#southern au

[roses-for-rosalyn]

Are You Sure Miss?

Abby x reader

minirs dni (I will hunt u down)

This is strongly inspired by this audio by Jupiter X. Please please go visit her reddit and twitter she's literally so amazing. I really enjoyed writing this, it's probably my favorite thing I've ever written.

summary: the farmers daughter becomes infatuated with the farm hand

word count: 5.3k

content warnings: southern fem! reader, southern abby, mentions of masterbation, kissing, neck kissing, oral (r! receiving), fingering (r! receiving), use of strap on, mirror sex, teasing, mild orgasm denial, Abby moaning hehe, no use of y/n, Abby being big and strong

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The farmer's daughter in love with the farm hand. What a fucking cliché. Any sensible woman would have the dignity to at least pretend they weren’t infatuated, to allow themselves a denial of their feelings. You’re honestly not sure how much you valued your dignity at this point. 

Your father had hired her about two months ago. You usually walked the grounds every day to pass the time, you enjoyed the fresh air and it gave you an excuse to get out of the house. your father thought you too fragile to do anything besides shopping, walking or occasionally traveling. As a result your life was painfully mundane…until she showed up. The first day she was on the job you were out on one of your usual, painfully boring walks when you noticed someone new was working with the other farm hands. She stood out as she was working a job that was mostly reserved for men. She was stacking hay bales, tossing them with ease. you observed the way her strong arms strained against the fabric of her shirt and couldn't help but imagine how easily she could sweep you off your feet. You were just close enough where you could discern the sweat on her brow, her blonde hair sticking to her forehead. Her chest heaved with effort as she threw the bales of hay as if they were made of feathers. You were so lost in thought that you hadn’t realized you stopped in your tracks to watch her. You continued walking and swore to yourself you would keep a distance. No reason to make a fuss and cause your father to lose a perfectly good farmhand. Maybe even the best farmhand he’d ever had, she was stronger than any man he'd ever hired. 

Eventually you learned her name: Abby. Even learning something that small made everything worse. 

Now you had a name to whimper as you ground into your pillow at night, imagining it was one of her strong thighs. Every day since you’d dreamt of her using her strength to fuck you senseless, you imagined how she’d wrap her muscular arms around your thighs to hold you in place while she assaulted your clit with her tongue. You were getting desperate, every time you went on one of your walks your panties grew soaked just watching her work. 

One day you worked up the courage to ask her a favor.  

“Abby,” you called out to her “do ya mind helping me with something?” You asked, purposefully making your southern accent extra thick and sweet. The words came out smooth as honey causing Abby to turn her head in surprise. She had never heard you speak before and she decided right then and there she could listen to you talk for hours. You usually used that voice to get men to help you with things, but you had a feeling she could help you more than any man could. 

She nodded and jogged over “What do ya need miss?” God her voice was perfect,  a faint southern lilt dripping off each word as she spoke. 

This was the first time you had gotten close to her, you realized how far she towered over you. She was intimidating in every sense of the word. You could make out the freckles that dotted across her nose and spilled onto her cheeks. Her blue eyes were mesmerizing against her fair skin. The sun filtered through her blonde hair creating a soft glowing halo around her head. 

“You alright miss?” You hadn’t even realized you were staring, she was looking at you with a mild concern, her head slightly tilted. 

“Yes ’m fine,” You took a breath and looked down to escape her intense gaze. “The heat must be gettin’ to me, that’s all.” You let out a soft laugh and summoned the strength to look back up at her. “Can you just help me get these groceries inside? Normally I’d do it myself, but it’s just so darn hot today n’ some of these bags are pretty heavy.” You definitely could have carried them in yourself, but where’s the fun in that? You just wanted an excuse to get close to her, that's all. 

“Whatever ya need miss.”  She grinned and walked past you to grab the groceries out of the truck bed. You couldn’t help but ogle for a moment at her strength. Her muscles flexed as she added bag after bag to her arms. She grabbed every single one of the bags in one trip, you only had to retrieve your purse from the passenger’s side of the truck. You ran ahead to open the door for her, since she had her hands full.

“Thanks.” She turned her head, smiled and nodded at you in appreciation. You smiled back, looking up at Abby with wide doe eyes that practically made her melt. You followed her inside and watched her gently place the groceries on the table as you put your purse down next to them. 

Abby turned to you and asked “Need anything else from me miss?” She was secretly hoping you had a laundry list of chores for her just so she could spend some more time with you. You had her wrapped around your finger in mere moments with your soft frilly dresses and your sickly sweet voice. 

“Not at the moment, but you best bet I’ll be asking you for help more often after this.” You smiled sheepishly at her, attempting to play into your role as the helpless farmer’s daughter. You had a feeling it was working with the way she was looking down at you like you were edible. If Abby had her way at that moment she would have whisked you away upstairs and devoured you until your sweet moans deafened her.  

“I’m here for whatever you need, miss.” She smirked and nodded before turning away and going back to work. 

You thought about that small interaction the rest of the day, it didn’t help that you now knew what she sounded like. She took over your every waking thought. You thought you would be able to control yourself better the less you knew about her because now every new detail you learned made you grow more and more desperate for her. 

Abby wasn’t much better. She would daydream about you while she was working which almost caused multiple accidents. She was dropping things, forgetting her strength and getting distracted when she needed to focus. She couldn’t get you out of her mind, she went home that night and made herself come on her own fingers, imagining your sweet little moans escaping your lips as she fucked you. She could never give into her desires though, you were too perfect, too fragile. She wasn’t good enough for you. No one was. 

She was infatuated with you from her first day on the farm. You slowly strolled by in a pale blue dress covered in pretty little ruffles and all Abby wanted to do was rip it off. She watched from afar as your skin glowed in the sunlight making you look ethereal. She couldn't help but ask the other farmhands your name, subtly trying to get them to divulge anything they knew about you. They didn't know much, you stayed far away from the farmhands for the most part. You would only watch them from afar on your walks... until Abby. She vowed to herself a while ago she would keep a distance in order to keep her job. It was easier when she could pretend you were some mythical being, too beautiful to be real. The day you asked for help was the day her restraint started to weaken as she realized you were as real as you were lovely. 

You would watch her as you usually did on your walks except now she would look back at you, flashing a sweet smile. You began passing the days desperately trying to come up with another reason to ask her for help to no avail. 

About a week passed since you last asked Abby for help when a rather large delivery came in from the tailor. You had quite a few dresses made and fitted and there were stacks of boxes that needed to be brought up to your bedroom. You silently cheered when you realized your father’s truck was missing from the driveway. When he left he would usually be gone all day, which would work out in your favor. You didn't have a particular plan in mind, but you knew it would be easier without the presence of your father looming over you. You walk out from the porch towards the field where Abby was working. She was feeding the chickens, dumping feed all around. She was covered in a sheen of sweat, her shirt softly clung to her abdominal muscles, sticky from sweat.

 “Abby!” You call out, “I need ya for a minute.” She quickly finishes feeding the birds and eagerly heads over to you. At this point you took priority over her job, although she would never admit that. 

Once she reaches you she nods and says “Lead the way, ma’am.” You smile and turn around to lead her back to the porch towards the stacks of boxes. 

“Just need help getting these up to my bedroom. They’re a bit heavy and I can’t carry them up the stairs myself.” You gesture to the pile of boxes on the porch

“You want me to come inside? In-into your bedroom? You sure? I’m all sweaty and dirty from workin' and I wouldn’t want to get your room dirty or nothing.” She sounds a little panicky and you can’t quite pin down why.

“I don’t mind.” You say quietly. 

“Al-alright,” She takes a breath “if you insist.” Abby looks down at the stacks of boxes, assessing how many trips up the stairs this was going to take. She grabs a stack of boxes and you open the screen door for her to let her inside. You walk ahead of her leading her up the stairs and into your bedroom. 

You hadn’t really had anyone in your bedroom before. It was a simple room with a queen bed against the wall, a soft white quilt adorning it. There was an old mirror in the corner of the room by the bed, the other side of the bed had a nightstand with a few candles and a stack of books. You had never felt insecure about your room until this very moment. 

“You’ve got a very nice room, miss.” Abby looks around trying to absorb any details she can. She has to suppress the thoughts that invade her mind when she sees the mirror by the bed. 

“Thank you.” You grin, genuinely appreciating the compliment.

There’s a slightly awkward pause before Abby blurts out “You read a lot?” She gestures to the stack of books by your bed.

“Yeah, I’m not allowed to do much so reading is one of my favorite ways to pass the time. Do you like readin’?” 

“I mean most of the time I’m workin’ or sleepin’, but when I was younger my mother used to read to me. I guess I like listenin’ to other people read more than actually reading myself. Haven’t been read to in years though, I guess that’s somethin’ just for little kids.” She’s clearly a nervous talker and you can’t help but adore her for it. 

“Doesn’t have to be, you just gotta find someone who’s willing to read to ya.” You smile at her before realizing the implication your sentence had. Hopefully she didn’t read too far into it.

“Yeah maybe one day.” She smiles at you and then sets the boxes down as you sit on the edge of the bed. You sigh in relief, thankful you didn’t scare her with your nervous rambling. She turns to head back downstairs to grab the rest of the boxes. As soon as she leaves the room you rush over to the mirror. You adjust your dress and check your hair, suddenly very aware of your appearance. You envied Abby in the sense that she looked beautiful even covered with dirt and sweat. You felt like you had to put in a mighty amount of effort just to appeal to other people. Once you hear Abby’s footsteps echoing up the stairs you rush back to the edge of the bed. She walks in and gently puts the last stack of boxes down. 

“Need anything else miss?” You look around trying to think of something, anything to keep her here. You’re about to give up and dismiss her when a devilish idea pops into your head. 

You smile sweetly at her as you say, “Actually, I need some help trying these on." You nod towards the boxes, "I can’t quite reach the zippers, plus I could use your opinion on some of ‘em.” It was quite the risky ask, but you were growing desperate. A slight ache had grown between your legs as you watched her carry the boxes up the stairs. Her tank top wasn't helping anything either, it perfectly displayed her incredible biceps and clung to her sweaty body, exposing the outline of her muscles.

Abby is visibly taken aback “I’m not sure I’m the best person you could ask for this miss. I’m not exactly a very fashionable person, and I-I’m pretty sure I’m not allowed in your room in the first place. I don’t want to make your father angry or nothing.” She laughs a little as she rubs the back of her neck. If she was being honest with herself Abby wasn’t sure if she’d be able to handle watching you take off your dress without giving into her desire, and she was beginning to panic. She couldn’t say no to you either.

“Don’t be silly,” You giggle a little at how flustered she is. “He isn’t even home, and all you have to do is tell me what looks good and what doesn’t. It’s easy.” You look over Abby’s shoulder and realize the door is wide open. “Just go close the door for me so no one walks in on us.” You unzip your dress and slowly remove the straps from your shoulders right as Abby turns around to close the door. Your dress was on the floor by the time she turned back to face you. 

Abby turns away immediately when she realizes your dress is gone. You can’t help but giggle when you realize how much you startled her. 

“Why are you turnin’ away?” you ask, half teasing her.

“Well..uh..uhm.” She takes a breath trying to compose herself. “You-you’re indecent miss, I can’t exactly look at you right now.” Abby meant it more in the sense she can’t look at you without giving into the desire to throw you onto the bed and rip off your pretty undergarments. She also meant it in a sort of proper way because if anyone deserved that kind of respect it was you. 

“You can look.” you reassure her.

“Are you sure miss? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or disrespect you in any way.” She sounded so cute when she was nervous.

“Well if you can’t look at me, how exactly do you intend to help me with these dresses?” You can’t help but tease her, she made it too fun. You liked making her stutter.

“Um… I suppose you're right, miss.” She turns to face you, slowly. She looks you up and down with wide eyes, she’s stiff as a board. A brief silence goes by while you allow her to collect herself. 

“Well… pick something out of those boxes for me, any one you want.” Abby turns to the box closest to her feet, kneels down and opens it up. She pulls out a blue dress, similar to the one you would wear on your walks from time to time. 

“I-I like this one, blue looks pretty on you.” She looks at the dress pretending to study it, but it was just an excuse not to have to look at you in your bra. “I mean everything looks pretty on you, it’s just the first time I saw you, you were wearing blue so I started to like it when you would wear it because it would remind me-” 

“You think I’m pretty?” You cut her off since you had guessed she would have kept talking if you didn’t. 

She stutters out a response, “Well.. yes I-” 

“You know, you’re awfully pretty yourself.” You walk towards her looking up at her through your lashes and grab the dress from her. 

She laughs “Haven’t had many people call me pretty before, don’t think I really fit into the word, but thank you.” As she’s talking you slip on the dress and turn around, inviting her to zip it up for you. 

You laugh and reply, “You’re welcome.” Once you're zipped up you walk over to the mirror to see how it looks. “What do you think?” You had to admit the dress fit you immaculately. It hugged you in just the right places and the color was beautiful. 

“You-you look beautiful, it’s a-a beautiful dress miss.” She sounds a little breathless which caught you by surprise. 

“You really like it?” you asked, turning to her. 

“Yes, yes it looks very, very…” she takes a little breath, to compose herself “good on you miss.”

“I like it too.” You walk back over to her and turn around. “Gonna try another one then, since we’re keepin’ this one.” Abby starts unzipping you painfully slowly, trying to be as gentle as possible. You feel her knuckle glide down your back through the fabric of your dress and you’re not sure how much more you can take. You let the dress fall to your feet, turn back around and step even closer to her. 

Abby isn’t sure what to do, so she just takes a step back and says, “I-I’ll get you another dress to try on.” 

“You don’t think I look good just like this?” Gesturing to your bra and lacy panties. You were crossing a line, but you were hoping that you were right in the assumption that her nervousness was due to her attraction to you and not due to her just being plain scared of you. 

“Y-yes you look beautiful, bu-” She huffs a little “I-I thought you wanted to keep tryin’ on dresses. Don’t you have to get dressed for something like a walk or-” 

“Nope, I got nothin’ to do today.” 

“You don’t want to at least get into a nightgown or something because I-” You take a step even closer to her, you’re so close you could count every freckle that dotted her face. She cuts herself off, breathing out a hushed, “Hi.” not sure what else to say. Having you so close to her caused her to not be able to think straight. 

You could see the slight panic in her eyes, but there was something else: a desire. You couldn’t take it anymore, you lifted up onto your tip-toes and kissed her softly. She lets out a little squeak of surprise before melting into you. She gently held your jaw as you continued kissing her and you let out a hum of satisfaction. She pulls away quickly and you involuntarily let you a quiet whine.

“Wait-wait we shouldn’t do this.” her voice is barely a whisper. “I-I can’t lose my job and this could make your father mad. It’s not that I don’t want to.. I really really want to, but we both know I’m not good enough for you. You’re-” You cut her off kissing her again and she lets out a soft little moan in response. You start making your way to her jaw, lightly kissing a trail down her neck. “God,” she says trying to catch her breath, “you’re really not making this easy.” 

You start gently sucking and nipping her neck and she lets the tiniest moan slip from her lips. This only encourages you as you move back up to her lips, this time using your tongue to open up her mouth and she groans. You use her chest for support as you lean into her, trying to get as close to her as possible. She pulls away slightly “I can’t do this, I-” She sighs “I won’t be able to control myself, and I don’t wanna hurt you.” You just smile a little and kiss her again, harder this time, hoping it will finally convince her to give in. She whimpers into your mouth and kisses you back, she uses her tongue to massage yours and you moan at the sensation. 

