euphoria building in your veins. With every circle drawn, Billy pushes in further and further until he’s finally buried to the hilt. He stills for a moment, letting your cock-drunk mind play catchup with your body. “I’m gonna move, is that ok, doll?”

He pulls out, making you whine at the empty sensation, then, he’s driving his hips forward again. You loop your arms around his neck as he attacks your insides. Any words you have die on your tongue as Billy sets a rough, passionate pace. His tan skin, covered in old and new scars, feels slick against yours as his cock splits your mind in half. You can feel Billy everywhere, you can taste him, touch him, smell him, see him. He’s completely overwhelmed your senses and given you nothing to think about other than him.

The air around you is humid and thick, the scent of sex swimming through it. Billy slips in and out of you with ease, the clear strings of your slick and his pre-cum coat your pussy lips like a gloss. You let your gaze fall on him, watching how his brows furrow with concentration while he molds your insides into the shape of him.

Billy lifts your hips in the air to get an angle that allows him to hit even deeper, pumping his cock into you so hard that the air is forced from your lungs. There’s no one else you could want, no one else who could ever make you feel like this.

“Shit Billy. I’m so close.” You moan, a familiar warmth starting to coil in your tummy. He nods and slots his lips against yours for one final kiss. His tongue explores your mouth as his dick strikes your g-spot, sending you headfirst into bliss. You cum hard as every nerve in your body is set aflame. His hot, sticky cum floods your walls and leaks from around his cock.

Silence lies thick in the air aside from your heavy breathing and the soft kisses you share. Billy leans back to peer down at where you’re connected and shakes his head at you.

He picks you up and places you over his hips, leaning you back. “Can’t waste this, doll.” He tuts at you, gathering the cum leaking from your abused pussy on his tip and pushing it back in. Throwing an arm behind his head, a fucked-out grin crosses his features as you sink down on his cock, letting him rub against your most sensitive spots. A strangled moan sounds in the back of your throat as he slowly pushes back into the deepest parts of your cunt.

His tongue darts out to lick the sweat off of his cupid’s bow, large hands moving to slide down your hips to grab at the fat of your ass. He guides you up and down on him as you babble and cry.

“I’ve got you, doll.” His words send a shiver down your spine and you brace yourself on his broad shoulders. Your cunt flutters around him, “Fuck Billy’-” you cry out.

Billy groans at the sight of a white ring around his shaft, made from a mixture of his and your cum. “So tight… taking me so fuckin’ well.” He bucks his hips, tip grazing your g-spot just right, just enough to make your eyes roll up into your head. “C’mon, doll.”

He leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead, then captures your lips with his. He swallows every moan and hiccup as he pounds into you, only slowing when you clench impossibly tighter around him. Stars are dancing in your vision and pleasure is burning in your veins. You hear him swear again, he lets his head fall back onto the cushions and plants his boots flat on the floor. You nearly scream as he fucks back up into you. He’s growling something in your ear, but his words sound so far away.

“Cum on my cock, doll. C’mon, do it. Do it for me.” Billy babbles in your ear as he loses his rhythm, now just slamming his hips into yours with all the force he could muster. Your arms are clinging to his neck and he has you trapped against him. White, hot pleasure hits you like a ton of bricks as you squirm on Billy’s lap. His teeth sink into your shoulder as he pumps his hot, sticky cum into your womb.

He lays back on the couch, letting you rest against his chest. With a tender touch, he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss on the top of your hair. His lips lingered for a moment. As he pulled back, his fingers began to stroke your hair slowly, each caress a testament to the unspoken passion that simmered between you.

“From now on, that hat stays on you, doll. Let everyone in town see you belong to me."

send me billy thoughts or requests pleaseee :)

#billy the kid #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid smut #william bonney #coriolanus snow #tom blyth #wear the hat ride the cowboy #save a horse ride a cowboy

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cloverfarm · 1 month

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— read you like a book

sdv!harvey x f!reader

rated e - 5k

Tags: gentledom/service!dom harvey, mutual pining/ yearning, mention of alcohol, flirting, kissing, begging, teasing, body worship, oral sex, vaginal fingering, implied squirting, multiple orgasms

A/N: had the thought that Harvey would know just how to take care of you, and wanted to explore that idea (and still deep in my Harvey-is-a-dirty-talker era)

“You want to know what I was really thinking about?” Harvey rasps, the tips of his fingers skating against your waist, slipping down to tease against the elastic band.

“I was thinking-,” A finger slips beneath the band, testing the elastic. Inching it away from your skin, but not making to remove them, “A girl like you should be taken care of.”

His voice drops, “And that I wanted to be the one to do it.”

(Or - Harvey overhears about your past lackluster experiences, and can’t help wanting to lend a hand)

There’s the clack of pool balls colliding in your corner of the Stardrop Saloon. The jaunty piano music muted, your fingers wrapping around a sweat-dewed glass.

A late-night Friday evening, the conversation already turning debauched as your off-handed remark of feeling frustrated was quickly misinterpreted and took another turn. Spiraling away from you, with their overlapping ideas.

Your nose crinkling with a suggestion to use the community board, one that has them bent-over with laughter - you could only imagine the shock at seeing such a message.

Help Wanted: Farmer looking to get ploughed. Used to getting a little dirty. If interested, please call…

“Could use an app. Been a while, but I used to do that.” Shane’s wiggles his phone at you, keying in the website for FerngillFlings. Flashing the front page at you, all while you try to ignore the clench of jealousy that flares to life in your stomach.

Sam leans over you, squinting at the screen, “You can’t tell me that works. Your matches come all the way out here?”

“Sure do.” Shane’s shoulder lifts in a shrug, from where his arm rests on the couch behind you. “Haven’t heard any complaints.”

The double-innuendo isn’t missed, your tongue poking into your cheek as your head shakes in exasperation.

“Haven’t heard, or haven’t listened?” Abigail shoots back with a smirk, and he rolls his eyes at her in response.

“Any matches from here?” You can’t help but ask, glancing sideways at him in curiosity.

He slumps a little further in his seat, knee knocking against yours, “Wouldn’t you like to know, farm girl?”

Thick fingers curl around the can before it lifts it to his lips, hiding his own smirk as you stiffen beside him.

Shane infuriated you. Always teasing, never answering a question directly. Deflecting a sly comment with a dry one of his own, until you weren’t sure where you stood with him.

You’d given up a while ago.

Your heart now quite taken with another.

“I think we’d all like to know.” Abigail chimes in, and you send a grin her way.

“I thought we were still talking about Miss Grange Queen?”

Your look turns apologetic - you know Pierre has been prepping all week as well - but she brushes it off, “I don’t care. Honestly, I hope you win this year. But he is right…”

A chipped polished nail taps her lip, before she fixes you with a look of concern, “When was the last time you got laid?”

The gulping swallow of your drink goes down wrong, making you splutter. A solid hand thumps you on the back, as your palm swipes across your mouth.

“What?” You manage, through watery eyes.

“Okay, we definitely gotta know.” The hand still rests against you, pinned against the plush cushion of the couch. Fingers tapping expectantly between your shoulders.

Yoba almighty.

You know they won’t back down. Even Sam lingers, eyebrows raised as his hip rests against the edge of the pool table.

“It’s been… a while.” You hedge, glancing around the room before you can answer. Voice lowering - not worried about the bar, it’s too far away.

More concerned about the booth that sits just across the room. Occupied when you arrived - your gaze flicking to Elliot often as he had sat alone, waiting.

Knowing who would be coming - a little flip in your stomach with Harvey arrived late, red-cheeked from the run, the novel pinched between his fingers.

You thought it was cute. Their little weekly book club. On another night you would have hoped to eavesdrop - figure out what the choice was for this month.

“You talking weeks? Months?” Sam asks, ignoring the glare from Sebastian, the hip check that follows - indicating his turn.

“Pre-farm,” Your head shakes, “Two years, maybe?”

“Years?” Abigail screeches, as your eyes widen - a hand coming to press unconsciously against a burning cheek.

Unable to help the sidelong look at the table across the way. The heat in your cheek rising to your ears when your eyes meet hazel ones, before you’re dropping your gaze.

“It’s not worth it,” You try to rein them in, all but pleading, “It’s not like it’s all that satisfying either, you know?”

“You mean you don’t…?” Abigail suggests - looking at you dubiously, and even Sebastian is turning to give you a pitying look.

“I mean… sometimes, I guess?” Your shoulder lifts, and then drops, “It’s not a big deal.”

