fluff! doing the favourite words trend on valko, valko my baby :( still in denial
“hello?” you bring the phone up to your face. “hi tara!” no response.
you grin, thinking of valko’s response during this silly prank of yours.
“the weather is so nice isn’t it? should we go on a walk together?” you pretend to not notice valko shuffling ever so slightly towards you on the sofa.
“we should definitely get ice cream too! a chocolate ice cream sounds so good right now.” you relax into the sofa.
“baby?” you hear a quiet voice beside you, valko lightly poking your arm.
“hi baby, i’m on the phone with tara. can you give me a minute please?” he nods, putting his head on your shoulder.
“the new exercise machines at the park seem so fun, i really want to try them out.” valko sits up, lightly turning your head so you can face him.
“can i join? please, peach?” he gives you his best puppy eyes.
“shhh, just another minute baby.” you silence him, putting a finger on his lips.
“you should come over to mine so we can have a nap together, perfect date.”
“date? peach, please can i go?” he paws at your hair, kissing your cheek.
your heart flutters. “i’m sorry, baby.” you show him the black screen.
“so does this mean we can go on a date together?” he asks, nuzzling his face into your neck.
“of course puppy, we can go anywhere you want together.”
Look, all I'm gonna say is that even if Infold and papergames do try to right their wrongs morally and politically, and maye bring Valko back- tanking their reviews is doing more harm than good. Hear me out- if they can't convince the necessary parties that the game is worth fixing and continued support, we'll likely lose all of it. Yes, I know lads is a huge moneymaking game there. Yes, I know that doesn't seem likely. But how are they going to continue anything when there's no one to interact anymore? They'll have no one to bring him back to. Not to mention, it's putting all of our other LI's VA's jobs at risk. I'll be devastated if Caleb or any of the others lose their voices.
😔😮💨 I don't know, just.. this all feels like it's going to have the opposite effect of what everyone wants.
I'm not interested in a huge debate with anyone or fighting, just wanted to put that out there.
A global tweet-up event, join if you can! 🥹 And please keep it kind. :)
Putting this here again, for your consideration: I saw a post where it said to also write good things that we experienced with Lads so that their government will see the game positively.
Cultural heritage appreciation, learning about lunar new year celebrations, heck, I was even mesmerized by the mooncake-making video they did (the guys’ voiceovers did help keep my attention hehe)
Sylus’s self-defense video, Rafayel’s birthday art event, Caleb’s stress management talk, etc. So it makes me wonder what good things Valko can teach us.
So I'm confused, Infold just announced the new summer furniture drop coming soon, but below it still says a shattered quiet is being released on July 9th. Wasn't that new chapter specifically about Valko? Does that mean they're bringing him back? Someone clarify for me cause I may be misunderstanding. I don't wanna get my hopes up that they actually listened to us.
Summary: in which you meet the LaD boys for the first time and they see passed your weight
Pairing: all the lads boys (separately) x (F) Reader (non-MC)
TW: body shaming/fatphobia, verbal insults, negative body image commentary, self-esteem issues, fluff, suggestive (Sylus), body positivity
a/n: I mean no disrespect, I only want to spead the love to all to the plus size girlies out there, because you are queens and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise! 👸💖
THE WEIGHT OF BEING SEEN
XAVIER (word count : 525)
You tighten your grip on the collar of your coat as the wind picks up. The evening is bitterly cold - the kind of cold that seeps through your skin and settles deep in your bones.
Pushing open the restaurant door, you're greeted by a wave of warmth and the comforting aroma of food.
The kitchen is an open space and several members of staff greet you by name as you make your way to a table. Thanks to its cozy atmosphere, delicious food, and friendly service, you've become a regular.
Despite the extensive menu, you barely glance at it anymore. You already know it by heart.
“Good evening.”
A young waiter approaches with a notepad and pen in hand. One you don't recognize.
He must be new.
“May I take your order?”
You begin listing the dishes, and the waiter writes each one down.
“That's quite a lot of food.” He remarks
You chuckle. “The cold always seems to work up an appetite.”
“Are you waiting for friends or family?” he asks.
You look at him in confusion.
“If you are, I'll let the kitchen know so we can time everything accordingly”, he explains. “That way the food won't get cold before they arrive.”
“No need,” you reply with an appreciative smile. “It's just me.”
The waiter's eyes widen.
“You mean you're planning to eat all of this yourself?”
His voice comes out much louder than intended.
The waiter clears his throat.
“I'll put the order through right away”, he mumbles before hurrying toward the kitchen.
...
A little while later, dish after dish begins arriving at your table until the entire surface is covered.
The waiter avoids eye contact as he sets down the plates
“Enjoy your meal,” he says quietly before retreating.
At a nearby table, a group of men downing beers have been watching you for several minutes.
“Talk about pigging out.”
“No wonder she's the size she is.”
“Disgusting.”
They're speaking just loudly enough for you to hear.
You stare down at the food spread across your table.
Your appetite disappears as a knot starts to form in your stomach.
“Hey. I didn't know you came here.” A familiar voice says.
You look up and find yourself staring into a pair of crystal-blue eyes.
Xavier.
A colleague from another department.
You don't see him often, but you've always thought he was cute.
He offers you a warm smile. “Are you here alone?”
You nod.
“Do you mind if I join you?”
You shake your head.
Xavier removes his coat and takes the seat opposite you.
Panic flickers through you as his gaze drifts across the crowded table.
You brace yourself for the same judgment.
Instead, Xavier raises a hand and calls over the waiter.
“I'd like to order everything she ordered,” Xavier says calmly. “And add an extra portion of meat to each dish.”
The waiter's eyes nearly pop out of his head.
You stare at Xavier in disbelief.
He simply smiles.
“I'm glad to know you're a foodie too.”
His tone is completely genuine.
No judgment.
No mockery.
“Let's eat before it gets cold.”
Smiling back, you pick up your chopsticks.
——————————————————————
ZAYNE (word count : 407)
Today's been a good day.
You feel satisfied. Accomplished.
So, you decide to treat yourself.
A small bell rings overhead as you push open the door to a bakery. The scent of freshly baked pastries fills the air, making your mouth water.
Making your way to the counter, you smile as you admire the selection of cakes, pastries, and cookies displayed neatly behind the glass.
“Hello. What can I get for you?” the waitress asks.
“I'm not sure,” you admit. “Everything looks delicious.”
She nods. “Want my opinion?”
“Yes, please,” you say brightly.
“Given your size, I think you should lay off the sugar.”
The words hit you like a slap.
You had expected recommendations. Perhaps the bakery's bestsellers.
Not an insult.
“Trust me, girl. I'm doing you a favor.” She shrugs. “Nobody likes an overweight woman.”
Your cheeks burn with humiliation.
“I'll just take a latte,” you mumble.
“Good choice.” She smiles, but there's nothing kind about it. “I'll hold the sugar.”
You turn away and retreat to the furthest table in the corner of the bakery.
A moment later, a cup is placed in front of you with a soft clink.
You don't look up or offer a thank you.
A single tear slips down your cheek.
Then you hear another sound.
A plate being set on the table.
An assortment of pastries now sits beside your coffee.
“I didn't order these,” you say.
The man standing in front of the table. He's handsome, dressed in a tailored suit, with dark hair and striking green eyes framed by glasses.
“I ordered them for you.”
Seeing your confusion, he continues.
“I was standing behind you in line. I heard what the waitress said.”
Your cheeks immediately flush again from embarrassment.
“Her comments were rude and completely unprofessional. No one should be telling others what they can or can't eat unless there's a legitimate medical reason.”
“Like being obese?” you mutter bitterly.
“As a doctor, I can assure you that you're neither overweight nor obese.”
“In fact,” he continues, “I'd say your curves are in all the right places.”
A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, and the tips of his ears turn pink.
This time, you find yourself blushing at the compliment.
“Thank you for the pastries,” you say with a smile. “Would you care to share them with me, Mr...?”
“Zayne.”
The man finally introduces himself before taking the seat opposite you.
——————————————————————
RAFAYEL (word count : 421)
The sand is warm beneath your bare feet as you walk along the shoreline. The sun hangs high in the sky, waves crash peacefully against the rocks, and the ocean breeze is just right.
You bask in the warmth with a smile on your lips, grateful to finally have a day off.
Every now and then, you bend down when a flash of color or a glimmer catches your eye.
The small woven basket slung over your shoulder gradually fills with seashells.
Just as you crouch down to inspect another one, a long shadow falls over you, blocking out the sun.
“Do you have no sense of decency?!” An angry female voice sounds above you.
You rise to your feet.
Three women stand before you, each thinner than the last, their expressions twisted with disapproval.
“I'm sorry?” you ask, confused.
“Showing off like that,” one of them scoffs, gesturing toward your body.
You glance down and quickly check the straps of your bikini, wondering if something has come loose.
“Ever heard of a diet?” another woman sneers. “Who's supposed to look at all those rolls?”
And just like that, you understand.
Before you can think of a response, the women turn and walk away.
You hurriedly untie the sarong from your waist and wrap it around yourself instead.
Then a sudden gust of wind sweeps in from the ocean.
Your straw hat is lifted off your head.
You reach for it instinctively.
But someone else catches it first.
The man standing before you is breathtaking.
Waves of violet hair frame his face, and his eyes shimmer beneath the sunlight in shades of blue, pink, and purple.
He places the hat back on your head.
“Did you know that in Ancient Greece,” he begins casually, “the ideal female figure depicted in classical sculptures and paintings was often curvaceous? Rounded hips, and fuller figures were considered symbols of beauty.”
You blink.
The statement is so unexpected that you don't know how to respond.
He continues, “Don't let those walking skeletons get to you. They're just jealous they don't have the body of a goddess.”
You stare at him.
“Trust me,” he says, “As the famous artist Rafayel, I know what I'm talking about.”
A brief silence follows.
Then he lifts an open sketchbook.
“Now,” he says, flashing you a dazzling smile, “would you mind taking the sarong off so I can finish my masterpiece?”
The open sketchbook page replaced a half-finished drawing.
Of you.
Standing on the beach, collecting seashells beneath the sun.
——————————————————————
SYLUS (word count : 523 )
You approach the hostess stand.
“Hello. I have a reservation.”
The hostess confirms your name before leading you through the restaurant to a table for two.
Once you're seated, a waitress appears with a polite smile.
"”Can I get you something to drink?”
"”Just a glass of prosecco for now,” you reply. “I'm waiting for someone.”
The waitress nods and heads off.
Left alone, you glance around the elegant restaurant.
Soft music drifts through the air. Candlelight flickers across polished glass and silverware.
You reach for your phone and check the time.
A colleague had set you up on this blind date - a friend of a friend of a friend who just so happened to be single.
You had tried your best to refuse.
The idea of meeting a complete stranger made you uncomfortable.
But after enough persuasion, you'd reluctantly agreed.
And now, here you were.
You absentmindedly fiddle with the cutlery, trying to calm your nerves.
Minutes pass.
Your glass of prosecco is already half-empty when the waitress finally returns, escorting a man toward your table.
You immediately assume he's your date.
As he approaches, you rise to your feet and offer a polite smile.
Stepping out from behind your chair, you hesitate.
Should you shake his hand?
Offer a hug?
Perhaps a kiss on the cheek?
Before you can decide, the man speaks.
“I'm sorry. I can't do this.”
At first, you assume he's nervous.
Maybe blind dates aren't his thing.
But then he continues. “I have no interest in larger women.”
He places emphasis on the word larger.
Without a shred of shame, he turns and walks away.
Just like that.
You remain standing in the middle of the crowded restaurant.
You can feel the stares.
Hear the whispers.
Slowly, you sink back down into your chair.
Honestly, being stood up would have hurt less.