“Bed,” she says between kisses, “please.” You move away from her and make your way over to the bed sitting down on the edge. “Lay down in the middle.” Her voice took on a new, more demanding tone causing the ache between your legs to grow painful. You did as she said and she climbed on top of you, putting her arms on either side of you, careful not to crush you. You looked up at her and realized she was looking at you like a meal. Your lips parted in surprise, and Abby took this as an invitation to kiss you again, roughly massaging her tongue against yours. She moved from your mouth to your neck. She started gently kissing her way down, you let out a little whine when she started sucking at the soft skin letting her teeth gently graze it. 

“God, you're so soft,” she breathes into your neck, “It’s driving me crazy.” She moves down to your clavicle gently kissing along it towards your shoulder.  “Can I go lower, miss?” She asks with a yearning that causes your breathing to grow heavier. You eagerly nod giving her permission. “I need to hear you say ‘yes’, miss.” 

“Yes, yes.” You reply, desperate. She moves to kneel in between your legs and starts kissing between your breasts and down your stomach. She makes a trail with her lips across your hips  and hovers her mouth over your panties. 

“Can I?” You can feel her breath on your sensitive clit through the fabric of your underwear and the small sensation is driving you wild.

“Please.” You manage to whimper out. Abby pulls your panties to the side and places a little kiss right on your clit before she starts licking at your sensitive bud causing you to let out a surprised squeak. You lace your fingers into her blonde hair, completely overwhelmed by the feeling of her rough tongue on your cunt. She teases your clit with her tongue, moving around it in circles. She lets out little satisfied moans whenever your hips buck up into her mouth. Suddenly she starts sucking hard on your sensitive bud and you moan loudly, “Feels so good Abs, don’t stop.” She looks up at you watching your face contort with pleasure and she starts grinding onto the mattress desperate for any relief. She could come just from watching you like this. 

“You’re so perfect, miss.” She groans against your cunt, the vibrations causing the pressure in your belly to build. 

“Wait.” You breathe out.

“What? What’s wrong, do you want me to stop? We can stop.” Abby starts to pull away, but you grab her hands and hold her in place.

“No, nothing’s wrong I just- I wanted to try something.” you reassure her.

“Oh…o-okay..” Abby rises up from between your legs and looks at you with a mix of confusion and curiosity. 

“Would you be okay with that?” you ask.

“Of course, miss, I'll do whatever you want me to do.” You nod, get up and crawl over to open the drawer in your nightstand. You grab what looks like a wad of towels and unwrap it revealing a double sided strap and harness. You turn to Abby with it in hand and her eyes grow wide.  

“You want me to-” She takes a breath, still staring at it, “to wear that?” You nod eagerly and hand it to her. “I’m not sure, miss, I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself with that and I wouldn’t want to hurt you or accidentally be too rough with you and I-” she pauses “I really, really want to, I just don’t want to hurt you.” She looks up at you apologetically.

 “You can be as rough as you need to be, I’m not worried about you breakin’ me, not as fragile as I look.” You shoot a small smile at her, it was cute how worried she is, it’s sweet how she doesn’t want to hurt you, but you really wouldn’t mind that much. 

Abby’s eyebrows raise in surprise but she nods and says “Al-alright, I suppose I should get these off then.” gesturing to her pants. She stands up and begins unbuckling her belt eagerly. She lets her pants and underwear fall to the floor and within seconds the shirt’s gone too, leaving her in a sport’s bra. You couldn’t stop your jaw from dropping at the sight of her strong figure. You never really got to see her thighs because she was always wearing them stupid baggy pants, but they were so muscular and strong. The thought of grinding against them invades your mind causing you to clench around nothing. 

“See something ya like?” Abby smirks at you, clearly aware of her impressive physique. Now it was your turn to be flustered. 

“I-I.. yes. You- you’re so beautiful.” You look down at the white quilt, briefly to compose yourself before looking back up at her. Abby blushes a bit and smiles at you before she grabs the strap from the bed, she lets out the smallest moan as she pulls it on, the strap easily sinking into her. 

“Feels…feels real good.” She gasps out as she adjusts the harness. The sight of Abby like that had you dripping down your thighs, you were starting to grow impatient. 

“Get on your hands and knees for me baby, face the mirror.” You do as she says and she crawls back into the bed behind you. She kneels and rests her hands on your hips, smoothing them up and down. “Gonna use my fingers first, wanna make sure you’re nice and ready for me.” She takes her finger and swipes it up your slit gathering the wetness that had pooled there and starts teasing you entrance before sinking her large digit into your cunt. She gasps at how easily her finger slides into you, causing her to clench around the strap. She starts moving her finger in and out of your entrance slowly. She leans down, her mouth settling right next to your ear and whispers “You’re gonna watch me fuck you in that mirror.” You look up from the quilt and glance in the mirror. "Don't look away or I'll stop." She easily adds a second finger as you observe the way Abby is leaned over your naked body staring at you intently through the mirror. You whimper at the sight, tightening around her fingers. She leans to back away from your ear and starts kissing a trail down your spine. Her lips are so soft and the gentleness of the action paired with her roughly fucking you with her fingers was driving you insane. You begin letting out little moans every time her fingers pump into you. 

“You think you’re ready for me?” 

“Y-yes please.” you whimper, you would almost be embarrassed with how desperate you sounded, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. She pulls her fingers out of your soaking cunt and sucks them clean. She runs her hands gently down from your hips to your thighs. 

“Gonna go nice and slow, alright? Just tell me if you need to stop.” She guides the strap to your wet entrance and slowly starts sinking in. Your muscles stretch and contract around the thick strap and you loudly whimper at the feeling. Abby starts making small sounds, clearly trying to hold herself back. She sinks all the way in and you both let out loud moans, she could feel the other side of the strap sinking deeper into her. 

“You ok? I won’t move until you say.” Her voice is slightly pitched, she can barely manage to speak through the intense pleasure. Abby could barely contain herself. 

“I-I’m ok, you can move.” Abby lets out a large sigh of relief and begins slowly moving her hips. You watch her face through the mirror as she lets out little gasps and moans as she fucks you. She starts moving a little faster when she meets you eyes in the mirror, propelled by the sight of you watching her. 

“F-feels so good.” She breathes out. “Not sure I can hold myself back for much longer, baby.”

You can barely get out the words, “D-don’t I can take it.”

“A-alright, whatever you say miss.” She stops for a moment to grab your hips and adjust herself. A loud whimper escapes from your lips when she starts pounding into you. Hard. She’s hitting that perfect spot inside of you and you swear you start to see stars. Every time you try and take a breath a the air is fucked out of you. Abby can’t hold back her moans any longer, they loudly echo through the room along with your own. Her moaning somehow makes everything better, the fact that she can’t even begin to try and control herself has you clenching around the silicone dick.  

“God, this feel-feels so much better than I thought it would.” She says between moans. 

“F-fuck Abby, feels s-so good.” You whimper out, you start to let your head drop, starting to lose the strength. 

“K-keep looking in the mirror, want you to watch me fuck you.” You muster up the strength to pick your head back up, watching as Abby pounded into you. 

“Oh god.” Abby whimpers, further losing her composure as you obey what she says. She keeps fucking you at a rapid pace and you can’t even control the noises pouring out of you anymore. The both of your moans echo through the room, along with the sound of Abby fucking you. You were in Heaven. 

“Abs I- fuck!” You’re not even sure what you were trying to say, but she seemed to understand.

“I know baby, feels too good, feels- oh fuck.” Abby is starting to lose control, she’s getting too close too fast. “I need to slow down baby, or I’m gonna come.” You whine a bit as she slows down her pace. You grind back into her, trying to get some relief, but after a few seconds Abby speeds back up again. 

“Feels too good to be going slow, I-I can’t do it.” You let your head drop again, but Abby won’t have it, “Look at me, look at me through that mirror baby.” You can barely manage to hold your head up, but you do what she says. She notices that you’re starting to weaken so she wraps her hands around your stomach to pull you up so you're kneeling in front of her. She uses one arm to hold you against her as she continues to guide the strap in and out of you, her warm strong body supporting you through it all. “Keep watching the mirror baby,” she gasps into your ear, “fuck, feels so good.” 

You feel the pressure in your belly building, right when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore Abby moves her other hand down to tease your clit. She moves it in slow circles and you loudly moan her name, overcome with pleasure. 

“You gonna come baby?” Abby asks quietly in your ear. Your eyes start to close, your pleasure starting to reach an almost unbearable peak. “Keep your eyes open and watch that mirror, baby and maybe I’ll let you come.” She holds you tighter against her, her strong arm holding you in place as she somehow fucked you harder. 

“Please, please I need to-” You cut yourself off with a moan, trying to hold your climax back. 

“I’m almost there, miss, just a little-” Abby grunts, “l-little longer, you can take it, can’t you?.” Her moans start to build, she’s getting painfully close, she wants to make this last as long as possible, but she won't be able to make it much longer. She moves her fingers on your clit faster. “F-fuck, come for me baby, p-please miss.” At her words you let go, your moans echo through the room harmonizing with her wild grunts, both of you reaching your high at the same time. She keeps moving the strap in and out of you, fucking you through it. 

Eventually you start to come down and she has reduced you to a puddle of jelly. You could barely hold yourself up, relying completely on her arms to keep you upright. She lays you down on the bed gently and removes the strap, throwing it on the ground. She lays down next to you and pulls you practically limp body to lay on top of hers, resting your head on her chest and letting your legs intertwine. You can hear her heartbeat and she’s so, so warm. You wanted to say something, but you physically couldn’t, you were gonna need a bit to recover. 

Surprisingly Abby breaks the silence, softly whispering “Thank you miss.” At that you promptly fall asleep to the sound of her steady breathing. 

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happy pride month to my gals and my non-binary pals🌈! comments and notes are always appreciated. remember if you liked this go visit Jupiter X's page and check out the audio!!!! I love each and every one of you, I'm going to be posting more because of pride month and because y'all deserve it.

#abby anderson #the last of us 2 #the last of us #abby x you #abby x reader #abby x fem!reader #abby tlou #abby the last of us #southern au #abby anderson smut #abby anderson the last of us 2 #spicy audio #go show Jupiter X some love!! #abby anderson audio

[isaut]

𝒎𝒂𝒏! 𝒊 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏— beidou x fem!reader. 5.8k. ao3.

part one of 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆. (a southern au)

you know how it goes, right? tired from working all week but you don't want to sleep? shot of tequila? beer on tap? sweet southern woman sat on your lap? reader has nipple piercings and breasts, alcohol consumption, spitting, face sitting minors & blank blogs dni

The rumble of a truck on gravel alerts you to Beidou’s presence before any knock at the door does. The familiar sound pokes through the music playing, and you don’t bat an eyelash as you help yourself to a bit more hairspray over your rollers. 

Just as familiar, Beidou lets herself into your home. There’s a little ding on the security feature that she installed, ringing through the house to alert you of the door opening. Still in her work boots, Beidou doesn’t go further than the mud room. It’s a small space, filled with discarded rain boots, reusable shopping bags and a few piles of spam mail. 

“Hey, pretty lady!” Beidou calls out, “I’m here to rob ‘ya!” 

There’s a clamber down the hall as you rush to poke your head out your bedroom door. Dressed, but with your curlers still in and mascara in your hand. You lean over the banister, smiling at the sight of your girlfriend. 

“Well, all the stuff worth takin’ is up here,” You respond, giving her a cheeky smile. “I’m not quite ready yet, so you’ve gotta come up.” 

Beidou glances down at her boots, before back up at you and your expectant gaze. Before she can protest, you’ve disappeared back into your room. Left with no choice, Beidou toes off her work boots and climbs the stairs up to your bedroom.

Your room isn’t as messy as Beidou was expecting. Folded clothes sit stacked on your bed, music plays from your radio, and the window shades are open. 

“I didn’t know you we’re gettin’ all dolled up, I would’ve swung home to return the favor,” There’s a slight frown on Beidou’s face that doesn’t reach her voice. “Thought we were just gettin’ beers.” 

“We are,” You say, “I’m just getting ready. I’ll be done soon, two seconds.”

“Two seconds?” Skepticism is clear on her crooked smile. She drapes her arms around you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. Her attention gets lost on your looks in the vanity mirror and she wistfully sighs. She swoons. “You’re so pretty.”

You smile as you apply the rest of your mascara. “Okay, handsome. You want some?” 

“Ask again when you’re putting on your lips,” Beidou hums. 

Grinning, you cap your mascara and pull out your lip balm, applying far too much to your lips. Tilting your head back, you part your lips for a kiss. Beidou happily indulges, slotting her lips against your overly oiled, watermelon-flavored ones. 

“What a treat,” Beidou hums, pulling away to rub her lips together, smoothing the balm across her chapped lips. “That’s tasty, baby. What is it?” 

She reaches over to pick up the pot and reads the label, unscrewing it again to smell the product. 

“Lip balm,” You say, “Do you want some more?” 

“I’ll just kiss ‘ya if I need some more,” Beidou grins. 

You laugh, all giggly and pink. 

Beidou swoops to kiss your cheek, and pats your hip. “You ready to get goin?’”

You nod and pop your lips one last time. Beidou offers you a hand to help you up from your vanity. 

“You need to borrow some boots, baby?” You ask, glancing down at her mismatched socks. 

Beidou follows your gaze, then looks towards the direction you’re headed— Your closet. 

“I don’t know, that’s a dangerous game with you.”

“Trust me a little, at least,” You say, pulling on your own boots before finding a much more comfortable pair for your girl. You offer them to Beidou. 

Beidou concedes. She follows you out of the house, opening the doors and helping you into her truck. Her hands linger on your hips. 

The bar you frequent is a rowdy place after 10. The work week drags and it comes to its end in the dingy lights and vinyl seating. Despite the summer days, the sun has long since set. Beidou opens the door for you, and throws an arm around your shoulders to take in the atmosphere. The bartender waves at the two of you, recognizing his regulars. 

“I think some of my coworkers are gonna be here tonight,” Beidou says, all while returning the casual wave. She can’t help but flit her gaze down, over your shoulder, to catch a peek down your shirt. “Wanna sit at the bar or in a booth?” 

“Booth,” You hum, ignoring her wandering gaze. Instead, you vy for her personal, uninterrupted time. When does she not run into someone she knows or works with? 

The worn vinyl crinkles under Beidou as she sits. Before you can take the seat opposite her, she takes hold of your hand and tugs you into the booth next to her. Slinging her arm around your shoulders, Beidou pulls you close to plant a large kiss on your temple. 

“Don’t want you too far away. I’ll miss ya,” Beidou hums. Her hold on your waist, on your hip, is warming through its comfort. 

You slide your arm around Beiou’s shoulders, placing a kiss to her cheek as a return for the previous. “I can’t go too far from you anyways.” 

“Nah?” Beidou asks, raising her eyebrow, eye lighting up. “I wouldn’t—” 

Whatever overconfident comment is cut off by two beers being placed before both of y’all. A dark one with a cream foam for Beidou, and a lighter, bubblier version for you. 

“Are we eatin’ tonight?” The waitress asked. 

“Shit, yeah we are,” Beidou spoke quickly, almost startled by the routine visit. Nearly every Friday is like this. “I’m gonna do the burger and fries, with honey mustard and everything on it, babe, you want tenders and onion rings?” 

“Mhm,” You hum in agreement. “With barbecue sauce on the side, please.” 

The waitress bounces away with the familiar orders. Beidou turns her attentive gaze back to you, raising her beer. 

“Cheers, baby. To us,” Beidou says. You flash her a smile, and return the clink. 

After taking your respective sips, you sigh and go in for another. “I’m so glad the week is over.” 

“Me too,” Beidou says. “Felt like it would never end, huh?” 

“Mhm,” You hum in agreement, taking a long drink from your beer, a bit of the foam resting on your top lip. “I’m starving.” 

