synopsis: after being cheated on over a year ago, and being hung up on it for way too long, your friends finally convince you to hit the town with them. you end up at a dive bar, meeting abby, and end up going home with her - 2 parter.
cw: this is just a plot for porn, mentions of past cheating, sensual content, teasing, making out, dirty talk, pet names, innuendos, grinding, dry humping, abby calls reader a slut, thinking about sex, mischaracterizes vi for the plot
word count: 4.1k
!!men dni!!
“Dina, I really don’t wanna come with y’all tonight.” you call from your bed as you see the girl walking towards your door, drawing a sad "I didn’t even say anythin’ yet!” from your best friend. For the past several months, your entire friend group has been insistent on you joining them on their nights out to the dive bar just out of the city, despite your many protests.
“Oh come on, you don’t even have to drink just come out ‘n have fun. You’ve been depriving yourself from a good time over what? Vi, it’s been like a year girl.”
“She has a point,” Dina’s girlfriend now joining her in your doorway. “You’re only sidin’ with her ‘cause you’re datin’.”
Ellie looks at you, offended. “Excuse you, I have my own opinions, they just usually align with hers. You need to out yourself back out there and quit bein’ so gloomy. You could meet your wife tonight!”
“Oh please, This ain’t some romance story Ellie, I’ll get there and immediately wanna go home. Besides, the bar y’all go to is where we saw it happen.”
Concern etches across Dina's face and she gently nudges Ellie to go back outside so she can have a one on one with you. The door closing with a soft click behind her as she enters the room fully, sitting next to you on your bedspread;
“Look, I know you saw Vi makin’ out with that one chick on the dance floor. And I know how much it destroyed you, but it’s been well over a year. Fuck Vi, she ain’t a part of your life no more. You can’t let her control it.” she gives you a genuine smile, squeezing your hand tightly, “You know I’m doin’ this cuz I hate seein’ you all mopey, right?”
“I know Dina. I really do appreciate it, truly.” you give your best friend a hug, “I’ll consider it. I mean you’re right, 'bout the whole Vi thing. Fuck her and that blue haired bitch.”
“‘Course I am. Plus they have a mechanical bull with a ‘best times’ board now.” That might be just what wins you over; “You serious?”
“Hell yes I am. Girl I know you did rodeos as a kid, you need to show all of us how to do it the right way.”
“Well help me find somethin’ to wear!” you exclaim, standing up from your bed.
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The Uber drops the three of you off in a dusty parking lot of a worn down looking building, country music seeping from the doors. You step out of the sleek black civic—which looks insanely out of place as people slam the doors of rusty trucks and dingy cars from the ranchers pull into the already full lot. You take a deep breath, calming both your nerves and the threat of your heart beating out of your chest.
“C’mon, let’s get in there, Cat ‘n the rest of ‘em are at a table.” Dina smiles, walking hand in hand with Ellie, the two of then sickeningly sweet. Ellie calls your name as you stay put behind them, “You comin’ or standing out here all night?”
You look down at your much-too-clean cowboy boots, any rancher in the joint will know you’re from the city. Your miniskirt and belt suddenly don’t seem as cute as they were when you put them on. “I look like I don’t belong in there,” the protest falls flat on your friends’ ears. Dina rolls her eyes and walks over to you, “We’re basically regulars, an’ we all look a bit too polished for this place anyways.” she hooks her arm in yours, “Don’t be nervous, you’ll have fun tonight, I promise.”
Ellie holds the door open for you both, and you file into the dimly-lit bar. Your eyes scan the place trying to find everyone, which proves difficult given that it’s a Friday night and all the tables are filled with groups of people around your age.
“‘Scuse me darlin’.” You hear a soft, unfamiliar voice and a warm hand finds itself on your shoulder as a woman and man pass behind you. You can't help it when your eyes follow them, both in worn out hats, flannels, and boots. The woman’s long blonde hair pulled back in a braid, and her voice definitely doesn’t match her appearance. This woman is built. When she finds her table, she swiftly takes her hat off for a moment, veins in her hand popping as she holds the crown of it. Her bicep bulges as she places it back on her head. You find yourself biting your lip, and then you see her side profile, she’s absolutely gorgeous. Your heart flutters, and she looks at you. Flushing, you quickly avert your gaze.
