#day 18 western AU | cowboy

[samsseptember]

September  18 - Western AU | Cowboy  

[pragretti]

Inktober 2023

Day 18: Saddle

Howdy! I am so behind in Inktober from classes, but I'm uploading these as I go. Cowboy au with Aziraphale and Crowley. Crowley was still getting used to riding horses instead of using miracles to get places.

[babygirl-diaz]

Samtember Day 18 and 19: Western AU | Cowboy, Celebrity AU | Royalty AU 

((I chose Cowboy and Celebrity for day 18 and 19 of @samsseptember))

Story: In which, Sam is a celebrity playing a cowboy in his next movie, despite his reluctance. To complicate things further, he gets sent to a dude ranch to learn the ropes of becoming a cowboy, where he meets Joaquin Torres, a real-life cowboy, or as he likes to call himself... a ranch hand. Joaquin doesn't like Sam because he thinks Sam is just a big-shot celebrity who doesn't understand hard work. But as Sam immerses himself in the day-to-day duties of the ranch, from mending fences to moving cattle, he begins to gain Joaquin's respect. Slowly, Joaquin mentors Sam in rodeo events like calf roping and barrel racing. One day, during a storm, Sam and Joaquin have to move the cows to safety. They end up in the barn together and kiss. The experience brings them closer, but how long will it last? Will they make it work despite coming from two very different worlds?

Moodboard:

[ayyy-pee]

Request cowboy Suguru asking reader out but she doesn’t date cowboys at all. She hates them but then she gives him a chance

hi lovely!!! thank you so much for this request! IT WAS FUNNNN!!! i'm really loving the cowboy au lately so i was SUPER excited to get something out! it's fluffy and sweet and Suguru is so down bad for reader! hope you like it! <3

Discord 18+ - Twitter - JJK Masterlist

Pairing: Sheriff!Suguru Geto x Bartender!Female Reader

Genre: Western/Cowboy AU

Story Warning: fluff and trust issues and Suguru being down bad for reader. what else is new?

Artist Credit: @aransmind

“You again? I already told you no the last time you brought your tail in here.”

You wipe along the countertop of the saloon bar, trying to clean up the mess left behind by beers and shots of whiskey purchased throughout the day. It’s been a long one, and you’re ready to lock up and head home. It’s just a matter of getting this place cleaned up. This bartop is old, the stains still lingering and apparently unremovable. Just like this damn patron who just can’t seem to leave you the hell alone. 

Just like this damn patron who has slowly been worming his way under your skin, despite your best efforts to resist.

Pink lips pout from the other side of the bar, and all you can do is chuckle, shaking your head.

“I haven’t even said a thing!” A man whines. You place his normal drink in front of him, smiling when he dramatically sighs contently after he takes a sip.

You’re back to cleaning up, arranging your glasses. “I already know what’s comin’. Please, no begging today. ”

A soft laugh falls from the man’s lips as he speaks. “I ain’t a beggin’ man, ___. You gotta know that, but you make a beggar outta me every time I come in here and see ya.”

Another chuckle bubbles from your chest as you stare down the man leaning his elbow on your squeaky clean counter now. You smack his arm off with your towel, quickly swiping at the spot left behind. “You’ll just have to keep beggin’ because I said nooooo,” you sing. “And that’s not changin’.”

“But–”

“Sheriff Suguru,” you sigh, no actual annoyance in your tone, because how could you be annoyed when he stares up at you with those pretty eyes of his you’ve gotten used to seeing every day for the last few months? “You’ve been comin’ in here for how long now? Askin’ me the same question and gettin’ the same answer. Don’t you ever know when to quit?”

At this, the Sheriff takes his hat off, placing it on the bar before shooting you what you assume he thinks is his most charming smile. It doesn’t work.

“Now, Miss ___, do you think if I knew when to give up, I woulda made Sheriff?” He combs his fingers through his silky long hair that somehow never seems to hold even a speck of dirt in it, despite you both residing in the dry and dusty desert.

He’s as pretty as the first day he came in.

------

The day Suguru became Sheriff, his buddies brought him into your saloon to celebrate, ordering a shot for damn near everybody in town. Who wouldn’t want to come celebrate the new Sheriff in town? Anybody who was anybody would be there! You were just lucky that the party was happening in your bar, excited to make a good chunk of change for the night.

Did you really want to spend your entire night catering to a bunch of cowboys? Absolutely not. You’re not particularly a fan, but again, the money will make it worth it.

But it’s been almost an hour past close, you’re standing behind the bartop as the deputies are still rowdy and drinking. You don’t mind much, but you are tired and ready to go. Even the idea of making more money doesn’t feel appealing when you’re ready to just crawl into your bath and try not to fall asleep.

“Aren’t you pretty?” Suguru had slurred from across the bar, in the same seat that would soon become his regular spot. “When do ya get off work, Miss…?”

You give him your name, polite but to the point. “And soon as y’all get outta my bar,” you quip, which makes Suguru laugh.

He leans forward, close enough so you could hear him over the noise of his deputies drunkenly singing behind him. “I’ll tell ‘em all to go home right now.”

It’s an offer that’s tempting, but you don’t want to rain on their parade no matter how tired you are. The money will be good, and you need it. So you roll your eyes at playfully, as you ask teasingly. “Won’t you be lonely without all your friends?”

Your cheekiness only makes Suguru grin wider. “Yeah,” he answers quickly. “Probably will be.” He rubs his chin, closing his eyes and pulling his brows together as if he’s in deep thought. “But maybeeee,” he drags the word out. “I won’t be so lonely if a pretty lady like yourself comes home with me.”

You mimic Suguru’s earlier position, closing your eyes and rubbing your chin as you think really hard about his offer. You let the suggestion hang between the two of you, and Suguru takes this time to let his eyes take you in.

Beautiful. Smart, he thinks. Quick on your feet. Makes one hell of a drink, one of the best he’s had. Yeah, he wants you. This town is full of pretty women. He’s not without options. And while he’s already had his fill of some of them, it’s you who’s caught his eye in a way they haven’t. 

He waits for you to give him an answer. But you don’t. Not by any fault of your own. It’s because one of his deputies – Satoru – is now leaning over the bar and giving you his best flirtatious smile now that he’s caught your attention. It’s left Suguru sitting on the sidelines to watch your interaction. It looks like Satoru is getting more out of you than he is.

You’re smiling, laughing as you pour him some water, because he doesn’t drink. But minutes later, you’re still chatting with his colleague, leaned over and a little too close for his liking. You’re supposed to be talking to him, entertaining him. He’s the Sheriff now! Wayyyy more important than some damn bottom of the barrel deputy!

Okay, that’s the liquor talking. But still. He wants to be who you’re focused on.

“Hey, Miss!” Suguru calls, grabbing your attention for a brief moment. “Just waitin’ for your answer.”

He sees the way you seem to barely remember that you were speaking with him before, nodding before you lean your elbow on the bar and yell, loud enough for all to hear, “NO.”

And it…makes Suguru’s heart beat faster, makes his lips curl in a smile that he has to hide behind his whiskey glass. 

Yeah, he likes you. He thinks he’ll come by more often.

------

Months later, and this man hasn’t let up. He’s always been friendly, too friendly in your opinion. That long hair, those pretty eyes and even prettier smile are deadlier than the gun hanging in his holster. He’s a smooth talker, which you’re sure helped him move up the ranks of the town deputies. But you’ve always been resistant to his charms. Or at least, tried to be. 

Sheriff Suguru is extremely attractive, pleasant to talk to when he isn’t trying to ask you on a date, and once again, too friendly. Especially with the women in town. From what you’ve heard, he’s been leaving a trail of broken hearts in his wake since he arrived. Which is exactly why you’re not interested in going out on a date with him, no matter how charming and funny you find him to be. You’ll be damned if you end up being another name on his long list of conquests. 

Besides, you’ve dated a few cowboys in your day and they’re all the same; big egos, big mouths and big fuckin’ pains in your ass. And most times not a big enough dick to back all that up. Every one of those relationships were a waste of your time and you’re not interested in wasting any more of it on yet another cowboy.

“Just one date,” Suguru begins his regular spiel. "Lemme take you out somewhere. Promise it’ll be worth it,” Suguru tells you, and you scoff. He sounds just like the rest of them.

“Doubt it.”

“You won’t let me take you out, just one time, Miss?”

“Sheriff, I’ve seen ya ‘round town. You take a lot of ladies out,” you note, watching his eyes widen just slightly. “Why not just ask one of them?”

And it’s true. You’ve seen Suguru in the town square chatting it up with any woman whose direction he looks in. He’s the most eligible bachelor in the town. Kind, handsome, a damn good shot and a damn good Sheriff. Any woman worth their salt wants him. If he were in any other occupation, you’d maybe make an exception. But he’s not. He’s a cowboy.

You don’t date cowboys.

At this Suguru stands, holding a hand up, which he waves a little frantically between you. “Now hold on! I run into a lotta ladies in town. Don’t mean I’m takin’ ‘em out anywhere.” His face is serious now, lips pressed together in a hard line. “I know I got quite a reputation, Miss ___. I ain’t stupid,” Suguru mutters. “I hear the ramblins ‘round town. Not all of ‘em are a lie,” he says honestly. And you’re just about to speak up when he cuts you off. “But, not all of ‘em are true, either.”

You swipe at a spot on the bar, the same stain you know will never come out of the wood. You don’t look at him, you don’t want to look at him. Because you hear sincerity in his tone, and that scares you. It shatters this image you’ve built up of him in your mind of this playboy Sheriff who’s good for nothing but a quick fuck at the brothel. Makes you want to give in because maybe he really isn’t like all the rest.

You don’t know any other cowboys who would be as committed as he seems to be to trying to woo you. Day after day, weeks after weeks, months after months of rejection from you. And yet, he still shows up. He still asks. He still tells you that he’ll treat you right. That he’ll take care of you. Is it really that crazy to think that he’s different?

Giggles coming from the other side of the saloon burst the little bubble you’re in with the Sheriff and your eyes dart to the source. A table of four women, sitting in the back of the saloon and whispering what you’re sure are filthy things as they stare at the back of Suguru’s head. He doesn’t look, eyes glued to you and the way you’re still moving that damned towel over that godforsaken stain that you and him both know ain’t goin’ anywhere.