As the night progresses, the lights in the bar seem to dim. The music crescendos and plateaus at a comfortable loudness. With your meals finished, you flash Beidou a rather... rowdy look. 

“Wanna dance with me?” You drawl, sliding out of the booth. 

“Wanna do a tequila shot first?” Beidou responds, a cocky smile pulling at her lips. “I’m not feelin’ a thing with all this food restin’ in here.” She places a hand on her stomach. 

Biting your bottom lip, you cast a glance over at the bar, then back to Beidou. Her gaze has dropped down to your lip, and doesn’t move back to your eyes until you begin speaking again. 

“What?” You ask, grinning. “You tryin’ to get me drunk?” 

“Just enough to wash away the stage fright. Nothin’ more than you want, scout’s honor.” 

You squint at her for a moment, before shrugging. “Alright. You’ve convinced me.” 

“My charm?” Beidou asks, grinning widely. 

“I mean, in Dungeons and Dragons, looks are included in charisma. Don’t let it get to your head.” 

Too late. Beidou tightens her arm over your shoulders, pulling you in for a kiss. You press a hand to her chest, gently easing her back. 

“C’mon, we’re in public. You can’t shove your tongue down my throat right now,” You admonish her. 

“You’re just so hot,” Beidou declares, “Lookin’ all pretty with your nerdy shit. Bein’ my girl. Can’t get enough of it.”

Your scoff at the cheesy compliment is cut off as Beidou’s eye comically widens at the familiar chords to her favorite song. She pats your hip and squeezes before continuing her pats. “C’mon, c’mon baby. Dancefloor. Shots after.” 

There’s not much choice for you, not when Beidou scoots you out of the booth and stands pressed right up against your back. Her hand is tight in yours, and she starts to head off towards the rapidly filling floor. 

“Why don’t I get us drinks, and I’ll meet you out there?” You suggest. 

“It’s not as fun,” Beidou pouts, sticking out her bottom lip, “C’mon, c’mon.” 

Before you can tease her about begging for it, you’ve been swept off towards the source of the rowdiness. Beidou plants a wet kiss against your cheek, pulling away with a big old smile. 

You’ve done this dance with Beidou more times than you can count. It’s easy, all things said and done. When you’re in front of her, Beidou likes to put her hands on your hips, moving with you and missing a few more steps than she’d like. Better to miss a few steps if it means she can have her hands on you. 

When you can hear the song coming to a close, you begin to pull away from the dance floor, taking one of Beidou’s hands in yours. Her fingers intertwined with yours, squeezing once. 

The two of you stumble towards the bar, and before you realize it, Beidou has leaned herself over the bar and is pointing to a bottle on the wall. Two filled shot glasses are placed in Beidou’s hand and she offers you one. 

“Just one for me, baby. Wanna be able to take you home,” Beidou promises, clinking her plastic shot glass against yours before tipping the drink back. ‘Drink,’ used loosely. 

Hours that don’t seem like hours pass in a blur of vintage lighting mixed with antique neon signage, flavored with cheap beer that you accept all too happily. Beidou keeps her arm slung around you as she inevitably runs into her coworkers and accepts another drink with them. 

Beidou is mid conversation when you plant a kiss to her cheek and slink away to rejoin the dance floor. What can be said? You’re a simple woman. You don’t mind Beidou’s coworkers, but she sees them all week. You only go dancing once a week. 

As she feels you slip away, she quickly looks at her coworkers and gives them a grin, before downing the rest of her beer. “I’ll be back, gentlemen. Or, I’ll see y’all on Monday.” 

Beidou turns on her heel and meets your lidded gaze. A chorus of wolf whistles, wishing her well in her easy efforts to get lucky echo behind her. She smiles as she cuts across the hardwood floors towards you. There are only a few people following the line dance, too inebriated to follow along. 

“Sorry about that, pretty lady,” Beidou says, loud enough to be heard over the music, but only for your ears. Instinctively, your arms wrap around her neck. “Wanna get out of here?” 

At your hum of protest, Beidou tacks on, “We can always dance back at your place.” 

“I... I don’t know if we’ll get much dancin’ done there,” You reply, gently sliding your finger over the shell of Beidou’s ear, tilting your head to the side. 

“Hey now,” Beidou grins, pulling you in close by your waist. “You never know if we don’t try. There’s more kinds of dancin’ than just the vertical type. C’mon, let’s get out of here.” 

You laugh at the silly innuendo. It takes no more pleading for Beidou to lure you out of the bar.  Hot on her heels, your hand in hers and your purse slung over her shoulder. Your boots bump against each other as you attempt to sidestep a loose pebble. 

The side of her truck is cool in the summer night. Beidou presses you up against it before she has the mind to open the door for you, and slides her lips against yours. Her tongue slides along your lower lip, just for a moment before she gives a nip and then pulls away. Your chest heaves against hers, taken aback by the sudden kiss. 

“Sorry, I couldn’t wait,” Beidou explains, as if you’d have any objections. As if her desire wasn’t clear, written across her eyes and her movements. She helps you up into the cab of her truck, then hands you your purse. Lifting herself onto the footledge, she leans over and gives you another, quick peck before closing the door. 

The truck rumbles to life once she turns the key in the ignition. Music automatically begins to hum out of the radio, which Beidou turns down as she buckles up. 

“Your place?” She asks. 

“Not going to even offer yours up?” You reply, raising an eyebrow. 

Beidou laughs and places her hand on the back of your headrest. “C’mon, we both know the answer to that. You’ve got all the nice shit at home.” 

Giggling, you take Beidou’s hand in yours and give her fingertips a kiss. She twists her hand in yours to squeeze your cheeks together before resting her hand on your thigh. It’s a quick drive, from the bar to your home. Beidou kneads the thick of your thigh to pass the time, only lifting her hand when the steering dictates. 

She makes a great show of backing up into the driveway— Hand back on your headrest, looking behind her even though you’ve seen her do it with minimal effort before. The palm of her hand slides along the leather of the wheel, until she’s comfortably in the driveway of your home, illuminated by the yellow front light that moths flicker to. 

The crickets chirp in the night, filling the silence with a comforting white noise. Beidou helps you out of the truck’s cab, innocently enough. It’s two steps after the door shuts closed that Beidou sheds that chivalry. 

She presses you back up against the back of the truck, lips back on yours. Your hands fly for her hair, a gasp lost on your lips and swallowed down by hers. Her knee finds purchase between your thighs, denim pressing against the cotton of your skirt, pressing up against your core that suddenly pounds with attention. 

Her hands are always wandering, always searching. They hike up your skirt, all the way up to your hips. 

“B-Bei, people will see,” You whimper.

“Don’t care, need to taste you,” Beidou murmurs against your lips, hand sliding over your newly exposed skin, groaning into the kiss. 

“We’re so close to being inside,” You manage to say once you pull yourself away from the heated kiss. “So close, baby.” 

Beidou whines, in the back of her throat, pressing her forehead against yours. “Fine. Fuck. Fine.” 

It’s with reluctance that Beidou pulls away, and she trails behind you like a puppy both excited for what comes next and with her tail between her legs for getting scolded. 

Once up the stairs, Beidou is back on you. Hands in your hair, pulling you close to the point your lips are all but smashed against each other. There’s barely enough time for you to wrap your arms around her neck before she’s releasing your face and reaching for your thighs, lifting you up in an easy swoop. 

You grin against her lips, stomach flipping. It’s ridiculous, there’s the shortest walk to your bedroom that she’s insistant on stumbling through as long as you’re in her arms. When your back presses against the closed door, you fumble to press down on the golden handle, the door swinging open. 

“Wanna shower, hot stuff?” Beidou asks, sliding you down to the ground. Your socks hit the carpet gently, and you cast a glance over to your cracked bathroom door. 

“Am I going to get company?” You inquire, unable to help yourself as you comically bat your eyelashes at her. 

Beidou swoons, lips parted and brow furrowed. “Of course you are. I would never, ever miss out on a chance to see you wet ‘n naked. If I do, you better call someone cause I’ve been bodysnatched.” 

You laugh at that, standing on your toes to press another kiss to Beidou’s lips. “I’ll be sure of it.” 

One thing about Beidou is that she is made of legs and breasts. Toned muscles course under her skin, unevenly tanned from her work that takes her out into the brutal sunshine. The water illuminates it all, sliding down the curve of her spine; taking a few tendrils of hair that trickle down Beidou’s neck, that weren’t able to be caught up in the claw clip she sports.

She’s left her eye covering on your bathroom countertop, to be washed with your delicates when you do your Sunday load. It’s a new thing, that she takes it off to shower with you, that she takes it off to sleep. 

With soap on her hands instead of a washcloth, it’s rather obvious that Beidou is not there to help clean the bar from your body. Instead, her soapy hands slide over the expanse of your skin, resting on your shoulders to gently turn you around. She slides her hands across your chest, nipples sliding through the gaps between your fingers. 

Between your legs, your pussy throbs. Beidou’s thumbs flip one of the sensitive buds before she makes another grab for your breasts, squeezing delightfully, then continuing her cleaning— Down your stomach, up from the dimples on your back to the nape of your neck, down again, this time to the soft skin between your thighs, the backs of them, the crease where your thighs meet your rear. 

“Beidou,” You insist, huffing over your shoulder. 

All you get is a grin on Beidou’s face, apparent through her voice. “[First].” 

“Aren’t we getting clean to be in bed?” You ask. 

“I’m young, let me have my fun,” Beidou hums, continuing her passes, applying more soap as needed. The last stop her fingers make is between your thighs. Where she swipes her fingers through your slick, grins at you expectantly. “Can’t wait?” 

“No, I can’t, actually,” You say. Each pass of your hand causes her to flex the muscle that rests beneath. First it’s her pectorals, then it’s her abs, then her shoulders, her biceps. You discard the washcloth in favor of your fingers, swiping your hand so Beidou’s nipple catches between the rifts of your fingers. 

Her stomach twitches, soft tummy involuntarily moving with a delicate hitch of her breath. 

You gaze up at her though your lashes, batting them once, innocently, before lowering your mouth. 

The remnants of soap linger around her nipples, as you lave your tongue over one and knead the other with your hand. Beidou takes a step backwards, to rest against the cool tile of the shower. Her chest heaves as she takes a deep breath of steamy air, trying to steady herself. 

“Babe, come on,” Beiodu breathes, despite her eyes sliping shut and her hand resting on the back of your neck. 

You hum, twirling your tongue around her nipple before pulling away with a lewd pop! 

“Sorry,” You whisper, “I couldn’t wait.” 

Beidou huffs at that, screwing her eyes shut at having her own words thrown back at her. Collecting herself, Beidou takes a few moments before patting you on the shoulder and nodding to herself.

“Okay, showertime over. Time to be in bed.” 

There’s barely enough time for lotion, with the way Beidou is trying to corral you up against your pillows. Spread you out over the duvet, her hands worming their way up the back of your thighs.  She presses them between your bodies, knees over her shoulders, pussies lightly grazing against each other. 

Beidou settles on her knees, capturing your lips in hers. Her body rolls against yours, one of her hands moving for yours, intertwining your fingers together. 

“I miss you when I don’t see you,” Beidou admits, pressing down for another kiss. 

You hum into it. “I miss you too.” 

“Miss you so much,” Beidou whispers. “You don’t understand.” 

Beidou pulls back, just enough to trail her gaze across your face. Her thumb gently pulls your bottom lip down, then swipes over your cheekbone. 

The doting attention sets a sense of unease in your stomach. Not from the attention, but the sudden sincerity. 

You mimic Beidou’s hands, cupping her face and swiping your thumbs along her cheekbones. “Did something happen at work today, baby?” 

Beidou shakes her head and gives you a smile. “No, nothin’ happened. I just… Just got hit with how much I love you.” 

You pout up at her, “I love you too, baby.” 

Beidou nods to herself before leaning back down to kiss you again. “So much, sweetheart.” A nervous laugh, “Sorry, didn’t mean to ruin the mood.” 

“You’re just being sentimental,” You murmur, “There’s no need to apologize.”

Beidou nods once more before pulling away and sitting back on her calves. Her hands rub up and down your thighs, before patting the side of one. 

“Here, get comfy, dollface. Grab me a pillow for your hips,” Beidou encourages. 

You’re quick to oblige, shuffling back on the bed and plucking one of the pillows from the made bed. “Go put my clothes on the dresser and grab some lube while you're at it.” 

Beidou plucks up the leaning tower of clothes and places them on the dresser. “Baby, I really just want to taste you.” 

Your stomach flips at that. The bed dips under Beidou’s knees as she settles back onto the bed and takes the pillow from you to place under your hips. She reaches over you, for the scrunchie that rests on your nightstand. Her words make a pitstop millimeters from your face. “That okay with you, dollface?” 

Swallowing, you give her a little nod. “Yeah.” 

“Perfect.” Beidou leans down and catches your lips in hers for a brief peck before sitting back again to tie her hair up. While her fingers are quick with her brown locks, there’s a quiet strength that runs through her arms, over biceps and tendons that allude to the strength she has to possess during her daytime job. 

The descent Beidou makes down your body is one that she’s made a thousand times but will never tire of. A kiss to each mole, to each kiss she’s left in a past life. You watch with rapt attention, leaning up on your elbows to watch. 

Beiodu makes eye contact with you, throwing you a cheeky grin before her lips latch around one of your nipples. Her tongue swirls around the hardened bud, letting the silver of the piercing click against her teeth. Involuntarily, it causes your legs to try and close together. Beidou drops a hand to your thigh to steady you, using her second hand to touch your other breast. 

She stays there, alternating between each breast for almost too long. Enough to have you aching and whining and impatient. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Beidou says, smiling against your stomach as she nips at your skin. “I got distracted. You’ve got no room to talk.”

And she’s right. You have no room to talk. If it was up to you, you would spend hours between Beidou’s breasts with your tongue laving over her nipples and sucking hickies over the little moles on her underboob. 

But it’s not up to you. 

Instead, you're laid out under Beidou’s attentive lips, under her hands that slide up the length of your body, finding their resting place on your ribs. You’re rewarded with a restretched out Beidou, back arched and ass sloped, head down and kissing against your hips. She slides down just a bit more, hands on your tummy, and her back heaves with the weight of the breath she takes, nose pressed against your mound. 

“Beidou!” Your groan is both jokes and embarrassment, whined out through a reluctant smile. Your thighs closing around her head is only in vain, as she simply leans into one with a broad shoulder. “Stop that!” 

Beidou’s smile is clear in her voice. “Baby, baby, c’mon. S’like that incense stuff you’re into for me. Give a hard workin’ woman what she wants. You work in the sun all day?” 

And you know better than to respond to that. Giving a response would be akin to you picking up your own shovel and joining her out for a hard day’s work– Only instead of digging foundation holes with an excavator, you’d be breaking your back digging your own grave. 

“No,” You sigh, and relax your legs again. 

“That’s more like it,” Beidou hums. She settles back on her hips, gently maneuvering around your pussy to expose your clit from the little fold above her. There’s a flat lick, one that has you flopping back against the bedspread. 

Beidou pulls back, wraps an arm around your thigh and presses it back, reaching around it to resume spreading your lips with her fingers. 

Everytime Beidou finds herself between your thighs it gets better and better. Each lick is more confident; she slides her tongue through your folds and dips into your hole with precision and hunger. It’s not long before your hips are bucking up against her mouth and she’s forced to use her other hand to still your hips, pressing you against the bed. 

Excitement blitzes across her face. She pulls back, much to your disappointment. 

Beidou untangles your fingers from the duvet and guides your hand to hold back your leg, giving her a free hand to work with. She takes her free hand and brings her middle and ring finger to your lips. 

There’s no hesitation as you open your mouth, tongue pliant and waiting. Beidou leans against your mound, exhaling at the friction. Raising your eyebrows together, you lightly cant your hips up against hers, tongue trailing between her fingers. 