You could get there yourself just fine. Have certainly managed, with your current dry spell. Before, you sometimes would afterwards - alone - easing the unresolved pleasure that licks in your belly.

But you’re sure it wasn’t the same as having someone there with you. Having their focus so solely on you.

It’s not something you’re about to explain. This has gotten too deep. You’re used to the tales of Shane’s old one night stands. The occasional complexities that come from Sam and Abigail both dating the same person, but these talks rarely focus on you.

“What kind of guys are you fucking?” Shane asks bluntly, making you gasp.

“Normal guys.” You hiss, “Besides, it’s probably just me.”

Taking a sip of your drink then to deflect, the sharp flavor making you cough.

“You don’t starfish, do you?” Sam pipes up, helpfully.

It has you almost choking again.

Shane smirks, “Maybe it is you, Farm Girl. Should have someone here take a look-”

You miss the end of his comment with the sudden, loud scrape of wood. Heads turning to where Harvey half-stands, his chair pushed back. Staring your way, with lips parted and brow furrowed.

“You got something to say, Doc?” Shane scoffs, his voice a little too loud.

Harvey blinks, and reddens. Coming back to himself, a sharp click of teeth as they close - swiping his half-full glass from the table.

Mumbling something about needing a refill - before his head is dipping, and he makes towards the bar.

Your eyes follow him, before your hand is scrubbing over your face - the heels pressing into your eye sockets. And finally, mercifully, the subject is changed, a collective groan as Sam accidently knocks two stripes in the corner pockets.

But even as the evening fades - you can’t quite shake Harvey’s expression from your mind.

The air is cool, hinting at the coming frost. Your jacket shrugged on as you step outside, before plunking down on the cobblestone path outside of the Stardrop.

It’s dark, late. The scattered streetlights outside offering pockets of the town, the rest cast in hazy shadow.

There’s a flare of light to your side. Sebastian sneaking out for his smoke break, now that Robyn and Demetrius have called it a night. You sometimes go with him, keeping silent company.

Content to let your legs dangle, to listen to the croak and groan of the frogs near the river. To let your mind wander.

Tonight though, it’s still so singularly focused.

You don’t feel embarrassed about what you said, only that he overheard it. Harvey had so much of his life together - surely a man who was there to discuss books and drink wine would not want to spent his evening listening to the lewd gossip of folks younger than him.

What if he took your words to heart, and thought you were not interested? What if he thought you weren’t good? A sigh to yourself then, as you pull yourself together with a reminder. Not that he thinks anything of you.

But… you admit that you had hoped.

It’s only now that you hear voices just down the path, two friends bidding goodbye. That shade of green you’ve come to associate with Harvey has your ears pricking up - catching where they linger, near the park benches.

Bravery steeling itself, in your belly.

“I’m gonna head out,” You hear yourself saying, as you push to your feet, “I’ll catch up with you guys tomorrow.”

“You sure?” Sebastian asks, with a smoky exhale.

“Yeah.” It’s distracted. Giving him a wave, just as you skirt around the door that opens behind you.

Missing the pair of eyes that follow you as you leave.

Too far out of earshot to hear the murmured words, as he exhales another held drag from his cigarette, “You’re missing your chance, man.”

And then the answer, growled out as Shane’s hands shove deep into the pockets of his well-worn jacket.

“Never had one.”

“Harvey!” You call out, as he splits from his companion.

Missing how Elliot settles amongst the trio of benches, his book cracking open to finish the chapter under the streetlight.

Harvey lingers, in the middle of the cobblestone path. His expression almost wary, your explanation coming in a rush.

“I am sorry if we made you uncomfortable.” Your hands clasp together, fingers twisting, “We should’ve been more considerate. You and Elliot were there first.”

His expression clears at that, a slight mark between his eyebrows. He’s tall, you’re realizing. Not that you didn’t know, not that you haven’t stood next to him on occasion.

But your heart had never quite pounded like this, never so acutely aware of your proximity - too used to the barrier of the counter in his office.

“No, uh, not at all. I wasn’t uncomfortable.” Harvey clarifies, his voice soft, “I certainly didnt mean to try to interrupt. I’m afraid that was rude of me.”

His answer sends your mind careening into overdrive. Not quite taking his half-hearted excuse earlier, but too wrapped up in your embarrassment to truly process it.

That has you thinking - realizing that he had some sort of intention. Your heartbeat kicking up a notch, unable to help but wonder.

“Can I ask you something?” Your eyes search his, voice quiet in the night, “You don’t have to answer.”

The slight curve of his lips fall, an almost uneasy look passing his features - though he does not deny you, “If you’d like.”

“What were you going to say?” You ask him “Back in the bar. You can tell me, I won’t tell anyone.”

Your words hang, for a moment. And then silence, enveloped by the soft sounds of the night.

“Oh.” He hedges, a hand rubbing at the back of his neck, “It’s, ah… it’s just a shame.”

Your eyebrows lift, worry flooding through you as you wonder what he means.

“That you haven’t had a more… positive experience.” He finishes lamely.

The worry transforms, turning into a heated curiosity.

“Why would it be a shame?”

The shade of pink deepens across his cheeks, hidden in the shadows. A finger unconsciously hooking around his collar and tugging.

“Because there’s no reason satisfaction can’t be mutually inclusive,” He manages, “From uh, the point of view of a medical professional.”

Your lips press together to hide your laugh, charmed by his careful answer, “How I wish that were true.”

And that had him fixing on you, catching you in the brunt of his gaze, “It could be. Maybe you just haven’t met the right person yet.”

It makes your breath catch. That hope flaring to life again. Reading into his meaning, daring yourself to ask, “Is that right? You know anyone around here?”

Only to watch the way his face goes carefully blank - his words slow, “I’m sure… I’m sure you don’t need my help to find out.”

It’s hard not to feel disappointed. Hoping that there was an offer, woven into his words. The bit you had clung to leaves you, with the next exhale of your breath.

“I’m sure you’re right.” Your smile is small. Deflecting with a joke, because it’s all you know, “I don’t starfish, by the way. If you heard that part.”

He huffs a laugh, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

“I didn’t think you did.”

The look he gives you is at odds with his hesitance in answering. A soft, amused smile that makes your heart flip.

Yoba, you have it bad.

“Goodnight, Harvey.” You smile back - intent on ending the night before you make it worse, “And, thank you.”

His answer echos yours, his feet firmly rooted as you disappear into the night. Silence lingering under the soft glow of the street lamp, as his mind races.

“If you were looking for an invitation, old friend,” An amused voice comes from the benches - where Elliot still sits, his book long forgotten.

“That was it.”

The television blares as you stretch out on the couch - intent on unwinding a bit further, after a long day. Immediately stripping down to your loungewear as soon as you stepped in the door, cracking a window to let in the autumn air.

Your head rests on a pillow, an old quilt pulled haphazardly around your hips as you watch a rerun of The Queen of Sauce - something that fortunately required little attention.

Because your mind is occupied elsewhere, thinking back to the square with both chagrin and disappointment. Hoping that maybe Harvey had drank more wine than you thought - that maybe he wouldn’t remember how you all but threw yourself at him.

Gentleman that he is, he probably just wouldn’t bring it up in the first place. You don’t know if that’s more preferable, or less - perhaps you owe him yet another apology.

A timid knock at the door draws your attention, your feet silent as you slip from the couch. You really should move it - giving yourself a view of the small, narrow porch. Maybe installing another light outside.

But this was Pelican Town, you remind yourself - you’re not in the big city anymore. It was probably Abigail, not wanting to head home yet.

For now, you move to the door, pausing to shrug on the worn, plaid barn coat that hangs by the door, buttoning it in an last-minute attempt at modesty.

Your hand on the frame of the door as you crack the front door open, close enough to grab the old wooden bat you have tucked next to the rickety side table.

Eyes going wide when you realize who it is.

Harvey. His face half-turned away, looking like he’s second-guessing himself from your delay - half-way ready to book it down the steps that lead to the packed dirt road.

“Hi again,” You nudge the door open wider, leaning against the frame.

He turns back, surprise crossing his features again when he sees you. Eyes dipping down, snagging - slowly dragging back up over the bare skin of your legs, the low dip of the collar, as if he has forgotten himself for a moment.

“Hi.” He answers belatedly, blinking as he comes back into the present.

You wait a beat for him to explain, for any sort of sign as to why he’s here. Wondering why he travelled all the way in near-darkness, you knew more than anyone what a trek it could be.

And he must realize, because he blinks again, worry pulling down the edges of his brows, a small crease appearing in the middle.