Even a last-minute cancellation would have been kinder than being publicly humiliated.
You pick up your glass and drain the remaining prosecco in a single gulp.
The moment you set it down, the chair opposite you is suddenly occupied.
You hadn't even noticed anyone approaching.
Despite his white hair, the man appears young - late twenties, perhaps.
His features are sharp and striking.
Broad shoulders stretch beneath an impeccably tailored suit.
His physique looks as though it had been sculpted from marble.
For a moment, you're too stunned to do anything but stare.
A physique that looks as though it had been sculpted from marble.
Two crimson-red eyes regard you with quiet amusement.
For a brief moment, you could swear the right glows.
With a snap of his fingers, the waitress who had seated you immediately appears.
“Two glasses of your finest red wine,” the man says. “And one of everything on today's specials menu.”
His voice is deep and effortlessly commanding.
“Right away, Mr. Sylus.”
There is a noticeable hint of nervousness in her voice before she quickly disappears.
He leans back in his chair and studies you openly.
“That man was a fool,” Sylus says, a dangerous smirk tugging at his lips. “Passing up something as delicious as you should be considered a crime.”
——————————————————————
CALEB (word count : 484)
You step out of the crowded elevator and make your way across the hall, past reception, and finally into the late afternoon air.
The skyscraper that houses your office looms behind you as you join the rush-hour crowd spilling into the streets. The city is loud and alive - people everywhere, traffic stretched in endless lines on both sides.
You take a deep breath, shrugging your blazer off your shoulders as you walk.
You barely make it a few steps before you hear a sharp crack.
Your body lurches forward, but you quickly regain your balance.
Frowning, you glance down.
One of your heels has snapped clean in half.
You groan.
Balancing awkwardly on one foot, you try to remove the broken shoe without dropping your handbag or blazer, all while avoiding bumping into passersby.
People brush past you, casting glances in your direction.
You don’t expect help, but a little less staring wouldn’t hurt.
“That's what you get when an elephant wears stilettos. I feel sorry for the shoes,” a woman says loudly as she walks by with her friend.
The friend snicker.
Your gaze sharpens as it follows them.
With a frustrated sigh, you bend down again, only for a strong arm to slip around your waist from behind.
Turning your head slightly, you find yourself looking up at a man with violet eyes and an easy, almost lazy smile.
“Need a hand?” he asks. “You can use me for balance.”
After a brief hesitation, you accept, shifting so you can hold onto his arm.
You try very hard not to notice just how solid his forearm feels beneath your fingers.
With his support, you manage to slip off both heels.
Now barefoot in the middle of the busy street, you exhale.
You glance at the broken shoe in your hand.
Yeah. There’s no saving it.
“I don’t suppose you have a spare pair in your handbag?” the man jokes.
“Afraid not,” you sigh.
“Now what?” he asks.
“My car’s parked nearby,” you reply. “I’ll risk the walk.”
You don’t love the idea of walking barefoot on dirty, hot concrete, but you don’t exactly have options.
You offer him a small, polite smile.
“Thank you for your help. Have a nice day.”
Turning away, you barely manage to take one step before you're suddenly lifted off the ground.
You let out a startled sound.
“Where’s your car?” The man asks, adjusting you effortlessly in his arms.
“Please put me down,” you protest with a whine. “I’m heavy.”
“Not for me,” he replies simply.
You look up at him.
There’s no strain in his expression. No sign he’s struggling at all - as if you weigh nothing.
Your grip tightens slightly around him, seeking balance, his warmth seeping through you from where he carries you.
You point down the street, and he responds with a boyish grin, already striding forward.
Summary: You had killed Caleb in your heart, and in your mind. It was the only way you could survive his departure off to college the summer you turned seventeen. That was it. He was gone. Off to the city to get himself a career with his shiny new degree.
So when he came back after four years to start working for your father again you didn't know what to do. The silence and the distance had done its damage over time. You did your best to avoid him, put your head down and worked to get through the winter while Caleb quietly orbited you, waiting for an opening to pull you into his gravity again.
Content: Reader is a no nonsense cowgirl, tuffest in the world. Childhood friends to eventual lovers. But first a little ✨angst✨ Misunderstandings, miscommunication. You make poor Caleb cry, but you make it better <3
Hurt/comfort. Happy Ending.
Word count: 8,700
From Hammy: Listen. I know you're going, 'where's the smut, slut?'
I TRIED SO HARD FOR YOU! I just couldn't get it finished to a point I was happy with it so I figured I'll give you the plot for now, and I'll post the second part to this sometime this month. A whole chapter dedicated to filthy cowboy smut for your viewing pleasure 💗 For now, enjoy the movie! Let me know what you think. As always, my comment section and asks is open to you 🥰
Most days Buckshot was a hell of a horse.
He could corner the meanest, most hot blooded bull and keep it exactly where you needed it. He was your wing-man during calving season, keeping the angry mama cows from pulverizing you as you tagged and vaccinated their new babies. But like all living things, he had his days…
You liked to think Bucky liked you, looked forward to your early morning work shifts. The truth you didn’t want to admit was—he really only tolerated you. But as long as you didn’t ask too much and had something sweet for him in your pocket, you both got along.
It was a win considering everyone else knew him as a demon dressed in horse clothes. He was moody, sometimes downright explosive, and had no qualms about pummeling you into the dirt if you tried to push him around. Most of the time you loved that about him…
Not today though.
Not as you laid sprawled out on the frigid ground, your lungs working overtime to pull some air into you after having it all knocked out. A cold open sky hung quietly above you as laid there, endless and pale—the clouds washed in brilliant hues of orange and pink.
It was getting close to six, you figured. Sunrise wasn’t far behind.
To Buck’s credit, he didn’t light off like bullet after launching you clean out of the saddle. He instead grazed about twelve feet away, looking up every now and then to check if you were still alive. You swore he looked pleased with himself, amused even, as you laid there cursing and spitting dirt out of your mouth.
You managed to roll onto your stomach with a groan. The world immediately swayed sideways. You stayed there a moment, blinking at the grass until the spinning eased, then pushed yourself upright.
The earth still rocked faintly beneath your boots as you bent to retrieve your old hat, stuffing it firmly back in place.
Pain pulled sharply across your brow.
“Guess we get to call in today…”
Buck snorted. You heard the slow, familiar thud of his hooves through the grass as he approached.
“You happy now, shithead?” You caught hold of his reins and gave him a quick once-over. Legs, feet, bit, cinch. Everything looked fine. Not a scratch on him.
Then your eyes drifted back toward the gate he’d refused to cross. Before you could even reach it a dry rattle crackled from the brush beside the fence line.
“That explains it.” You mumbled.
Glancing over your shoulder you saw Buck as stiff as a statue. His ears stood alert, his whole body locked and ready to bolt.
You almost chuckled.
This giant animal who could tackle bulls and chase off coyotes was reduced to a trembling mess over a little snake.
Another hissing rattle cracked out of the bush.
Beyond the gate, the pasture rolled away into open prairie with the blue rocky mountain range framing the horizon. You considered chasing the snake off. Considered leading Buck through the gate anyway. Considered shaking off the fall and finishing the day’s chores.
But your head pounded and the ground still swayed a bit beneath your boots.
Something warm crept down your cheek. You touched it and hissed at the sight of blood smeared across your fingertips.
You blew out a little breath.
Pretty as it was, the work would have to wait.
You stuck your foot in the stirrup and hauled yourself up—taking a moment to steady yourself and find your other stirrup—then pointed Buck towards home.
The whole ride back, you rehearsed excuses.
You’d clean yourself up and tell Alice, your housekeeper, that Buck spooked, but that he was fine and you were fine and nobody needed to fuss. Hopefully she wouldn’t call your daddy.
The plan was looking pretty good—until you spotted three riders cresting the hill, going in the opposite direction you were heading.
Your stomach dropped, knowing who they were without even having to look.
Your father had hired the same three ranch hands every summer for as long as you could remember. That is, until one of them sloughed off to the city for college.
Caleb, the bane of your existence since childhood, rode at the front of the pack, looking better than he had any right to in his fringed leather coat.
His family had moved into the little white farmhouse down the road the summer you turned ten. You were first introduced at the barbecue your daddy had put on to welcome them and one smile from Caleb had been enough to send you head over heels in love with him.
Daddy apparently loved him too, because he’s been a thorn in your side ever since. Always over for dinner, always down to watch football, always available when daddy needed something done. He even had his own room in the showbarn’s loft for when he wanted to stay over if things got rough at home.
It took you years to adjust to the emptiness he left behind. And right when you thought you’d kicked him like a bad habit, he returned home and begged Daddy to work for him again.
You’ve spent all your time avoiding him as much as possible since then.
Riding beside him were Gideon and Dallas, his two best friends and partners in crime.
The three of them were currently loping across the pasture, toward the main herd probably, carrying out whatever tasks your daddy had handed out to them that morning.
Problem was, if Caleb got a good look at you now, he’d ask questions and see the blood and blow the whole thing up into something it didn’t need to be.
The thought alone was enough to make you want to ride straight off a cliff.
You turned Bucky sharply to the right, squeezing him into a lope.
Maybe if you looked busy, Caleb would assume you were just checking fences. Maybe if you got to the barn fast enough, you could disappear before he—
“Hey!”
You winced.
In the corner of your eye, you caught sight of him lifting a hand in greeting.
For some strange inexplicable reason—panic seized you.
Suddenly you were smooching Buck into a full gallop.
You realized running away probably looked suspicious. And you couldn’t deny the guilt when you imagined the confused look Caleb was probably wearing.
He should be used to it by now.
When did you ever come when he called you?
Relief filled you as the main barn finally came into view.
You were so close! You would just stick Buck in his stall and head straight to the sink in the wash rack to clean yourself up. Almost there…
The relief only lasted a few moments, collapsing in on itself the moment you heard another set of hooves thundering towards you.
Did he follow you? There’s no fucking way…
You dared a glance over your shoulder, and sure enough, there was Caleb hot on your heels—pushing his horse to its limits to catch up.
“Slow down, will ya?” He called out over the roar of the wind. “What’s the matter?” Guilt pricked you again at the worried tone of his voice.
“Nothing’s the matter, you dummy!” You called out over your shoulder, scrambling wildly for an excuse, any last ditch effort to get out of this conversation.
“Then slow down so I can talk to ya!” All your guilt twisted into frustration at his stubborn persistence.
It was no surprise to him when you veered sharply to the left and galloped full force towards a weak corner of fencing. The corner you were always getting in trouble for jumping over when you didn’t feel like opening the gate at the end of the pasture.
Buckshot soared over it with surprising elegance for his size.
A sharp pain jolted through your skull as you landed the jump with him.
It made your stomach turn, but at least when you looked behind you Caleb was no longer on your tail. He pulled his horse to a stop on the other side of the fence, shaking his head as you galloped off.
You blew a sigh of relief through your dry lips and slowed a bit, letting Buck cool off.
You tried your best to act casual as you dismounted and strolled into the barn, taking Buck straight to the wash rack. You didn’t even clip him in, just dropped his reins and beelined toward the sink.
“Aw shit…” You sighed when you caught a look at your reflection in the mirror. There was blood streaked all down the side of your face, seeping into the collar of your flannel coat.
It’s fine, you thought. You’ll wash up, head inside, and sleep this off. Dad wouldn’t be home until tomorrow evening and by then you’d be perfectly fine.
The only one you needed to worry about wa—
“Gotcha—” Caleb’s playful giggle died in his throat the second you whirled around.
You were just taking your coat off, just about to splash cold water on your face.
His eyes sharpened instantly. That airy, carefree smile he always wore disappeared as he took in the blood-soaked collar of your shirt.