“I don’t date cowboys, Sheriff,” you mutter weakly. “They don’t take nothin’ serious, and I don’t got time for the heartache.”

Suguru sighs, taking his seat again. “Can’t you see I’m serious about you? I’ve been comin’ here for so long tryin’ to show you I ain’t playin’ any games here, Miss ___.”

‘That don’t change my answer.’ Is what you want to say, but the words get caught in your throat.

You both let the silence hang between you. He lets you get back to work, slowly sipping his drink while you finish tending the bar. But his eyes are still on you, watching how you began gently nibbling on your lip ever since Suguru told you again that he’s really not joking when it comes to you, like you’re lost in thought over his words. 

“Pardon me, Sheriff?” A soft voice calls to Suguru at the bar.

Your back is turned, but your ears perk up when you hear the Sheriff greet someone back, a woman. The conversation is short, her asking him questions that you can’t really hear. There are laughs from her, chuckles from Suguru and then of course, the lady asking him what he’s doing later tonight. The implication is clear, and you roll your eyes, because you almost gave into yet another cowboy and set yourself up for heartbreak.

But Suguru groans, awkwardly running his fingers through his locks as he tells the woman that he’s got plans with someone he’s been waiting to see for a long time.

“Family?” She asks, the disappointment clear in her voice. He laughs, shaking his head.

“No. Well, hope I’m not bein’ too forward, but maybe one day. If she ever lets me in, I think I’ll be able to convince her.”

“Oh!” The woman squeaks, not expecting that. And neither were you, because you freeze halfway through putting a bottle of whiskey back on the shelves behind the bar.

“Special lady then,” the woman mumbles.

“Very.”

She dismisses herself shortly after. And as the noise dies down, and the saloon empties out, you hear the telltale signs of the Sheriff getting ready to go, always the last customer. He sits his hat back atop his head, fishing out his money and leaving it on the bar for you. You meet his gaze, and he gives you a smile. Even with yet another rejection under his belt, he doesn’t seem angry or bitter. There’s no resentment behind his eyes. He harbors no negative feelings towards you. His smile is genuine and kind, like it’s always been every time you shut him down.

“Have a good night, Miss ___. Get home safe,” he says, spinning on his heel.

The quiet jingling of his boot spurs fills the air, and to you, at least in your head, it almost symbolizes alarm bells ringing. And you call out to him, grabbing his attention.

“Sheriff,” you place the towel down, coming out from behind the bar to stand face to face with the man you’ve only ever stood at least four feet away from. This close distance feels more intimate than any other time you’ve been around each other, and your heart pounds loudly in your ears as you ask, “Mind walkin’ me home?”

[xomakara]

Ranching Hearts

SUMMARY |  You're an overworked accountant with little time for a love life. Desperate for a break, you join your girlfriends on vacation at a dude ranch. Mingi, the handsome ranch owner is instantly attracted to you and vice versa. But Mingi is about to lose the ranch and everything he's worked for. Will you extend your stay to help him out?

PAIRINGS | Mingi x Reader

RATING | Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+

GENRE |  cowboy!Mingi, overworkedaccountant!Reader, smut, modern Western au, country/ranch life

CONTENT/WARNINGS | profanity/strong language, filthy dirty thoughts, unprotected sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), fingering, oral sex (both female/male receiving/giving), dirty talk, praise kink, pet names, vaginal penetration, creampies, shower sex, outdoor sex, sexual innuendoes

LENGTH | 16,907 words

TAGLIST | —

NETWORKS |  @illusionnet @cromernet @wonderlandnet @k-vanity @othersideoutlawsnetwork. @ksmutsociety

AUTHOR’S NOTE |  Hi hello. Thank you @aaagustd for the beautiful banner and thank you @kpopflowerfield for beta reading this! I really appreciate it💚 Show support by liking, commenting and reblogging. Love you all 💚

"Oh come on," Hyemi sighed, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards the van. "This trip won't be the same without you."

"You really need a break, Y/N," Jinhee muttered. "You're so overworked these days, and all that stress can't be healthy."

You pinched the bridge of your nose as the women clamored their agreements. Despite their arguments that it wouldn't be the same, they were all packed, ready to go, and stood around your luggage as you dithered. "Why a dude ranch?"

"Because we needed something in the middle, so everyone could get to it with ease," Bora said. "And we already paid in full, plus I saw some super hot photos of the cowboy who runs it."

“Cowboys? Seriously?” you asked, incredulous.

Jinhee tossed a magazine towards you. A six pack man filled the front page of it, and your brow furrowed at the photo. Something about the set-up felt artificial, and not only because the man was topless. His boots were pristine, not worn out like you expected. Was this guy actually a cowboy?

"Real life cowboys do not look like this," you announced.

“Have you ever met one?” Hyemi asked.

“Yes,” you replied.

"Seriously?" Hyemi leaned on your shoulder to look at the picture again. "You have been holding out on us! Have you—"

“I’m a country girl, did you forget?” you shook your head.

Bora hopped back onto the van, laughing as the other girls got in. "Tell us all the deets on the way there!"

"Oh, and Y/N?" Hyumi smirked and hit the van door twice to make sure you couldn't close it. "I put condoms in your bag, okay?"

"Maybe there's a hot cowboy, looking for someone to ride him instead of a horse." Hyemi cackled. "If you catch my drift."

"Can we please get going? I have no patience to listen to you guys go into a hyena-like laughing fit," you grumbled as your heart began to hammer away. The prospect of meeting a stranger—no, a possible lover was thrilling enough to make the argument to join them seem pointless now. With a sigh, you waved at Hyemi. "No promises, but I will come along and see what the place is like."

A squeal tore through the van and you cringed at the loud sound. As the chatter in the car began again, you couldn't keep the small smile off your face at the thought that maybe your vacation wouldn't suck. Maybe, just maybe, you'd find someone worth coming home to.

The road trip was filled with laughs and lots of chatter. Your fingers had scrolled through hundreds of articles by the time you arrived and pulled up in the long driveway of the ranch. The entrance to the farm was huge; large wooden signs pointed in different directions, denoting different barns, activities, and lodgings. In the distance was a house, which sat behind the largest barn and closest to the river you saw winding around the land. Your eyes widened at the view.

The air seemed purer, crisper, as though nothing from the city could touch such a remote place. Fresh grass coated the fields of the property, a stark difference to the worn and dull roads you passed as your taxi traveled from the main highways and smaller routes before it. Rolling hills gave the feel of being in a separate world; this place was idyllic, a hidden gem in a world of chaos.

Bora beamed, "This is fucking incredible. Look at the river!"

"Do you think people go fishing in it?" Jinhee asked. "Like, for fun?"

Hyemi smiled as she shook her head. "We can ask the man when we check in. Speaking of—" She grabbed the receipt from your hand and headed for the door. You didn't have time to follow or call out for her to stop, as a tall man appeared from the first barn.

His clothes were much different than the ones you'd seen in the photos in the magazine. A plain white shirt was tucked into well-worn and dusty jeans; black hat covered a mop of black hair and equally dark brown eyes looked over you in one sweep.

Your knees buckled when his gaze landed on you; was he as affected by the attraction as you felt? The tension in the air felt suffocating in its heaviness.

He had his hands pushed deep into his pockets as he watched the rest of your party empty from the vehicle and a light chuckle escaped his lips. "Ladies."

Hyemi took a few steps separating the two of you and held out her hand. "Hello, my name is Hyemi. This is our first time staying here. Are you Mingi?"

Mingi?

"Sure am," he drawled as you took in the deepness of his voice and his strong accent. His gaze moved between the four of you. "Is it just y'all here or do more folks drive down?"

"It's just us. But we heard about the dude ranch and it seemed like the perfect destination to escape the city for a bit and see the countryside. Y'know... uhm... horses, cowboys, nature, all that?" Hyemi asked with an eager expression.

A rumble left Mingi's lips as he fought a laugh. "Of course. Well, welcome to Sunflower Ranch. As your hosts, me and the other guys will provide anythin' ya need, be it horses for a trail or drinks and dancin'. We got plenty of stuff goin' on so if y'all would like to follow me, I'll bring y'all to the cabins."

Mingi reached into the van and removed some luggage with practiced ease and with one more glance at your figure, turned and gestured for the group to follow.

Hyemi smacked your shoulder, her voice hushed with awe. "He's checking you out."

Your own voice came out high-pitched and whiny as you walked to follow. "Who, Mingi?"

"Yes, obviously! He didn't give me or the others the same intense eye fuck as you did." Her eyes took a quick assessment. "Damn, maybe I should've bought some more sexy clothes."

Your heart hammered. "Don't you start—ugh, fuck—this whole weekend."

"Maybe we won't have to. Mingi looks like a man who eats pussy like—" Hyemi continued.

“Hyemi!” you scolded.

"Fine, fine. But I'm snagging the first cowboy that looks my way and it better be that hottie with the long luscious hair," Hyemi adjusted her outfit as she eyed a tall man coming your way to help with the luggage. "You can have Mingi. I'm gonna go and milk that tall drink of water and get a good ride while I'm here."

“You are insatiable,” you said, shaking your head.

"Ain't nothing wrong with enjoying yourself and having fun, Y/N. Maybe you should take a leaf out of my book and have a wild side while we're here. Fuck the stress," Hyemi laughed when your brows knit together in a scowl. You picked up the pace, aware of Hyemi giggling like a fool. It's a mystery how that girl managed to attract so many people when she can't keep her dirty little comments to herself.

You'll have to remind Hyemi not to go and make a joke like that in front of the employees of the ranch. The last thing you needed was to offend Mingi in any way or god forbid have her embarrass you further with her words, so you make a mental note and stick your earphones in. Hyemi will have a heyday of pointing out all the beautiful men on the ranch. At this moment, you can't deal.

As you and the others fall in behind Mingi, the closer proximity gives you a good chance to size him up. His large muscular frame was tightly confined in his clothing and damn did those jeans hug him in all the right places. Not a single thing you were complaining about. Your eyes fixed on that plump round behind, the thick muscles of his thighs and it was hard not to notice the long lengths of his legs. The guy was damn well hung. A blush bloomed over your cheeks when a snort of laughter escaped Hyemi. 