“I-, well, Elliot-,” Harvey begins, throwing a thumb over his shoulder into the darkness, his other hand still clutching the book from the Saloon. Starting over when he realizes he’s making zero sense, “Back, in the square.”

His lips pressing together for a moment, an inhale of breath before the words rush out, “Am I misreading this?”

An emphasis on ‘this’, a small gesture with his fingers between the two of you. It makes you smile, relief flooding through you - enough to where you’re reaching out, tapping a fingernail against the solid cover of the book.

“I think you’re reading this just fine.” Your head tilts up to look him in the eye, seeing the relief on his own features as well, “Would you like to come in?”

“Yes,” He breathes, and you’re stepping aside with a smile - taking his book from him to rest on the little side table.

Hanging his moss-green jacket on your one good hanger by the door, showing him where to put his shoes.

Steps that make the floorboards creak because he doesn’t know which ones to avoid - not yet - as he lets you guide him to the couch. Carefully sitting on the middle cushion, the sharp, white starch of his dress shirt standing out against the worn, rust-orange fabric.

Your own feet following until you’re standing in from of him. Not quite believing, as your face tilts down to meet the upturned angle of his own.

Harvey was here.

The man who got more than a little bossy with you when you came in to the clinic with a bad scrape, or a cold. Who always has a smile, who listened intently when you keep him up to date about the new crops you’re growing, even though he knows nothing about farming.

Who you never had let yourself daydream about too often, because he had always kept you at arms length. You had always thought it was part of his profession, or that perhaps he just didn’t see you like that.

Like he’s looking at you now - like you’ve hung the stars.

You really want to kiss him.

You hope he’ll let you.

Slowly, like when you’re approaching a new calf, you move toward him. The slight, automatic spread of his knees as you step between them, before your own knees are bending.

Hands resting on the wooden frame of couch as you lower yourself - until you’re straddling his thighs, bare knees pressing into the worn cushions on either side.

“This okay?” You ask, close enough to smell a hint of his aftershave, the solid weight of him beneath you.

Hands that slide from their place at his side, up the curve of your calves, until they’re resting on the bare expanse of your thighs.

“Yes.” The word comes out low, fingers pressing against your skin as your own drop to the thick buttons of your coat, slowly working each one open.

Until you’re shrugging the fabric off to pool on the wooden floor - all bare arms and legs beneath in your too-large t-shirt, a pair of cotton underwear.

About to apologize for your choice in clothing - never actually expecting to take someone home - but the hands rise, cradling your face as he tips it to meet his.

A low sound in your throat at his lips touch yours, your hands resting on his chest, fingers fisting in the fabric. A feather-soft brush until you shift, pressing yourself against him as you lean in.

His groan matches yours. Hands moving, skating down your arms, curving around your hips. Your hips roll on their own, seeking the friction of his trousers. Something warm pooling in your belly, when he deepens the kiss.

Encouraging you, as those hands guide the roll of your hips again. As his tongue brushes against lips that part without thought.

There’s the sharp punch of fruit on his tongue, paired with the taste of him. A heady mixture, making you feel like you could get drunk off just this.

You can feel him harden beneath you. Pressing against your cleft as your thighs inch further apart. It’s only when your hands leave his - reaching for the bottom of your shirt, that he breaks away.

His lips kiss-swollen and pretty. Disheveled, his tie crooked, shirt wrinkled from your fingers. Equally dazed, his eyes flicking down to your mouth, and then further again.

“Not here.” Harvey’s voice is a low rasp, unmoving despite his demand.

It has your pausing, until you catch the way his first two fingers slip under the hem, petting against skin.

“Bedroom?” You offer, and he’s smiling. Leaning forward to kiss you again. Easing you off him but it’s reluctant - his fingers twining with yours as you stumble into the next room.

It’s darker in there, the light from the television flickering against the floor. Dissolving as it reaches your bed, your knees parting this time as he stands between them.

Your eyes greedy, focused on his fingers as he loosens his tie, the first few buttons of his shirt. His own drifting over every inch and curve of you. A short intake of air as you tug the shirt from your shoulders, leaving it to drop on the floor.

It feels like you’re on display, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not with the way he looks at you - his eyes snagging on the damp patch between your thighs, the pale fabric darkening with your arousal.

“You want to know what I was really thinking about?” He rasps, the tips of his fingers skating against your waist, slipping down to tease against the elastic band.

You’re near-mute. Left nodding, as the bed dips. As he urges you back into the pillows, folding himself onto the mattress with you.

“I was thinking-,” He tests the band, a finger slipping beneath. Inching it away from your skin, but not making to remove them, “A girl like you should be taken care of.”

His voice drops, “And that I wanted to be the one to do it.”

You feel yourself clench down around nothing. A low whine in your throat at the tone of his voice. So matter-of fact. Like he knows how to do just what he says.

“Can you?” It comes out strangled, your breath held as his eyes fix on yours, “Could you show me? What it’s like to be taken care of?”

“Would you like that, sweetheart?” He asks - his gaze searching. Slipping a second finger under, the blunt nails grazing sensitive skin.

“Yoba.” Your hips feel like they lift on their own, seeking him, “Yes. Please, yes.”

He smiles again, the moonlight catching on his glasses. A hand running through tousled curls, mussing them further. Fingers joining yours as your panties join the floor, baring yourself fully.

You expect him to touch you and he does - but not in the way you’re thinking. Lowering himself next to you, guiding your mouth to his again. His hand skimming the inside of your thigh. Fingers slipping along the crease where it meet your hip, inches away from where you ache for him.

“Harvey.” You sigh into his mouth. Chasing it when he pulls back, hearing the pleased hum in his throat. Carefully removing his glasses, tucking them into his shirt pocket.

Then his mouth is dropping to your neck, where your pulse flutters. To your shoulder. All while his fingers trace your skin, making you squirm in anticipation.

When his tongue peeks out to brush against tight, peaked nipple, you hear yourself cry out. Clinging to him again, as teeth graze against your breast - followed by a soothing kiss, his mustache tickling against the soft curve.

“I need you to touch me,” You pant.

Long forgetting what it was like to feel like this. The anticipation swirling in you like a dam about to burst. The desperation - knowing after all this time of wanting him, that tonight he is yours.

Your own hands grasping at him - tugging at the buttons. Pale skin and dark hair appearing with each one that loosens, trying to pull the hem from where it tucks into his trousers.

The hand against your thigh twitches, his gaze dark as he glances up at you. No longer hidden behind frames, you can see how his pupils are blown wide, inching out the hazel.

“I just want to make sure you’re ready, sweetheart.” He rasps, inching closer - fingers parting on either side of your mound.

“Want you nice and wet for me.”

It’s too much. You’re too wound up, needy. In your daydreams you’ve thought of him - in your bed, bent over the table in his office. Everything pales in comparison to this, turning you into a begging mess.

“I am,” You breathe, “Fuck, Harvey. You know I am, I’m-”

The words break off, turning into a ragged moan as he finally touches you. Parting your slick seam, where you’re dripping from the press of his mouth and the teasing glide of his fingers.

“There you are.” He hums, though you can feel the way his hips press against yours. Chasing his own urges, seeking friction where he strains.

Your eyes flutter half-shut as he teases as your entrance. Fingertips slick as he brings them up to circle your clit, sparks going up inside your belly.

Watching as he moves, the careful ease from where he lies next to you - now settling between your thighs.

“Yoba, you’re beautiful.”

He says it so simply, almost as if in awe. Your thighs start to clamp shut around his hand but he’s smiling - his left palm pressing your leg to the bed, opening you further.

Not used to his gaze like this. It flicks from your face, down to where his hands shift - his thumb rolling against your clit, as his middle finger sinks inside you.

He can feel how you clench around him already. Movements slow, drawing himself out just to sink further each time.

“So fucking pretty.” He says it again - you think, just to see you squirm. The way your eyes pull from his, the flex of your muscle under his palm.

Transfixed by the way his fingers move. The pressure against your clit, the way he presses deep. Your small room filled with the little sounds you make and the slick plunge of his finger.

Your panting breath catching, turning sharp as his finger crooks on the next pass. Carefully stroking against your inner walls, a throb of pleasure following.

He catches your sounds, a mark forming between his eyebrows. One you’ve seen before, in the way he focuses when you’re explaining something about your farm. A sweet stretch of pressure when he adds his ring finger, opening you further as he strokes again.

You haven’t felt anything quite like this. A ghost of it, with past lovers. Something that made your muscles tighten, but never so focused.