“Shit.” Beidou pulls her fingers from your mouth, which try to stay connected with a long string of saliva. She slides the slick fingers between your folds, before gently pressing a finger into you. 

Your mouth opens and a gentle, “Oh,” leaves your lips, eyes closing at the sensation. 

Beidou gives a few careful pumps of her hand before adding the second finger, relishing in the lewd schlick sounds that come from the wet mess. 

“Never get tired of that,” Beidou promises, leaning forward to capture your cute pout in her own lips. Each practiced stroke of her fingers brings a punched out huff that she eagerly swallows down. 

You bring one of your hands up to slide against the nape of her neck, fingers dipping into her hair. 

“Feels good,” you whisper against her lips. 

“Yeah?” Beidou encourages, pulling back. Your hand slides down her chest, fingers stopping to twirl around one of her nipples. “Good enough to come?” 

“I’m– I’m takin’ my time,” You admonish. 

Beidou grins at you as she lowers back to be eye level with your pussy. “Damn right you are.” 

Her lips are back on you, flitting around your clit before latching on. Her fingers rub intentional circles against your g-spot, enough to have the muscles in your legs twitching and your fingers latched to her hair.

This is her favorite— When your fingers leave her hair to curl up in the pillowcase, leaving you all stretched out and vulnerable. Your hips unable to decide where they want to go— Up, down, closer or further away from Beidou. 

Beidou grunts against your cunt when your heel presses into her back, released from your hold. Your pussy clenches around her fingers, orgasam tumbling through you. You hold her close with your legs as she helps you through your release. 

She pulls back and makes a big show of removing her fingers from you, of the wet sound they make. 

“Wanna taste?” Beidou asks, tilting her head to the side. 

You nod, eyes fluttering open as your gently part your lips for her. Instead of sliding her fingers directly in your mouth, Beidou slides the fingers in her mouth. Her eyes roll back at the salty taste before she pulls them out slowly. Covered in your juices and her spit, Beidou cups your face in her hands and gently squeezes your cheeks together, pushing your lips further apart. 

A fat ball of spit falls on your tongue, and you let out a little moan at the sensation, eyes closing once more. Beidou pulls back to watch as you swallow with a lovesick look in her eyes that nearly counteracts the lewd act. Unable to help herself, she lowers back down to capture your lips in a big kiss. 

“You are too pretty,” Beidou groans. 

“You flatter me too much,” You reply, chest still heaving. 

Beidou shakes her head. “I don’t flatter you enough.” 

There’s a few moments of silence as Beidou flattens herself half on the bed and half on you, head pressed against your chest. You rub a hand up and down her back and side, taking a sharp inhale as she decides to play with one of your nipples again. 

“Want me to–” 

“Will you sit on my face?” Beidou cuts you off, sitting back up on her elbow, hand sliding up your sternum to rest at the base of your neck. 

You blink at the sudden change in pace again. If Beidou had a tail, you’re sure you would see it wagging, thumping against the bed. 

“We can even sixty-nine, I just want to pull you against me. Get crushed. Breathe pussy.” 

You can’t help but laugh at that. “Want to show me exactly what you’re wanting?” 

Beidou nods, taking her hair out of the ponytail and shaking it out. With easy movements, she settles onto her back and pats her mouth, hand covering nose to chin. “C’mon, make yourself at home.” 

“I’m still catching my breath,” You grumble, but sit up anyways. 

Your ascent to Beidou’s mouth begins over her stomach, as you gently grind against the hard muscle that lies beneath a protective layer of soft. Beidou’s hands fly to your hips, gently urging you up further. You bite your lip as you slide your wet pussy over the softness of her breast, and grin at the way her eye widens at the sensation. 

“Do that again,” Beidou urges, gently rocking your hips back against the flesh. The angle is a bit awkward, but it works a bit, until Beidou is urging you to climb up further. 

“We’ll figure it out later,” She mumbles, getting her hair out of the way so your knees don’t pull at it while you get settled. 

Slowly, you sink onto her face. You give a few rocks, finding a balance in your knees with Beidou holding you steady at your hips. She pulls you down more, grip turning strong as you give in and place more of your weight on her. 

“I know what it feels like when you’re sitting on my face,” Beidou grumbles, and it’s enough to give in. A moan vibrates through your cunt as satisfaction zips through Beidou’s body. From this angle, Beidou sinks her tongue into you easily, eliciting a moan from both of you. 

You roll your hips in time with the messy kisses she laves against your pussy, leaning forward to grip to the headboard as another wave of pleasure begins to slosh through your veins. Beidou’s hands rove up your thighs until they rest on your ass, grabbing at it and kneading at the soft flesh. 

There’s nothing but the sounds of the bed creaking and Beidou’s lips softly smacking, the slick sounds of her tongue moving against you. The feeling of her moaning into you. 

Your body begins to curl in on itself, starting at your toes before your forehead touches the headboard. From the angle, you’re able to see Beidou work, eyes closed in pleasure as she works her tongue and nose against you. 

“B-Beidou,” You breathe, despite feeling the air being punched out of your body. 

Beidou raises her gaze up to you, blinking. She raises an eyebrow, as if to say Close? without having to stop providing for you. 

You nod. Beidou’s nose shifts against you as a little nod back, pressing up against your sensitive clit. 

The orgasam takes you by surprise. You clap a hand over your mouth, thighs tensing and tightening around Beidou’s head as you rise against her face. Beidou happily licks every drop of you into her mouth, pleased as can be. When you’re completely relaxed, arms folded on top of the headboard, cheek pressed against your forearm, Beidou gives a last few swipes with her tongue, just to make sure she didn’t leave anything behind, before patting your thigh. 

Nodding to yourself, you swing off her mindlessly. 

The two of you lay side by side, catching your breath. Beidou’s mouth and chin are wet with you, chest heaving as she breathes in the cool air of your room. 

“Feel good?” Beidou asks. 

You nod, still floating down from your orgasam. With a proud smile, Beidou leans over and presses a delicate kiss to your shoulder. You grab her hand before it can make its sneaky way over to your nipple again, and smile at the feeling of Beidou’s smile against your shoulder. Instead, you bring her hand to your lips and give a kiss to her knuckles. 

“Feel good,” You mumble. 

Beidou closes her eyes, just for a moment. Basks in the quiet of the night, of the sound of your fan and breath. Just takes a few moments, before she’s raising herself up despite your whiny protests. 

“Gonna clean us up,” Beidou explains, climbing over you to get out of bed. “No one wants to go to bed with a wet pussy.” 

Your eyes open quickly. “But I didn’t–” 

“Baby, you came on my face. What was I supposed to do? Not come?” Beidou asks, giving you a lopsided grin. 

Your jaw goes slack. You reach your hand out for her thigh, grabbing on the side of it. “Let me feel.” 

‘I’m not lying to you,” Beidou says, and her words are proven true as you slide your first two fingers between her folds, met with nothing but velvet smooth wetness. 

Bringing your fingers to your lips, you clean them off, closing your eyes halfway through. “That’s illegal.” 

Beidou grins and pats your thigh. “I’ll be right back with a washcloth.” 

You give her a little hum as she walks off towards the bathroom, fan turning on as she begins to poke around. You close your eyes shut at the monotonous, mechanic humming that is joined with the sound of water flowing. When Beidou returns, you’re half asleep but have the decency to open your eyes every few moments to catch a glimpse of your girlfriend, haloed by the bathroom light. 

“Alright, princess,” Beidou hums, placing a kiss to your forehead. “Let’s get in bed. Under the covers you go.” 

“What about you?” You mumble. 

“I’ll be right there,” Beidou promises. And she makes good on that promise. Discarding the washcloth in the bathroom, climbing up under the cover and sliding her naked body directly behind yours. 

She slides her arm under your neck and the other around your waist, hand resting on one of your breasts. 

“If I wake up before you, I’ll make us breakfast,” You mumble, resting your hand on top of hers. 

“God, I love you,” Beidou sighs into your back, following it with a kiss. 

#beidou x reader #by ophelia #slay. #library #southern au

[babblingeccentric]

One piece AU where east blue is the American south

Florida backwoods trio ASL (Brazilian Luffy, Native Ace, Ashkenazi Sabo- His family are New York Jewish Snowbirds)

Ussop is from the Mississippi Delta and keeps lying about how he made a deal with the devil at the crossroads for his sniping skills

Nami is also from Florida but a more touristy/beachy area She hustles frat bros on spring break for money

#one piece #one piece au #southern au #i guess? #asl brothers #cat burglar nami #ussop one piece #im as yankee as they get so actual southerners please weigh in #but im p confident in this #mine #not smut #My writing

[pervysenpaix]

*’| southern small town au w. you being Izuku’s paramour 💚 ; he’s known by all in town since he’s the mayor’s stepson but there isn’t one drop of arrogance in his kind heart. one of the sweetest and most hardworking people you’ve met. he helps out on your daddy’s land since he’s getting older and can’t really afford to hire a hand. wouldn’t budge when you tried to shoo him off sayin’ that he should go home and you’d take care of it. “well ma’am, i just ain’t seeing how that’s gone work” he says, taking off his hat to wipe sweat from his brow. “cause m’not leaving till this here chain is clear and if we’re both out here working then who’s gonna look pretty and bring me a glass of that world famous lemonade i love so much”? his soft chuckle does nothing to quell the heat blooming on your cheeks which worsens when he leans forward to put his hat on your head. “run along now” he winks, hopping back on his horse to finish up for the day, but not before he glances back to see you scurrying towards the kitchen in the main house.

#small town au #southern au #cowboy!deku #cowboy!izuku #izuku fluff #izuku imagine #deku fluff #deku imagine #deku x blackreader #deku x reader

[sweetest-florida-blue-peach]

Southern Roots Series:

Song: Why'd You Come In Here Lookin' Like That

Artist: Dolly Parton

Characters for Scenario: Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

{{And before y'all come at me with your pitchforks and torches, HE IS AGED UP, so stop clutching your pearls and quit looking at me like I scandalized a nun}}

Warnings: None that I can think of other than Bakugou's usual potty mouth. Part of the scenario takes place in a bar, so there are mentions of alcohol and drinking, and cigarettes. Not sure if any of these are relevant for a warning, but I'm adding them just in case. Oh, and breakup angst, because, why not?

Notes: Tried to keep the reader GN. Concept is almost entirely from Reader’s perspective, so lots of usage of the pronoun ‘you’. Bartender calls Reader “sugar, hon, darlin’,” etc. Bartender is ‘she/her’. {Bartender is my self-insert, and no, this post was not intended to be all about her, but she is integral to the underlying story}. Uses they/them pronouns when discussing Reader. If I slipped up anywhere, politely tell me, and I’ll go back and edit.

Word Count: Bruh, I ain't got the mental capacity to count right now 🤣😭

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★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

For @trashpotatoess.

Sloane, my love, my darlin', my dearest, my wonderful friend--I am so, so, SO sorry for the lateness of this, and doubly sorry if it’s absolute garbage, but I sincerely hope you enjoy your requested scenario. 💙

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

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Why'd you come in here lookin' like that? In your cowboy boots and your painted-on jeans, all decked out like a cowgirl's dream. Why'd you come in here looking like that?

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The bass of whatever song is croaking through the speakers is doing nothing to help the ache that’s been building up in your head for the last few days. Between that and the seemingly never-ending hangover, your brain was constantly pounding against your skull. 

It’s been three months. Three months of tears, anger, denial, depression, alcohol, and mornings where you struggled to get out of bed. Three months of staring at the cracked screen of your phone, hoping for a notification from him. You had thrown it at your bedroom wall in a fit of rage after he had texted you for the last time asking for his things back. One half of you wished that you’d never deleted your social media, but you did it because you were prone to stalking his account, and you were glad you did. You were downright terrified of what you might find on there. Or who you might find on there. The other half wished that he’d text again, perhaps even be so courteous as to call. Just so you could answer and tell him to go to hell before hanging up. 

Three months of this back-and-forth war with yourself was about to drive you absolutely insane, as was the thought of spending another aimless night holed up in your apartment. So you did the logical thing. You came to the only decent bar Yuuie had to offer and were drinking your sorrows away--for the eighth time this month.

As you down your second drink of the night, you stare down at the brim of your empty glass, mulling over how you found yourself here. A pair of crimson eyes, ash-blonde hair, and a devil-may-care smile flash through your mind. Sighing, you lean your elbows on the bar, bringing your fingertips up to your temples to massage them, trying to rid yourself of some of the discomfort.

The worst part about the breakup wasn’t actually the breakup itself. Sure, there was the screaming and the arguing before he eventually hopped in his truck and left you in a cloud of dust, but that wasn’t the worst part. No, the worst part was the fact that everyone knew about it almost as soon as it happened. And it’s all anyone had been gossiping about. For weeks. So even if you wanted to try and forget and move on, you couldn’t. The price and curse of living in a small town. Everyone knows everyone, and you have no kind of privacy whatsoever. You couldn’t even nurse your heartache behind closed doors because someone was always dropping by your place to “check up on you”. 

It also didn’t help that your ex was practically famous. A traveling bull rider and Yuuie rodeo champion for the last six consecutive years, he’d made quite a name for himself.

His rodeo stage name was ridiculous. 

The Great Explosion Murder God and his equally explosive steed, Dynamight. 

That was the title the papers had graced him with after his amazing win on the bull riding portion of the rodeo. No one expected him to last eight seconds on Yuuie’s most notorious bull, Samson. Samson was the bull that put more cowboys out of commission than any farm accident ever could. But your ex craved challenges just as much as he craved the sweet taste of nicotine in his favorite cigarettes. So he rode Samson. And hung on for twenty-three seconds before being flung off. He’d been the town hero ever since. 

Around rodeo season, everywhere you looked, pictures of TGEMG could be seen on every visible window, telephone poll, and building wall imaginable. But you never saw him as the golden boy of Yuuie. You saw him for who he was. A troublemaker with an explosive temper, as hotheaded and stubborn as Samson the bull. To Yuuie, he was The Great Explosion Murder God. 

But to you? He was simply Katsuki Bakugou.

Just the thought of his name caused a sour taste to build up in your mouth. Running your fingers through your already messy hair, you seriously contemplate banging your head onto the polished bar.

“Can I get you another, sugar?” A sweet voice draws you out of your thoughts. You glance up and see the bartender swiping down the counter with a wet cloth. Her dark hair is pulled back into a messy bun, with a few loose strands hanging out here and there. Light, subtle strokes of mascara cling to her lashes, accentuating the color of her eyes, two different hues of brown; the left eye a much lighter shade than the right. 

A black Jameson Irish Whiskey racerback clings to her curves, accentuating her hourglass figure. A delicate silver chain hangs around her neck, an unknown pendant playing hide-and-seek in the plunging neckline of her tank. 

She cuts her mismatched eyes to your glass. “Do you want another, or are you calling it a night?” 

Without a word, you shove it toward her. She raises a questioning brow at your actions, lips quirking up slightly, but to your surprise and thankfulness, she doesn’t say anything else. She just grabs the bottle of your favorite liquor and refills your glass for the third time. As she works, you take a moment to study her. 

She was new in town. Landed a job as a bartender. Quiet, kept to herself. A walking enigma as no one really knew anything about her. Hell, you weren’t even sure what her name was. All anyone knew was that she moved to Yuuie shortly after you and Katsuki had called it quits. But from her accent and manners, you would’ve thought she was a local. She fit in well enough, seeming to belong with the rest of you, as if she’d been here the entire time. 

Setting the glass back in front of you, she gives you a small smile. “Here you go, darlin’.”