Your lip wobbled. You were already frustrated and tired and now you were going to have to deal with Caleb and Caleb was definitely going to tell your dad… and all you could do was resist shriveling up under his gaze while your whole plan fell apart.
Only, Caleb didn’t jump straight into scolding you, didn’t say a single word in fact. He just spun on his heel and grabbed Buck’s reins—lead him quietly back to his stall without a single word. You heard him murmuring into his phone a minute later, probably talking to Gideon. Heard leather squeaking as his quick hands unsaddled your horse.
You stayed hidden in the wash rack—gently splashing cold water on your face until it came away clear. It was only a little cut right at your hairline, but it was deep and beginning to swell. You were just patting the gash dry, wincing when you heard the stall door rattle shut. He rounded the corner right after.
“Come on, pips.” He seemed eerily relaxed as he offered you his hand.
It wasn’t computing in your sluggish brain.
You couldn’t quite match this version of him up to the Caleb who took every chance to scold you, to hover over you, to boss you around. Caleb, who loved to tease you—said it was his right as your honorary big brother—only stood there, stretching his hand out to you in a gentle invitation. You squinted up at him, planting yourself in place.
“What do you mean come on?” You scoffed. “It’s just a little cut. I’m going to take shower and dress it and then I’m gonna go to bed.” His face pinched into a little scowl, trying hard to mask his amusement.
There’s the little pest you knew… although he certainly wasn’t little anymore. He stepped closer, using his height to his full advantage in an attempt to tower over you. You couldn’t tell if it was his sudden proximity or the potential head injury that made the floor sway under you.
“I know you like to think you’re in charge around here.” His voice went deep the way it did when he was done playing around.
“Hell, most of the time, I’m happy to let you.” He continued with a long suffering sigh.
He stopped right in front of you, close enough that you could feel his breath fan across your face. You refused to back away, tried your best to muster any dignity you had to spare—staring up at him with that stubborn tilt of your chin.
“But right now, I’m telling you exactly what’s going to happen.” He unzipped his coat as he spoke, shrugging his stupidly broad shoulders out of it.
“We’re going to the emergency room to make sure you still have some sense left in that big, stubborn head of yours. Then you can come home and take that nap.” He huffed a little laugh as he wrapped his coat around you, found it cute how you drowned in it.
Warmth immediately enveloped you along with his scent and you had to resist every urge to hum in delight. The last thing you needed was him acting smug on top of being completely insufferable.
“Well I’m telling you that I’m actually going inside the house to take that nap right now because I don’t need to go to no hospital.” You went to step around him.
Unsurprisingly, he moved to block your path.
“Why don’t we get daddy on the phone and see what he has to say, hmm?”
You stomped your foot, growling your frustration as he bent to your eye level—grinning like a menace because he knew he had you.
“I just know he’d leave the auction early to come get his perfect little princess.” He smirked. “Then you’d have to deal with him for the hour and forty-five minute drive to the hospital.” Your breath caught as he reached out and slowly dragged the zipper of his coat up to your chin.
“But if you can be a good girl, and go get checked out, I’ll cover for you when he asks questions. I’ll even be your personal servant for the rest of the day, I’ll do whatever you ask me to.” His eyes gentled as he leaned in to get a close look at the damage He didn’t bother to hide his concern anymore—used that cute puppy dog eyed stare to work you over.
You hated how good he was at playing you.
After over a decade of thorough practice, Caleb was the only person on the planet besides your own father who could tell you anything. He was the only one who wasn’t afraid of you.
That’s how you ended up in the worn out passenger seat of his dingy, old truck—sipping a coffee he bought you when you reached town. He was constantly tuning the thermostat, making sure you were comfortable while simultaneously pestering you to keep your eyes open every time you started to doze.
It’s how he got you to sit in the emergency room’s waiting area, despite your constant whining. He laid back in his seat, lazily stretched out with his hat pulled over his eyes while you bickered back and forth until your name was called.
But he was also the one who held your hands when they got clammy as the doctor put a few stitches through the gash. He waited at the pharmacy while they filled your prescriptions and bought you a sandwich for the ride back home.
The heater blew warm air around you, the bumpy drive back home turning hypnotic as your pain meds kicked in.
Caleb was chatting from the driver’s seat but you couldn’t hear what he was saying anymore. Your mind was fuzzy and heavy and your were so warm—still bundled up in his giant coat as you slumped against the door.
Just gonna shut your eyes for a bit, you thought. It would save you the trouble of listening to his rambling for the next hour…
You got home around one in the afternoon.
Caleb had to nearly drag you through the front door while consoling your poor house keeper, Alice, that you were alright. The pain meds had relieved your pain, sure. But they took all your sense along with it. You could only laugh as your feet flopped uselessly beneath you.
Eventually he gave up and swooped you into his arms and you giggled like you were a kid again. Back when you loved him—back when he could do no wrong in your eyes and you looked at him as if he hung the moon.
The illusion was quickly shattered, though, as he tossed you like a sack of potatoes onto the couch.
You landed with an undignified little ‘oof!’
He paid no attention to your pouting, walking over to the ottoman that held all your favorite fuzzy blankets and reaching in to grab the entire stack. Your eyes widened he approached, looking full of mischief as he dumped them on you in a pile. He stood back and admired his work for a moment, a tender smile tugging at his mouth at the ridiculous sight.
“Caleb…” You muttered, voice muffled.
He chuckled, digging through the pile until your face appeared.
“What?” He couldn’t help the way his eyes crinkled at your peeved expression, at the way static was making your hair crazy.
You decided a little payback was in order…
“I can’t feel my fingers.” You mentioned innocently, “I need your help…” You wiggled your feet, still clad in your boots, to emphasize your point.
He knelt with a long suffering sigh and pulled your boots off while you shoved the blankets away.
“There, happy now Princess?” You shook your head with a wicked gleam in your eye.
“And my chaps, please.”
Caleb’s breath suddenly lodged in his throat—his adam’s apple bobbing as he stared up at you from where he knelt on the floor.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me…” You shook your head again with an evil little smile.
You could blame the pain killers for making you loose.
It was easier than admitting the truth…
“You said you’d do whatever I asked. Time to cash that check, big boy.” Your tone turned mocking and a hot blush bloomed across his cheeks, touched the tips of his ears. It suited his dumb, handsome face remarkably well.
His hands didn’t shake like you hoped they would.
They hovered for a moment, his long, lovely fingers hesitating as they reached your belt buckle.
You met his gaze and lifted your hips insistently.
“Come on, cowpoke, I ain’t got all day.” He scowled at your teasing tone, clearly frustrated, but deciding to keep quiet about it for now.
You half expected him to be rough and frustrated with you.
He wasn’t.
His touch was exceptionally gentle as he loosened your belt, his fingers barely grazing you as they worked. You found yourself blushing from just that little bit of contact, from the way his eyes seemed to darken as they focused. He took his time sliding your chaps over the curve of your backside, kept his eyes down and focused on his work.
But his face was burning red, and the hard set of his mouth gave him away.
You were no better off—entranced while watching his hands bunch the fringed suede and pull gently until they fell off your legs, relishing the moment.
“Thank you…” That came out much softer than you’d intended, far too tender instead of teasing.
He chucked a blanket at your face in response, disappearing with your boots and chaps before you got your face uncovered.
You grumbled, sinking into the couch—more than a little mortified by your actions.
The sink came on in the little bathroom by the stairs.
It ran while you dozed, followed by the thud of his boots trudging towards the kitchen a few minutes later.
He returned eventually, snacks piled high in his arms and your purple water bottle hooked on his pinky finger.
“Hungry?” He asked without sparing you a glance, plopping down on the couch next to you and snatching the remote off the coffee table.
“No.” You grumbled, sinking deeper into your blanket pile.
That earned a dirty look from him.
“Well you should eat a little something anyways… Over there wasting away.”
You had the audacity to side-eye him.
“Silence, servant boy.”
You sighed, feeling warm and sleepy and wishing he would touch you again in some small way.
“You can speak when spoken to.”
Caleb scoffed.
You’ve hardly given him the time of day since he returned and now, suddenly, you were here sassing him like you were seventeen again. On the same couch you both grew up on. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t love this, didn’t miss it terribly while he was away. At this point he would take anything—any scrap you gave him was better than the cold shoulder he’d been enduring for seven long months.
“You’re lucky you’re injured, lucky I don’t come over there and beat your little ass.” He grumbled, cheeks still flushed from your little stunt earlier.
You scoffed, glaring a hole in the side of his head.“What’s a soft little city boy like you gonna do, huh?” Caleb winced at your tone.
“You think I can’t do nothin’ about that bratty attitude of yours?” He flicked a candy at you, bounced it right off the side of your head. “I could change your attitude real quick, pips.” You flushed, refusing to meet his gaze, refusing to bite at the bait he dangled above your lips.
“You’re all talk. Always have been.”
“And you’re a brat. Always will be.”
And just like that, all the walls you put up around him started to crumble. All the hard work spent scrubbing him out of your mind turned to ash.
You couldn’t help the tiny smile that tugged at the edge of your mouth. Couldn’t help but melt like butter when his warmth crept into your chest.
Maybe it was relief.
Having him close and circling you again in that old familiar orbit was thawing you out and suddenly you could breath.
You plopped your head down in his lap with a dramatic sigh, knowing he wouldn’t stop you because Caleb had always let you do whatever you wanted to him.
He only tensed under you for a moment, a surprised little sound getting stuck in his throat.
Then, muscle memory took over.
His hand found its rightful place on the crown of your head, then started smoothing your hair down. Then, slowly, his fingers spread and buried themselves in your hair, gently tugging out knots.
Caleb’s heart was cracking open while you were none the wiser, dozing off in the warm cradle of his lap. He fought the urge to lean down and bury himself in you. He wanted to feel you all over his skin, wanted to breath you and drown in you.
Instead he sat still so as not to disturb your sleep, ran his ringers over your scalp, down through your hair, arranging the ends into little hearts to pass the time.
You passed the entire rest of the day like that; sleeping, snacking, watching movies.
For the first time in years you felt weightless—the constant gnawing ache in your chest dissolving under his gentle fingertips.
Hours slipped by without you noticing, until your phone buzzed.
The clock read 9:42pm when you clicked your screen awake. There were endless notifications from all your neighbors about preparing for tomorrow.
You sighed and clicked your phone shut, nuzzling back into Caleb’s lap instead of replying.
Another hour or so passed in relative peace before you couldn’t take it anymore. All of your unanswered questions finally bubbled over.
“Caleb?”
“Hmm?” He lifted his head off the back of the couch so he could look down at you.
“Why didn’t you call me after you left?” His breath caught.
It was the question he had been dreading since he came back home. He’d spent seven months imagining this conversation. Somehow he still had no idea what to say.
Your eyes searched his as he came up with the right words.
“I wanted to call you, pips.” His gaze shifted away from yours, looking more than a little guilty. “I guess I… I was afraid.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes.
“Afraid of what?” You asked incredulously.
“I was feeling guilty. Your mom had just passed when I left and… well…” He sighed, running his fingers through his hair.
“I thought you hated me for leaving, so I gave you a little space. But I thought about you every day.” You rolled your eyes again but didn’t say anything.
Caleb felt the panic rising, pulling something tight in his chest. His arm instinctively wrapped around your middle before he could stop to think about what he was doing.
“I was so excited to see you during holiday break. I still remember knocking on your door to surprise you…” He chuckled, but it sounded a little strangled. “I remember you stuck your nose straight in the air and walked away.” His shoulders sank a little at the memory, trying to smile it off.
But his eyes betrayed him.