Like he’s intentionally searching for this spot that makes sparks arc up your spine. Making you ache for more - to be filled by him.

“Mm,” He hums with satisfaction, “Right there. Does that feel good?”

It’s hard to think, with the thrust of his fingers. The circling pressure against your clit. Your own fingers curling - one in the sheets, an anchor. The other drifting up to cup at your breast, unable to help leaning into his ministrations.

“Tell me, sweetheart.”

There’s an edge to his voice. One that he uses in his place of authority, one that only stokes the roaring flame in your belly. Everything winding tight in anticipation, each steady pump of his fingers hurtling you towards your peak.

“Yes,” You moan, “Yes. Oh, Harvey-”

His head dips, mouth pressing a kiss against your abdomen.

“Good girl.” He husks, with your answer. The words shoot straight to your cunt, just as you begin to arch into his touch.

“Oh, please-” You whine, eyes sliding shut, “Fuck, you’re gonna make me come.”

The pinch of your fingers harsh against the tight bud of your nipple. The flicker of pain melding with the tight swirl of his thumb.

“Good.” He all but growls, the words low and rough in his throat, “Come on, honey. Show me.”

Your next moan turns high and long - as that tight string inside you finally snaps. A throbbing pleasure that begins at the apex of your thighs, radiating outwards as you bear down around him.

The hand in your sheets grasping and slipping on your way to him - his hand leaves your thigh to twine with it. Anchoring you as your hips buck into fingers that have gone still, giving you something to clench around.

“Just like that,” He coos, “Ride it out, I’ve got you.”

His breath warm against your skin, a kiss pressed to your stomach again, then hip.

“It’s not you,” Harvey tells you, each kiss moving lower, “You know that, right?”

Your breath catching - it feels like your cunt is still pulsing, when his mouth dips further. Not waiting for your answer this time - driving his point home with the talented tongue that suddenly presses against the bud of your clit, wet and warm.

Ensuring you won’t forget.

A moan is ripped from you, as he teases. Tight pointed licks, a flat lick following. A rough groan as he tastes your orgasm that coats his fingers, only just how beginning to move.

You’re too sensitive, squirming at his touch. Panting breaths and little jerks of your hips, the tight twist of overstimulation bleeding into something smooth and sweet as honey.

He’s ruining you for everyone else. The thought is a blurry one, something you can barely snatch. He hasn’t even fucked you yet, and you’ve already come harder than you ever have.

And is already working you towards a second. A rough groan when you let your fingers leave his to twist in his dark curls. Grasping onto his shoulder with the other one, his shirt wrinkling further.

You want it off. You want all of it off, want him bare and on top of you. Want to taste him on your tongue. Taste yourself against his lips, after this.

Unsure how he’s able to do it. Bring you to the edge again so quickly, but maybe it’s because you’ve never desired someone like this.

Deeper than desire, though you’re not quite ready to admit it.

You’re brought back, as his palm presses beneath your thigh. Hiking it over a shoulder, opening you to be devoured. Those fingers more confident now, sure and slick as they pound into you. Louder now, with the way you coat them, your release smeared across your thighs.

This time when you come, it’s against his tongue.

Brought over with the way his lips close sound and suck. The way he groans at your taste, his clever fingers leaving you breathless.

Choking on your heartbeat as you shatter. His wide palm curled around your thigh, keeping your cunt pinned against his tongue.

This time he can feel your pulse. Each throb of pleasure as it resonates through you. Feel the way you gush for him - his fingers dampening further, across knuckles and the flesh of his palm.

“Fuck.” You moan, when you can breathe again.

You expect him to pull away, after this. He must know you’re more than ready. But instead all you can see is dark eyes, a tongue that slips between the fingers that are still buried in you.

“Harvey,” You gasp, as his tongue then lifts to curl over your clit again, “Don’t you want to-?”

Doesn’t he want to fuck you?

Isn’t he aching, like you are?

“Tonight is about you,” He answers firmly. Lips glossy with your release, and despite his words you don’t miss the way his hips press into the bed.

“Sounds like I got some time to make up for.”

Your head falls back onto the pillow as you huff a laugh, breath catching as you feel his fingers slip free just long enough to work in a third.

Already finding that spot again, as he begins to build towards a third.

If he can read you this easily already, you think dizzily…

You can’t wait to find out everything else he knows.

So here for the Harvey Renaissance 🙏💕 would love to know what you thought! Are you enjoying 1.6? (If so what are your mod recs???) | part ii is up here!

#just something fun #this was a wip from 2022 💀 but excited to come back to it!!#sdv harvey x reader #sdv harvey x farmer #stardew valley Harvey x reader #sdv harvey imagine #stardew valley smut #sdv harvey

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empresskylo · 9 months

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➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ➠ GUNSLINGER SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X AFAB!READER ➠ afab!reader. kinda mean!ghost. blood. gun violence. gore. smut. p in v. sex without protection. wild west au. wc 5.9k. ➠SUMMARY | you find yourself getting tangled up in the mission of a group of outlaw cowboys and ghost doesn't seem to take a liking to you. that is until you get hurt. ➠AUTHOR'S NOTE | cowboy ghost! cowboy ghost! cowboy ghost!

gunslinger ghost image cr ✩ 𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

you flipped another coin onto the bar, thanking the bartender as he refilled your glass with whiskey. you turned and leaned back, taking a sip of your drink. the high-noon light poured into the saloon, dust particles sparkling in its rays.

you played with the gun in your holster aimlessly as a group of men you’ve never seen before walked in. they pushed through the batwing doors and took in their surroundings, appraising the people of al mazrah. the piano stopped momentarily, synchronizing with the speechlessness of the room.

your eyes glazed over several cowboys, all with their own unique getup. but the one that drew your attention the most was a man donning a red skull mask. it reflected the midday sun and piqued your curiosity. he stood behind the others, his head not scanning the saloon like his friends were. you felt his eyes settle on you and your cheeks went hot at the attention.

they all approached the bar and you kept your eyes locked on them in a challenge. “afternoon, ma’am,” the only man in the group without some form of face covering said, tipping his hat as he did.

you glanced up at him, narrowing your eyes before taking a swig of your drink. “can i help you boys?”

the other three men gathered around, one of them–the youngest looking of the bunch–leaned on the bartop and waved two fingers in the air to gain the bartender's attention. “whiskey neat,” you heard him order. it made the corner of your lip quirk upwards.

“that depends,” he drawled. “we’re lookin’ for a wanted man.” he slid a wanted poster onto the bartop and you turned to look at it. you traced over the sketch’s features and the man’s name, all the while you could feel eyes burning through you.

you turned back to the man. “i don’t recognize his likeness, but his name sounds familiar.”

“yeah?”

“i think i’ve heard of him and his men causing trouble up the bend at the neighboring town. ‘bout 20 miles from here, give or take.”

he reached up and scratched his overgrown stubble. “well, that helped plenty. thanks…” he drew out the word, waiting for you to introduce yourself.

you accepted his extended hand and told him your name, your eyes flickering behind him to the man in the red skull mask. “john,” he said back to you, his free hand tipping his hat down again but in a thanks this time.

you wondered who these men were working for. they didn’t exactly look like your typical bounty hunters. they were far more intimidating than that. their gear more intricate and sharp.

“gaz, pay the man. we’re leaving,” john said. gaz downed his whiskey and threw a few coins on the counter before following his friends out.

you watched as they drew everyone’s attention as they strolled out of the saloon. you were torn back and forth between doing something very thoughtless and stupid. you looked at the bartender–someone who had listened to you drone on and on about how nothing interesting ever happened in this town. he gave you a nod as he wiped down a glass, a sly smile forming on his lips.

“ shit ,” you muttered as you pushed yourself away from the bar and scurried outside.

the men were mounting their horses off to the side of the building. your boots echoed off the wooden porch as you hurried towards them. the men looked up at you as you jostled down the stairs and to the dirt road.

john raised a brow at you, a small smile creeping on his lips.

“i, uhm…” you hesitated. you summoned the courage inside of you–mainly from the whiskey–as john patiently waited for you to speak. “i was hopin’ i could come along.”

john smiled at you, his rough hands holding onto the reigns of his horse. “and why might we allow that?”

you stood up a bit taller. “i know i’m a woman, but–”

“didn’t say nothin’ ‘bout you bein’ a woman.”

you pursed your lips. the men’s eyes tentatively watched you as they each half-focused on what they were doing before you came storming over. “i’m a good shot. i have nothin’ left for me here,” you gestured around the desolate town. “i’d like to help.”

john looked pensive. “no,” a deep, guttural voice said. your eyes flickered to the man in the skull mask and grimaced.