You blink once. Twice. You then seem to realize that you still need to pay for your drink. Snapping out of your daze, you reach into your pocket to pull out your wallet. Your fingertips barely brush the stash of bills you have tucked away when the bartender shakes her head. 

“On the house, hon.”

You stare incredulously at her. She shrugs, grabbing up empty beer bottles. “You look like you need it.” 

You wince as the coolness of the glass seeps into your palms. “That obvious, huh?” 

She snorts, wiping down the counter again before throwing the towel over her shoulder. “I’m a bartender; it’s my business to be observant. Kinda part of the job description.” Brushing back the stray hairs dangling in her face, she sticks out a hand. “I’m Blue.”

This time, it’s your turn to raise a brow. “Blue? Like the color?”

An expression settles on her face as if she’s in another place, another time, but she doesn’t give you a chance to dwell on it or even ask what she’s thinking about. The look disappears almost as quickly as it came, replaced by a wistful smile. “Exactly like the color.”

“That’s not your real name is it?” You ask. Again, you lived in a small town. And small towns came with a variety of names. Some were vintage, a little older but still respectable: Beau, Imogen, Pearl, and Edmund. Others were very Southern: Cash, Oakley, Easton, Wes, and anything that ended in ‘Lynn’. And then there were the off-the-wall ones like Cooter, Gator, Coon, Younique, Texas, Amarillo, and a few others that were just plain ridiculous. All in all, Blue wasn’t too bad a name to be saddled with.

She shakes her head, a small chuckle rumbling through her. “No. It’s....a nickname. Well, one of them. Two different nicknames gifted from two very different people. Blue and Peach.”

“Peach?” The dubiousness of your tone causes her to throw her head back and laugh. 

“A long story from a lifetime ago. I got so used to them when I was younger that I sometimes wouldn’t respond to my actual name. Feel free to call me either. I’ll respond to both, but if I’m being honest, Blue is my preferred choice.” 

Stretching out your arm, you take her hand in yours, giving it a firm shake. “Well, nice to meet you then, Blue.”

Her eyes sparkle, wrapping her fingers around yours. “Likewise.”

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Even though the clock on your phone reads only a quarter past ten, the tavern was nearly jam-packed with patrons.

Several people crowd the bar. Few were playing pool or making bets on a game of darts. Others had paired off and were line-dancing on the dance floor to whatever playlist Present Mic had geared up for the evening.

Laughter bubbles in your chest as you take another shot. You were tipsy, borderline drunk, your giggles growing louder and louder, everything becoming funnier by the second. You were finally beginning to unwind and relax a little.

Okay, you had relaxed A LOT.

Blue made you hand over your keys after your fourth shot of vodka. When you tried protesting, she silenced you with a glare that nearly rivaled your mother’s.

“I’ll give you a lift when my shift ends. Until then, these,” she jangled your keys in front of your face before dropping them into a glass jar that she stashed behind the counter, “are staying with me.” 

You begrudgingly but gratefully accepted, especially as you were aware of the way Sheriff Enji Todoroki had been cracking down on drunk driving lately. You didn’t want to take any chances of getting thrown in the slammer and giving the town yet another reason to talk about you. The breakup was enough fuel to keep the fires going for a good long while.

To keep yourself from reliving the event and becoming a blubbering mess, you impulsively decided to ask Blue to tell you about herself.

She gave you a look that you couldn't quite perceive before sucking in her bottom lip and whistling to her partner.

"Neijire! I'm taking ten."

Your eyes travel in the direction of Blue's attention, landing on the bouncing figure of the other bartender. She wore nearly an identical outfit to Blue’s, but her shirt was more strategically ripped to bare more skin and bore the Jack Daniels logo instead of Jameson. She was happily putting a hefty bill into the Tip Jar, but Blue's words turned her mouth down into a pout.

"You're just now taking a break? Blue!" Neijire scolds, throwing a rag at the back of Blue's head. "You need to take your breaks as they come. Being on your feet for hours gets real exhausting real fast. I don't need you burnt out during your shifts."

Blue gives her a sarcastic salute while Neijire just rolls her eyes. She reaches across the counter, grabbing a pen, scribbling something down on a notepad. Ripping the paper cleanly off, she shoves it into Blue's hand, her golden eyes glittering in the low lights of the bar.

"Go ahead and give this to FatGum. He'll whip up something for you in the back. Take all your missed breaks and get yourself some dinner too. I don't want you back behind this counter until you've eaten something, you hear?"

“Neijire-chan! Can I get another over here, sweetheart?” One of the patrons calls, holding their glass up.

Neijire winks at you both, tucking back a curly lock of lavender-purple hair. “Welcome! What can I get y’all started with?” 

Blue limbos under the ‘employees only’ trapdoor and plops herself beside you on a cushy barstool, grinning. "What do you wanna know?"

"Anything,” you answer, slamming your shot glass down after swigging the contents. “Do you like living in Yuuie? What's your name? What's your sign? When's your birthday? Do you have any tattoos? Have you ever done anything illegal?" The questions were pouring out of you like water from a leaking spicket.

Blue laughs as she hands off her meal ticket to one of the passing waiters, setting it on top of his empty serving tray. "Thanks, Mirio!” 

The blonde bows at the waist, a thousand gigawatt smile flashing. “A pleasure, Miss Blue.” 

She waves him off, shaking her head at him and his antics before turning back to you. “This sounds more like an interrogation than a getting-to-know-you icebreaker."

"Well, it's not only me that's curious. The whole town has been abuzz about you since you got here. You're like a mystery novel with no ending."

Blue's face scrunches up in disbelief. "I'm an open book! Hit me."

“Do you have any pets?”

Her entire face lights up when you ask her that.

"Do you wanna see my cat?"

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And that’s how you found yourself about an hour later, learning everything there was to know about the elusive new bartender.

She whipped out her phone, showing you pictures of a tiny white kitten with a splotched black tail and scattered salt and pepper patches on her face and back. For reasons unbeknownst to you, she named it Queso Mozzarella but lovingly calls her 'Mozzy' for short. Your heart squeezed at the absolute adorableness.

After Blue put her phone away, she began to tell you about herself, bit by bit. Almost like putting together a 5000 piece jigsaw puzzle. 

One of the first things she told you was her favorite flavor. Any and everything peach.

"I actually got the nickname 'Peach' when I was in elementary school because I always brought a fresh peach for lunch, even when they weren't in season."

She despises oranges, mainly because she's allergic to them.

"I swell up like a Goodyear Blimp. It ain't very comely."

She likes chocolate milk, mozzarella sticks, forget-me-not flowers, 80's movie soundtrack music, and her favorite color is blue (real surprise there).

"Told you, I'm an open book."

But the thing that shocked you the most was when you discovered that your previous assumption about her had been right. She did grow up in Yuuie.

"Born and raised."

"Then why did you move away?"

Blue fiddles with the basket of fries that came with her mountain of a burger. She’d polished off most of her food, playing with the remaining bits she couldn’t quite eat. Mirio dropped it off earlier, as well as a giant glass of sweet tea. He had playfully ruffled her hair despite Blue's protests before disappearing back into the sea of dancing bodies. 

 "My dad was in the military. He ended up getting promoted to a higher rank and stationed in another country the winter I became a junior. He packed us up and moved us overseas before I could finish the year out." A heavy sigh escapes her lips. She picks up a French fry, dipping it into a small bowl of ranch dressing. That was yet another thing you learned about her: she hated eating ketchup with her fries.

It drops back onto the checkered parchment paper in the plastic basket. 

"I didn't even get to say goodbye."

You slightly sober up at the sadness in her tone. However, before you or she could say anything else, a frazzled-looking Neijire rushes to y'all's end of the bar. "Blue, it's the Pre-Midnight Rush. I need some help back here."

Blue nods. “On my way, darlin’.” She wipes her hands on her jeans, standing.  

“Back to work, then.” She pushes the basket towards you. "Here. You should eat something to soak up all that alcohol you've been drinking."

You take it, deciding to heed her advice. She rounds the bar, walking to the sink to wash her hands before clocking back in.

“Hey, y’all,” she greets the fresh flood of customers alongside Nejire. “Pick your poisons.”

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"So why did you come back?" You shout at her over the pumping bass. Present Mic turned the tunes over to his DJ in training, Kyoka Jirou around midnight. The later it got, the louder the music became. And Jirou seemed to prefer it that way.

Blue vigorously shakes a silver canister before pouring a pink margarita into a salted glass. She throws a cherry in the middle of it, topping it off with a sliced lime before handing it off to the person who ordered it.

"My gramma is sick," she answers, shoveling ice into a few glasses. "I'm the only person willing to come take care of her."

Blue didn't seem too keen on delving into details, and you were smart enough to take the silent hint and not ask. You’re nursing your eleventh, maybe twelfth drink? as she steers the conversation away to lighter subjects.

She regales you with a story of how the town flirt and electrician, Denki Kaminari, shocked himself on an electric pole after he tried hitting on her as she was walking home with her groceries the other day. 

“He kept giving me a thumbs up from the back of the ambulance and muttering ‘yay’. I feel so bad but I couldn’t help but laugh at him,” Blue chuckles as she polishes another pint glass before putting it on the shelf. “Bless his heart.”

“Sounds like a typical day for him.” You slur, a hiccup escaping your lips. “He gets electrocuted so much that everyone in Yuuie calls him Sparky.” You chug back the rest of your bourbon, belching loudly. “Except for Jirou. She calls him ‘Jammingyay’.” 

Blue gently pries the glass from your hand. “Jammingyay? Well, that’s certainly creative. I always used to call him Pikachu.” She places it in the sink, eliciting a drunken whine from you. “Sorry, sugar. I’m officially cutting you off. You’re three sheets to the wind.”

“Am not,” you insist, but your vision blurs and you aren’t sure which Blue you’re looking at. The one on the left or the one on the right. Both of them frown at you. 

“Yeeeeaaah, definitely time to call it quits. You’re as full as a tick on a bloodhound.” 

You burst into a deep belly laugh at her euphemism. Your laughter ends, as does the song that had been playing. Some rough feedback from the speakers grabs everyone’s attention, as well as the tap-tap-tapping of someone’s finger against a microphone.  

“Alrighty, y’all. It’s that time of the night. Karaoke hour,” Jirou announces, stirring up the crowd as they erupt into a fit of cheerful hollers. “You know the rules. Take a number, pick a song, and sing your little drunk hearts out.” Jirou places a couple of spare mics on her counter as a slew of girls immediately rush her DJ station. 

You scoff. “Who would wanna do something as dumb as karaoke?”

Blue flips a bottle behind her back, catching it before filling up a row of shot glasses. She takes out a lighter from her pocket, flicking it before setting the row on fire. They burn for a couple of seconds before she whips out two coffee mugs, setting them over the shots one at a time. After the flames die down, she passes them out to awaiting patrons. 

“I dabble in it from time to time. It’s a good way to get your emotions out or feelings across.” 

“You’re joking, right?”

She shrugs. “To each their own. We all cope in different ways.”

You feel the corner of your mouth twitch. 

“Blue! I need a pitcher of sangria and three whiskey sours!” Neijire shouts the orders as she places more bills into the Tip Jar and rings up tabs. 

Blue sighs, glancing up at you from under her lashes. “Never a moment of peace around here, I’ll tell ya that.” 

As she makes her way to Neijire, you replay her words over and over in your head.

‘We all cope in different ways.’ 

The first song gears up on the karaoke machine, lyrics displayed on an ancient projector screen. Familiar chords of a song you loved singing on long road trips start to filter out of the speakers, and the soft, subtle backup vocals of Dolly Parton croon in your ears.

You had no idea who was currently butchering one of the best songs (in your opinion) that Dolly Parton ever created, but you couldn’t help but want to sing along.

“Why'd you come in here lookin' like that? In your cowboy boots and your painted-on jeans, all decked out like a cowgirl's dream. Why'd you come in here looking like that? Here comes my baby, draggin' my heart behind. He's drivin' me crazy! Who says love is blind? He's got a wanderin' eye and a travelin' mind, big ideas and a little behind. Out with a different woman every night, but I remember when he was mine.” 

And how had you been coping? Not moving from your couch in several days, refusing to change out of your ratty pajamas. Hygiene had been a foreign concept during the first week or so after you and Katsuki had called it quits. You didn’t shower. You didn’t bother putting on a new outfit. You hardly opened your blinds, reveling in your misery in the dark. Netflix should have sent you a medal for watching nearly every romcom known to man on their streaming platform, all while sobbing into your ice cream cartons. You deactivated every platform of social media from your phone because you didn’t want to see how happy he was without you and didn’t want to give yourself any opportunities to fall into a deeper spiral of stalking his accounts. You chose to send your liver into an early grave and your bank account into the red with how often you frequented the bars and dives around town, doing your best to forget him.

How he smelled: like burnt sugar and salty caramel. How he tasted. How it felt when he held you in his arms. Like you were the only person he wanted to touch. To kiss. To love.

“Why'd you come in here lookin' like that? In your high heel boots and painted-on jeans, all decked out like a cowgirl's dream. Waltzing right in here lookin' like that. Why'd you come in here lookin' like that? When you could stop traffic in a gunny sack. Why you're almost givin' me a heart attack! When you waltz right in here lookin' like that I just can't stand it. To see him on the town, he's out slow dancing with every girl around. I'm a softhearted woman; he's a hardheaded man, and he's gonna make me feel just as bad as he can. He's got himself a mean streak a half a mile wide Now he's dancing on this heart of mine.” 

You feel as if the song is directed at you. Like an evil version of Cupid crawled from the depths of hell just to play with your already broken heart strings. That, or the person singing just had it out for you. Either way, each word hit you like a slap to the face.

“Ooh, Why'd you come in here lookin' like that? In your high heel boots painted-on jeans, all decked out like a cowgirl's dream.Why'd you come in here lookin' like that?”

Tears stung your lower eyelids as the song ended and the crowd exploded in whooping applause. 

Maybe whoever just got off the stage was in the same boat as you. Still in the tender stages of a splintered heart, trying to figure out how to put the pieces together. Perhaps that was their way of doing their best to move on and start fresh.

‘We all cope in different ways.’

How had you been coping?

Not well. Not well at all. 

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“Darlin’? Darlin’, you still with me?” A gentle shake to your shoulders startles you, causing you to jump a little. Blue retracts her hand. She meekly tips her head. “Sorry to wake you, sweet pea, but I’m nearin’ the end of my shift.”

You yawn, rubbing some of the sleep out of your eyes. “What time is it?”

“Nearly two. You fell asleep about thirty minutes ago.”

You grimace, rolling your neck from side to side. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize. If we had a decent taxi service or some type of Lyft or Uber, I would’ve gotten you one a while ago. Let me just get a few of these stragglers and then I’ll take ya on home, okay?” 

You yawn again. “Thanks, Blue.” 

She smiles, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Ain’t nothin’ but a thing.”

“No,” you blurt out. She stops in her tracks and stares at you. “It’s not.”

“It’s just a ride home. I ain’t really doin' much, sweet pea.”

“It is a big thing.” You insist. “It’s a really big thing. Thank you.”

She shakes her head. “No, really, darlin’, it’s--”

“You’re the only person that hasn’t treated me like I’m made of glass.”

There’s a heavy, pregnant pause.

“Well, why on earth would I do that?”

“Because he broke up with me.” Damn you for drinking so much. You always were a bit of a talker when you got more than two sips of alcohol in you. You lost count of how much you consumed this evening, and now you were no better than the town’s gossip columnist who went under the alias of Mount Lady. Here you were, bearing your heart and soul to someone you didn’t even know, but you couldn’t stop yourself. 

Blue tilts her head to the side, her eyes searching yours. “Who broke up with you, sweet pea?”