Your face burned with shame at the memory. Back then you felt like the only way you would survive was if you killed him off in your heart. Buried him in the graveyard next to your mama…
“I’d have tossed my scholarship in the bin and come running back home if you asked me to.” He said quietly after a moment passed in silence, blushing at how corny it sounded, but it was true…
You took a moment to gather yourself, all of the hurt and broken pieces that had you held onto so tightly were starting to slip from your grasp.
“I guess I did hate you back then…” You admitted with a tired sigh.
You expected to see him scowl, to flick your forehead. But he only smiled with that specific brand of tenderness he reserved only for you and tucked your hair behind you ear.
It gave you the courage to keep going.
“I felt like you abandoned me when I needed you the most…”
Your words came out quieter than you meant, small and vulnerable.
“I thought you met a pretty girl in college and forgot all about me. Didn’t think you were ever coming back”“What on earth made you think that?”
“I saw a picture on your page with a bunch of people at some party… there was a girl hanging on your shoulder.” You grumbled with a blush.
Why the hell were you admitting this to him?“I…” He squinted up at the ceiling, trying to find the right way to word it so you wouldn’t take off running again.
He’d waited so long for this opportunity, dreamed of the moment he could draw you in…
“I had a lot of interest.” He chuckled. “But I turned each and everyone of them down.” You turned your back to him so he couldn’t see your blushing cheeks—pretending to be suddenly interested in the reality show on tv while you squashed the little flair of hope lighting up your chest.
Unfortunately Caleb misread the moment.
Panic seized him.
This was it, he thought.
You were shutting him out again and he’d never have another chance to tell you everything that he has been dying to say for nearly five years.
His arms wrapped around you, gathered you up.
“Please don’t be angry with me. I’ve missed you so much.” He bent to nuzzle your hair and you squeaked at the unfamiliar sensation.
Caleb never touched you like this…
It certainly wasn’t because you didn’t want him to. Hell, you’ve been bending over backwards since you were sixteen to get him to notice you in that way.
But no matter how skimpy your bikini was in the summertime, no matter how tight your blue jeans hugged you, how carefully you tailored your chaps to squeeze around your ass just right… Caleb refused to look at you with anything other than tenderness.
It drove you crazy.
And now, suddenly, his breath was tickling your ear and his arms were wrapped tightly around your waist and you were losing your ever loving mind.
“Pips?” He murmured into your hair, shooting heat through your entire body. You felt like you were gonna vibrate right out of your skin and float away.
Caleb was no better off—spiraling in the awkward silence. It was killing him. He needed you to say something, anything.
He hauled you up off is lap and into his chest, his arms locking around you like a cage.
“Ugh, Caleb—” You wheezed, squirming a little in his grasp until you felt him shudder.
“Caleb?” You froze in his hold.
His only response was squeezing you impossibly tighter until his breath warmed the top of your head.
“I’m sorry.” He mumbled weakly, his voice straining against the lump in his throat.
“I’m sorry for leaving you behind.” His chest shuddered again. “Sorry for making you deal with it all alone.”
Was he crying?
You were horrified by the realization, turning in his grasp to look at him. He ducked his face in your neck, squeezing you tight—the last thing he wanted was for you to see him like this.
You tried wiggling out of his grasp again and were met with a grunt.
“Stop trying to get away from me.” He whined, ghosting his lips along the shell of your ear. It was a weak spot of yours and he knew it—a dirty trick. But he was willing to play dirty at this point. Willing to pay the price for it later if it meant you stayed in his arms like this for a little longer.
You gasped as the heat of his breath lit your body like a cigarette, his face dipped lower—lips ghosting over your pulse point while he pulled you into his lungs like smoke. You needed to grab the reins fast before your own body ran off with you.
“Will you let go?” You gasped, “I’m not trying to get away from you, you dummy!”
He calmed down a little at that, just enough for you to work your arms free.
You coaxed his face out of your neck, tilting his head up.
The sight broke your heart a little.
His eyes were still watery, face contorted in agony as he looked up at you.
He burned with shame, his tears now on full display, but he was too desperate to care anymore.
You gathered yourself with a shaky breath, staring into his eyes with wary anticipation.
“What are you trying to tell me, cowpoke?” You swept his hair out of his eyes, moved your hands to gently cradle his face. His glassy eyes widened a little as they stared into yours, lip trembling just slightly.
You’d never seen this expression on Caleb before.
All the air drained out of your lungs as the moment you’ve been waiting for your entire life hung in the open air between you.
“Ain’t it obvious?” He whispered, vulnerable and bashful.
The cold spike of fear was fading fast, slowly replaced by a fiery heat with the way you were looking at him right now.
“Maybe… but I wanna hear you say it…” God, that bratty little tone…
Caleb didn’t think it was possible—the way it suddenly made you ten times hotter. His face practically glowed in the dark living room.
You almost smirked at the way his gaze darted to your lips, then right back up to meet your eyes.
He gulped, took a breath.
“I love y—oomf!” Stars burst behind his eyes as your mouth came crashing into his.
Softer and warmer and sweeter than he could have ever imagined.
His arms released their crushing grip around your waist—hands winding around your face, cupping it so gently as he leaned into the kiss. His body was hyper-aware of yours as it pressed tightly against him, soft and warm and alive with a wild, hammering heartbeat…
You whimpered, barely a breath against his lips but it was enough to melt him into a groaning puddle. A burning frenzy scorched low in his stomach—had him pressing into you, stealing the air right out of you. Blood was draining from his brain quickly, taking all rational thought with it as it pooled somewhere lower…
You were no better off, struggling just to pull some air back into your burning lungs while your mind skidded and spun out. You pulled away to look at him—at his long legs sprawled out under you, at his heaving chest, at the deep blush painting his face in a cute pink tint.
His hooded eyes glowed with affection as they stared back at you.
You were just about to go in for another kiss, already leaning into him when your phone rang.
“Shit!” You hissed.
Who the hell was calling you this late? You reached behind you, scrabbling in the dark until Caleb bent you both forward and grabbed it for you.
“Thank you” You breathed.
Your dad’s contact flashed across the screen and the color drained out of your face.
You took a deep breath, composed your buzzing body before answering.
“Hey, daddy.” Caleb held his chuckle in, watching you struggle to get your feet under you.
“Hey, baby girl. Ain’t heard from you all day, you alright?” You realized with a little pang of guilt that if he was calling you this late it meant you kept him up with worry.
“I’m… okay.” He waited patiently for you to continue.
“I um… I had a little spill today is all. Been sleepin’ it off.” You could practically see him bristling up on the other end of the line.
“A little fall, hm? Buckshot throw you again?” Your panicked gaze flicked up to Caleb. He took the phone from you with the airy confidence you knew so well.
“Hey pops!” His voice was suddenly sweet and boyish and your dad hopped straight into conversation with him like you were never there.
“No, she took SideGig out this morning, Bucky was acting a little fresh.” He paused while your dad chatted. Caleb turned to you, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
“What’d you say happened pips?”
“Um, there was a rattle snake by the gate that I couldn’t I see and Gigi spooked.” You felt a little guilty for lying, but Bucky was already on thin ice with daddy and you didn’t want to give him another reason to hate him.
Caleb could sense your guilt, winked at you as he spoke.
“Yeah, I took her stubborn butt to ER. She’s alright, just needs to rest… Yep. I’m going up to check the pens first thing in the morning.” Another pause.
“No I can handle that, too. It’ll all be ready by the time you get home.”
“It’s no problem… thought I’d better keep an eye on her tonight, anyways.” You could hear your daddy gushing on his end of the phone. He always had endless praise for Caleb, you had to fight the urge to roll your eyes as he milked it.
“Yes sir. Alright, here’s your baby.” He handed your phone back to you and kicked his legs up like this was the most natural thing in the world.
“Hey… yes I’m resting, about to go to sleep now actually.”
“You make sure to tell Caleb thank you.”
“Yes daddy…” You blushed as Caleb smirked.
“Alright baby girl, get some good sleep. Text me in the morning when you wake up. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Can’t wait. Love you.” You have never been so relieved to hang up in your life.
For a moment, neither of you said anything as you stared at the phone. Then the tension finally cracked, the both of you dissolving into a fit of giggles.
“Thanks, Cay.”
A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“You can call me baby, if you want.”
“Don’t start pushin’ your luck.”
Despite the warning, you leaned forward and pressed a kiss between his brows.
The sound that escaped him was embarrassing, a delighted little hum vibrating in his chest as his arms tightened around you,.
“You’ll stay with me tonight, won’t you?” You tipped your head back to look at him. “Just to keep an eye on me?”
You fluttered your eyelashes and that sweet, bubbly laugh slipped out of him again—the one that only seemed to exist when you two were together.
“I don’t think you’re gettin rid of me after that kiss.”
“Good.”
Early morning spilled through the front windows, painted the room in it’s cool blue light. Sometime during the night Caleb had wrapped himself around you, held you fast against him to keep you from rolling off the couch.
Alice found the two of you tangled together on the couch when she stepped inside to start on breakfast, a fond little smile spread across her face.
“It’s about time, you two.”
The words were spoken softly, so as not to disturb the peaceful scene before her. She fought the urge to take a picture and send it to your daddy, knowing you’d cuss her from a boot to a slipper if she did.
By the time you finally woke, the smell of fresh coffee had drifted through the house.
You started the morning slowly.
Drinking coffee together turned into teasing and giggling. Giggling turned into kissing.
Then more kissing.
At some point Caleb stopped pretending he had any interest in finishing his breakfast and backed you into against the countertops to kiss you properly.
Only breaking away when he heard Alice’s footsteps approaching.
By the time Alice reached the kitchen it was empty—mugs in the sink and barely eaten breakfast still laid out on the table—the back door creaked shut before she could holler at you.
The cut on your head was tender, the cold morning air biting at the raw edges of it as you and Caleb made your way to the barn, gravel crunching under your boots as you walked side by side.
Spring had arrived in the valley weeks ago, but the mountains were still blanketed in snow along their highest peaks. The scent of damp earth and fresh grass lingered on the breeze as the sleepy ranch slowly came to life around you both.
Horses blew impatiently in their stalls, a tractor fired up somewhere in the distance.
The familiar sounds felt different this morning.
The weight of the day didn’t press on you, crush you under its weight like it had for so long. Not when Caleb was walking next you, smiling down at you like a fool.
You talked about everything and nothing while brushing your horses under the warm barn lights, Caleb saddled Buck for you while you wrapped Gigi’s legs and oiled her hooves.
When it came time to mount up, he offered his hand.
Normally you would’ve argued, would’ve informed him exactly where he could stick his helping hand.
Not today though. Today, you took it with a smile, blushing as you got yourself seated. The warmth of his touch lingered on your skin as you picked up your reins.
It was a chilly morning for May.
A wispy veil of mist still clung to the lower fields, slowly burning away beneath the rising sun as your rode out. Beyond the ranch, the Rockies stretched across the horizon in shades of blue and gold, their peaks glowing beneath the first real light of day.
Buck and Gigi were fresh and eager to move.
Once you were through the first pasture gate you gave Bucky his head. He took off immediately, exploding into a rowdy canter under you—throwing a little buck. You laughed as he tossed his big, beautiful head up in delight.
Gigi and Caleb approached on your left.
“Wanna race?” He hollered over the roaring wind and hoofbeats.
“You’ll lose!”
Caleb took a moment to etch the sight of you like this into his memory. They way you floated effortlessly, the wind blowing your hair in wild tendrils as you galloped away from him. He let you get away, enjoyed the view of you in front of him too much to care about losing.
The rhythm of hoofbeats sank into your bones and something inside you sang out with them. Fence posts flew by in a blur. Cold air filled your head, stung your lungs in the most pleasant way.
You reached the far end of the quarantine pastures in no time and fell into work mode seamlessly. Conversation died out, which was fine.