“Hey, you okay?” Dina's voice tinged with worry, her hand resting on your arm. You turn around, cheeks a bit hot, “What? Yeah no I’m fine.” Dina’s face changes from concern to curiosity, she looks past your shoulder to the pair that just walked in. She looks back at you, a grin forming on her face, “Oh you horny bitch. The first girl you see in here gives you attention and you’re all hot.” she nudges you playfully. “Ugh don’t make it a thing. I can think someone’s attractive and not want to sleep with them. And she just walked past, there was no attention.” your objection only digging yourself a deeper hole.
"Oh don't you lie, she's the definition of your type," she shakes her head, “and she was totally eyeing your ass when you turned to me.” She drags you over to where Ellie is now seated with the rest of your group.
Many variations of ‘never thought i’d see you in a bar again’ are thrown around as you and Dina slide into the booth. Once settled in, you casually look over at the bar to see what you want to drink. You never end up looking at the menu, instead, you notice the same woman staring at you and this time it’s her that looks away, cheeks pink. Ellie kicks your shin, mocking you: “‘My life ain’t a romance novel’ my ass.”
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A few drinks in, you’re feeling a light buzz as the conversations overlap at your table. Your eyes glance past the bar to the mechanical bull Dina was telling you about earlier, landing on a shabby chalkboard nailed into the wall—the 5 columns in ascending order from 17 seconds to well over a minute. You nudge your best friend, gesturing to the number at the top of the board:
Best Times:
1:27 - Abby
“There ain't no way someone’s stayed on that long.”
“I’ve never seen anyone beat that score. But I reckon she comes on a different night than us. We all came in recently and it was there already. But your eye candy’s come real close to it.”
“Oh shush” you swat at the brunette’s shoulder, slightly embarrassed. “Bet i could beat that seventeen on the bottom though.” Naturally, when someone finally suggests that the group head to the back and get in line for the bull, you’re practically the first to your feet. The talking continues as the group of you walk to the back of the bar, in order to get to the bull, you and the others pass that woman’s table. You overhear a quick and strained, “y’all shut up, don’t even think about it,” from the same voice as earlier and her table falls strangely quiet. You can't help but hope she was talking about you.
A mix of ranchers and a few city folks make up the decently sized line that wraps around the barrier of the ring. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice the blonde woman and a couple friends standing up and joining, ending up a few people down the line from you. The excitement in the room builds as everyone attempts to stay on the machine. To absolutely no one’s surprise, most of your group wipes out in under ten seconds, making you all the more determined to stay on for over seventeen. You're the last of your group to go, cheers coming from your friends who have found themselves in a nearby booth.
With a wave of confidence you swing yourself onto the bull, not at all graceful but you don’t care that much. Your forearm flexes as you grab the rein, looping it around your hand. The bull starts rocking, your hips and thighs tensing to keep yourself upright. After a few moments, you get the hang of it, moving with the rhythm of the bull. Ten seconds in, your friends' cheers get louder and you get a bit cocky as you notice that woman’s eyes watching you intensely.
You decide to put on a bit of a show; your back arching much more than necessary, exaggerating the bounce of your hips on the saddle. At sixteen seconds you’re bucked off the machine and land on the padded surface, a soft huff escaping your lungs from the impact, as well as from frustration at your time. “It was hot ‘til ya toppled over. ‘S all in the thighs darlin'. Gotta ride it like you mean it.” You tilt your head upwards, seeing the blonde woman leaning casually against the barrier, her braid falls across her shoulder as she looks down at you, expression smug. Her accent is deeper, with much more of a drawl than that of your friends or your own.
“Just gonna lecture me or are ya gonna help me get up?” you prop yourself up on your elbows and tug your black tube top up a bit, earning you a chuckle. “Can’t get up by yourself?” her hand reaches down and you take it. One arm easily pulling you off the padding. You hold eye contact with her, noticing how blue her eyes are. “You’re irritatin’.” you bite back playfully. A staff member shoos you out of the ring, cutting the conversation short. You pass the woman as you walk towards your friends, her voice stopping you;
“Y’think i’m irritatin’ cuz ya know I can do better than ya or cuz y’think I’m hot?”