“don’t mind ghost. he’s not used to new company.” ghost . a chill ran up your spine at the name. these were no average bounty hunters you’d be getting yourself involved in, that was definitely clear now. it was like john could read your thoughts. “can’t guarantee your safety… but i don’t see why not. ”

you nodded. “that’s alright. i know the risks.”

ghost grumbled something and rode off. the other three men ignored him, like they were used to his grumpy behavior. “this here is gaz and soap,” john said, pointing to each man respectively.

you smiled at them. “got yourself a horse?” soap asked you, pulling his bandana down so you could see his mouth move as he talked. you nodded, your heart racing at the promise of adventure.

you adjusted your hat as you followed closely behind the men on horseback. you felt like you stuck out like a sore thumb. the men were absent of all colors apart from ghost’s red skull mask. they each had on a black outfit, paired with black boots, and a black hat. you, on the other hand, had on a dirty brown jacket, brown boots, faded blue pants, and a sunbleached hat. you never would have thought your outfit would seem almost colorful.

you galloped closer to john, al mazrah getting smaller and smaller as you rode further away from the town.

“heard people talkin’ ‘bout some bandits robbing folk around the bend comin’ up.”

john glanced at you before shifting his eyes to soap who was in hearing range.

“woulda been nice to know that a bit earlier,” a deep voice said. you turned to see ghost riding at your side, his eyes bright against the black on his skin. you felt your chest tighten.

“i-i didn’t think of it. didn’t realize where we were till i saw the hill in the bend in the road up ahead.”

ghost grunted, looking over at john who sat opposite of you. “no use arguing ‘bout it now,” he placated.

before he could open his mouth to continue, a gunshot rang in your ear. your eyes widened as you looked forward, stupefied. your ears rang and your hands came up to clamp over your ears before you yelped in pain. you could hear the soft rumble of more gunshots going off, but it was like you were stuck in your own little bubble.

you pulled your hands down and looked at them, blood covering your left hand.

oh my god , you thought. you were shot.

you heard your name coming in louder and louder until you finally could hear clearly again. you looked up to ghost who was grabbing your arm and yelling your name. his other hand held his shotgun, extended as he pulled it, and shot a bandit in the chest, knocking him off his horse.

“focus!” he shouted. you nodded and locked eyes.

“i’m okay,” you said. you knew the bullet must have hit skin, or you wouldn’t be bleeding, but it was just a graze.

“your gun!” he growled.

you shook your head to come to your senses and pulled your gun from it’s holster. ghost’s hand left you and you felt a chill run through your arm at the loss.

you aimed to shoot one of the bandits immediately before he had time to raise his own gun at soap. your eyes moved and you saw john jump off his horse and tackle a man to the ground, knocking him out cold with a few punches.

soap was aiming up on the hill, taking out a couple of men stationed there. they were waiting for someone stupid enough to come trotting down their trail. you felt like shit for not remembering this crucial bit of information until it was too late.

you shot another bandit, riding your horse further up the road. you spotted ghost as he shot down a bandit coming at him before loading his gun in no time at all, then shooting the man riding up on gaz’s tail. another man came up from behind him and ghost had his knife in his hand and sliced across the man’s throat before you could even blink.

you were no stranger to violence, but these men were cold-blooded killers, you’d be stupid to not feel a trace of formidable fear run up your spine.

the gunshots slowly simmered down and the five of you found yourselves coming back together. you slid off your horse as the others did. “jesus,” gaz mumbled, his breathing slightly heavy.

ghost flung himself off his horse and stormed up to you, grabbing your arm like he did earlier, and turning you to him.

“what–?”

his gloved hand came up to your jaw and turned your head so he could see the drying blood that coated your ear. “fuckin’ hell. you coulda been killed.”

“yes, thank you. so glad i have you to point that out,” you snarled.

john, soap, and gaz were busy talking, likely going over the group's next course of actions, and paid no mind to you and ghost as he hissed at you.

“what's your problem with me?”

ghost released you and took a step back. “what’s my problem with you?” it was just now that you could really hear his accent. he wasn’t from around here, that was for sure.

you nodded.

“not keen on having to babysit.”

your eyes blared with heat, your fists clenching. “fuckin’ hell! you barely know me! i’ve done nothing that says i’m not up for this,” you gestured around you, “so i got shot unexpectedly, i hardly think that's my fault.”

he just stared at you, which honestly, frustrated you even more.

“you ever take that stupid thing off?” you asked, referring to his mask. god, you were proving him right–you were acting like a baby.

“why? you wanna know what's underneath?”

his husky voice made your chest flutter. there was something about the combination of his terrifying appearance, his deep voice, and the way he seemed utterly concerned for your safety. it was doing things to your insides that you didn’t appreciate.

he leaned in closer. “does it unsettle you, pet?” he asked, referring to his mask.

frankly, it did. his entire body was covered from head to toe. the only bit of him you saw was his eyes, and even those were darkened with charcoal. maybe you were stupid to trust these men. it was just hitting you now that you were with a group of insanely skilled men. alone .

it was as if ghost could read the sudden hesitation and regret that filled your features. his voice was low as he spoke. “we won’t hurt ya.” you swallowed hard. you should leave while it’s still daylight. “ not unless you ask. ”

your jaw would have fallen slack if you weren’t wound up so tight from ghost standing so close. he slid past you and you turned, starstruck, forcing your feet to move so you were standing in a circle with the men.

“we’re only a few miles out from town. and clearly, we’re at a disadvantage,” john spoke. “we should split up and surround the town, figure out if hassan is there. and locate his base. it’s our best bet.”

soap and gaz nodded.

“good,” john said in response to the agreement for his plan. “i’ll flank west. soap you go right. gaz you can take the southern part of town. ghost, north.”

you looked up at john expectantly. he went to open his mouth–to invite you to tag along with him you assumed–but ghost beat him to it. “she’ll come with me.” it wasn’t a question. and you hated that it sparked something inside you.

john nodded. “we got a few more hours of daylight left. let's go. we’ll convene in the center of town.”

you trailed behind ghost on your horse. you two had gone off the road and were currently riding over the rough terrain of the surrounding woods. the sun was slowly setting and you found it hard to see your footing with all the shadows the trees cast.

“so what’d you want with this guy anyways?” you asked ghost, breaking the silence.

“he’s the enemy,” he said flatly.

you rolled your eyes. “yeah. i get that. but why exactly are you–”

he cut you off with a single finger to his lips, his eyes gesturing in front of him. you immediately went silent, slowly reaching for your gun.

you both paused on your horses, sitting still, listening. you felt your heartbeat racing in your chest.

that's when you saw movement in the distance. “ghost! behind you–”

your warning was muffled as a hand wrapped around your face, covering your mouth, and yanking you off your horse. you slashed back and forth, trying to fight off whoever had you in their grip.

you kicked backward, hitting them in the knee, and they finally dropped you to the ground. “fuckin’ bitch!”

you spun around, stumbling to your feet and grabbing your gun out of its holster. it was just one guy. you could take him.

as you raised your gun, another man appeared beside him. your eyes widened. okay, this was going to be harder than you thought.

“i wouldn’t do that if i was you,” the other man said.

you gulped. before you could fully raise your hand, a third man knocked the gun from your hand and twisted your arm, holding you against him. “you don’t like to listen, do ya?”

you showed your teeth as you struggled against him. you kicked and squirmed as you felt the air begin to slip from you.

suddenly, the man around you went slack, his arm falling, and hot liquid trailed your back. you turned and watched the man sink to the ground, grabbing at the slit in his throat. behind him towered ghost.

he had blood on his mask and he was breathing so rapidly you could see his chest moving up and down under all his layers.

you didn’t have long to take him in before he pushed you aside and began fighting the other two men. you scanned behind you and saw two other bodies sprawled on the rocky ground. he had already taken down three men. your eyes widened.

“go!” he shouted at you. in the quick second he was distracted, one of the bandits managed to get a swing in and hit ghost right under his jaw.

you mustered the courage inside yourself and you sprinted at the three men. you jumped on one of them, flying to the ground with him, landing atop him. his hand reached out and wrapped around your neck but you were faster. your knife was already plowing into the side of his skull. his hand fell loosely to his side.

you huffed as you climbed off of him. ghost’s hands struggled but he managed to get them on the man’s head that he was fighting and in a quick and sharp twist, he broke his neck.

you gasped slightly, the air falling silent around you two. his hands were clenched at his side as you both stared at one another among the carnage.