Caleb knew you rarely talked while working.
Out here, words were usually reserved for callouts, instructions, or warnings. The rest of the time, you let the horses carry you where you needed to go and enjoyed the quiet.
For once, Caleb was behaving himself. He didn’t tease you when you dropped a nail, got off his horse to string and stretch wire with you without you having to ask.
And you only caught him looking at you with ridiculous, love struck eyes twice.
The first time you rolled your eyes at him, but the second time you called him out.
“What?” You asked sharply with a hand on your hip.
His grin only widened.
“Nothin’.”
Liar. The smile threatening your own mouth lasted the rest of the ride.
By noon the quarantine pasture was good to go and the sun had climbed high enough to chase away the morning frost. What little chill remained lingered only in the shadows beneath the pines and along the north side of the hills.
The pastures stretched green and gold beneath an endless blue sky. Somewhere in the distance a meadowlark called.
You tipped your face toward the warmth of the sun for a moment, savoring it.
Behind you, Caleb swung down from Gigi and opened up the final gate.
“After you, baby doll.” He said in that sweet lilted voice.
You faked a scowl.
“Better not get used to calling me that, cowpoke. I’d hate for the neighbors to hear.”
“I want em’ to hear..” He hauled himself up into his saddle and sat with a wink, loving the way your cheeks pinked up, the way your eyes darted away from him as you took off.
The ranch was fully awake and buzzing with activity by the time you reached home.
Pickup trucks, stock trailers, dusty SUVs, and the occasional ancient farm truck stretched all the way down the driveway and spilled into the yard beside the house.
Dust billowed around you as you approached the barn. Bucky was already growing agitated with all the commotion.
Voices carried on the breeze, dogs barked, and horses nickered from the corrals, the smell of warm horses and leather lingered with the afternoon heat, someone laughed loud enough to be heard from halfway across the property.
You couldn’t help smiling.
Auction days always felt a little like a holiday.
Neighbors had been showing up to help for as long as you could remember.
The men were already hard at work. Some were hauling portable panels into position while others saddled horses or leaned against fence rails with coffee cups in their hands, discussing the day’s plans.
The women, meanwhile, had completely taken over the house.
Through the open kitchen windows drifted the smell of fresh coffee, homemade bread, onions sizzling in butter, and something sweet baking in the oven. Every now and then a burst of laughter floated out across the yard.
By tonight there’d be enough food to feed an army.
The chatter around the corrals seemed to die out the moment you and Caleb rode in.
You kept your eyes forward and your head held high as you trotted on.
Maybe if you acted natural your neighbors would mind their own business and let you be. Caleb ruined that plan almost immediately as soon as you reached the barn.
He caught you as you dismounted, setting you gently on your feet and spinning you into his waiting embrace.
You barely had time to register it before he was burying his face in your hair.
“Dammit, Caleb!” You swatted him away as chorus of laughter erupted. You heard them murmuring to each other as heat flooded your cheeks.
“About damn time.” You heard your old neighbor’s timbery voice pipe up. “You owe me twenty bucks, Darren.”
“You better mind your business, Frank!” you hollered without looking back.
That only made them laugh harder.
Caleb looked entirely too pleased with himself, looking pitifully love struck without an apology in sight.
You snatched Buck’s reins from his hand before he could try anything else and marched toward the barn with what dignity you had left.
Temporary pens had been set up for the visiting horses.
You stuck Buck in an empty one and hung a water bucket for him, took your time checking him over, running your hand over his smoky hide until your burning cheeks cooled and your pride recovered its footing.
Buck ignored your suffering completely, too busy eating the hay left behind by the previous tenant.
It was quiet for a moment.
But unfortunately there was no escaping the neighbors. Not for long anyway.
The first one found you before you’d even latched the gate behind you as you left Bucky to eat.
Then another… and another.
Some wanted to ask about the incoming cattle, some were looking for an update from your dad. Every single one of them stopped mid-conversation the second they noticed the bruise across your forehead.
“Ouch.”
“What happened to you?”
“Lord above, that looks painful.”
“You finally lose an argument with Buckshot?”
You were opening your mouth to defend yourself when a shout went up from somewhere near the driveway.
Relief flooded through you as the neighbors turned and started walking towards the driveway.
A line of livestock trailers was rolling through the front gate, kicking up massive clouds of dust that billowed across the open lawn, the low rumble of diesel engines carrying across the ranch.
Instantly, everything changed. Conversations were abandoned, coffee cups got set down, cowboys swung up into their saddles.
Buckshot snorted in annoyance when you snatched him away from his hay.
There was no time for apologies. You swung into the saddle and loped toward the driveway just as your dad climbed down from his truck.
Within seconds a crowd had gathered around him.
Neighbors and friends pressing closer, listening to his wild stories and laughing. They all ran through the plan one final time. Someone cracked a joke that earned a round of laughter before the group finally broke apart and scattered to their assignments.
The organized chaos began.
Trailer doors rattled open, dogs barked, horses danced impatiently under their riders.
The first cattle bawled from inside the trailers, the sound echoing across the ranch, then they were suddenly stampeding into the chutes. The rumble of their hooves shook the ground. Daddy must have bought close to fifty in total.
You caught sight of Caleb near the front of the herd, heading them up the first hill.
He was talking to Dallas and Gideon, gesturing toward the first gate while the dogs circled nearby, keyed up and ready to work.
One heifer immediately tried to break left—Caleb was already moving.
Gigi launched beneath him, cutting across her path so smoothly it looked effortless. One hand settled on the horn of his saddle while the other worked his lariat. They turned the cow back toward the herd before it could even fully break away.
Your stomach did a little flip.
There wasn’t a person alive who could deny Caleb was beautiful, but he was something else entirely when he was working. And it wasn’t just the way his arms flexed beneath the rolled up sleeves of his work shirt.
It was the focus—the hard set of his jaw when he was concentrating. He was easy to get lost in. Thankfully, you had Bucky to drag you back into reality. He whipped his head into the herd, biting at a cow that strayed a little too far.
“You’re an asshole, Bucky.” You chided him knowing that he wasn’t listening to you.
There were far more hands than the job required, ensuring the cattle were settled into the quarantine pasture without a hitch.
The whole thing was over before you knew it.
By evening, you were back in the barn putting Buckshot to bed.
You’d finished brushing him ten minutes ago, but the quiet was nice and you weren’t particularly eager to show yourself to the crowd.
Outside, the ranch hummed with celebration. Every now and then a burst of laughter drifted through the open barn doors. Someone shouted for more firewood. A truck door slammed. The smell of woodsmoke had already begun to creep across the yard.
They were probably getting the bonfire lit and breaking out the beer by now. The picnic tables were probably all lined with enough food to feed half the county.
The thought made you smile, the sound of laughter was sweet after a long and lonely winter, and you’d join them soon…
Just not yet.
Buckshot seemed perfectly content with this arrangement. He stood quietly munching hay while you leaned against his broad rump, absently working through the last few tangles in his tail.
It didn’t take Caleb long to come looking for you.
It never did.
You could almost time it like clockwork. Sure enough, the sound of his boots echoed down the aisle and a shadow fell across the stall floor. Right on queue .
Your eyes immediately found him leaning against the stall door with his hat pushed back—still looking love struck, swooning as he took you in.
“What’re you doin’ hidin’ in here, baby?”
You sighed dramatically.
“I don’t think I can show my face again after your little stunt.”
His eyebrows shot up.
“My stunt?”
“Half the county watched you hug me in broad daylight. I’ll be out there discussing my due date with Suzanne and Alice before I can even plate my food.”
His grin only widened.
“I’m serious, Caleb. I ain’t never gonna hear the end of it.”
“Well you’re gonna have to face them eventually. Let’s go get it over with, hm?”
Caleb walked you out, tucked you tightly into his side and answered all the wondering glances with a kiss to your forehead.
The mob descended almost instantly.
Questions came from every direction.
“When’s the wedding?”
“Oh, your babies are gonna be adorable.”
Heat burned all the way to the tips of your ears as laughter erupted around the bonfire. Caleb, meanwhile seemed perfectly content to answer questions on your behalf. He was discussing venues and colors with Alice before dessert, looking like he was having the time of his life. The worst part was everyone encouraging him.
Daddy looked especially pleased. The firelight danced across his face as he watched the two of you with something like relief. Like he’d been holding his breath for years, waiting for this moment to unfold.
“‘Bout time, kiddo,” he chuckled before wrapping Caleb in a crushing one-armed hug. “Now I can officially call you my son.”
You groaned.
“Can you calm down? Let the man propose first.” You always hated how well they got along growing up. They both teamed up on you, determined to be a thorn in your side. But you also couldn’t resist how cute it was, watching the way he carried on bragging about the both of you to anyone who would listen, dragging you and Caleb around like a shiny trophy.
The night stretched on around you.
Someone broke out another case of beer, the bonfire crackled and popped beneath a cerulean sky jeweled with stars, laughter drifted across the yard, children chased each other through the grass.
Your body felt lighter than it had in years as you stood out on the lawn and looked over it all.
Out on the blue ridge you could almost see her silhouette against the setting sun, sat quietly on her favorite horse, watching over you.
You blinked a little moisture out of your eyes and she was gone. The scenery was just an endless stretch of sloping foothills once more.
Caleb's arm tightened around you. He looked at you with a shimmering gaze like he knew exactly what you were thinking and bent down to kiss the top of your head. He stayed there for a bit, lingering in your warmth and your familiar scent for awhile while the party moved around you in a blur...
TW. IRL PORN LINK!!! this is so short but it genuinely reminded me of xav so much i had to
needy xavier sends you videos like these to guilt you into coming home from work, telling you how much it hurts having to touch himself like this when his girls pretty pussy is so close by.
it’s the worst right after he returns from missions, because he’s already gone days without you near—the fact you could up and leave when he does get back is just cruel.
if you didn’t even care to stay home and take care of his relentlessly hard cock, you shouldn’t care if he does it while you’re gone right?
“wish it was that w-wet cunt instead of my hand, star”
“so hard it hurts…don’t wanna cum alone”
as annoyed as he was, he still used you to finish him off. whether it was through a facetime, using your panties to wrap around his cock, or even fucking your pillow just because it smells like you, he was never able to drain his balls without you.
it’s not like you hated it—his temper tantrums gave you an endless library of videos to watch when he did have to leave for work. you’ve lost count of how many nights you’ve spent watching them on repeat, listening to his whines and moans through your headphones with one hand down your pants. you didn’t even need the visual, his lewd noises were more than enough to get you off.
I would love a combo of everything (if possible, I know it's a lot) with Zayne pretty please
I love all of.your prompts! So hard to choose!
The good morning kiss, and "I wasn't supposed to fall in love with you" really stuck out. Any of them are 😙🤌 though
Midnight Kiss - Zayne X MC
A drunken mistake.. or is it not?
─ .✦ pre-relationship, friends to more?, feelings realization, confessions
─ .✦ word count: 1.9k
꒰ ✉︎ ꒱ for @smeetywerben - Thank you for the request!
The first thing you notice is the raging headache.
It's the reason you can't pretend to close your eyes anymore and instead decide to sit up, taking in the sight of a room you can vaguely identify yet have never found yourself in — except for in passing.
There's a slither of light that is trying to find its way into the room, gently prying into long curtains that adorn tall windows and make it easier for you to see whatever is around you.
It's.. tidy. Everything about this room looks like it's sitting right where it's meant to be; from the perfectly arranged bookshelves organized by color to the small pile of discarded clothes sitting on the edge of the bed, carefully folded some time last night when words were easier to say and actions meant more than they were supposed to.
The next thing you notice is the pain in your lower back.