Caught red handed. 

How embarrassing.

"First time to a ranch?" The man with the long luscious hair asked, as he stepped in tune with Mingi. "I'm Seonghwa and I'm one of Mingi's many helpers. There's eight of us, including Mingi, that will be making sure ya ladies are well taken care of while on the premises."

Hyemi spoke first, taking a moment to flutter her long eyelashes. "That's good news, we want all of your help, right Y/N?" She nudges your side with an elbow and you nod slowly, pretending not to notice her sudden attraction for the taller man, which was borderline embarrassing, not to mention desperate. 

"Yes," you sigh. Hyemi pressed her body to your arm as her smile deepened. You side eye her, annoyed she was clearly up to mischief.

Seonghwa chuckled, "Whatever the ladies ask. Here we are. Y'all will be in the end cabin." 

Mingi pointed the building out, a row of four smaller structures of varying designs and sizes. "There is a bathroom that everyone shares since the one in the main house is being renovated right now. I would suggest you ladies shower in the mornings between seven to nine since the guys are usually in there in the early mornings."

"Noted," Jinhee nodded and clapped her hands.

"Just head on inside and we'll get your things settled," Seonghwa gestured to the open cabin doors and you and your friends began piling inside. The two men deposited your things inside and dusted their hands as they both exchanged nods.

A gasp fell from Jinhee as she took the building in. "Will you look at the lake! This view is incredible."

"Take a swim after dinner? Ladies night." Bora laughed.

"Are y'all interested in fishin'?" Seonghwa asked.

Hyemi smiled, her voice simpering. "Anything you'll teach me."

Your brow knitted as the flirting ensued. How anyone could do that so brazenly was baffling. If only you had such confidence... Then again, Hyemi wasn't one to get too attached. And given the look on Seonghwa's face, that wasn't going to be a problem here.

Once you get into the room you couldn't hold it in. "Damn, you're quick to pick."

"What?" Bora and Jinhee squealed and hurried to watch Hyemi.

“Seonghwa,” you said. “Looks like Hyemi made her choice already.” 

"Wow, we are literally five minutes in and you're already throwing yourself at a cowboy," Jinhee laughed.

"Am I a bad girl for wanting to ride him?" Hyemi sighs as she stares out the window, looking for Seonghwa.

"When are you a good girl?" You quipped.

“Never,” Hyemi giggled.

You sighed and ran your fingers through your hair. Hyemi could go for anyone here if she played her cards right. There's no shortage of people, and no shortage of looks on the ranch. "They did mention that there's six more of them running around."

Bora glanced out the window and nodded over to a handsome figure. "I bet he's one of them. Just look at those bulging muscles! Maybe he can throw me on his shoulders."

"He looks like he could pick anyone up and fuck them against the wall," Jinhee added as she stared out the window.

You let out an exasperated sigh. "God, I'm surrounded by a whole bunch of horny women."

The comment earns a laugh as you step outside. A slight breeze lifted the edges of your loose tee and cooled the skin that had already begun to warm beneath the sunlight. Taking a look around, your gaze focused on the large barn. Though it wasn't obvious what it contained, curiosity begged your feet to lead you toward the source of the loud voices and banging noises. As your steps led you close, the distinct sound of hooves caught your attention first.

Following it, the shadow of something massive and alive passed overhead and your gaze slowly tilted upwards. It took a few seconds for the creature to pass your gaze before it hit you. "Horses!"

"Big bastards, ain't they?" a deep voice said from behind you.

Jumping slightly, the soft laughter caught you off-guard and you turned, sheepishly meeting Mingi's gaze. "Sorry! I haven't seen one in years."

"Naw, not a problem, but why the interest?" He stepped in beside you, watching his hand move to adjust his hat. There was no denying the heat swirling inside, seeing this cowboy up close, smelling the mixture of sweat and spicy cologne was one hell of a rush and your head swam as the sensations washed over. Was he this beautiful and tall when you arrived? Maybe. Your head is full of lust filled thoughts, seeing him next to you in the bright midday sun just amplified the attraction tenfold.

Your words sounded faraway, even to your own ears. "Oh, uh... I-I grew up around horses."

"Really?" He tipped his chin and peered beneath the lip of his hat, those big brown eyes piercing and wide in wonder.

A spark flew inside, your stomach suddenly in knots. This guy had a pull, but you weren't sure if it was the charm and attraction or his expression, or the way his head tilted. "Uh, yeah. I grew up on a farm. Been a while, but I used to compete as a teenager."

“And here I thought y’all just came here to have a nice time away from home. Ya sure did surprise me,” Mingi chuckled.

You let out a small laugh. "My friends are city folk. I moved to the city for a job a few years back, but my family... They're all still in the countryside. Guess I missed it, even the early mornings and mucking out stables."

A chuckle rose. "Y'all wanna muck out the stables, just say. We can get it sorted out for ya. Free, too."

The way his dimpled grin warmed as you locked eyes made your cheeks heat up. "Maybe another time, if I'm up for it. Besides, I doubt my friends would enjoy it."

"Or just keep it our lil secret?" he winked.

You found it hard to break your stare away from his eyes. Something behind those pools of dark chocolate seemed to want to tell you something. A sense of ease lingered, you couldn't explain the calm you felt and the desire to be next to Mingi was hard to push away. Your tongue flicked to wet your dry lips and you smiled, "I'm sure we can work something out."

Mingi leaned back against the fence, watching the animals graze lazily in the green pasture. Your gaze followed and took in the other four horses. Some were big, some short with stubby legs. A couple had spots, another was entirely black, and the fourth horse was pure white and looked the biggest. The urge to stroke its neck tugged at you.

"Cute ones you have here," your smile broke the tension.

"Some are mules, and they're in need of some attention." His eyes went to the four mares and a hand came down, resting on your shoulder. "Ever ridden bareback?"

Your eyes widened.

"If the sight of horses excites yah so much, then what 'bout a nice ride? We could saddle the animals or..." The heat in his eyes was intense. "Maybe you're a daredevil and prefer it free. Up to you, darlin', I'm willing to oblige your needs. I'd give it to ya however yah wanted."

Words caught in your throat. "You want me... to ride... bareback?"

"However, you want, darlin'," he breathed as you inched closer. His other hand moved to touch your shoulder, giving you a brief rub before the same hand lowered to your hip.

Your breathing turned shallow, your knees weakening with each passing second. Heat seared the air around you, but you stayed where you stood, drawing courage to respond to the playful innuendo. "Okay, but if I break my leg, that's on you."

Mingi laughed and jerked his chin back towards the big barn. "I'm sure ya can handle this ride, darlin'. You said you've done this before. Now's a good time to refresh that knowledge, get to know the horses, and give them a workout. Think of it as the best type of warm up to really get you loose and warmed up."

A deep throb burned in your pussy.

Shit, had you gotten wet from some double meaning sex innuendos, and the suggestive smirk playing on Mingi's face made the butterflies swarm furiously in your belly. What the hell was happening to you right now? His finger pressed against your lower back, encouraging you to start walking toward the open doors of the barn and a gasp left your lips when you realized just how much the simple touch sent shivers throughout your body. You don't think you'd ever wanted to be touched so much before by someone.

Fuck... were you this desperate for a man that the simplest of touch would set you off?

"Picked the horse yet?" Mingi asked as your gaze landed on a massive black beast. Its tail flicked gently and a warm welcome flared in its eyes as Mingi led you over to the gate of its paddock. "I was thinkin' you should ride Raven here. He's a big bastard, but once you ride a stallion, any other horse becomes easy. How 'bout it?"

“H-huh?” you stuttered.

"Would ya like to ride a stallion?" He raised his brow, but a teasing smile played on his lips. His hands grabbed the rail of the pen as you walked through the gate and he leaned forward, bending a leg and resting it on the lowest bar. It should've been illegal to look that good when dressed for manual labor. "Have you ridden a stallion before?"

What kind of question was that? A million dirty ideas flooded your mind.

"It's been a few years, but I'd like to try one," your voice seemed huskier, low enough to get his attention, and Mingi lifted his chin, eyes scanning your face. A hitch of breath escaped him and you took it as encouragement, moving closer. He smirked, which only deepened his dimples. How easy it would've been to run your finger over each little dip on his face, but the act would be too bold, right? Too much for two strangers?

Yet he was inviting you to ride...

You moved over to the stallion, placing a hand against its nose as your fingers brushed against the coarse, yet soft hairs that made up its mane. Your lips pulled upwards when its head moved close to your body and leaned against it, eliciting a soft, nicker sound. "Hey, gorgeous."

Mingi opened his mouth but his words died when he caught your expression, noting the smile you were wearing. Damn, did you look good as you stood, hand petting his stallion, talking softly and exchanging pleasantries with the big creature.

As you interacted with his horse, the thought of him going behind and sliding his hands around your waist to steady the movement or hold you upright flashed, sending the blood to pool below. It took a conscious effort not to lick his lips, but damn it all to hell, was his mouth dry with the imagination running through his mind. "Do you... need help getting up, miss?"

You glanced at him. "I think I can manage."

Moving closer, he let his hands hang in a relaxed way at his side, hoping the thick material of his jeans hid the growing bulge. What the fuck were you doing to him so fast? He barely knew you, didn't know much beyond your name, yet his mind was in turmoil; he had never had such a physical reaction so quick, and for a woman to affect him in the ways you did wasn't helping his growing problem.

Said problem seemed to have a mind of its own, not to mention a penchant for ignoring the current issue.

You swung a leg over the back of his horse and he inhaled sharply. Oh, dear, sweet hell... how badly he wanted to see your thighs spread for something else entirely. To get between and taste you, bury his tongue against those smooth folds until your sweet sounds are lost to the wind.

Mingi bit his lip and offered you the reins as his mind imagined its way into an improper fantasy. Those damned city girl shorts you had on showed too much of your perfect plump ass. Nowhere near proper attire for riding a horse bareback or sitting in the saddle. That ass needed something thick and stiff to sink into, to take a punishing ride. The feeling of you on top was going to kill him.

"Good?" Mingi asked as he watched you settle onto the horse's back.

You grinned, eyes crinkling from the smile.