“So she’s a total ass.” you sit down and lean onto the table your friends now occupy, sounding a bit exasperated but you'd be lying if you said you hated the banter. “That’s not what it looked like. At all.” Dina’s tone blunt yet teasing, Ellie nods her head and Cat adds “there was chemistry” before she begins standing up along with the rest of the group, although Dina stays seated with you.
“Where’re y’all goin’?” your brow furrows, “Back t’our table…” Ellie looks at you like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, your eyes flicker over her shoulder and you get a glimpse of that blonde woman’s blue eyes watching you once again.
“Why don’t we jus’ stay here?” you suggest, your eyes trailing down the woman’s body, noticing her thick, muscular thighs. Heat spreads throughout your centre as you imagine those thighs around your head. You quickly wet your bottom lip as your eyes travel back to your friends, who are all looking at you with knowing gleams in their eyes; “What? it’s closer to the dance floor. And the bar. And someone’s probably taken it already.” Ellie’s eyes narrow as she sits back down, “Mhm you keep tellin’ yourself that.” You look back over and see the woman shrugging her flannel off before getting into the ring, handing the worn green shirt to her friend. Her muscles now fully shown off in her wife pleaser, your throat dries up.
With one strong arm she grabs the reins, swinging her leg over the bull with practiced ease, boots slipping into the stirrups. Her free hand holds the crown of her hat as the machine jolts to life. You bite the inside of your cheek, eyes focused on the movement of her hips and he ttensing of her arm muscles. She catches you staring with your mouth somewhat agape and smirks, taking her hat off to let it wave with her free arm. Stray hairs that never made it into the braid fall in front of her eyes and you desperately want to push them out of the way. When she does so herself, still looking at your table, you bite your lip at the stretch of her tricep.
The machine swings her so her back is towards you now, lats flexing as she holds onto the bull. It’s been about thirty seconds now and she begins showing off, overly exaggerating the roll of her hips. Your mind wanders but you feign annoyance to your friends once it goes on for longer than needed.
“Ugh, it’s like a male bird.” you scoff lightly, still watching the woman. “As if you haven’t been eye fuckin’ her. Whatever she’s doin’, it’s clearly workin’ on you,” Cat is smirking as she speaks, the remark causes you some degree of embarrassment. “I have not been eye fuckin’ her,”
“Really?” Dina begins, adding on to Cat's comment, “'Cause it looked like you were gonna cum on the spot." Your cheeks flush; “It’s just impressive. And she’s like ripped. Plus she’s been on the thing for too damn long.”
“You’re only mad 'cause she’s been on it longer than you,” Dina points out, and she’s not wrong, everyone knows you’ve got a competitive streak. “That too.” you shrug.
As your friends persist with the comments, your embarassment increases by a tenfold and you desperately hope for a change in topic;
“Y’all want shots? I’ll buy.” That does the trick, everyone agreeing and you head over to the bar.
_________________________________
As the night progresses, the music goes from country to club, the dance floor getting more and more packed. Dina and you decide it’s probably a good time to join the floor. You turn to Cat, who usually ends up being your designated dance partner, to see if she’s down. Dina tries getting her girlfriend to come with the three of you as you get up to dance, Ellie reluctantly caves in and the four of you head over to the dance floor.
House music fills the room, the boom sending vibrations through the floor. You and Dina look at each other and smile, pulling the other two women onto the floor with you. Voices sing along, bodies bump into bodies, and eyes meet eyes. You grind on Cat as she cheers you on, holding your hips as laughter falls from both of your lips.
The same blue eyes that have been following you around all night meet yours, the woman leaning against the wall opposite to the dance floor. There’s heat behind this gaze, it’s unwavering. Your movements slowing under it. She licks her lips before the moment is interrupted by excited bodies slamming into each other as the song transitions.
You turn towards your friends as the songs transition, booming through the speakers, everyone now yelling the lyrics. When the feeling of eyes on you hits again. This time you don’t even check if the blonde is watching, you just start twerking to the beat of the song, both friends and other patrons around you cheering.