“i told you to go.”

“and i didn’t want to,” you responded. how was he going to be mad that you helped him?

you huffed and bent over to rip the knife from the man’s skull and slid it back into its sheath. as you stood straight, ghost was pushing you against a tree. you yelped as he pinned you back.

“these aren’t just normal men,” he growled.

you searched his eyes. you hoped he couldn’t hear your heart racing. “we handled it, didn’t we?”

ghost shook his head in annoyance, his body still entraping yours. “and if we hadn’t? if you had gotten yourself killed?”

you gave him an exacerbated look. “then i’d be dead. i don’t know what you want me to tell you.”

ghost pushed away from you and began walking back to his horse. “i want you to tell me you’ll listen next time i tell you to go.”

you hesitated before you found your way back to your own steed. “why do you care so much?” you had come along to help. and that’s what you planned on doing. ghost wasn’t the boss of you.

he didn’t respond and you rode the rest of the way in silence.

it didn't take much longer to get into town. and it took an even shorter amount of time to find out hassan wasn’t here. you and the rest of the men met up in the middle of town, just like john had told you.

“y’all run into trouble?” he asked you and ghost, noticing the blood on both of your clothes.

“nothin’ we couldn’t handle,” you answered.

john’s gaze met ghost’s momentarily and he smirked. john could tell you were driving ghost crazy, just from your short interactions. he liked that someone was getting this reaction from him. it felt like so long since he had seen ghost have any sort of emotional response.

“think we should camp here for the night,” john added.

the five of you went into the town’s saloon and the men went straight to the bar. drinks were ordered and you shifted uncomfortably, playing with the glass of whiskey in your hand.

two women dressed in silky gowns, the cut of their dresses low and tight enough to expose their chests, strolled up to your group. “haven’t seen you boys before,” the blonde one said. you were in saloons enough to recognize prostitutes when you saw them.

“just passin’ through,” gaz spoke. the ladies smiled and one of their hands came out and traced along gaz’s collar.

“you look like you could use a little pick me up,” she said sweetly.

you saw where this was going and you felt yourself grow uncomfortable. “i think i’m gonna go to my room,” you mumbled. john saluted you off, his attention going back to soap as they talked. one of the girls made her way to ghost and you hated that a pang of jealousy coursed through you as she sat on his lap.

his eyes flickered to you as the woman whispered in his ear. the saloon was filled with a cacophony of noise, music playing loudly, and the sound of the girls giggling. no one but ghost had even paid attention to you leaving. and you really couldn’t hold it against any of them. you barely knew them. you weren’t friends yet.

you felt your breath hitch as the woman reached her hand out to trace ghost’s mask, his hand catching her wrist. you wanted to turn to finish going up the stairs but your eyes were locked in challenge with his.

he nudged the girl off his lap and she huffed slightly before turning her attention to soap. your face felt inflamed as you turned and went up the stairs, slipping off into one of the rooms the lot of you had paid for.

why were you so attracted to ghost? he was intimidating, scary even. and you had no idea what he looked like. not even his hands or neck.

you sighed as you cleaned up, stripping your clothes down into your undergarments, washing the stain from your jacket, and hanging it against the wooden bedframe to dry.

the room was small but comfortable. you let your hair down and washed your face with the bucket of water. you wore your undershirt and underwear, everything else was either drying or removed so you could sleep comfortably.

you were ready to slip into bed when you hear footsteps stumbling past your room. you wondered if it was one of the men. you heard a woman’s voice and that same, uncomfortable feeling squeezed your chest. maybe it was ghost bringing one of the women back to his room.

you walked to your door and your hand hovered over the doorknob. you wanted to peek out, just to see. to see if it was ghost, or one of the others from downstairs. you were being crazy, you knew it. but you pulled the door open ever so slightly and peered out. you jumped, a loud yelp escaping you as a large ghost stood in your doorway.

he deftly pushed your door open and made his way inside your small room. he kicked it closed behind him, his eyes trailing your exposed body shadowed by the small glow of the few candles by your bedside.

“ghost,” you breathed, unsure of what else to say. you could smell whiskey on him as he walked closer. you looked up at him, his eyes piercing your own. his mask still had blood on it. and the way the shadows of the room illuminated and hid his features was haunting.

“were you jealous?” he said.

you were taken aback but his question. you almost laughed. what on earth was happening? ghost just barged inside your room and was asking if you were jealous. of what? the woman on his lap earlier? why would he think that?

“did you hear a woman outside your door and open it to see if it was me who was bedding one of the whores?”

your mouth hung open at his forward words. that was one thing you came to know about ghost: he said whatever the fuck he was thinking.

“i… i…” you stuttered.

ghost spun you around, slamming you against the wall, one hand coming out beside your head, the other on your hip. you were startled, unsure of what to say or do. ghost’s hand on your hip slid down to the apex of your thighs, slowly slipping between them and pressing against you. you gasped.

“tell me. were. you. jealous? ”

you swallowed hard before nodding. “y-yes.”

you could almost hear the smile in his voice as he hummed. he rubbed you a few times over your underwear before backing away slightly and removing his gloves. your marvled at his hands before they were lost between your legs again.

he slipped one into your panties and circled your clit. your hands finally came out and grabbed onto his shoulders, small little noises escaping you.

“mhmmm,” he hummed, “already so wet for me, pet.” one of his fingers slid inside your heat painfully slow and your eyes rolled back. he pumped his finger a few times before pulling out of you. your eyes focused back on him as he nudged his mask up and slid his finger into his mouth. you could see the stubble on his chin and the soft pink of his lips.

when he pulled his finger out, he spoke. “still want to see what i look like?” he teased.

you nodded. he didn't move, waiting for you to take initiative. your hands crept up and you peeled his mask off–the cloth covering and the hard red skull. you tossed it onto the floor and were faced with a beautiful man. he was both rugged and pretty. it almost hurt to look at him.

he had a scar running below his eye and one slicing his upper lip. his eyes were smoked out in black that smudged his skin and ran down his face from sweat. his hair was surprisingly light and soft looking. you couldn’t help yourself as you ran your hand up the back of his head and into his hair.

you didn’t say it, but ghost could see the way you were taking his features in. you were pleased. pleasantly surprised.

his lips came down on yours, crushing against you and pushing you flat against the wall. his mouth moved in sync with yours, making you groan against him. his hand slid into your hair and grabbed it, pulling your head back to expose your neck to him. he began to place kisses there and you felt your legs squeeze together.

“never wanted anyone so bad in my life,” he grumbled against your skin. you felt your heart race at the confession. it made your head dizzy to think this terrifying killer wanted you . he wanted you so bad he couldn’t help himself. he was so set on you that he didn’t give a shit how many women came onto him downstairs at the bar. he just wanted to get up to your room and throw you against the wall. no stranger had even consumed his thoughts like this.

his rough hand ran up your front and grabbed the hem of your loose undershirt before pulling it off your body. he stood back and looked at you, licking his lips.

before you had time to feel self-conscious, his mouth was diving for your chest and sucking one of your nipples into his mouth. you let out a breathless moan, your hands running through his hair. his hands slid to your ass and squeezed, pulling your hips against him. you could feel him tenting through his pants.

before you could even think, he was on his knees, yanking your underwear all the way down your legs. you felt a weird sense of excitement course through you seeing him still fully dressed, knelt before you, while you were completely naked.

he grabbed one of your legs and pulled it so you bent it over his shoulder. then his face was pleasantly nestled between your thighs. he sucked and licked at you and you threw your head back against the wall in a cry. “g-god.”

you could feel him smile against you. his stubble tickled you as his tongue moved in and out of you, then traced you up and down, before repeating the actions. you actually felt like you couldn’t breathe. and when two of his fingers came up to slide inside you while his mouth worked your clit, you felt your chest tighten and a hot flutter pool at the base of your spine.