That was a look he'd not forget anytime soon, especially given the situation down south, which was ready to burst his seams if he was still thinking in those terms. When was the last time he felt so inclined? Never.

"A lot harder without a saddle, but it feels good," the smile is real, one that touches your eyes and makes him burn with curiosity. "I missed this feeling of being on a horse."

Mingi nodded. "I bet you did."

You couldn't help but stare at Mingi as you watched him converse and talk in a fluid manner with one of the men named Yunho, a very tall and attractive man with brown hair. You were sitting with the other girls at one of the benches waiting for dinner and there were lots of conversations. Jongho, one of the more quiet ranch hands, had served a bowl of steaming hot vegetable soup and bread to your table. The smell of the cooked carrots, onions and green peppers were all mixed in nicely with the savory taste of the broth. A bottle of ice cold water was placed next to you as well, it felt like a fancy restaurant serving amazing food. The bread was fresh and homemade, you noticed from the breadcrumbs when you bit down.

But you weren't talking, just admiring the view of a handsome tall and masculine cowboy. You took a gulp of your water and cleared your throat. The flutters came in as you looked back at him, not wanting to be obvious in your staring. But that didn't seem to go unnoticed as Bora tapped you with an elbow to your rib. You looked back and narrowed your eyes at her as she took a slurping spoonful of soup and giggled at the sound.

"So you were spending the whole time riding horses, huh?" Jinhee started and gave a quizzical smile to you.

“I... felt a little inspired today,” you said, trying to keep your voice even. “Mingi knows how much I enjoyed it, though. And it was fun. I haven't had a workout like that in a while.”

Hyemi looked up and glanced at you from her spoon of soup, her eyebrows scrunching, a face only for you and she returned to the spoonful of broth. "We are talking about the horses, right?"

"Hyemi," you whined out her name in annoyance, brows dropping in the center in a scowl, only for Hyemi to return a smug smile as she sips her spoon again.

"The first day's been wild," Bora spoke again and wiped the corner of her lips with a tissue as she chewed on the chunk of bread she cut off from the roll and chewed a bit.

You took a sip of water, happy at the sudden topic change. There's no telling what else your friends have to say or rather what they might assume. It isn't like you were expecting anything from Mingi. You were here to have a good time with the girls. That was your motto and motto only, no other reasoning or implications was to be associated, and certainly no fantasizing, so why would it cross their minds otherwise?

You smiled again and placed a napkin in your lap. "Thanks for dragging me out to come here. This reminds me of home. I didn't realize how much I was craving that country air until right now. Makes the food even better."

"Is the country girl happy?" Hyemi teased.

"Are you city girls happy?" You countered with an equally joking response.

"So, um, which one do you girls wanna choose tomorrow?" Jinhee asked and scooted her chair closer. "Ride the trails, fishing, hiking? I'm dying for some adventure here. I need more than the pasture, and these mountains look lovely. I wanna feel the dirt beneath my feet, wading through a shallow river."

"Oh," Bora responded with the sound coming from the back of her throat. "That sounds heavenly. Hey, Seonghwa!"

He paused his steps, glass and jug of tea in hand. "Yes?"

“Can you find a good trail for us to hike tomorrow? And a river with calm water for us to wade through?” Bora asked. “Jinhee really wants a thrill while we're here.”

Seonghwa nodded with a deep chuckle and made a step back towards the cabin to gather a list of activities for the four ladies. "San and Wooyoung are available, I'm sure they'd show y'all to the good spots."

Bora laughed, her voice catching the cowboy's attention. "Let's do the works tomorrow, shall we? Ride the horses, fish, cook the fish, then hike and play in a river. All that good stuff. Hyemi, you in?"

Hyemi smiled, that cat-like smile in place that revealed her dimples on the one cheek and nodded. "Yup, I'm in. "

“Y/N, what about you?” Bora asked.

You purse your lips as you think about it. "I was thinking about getting my hands dirty and mucking the stables."

Your girlfriends stare at you as if you'd gone bonkers. Even Hyemi gave you a hard stare, almost as if trying to figure out where the fuck that idea came from.

Bora had a perplexed look on her face, the wrinkling in the corners of her brow apparent. "You're actually going to do that? With those hands? You're actually willing to break a nail?"

"Yeah... Why not?" You said. "I used to do that all the time back home."

Hyemi sighed as a strand of hair blew across her face with the breeze, a sight that should have distracted anyone else. "Don't you wanna play with the sexy cowboys? Jinhee here is already eyeballing one named Wooyoung." 

You shook your head. "It's fine. Really."

"Will you muck stalls every single day while we're here?" Bora questioned.

"Of course not, don't worry," You patted the top of her shoulder.

"I guess you can't take the country out of the girl," Jinhee jokes.

"It's only for one day," your friends still looked unconvinced. "I just wanna muck a stable."

"Or, ride another horse," Hyemi quipped under her breath with a tiny giggle.

You rolled your eyes and picked up the remaining chunks of your bread, taking it as a chance to leave. "And I'm heading off. Good night, you three. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"Yes, mother dearest," Jinhee hollered.

You picked at the bread piece and swiped it, tossing the remnants into a nearby garbage. One by one you stepped into your sleeping quarters and began gathering a set of sleepwear and clean underwear, before padding toward the shared bathroom, determined not to be distracted by the languid caress of cool breezes that wafted gently over your bare arms and shoulders.

An evening shower was calling your name.

Stripping the dirty garments off and tossing them aside in a hamper, your hands found the water dial, turning on the warmth as steam clouded the mirror. You stepped in with an exhale, sighing out loudly. Fuck, a bath or shower was always a welcome break. The warm water relaxed and softened skin, easing sore muscles, and that was a welcoming feeling after the long afternoon horseback riding session.

Warm streams coursed down your body. Soothing sensations coated the entirety of your flesh. The feeling of fingers in your scalp, massaging shampoo in and the heady fragrance of honey-vanilla filled the room as you ran your conditioner covered hair through a comb. After letting the conditioner marinate into your hair strands for a while, you rinsed it clean and turned off the water, wiping down your hands, face and hair as you squeezed out excess water, standing naked as the last drops ran down the drain.

The door to the shared bathroom flew open.

"Shit," you shouted as you wrapped a large, clean towel around your wet body, glancing around to catch a shirtless Mingi. His cheeks turned beet red as his gaze averted out the window as he rubbed a hand over his mouth.

He shook his head. "Sorry, didn't think you'd...I didn't think anyone else would be up this late to shower."

You're eyeing him and he's eyeing you back, in fact, his eyes were eating you up. There was no denying how you enjoyed the hungry look in his eyes as they drifted along your wet curves, and you felt like the moment was to keep him busy and allow him to look his fill. "I just wanted a late night shower after all that riding."

“Don’t let me get in your way,” Mingi said. “I can go later, s'fine.”

You grabbed his wrist to stop him, pulling him back inside the bathroom and closing the door behind him and locking it. The tug made him move forward toward you and the end result was his muscled chest against your covered breasts, nipples protruding and rubbing against the hard muscles. You wanted to keep him and his perfect physique close, feeling his hard and chiseled edges press up against your body.

His expression seemed flustered.

"Join me," you said with a quick lick of your lips, sending him a seductive gaze and hoping that his brain was able to grasp the meaning behind that. "Or rather..."

A finger curled around the strap of your towel and gently pulled downwards, releasing the hold and leaving the fabric on the floor. Mingi's breath hitch and his lips parted. You leaned up as he dipped his head and met your lips, crushing against them softly, savoring the connection and the kiss. Your naked chest pressed against his own naked chest and his hands skimmed down your sides until he's gripping and pushing a thigh in between your legs, leaving your dripping cunt wide and open against his denim-clad thigh.

Your skin erupted into goosebumps and a soft moan slipped out of you when his lips connected to your throat and your teeth nipped playfully. A hand snaked downwards toward the growing erection pushing insistently against his jeans and Mingi growled into your skin as your palm pushed down slowly. The feel of that firm member, twitching beneath the constriction made your toes curl with the realization. You wanted that big dick in you now, wanted to get stretched open until you were stuffed to the brim with his cock.

But first things first.

With nimble fingers, you undid the front buckle, working on his belt and tugging the jean fabric down. The brush of Mingi's lips came off your throat and landed on the shell of your ear. His heavy breathing was a symphony. A sensational noise you'd wanted to hear.

"Damn, woman..." he husked and the roughness in his baritone made you shiver. "Need me that bad, don't you?"

"You were the one who said that you'd give it to me however I wanted," you said and felt the heat rush to your core as a pair of calloused hands clasped around your ass cheeks.

"I meant for ridin' horses," he was guiding your body backwards until your lower back hit the smooth surface of the bathroom counter and hoisted you up to sit on it. "And didn't imagine in my head that you'd make it dirty."

"That's what you say, cowboy," you placed a kiss to the edge of his mouth. The hands squeezing at your plush flesh was intoxicating.

His fingers slid upward along your sides, until those thick digits traced the curve of your waist and a single thumb reached up and brushed the edge of your supple breast. You're rewarded with a moan escaping your throat as his thumb found a hardened nub and twiddled, eliciting a string of heated moans as you closed your eyes in pleasure. You relished his touch as it moved back down to your thighs and he parted your legs, those talented fingers dipping low as the tips teased and pressed lightly at your sex. "So how do yah wanna get it, darlin'?"

"Surprise me," you replied, but Mingi didn't waste time as his strong, broad shoulders pried open your thighs. He gripped the fleshiness, fingertips digging as your stomach lurched in anticipation. What's he planning on doing? The cowboy dropped to his knees with a thud as you watched.

"Move backwards a little," he said in a gravely tone, not hesitating as you spread yourself before him, angling your body up and raising a leg over his shoulder to give the man better access. "Just relax and let me do my magic."

Watching the man on his knees, spreading you wide was such an erotic sight. His expression held lust and hunger and you felt a swell in your chest, aching to be touched and nibbled and licked at by Mingi's tongue. Then a palm presses to the inner-meaty of your thigh, nails softly digging.

His mouth is on you then, licking along the slit. The swipes tease and taunt you, making you throb for more attention. You want to fuck his face. How lovely and filthy a sight. That thick tongue swirling around the sensitive spot sends sparks to fly and dance throughout the room, soaking your inner folds. It's divine, indescribable even, what he's doing to you, and his skilled ministrations had your head falling back in bliss.