A bitter laugh nearly chokes you as it collides with the sob rising in the back of your throat. The same tears you tried keeping at bay earlier decide to form a prison break and escape the confines of your eyelids, slipping down your cheeks. 

“The Great Explosion Murder God of Yuuie, Katsuki Bakugou.”

You weren’t sure if it was the strobe lights coming from the dancefloor or the way your tears caused impairment of your already compromised vision, but you could have sworn in that moment that Blue blanched. 

“Ka...Katsuki....Bakugou?”

“Yeah,” you swipe at your eyes with the heel of your hand, sucking snot back in before it could drip from your runny nostrils. 

“I’m...I’m so sorry, darlin’.” 

She says it with so much sincerity that you know she means it. Truly means it. Not like the other people in town who said it to you so flippantly. No. Blue was different. And maybe that’s why you felt comfortable enough to be vulnerable with her, sans all the alcohol running through your system. Because Blue had something a lot of folks in Yuuie didn’t. A sense of realness.

And that was something you needed right now. A real friend.

“I hate to leave you like this, darlin’, but I gotta finish these orders. Will you be okay for a few minutes by yourself?” Blue apologizes, handing you some napkins. You take one and angrily blow your nose. 

“I’ll be fine.”

Blue’s upper teeth knaw at her bottom lip as she looks at you, skepticism written all over her face. 

“I promise I’m fine.”

“Okay....I shouldn’t be longer than fifteen minutes. We’ll leave right after that.” She reaches up on the shelf to pull down some beer steins, ready to run them under the taps. Once they were filled to the brim, foam spilling down the sides, Blue slides the beer down to Neijire for her to pass on to the people who ordered them.

“Blue?”

“Yes, darlin’?”

“Thank you.”

A small burst of air leaves her nose as her face relaxes enough to gift you with a gentle smile. She opens her mouth to reply to you, but the sound of the double Western-style saloon doors draws her from the conversation.

“Welcome!” Blue shouts over her shoulder. “We’re fixin’ to get ready for last call soon. What can I--” 

Shattering glass can be heard in the quiet pause between music selections. 

“Blue!” Neijire hurries over to her coworker, mindful not to step on the broken pieces. “Are you okay?”

You glance up to see Blue’s wide eyes staring at something behind you. You assume her concerned gaze is directed at whoever just came in. Her skin pales, and you see her visibly gulping. “Oh, sugar honey iced tea...”

Neijire follows her line of sight. Her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. 

“Uh oh.”

Her eyes dart from you, to behind you, to you, to behind you again. She snatches the towel out of Blue’s hands, firmly shaking her as if trying to snap her out of her daze. 

“Blue, you’re shift is over. Go home.” Neijire says in a tone you’ve never heard come from her before. “Tamaki and Mirio can help me with the mess, but you should go. You need to go.” 

You stare at the two of them in bewilderment. Why were they looking at you like that? 

The stomping of boots encroaches on your space, coming closer with each step. 

“Cat got your tongue, dumbass? What the hell are you starin’ at me for?”

All the blood in your body turns to ice at the sound of a gruff, grating voice. One you were all too familiar with. One you hoped you’d never have to hear again. Not since the day he left you in a cloud of dust, never to look back.

Blue is in front of you in a millisecond, seemingly teleporting from one end of the bar to the other. “Hon, I’m clockin’ out now. Grab your stuff and we can go.” Blue reaches under the counter to grab your keys. But you don’t move. You can’t. You’re glued to your seat, your hands shaking. 

“Leavin’? I just got here! Neijire, what the hell kinda service is this?” The voice draws closer until it’s directly behind you. A hand slams down on the surface of the counter, right next to you, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin. “I swear this town ain’t got nothing fuckin’ going for it anymore.” 

You try swallowing, but the lump in your throat won’t allow anything past it. You squeeze your eyes shut.

Don’t look up. Don’t look up. Don’t. Look. Up.

“Service can be refused if the occasion calls for it and the occasion is callin’ for it. My shift is over and I’m headin’ on to the house. You need somethin’ you ask Neijire and you ask her politely.” Blue huffs, irritation and disdain coating every word. 

“Who the hell do you think you are? My mother? I already got one old hag harpin’ on me day and night. I don’t need another.”

“I ain’t old and don’t you dare talk about your mama that way, Katsuki Bakugou. I will call her and tell her you’re causin’ trouble again. Don’t think I won’t.”

“Still the same ole’ tattletale, aren’t you, Blue? Even after all these years, you ain’t changed a bit.” He pauses, but you can hear the salacious grin in his tone. “Well, parts of you have.” 

A resounding slap echoes in the air and you hear several gasps. Your eyes fly open to see Blue almost climbed over the bar, her arm raised high, palm a burning red. In your peripheral, your ex is hunched over, fingers pressed to the side of his face.

“You don’t know a damn thing about me, Explosion Boy. You never did. Don’t pretend like you do now.” You hear betrayal, hurt, and a slight tremble in her words. You stare at her.

Did they know each other?

But just as you opened your mouth to ask the silent question, the familiar sound of your keys clinking together snags your attention away from the scene unraveling beside you. 

“Come on, sugar. I’ll drop you off.” Blue tells you, lifting up the trapdoor of the bar before closing it behind her. 

A hand shoots out, clamping down on her upper arm. Her eyes shoot daggers at the person it’s attached to. 

“Off in such a hurry, Blue? Always willin’ to start a fight, but ain’t ever willin’ to finish it. I was right. You haven’t changed a bit.”

“Get your hands off me before I have Tetsu knock you on your arrogant, conceited, spoiled little Southern ass.”

“Hah? That extra? Please. He wouldn’t last two seconds.” He tugs on her arm, trying to draw her closer, but his elbow knocks you in the back of the head. You weren’t expecting the impact, so it’s no surprise to you when you fall clean off your barstool. 

You crash to the ground in a graceless, drunken fashion. You hear Blue call your name, several people shouting, (all of their insults and anger directed at your ex), and three or more pairs of hands reaching down to help you to your feet. However, one set is faster than the others. Warm calloused fingers encircle your wrist, yanking you up off the floor. 

“Don’t toss them around like a ragdoll. Lord above, Bakugou. Sometimes I wonder if you’ve got anything up in that spiky head of yours. Then again, if your brain was leather, you probably wouldn’t have enough to saddle a Junebug.”

“Shut the hell up, you fuckin’ extra.”

“Don’t you swear at me.”

“I’ll do whatever I so fuckin’ please.”

Blue pinches the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger. “You could make a bishop mad enough to kick in stained glass windows with that outhouse of a mouth.”

You want to laugh. Really you do. The entire situation is like something you’d read from a tacky fanfiction, or would be a terrible scenario for one of your cheesy romcoms. You’re on the floor while your ex and new friend are above you, bickering back and forth like an old married couple. 

It’s like a trashy Southern soap opera. With a Dolly Parton soundtrack to boot.  

However, your entire world comes to a standstill when a pair of furious ruby eyes stare into yours. 

Katsuki Bakugou.

His forehead is crinkled into those grumpy lines you slowly grew to love, once upon a time. Bits of his hay-colored hair poke out from beneath a black cowboy hat. He’s wearing a dark button-up shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows, displaying his muscular arms. A clean pair of Levi’s cling to his legs and ass, perfectly sculpting the body worthy of a mythological god. 

So maybe there was some semblance of sense to his rodeo stage name. The god part at least. Because honestly, looking that fine should be considered a sin. You suck in your bottom lip, a not-so-subtle attempt to make sure that you’re not drooling.

Damn, boy. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” He all but yells at you, giving you a hard shake. 

The lyrics from the song from earlier dance around in your mind as your eyes drift down to his custom-designed cowboy boots. Black with bright orange X’s running across the front of them and olive green grenade emblems stitched to the sides near the top.

Why'd you come in here lookin' like that? In your cowboy boots and your painted-on jeans, all decked out like a cowgirl's dream. Why'd you come in here looking like that?

“Did you hear me, or are you deaf now? I said, what the hell are you doing here?”

Your mouth works faster than your brain. 

“Getting over you.”

His eyes widen, and for once in his damn life, he seems at a loss for words. 

“W-what?”

“Getting over you. The only way I know how. Because we all cope differently, don’t we, Blue?”

She stares at you with such sadness that it makes you feel guilty for even asking her. 

“I cope by drinking myself into oblivion, and you cope by inviting whoever the fuck you want into our bed. Oops. I mean, your bed.” The words are out before you can even process them, and you can’t take them back, even if you wanted to. Because, again, the more you drink, the more you talk. 

And you drank quite a bit. 

You really, really wish that you had gone through with the plan you first concocted when you first arrived. Because a concussed head was sooooo much better than what you just did. You recall what Blue said the moment that she saw Bakugou enter the bar.

Sugar Honey Iced Tea.

Shit indeed, Blue. Shit indeed.

Bakugou still stares at you, mouth hanging open. You reach over, placing your fingers under his chin, tenderly applying enough pressure that his lips slam together, shutting his mouth. Again, a feat you once thought to be impossible, but hey, you were just full of surprises tonight.  

“Trying to catch flies, ‘Suki? It’s easier if you use honey.” You purr, hand falling to his chest. His heart flutters underneath your fingers. 

“You drunk or somethin’?” He asks, clearing his throat as pink stains his cheeks. 

Giggling, you lean forward, your lips mere inches from his. 

“And if I am? What are you gonna do about it?”

His eyes narrow, glaring down at you. 

“Alright, I’m breaking this up,” Blue announces, tugging on the sleeve of your shirt. 

“Katsuki already did that for you,” you giggle, leaning back to look up at him. “Ain’t that right, ‘Suki? Dropped me like a sack of hot potatoes the moment I was no longer of any value to you.”

Bakugou says nothing, lips pressed into a firm, narrow line. 

“Time to go home, sweet pea,” Blue urges you, all but shoving you out the door.

You throw up a casual wave, flipping Bakugou off in the same breath.

“This was fun, ‘Suki, Let’s never do it again.”

And with that, Blue guides you through the double doors, allowing them to swing behind you. Your lungs greedily suck down the cool night air, goosebumps raising on your skin. Your body leans on Blue as she walks you to her truck. 

“Almost there, darlin’,” she assures you with each step. Finally, you’re brought to a halt in front of a navy blue Chevy Silverado. But before Blue can even reach over to open the door, you crumple into a sobbing heap. Your knees slam into the broken asphalt, but you barely register the pain. 

The agony consuming your heart is enough. And after the scene you caused inside, you only gave the town more ammunition to use against you. 

You hated this place. Hated this town. Hated the people in it. Hated him. But most of all, you hated yourself. Hated yourself for still caring about him. For still holding some kind of hope that things would work out and you’d be happy again. 

With him. Just the two of you. Like you always wished it would be. 

A pair of warm arms wrap around you, and you allow yourself to be held as you finally have the breakdown that’s been building up for the last three months.

“It hurts, Blue,” you blubber into her shoulder. “It hurts...so much.”

“I know, sweet pea. I know. And I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry.” She whispers, smoothing down your hair. “He was an ass anyway. Always has been.”

“But he was my ass. And I loved him. I loved him. I loved him.” You repeat, clawing at your chest, desperately trying to reach into the hollow activity of your ribcage and rip your heart out in a pitiful attempt to find some relief, hoping that if you were able to do it, it would make the pain go away.

Blue doesn’t have an answer. No magic cure or spell to help you through this.

But she’s there with you. 

And that was more than you could have ever asked for.

"Why'd he have to show up like that? All decked out in his fancy boots and favorite button up and that hat. That fuckin' hat, Blue." You ask, salty tears dripping down your chin. "Just when I think 'to hell with him, I deserve more and better,' he waltzes on in like a damn movie star and steals my breath away all over again. Despite everything he's ever done, I love him. And I think part of me always will."

You look up at Blue through your haze of tears.

"Why'd he have to come in there lookin' like that?"

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Why'd you come in here lookin' like that? In your cowboy boots and your painted-on jeans, all decked out like a cowgirl's dream. Why'd you come in here looking like that?

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

IT'S DONE. I HAVE FINISHED. I HAVE COMPLETED THE TASK BEFORE ME. ALL HAIL THE EXHAUSTED BLUE PEACH.

Seriously, I am so thankful that I was finally able to finish this request.

It's currently 2 in the morning my time and this entire scenario is probably flaming garbage that resides in a sewage plant because I wrote most of this half asleep. And before you tell me, yes, I am aware that it looks like the spirit of an 1800s author took hold of me and had a field day using commas for ridiculously long sentences. I KNOW. 

But I had a lot of fun writing this, and if you don't like it, don't read it. It wasn't for you anyway. 😘

I write for my own pleasure and enjoyment, not for the validation of others.

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

This is the first scenario of the Southern Roots Series. I will do my best to update as often as I can but life gets busy so don't expect too much out of me.

I really hope y'all enjoyed and I can't wait to write more.

Later, Taters! 💙💙

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

#southernrootsseries #southern au #country au #cowboy au #bakugou katsuki #why'd you come in here lookin' like that #dolly parton #request #blue answers #blue writes

[mhathotfic]

Thinking about southern au again. Thinking about Kiri who works on his family’s farm and is always the one who brings the delivery of eggs to your family’s bakery so he can see you.

Thinking about being childhood friends with him and how you used to roughhouse and tease each other and the sudden shift between you as you got older the casual touch and play fights faded and turned into bashful flirting.

He calls you darlin’ and you playfully punch him on the arm and tell him to stop, but you’re all giggles and smiles about it really.

When you pay him for the delivery, you’re hands brush and the touch lingers for a second before you both pull away and before he leaves you excitedly tell him to wait right there because you have a special gift for him. Some home made strawberry jam you want him to try for you.

You don’t tell him how you painstakingly perfected the recipe over the months just so it’d be perfect for him when he does try it though. It’d be almost embarrassing to admit how important his opinion was to you.

#pretty petra #bnha kirishima #mha kirishima #southern au #cowboy au

[xxaraaq]

𝙎𝙤𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙣 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙢

Just thinking about Southern! Midoriya x Black! Fem! reader bc why not yk

CW: suggestiveness

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

You’ve lived in a small town about 45 minutes south of Dallas all your life, growing up around the peach trees, farm animals, and pecan pie in your neighborhood. Being the Mayors niece, people know you as an easygoing, nice young lady. Now you and your peers might not think the same, but that’s not a discussion that we’re about to have right now.

You never really thought much about your looks, like yeah you knew you were fine as hell and people told you constantly (young or old, modestly or not) but you never paid attention to much to the random compliments from the guys your age, except one in particular.

Izuku Midoriya

The sweet, respectable boy who’s works his momma’s farm with expertise. He would’ve been just another friend of yours if he wasn’t disgustedly hot.

And your only not attracted to his body that looks like it was sculpted by Jesus Christ himself, no, your attracted to every single part of him.

His voice that calls to you in a mice country drawl almost every morning with a sweet and simple “Good mornin’ sweetpea.”

Your also attracted to the way his hands gently maneuver your body out of his path when he’s just finished dropping off his annual supply of meat, eggs, and milk. Putting a worked but gentle hand on the small of your back, whispering out a quiet and quick “Scuse’ me sweetie.” As he flashes you a smirk on his way out, a bell ring signaling his departure.

And don’t even get me started on you catch his eyes checking you out you as you talk to him behind the counter of the library that you work at. I mean, you can’t blame him. With you wearing a nice brown pencil skirt that reaches a few inches below your knees and a black v-neck that show off your smooth and supple breasts, anybody with eyes would look at how beautiful you are.

You act oblivious to him subtlety staring down your shirt as you make small talk with him about the books that he’s returning. “So Izuku, how did you enjoy them?” You ask, knowing that it’ll break him from his trance of looking at your cleavage

“Hmm? Enjoy what?” He murmurs, snapping his head up to meet your sweet gaze

“The books silly. How did you like them?”