After a couple songs, you’re breathing hard and thirsty as hell. “I’m g’na go grab some water.” you let your friends know before slipping off to the corner of the bar by the wall, a cooler and glasses available for those who need—you fill a glass and lean against the wall, the cool liquid feeling pleasant as it passes your lips. A now familiar figure appears in the corner of your eye.
“Was’at your first time?” the woman asks as she steps in front of you, one hand resting on the wall next to your head. Her other is grabbing a glass and pressing the lever on the cooler with her index finger, a low thrum returning to your core as you watch the ease with which she performs the action. “What?” you ask, looking at her amused face, her hand drops from where it’s at on the wall, brushing your arm before returning to her side. “Ridin’ a bull?” she clarifies, the two of you moving out of the way of the cooler, now facing each other on the wall a few feet down, just on the outskirts of the dance floor.
“Yeah, but I did rodeo as a kid.”
“Mm, that don’t prepare you for bulls sweetheart. They’re a bit rough.”
You take a step towards her, placing your hand on her forearm, running it up to her bicep, thumb brushing across the muscle. Your heart pounds hard against your chest and you pray she can’t see it. Your nerves building as you decide to go all in.
“What makes you think I can’t handle a rough ride?” your voice getting sultry and you see her eyes darken, black pupils now overtaking the blue that was there moments prior. “Y’should really let us cowgirls handle that kinda riding or you’ll hurt yourself.” she feigns self control, but her voice is marginally more gruff than before. “I could be a cowgirl for all ya know.” you state matter-of-factly, running your middle finger back down her arm, tracing a vein to her hand.
“Oh please, I bet the only cowgirl y’ever been is reverse,” she quips, grabbing your wrist as her blue eyes appraise you, almost as though she’s sizing you up. It sends a rush through your body, knowing she’s thought of you like that. “Mhm ‘n I bet that’s exactly what you were thinking when I was on that damn bull,” your fingers brushing the inside of her forearm. Her smug expression staggering, it’s clear she’s trying her best to keep her composure. She takes a shaky breath, “Barely. Y’can’t even ride that thing properly.”
“Maybe…” you pull your hand away, crossing your arms. Her eyes now looking shamelessly at your tits, “I just need ridin’ lessons.” Your voice now challenging, which brings a smirk to the woman’s face. She bites her lip softly, shaking her head with a chuckle as she leans in close enough for you to smell her, pine and musk filling the air. Her voice is low when she speaks;
“Talkin’ like this to me ‘n i don’t even know y’damn name.”
You give it to her, “Do I get to know yours too, or do I just have to call ya cowgirl all night?” you ask as you wrap your arms around her neck, her own holding your hips. “Name’s Abby.”She tests your name on her tongue, “How high’re my chances of gettin’ ya in my bed tonight?” your cheeks feel hot for a moment, and your eyes flick down to her plump pretty lips, “They’d be higher if you danced with me, Abby.” She pauses for a beat, as if considering other options. “Y’did put on quite the show back there, pretty. It’d be a shame for me to miss out.”
_________________________________
With the bass pumping, yours and Abby’s bodies sway, bump, and grind. You find your thighs slotted together, brushing against each other’s cunts. Abby spins you around, holding your hips to meet your back to her front. You gasp as you feel her tits press against your back. Leaning forward, you start shaking your ass on her, arms reaching back and taking her hat, placing it on your head. Her hips push forwards into your movements as you twerk, your pussy fluttering.
Abby’s warm, callused hands trail up your sides, making you stand more upright again. You place your own on top of hers and guide them up to your tits. Hearing the quiet, strangled sound that leaves her mouth, you quickly turn around to face her, Abby’s hands are immediately back on your hips and yours resting on her shoulders. She leans down, “This a preview for later or sum’n?” she murmurs into your ear, hands now grabbing your ass.
“Oh you’ll have to work for it. I ain’t openin’ my legs for just anyone.” her eyebrows raise in surprise, “Y’seem pretty easy t’me.” Abby’s nose is brushing yours, her breath fanning your lips, eyes focussed on your glossy pout. “And what gives you that impression baby?”