His thumb finds a pert nipple again and lightly grazes over it, massaging it slowly in small circles. There's a slight pressure as his middle finger travels between the inner lips, the cold feeling making you gasp and want to contract against his digits, wanting them deeper inside of you. "Holy shit, Mingi."

“Do you want me to keep going?” Mingi asked.

"Please," the word is more of a purr than a statement, and the sensation has you wrapping both thighs around his neck. The fingers curl and press right against that bundle of nerves, making your body erupt into a fit of moans. Then his mouth is back on your center, adding to the delicious teasing from his tongue and your toes are curling as you press the backs of your legs into him.

And you're lifting your body slightly upwards as if encouraging him further to work deeper into that spot. There's an almost growl emitting from him when you wiggle your hips and you swear there's a grin that appeared against your soaked sex. Mingi is fucking smirking, eating your juices like a damn meal.

“Gods, yes...” you moaned.

"Fucking delicious," he muttered against the folds, and when his other hand grips your ass to bring your pussy closer, you throw your head back and close your eyes, one hand gripping onto the counter top and the other finding a home in Mingi's dark hair. Your nails lightly tug at the locks, and you're rewarded with a groan against the hot, wet heat between your thighs.

"Shit, that's good," your walls clenched tighter around his fingers as he increased the pace. He works faster, sucking and nipping as the walls clamp down harder with each motion and sensation. There's a desperate tug now in your clit, pulling tighter. He's not only sending you spiraling closer and closer, he's edging you to your climax. "Fuck, that's perfect."

"Cum for me, darlin'. Cum on my mouth. It'll make my job that much easier." Mingi moans against your heat.

Oh, lord...

You shuddered and twitched as his fingers thrusting inside the pulsing, twitching sex made it harder to breathe and focus on his words. Your back arched in response and your body jerked violently in a trembling motion as that sensitive pearl continued to be manipulated by Mingi's experienced thumb, sliding slowly over the folds.

"That's it," he says softly and that's it, the coil bursts and unravels, flooding your whole system with relief and release. The tension evaporated. You came hard on Mingi's lips. So hard your walls clamped around his tongue and his digits as a few drops squirt out of your entrance and down your thighs, covering his wrist as he worked you through the orgasmic pleasure and high.

When the grip of your legs loosen and his arm retreats back to his side, you glance downwards and see the smirk forming on his lips. They glisten, plump and swollen from eating you out, but you reach a hand out and pull him towards your face and lock lips, your mouth finding his own, tasting the leftover mixture of his saliva and your nectar. A mixture which has you wanting to moan.

"We're not finished, cowboy," you whispered against his lips as you reached forward and gripped his now aching hard on in your hand, watching him squirm and writhe as his dick throbbed in response to your touch.

"Woman, I've been dying to be in since you rode that stallion." Mingi admitted.

You grinned. "Dying you say?"

"Fucking hard, and ready. Ready to be mounted by you," he grunted as you palmed the long length, applying the perfect amount of pressure to bring the cowboy pleasure. "Riding a stallion's one thing. Now you wanna ride something else."

Your heart stuttered in its beats as you replied with an answer. "Always."

Mingi chuckled, unlocking the door. "Let's save the rest for later, hmm? No point gettin' started on the main course, while the other guys are in the vicinity. Though I might wanna suggest taking this little show out of the bathroom next time, and doin' it in my bedroom, somewhere more private and quiet."

Your cheeks reddened and you bit back a tiny smile. "Maybe I'm okay with that. Being alone and having no prying eyes."

Mingi nodded, leaning in towards your mouth, grabbing the back of your head and tilting your chin up. He pecked a couple of small kisses to the edge of your lips, placing a finger along the top of your chin. "We have all week, darlin', don't worry. We have lots of time. Plus, I know exactly where to put a nice little hickey, so no one will see."

Hearing that and imagining that, made you shudder. You released a sigh as he kissed you, tasting remnants of your sweetness along the upper lip, his eyes twinkling. A single hand glided through your damp tresses and came up along your jawline as the kisses became deeper, exploring his mouth.

You could kiss him all night. But at the mention of 'week' it occurred to you that you'd spend every other night for the following seven days getting your fill of Mingi's dick. Couldn't have anything more perfect than that.

Mingi grinned.

And when he did, you melted.

Fuck the damn man-eater.

With your friends hiking the trails and Mingi tending to some of the work around the ranch, you find yourself somehow in his office trying to make some sense out of the paper mountain on his desk, after Seonghwa and San had warned about Mingi's flair for letting everything pile up for too long. You didn't mean to be in here, it's your vacation after all, but you needed a quiet place to escape to answer a few phone calls and emails.

When you stepped into the room with your tablet under your arm and some of your own work documents for reference and in search of a table, you didn't anticipate getting yourself involved and wrapped into Mingi's paperwork. Mingi found you in a flurry of folders and documents scattered across the office floor, filing cabinet drawers flung open as you frantically looked over receipts, trying to piece the puzzle together.

“Y/N, why are ya in here?” Mingi asked.

You raised your head and offered a sympathetic look. "Mingi, hi. I wanted to help."

“Ya know, you are a guest here. Ya didn't have to do that, none of this stuff, and my messy stack of papers ain't yer concern. You should be spending your vacation out riding horses with the others or soakin' in the hot springs,” Mingi said.

You bit your lower lip. "I couldn't stop looking, and it felt important. As an overworked accountant with absolutely no time for a social life, and therefore not dating anyone, and hence the reason I'm here for the week, this felt important. Maybe I could help."

Mingi watched carefully. "Help with what exactly?"

Your expression softened, though you tried to remain neutral. "Help with the muckstacks of financial records, the expense records, invoices and ledgers. I want to help."

"Look darlin', you don't have to," his hands pushed down on his jeans as he adjusted his stance. You wanted to look elsewhere, anywhere, at something besides the tight material pulling at Mingi's muscles and thighs and cock.

He had his full attention fixed on your face. It wasn't going to do you any good. There'd been enough interaction and temptation between the both of you as it was. "It's fine, just let me have a few moments and I'll take care of the mess later. Why are these files in so much disarray?"

He looked up in the air as if in deep thought. "These were put together and sorted by Jongho, one of the employees around the ranch and well, that guy's not good with math or anythin' related to the ranch's financial stuff."

You scanned around the cluttered office. "Well, at least his intentions were noble and I think we'll have some fun sorting this out later."

"Fun?" Mingi laughed.

You sighed. "All work and no play makes for a very, very dull girl. Besides, my friends are going to be gone for a while. And I might as well do something while they're gone hiking."

“Hiking? Why didn't ya go along?” Mingi asked.

"I prefer the company of the horses and other ranch activities," you said. "You can take the girl out of the country but you can't take the country out of the girl."

His grin had returned, lighting up his face. "They headed off with San and Wooyoung, or who knows, one or two more people might come down to help later. I'm guessing they'll be back around evening for some campfire activities."

"Guess that's something to look forward to," you said.

You brushed your thumb along the edge of the stack. A page had slid out and you picked it up, frowning at it.

"What is it?" Mingi asked.

"How has the ranch been doing financially? Your ranch has a nice reputation with its clientele and your reviews speak volume," you answered. "And yet these numbers, some of your expenditures here, show some discrepancies."

"A little money trouble," he answered with a shrug.

You furrowed your brow, turning to the calculator and scribbling some quick numbers, before jotting them down on a small notepad. Mingi is now hovering, watching you work as if mesmerized.

"Okay, these expenses are adding up, you've been a little irresponsible with some purchases but overall this should still leave your profits over what you're actually projected. So this money must have gone missing somewhere along the line, I'm guessing in payroll," you explained.

He's impressed.

"You can see that in such a quick manner and those pages I handed ya? No way..." He laughs then and you're taken aback. There's something boyish, gentle in the gesture and in that laugh. He's sexy, he's charming, and now this cowboy is full-on boyish and you find it undeniably alluring.

Damn it, you want him so bad.

You return his smile.

Mingi cleared his throat, a blush working up his neck and coloring his skin a dusty pink. "Darlin', you're amazing. S'much appreciated, and thank ya, i'd love your help."

"Of course," you replied and started sifting through the stack of papers, plucking some up here and there.

He had no clue as to why you'd even offer, when you were already taking time out of your vacation and then here you are doing his bookkeeping as well. "What made ya come on a week long horseback adventure in the first place?"

"I was persuaded by some of my friends," you responded. "They told me that they wanted me to tag along, that I needed to spend time away from my stressful and dead-end job. That I had spent too much time being a hermit and wanted to bring me on a nice trip to relax."

"No boyfriend to drag along or some such? A pretty thing like you not havin' someone special around makes me a little suspicious, honey. How many hearts have ya broken along the way with yer beauty?" Mingi asks.

You snorted and shook your head at the suggestion and shot him an incredulous look. "What about you, cowboy? Why don't you have a girl of your own, Mingi? I find that surprising. Seems like you would be scooping ladies up off the ground wherever you went."

He laughed. The sound is charming and a little intimidating. "Just haven't found a gal quite perfect for me. Guess I gotta be lookin' a little longer then."

You flashed him a half smile and went back to work, moving onto a small stack of receipts, jotting down things, calculating, and comparing numbers.

"Hey, mind if I stay in here a little while to watch you work? Yah know, keep you company and all," Mingi questioned.

You shook your head. "Don't bother me at all. I really appreciate the company."

So, as you began to scatter the papers all over the surface of the large table and organized a system, Mingi dropped himself down into a nearby chair and began observing your working and sorting, paying attention to what you were doing and trying to learn, much to your amusement.

Watching you at work was impressive as hell, and it didn't take you much time to notice the fact that his eyes never wandered. In fact, they seemed locked.

Mingi may not have been an educated guy, not in the books like you, but he was focused, you could tell. Mingi is driven. When he's on something, nothing comes between him and it until the job is complete. Right now, it's his ranch and what he wants. You have to admit, he's dedicated to what he wants, he wants his dream alive and well, and here you are.

At some point, you'd gotten lost in your numbers that you'd forgotten Mingi was there. Not until a large hand gently touched your backside.