“Oh, they were good! Thank you for recommending them to me.” He says while rubbing the back of his neck

Cute, you thought

“Well I’m so happy that you liked them. I can recommend some more to you if you’d like!” You smile, leaning towards him after you put the books in the bin

“I’d love that darlin.” He smirks, putting his arm on the wooden surface, closing the distance between you two

“You know,” deciding to use the closeness between the both of you to finally be bold “I’ve been watching your eyes go down my shirt for the longest time, since we were in high school actually. And I’ve been wonderin’, why haven’t you asked to have a closer look? I’ll let you see if you ask nicely enough, I don’t mind.” You whisper lowly, smiling as you see his cheeks burn a vibrant red

“Well I wasn’t expectin’ that sugar.” He chuckles, shaking his head as you let a sneaky giggle

“Well it was a genuine question, I mean correct me if I’m wrong but I’ve seen how you look at me.” You say, testing the waters by leaning a little closer, now touching forearms with the green haired man

You weren’t wrong when you talked about the way he looks at you. He realizes that that’s not how good friends look at each other. He knows that it’s not right to get jealous whenever he sees you talking to some random dude while shopping for groceries.

(he’s not random, he’s most likely known the guy since elementary school)

He knows that it’s not normal to get so turned on when he talks to you on your porch, daydreaming about what lies beneath your skinny jeans and t-shirt.

He knows that it’s wrong for him to jerk off to the thought of you with your legs spread open as you beg him to go faster and harder while he turns you into a dumb, babbling mess almost every night.

He knows, but in all honesty, he doesn’t care. Because he can’t feel bad when he knows that you ogle at him every chance you get.

He’s not dumb enough to not know that he’s fine as hell. And he’s definitely not dumb enough to see not you change your entire demeanor as you two casually flirt with each other. So instead of bashfully shying away from your questions, he also takes an opportunity to be bold.

“You are cute y/n, very very cute. But don’t think that I haven’t noticed the way you stare me down like you wanna have me all to yourself, and you’ve been doin it longer than I have. So correct me if I’m wrong but I would say that you have a crush on me.” Now it was you who was getting flustered, breaking eye contact as you smile

“You’ve figured out my secret.” You look back up at him, grinning as you see his eyes narrow in thought, knowing that he’s gonna say something wild

“Well now that we’ve uncovered the truth about each other, you gonna let me take a closer look now?” He asks, looking back down at your cleavage

“You have to ask nicely Izuku.” You tease, pushing your chest out further

Sighing playfully, he leans up to the shell of your ear and whispers oh so seductively “Would you a doll and let me take a peak of what’s under those clothes of yours.”

Thankful that there’s no one nearby or outside to see the situation your in, you lean back as you look him in his eyes

“My shift ends in 10 minutes, you can look all you want once I get off.” You say, smiling at him as you walk towards you office chair

You know that you could flash him right here and now since you guys are the only two in the entire building and there’s no one outside. But as your aunt Marie told you growing up “good things come to those who wait.”

And you were definitely a good thing

“You got me darlin.” Izuku sighs, backing up from you and the counter

“You’ll be fine you big baby. You’ll be patient if your really interested.” You faux complain

“Yeah yeah yeah, I’ll be out in my truck when your shift ends.” He says, a smirk setting on his face as he walks out the door

“I better get fucked by the end of today.” you think to yourself as you power off your computer, getting up to go put a small amounts of books away before you leave.

When your shift ends, you walk out the front towards his truck, anticipation written on your face

And let’s just say that you ended up getting fucked that night, hard

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

I hope whoever reads this likes it, I’m sorry that I robbed you of smut but in my defense it’s 7:32 in the morning when I finished writing this and I need to go to sleep.

-nene

#midoriya Izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #midoriya x black reader #Izuku x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #southern AU #Nene

[megwritesnstuff]

Mmkay fuck it. I’m just gonna go for it.

Naruto Modern AU with southern flair. I’m calling it “A Small Town Affair” for now, although I do like that title a lot and think it would become the real title if I don’t think of anything better. Here’s some details/HC’s I have so far already.

Credit where credit is due! While I have definitely considered a fic like this in the past, I really got inspired by @tired-biscuit and the way they portray Kiba and Naruto, specifically their Cowboy!AU ideas. After chatting with them a bit I couldn’t stop thinking about it and decided to just go for it and not worry too much about weather I’d be able to pull this off ““GOOD”“ or not. Please go check out their writing and support them! They deffo deserve it!

SETTING: I’m basing this off of my own hometown, but the name of the town in the fic will obviously be different because I don’t want people to know where I’m from aside from “Southern US” lol.

Mainly, it takes place in and around a smaller city in the south and the even smaller towns and rural communities near it. The city, while much smaller and less progressive than say, New York City, is still one of the most progressive, diverse, and inclusive places around. As you get out to the small towns surrounding, and even further out into the country/rural farming communities, it ends up being more hateful, less inclusive and accepting.

I think the story can take place over the wider region of this area, but it’ll mostly take place in the city (because, even irl, if you don’t go into the city you can’t get much done, lol. Its very centralized to all of the communities where various characters may end up working/living).

PLOT: Obviously, every story needs a central plot, or it just devolves into fluff. I like fluff, don’t get me wrong, but this will be the first “real” story I’ve written in a while, so I want to A) give it a strong central plot and B) actually end up finishing this fic at some point instead of going in too many directions and basically fizzle out when it becomes too hard to keep track of, lol.

I’d thought of the idea of going the whole “Country song murder mystery” route, considering the setting I’ve chosen, but I don’t write a ton of mystery/intrigue, or at least, I haven’t in the past. I also think I’d rather keep things lighter, so it’ll probably end up being more of a fluff/angst romance tale, while also exploring the ideas and themes really prevalent in a setting like this; Racism, homophobia and transphobia, cultural heritage(as in race/where your family is from) vs cultural identity(the region you grew up in/the culture you’re part of now), as well as things that are relevant to the IRL setting this fic is based on. Things like changing traditions and loosing traditions of a region as tourism gains traction, gentrification, and the melding of cultures and how locals react to that.

I feel like people will say that’s a lot to fit into one fic!! And how does that even relate to Naruto?? And I hear you, and I feel the same way, lol. This is basically gonna end up just being an exploration of things in my own life through the lens of my favorite anime/comfort show, and maybe people will like it, maybe they won’t. IDK. Isn’t that how all fanfiction is though? Ahaha

CHARACTERS: So, as far as characters go, they’re obviously gonna be the Naruto characters we all know and love, but I do have a few specific headcannons about these characters and how they would act in this particular setting.

Oh, also!! I have some very specific HCs about characters race! I know people say “oh well its a show made in Japan by Japanese people so OBVIOUSLY they are Japanese” but in a modern AU that takes place in the Unites States I think they could be somewhat different races! I’ll talk about it more in the HCs below lol.

I’m only gonna do the rookie 9 kids for now but if people want to hear more about these guys pls let me know!!

Naruto: Good ol’ Nart, lmao. Not too much I think would be different from how he normally is tbh, he’s still loud, clueless, earnest and amazing. He probably has ADHD, not to mention the trauma from having both of his parents die at a young age. I kinda think he lived in Florida before moving to (insert town name here). He got into some trouble in his last year of high school and ended up in a psyche ward to get help for his PTSD and other neurodivergencies. Once he graduated from school he decided to get the hell outta dodge and bought himself a one way Greyhound ticket to where he lives now. He just really thought that going some place where no one knew about his past would make things so much easier, but, life isn’t so simple. Eventually though he made friends, found a job as a farmhand that keeps him fed (and doesn’t drive him absolutely insane like office work or retail probably would have. ChriST SO BORING) and settled down here. Also!! I HC him as mixed white/Japanese. idk really why but yeah ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Sasuke: Broody, moody, standoffish and generally just “weird” to the locals of this town. Was totally goth/emo in middle/high school. Would have gotten picked on a lot more if he wasn’t the sheriffs son. In this fic the Uchiha massacre wouldn’t have happened, so his family is alive and well, and Fugaku is part of the local police/sheriffs office. The Uchiha family immigrated to the US several generations ago and settled in this town because it was the best they could do at that time, but over the years they did a lot to help enrich the community at large and gain everyone’s respect, so no one really gives them crap even though its a majority white area. It was Fugaku’s grandfather who initially got involved with the police, and the men of the family have followed in his footsteps ever since, until Itachi and Sasuke, that is.

Sasuke really didn’t care to follow in his fathers footsteps, but he’s doing it anyway because he wants his approval and love. He’s got to clean up his image first, though. No one wants a sheriff who wears eyeliner and parades around holding the hand of a local farmhand (who also happens to be a guy. What a scandal.)

Sakura: Honestly. HONESTLY. I always have and probably always will feel like we got robbed of seeing Sakura’s development in the anime. Unfortunately, I’m an anime only, so I can’t say much for the state of the manga but I could rant about this for hours. That’s a different post.

In this fic and my headcannon for her in general, I think Sakura is a boss bitch. She grew up in this town, she loves her hometown, but she’s ready to leave. She wants something bigger than what the (1) university or community college here can offer her. She wants to be a doctor, to save lives, to make *real* change in this world, and this town just isn’t big enough to hold all of her ambition.

She’d already have been gone, were it not for her parents and her friends here. How can she manage to balance all of her hopes and dreams, versus the love she has for the people in this place? Can she really leave them behind?

She’s also definitely having a personal crisis with her sexual orientation and she’s afraid thats not gonna fly with her folks. Weather it be because of her Japanese mother and her traditional, conservative attitude towards marriage or her white dad whose spent his whole life in the southern US until he was enlisted in the airforce and met her mother, she’s afraid one of them will have something to say about it. Yeah, they’ve never been anything but encouraging of her in everything else, but still, what if they freak?

Sai: My personal headcannons of Sai and how they interact with this setting are... interesting, to say the least, lol. I completely HC Sai as a transman who uses his shitty humor and sarcastic snipes as a way to deflect anything anyone might have to say about how he doesn’t look like a guy/isn’t a real man/is going to hell/ ect ect ect. He used to live up north, near Boston, but right before starting his senior year of HS got thrown out of the house by his shitty homo/transphobe grandfather (aka Danzo) and had no where else to go except to live with his older brother who’d already left home five years prior.

He totally can’t understand why his brother chose to move down south, right into the middle of the so called “Bible belt” and settle there, but it was his only option to fuck it, it’s that or be homeless on the streets of Boston. It was definitely a huge adjustment period, but eventually he made friends with Sakura (they had their elective art class together in senior year) and she introduced him to Sasuke, Ino, Naruto, and other people.

Sai lives right in the central part of the city, and it isn’t so bad. He has friends who respect him and he’ll tell off any redneck that so much as squints in his direction wrong, but underneath all of that he is a real softie who gets hurt easily. He just wants to finally, actually medically transition and start living his real life.

For the time being, he works as a waiter. He hates dealing with shitty tourists, but at least he usually never sees the same people twice, so its better than working on one of the local farms or local hangouts where people could potentially figure out he isn’t really a guy, just a really skinny girl wearing a binder. Also!! I HC Sai as just being white. He’s so pale come on. No melanin in there dudes. (also bc the way he acts, at least when he first gets introduced, reminds me of a shitty white fuckboi lmao)

Shikamaru: He’s lived here his whole life. He doesn’t have any really strong thoughts about it, doesn’t hate it and want to leave like Sakura, and he doesn’t love it and think its the best town in the whole of the USA like some of the kids he went to school with, either. He’s very meh about this place, like how he is about most things in life, lol. His dad is an elected official on the city council, and he’d love if Shikamaru went into politics as well, but the little lazy ass can’t be bothered. He thinks it’s a drag and he also doesn’t really see the sense in spending thousands of dollars to go to university. He’d rather just go to the local community college, chill with his pals, and (maybe) raise a little hell on the weekends, if he has the energy for it.

Just like in the cannon, he’s super happy to be a chronic underachiever if his family/friends will let him get away with it. Of course though, his dad tries to push him, and choji will encourage him to do better though he isn’t very pushy about it. Ino, though, will nag him every time she see’s him, lol.

I sort of HC the Nara family to be Native American/Indigenous, or at least mixed/partly Indigenous, however I am not NA/Indigenous myself and don’t know enough about the culture or nuance of the different cultures of different indigenous nations to properly write that, without it getting sterotypical/tropey, which is NOT something I want to do. I suppose I could say that the family is mixed, and the older generations are more traditional while the younger gens like Shika are more “americanized” or not as in touch with their culture, but even then, I don’t want to offend anyone or misportray the indigenous identity in any way that could be harmful, so in this fic they will probably end up just being white.

I do think theres a lot that could go into the Nara family’s connection with nature/deer/ect and how most Native American cultures have a very close connection with nature, though.

Ino: Okay, so, right off the bat, I envision Ino as Hispanic AF. Lmao. People are probably gonna give me shit about that, but let me tell you why. I’m married into a Puerto Rican family, and after living with the women of that family for many years, they remind me of the way Ino acts... SO MUCH. Loud, sometimes brash, so fucking fierce, literal goddesses who aren’t afraid to speak their minds whenever, wherever they need to. I’m not trying to say that Hispanic women are rude or can’t read the situation or whatever. Those are all qualities that I admire SO much from my MiL and my partners cousins and aunties. I think Ino is super Hispanic-coded honestly.

Her family probably either moved from Florida, or possibly several generations ago the family were migrant workers who came to this area during some seasons to help with farm work, and eventually saved up enough and settled down in this area (something which is really common in the IRL area this fic is based on). I haven’t really decided yet honestly but one of those two. I think the latter option could give a lot more drama, like, stupid people always giving Ino shit about it and there could be racial tension and different stuff. Ino doesn’t take anyones crap though. Someone is about to feel this babes chancla lmaooo

Wear shoes inside of the Yamanaka home and feel. Her. Wrath. FEEL IT.

Choji: Literally a baby, golden boy, he’s just shy and has no self confidence but hopefully that’ll grow. With Ino always hyping him up and Shika giving him subtle nudges as well he slowly comes out of his shell. I totally HC him and his family as being locals to the region. They live on a farm and own a farm-to-table restaurant that’s not only popular with the tourists that have begun coming into the city but also the locals. Its REALLY popular and for Choji its a source of pride knowing he’ll be able to take over when his Pa retires.

His mom wants him to go to college, even if its just the community college, but even with the success of the restaurant he worries about the money it would take for him to get a quality education, and honestly, it’s not needed, right? He’s gonna take over the family business anyway so there’s no reason for it.

In this fic he really is the poster child for “Good ol country boys.” He works hard, no matter if its in the kitchen with his Pa or helping his cousins pickin crops to bring into town. He’s honest, and a little filled with anxiety, but he doesn’t let it show. Happy to work for the weekend and have some beers with the boys when the week is over. Goes to church every Sunday because his Ma tells him to.

Also drives a pretty ratty pick up truck, lmao. Keeps saying he’ll fix it up one of these days but never gets around to it. Ah, well.

Shino: Definitely one of the “weird” kids in school. He never fit in with the goth/emo crowd, but also didn’t really vibe with the artsy kids either. He was definitely a loner. Is on the autism spectrum, but he’s able to mask pretty well, Really, unless you’re a family member, or Hinata or Kiba, you wouldn’t really be able to tell you’d just think he’s weird. He’s been friends with Kiba forever even though they’re drastically different, personality wise. Kiba’s kinda a fuckboy, sweet talking, ladies man type, but he’s still really sweet and cares about his friends with a ferocity that can’t be matched. Shino and he became friends after Kiba stood up for him on the playground in fifth grade, and the rest is history. Hinata joined their group when they all attended the same summer camp between 7th and 8th grade.