“Y’ve been dancin’ like a slut all night, twerkin’ on me like y’need t’get fucked hard n’ deep.” You can feel her lips brushing yours as she talks, her words drawing a small whimper from your mouth. Both of your gazes flicking between the other’s eyes and lips, the tension strung tighter than it has been all night. Both of you waiting to see who breaks first. Your tongue darts out of your mouth, quick as ever, brushing your bottom lip and grazing Abby’s. She exhales through her nose before slamming her lips against yours.
There's a fire that ignites deep in your gut, a soft hum escaping you. You keep an arm thrown over her shoulder, the other hand snaking down to hold her neck. Your lips messily slotting together, tongues meeting tongues, teeth clashing. Abby’s left hand holds her hat on your head, the right grasping your waist. Your tongue is in her mouth, flattening against hers before swirling around it. As you pull away, you bite her lower lip. A higher pitched gasp leaving her as she leans down more, a soft whimper escaping her as you pull back. The hungry sound and heavy eyes are all you need to drag her off the dance floor.
_________________________________
Abby lets you pull her by the hand in the direction of the washrooms, the urgency in both of your paces obvious. You pass Ellie and Dina, who are in their own world until the sight of you with Abby pulls them out of it. Your mind is so focussed on getting Abby into that washroom, you barely even notice them.
As you finally the see old wood Restrooms sign above the hall you make a beeline. The two of you rushing down the corridor, frantic in your attempt to find an open stall. You pin Abby to the first door with the vacant lock, leg between hers as you turn the knob, shoving her inside. She immediately flips the both of you, her turn to push you against the door. Abby grabs her hat off your head, hanging it on the hook, “Y’have any clue how sexy y’are?” she breathes, a thick, jean clad thigh between your legs as she knees the door shut. You just roll your hips on the leg, head tilting back and gasping at the pressure hitting your clit:
“Fuck-"
Her mouth immediately finds its place on the column of your throat, sucking a mark against the skin. Abby drags her lips up to your own, planting a hot, teasing kiss before gliding her lips over to your ear, licking it. Goosebumps cover your entire body as she nips the lobe. Her hips roll on your thigh and she moans softly against your skin, your core aching at the sound. Your mouths meet again, Abby lifts you and places you on the sink, your legs spreading apart naturally. A grin comes from her, “What happened to ya not openin’ these pretty legs for just anyone?” Her thumbs rub circles into your thighs, you open your mouth to say something but she slips a leg between yours once more, effectively keeping you quiet. She runs two digits just under the hem of your miniskirt. “I knew it. Y’are a slut.” You push your knee against her pussy as a protest to her statement, her mouth hangs open, letting a moan out. She sinks lower onto your leg.
“Ya don’t look like you’d be a girl who moans all pretty, but here we are.”
“Shut up,” Abby’s voice is still on the higher side as you move your knee side to side. “Make me,” You challenge her as you lean in, the both of you breathing heavy.
The doorknob rattles, “Almost done in here?” a drunk, unfamiliar voice slurs out. The heavy air between you fizzles out and Abby begins to talk: “Yes, yes jus’ a m-“ You press your knee against the seam of her jeans, she bites her lip, stifling a whine, “Moment.” Abby finishes the sentence, shooting a glare at you.
Both of you compose yourselves, you straighten your skirt and fix your hair quickly. Abby’s smoothing over her wife pleaser and flannel. She places her hat back on you, “It’ll help with the hair.” You pull your tube of lip gloss from your front pocket, bending over the sink to reapply. Abby’s face goes back to being hungry, the ogling apparent. You smirk, arching your back more. “Now that’s wholly unnecessary darlin’,” her lip between her teeth, “Especially when we got someone waitin’ on us.”
“Your face tells me a different story,” you stand back up and Abby opens the door, a hand on your waist as she steers you back down the hallway, voice in your ear: “We oughtta take this back to my place.”