“lemme hear you,” he grunted. you panted and moaned as he continued to work his mouth against you. it didn’t take long before you were shaking and crying out. your hands gripped the wall behind you, your nails digging into the wood.

ghost worked you through your orgasm, lapping every drop of you up until you were begging him to stop.

you didn’t have a real chance to catch your breath and really take in what was happening because ghost was shoving you down onto your knees before him. he was undoing his belt, his lips glistening. you hesitantly reached up and replaced his hands. he let you take over and you unbuttoned and unzipped his dark trousers, releasing his cock from its restraints.

you swallowed at his size, your eyes widening slightly. you heard ghost chuckle above you. annoyed that he was somehow getting satisfaction out of your surprise and tentativeness, you took him in your mouth without warning. ghost’s chuckle turned into a choked groan.

you bobbed up and down, not taking your time at all, your hand coming up to wrap around the base of him to move in sync with your mouth. you could hear him panting as you slid your tongue up and down, swirling it around the tip before sinking him back deep inside of you.

he swore under his breath as you pumped him a few times, kissing the tip of his cock already leaking with precum. when you took him in your mouth again, his hand fisted your hair and his hips swung forward, rutting himself into you.

you braced a hand against his thigh as he took control, moving in and out of your mouth at a faster speed than you were taking him moments ago. he hit the back of your throat and you swallowed so you wouldn’t choke and his head flew back and he moaned uncontrollably.

you coughed and tried to catch your breath as he pulled out of you. tears were running down your face and you wiped your mouth. his fingers slid under your chin and tilted your head up towards him.

“you’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me, pet.” his thumb traced your bottom lip as he studied you, face flushed and glowing, tears making your eyes sparkle, your lips swollen and red, sat back on your haunches as you looked up. you were a marvel.

he pulled you up and pushed you onto your bed. you watched as he crawled on top of you. your hands slid to his shirt and vest and you began to unbutton them. “want this off,” you muttered.

his eyes searched yours for a moment, hesitating before he did what you wanted and stripped his top bare. it was hard to see in the dim light but you could tell he had scarring along his chest and back. you wondered if he was somehow ashamed or embarrassed by them and that’s why he contemplated removing his shirt or not.

he settled back between your legs and you traced one of the scars on his shoulders before looking up at him. he was already looking at you, his eyes boring into your own. “how’d you get this?” you asked.

he tilted his head, his hand brushing the side of your hair then cupping your cheek. “bounty hunting.” you looked at him expectantly. “he had me pinned down, tried to slit my throat. i kicked him from underneath and it made him miss. still hurt like a bitch though,” he said with a bit of faux mirth.

you pulled him down to kiss you, his lips moving softer against you than earlier, gentle, but still just as hungry.

he rolled his hips against you and you both groaned. “i need to fuck you so bad,” he said against your mouth.

“so do it then.”

his eyes flared as he pulled back and looked at you. his hands shuffled his pants the rest of the way off and he lined himself up with your entrance. your hands wrapped around his back as he began to ease his way into you.

you squeezed your eyes shut as he edged further in. he paused when he saw you. “am i hurting you?”

you shook your head. “no. keep going.” he gave you a questioning look, not sure if you were lying or not before he pushed all the way in. you both gasped as he sank as far as he could go.

you both panted, trying to catch your breaths as he let you adjust to his size. he tested the waters by pulling out a little bit and pushing back in. he groaned deep in his chest as you spasmed around him, unused to someone of his size.

“fuckin’ hell,” he said to himself. he knew he wasn’t going to last long. but fuck, he wanted to get you off at least one more time.

he began to thrust in and out of you, doing a little more each time until he was almost pulling all the way out before thrusting back against your hips.

the pain subsided and all you felt was ripples of pleasure as he moved inside of you. your nails dug into his back, your legs hooking around him and urging him to go faster.

“you feel so good,” he mumbled against your neck. you mewled and threw your head back against the mattress as he relentlessly pounded into you, going rather hard now that you seemed to take him okay. the wooden bedframe crashed against the wall, thumping with the beat of his hips, but neither of you had it in you to care.

he picked up speed and you gasped, “ah!”

he stopped moving. “shit, did i hurt you?”

“no, no! keep going. move! fuck, please,” you said desperately. ghost chuckled before moving again, hitting you deep with each thrust.

his smile quickly faded as he tried to stop himself from finishing too early. his hand slid between your bodies and began to rub your clit. your legs went outwards, letting him get you even deeper, and your walls spasmed around his cock. you felt yourself getting close.

you were muttering all kinds of obscenities under your breath and ghost was growling and panting as he rutted against you. “you feel–fuck–so much better than i thought.”

your fingers ran through his hair and he kissed you again. “fuck, ghost,” you moaned.

“simon.” you opened your eyes to look at him. “my name is simon.”

your eyes never left his as you whispered his name, the ‘n’ of it raising in octave as he thrusted into you. your eyes began to flutter again but one of his hands grabbed your jaw. “keep your eyes on me,” he demanded.

his dark eyes were intoxicating as they glowed in the candlelight, the dark makeup around them making them that much more captivating. his hair was disheveled from all the times your fingers ran through it. you were certain you had never seen anyone so handsome.

“i’m gonna come,” he growled. your breath picked up speed and your mouth hung open in breathy pants and little moans.

“come in me,” you pleaded. before he could even respond, your soft voice saying something so obscene had him tumbling over the edge. his finger on your clit kept moving as he spurted inside you.

you felt your legs shake and your walls clench down on him, dragging out his orgasm as he made sounds like he was in pain.

you kept your eyes locked on him as you cried out, though you found it a difficult task. you felt his warmth fill you as you shuttered around his cock. he continued to thrust through both of your highs, a guttural groan escaping him each time your hips connected.

when you both seemed to settle down, your highs coming to a blissful end, he collapsed on top of you, his face buried in your neck, breathing you in.

your hands traced absentmindedly up and down his arm as he pressed himself against you. a few minutes later he rolled over and slid out of you, white seeping out and onto the sheets. he gave you a satisfied grin as he looked between your legs. you felt oddly shy.

he laid back into your pillow and pulled you against him, wrapping his arms tightly around you. you still couldn’t fathom the fact that this man who seemed to hate you for no reason was actually extremely attracted to you and just ravished the fuck out of you. and he was far kinder in bed than you would have imagined.

you liked the feeling of security as he possessively held you to him, his hand in your hair.

you tilted your head up to him. “you might want to go back to your room,” you muttered.

“why?”

you felt your face heat. “we probably don’t want the others to find out…” this was a whole new type of situation for you, and you weren’t sure you wanted the whole group to know you and ghost just fucked, only hours after meeting one another.

he laughed. “i think they already know, pet. we weren’t exactly quiet.”

“oh my god,” you said in mortification, bringing your hands up to cover your face.

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shortsrdo · 2 years

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#RDO #red dead online #Van horn #Saloon #Piano

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strlingsav · 5 months

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Ride

– Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

— Western AU: You have a run-in with notorious outlaw, Ghost.

Explicit sexual content under the cut. Read at your own risk.

Boisterous laughter and loud conversation made it difficult to hear John beside you, though you were hardly listening. You were too preoccupied with surveillance; scanning the crowd for a familiar face- or mask, more appropriately. It seemed most folks had let loose for the evening, but your eyes and ears remained sharp as you peered around the room.

Nightfall had come, cooling the hot sand of the desert and bringing with it the expectation of drunken patrons. Candelabras, oil lamps and a roaring fire tinged the saloon red and camouflaged the smell of cigar smoke. It was the usual for the small town, the only source of entertainment and drinks within a hundred-mile radius.

It'd been a while since you had the privilege of relaxing, even if you were still hyper-vigilant. Your exhaustion came from sleepless nights while on your travels. Unable to let your guard down under the stars, you'd hardly slept in the last few days. Sleeping on buffalo pelts and red dirt; your eyes were weary and tired, though there must've been a look of contemplation in your eyes.

"What's got you quiet?" John asked, leaning in closer. "Worried?"

You looked over at him; in all his drunken relaxation and exhaustion from the day's ride, he still read your expression with ease.

"Not worried," You shook your head once- unconvincingly. "Watching."

"Think you're waitin' for somethin' bad," He joked, elbowing you a bit harshly for your liking.

"Think you're a bit too drunk," You tossed back, watching him grin.

"Loosen up, kid," He scolded. "Only here for the night."

You were about to respond, when the saloon went dead-silent; the clinking of lost coins falling as patrons froze in their footsteps, the low shuffle of chairs while they searched for their pistols- likely dropped carelessly in a drunken stupor. The tune from the piano abruptly stopped, and all heads turned to the swinging parlour doors.

You lifted your gaze and there he was. Ghost.

Your jaw clenched, sitting up straight as you watched him slide in effortlessly, like he was unaware he'd stopped the world for a second. His boots hit the floorboards with heavy thuds, his spurs clanking and spinning with each step. You watched him tip his cowboy hat to the barkeep, who appeared no less than terrified.

"No trouble, alright? Hardly finished cleanin' up from last time," The barkeep said, stern yet wavering.