"Why don't ya take a break from work and come outside with me," he'd suggested.

You're still startled from the small touch but not repulsed by it. A little tickled pink. "What for?"

He smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, horse ridin', feedin' the animals. I'll let ya hold the baby chickens if ya promise to not run away with one, steal it and smuggle it to the city."

You tried to control the laughter but you failed, letting the bubbling up come through. "That wouldn't be very bright, I live in an apartment."

"Guess not then," he said.

You let out a small stretch. "But you know what, how do I say no? I would love to go riding with you."

The corners of his lips curved up a bit as you set down your pencil. You glanced outside toward the setting sun. What the hell, a change of pace was going to be interesting. You stood up from the small office table, where you'd been organizing and taking stock of inventory. "Lead the way, Mr Song."

"O' course," he said and made sure you were behind him, to follow him to the stables. "After yah, Miss L/N."

You both headed out towards the barns to catch a few more hours of daylight. You weren't expecting the view, watching Mingi trot out of the stall on his own personal horse, leading another towards your direction.

Your breath hitched.

Okay, sure you told the girls that cowboys don't exactly look like the men in the magazine because you know cowboys, you've met your fair share of cowboys before. Dated a few even. The picture of the cowboys didn't even come close to how beautiful this man in front of you truly was. He's gorgeous, simply and utterly breathtaking and you couldn't look away if you tried.

“You still with us?” Mingi asked.

Hearing him say that and knowing he's still on earth with you brought a rush of heat to your cheeks. Oh fuck... "Um, yes. Sorry, spaced out for a moment there. It's the accounting."

He flashed you an easy grin. "Take a break from those numbers, darlin' and come along with me. No point in being surrounded by such paper piles when you have something better to look at right in front of you. Ya'll have all week."

You let out a laugh as you swung your legs over and mounted the horse. Once you're situated with your balance and grip on the reins, you begin leading the stallion on the outskirts and just outside the property where you're able to view the vast space surrounding the barn and the ranch.

Mingi let himself have a big wide smile. He watched as you expertly climbed on the back of the horse, positioning yourself and getting into the saddle and not missing a beat. Sure there were other women that would throw themselves at him during their stay at the ranch, but all those women only wanted him for the view. For the image of a hot cowboy with abs and the talent on the rodeo. But not this girl. 

Not you.

You didn't come to the dude ranch just to make eye contact with him. You'd been riding the horses since a young age. You were the kind that liked nature and didn't wear high heels, didn't do anything extravagant or try to impress him with fancy and glamor. And that's the kind of woman that captured his attention, that could probably have him falling. He couldn't deny the attraction he felt for you. He was losing it, falling fast and there was absolutely no point in trying to stop it.

That was it for him. He was a damn goner. You were it.

“Darlin’?” Mingi called.

The wind pulled the words away, leaving you barely hearing what he's saying to you, and it's nice, so lovely, to hear his voice out here, where you're just enjoying nature and not buried into sheets of documents and numbers.

“Yeah, Mingi,” you replied.

“How 'bout a friendly race?” Mingi asked. 

A friendly race. He's asking you for a challenge. You lifted your brow and the corners of your lips raised. With his horse he can have an unfair advantage. After all, you didn't expect him to come saddling out behind you with his own horse. A big grin appeared on his face, while he had your stomach dropping. His features looked rugged under that damn hat of his and he's just got that dangerous sort of glint in his dark eyes. You shivered with thoughts, all the wicked and filthy images coming to mind.

“I thought you might go easier on a guest of yours,” you said.

“But I never had a guest who knew her way around a horse,” Mingi replied.

"True," you replied, gripping the leather saddle beneath you, the old material coarse against your palms.

Mingi narrowed his eyes. "So? Do ya accept then? I got a price of some sort for ya if ya win."

Your eyes sparkled at the challenge and you took a deep breath, clearing your thoughts. Your attention returned to Mingi. "And what is that, if I win?"

He raised his chin up, licking the edge of his lower lip. "Name the reward then. Whadda you say? Come on darlin', lemme get an answer from yah. Put me out of my damn misery."

Your chest flutters at the last word and at that hopeful expression in Mingi's eyes. What could a nice race possibly give you as a prize? Anything would be worth it. "Okay, Mingi, if I win the race, you have to do something for me."

“Like?” Mingi asked.

You were both traveling slowly across the landscape, both keeping your respective horses on a short reign so as to not gallop away too quickly.

“An exclusive date with the handsome cowboy who owns the ranch,” you said.

You watched him swallow as you proposed the suggestion. "Just that then? I'm a lucky bastard, I'd be thrilled if I win. Then I'd get a date with a girl as pretty as you. Winning a kiss, holding your hand for a single day could be nice."

The warm flush works its way down your neck and settles below your throat. You shift in the saddle, watching his head as he turns to focus on the ranch and the landscape in front of you. A white cap has now settled itself and a tiny breeze drifted around you both.

"And you?" you asked, your gaze falling back toward him, observing how the horse moved beside yours, watching how he adjusted his hands against the leather bridle.

"And I what, darlin'?" he asked, leaning forward and you notice his upper arm muscle bulging from under his shirt sleeves. He's staring forward and now you can see a pair of gray-blue eyes focused.

“Well, what's your end of the bet? What is the prize to you?” you asked.

You.

You reached a river flowing gently across the landscape, watching the currents change with every slight turn of the horse you're sitting on top. Beside you, Mingi adjusts his hat on his head as he leaned back in the saddle.

"Guess ya won this one," he said quietly.

You pull the reins and lead the horse around, coming face to face with Mingi. The both of you had dismounted and led the horses to the riverside, giving them a moment to feed on the fresh grass. The stallion is kneeling down near Mingi's horse, tearing the green shoots up and chewing the sweet tender grass blades.

"Better luck next time, cowboy," you patted the horse. "Now, don't we have a little business we need to attend to?"

Mingi, red in the cheeks and feeling warm all over, nods. "Ya won."

“That means the winner gets her prize. How about right now? Just you and me,” you purred.

"Sweetheart, there's nothing but the river and these fields," he smirked and lifted his hands. "What do you plan on doing here?"

"Showing you a little something," you murmured, your fingers grasping the hem of your shirt. Mingi's eyes grow wider as he watches you lift off the white cotton shirt to reveal a pretty blue lace bralette.

"Let's finish what we started the night in the shower," you muttered as you dropped to your knees, your hands grasping the leather belt on the front of his jeans. "Is that okay? Don't you want me to?"

"I do, sweetheart. I do," Mingi let out. "But you deserve to be in the comforts of a bed, not out here on the grass. Are you sure?"

“Mingi, right now, on this field or in the middle of that cold shower, it doesn't matter,” you said. “Right here, just us, as long as we're together is where I want this.”

"Then so it'll be," he says with a smirk. He walks to his horse and pulls out a thin blanket from one of the side pouches, draping it over the ground. "I don't want you to get dirty, and the grass is prickly."

Your hands had undid his pants, freeing his thick length from the fabric confinements and watched as his cock had already started growing. The warmth of his hardness against your palm. "I bet you fucked plenty of girls out in the open if you had a blanket ready."

Mingi laughed, but there wasn't humor in it, as you began stroking up and down his shaft. "Not as many as you're thinkin' sweetheart. I only have it on the days I'm riding out at night and sleeping out under the stars."

"Yeah?" you muttered, dragging his pants further down his legs. You glanced back at him and he's now  unbuttoning his shirt, letting it slide off.

"Yeah," Mingi answered, then stepped out of his jeans and tossed them on his boots. "Open up those pretty lips, darlin' and take me deep."

"You don't have to tell me twice," you grinned and inched closer to his crotch, guiding your tongue along his length.

Your soft wet tongue glides against his shaft. Mingi's not quite prepared and so you open wide as you suck him down, listening to him gasp when you bob down and back up again and begin sucking harder and harder, taking a few inches further in.

Your tongue swirled at the tip before you dove right back onto his thick cock, stretching your lips to accommodate his size, feeling him press back toward your throat and you swallow, letting it tickle down into your throat. He's already filling your mouth so well with just a taste.

"Good girl, just like that," he grunts and strokes your hair, using it as an anchor, tangling his fingers and weaving it through as you sucked his entire length. "Let me see those beautiful eyes."

And he's watching you now, his gorgeous brown eyes as they stay glued to your face, meeting his lusty gaze. That familiar hunger had come back, so intense, making you weak to the bones. You've been with plenty of men, plenty of cowboys, and none have ever had the same effect, have taken hold of you so fast like this.

"Such a filthy girl, your lips look amazing around my thick cock," Mingi is beautiful above you. His eyes shuttering close, his head falling back, lips parting in a groan.

When he opened his eyes again, they were darker. As he continues to rock in and out, he makes a low sound and places a large hand on the back of your head, his fingers digging in tight. He's pulsating in your mouth and you can feel his thickness throbbing, that thick head forcing its way back against your throat.

"Ah fuck. Darlin'... fuck, baby, that's good, too damn good," his voice groans.

You pull back, relaxing your throat and give yourself a moment of relief to catch your breath. You're using the opportunity to continue jerking and slicking your hand. Saliva and pre cum was spilling on your skin, creating a slippery friction.

You stared down at your hand, your fist moving in a pumping motion against Mingi's thick, wet cock. There's a bit more slickness at the tip, pre-cum dribbling down, running in a steady stream over his length. Mingi grasps your jaw. You have to tilt your head.

"Don't think you're done yet, pretty baby," Mingi reaches for the waistband of your shorts and pulls it down, then guides his fingers to slip inside of your panties and move them over. 

"Fuck," Mingi muttered. He can feel the warm juices spilling out of your soaked and sticky slit. He plays at your entrance, just teasing it before slipping his finger into you. You clenched tight and he smiled down at you, moving in a quick circular motion and back out. His hands move to pull the lace down further, revealing his glistening wet fingers, that's coated with your essence. He smirks, his expression dripping with filth. He licks them. 

"Darlin', there's something I gotta ask," Mingi's voice is deep and raw, filled with desire, and oh he can barely keep himself contained, wanting to dive into you and bring you to pleasure again. "Ever ridden a cowboy before?"

You rolled your eyes and smirked, biting down on your lower lip. "Maybe," you admitted, arching an eyebrow at him.