Shino feels more comfortable around those two than basically anyone else, and isn’t afraid to infodump about his special interest (bugs) as long as the other two have time. He’s aroace, but not afraid to tell those two that he loves them (platonically ofc)

He wants to go to uni to become an entomologist, but he’s gotta save up the money first. His family said they’d pitch in to help him so he doesn’t have to take out a bunch of loans, but his family is kind of poor and he doesn’t want to burden them. He feels like being born with autism is a burden enough, although literally NO one else in his family thinks that.

Hinata: I read somewhere one time that Kishimoto had intended for the Hyuuga family, as well as all of the members of team Guy, to have a much more Chinese feel to them and that has stuck with me forever so of course in this AU Hinata (and Neji) are Chinese. Hiashi is VERY strict still and imposes a lot of traditional Chinese cultural values onto Hinata starting from a young age. Originally the family lived in NYC but moved to Florida because Hiashi (and other older members of the family)wanted to go someplace warmer. Turns out, though, Florida is HELLA hot and it was too much, so they ended up settling in TN/NC where the climate is warmer, but more mild than Florida.

(Fun fact: We have a term for people that do this. We call em “half-backers.” Because they moved half way back hgfjhgdl)

Hinata is still very quiet and reserved as in cannon, but I’d like to imagine that when they moved to this town and she met Shino and Kiba, she comes out of her shell, even moreso than in the cannon. She ends up living a sort of double life, where she is quiet, respectful, never talks back and takes care of the household duties at home, but when she’s at school/work/with friends, she’s able to smile, talk, laugh and just generally be more carefree. She doesn’t even stutter, when she’s with the other girls or Kiba/Shino. She only really does it at home because she’s just, SO anxious being there.

Really, it’s quite the toxic situation, and gets even more so when Hiashi finds out that she went to a PARTY with BOYS in senior year of high school. In reality, she only went because she was invited and she didn’t want to be rude, but he really cracks down on those “traditional values” and even starts to suggest that maybe he should try to find a nearby Chinese majority community and see if they have a matchmaker. Or send her back to New York to live with her grandfather.

She quickly moves out and cuts ties with most of her family when she graduates HS. She does feel guilty for leaving her little sister in that house, though. :(

Kiba: Just like Choji, he’s another “good ol country boy” lol. Although in Kiba’s case, he leans a little more “Hell raising Redneck” type in contrast to Choji’s “sweet well mannered church boy”.

His family owns a ranch that raises chicken, goats, and cattle. They sell a lot of the butchered meat to the Akimichi family for their restaurant, and the rest they sell commercially. Kiba’s a good son and helps out with what he can between balancing school and just being a kid/young man. Although, he DOES think it’s fucking annoying when his mom makes him help out during the busy seasons. He complains, Tsume yells and maybe knocks him upside the head every once in a while, he ends up doing what she says anyway even if he grumbles. It’s routine at this point, lmao.

When he isn’t helping out on the ranch or struggling to stay afloat with his studies, he’s out partying with his friends, defending them from other locals, chasing skirts and just generally... raising hell lol. He thinks he’s really smooth with the ladies, and to be fair he DOES get a lot of tail, but mostly from tourist girls who come through on spring break or with their families in the fall to see the Blue Ridge parkway and such. Local girls? Couldn’t nab one if he begged. They all know him and see through his shit.

Although, maybe there is one local girl he could get, if only he’d stop seeing her as just his childhood friend and notice her as a woman.

And yeah!! Those are most of the ideas I have for now, but I’m sure I’ll think of more ahahaha. I’m gonna try to tag this really well so hopefully a lot of people will see. PLEASE let me know what you think and hit up my inbox to talk to me about Southern Modern!AU Naruto stuff. It’s seriously always open and hungry for asks. Also, I get lonely lol.

#Naruto #Naruto AU #Modern AU #Southern AU #Cowboy AU #kinda #naruto uzumaki #Sakura #Sakura Haruno #Sasuke #Sasuke Uchiha #Sai #Shikamaru Nara #ino yamanaka #choji akimichi #shino aburame #Kiba Inuzuka #Hinata Hyuuga #fanfic #ao3 #naruto imagines #A small Town Affair #Kibahina #Narusasu #sasunaru #SakuIno #tenatively gonna say #GaaLee #SaiTen #lmao its not popular at ALLLL but thats why its called a rarepair

[demaparbat-hp]

Kintsugi is the art of decorating your scars with pieces of Agni.

In the Fire Nation, the amount of golden marks are a sign of status. Only the Royal Family can afford to seal every single wound with Kintsugi. Such is the weight of this tradition that, among the ones with Agni's blood, it is the highest mark of dishonor to have a natural scar, for it proves you aren't worthy of the privilege.

After the Agni Kai, Ozai forbid Zuko's scar to be sealed with Kintsugi. The boy wasn't worth his title, his traditions or his pride. Zuko would be broken, but he wouldn't be beautiful. Not anymore.

(And sometimes it's easier to pretend he never was)

#zutara #atla #zuko #avatar the last airbender #katara #atla fanart #atla zuko #atla art #prince zuko #zuko fanart #zuko art #katara of the southern water tribe #katara art #katara fanart #zutara art #zutara au #It can be seen as platonic tho #kintsugi #Kintsugi au #Zuko wears long sleeves and high necks all the time. It's better than admitting he isn't worthy of the gold in his body #It's a long road to acceptance but the Gaang is there to help him move forward and love himself as he is #It's kind of their pet project #Anyways this Kintsugi-in-ATLA concept is up for sale :) #I'd really like to know what you guys think of it. How it can be expanded and stuff #And how it can affect Zuko's character and already low self-esteem as a result

[hirosboard]

Proof that fumbling horrendously WORKS.

#critical role #imodna #imogen temult #southern gothic #bells hells #laudna #cr3 #critical role fanart #critical role 3 #critical role art #cr fanart #cr art #c3 e86 #cr c3e86 #art #artists on tumblr #critrole art #crit role #critrole #alternative universe #critical role au #imogen x laudna

[charlie-jl]

Cowboy Remus!

Extras:

#remus fanart #remus lupin #remus lupin fanart #marauders era #marauders #marauders fanart #wolfstar #cowboy #cowboy au #this boy and his southern manners

[isaut]

𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒔𝒐𝒍𝒐 𝒄𝒖𝒑 — beidou x fem!reader. 1k. part of 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆, a southern au.

for @lorelune who asked: ophelia!! for the beidou country commentary drabble 👀 red solo cup or need you now? 👀💓💓💓 tw for alcohol, cookout at 2am, beidou likes banana pudding

Drake— 12:02AM

I think it’s time for you to come and get your girl. 

[Attachment.mp4]

You open the attachment to see a shaking video— The shakes caused by Drake’s laughter. There are a few notable things about the video: the obvious flash, the way in Beidou’s stance, the Toby Keith’s ‘Red Solo Cup’ in the background. 

She has one arm slung around Kazuha’s neck, the other holding a tall can of Pabst Blue Ribbon in her hand. Upon seeing the light from the video, Beidou turns in its direction. 

Her words are slurred, but the correct lyrics are definitely leaving her lips. As the song shifts to the slower bit, where Toby Keith swears his lifelong friendship to a plastic, red cup, Beidou balances her can between her arm and her breast, and holds Kazuha’s face in her hands. 

There is nothing but sincerity and alcohol in her eyes. 

The video cuts out as the song picks back up and Beidou releases her friend in exchange for lifting up her can and continuing the joyful, goofy song. 

With a fond sigh, you collect yourself. Exchange your sleeping shirt for a large tshirt, one you stole from Beidou, and a set of sleep pants from the Walmart clearance rack. 

The drive over to where the party is happening— A crew member’s house that you’re able to locate thanks to Beidou’s smartphone location being shared with you— only feels long due to the lack of lighting. There are few times you wish you drove a truck instead of a small, cutely colored VW Bug, and now is one of those times. 

Pulling up, your headlights flash against the newly developed house and the underdeveloped back yard, where singing and loud music can be heard from. 

You leave the car running, wanting to be in and out as quickly as possible. You have reality TV to watch. You have a long evening of rejecting your drunken girlfriend’s advances ahead of you. 

You give hugs as greetings to those that you recognize– All vaguely from Beidou’s work. A few you’ve run into at the bar. A few have even been over to your place for a barbeque that you were solely in charge of drinks and decorations for. 

You make eye contact with Kazuha, who is mid removing the beer from Beidou’s hand and bringing it to his own lips. He claps her on the shoulder and points over at you with his beer-hand. 

“Oh, shit!” Beidou exclaims. “Shit, that’s gonna be my wife! Kazuha, d’ya see that?” 

Your face fills with warmth as you walk over towards your girlfriend. She releases Kazuha, in favor of walking over towards you. There’s only a little stumble in her walk. She crashes into you, pressing a messy, beer-flavored kiss to your lips. 

Letting her down gently, you pat her shoulder to push her away. 

“Hi, honey,” You say, “Ready to go home?” 

“With you?” Beidou asks, eye wide and glazy. 

“Course, with me. I would hope so,” You say, “C’mon, my car’s right over here. You have your phone on you? Your wallet?” 

Beidou dramatically pats her jeans and nods in affirmation. “You gonna make me pay gas money?” 

You laugh, shaking your head. “No, baby. We’re just going back to my place. Say bye to your friends, I’m ready to be in bed.” 

“With me though,” Beidou says, smiling happily. 

You give your girlfriend a soft smile. “Say bye to your friends, be polite.” 

Beidou wraps her arm around your shoulders and turns slightly to wave at her crew members. She points at you and shouts, “She wants to take me home tonight!” 

“Go home!” “You’re drunk!” “See you Monday!” Is chorused back to her. 

“Alright,” You say, patting Beidou’s hand. You open the passenger seat for her and make sure she’s buckled up before closing the door. 

Climbing into the driver’s seat, you discover Beidou is already going through your things. Examining your center console, the shader above the seat, and the snack basket you keep in the back of your car. 

There’s still music playing from your car’s speakers, and you glance over at Beidou. “If you want a snack baby, you should have one.”

Beidou looks up at you with her mouth slightly open and her eye wide. “Really?” 

You make good use of the dirt driveway to do a three point turn that’s more of an eight point turn out of the driveway. “Yeah, of course, honey. I don’t know what I’ve got still in there. It’s been a while since I’ve been drivin.’” 

Beidou grins. “I know why that is,” She says, resting her head against the headrest and looking over at you. “I’ve been drivin’ you around instead. As it should be.” 

“And I’m sure you’ll be drivin’ me around real soon again,” You say. 

“I hope so. Do you think we can go to Cookout?” Beidou asks. 

“Yeah, we can. Want a milkshake?” 

Beidou nods, reaching across the console to place her hand on your thigh. Just as she would have if she’d been driving. “Yeah. You wanna know somethin, baby?” 

“Sure,” You reply. 

“I’m gonna marry you one day. And not just cause you’re takin’ me to Cookout.” 

You laugh, “I’d hope you’re marryin’ me more for than a quick ride to Cookout.” 

Beidou hums, scrubbing her clothed eye gently. “I will be, don’t you worry. Ugh, my eye fuckin’ itches.” 

You glance over at her with a bit of pity for a moment before putting your attention back on the road. “I bet a milkshake and washin’ your face will fix you right up.” 

“Are you gonna get somethin’ too?” Beidou asks, shifting around in her seat to pull out her wallet. “I wanna make sure you’re eatin’ too.” 

“I had a big dinner,” You reply. 

When you pull up to the Cookout drive through, you place Beidou’s order for her. It’s a burger, cheese bites and hushpuppies with a banana pudding milkshake. When the cashier asks if there’s anything else y’all want (at least, that’s what you assume, as the microphone seems beyond disrepair), Beidou leans over and places your order for you. All with a smug grin on her face as she hands you her credit card. 

“You’re impossible,” You huff, taking the card from her. 

“You love me,” Beidou replies. 

Smiling, you look over at Beidou. “You love me, too.” 

#beidou x reader #ask game #by ophelia #southern au

[shadydruid]

AU: Laudna and Imogen noir. What's the name of their detective agency? 🤔 you can find my version in the comments to the previous post

#critical role #critical role fanart #critical role spoilers #bells hells #critical role campaign 3 #critical role art #artists on tumblr #cr imogen #critical role imogen #critical role laudna #laudna x imogen #imogen x laudna #laudnogen #cr laudna #laudna #imogen temult #imodna #cr au #cr bells hells #southern gothic #dnd character art #dungeons and drawings

[astroknottt]

southern husband ! reader

graves having a southern husband makes all the sense in the world. you own a lot of land and right in the middle of your big farm sits a pretty blue and white farm house that you built. you don’t have kids just yet, but the two border collies.

while he’s away you take care of the farm, getting all the work done while missing your pretty little husband and praying for his safe return. as much as he loves telling you just how much the military could needs a brute like you—he knew the farm was a much better fitting setting instead.

those rough hands of yours weren’t made for holding a damn weapon, but for taking care of horses, feeding cows, and gripping his thigh when you’re driving that big truck of yours.

nonetheless, when your phillip comes home, you’re always there with open arms and dinner ready. you know he needs it after the things he does to ensure the safety of your country.

you also know how hard he works and likes to be taken care of after engaging in such physically demanding work. so you shower together a lot.

military balls aren’t your favorite, but phillip practically jumps at any opportunity to show off his good looking husband. extra points because he loves seeing you get all nice and suited up.

you usually just hang off his arm like some pretty eye candy— phillip will introduce you then make conversation, you have no problem standing back and watching him act all professional.

only god knows how insanely good and nasty the sex is when you get back home.

dates would consist of taking him horse back riding and out on picnics—it’s corny but you prefer enjoying nature and being outside than holed up in some cheesy expensive restaurant. not that you mind of course.

you’re a good husband. family is always first and being born into a big one, you know how easily to is to put phillip before yourself.

© astroknottt ™ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 !

#🕸️ — drabbles ! #FILE : [ 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐒 ] #𝐒𝐔𝐁 ➛ ( phillip graves ) #top male reader #graves x male reader #southern ! husband au — astro ( 🕷️ ) #phillip graves #graves cod #call of duty modern warfare

[soaring-trash]

Stupid lil doodle if they where in a modern au

(also laudna with gap teeth because i think it would be adorable)

#critical role #critical role campaign 3 #bells hells #critters #critical role fanart #laudna #fanart #imodna #imogen temult #imogen x laudna #mordern au #southern gothic

[sweetest-florida-blue-peach]

Southern Roots Series:

This is a series idea I've been playing around with for a while (and by a while, I mean five months). I’ve been debating on sharing but wasn’t sure because I’ve never really written on this website, and I’m honestly still learning how to use all the fun stuff like making banners and pinning masterlists and all that jazz. 

But I was also like, “What if people don’t like it?” and “I’m pretty sure this has been done before; it’s not like it’s original.”

However, life is short, but so is my attention span, so I'm gonna put it on Tumblr and make it everyone's problem. 😂

The basis of this concept is that each day I'll be picking a country song from my 'southern roots' playlist in my Amazon library. I’ll throw in a character and scenario which would best match the scenario and lyrics. Might be only one, might be multiple. 

@thecowboykatsuki-anon I blame you for filling my head with ideas of cowboy MHA characters 😂😂 but thank you for filling my head with these ideas all the same 😘💙

Pretty much all of the characters will be from My Hero Academia, but if you have a character or song request or both, my inbox is open 🙃

So hold onto y’all’s britches ‘cause I’ll be starting tomorrow. 

#honestly too tired to do it right now #might as well make the announcement though #southernrootsseries #bluewrites #blueimagines #bluerambles #bluesideas #southern au #cowboy au #my hero academia #mha #bnha #my hero academia cowboy au