"No trouble," He nodded, taking a seat at the bar.

Most of the activity had resumed, though more than half of the townsfolk had escaped the moment he stepped inside. You didn't blame them; he was an intimidating man, and his stoic nature left questions and whispers at his back. You perched up further on your seat, eyes locked on the mass of muscle that made himself comfortable on the foolishly small stool.

"Ghost," John hardly whispered- disbelief, fear, a combination of both. It ran a shiver down your spine. "Never thought I'd see him here again."

You remained silent, studying the cowboy as he hunched over the bar and nursed his drink. He peered over his shoulder, finding your prying eyes and staring right back. You swallowed harshly, wondering if he recognized you. If he knew it was you, sitting mere feet from him.

Of course he knew it was you.

"Let's get out o' here before the shite hits," John swallowed the last of his beer, throwing his coat over his shoulders.

"I'll catch up," You nodded.

John was hesitant; he knew well you'd handle your own, stand your ground, but stray bullets have no name and he worried for your life. Ghost's reputation was not one of gentleness and kind deeds- he was an outlaw.

"C'mon," He ushered.

"I'm finishing my drink. I'll catch up, John," You insisted.

He finally conceded, pulling his arm through his sleeve before nodding curtly.

"I'll pay the barkeep and stablehand. I'll come lookin' if I don't see you in the mornin'."

You nodded in response, watching him stride past the masked man, head turned as he investigated. Finally, he disappeared from the saloon, leaving you to your own devices as you sipped your whisky. It wasn't without your appreciation- but unbeknownst to John, you knew Ghost better than anyone.

Your eyes drifted around the room, not noticing him stand from his stool and approach your table until you heard the spurs hit the floor. You lifted your head then, and watched as he pulled the chair out across from you to sit down.

His scent immediately washed over you- gunpowder and rolled cigarettes. The fresh smell of whisky emanated from his lips as he spoke through the black mask over his face. The deep, inviting accent made your body shiver- already planting arousal in your womb without any effort.

"You here on business?" He asked.

"Pleasure," You replied, finishing a gulp.

You feigned relaxation, letting your shoulders fall and your back hit the chair as you leaned further away. This was your game, your routine- you enjoyed the part you played, even if it took an astounding amount of willpower not to climb onto his lap.

"Seems you're in the right place," He said back, raising his head to look at you.

"Thought so," You added. "Wasn't sure when I didn't see your face plastered around town."

You watched the fabric of his mask move- a grin. You smiled softly, smugly.

"Reason for the mask," He responded. "Lucky few get to know my face."

You raised a brow.

"Colour me flattered."

"You interested in a ride, sweetheart?" He asked, thighs spread as he leaned back in his chair.

You swallowed again, this time finishing your drink. Your hand held your chin up as your eyes met his with a glimmer of sadistic enjoyment. He watched your hat tip, and you brushed a stray lock of hair from your face as he stood to his feet.

He lead you upstairs- a room he'd rented for the evening while in search of you. You'd met a handful of times, always finding each other in the chaos of the saloon and ending the evening in whatever bed was available.

Since then, he'd come to terms with the fact that he'd ride to the ends of the earth to find you. The laws he had to break hardly mattered, neither did the "wanted" posters or the townsfolk cowering in fear at his very appearance. None of it mattered as much as finding you. You left him chasing the very hint of you, the smallest pieces he could get his hands on just for the chance of relief.

He risked his freedom every time he strolled into town. It was common knowledge everywhere he went; his previous crimes still kept him labeled as a wanted man. He could've ridden off, started a new life under his true name, but you brought him back every damn time.

"Y'were hard to find," He muttered, his lips haphazardly pressed against your neck.

He'd corralled you against the wall while his fingers worked open the buttons on your breeches. He'd ditched his hat and mask, thrown recklessly on the floor as you danced around each other in an attempt to disrobe.

"Maybe I didn't want you to find me," You answered, your arm wrapping around his head as you pulled him closer.

"Doubt that," He answered as his calloused hand dove beneath your pants, and was welcomed with warmth and wetness. "You like knowin' I'll find you wherever you go, sweetheart."

You grinned, your ego slowly shattering as his fingers teased between your thighs. Warm, calloused fingers slid through your folds, eliciting a jolt when he purposely evaded your clit. You huffed softly, humming amusedly in his ear.

"Nowhere to hide from Ghost," You whispered in his ear, making him groan. "I think you like the chase."

"I do," He grinned against your neck. "But now that I've got you- there ain't nowhere left for you to run."

You shivered as he circled your clit, the softness in his touch a stark contrast to his other hand; an iron-like grip on your waist, keeping you pinned against the wall.

The room itself was quiet and dark, lit by only a few candles and the smell reminiscent of the fire roaring beneath you. You could hardly make out his face in the orange light, but your head turned to meet his gaze, and his lips upturned subtly.

He missed you; most everything about you. Truthfully, you weren't very hard to find. You left every possible clue and trace, in hopes he'd track you down. You never stood a chance against a man like Ghost, anyway. He could practically smell you from the town over.

His cock was pressed against your thigh, a sense of anticipation creeping up your spine. You grasped at his vest and work shirt as he slid two fingers inside you, lips against your neck again as he hid his soft grunts from you.

Long fingers stroked firmly inside you, his thumb caressing the bundle of nerves above. Your knees had weakened, pushing your hips against him in an effort to get closer- to get more.

"Ghost," You muttered softly, hands planted against his chest. He was still nipping and kissing at your neck, still driving his fingers into your pussy. "Get on the bed, cowboy," You said- firmer this time, and it caught his attention.

He pulled away slowly, withdrawing his fingers before placing them in his mouth and sucking softly.

"Beautiful," His lip twitched, removing his holster from his hips while he backed up.

You followed, shrugging off your blouse and stepping out of your breeches while he unbuttoned his work shirt.

Usually, Ghost wasn't one to allow a woman control, but the way you looked riding his cock was enough of an incentive to listen.

He collapsed on the bed, taking hold of your waist as you climbed on top of him, straddling his wide hips and setting your palms on his chest. His eyes were drawn to your chest, then your stomach, then your pussy, where he felt his cock rest between your folds and shifted your hips to feel the slick wetness seeping from your pussy.

"C'mon, then," He grunted, jerking his hips up to earn your attention. "Ride it, love."

You smirked- abiding his pestering by gently coaxing his cock inside you, a slow descent to fullness, earning an airy exhale as you found yourself seated on his hips.

He groaned, aggressive hands guiding your hips back and forth, up and down. He watched as your head fell back, toes curled beneath you while your hips strode forward.

"Ghost," You exhaled again, fingernails digging into the muscle and taught meat of his chest.

He sat up, his hand finding the small of your back, matching your rhythm with short thrusts. His other hand used heavy pressure against your clit, head tilted up while he watched your eyes squeeze shut with pleasure.

Your stomach twisted, pace increasing while you fell deeper and deeper, closing in on your orgasm with ambition. Your hips retreated, desperate to ease the over-stimulation and try to bring yourself back to present, before he tugged you closer and rammed his hips up into you.

"Don't run from me," He chided, eyes face-level with your bouncing tits, he brought one of your erect nipples to his mouth and sucked hard. "Take it, love."

You gasped, your body pushed over the boundary of stubbornness and finally allowing your orgasm to pass through your insides. Your entire body filled with heat, flushing red-hot blood through your womb as your pussy clenched around his cock.

"So good," You managed a whisper, jaw clenching before you sucked in a sharp breath to regain clarity.

"No cunt as good as yours," He grumbled, his hot tongue running across your breasts and circling your nipples. His fingers dug into your soft flesh, your body nearly crumbling in his hands. "Keep goin' sweetheart."

Your laboured breaths spurred him on, leaning against the wall as he sat up to finally kiss you, harsh lips enveloping yours. He sneaked his tongue inside your mouth, teeth nipping at your bottom lip.

"Y'want it in you?" He asked, nearly breathless.

You nodded, eyes glazed over and too exhausted to answer. He released inside you, muscles tensing and cock twitching as warm spurts of cum coated your walls.

You took a moment to catch your breath, before dismounting and collapsing next to him with a huff.

"You onto the next after this?" He asked.

"Gotta be," You tilted your head to smile softly at him. "Can't stick around for long- people get suspicious."

"Come with me," He said, less of a question and more of a suggestion.

"You wanna run away together?" You asked, grinning.

"I'd turn myself in 'for I let you get away again."

You let out a short chuckle, "Alright, outlaw. Get your rest- we're gone at dawn."

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