JJBA x Reader One-Shots

Horse With No Name - Hol Horse x Reader

Requested by: @Novalovelace

Warnings: ig it's a little suggestive? implied sex but nothing explicit

~~~~~

A cowboy walks into a bar - how cliché.

There's a quiet 'thunk' that sounds from the entrance as the saloon doors are tossed open. The sound draws your attention to the man who enters. His spurs clink with every careful step he makes towards the bar - towards you. Your hands diligently persist in their task of polishing empty glasses. Your eyes, however, are locked on the stranger.

His hat hangs low over his eyes. You can't get a good look at his face, but you're certain he's a stranger. No one in this town has long, blonde hair like his. You'd say it suits him, but you can't tell. His features stay hidden behind the wide brim of his cowboy hat.

He sidles up to the bar and rests his elbows on the wood. With confidence, he flicks the brim of his hat and it pops upwards. The hat readjusts itself atop his head and reveals his face. He's handsome, you think. He must know it, though, because he's oozing confidence. That smile on his face is enticing and sickening all at once.

"Pardon me," the cowboy drawls. "Can I get a drink?"

His polite words and sultry tone are enough to make you puke. Where does he get off with this persona? How often does it work?

"Depends on what you're drinkin'," you reply.

The man hums in quiet thought. "Surprise me."

Your eyebrows raise. "And if I spit in a cup and hand it to you, what then? Does that count as a surprise?"

He doesn't falter, "I'd drink down every last drop."

You snort out a quick laugh - his response was unexpected. As tempted as you are to follow through with your teasing, you pour the man a proper drink. A whiskey and cola slides across the bar for the handsome stranger. He lifts it to his lips and drinks it quickly. Your eyes are glued to a stray drop of liquid that has spilled from the glass and out of the corner of his mouth. You trace its path down the man's face, entranced and wondering just how far the liquid will go. Your eyes follow the droplet as it slips down his chin and onto his neck. You're disappointed when it dips beneath his shirt. By the time it disappears from view, the man has already finished.

"Thank you, kindly."

You shrug. "It's my job."

"How much do I owe ya?"

"Buck fifty," you say, "and your name."

He raises his brow as his hand digs into his pocket for loose change. "Hol Horse. Pleased to meet ya."

"Whole... horse? Like the animal?" You're perplexed.

"Yes, ma'am. Like the animal."

"What's your steed's name? Whole man?"

He chuckles a bit. It's dry and gravely, despite the way the drink should have just lubricated his throat. The sound is hypnotizing.

"That's a good one. Ain't heard that before."

"I aim to please."

"I'm certain you always do."

There's an undeniable tension in the air. You can't pry your eyes away from his no matter how hard you try. It's frustrating and exciting all at once. You want to know more about him.

But duty calls, and another patron in the bar is beckoning you his way for a refill. You begrudgingly tear yourself away from Hol Horse and make your way to this customer. You pour a little less liquor in his cup than you're meant to. It's a subtle act of revenge.