It's faint at first, but when you had tried sitting up, it was definitely noticeable, making you wonder what exactly had happened the night prior for you to feel like this: as if your legs are seconds from giving out and you need to re-learn how to walk once more even though you have thought of yourself to be pretty athletic usually.
And then, there's these little.. insect-like bites you notice when glancing down at your own body, realizing in late mortification that you are not wearing anything at all and the clothes sitting on the blanket are actually yours; worn out for a night of drinks mere hours ago.
But the answer to all your questions is just right there, next to you.
A wide back, pitch black hair and deep scars scattered across arms that would usually never be in your sight had it not been for whatever happened a night ago which makes you break into a splitting headache every time you try to think about it.
That's Zayne, you notice calmly. And this is his bedroom.
Now that you think about it, this must be the first time you see him sleeping in front of you: tired eyes finally closed for once, stern lips gently parted, looking softer than you had always thought them to be and a peaceful rhythm accompanying what you hope happens to be a nice dream.
Your eyes gaze around the room in search for your phone and luckily, it seems that someone had been mindful and kind enough to make sure to charge it for you, letting you look no further than the nightstand next to you to go and reach for it.
It's still pretty early; had it not been for the horrible hangover, you are sure you would've slept in some more and tried to get some more rest that you usually don't get during the week — being busy with long missions and never-ending reports after all.
There's a couple of text messages that help you slowly piece together the puzzle called 'yesterday'; one of them coming from one of those extravagant dating apps a friend of yours managed to convince you to download after catching you complain about being lonely a couple of times too often.
The last message has been sent pretty recently, reading: 'again, so sorry about last night! Hope you made it home safe afterwards, I'll treat you to something yummy next time, promise x' and you try to desperately remember a face that goes with those words, only for the rustling of blankets to catch you off-guard instead, the panic of waking up in someone else's bedroom finally registering in your mind.
Zayne shifts a bit and you watch how the gap between the curtains manages to give way for a streak of light to hit a part of his face, his once relaxed eyebrows furrowing in response. And then, very slowly, he opens his eyes.
As if sensing something unusual happening, Zayne immediately turns around towards you, the rustle of the blanket being awfully loud until your eyes meet his and you are met with another second of silence where you to simply stare at each other without saying a word.
It takes him about ten seconds.
His eyes take in the room and the way you are currently sitting next to him before glancing down at his own body where he notices the small scratches that embellish his already existing scars. And after all that quiet analyzing, probably remembering bits of the events from last night, you notice the way he starts flushing furiously: his cheeks coloring pink and his ears looking like they are on fire as his eyes widen in late realization.
Zayne opens his mouth, then immediately closes it. He opens it once more, but the moment his eyes meet yours it's like he can't formulate his words anymore, and so you are met with another flash of silence that he isn't able to break no matter how hard he seems to try.
"..Good morning?" you try instead, attempting to break the awkwardness between you two that resulted from what you can only assume was a drunken hook-up with your one and only best friend, Zayne who happened to be on call when your 'date' cancelled on you and you were looking for someone else to have a drink with. And Zayne would never refuse your pleading eyes, no matter how tired he's been from work.
Your throat feels tight, the words coming out of your mouth raspy and sharp and Zayne immediately fetches you a glass of water that just happens to be right there next to him. Always prepared, that guy.
"Good morning," he responds with a small smile, and you notice how he has a hard time returning your gaze considering your current status of undress, "..about last night-"
"I'll be honest, I don't remember everything" you interrupt him, holding onto your head that has started throbbing once again when you try to recall anything that happened hours prior which can answer how you've ended up here, "my head feels like it's about to burst though"
"..I'll grab you something for it then."
There is something sad in that smile you can't quite put the right words behind, his eyes dimming when he looks at you and what you may want to remain as a drunken mistake made due to frustration and momentary judgment.
When he returns, Zayne is holding two cups of coffee and sits down in front of you where he watches you take the painkiller in silence before offering you his warm mug. He looks like he's deep in thought; eyebrows furrowed in a way you can immediately tell that something is on his mind that he has a hard time saying out loud to you. You nudge him gently, tilting your head in question, "Are you alright?" you whisper.
"..I'm not."
His words sound distant and maybe it's something he's doing subconsciously, but you can clearly tell the cold from his evol slowly surrounding him as if trying to put up a barrier that is getting harder and harder to break.
"What's on your mind?" you try again, closing the distance between you so he knows you are there, right next to him.
Zayne has always been quick to suppress his feelings when there's something that bothers him, putting other people before himself usually. You two have been friends for such a long time already yet you rarely see him this.. agitated? or maybe frustrated about something. And this whole situation you two have found yourself in probably is not making this any easier for him.
"..How do you want to handle this?" he asks quietly.
"What do you-"
"Do you want to pretend this was a mistake? That we got caught up in the moment and crossed a line that should've never ever been touched?" His voice is laced in hurt and you feel your heart rate picking up when you look at him and the way his eyes glaze over, "..Because if this is what you want, I.. I'll do that. You don't remember it all anyways, so let's just say this was a stupid mistake and-"
"Do you really mean that?" Your hand reaches out for his, gently patting him so he can look at you, "Is that what you think I want this to be? Something I regret?"
"We were drunk, you just got stood up from that date and I happened to be there and the mood was right. I don't want 'this'.. to destroy years of our relationship because I.." he sighs, runs his hand through his still messy hair, "Because I really treasure you and I don't want to lose you"
Little snippets of last night flash across your eyes: Zayne in full fluster, his gentle hands holding you and soft kisses peppered across your body; whispers of affection, him saying 'I've always wanted to do this' and repeated 'I love you's that at that time barely registered in your mind with how lightheaded you had started to feel, yet now make your stomach flutter like all the butterflies in the world are trying to tell you: it's him.
It's him and nobody else would ever compare.
The one who has always been by your side, no matter how hard life had gotten over the years.
The one who always makes sure to pick you up no matter how down you are feeling.
The very one who makes sure to pick up your call even when you tell him about something as simple as a no-show. How come it took you this long to notice?
"You won't lose me, Zayne" you tell him softly, "I know that things turned out differently last night, but I don't regret anything nor did I think about it as something I didn't like. I wasn't that drunk to mistake you for some kind of replacement I needed because I got stood up. You know me better than this"
"..I know," he mutters quietly, his ears slowly turning that shade of pink again, "It's just that I always wanted this to be different.. I said a lot last night and I think you don't remember even half of it"
"What's holding you back then?" you wrap the blanket that has been covering you around him, pulling him closer until your shoulders meet and you can feel how cool his skin feels on yours, "Don't you want to help me recall? I won't mind it"
"Y-you're dangerous" Zayne stutters, blushing.
"Do you hate it?" you respond with a small chuckle and watch as he shakes his head.
"Of course not"
You nudge your nose against his cheek, notice how his face tenses up but immediately starts relaxing when you plant kisses alongside his jaw, a small giggle escaping your lips when you feel how red he's starting to turn, "You are off today, aren't you?" you whisper.
He shyly answers with a nod.
"I've always thought I would be fine watching you from the side. No matter what kind of person you would start seeing, no matter what decisions you would make, I was fine with it, because at least I would be able to be around"
Your hand stops tracing his arm, and you watch him curiously, nodding for him to go on.
"I told myself that I wasn't supposed to fall in love with you, that I was fine simply staying a friend, but every moment I'm by your side I feel like I'm complete and I don't want to let you go"
"Well lucky for you, I'm not planning to leave any time soon," you giggle, wrapping your arm around his, and pressing a kiss on his lips, taking him by surprise, "You have me for life now."
“Camping?” you ask unconvinced.
“Yep! Just you and me for an entire weekend. No phones, no distractions, no random guys trying to steal you from me.”
“You’re still upset about my date with my co-worker, huh?”
“I’m not upset, I just can't believe you actually went out with him,” he says quietly, before putting on a cheerful tone again. “Sooo~ I'm just stealing you back for the weekend. Come on, Pips, it'll be fun. Marshmallows, campfires, stargazing—”
“Or we could stay home, away from bugs and creepy forests.”
“Why? Scared of being alone with me in the dark?” Caleb grins.
“Of course not. I just…, yeah, whatever, let’s go,” you give in since Caleb is really enthusiastic about this.
When you arrive, you're surprised. Fairy lights hang between the trees, surrounding a spacious, fully-equipped tent.
“You really went all out, hm?”
“Oh? Suddenly you like the wilderness? Yeah, I've protected you from all the bugs... and wolves.”
“WOLVES?” you gasp in horror.
“Awoooooo~~“ Caleb howls theatrically.
“Caleb…”
He laughs, “No wolves. I checked.”
Soon the campfire is lit, marshmallow are being roasted, Caleb shows off his guitar skills with the acoustic guitar he brought along. Between the music, the crackling campfire, and the distant chirping of crickets, the campsite feels almost magical.
Still, surrounded by nothing but darkness and trees, you can't deny it's a little creepy.
“Are you... scared?” Caleb asks, clearly more amused than concerned.
“No...,” you answer, though not very convincingly.
“Then maybe I should tell you a horror story. You know, just to change that.”
“Try me!”
“Oh-ho. Someone's feeling brave tonight. Let’s see....”
With a grin, Caleb launches into a horror story that quickly turns out to be the scariest thing you've ever heard. It doesn't help that the setting is a forest eerily similar to the one you're currently sitting in. As the campfire dies down and the two of you crawl into the tent to sleep, every distant sound outside seems louder than before, the snapping twig, rustling leaves, the wind moving through the trees.
“You're awfully close to me for someone who says she isn't scared,” Caleb says with a knowing grin.
“Okay??” you pout and scoot away, “I'll move then!! Better?”
To your surprise, Caleb lets you.
“Good. I need to check something outside anyway. You'll be okay alone for a minute, right?”
“YOU’RE LEAVING ME??”
“Just a minute.”
You hear him moving around outside for a few moments.
Then silence.
“Caleb?”
No answer.
“Caleb, stop messing around.”
Nothing.
A knot forms in your stomach.
“Okay, this isn't funny anymore… Caleb?”
Still no response.
Just as you're about to unzip the tent, footsteps approach from outside. The zipper slides open: It's Caleb.
Relief hits you so hard that you immediately burst into tears.
“Aww, Pips,” Caleb pats your head, “Were you really that scared without me?”
“How far did you go?!”
„Not far! I’ve heard you call my name. “
"What? You... heard me?”
"Of course as I said, I wasn’t that far.”
"Then… why didn't you answer?"
The corner of Caleb's mouth curled upward in a faint smirk. It wasn't his usual teasing grin, there was something different about it, something that made a chill creep down your spine.
“Because,” he says while brushing a tear from your cheek, “you sound so cute when you're scared.”
You stare at him, not knowing what to respond.
“You know, I picked a pretty remote spot,” his arm slides around your waist.
“No signal. No other campers. No trails nearby.”
Something about the satisfaction in his voice makes your stomach flip.
“Just you and me.”
His words didn’t sound romantic, they sounded… threatening.
Caleb's lips curve into a small smile.
“Isn't that nice?”
Before you can answer, he pulls you closer against his chest.
“You think your co-worker would've gone through this much effort just for one weekend alone with you?” He brushes a strand of hair from your face and tucks it behind your ear.
“You know, if you screamed out here,” he says quietly, “nobody would hear you.”
His hand tilts your chin up.
“Look at me.”
His tone is gentle, yet it terrifies you. You meet his eyes and immediately wish you hadn't. The look on his face is unfamiliar, for the first time, Caleb genuinely scares you.
“Do you know how long I've waited for you to look at me like that?”
His thumb strokes your jaw before he lowers you onto your back and begins to undress you, watching you shiver from the cold as you lie naked on the floor of the tent.