"Mm hmm," Mingi slid his pants the rest of the way off and took you by the wrist. He sits back on the blanket, his erection sticking up, angry and stiff, curving almost perfectly as he relaxes against the flannel material. He pats his thigh, a smirk working across his lips. "Come and mount me, cowgirl. Saddle on up."

With a smile, you position yourself over Mingi's thick cock, slowly sinking down inch by inch until you have the entirety of his shaft, stuffed inside. A delicious moan slipped out of you. It was just as full and stretched as it felt during the night at the shower. His girth split you and you're nearly shuddering with how the heat throbs between your legs. You're clenching against his thick length and it feels incredible. "Oh my god... Mingi, it's..."

"Gonna be a bouncy ride. Don't worry sweetheart, I'll hold you tight, trust me," he grinned at you, sliding his large hand across your ass cheek and grasping it, palming at the supple curve.

"Yessss..." you drawled out a moan and the moment you start moving, feeling him glide in and out of your slick passage. The ripples of pleasure began to ripple from the bottom of your toes and run all through. "Shit, you're gonna ruin me for anyone else. Mingi, god, this thick dick is gonna wreck me."

He licked his lower lip, thrusting up, pushing his hips and following you. "Feel good? Tell me, I wanna hear, tell me just how you feel, darlin'. Take all of this big fat cock you can get."

You leaned back, reaching your arms up to get a nice grip on Mingi's muscled shoulders. It was easy to steady your pace, his girth sinking into your warmth with his constant upward strokes. It was different, doing the motions in reverse, having a view of the man before you while still seeing his perfect cock slip in and out of you.

"This what ya needed, honey? Say my name," Mingi's voice is gruff and sultry, as you bounce your cunt against his cock, causing wet skin sounds that could be heard with every smack of his thighs meeting yours. His dark, piercing stare remained on you, focusing in, paying attention to the little details, especially every inch of exposed skin, everything that could send pleasure through your body.

"Fuck, it feels amazing," you whispered against his ear and sank your teeth on the skin of his earlobe. He grasped your ass and yanked you towards him, ramming his cock inside of you. "Yes, fuck, I love how good this is. It's going to ruin me, but damn, I don't even want it to stop."

A deep chuckle left his chest. His warm breath grazing the skin along the crook of your neck. "Ride this cock till you milk me for every drop. Use me for every inch you need. Whatever it is, whatever ya want, darlin', it's yours. You have control." 

Mingi stroked your face with his free hand. Your soft warm pussy clenched against his shaft as you continued riding him. Mingi groaned, his fingers pressed into the flesh of your thigh. "Fuck, that's what you wanted all day, isn't it? Just the promise of my dick deep in you. Needed me to fill up your pussy, sweet baby."

You've fucked a cowboy or two, in your experience, but man none of them compared to Mingi. None have held a candle to how fucking thick his shaft is as it reaches every spot inside. Even your toys have nothing on the stretch that you're getting from the man currently beneath you. Mingi's dick felt amazing sliding deep, your cunt sensitive and tensing. 

"Yes, yes. It's the only thing I've wanted," you told him. "Nothing better."

The corner of his lips tilted upwards, feeling a bit smug as he raised his knees and changed the angle. He's angling your movements now and it's hitting that glorious sweet spot with ease. 

"This dick the best you've had, sweet girl?" He grunts in between breaths. His strong thighs rocking, grinding, driving his fat shaft. "Nobody else is gonna fuck you this good, hm? No way any other cock will be this thick or nice, make you feel like this." 

He's taking your moans like a goddamn mantra of sweet noises. "Oh? What was that sweetheart? Come and lemme hear."

He pulled you flush with his body. Your cunt now kissing the base of Mingi's hard shaft.

"No one..." you managed to gasp out, breathless, and began working up the pace. Fucking him fast, feeling his thickness caress that special spot again. "Never.. felt this fucking good," your hands grabbed his hard pecs. "Oh fuck, Mingi!"

"Come on, baby, show me just how much ya love taking my fat cock," he grinned up at you, eyes bright and flashing with wicked gleams of light. "That's right, show me, sweet thing, c'mon. That's good, good fucking girl. Keep it like this and milk me til ya squeeze me dry. All the cum I've got for ya."

Hearing him talk was beyond hot. There is no doubt he has ruined you. Fuck any other guy. Mingi's the one you needed to be fucked by. Your hands found a grip on his solid muscular shoulders. Your pace never slowed down. Mingi was helping you out, setting the rhythmic beat, meeting the clap of your hips. 

"Oh yes. I'll be your dirty girl, no matter the kind of request, no matter how nasty. As long as it's you giving me all the cock," you purred. "Fuck, no one will ever compare. Want this inside of me everyday."

“Such a greedy little thing,” Mingi chuckled.

"Fuck, cowboy, yeah just like that. Ruin me," you whispered, arching your back, bouncing down, harder, faster, allowing him deeper. "Make me addicted to this big fucking cowboy cock."

Your dirty, sexy words drove him crazy, feeling him turn wild underneath you. In a split second he's switched you both, rolling so he's on top now. Your legs fell open wider, letting his full weight down on top of you. He's starting a vicious and wicked pace, just drilling into your cunt, rough, strong, slamming the base against you. "What would your friends think, huh? Sweet pretty thing like you, enjoying such a dirty fuck. Laying under me with such a greedy wet pussy."

"Don't care," you grunted. "I only fucking want you."

"Are you on birth control, Y/N?" His voice came in a husky tone. He kept moving, pumping into your clenching heat.

"Yeah, yeah I am. Mingi," you whined, your grip firm on his arm.

"Good, beautiful. Been dreaming about coming inside, fillin' ya up all warm. Making you drip out all my seed. Damn it," his lips found your own. He was moving as close to you as possible, leaving little room for his hands. He kept fucking hard into your core. "How much of me can you handle?"

"All, everything. I'm begging you," you met his lips with more force, loving his kiss, hungry for the taste. You held on to his head, not breaking the touch as he moved and pumped harder.

“Hang on then, you're about to get a damn gusher,” Mingi warned.

A throaty moan leaves you, feeling that hot gushing warmth filling you up. There's so much cum, already slipping out as he continued fucking into you, drawing out every last drop. His body shuddering on top, your arms holding on, squeezing his large form and you were moaning from the intense pressure of your orgasm rippling through.

Your pussy is flooded with Mingi's cream as he gently drops his mouth on your neck and kisses and licks away, continuing to spill his seed deep inside of you and you both enjoy the mutual pleasures of your orgasms. You closed your eyes, rolling in ecstasy, your entire body becoming relaxed and tired.

"Thank you, sweet girl," Mingi dropped his forehead on yours, catching his breath and gradually calmed his thrusting. He was looking down at you with such a content face, sweat slicking his hair. "Let's get ya cleaned up and then head back to the ranch."

Your friends watched the whole scene unfold between you and Mingi riding back in on the horses as they waited for your return. Jinhee sees the small smile on your face from her position near the picnic table, setting up for some good old fashioned dinner style campfire. She let out a silent squeal, squeezing her hands tightly and grabbing Bora by the forearm. "Y/N and Mingi are riding back."

"She looks so happy," Bora replied. "I think she really missed the country lifestyle."

Hyemi nodded. "She looks at peace here. I've never seen her this happy ever since she joined the firm. She could finally enjoy herself."

"She's actually been relaxed for once in her life," Jinhee teased, resting the platter of hotdogs and meat onto the side of the table and taking a long gulp from her s'mores stick. "Not wound up and frazzled with all her paperwork she brings with her everywhere she goes."

"Uh, ladies," Hyemi began, moving closer towards the women.

You rode up along the pasture with the tall cowboy not too far behind. You tugged on the reins, bringing the mare to a slow walk and allowing Mingi and his steed to catch up.

"Nice race, pretty lady," he gave you a wink.

"Can't believe I beat you at a race. Are you really rusty?" You laughed.

“Maybe you were pretty damn distracting along the ride back to the stable,” Mingi replied. “Distracting enough to leave me speechless. You sure damn well know how to leave an impression.”

You turned and watched him climb off his stallion and steady his footing, throwing the straps over the wooden bar. Once he's secured the animal, he offered you a hand and helped pull you down off the saddle.

Your feet finally touch the ground. "Pretty good for a city girl, am I?"

"Ahhhh but you're a country girl, remember?" He winked.

"That I am," you laughed. You patted the horse. "I'm not ready for my friends' teasing. They saw us ride back in."

"So they saw me get my ass whipped. Oh well, what's a man's pride anyway when he's faced with a beauty like yourself," Mingi replied and let out a smile. "Hey, you did earn your reward darlin' and I'm a man who keeps his promises. Now go on. I think your friends are waitin'."

He kissed you on the cheek, a small, chaste brush against skin. He's left you breathless, staring after him and your knees feeling a little weak, all too aware of how hard he can kiss. It wasn't fair to turn on that charm at a moment like now.

The women all giggled, waving you over once you've headed towards them.

"So...were those rosy cheeks because of a nice ride on your horse? Or because of a certain tall, dark, and handsome someone you were with?" Jinhee questioned, eyeing you from head to toe.

You were a mess and you know it, covered in sweat from your horse ride with Mingi, still filled to the brim with adrenaline and some hormones.

"You're asking me the wrong questions, I'm too overwhelmed and heated from the sun," you joked.

Bora crossed her arms, frowning, not buying any of the bullshit. "Something is different. That sparkle, the glint, in your eyes says there's something more to that cowboy we met the first day we came."

"Pssssh," Hyemi pipped up. "Don't lie, Y/N, we saw the look on your face when you were riding back. You looked happy, more happy than I'd ever seen."

Your shoulders shrugged and your lips pursed, holding back the excitement and pure happiness wanting to pour through.

Hyemi went up behind you and clasped her hands together. "Oh come on, tell us more. Tell us anything, everything!"

You were not going to tell your friends about having gotten eaten out in the bathroom by Mingi or even have sex out in the open fields, but you could tell them about the racing bet. 

You turned to them, facing the group as one. "Well, let's talk about that over some beer and dinner. I'm starved."

The sun set beyond the horizon and the glow illuminated the landscape. With the lantern lights, the campfires and the company, this is the most peaceful and happiest you've been in a long, long time.