“You got a ride?”
part 2!!
an: first time posting in over a year… i’m actually going to try and be more consistent because i forgot how fun it is to write and had a pretty interesting 2025 (toxic relationships am i right😍), im back fr this time. i might turn this into a series where they date or smt, not sure yet. or write more cowgirl abby stuff. part two w the actual smut should be out within the next few days to a week depending on how quickly i finish my assignments for uni. anyways thanks for readinggg!
currently thinking about willy nylander with a southern!reader
i think everyone agrees he’d call his partner älskling (darling in swedish) so i’m a firm believer he would eat up being called darling (more like darlin’) in your southern accent
he’s so into it he would have to stifle a giggle every time you say it, especially if it’s not your go to or you just like to switch up the pet names you use.
he would just think it’s so cute that you call each other essentially the same thing but it sounds so incredibly different.
Being from/living in a small southern town while dressing the way I do, I get looks. And don't get me wrong, I love the girlies who dress up the way you might expect in the south. But sometimes it is TIRING not being able to find things that fit my personal fashion as easy as going to simply southern.....
All of this to say, quinny who surprises you with buying out your cart on numerous websites because he's been gone for a roadie. - 🦇
because i love you and i need a lil break from writing the 400 follower celly fic (still quinnifer so I'm kinda on track! no one come for me)...
HERE'S A LIL BLURB (i fr can't resist southern!reader in any form or fashion)
~~
"Quinn, honey, where did all these packages come from?"
"Oh, I noticed you've been shopping around online a lot recently, so I bought your carts from a few different sites," he says it like it's completely natural, like it's not a big deal.
"Quinn, you didn't need to do all of that. I don't really need anything. I was just doing some window shopping. Besides, I can get clothes-"
"Where? Babe, we'll be in your hometown for the next three weeks. No shot you're finding that stuff anywhere near there. And don't even start. I did it because I wanted to. You deserve to wear things you're comfortable in, not whatever the norm down there is. And either way, I gotta find something to do with all my NHL captain money. Might as well spend it on my favorite person," he shoots you that soft smile that he has. It's the one that always manages to melt your heart, the one that's too real, too bright, to fake.
"Thank you. You didn't have to, but I appreciate it either way," you smack a kiss onto his cheek, and his smile somehow gets wider.
"Well, what are you waiting for? I think I deserve a fashion show."
i’m literally begging on my knees asking for more southern gf… ANY of the boys will do
a/n: okay so I was gonna wait a while for this BUT since it's our dear Trevvy's birthday.... here you go my love!!! 🧡
masterlist | NHL Masterlists | Trevor Zegras Masterlist
Trevor with a southern gf would be EVERYTHING. he eats it up, to say the least. maybe you've been living in California for a while, so your accent has kinda slipped away or you've gotten good at masking it so people can understand you clearly. When it slips out... he's GONE. especially the first time it's really obvious. Like you're on your first or second date with him and sure you told him you're from the south, but it's not all that obvious in your voice. but then you say something that just FORCES the accent out and you physically cannot hide it. he's WHIPPED on the spot. down bad immediately. he's planning the next date. and your first apartment together. and your wedding. and how many kids and pets you'll have together. he's done for, end of story.
in short, Trevor is a man who would fall in LOVE with a southern accent. he'd listen to you telling some pointless story while he lays on the bed on his stomach with his chin propped on his hands and his feet kicking in the air behind him. oh, and he'd have the biggest goofiest smile with the most glaringly obvious heart eyes you'd ever seen. he'd love a southern gf.
Spoiled Patrick x Southern reader. He’s sooo northeastern, usually the idea of the south makes him think about republicans and idiots but he’s just never met you yet. When he does you’re all big hair and southern hospitality, he genuinely thought you were putting on a character with your “yes ma’am’s ” and “no sirs” which kinda turned him on. You flip everything he knows on his head you’re so kind and smart so he feels like an asshole for thinking you’re a hick. It’s ok though he’ll take you on a date and you’ll eat sonic in his ridiculously expensive car.
I know you were worried about the southern!reader thing being too cheesy but it was perfect, some southern folk are that cheesy and sweet lol so I feel it fits at least.
It was scrumptious btw
gimme 10 more /j
Hahah thank you so much! I'm glad it landed 😂 I'm such a sucker for notable accents but I'm terrible at putting them into words! I don't want it to sound like a caricature of them but also it's the only way I know how to make it obvious in writing.
I do have a tingling need to move the southern stylist reader x homie relationship forward 👀