“And you're going to fill this entire forest with my name, you hear me?”
Xavier must pay his dues to the Queen with his service.
CW: Sexually explicit content
tags: Femdom, striptease, body worship, sub leaning switch!Xavier, hand kink, glove kink, teasing, grinding, Xavier is a fucking genie with how he chooses to listen
Read on AO3 or under the cut!
Her hand hovers in the air before him, eyes full of steel.
"The proper way to greet a queen, is with a kiss," she states. He knows this, of course. Despite his solitude, Xavier has never lost the knowledge of etiquette from his royal upbringing.
Eyes like a night sky flash with light, a shooting star across a clear horizon.
He kneels. Heavy leather gloves holding her fingers with the tenderness one might use to gently brush a butterfly off their shoulder in a summer breeze. Despite the fabric between them, she can swear she feels the heat emanating from his skin.
Lips press delicately to her ring. Xavier's long hair slips from behind his ear, tickling against her wrist and shielding him from her view.
"Of course, My Queen. How may I be of service?" His soft voice whispers down her spine, and her fingers stiffen in his grasp.
The air she breathes weighs heavily in her chest, as if each breath carried the burden of Xavier's devotion. She withdraws her fingers and looks down on his kneeling form; his strict posture, the way his shoulders sagged almost imperceptibly under the weight of his armor, the heat of the blue flame in his gaze; hers to command.
"You may rise." Her tone is measured, lips carefully forming each word she speaks to him so that he may memorize and treasure each of them.
Xavier stands, his heavy garments dragging along the ground and rustling as he moves. She turns, the hem of her dress swishing in accompaniment. Taking a deep breath to embolden herself, she walks towards the bed. As she reaches the foot of the bed, she turns her head. Xavier stands where he had risen, not at attention, but with the composure of a soldier.
"Undress me." She commands,facing back away from him. She can hear his footsteps crossing the room, weighty but not clumsy.
"As you wish, My Queen." The words caress the shell of her ear as his hands rest lightly on her shoulders. The leather of his gloves creaks gently as his fingers curve to fit the shape of her.
The cool texture of the gloves grazes over her collarbone as he slides his fingers beneath the clasp that sits settled in the hollow of her throat. It comes undone with a soft click, and he lifts the cape up and away from her shoulders. He places it to the side with a reverent air, letting the long, sheer fabric slide through his hand with a hiss.
Returning to her, his hands grasp her upper arm. He runs his fingers down her skin, one hand coming to rest beneath her elbow, the other continuing onward to hold her gloved hand. Xavier delicately pinches her middle finger, sliding the material of the glove down the digit.
The hinges of his gauntlet rasp gently as he flexes his fingers; points of cold metal catching on the soft satin fabric of the glove. Her fingers tremble as the glove comes away with a hiss, gently tickling over her wrist and palm. Xavier's large fingers, made even more bulky by his glove and gauntlet, hold her delicately.
The glove slides away, revealing her hand, fingers more calloused and worn than those of a queen ought to be, by any means. The hands of someone used to wielding a sword, of someone thrust into royalty; not born into it. The pads of Xavier's fingers catch on the callouses, guiding her hand up to his eyes and taking in each line as if divining a future in each mark and crease. Candlelight flickers, warming her skin and glinting off the worn points of his gauntlet.
He leans over her shoulder, long hair tickling her collarbone, and kisses the tip of each finger. The first kiss makes her breath hitch in surprise. The second, the air shudders out of her chest. The third and forth each accompany another jagged inhale and exhale. He turns her hand to kiss her thumb and his tongue darts out to slide against her fingernail before enveloping the digit with his lips up to the first knuckle.
She swallows hard, knees wobbling. Her eyelids are heavy with lust as she turns her head to the side, looking away from his display of calculated subservience. Her hand lowers and the warmth of his body behind her disappears as he steps away, the ghost of his touch lingering as she flexes her hand.
Xavier folds the glove with the same sense of ceremony as the cape, placing it gently to the side before repeating every painstaking action on her other hand. Removing the glove, admiring each section of her skin like a jeweller inspecting the facets of a gem, and delicately kissing the tip of each finger. He remains quiet throughout, the sounds of their combined breathing filling the space with warm tension.
Stiff leather slides down her spine, gloved fingers looping through the ties of her dress and undoing the knot. She feels the ease of the fabric as the ties loosen around her ribs. The sound of silk ribbon sliding over steel whispers over her senses like a soothing hush.
Her back is bare as the dress falls away. It pools on the ground in a ripple of white fabric, like the reflection of a full moon on a pond. The cool air on her bare skin makes her shiver for a moment. She looks back over her shoulder, chin raised to watch him through her lower lashes. He awaits further instruction with a leashed desire burning in his deep blue eyes. She turns her whole body, bare with the exception of her bejewelled shoes.
Her feet step gingerly out of the dress, moving towards him with imperious clicks of her heels. He kneels dutifully, allowing her to perch her foot on the muscles of his thigh. His eyes are dark as he looks up at her; a lunar eclipse in a clear night sky. Her chest heaves, nipples pebbling on her bare breasts.
His hands move to the clasps on her shoe; impossibly dexterous as they unfasten the clasp lying against her ankle. Beaded straps fall away as his hand slides the shoe off her foot, they tickle against the arch of her foot and catch slightly on her toes.
A leather-gloved hand escorts her calf until her foot returns to the ground. He takes her other foot; metal gauntlet careful not to pinch her sensitive skin as he unclasps the fastener. Before he places it back on the ground, he brings her foot to his lips, ghosting a kiss over the top of her foot with his eyes fixed on her face.
She swallows as she meets his gaze with heat burning in her eyes. Her foot touches the cold floor, grounding her in this moment where only she and Xavier exist. Their breath synchronizes, lingering between them.
After a moment, she breaks the silence. She looks away, flexing her jaw, and points towards the closet.
"Fetch my dressing gown. This room is cold." Her eyes steal another look towards Xavier, butterflies flapping their wings rapidly in her stomach as she tries to gauge his reaction. Xavier rises, armor clinking against itself as he stands and moves across the room to fetch the gauzy purple dressing gown.
He returns, holding apart the shoulders and sliding the sleeves up her arms. His hands linger on her collarbone as he sets the garment on her. A gentle caress pulls her hair out to lie atop the back of the gown, making her earrings tinkle softly in her ears.
Strong hands slide down her waist, pulling the sash tight and fastening it with a perfect bow above her hip. He holds his hands there, so close to where he wants them to be. She may be strong, but he's far stronger than her. He could easily use those hands to dig into the flesh of her hips, to move her against him, to take her to bed and hold her hostage against his body until she begged him to let her free. Instead, they squeeze softly, once, as if testing the idea for themselves before retreating back into perfect obedience at Xavier's sides.
She steps away from him, exhilaration whirling through her as she keeps her flushed face turned away from his view. She pads up to the bed, taking a moment to gather her composure before turning back to watch him. She sits on the ottoman at the base of the bed and crosses her legs.
"Undress yourself," she commands, "Let me see."
Xavier smirks a bit as he meets her eye. "Of course. Whatever the queen desires."
The first thing he removes is his gloves; when he wears them they're pliable, dexterous, able to wield tools and to nimbly undo delicate fastenings. Only when he pulls them free is it apparent how heavy they weigh on him. Leather and studs and clinking plates of mail slide from his wrists and fall to the ground with hefty thuds. Pale hands peek from his sleeves, indented with pink seams from the gloves. He idly massages his palms in turn, glancing up to see her eyes fixed on the movement.
Xavier lets out a single chuffed chuckle. He kneels slowly to pick up the gloves, emphasizing each movement and turning them over in his hands. He steps towards her, chin raised in an impetuous display. She raises her eyebrows as her gaze moves up to his face.
"Something amusing?"
"Not at all. Your Majesty is quite obvious in revealing her proclivities." He smiles, a cheeky smile, and brings his hand to his own mouth. He maintains eye contact as he presses his thumb down on his lower lip, sliding his tongue along the tip of his fingernail. His smirk widens and his eyes dart down, taking in the sight of her flushed chest and bobbing throat; utterly transfixed at the sight.
Her eyes flash back up to meet his, steely and full of expectant arrogance. She snatches the gloves from his hand, covering his thumb with the gusset of the glove before kissing the leather softly. He startles, eyes widening as the ghost of her breath caresses his cheek. She withdraws with a coy smile.
"If that's so," she challenges, fingers trailing across the raised pattern on his metal gauntlet, "then you ought to be quite capable of keeping my attention."
Xavier doesn't back down; he keeps his eyes fixed on hers as he steps back, and slides his thumb in a line down his chin. He draws it down the center of his throat, and catches it beneath his collar, unfastening his cloak and letting it fall to the ground behind him. He watches as her eyes follow the movement, self-satisfaction playing on his lips.
His other hand settles at the buttons on his abdomen, fingers twining through the chains that lie atop his doublet. His index finger twirls spirals along the length of the chain until it draws tight and slips off the button at his waist. His thumb worries against the buttons before smoothly unfastening them. The coat opens, revealing the dark, skintight undershirt.
"I'm getting impatient, at this rate I'm going to need to entertain myself at this rate." She barely conceals her excitement, goading him. The pads of her fingers catch on the prominent ridge along the center of his gauntlet, sliding a decisive finger along it's length and raising her eyebrow up at him.
"I wouldn't want Your Majesty to lack proper stimulation," he agrees. His fingers twitch with a phantom response as he watches her fingernail catch on each hinge on the joints of the gauntlet.
She shifts, sliding the gauntlet between her legs, and positioning her core atop the long ridge in the center. The metal feels cold against the heat of her dripping folds, even through the flimsy fabric of her gown. She settles onto it; clit perched against the raised metal filigree on the arm of the gauntlet. Her eyes flutter as she grinds down, arousal soaking through the thin material of the dressing gown. A soft groan escapes her lips as she furrows her brow and concentrates back on the man before her.
A pink blush blooms up Xavier's neck and tinges his pale ears, which peek through his long strands of ash blond hair. His eyes are wide, soaking in the sight of her.
"I didn't tell you to stop yet," she reminds him, angling her hips and pulling her legs up beneath her to properly straddle the gauntlet. Xavier swallows hard, watching her hips slide down the length of it and streak the metal with her juices. He blinks to refocus, looking back into her eyes with determination.
His doublet is open at the chest and he slowly slides one arm out, then the other. The dark undershirt clings to his muscled arms and chest; outlining the planes of his body in the low light. His pants cinch at his waist, the fly now tight against his hardening length.
Xavier kneels again, sliding his hands down his thigh to the buckles of his greaves. The leather hisses through the fastener as it loosens and comes away. The metal releases from his shin and he stands to step out of his boot. The muscles of his calf flex as his pointed toes clear the top of the shoe and he gingerly steps back down, repeating the action on his other leg. His hands draw up the skintight leggings from the knee, unbuckling the leather garter belts encircling his muscular thighs. His fingers slide beneath the strap and his leg, making the meat of his thigh balloon slightly as he curls his fingers into a hook to pull it down his leg.
His hands cross at his waist, slipping beneath the waistband of his pants to find the hem of his shirt.
"Stop." Her voice is breathy as she squeezes her thighs around the gauntlet, eyes hungry. Her wide eyes devour the sight of him like a starving woman presented with a feast. Her hand slides up her abdomen to cup her breast. Her chest heaves as her fingers tweak her nipple through the fabric of her dressing gown. "That's enough."
Xavier raises an eyebrow but stays silent, smoothing down his shirt and waiting for her instruction. His light hair falls on his chest like silk tassels on a tapestry; they drape over him, adorning him like he himself is a part of this ancient bastion of forgotten times.
She leans back, beckoning with one finger as she slides up onto the bed. Xavier follows, stalking up to the bed with a predatory gleam in his eye. A thrill races through her,and her fingers clench against the plush fabric of the duvet. Her thighs slowly fall apart,making space for him. Outstretched fingers cup his face once he's in reach, thumb smoothing a line along his cheekbone.
"I await Your Majesty's orders." The words are saturated with coils of rippling desire, his azure irises engulfed in glimmering night.
Her fingers slide up his face to weave into his hair, clenching at the roots of his silky, ashen locks.
"You may taste me, until I find your mouth unsatisfactory." Her eyes are dark with hunger as she looks down on him.
Xavier licks his lips, a slight smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. "I should hope that means I remain here all night, My Queen."
He leans in and kisses her throat, tongue darting out to catch a bead of sweat and savouring it on his tongue. She shivers as his breath ghosts over her hot skin. With her hands still woven into his hair, she insistently pushes his head lower, beginning to get impatient.
"Your Majesty said I could taste her… is something the matter?" His tone is impish, eyes flicking to her face while stubbornly refusing to follow the guidance of her hand. He turns his head towards her outstretched arm, his tongue snaking out to lick a small wet circle on her forearm. "This part of you tastes delicious as well."
His eyes trail to hers sidelong, challenging her. Tongue sliding back over his own plush lips, pushing her so she tells him exactly what she wants; that she wants him, that she needs him.
Steel glints in her eyes, their resolves clash like crossed swords. Her eyes catch on a subtle hint behind his teasing gaze, and she softens. Redirecting to cooperate with him; swords flourishing to point in the same direction.
"In that case, you should be thorough." Her fingers loosen their grip on his hair while the other hand unties the sash at her waist. The robe falls open. The fabric catches on her pebbled nipples, making her inhale sharply and wince at the sensation.
Xavier's eyes feast on her body before him, swallowing hard. He glances back up to her, a moment of conflicted victory flashing across his eyes. He doesn't linger on it too long, dipping his head in a minuscule bow, "Thank you, Your Majesty."
His soft voice whispers over her senses, settling low in her stomach. She clenches her thighs around his waist and swallows hard. She doesn't have time to recover as Xavier's lowered head nestles against her chest and his lips encircle her nipple. She squeezes her eyes shut as he sucks and licks, tongue flicking and circling until her fingers clench in his hair.
He moves to the other breast, lavishing his tongue over it with equal attention to detail. He sucks against her skin; blossoming hickeys following his lips like a field of flowers coming into bloom. His tongue moves diligently over her skin, maliciously compliant with her remark that he should be thorough. Her back arches as his lips trail down her collarbone, her breath hitches as he kisses a ticklish spot along her ribs. She tenses, stomach twitching, as his lips trace a line down her abdomen, pausing at her belly button to look up at her with dark, hungry eyes.
He moves down her body, licking the sweat off her skin. His hair falls over her like a curtain, ensconcing him in privacy as he completes the tasting menu of her body. She writhes beneath him; almost delirious from the teasing. She bites her tongue, unwilling to cry out his name or beg for what she really wants. Her fingers sink into the plush cover on the bed, gripping into the fabric to ground herself from the soft affections of Xavier's lips.
Finally, he kneels on the ottoman at the base of the bed, eyes fixed on her face as he kisses her inner thigh. Her walls flutter around nothing as she props herself up on her elbows to watch him, mesmerized and out of breath. His gaze never leaves her face as he kisses his way up her inner thigh until his breath is puffing over her soaking wet slit.
He waits there a moment: one more chance for her to break and beg him to take her. His nose twitches as he inhales the scent of her. He swallows hard as his mouth waters.
That's what does it for her; the sight of Xavier's desire glistening in his eyes and dripping from his lips.
"I need you, I need your mouth to-!" She doesn't even get the full sentence out before he cuts off her pleading with a swipe of his tongue. Her eyes squeeze shut and a small sound escapes her lips, fingers clenching in the bedsheets again as Xavier dives into her.
As soon as the taste of her is on his tongue, his whole body melts in relief; like an over-tuned piano string that finally snapped. He groans into her, hips rutting against the foot of the bed as he hoists her legs above his shoulders for more leverage. She squeaks in surprise as she slides down the bed towards him.
Xavier's hands dig into the plush curve of her hips and ass, squeezing as he desperately claws her closer to him. He buries his face between her thighs; tongue making long strokes through her folds and slurping messily at her clit. She bucks against his face, trying to get leverage with her heels along his back. They slip against the fabric of his shirt, serving only to press her core more firmly against Xavier's nose and mouth. He groans into her, making her tremble, walls twitching around nothing.
She feels drawn tight, like a bowstring. He keeps his pacing, relentless as he devours her. Her toes flex, calf muscles tensing and spasming as her gasps increase in frequency and pitch.
Xavier is single-minded, his whole body dedicated to the task of exploring and pleasuring every inch of skin between her legs. His grip readjusts as he pulls her closer, nose nudging over her clit and sending sparks through her senses. His hair falls between them, tickling at the back of her thighs.
His tongue delves inside her, swirling and nudging her open before withdrawing. She jerks against him, her body aching for him to be deeper, for them to somehow be closer. She whines in frustration and squeezes her thighs around his head as he sucks on her clit.
Xavier lets out a breathless chuckle, but doesn't stop. His movements become more precise; driving her towards her climax with every swipe and kiss. She gasps as that tightness grows inside her, drawing further, further…
Until it releases.
Her back arches, and she stifles a scream. Xavier drinks at her, swallowing as she releases all over his mouth. He groans, vibrations buzzing over her sensitive nerves earning another twitch against his nose. He plants his lips on her, kissing and sucking as she comes down from her high but not stopping.
She blearily looks down to see him still eagerly licking through her puffy folds. Her brow furrows and she pushes back his bangs with her fingers. Xavier's eyes flash up at her like a wild animal guarding its meal.
Her fingers draw back, startled and she clears her throat. "Xavier…?"
He kisses her inner thigh, licking his lips before he speaks. "Your Majesty said I could taste her until she find my mouth unsatisfactory." Cobalt eyes glint with steel resolve, "It certainly seems like she still finds it satisfactory."
"You can't -!" Her plea is cut off as Xavier's teeth graze over her swollen clit, sending sparks through her vision.
"Your Majesty… there's no need to lie to me. Not when your body is so honest."
She grits her teeth, fighting back tears of overstimulation as he parts her pussy lips with his tongue, circling and swirling with an almost cruel vigor. He teases her: kissing softly before sucking hard. Her feet continue to fight for purchase on his back to push away from him but his fingers keep a firm, bruising grip on her hips.
Her orgasm crests into a second, less impressive, one. Waves of pleasure shudder up her spine as she groans, head tossed to the side.
Xavier doesn't stop.
She weakly smacks against the top of his head, he glances up at her mischievously.
"Your Majesty?"
Her eyelids are heavy as she looks down at him with a drunken gaze. "No more."
"I see… My mouth is unsatisfactory, is that it?" He prompts her. She nods. He lowers her to the bed, her legs flopping bonelessly to the side as he perches with his chin above her stomach. "If that's the case…"
The stretch of his fingers is so unexpected that she clamps down on them. Shock plays over her features as her walls twitch around the intrusion, finally feeling the fullness she had so craved. Xavier smirks as he whispers, "I should make sure to keep the Queen's attention."
His fingers curl and she comes again. His long digits reaching deep inside to that spongy spot that makes her unravel. He beckons her orgasm along with his movements, thumb circling her abused clit. Tears prick the corners of her eyes and she keens as her body spasms.
Xavier watches her body heave and twitch beneath him with a gaze saturated in lust. He licks his lips once more, desperate for any trace of her left on his skin. He withdraws his fingers, waiting until her eyes are back on him to suck them into his mouth to clean them off.
She's panting for breath, unable to muster any more arousal despite the erotic display that he puts on for her. Her body is covered in sweat and saliva, the air between them suffused with the smell of sex. Her fingers idly wind through his hair as she catches her breath.
"Is Your Majesty satisfied with my service?" He teases, voice cracking slightly.
She closes her eyes and nods, pulling him up to nestle into her chest.
"Entirely satisfied." She affirms.
His breathy chuckle wafts over her skin as he kisses her once more on the chest, wrapping his arms around her and nuzzling into her skin.
dividers by @/saradika-graphics
A/N
THIS IS FOR MY LOVE @gondowan WHO INSPIRED MANY OF THE HORNY BITS AND WHOSE REACTIONS TO EVERY SNIPPET MADE ME KEEP GOING TO MAKE THIS???? FOUR THOUSAND WORDS???
anyways (✪‿✪) hope yall enjoy ahaha
If you love Xavier..stop what you're doing and read this rIGHT NOW. THE TENSION. THE FACT THAT HE'S LISTENING TO YOUR ORDERS BECAUSE HE WANTS TO AND IS HAPPY TO BUT IS ALSO NOT ABOVE TEASING YOU THE ENTIRE FUCKING TIMEEEEEEE
SO MANY SENTENCES DEDICATED TO HIS HANDS. THEY SHOULD BE IN ME RN!!!!!!!
Eyes like a night sky flash with light, a shooting star across a clear horizon.
He kneels.
just the concept of him kneeling in front of you alsdkjalksdjfalksjfd GHGHHHH THE SOFT FEMDOM OF IT ALL. HE LISTENS BECAUSE HE WANTS TO OBEY.
Returning to her, his hands grasp her upper arm. He runs his fingers down her skin, one hand coming to rest beneath her elbow, the other continuing onward to hold her gloved hand. Xavier delicately pinches her middle finger, sliding the material of the glove down the digit.
Enter, my big glove kink. Addi I owe you my life. The reference to the ring!!! AJHHJ!!!
The glove slides away, revealing her hand, fingers more calloused and worn than those of a queen ought to be, by any means. The hands of someone used to wielding a sword, of someone thrust into royalty; not born into it. The pads of Xavier's fingers catch on the callouses, guiding her hand up to his eyes and taking in each line as if divining a future in each mark and crease. [...]
He leans over her shoulder, long hair tickling her collarbone, and kisses the tip of each finger. The first kiss makes her breath hitch in surprise. The second, the air shudders out of her chest. The third and forth each accompany another jagged inhale and exhale. He turns her hand to kiss her thumb and his tongue darts out to slide against her fingernail before enveloping the digit with his lips up to the first knuckle.
Yeah I can't breathe. How did you know I have a thing for kisses on fingers. Good lord. And the slow measured way he's going about it???? TAKE OFF YOUR CLOTHES RN XAVIER.
Stiff leather slides down her spine, gloved fingers looping through the ties of her dress and undoing the knot.
my brain is tingling
"Something amusing?"
"Not at all. Your Majesty is quite obvious in revealing her proclivities." He smiles, a cheeky smile, and brings his hand to his own mouth. He maintains eye contact as he presses his thumb down on his lower lip, sliding his tongue along the tip of his fingernail. His smirk widens and his eyes dart down, taking in the sight of her flushed chest and bobbing throat; utterly transfixed at the sight.
I'm dead and this has killed me. When y'all do Chinese ancestor worship please make sure to burn a copy of this fic for me so I can read it in the afterlife.
gOD AND THEN SHE RIDES HIS JFC AND THEN THE ADDITION OF MORE COWGIRL AND THE WAY HE'S LIKE "UWU YOUR HIGHNESS IS THIS SATISFACTORY?" AGH YES IT IS XAVIER YOU FUCKING FUCK.
GOD I WISH I COULD WRITE LIKE THIS. SUSTAINING THE TENSION FOR ONE SCENE OVER 4K WORDS??? HOT. YES. MORE.
ADDI YOU WILL BE HEARING FROM ME. THIS IS A THREAT.