The coolness of the evening washed over your skin and you felt free, carefree.

Not spending time worrying about money and expense statements for a single business, stressing and working non-stop every single week just to make ends meet. You're used to this, you've lived with the pressures of city life.

And being in this place? Back in the countryside and enjoying your old habits and life, brought you some type of solace and a level of contentment you never experienced.

The familiar crackle, pop of the fire as you sat around, snuggled in a quilt. The cold beer, the smores, and laughter. You breathed deep into the fresh air. It'd been so long since you'd seen so many stars in the sky. A couple nights in the city would yield nothing.

This was your heaven.

While the ladies gathered themselves and talked, you didn't feel a little lost on the side of the camp, looking up.

“Beautiful view, isn't it?” Mingi asked.

You jerked your neck in the direction of the sound. Mingi had sat next to you with a beer in hand and a curious look upon his features.

"It certainly is," you responded. "It's hard to look at the stars in the city. But this? Makes me not want to return."

He cocked his head to the side. "Surely this can't compare to your fancy job," he said.

Your shoulders raised. "Honestly? It isn't glamorous or exciting like the people might think. All I do is stare at numbers day in and day out and live for those paychecks. So the view here? Is something I missed about home."

"Ever thought about going back?" He questioned. "Thinking maybe that move was a mistake."

You let out a soft sigh. "Every single day. I'm thinking that I've made a huge mistake. Working in a place where I can be overworked and not paid what I'm really owed. I don't understand why I'm struggling in the first place, but I do know that there has to be a better option out there. But I wouldn't have met my friends if I didn't move to the city. But still, there are times when I want to go back."

He's so close to you, and in the darkness his eyes look like glitter, bright and reflecting the starlight.

You shook your head and broke out of the haze you were caught in. He leaned closer, closing in the distance and the gap between you. Your throat thickened as your skin pricked, an awareness washing over your body. His jaw works as he swallows hard and lets out a slow and hot, heavy breath. He wants, so badly, to press a sweet kiss to the corner of your lips. But he wouldn't dare ruin this, not with your friends just a few feet away.

"Then stay," Mingi murmured and lifted his head so his gaze could meet yours. The hand holding his beer shifted, and you could swear you saw his fingers move toward yours as a sweet offer. "Stay with us. I could use your help around the ranch, a woman with your skill could be the blessing I'm waiting for. Staying would give ya a chance to get out from beneath those numbers and back out here in the country. The ranch isn't far from the city so your friends could visit anytime."

The warm huff of his words breezes across your nose, and then it's his smell that surrounds you. His sweet musk and the deep earthy woodsy scent.

“You've been working on my papers so you already know how bad my books are. The ranch isn't thriving right now, not when I got these things just hangin' over me. But with a fresh pair of eyes? Maybe a new opportunity? I need your help, Y/N,” Mingi said. “In anything. Accounting, bookkeeping, the finances. Heck, if ya offered to help around the ranch, I wouldn't mind that either.”

You heard your friend's conversation still playing out, their soft, lilting laughter in the background. And Mingi's whispers as his mouth ghosted the curve of your ear. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he muttered as he leaned his head closer, his hand cupping the curve of your face, bringing your nose closer to his and leaving a short gap between your lips and his. His lips pressed against the soft pillow of yours, kissing it briefly and ever so softly.

The world faded away. All that's left is Mingi. And it's just his voice, his closeness and the way his breath touches you and ignites tiny sparks underneath your skin.

He inhaled, taking a sharp, small breath as his face inches nearer towards yours, noses nearly touching and lips barely grazing against each other, a ghost-like touch and heat, making you warm. You breathed in his musk scent, an intoxicating pull that pulled you to him. He kissed you again, soft, not seeking any kind of tongue, and you didn't dare try either.

A warm wave washed over you, this warmth of desire spreading through and the blood humming with the light contact of lips brushing lips, both pulling each other closer.

His mouth fit so perfectly against yours.

You broke away slowly and looked into Mingi's eyes, heavy lidded. Your forehead dropped to his shoulder and the soft chuckles vibrated through his chest, causing a ripple against you.

The beer was forgotten and you were only holding onto the blanket around you, you heard the hoots and hollers of your friends that jolted you out of the fantasy. That you had to snap back into reality. Your lips are on fire and there's still the warmth that he left with that sweet little touch, seared onto your skin and igniting every part of your body.

He had sat up straighter, away from you, watching from his peripheral view and knowing there were eyes trained on the pair of you. He coughed and started to drink his beer, but you've both lost that brief moment of privacy and connection you just had moments ago. 

"Gonna think on it, darlin?" Mingi asked and reached over to grasp your hand and stroke a thumb over the knuckles, slow and intimate.

You couldn't breathe, and he chuckled and dropped his hand from yours. Mingi stood up and gave a brief smile, and a quick nod before tipping his cowboy hat at you. "Let me know." Then he walked towards Yunho and Seonghwa, who were eyeing him while drinking from their own bottles of beers, and slung his arms around both the ranch hands' necks. The three men laughed and walked back towards the direction of the stable.

Fuck you had it bad for Mingi. Badly. Like ridiculously fucking bad.

"Don't you even try to deny anything!" Bora pointed. "We all fucking saw that shit. You had heart eyes! Who the fuck are you and what have you done with our serious and strict workaholic friend who won't even allow herself time to enjoy the simpler life?"

"Was he a good kisser?" Jinhee asked, a genuine curiosity on her face.

"Yes," you mumble.

"Say that again? You're gonna have to speak up because even a mouse is quieter than you." Hyemi teased.

"For fuck's sake, yes he was a damn good kisser. Wouldn't you wanna be kissed by someone like him?" you let out a sigh of defeat.

Bora and Hyemi high five each other while Jinhee is cackling.

"She admitted it, pay up, girls," Hyemi held her hand out, awaiting a few large bills. She collected the money from Jinhee and Bora. "Didn't I tell you I called Y/N and her cowboy kiss?"

“Did you two do anything else? Anything kinkier than a sweet and chaste kiss?” Bora asked, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

"Uh.." you didn't know how much you should admit.

"Y/N, you dirty minx," Hyemi winked and slid a drink over your way. "But I won't press you, I just hope it was satisfying and worth your time."

You took a gulp and said, "It was more than satisfying."

"Well, well, well," Bora put her elbows on the table and leaned in, pressing her hands to her chin, resting her head against them. "What's gonna happen to our best friend?"

"Who knows," you sighed, allowing the cool crispness of the alcohol burn down your throat and calm your racing heart, wondering what would happen now. How did things progress further with a simple and brief touch of the lips? "Who the hell knows."

Mingi, Yunho, and Seonghwa wandered back up the pathway, walking towards the stable to call it a day and start to head inside to meet up with the other five men that were his ranch hands and friends.

Seonghwa had a big smirk plastered on his face, tossing his hand up and patting a hand against Mingi's shoulder blade, shaking his body. "Someone's got an itchin' for a certain lil lady."

Yunho was walking alongside, listening, giving Mingi a side eye.

Mingi put up a dismissive gesture, shrugging.

"My question is," Seonghwa started. "Is this about lust or love? Huh?"

"She's not mine to claim, Seonghwa, not just yet anyway." Mingi stopped to look up at the night sky, rubbing the back of his neck with the palm of his hand and taking off his hat. He brushed it along the curve of his leg, ridding himself of dirt before he returned it.

He heard some distant squeals and yells from the girls across the yard, coming closer. A beautiful night filled with beautiful memories. "A week isn't long enough to develop feelings for a pretty girl such as herself," he commented.

"Bullshit," Wooyoung groaned and his brows knit together. He swung a strong arm at Mingi's, cussing at the man who's got the bigger body structure. "All ya do is eat, sleep, and fuck. Those feelings don't exist?"

"She's different, okay? I can't explain why, I know this is very hard to believe considering I fuck around all the time. But Y/N? Man, she knows her way around a ranch, she knows business and books and that kinda stuff," Mingi breathed deep. His eyes followed as the group walked by. "She knows about the situation with the ranch and she offered to help with the papers when I never asked her to. No strings attached and she wanted to do it because she has a heart of gold and that kindness is why she decided to. It was just for fun but she is intelligent as fuck and knows her shit when it comes to numbers. Y/N could easily kick my ass if we were on even footing. Don't even question me man, she's special."

The girls continued to move around.

Mingi closed his eyes. "I'm not looking for another fling."

"Shit, is my pansy ass cowboy boss fallin' in love?" Jongho questioned and placed his palms on his chest, a loud groan. "Love makes you weak."

Mingi tried to shrug, a smile creeping to his lips. "Haven't ever thought of feeling this way until I met Y/N. Hell, I even asked her to stay longer."

"What?!" Yunho finally spoke, eyes wide and round as he looked over to his best friend.

“Yeah, yeah,” Mingi replied. “And I wasn't kidding.”

"Are you stupid?! Have you lost your mind asking someone who's got their whole life planned back in the big city, to stay here with the likes of us? Living like this in the country,," Hongjoong raised his voice.

"You guys weren't there when she was talking about missing home. Missing her family's ranch and having that time out of the corporate bullshit she does day to day. She's lost, she knows she needs to leave but doesn't have a reason. Maybe Y/N stays for the ranch, maybe she'll stay for me," Mingi suggested, grinning. "What do I have to lose?"

"Your sanity. Everything you have is riding on that little city slicker," San joked.

"Look, you can take the girl out of the country but you can't take the country out of the girl," Mingi interjected, laughing. He turned away from the others, walking toward his house. "Who knows, if this is about a one week fling, then fine. She goes and that'll be it. But Y/N stays a little longer and she fits right in here with us, then I'll be damned if I let her go back."

"Ya'll fucked, didn't ya?" Wooyoung commented, brows furrowed.

Mingi waved him off. "Piss off, you dickheads, leavin' ya to clean the mess in the stable and tuck the horses in for the night. Don't forget to give the chickens fresh water!"

Mingi kept a smile on his face, laughing when Seonghwa scoffed and he looked over his shoulders. "And go ahead and polish the stallion's boots because I'll be sure not to leave the stallion untied!"

San chuckled, mumbling. "That's what ya'll are..."

Mingi flung his hands back, his middle fingers up high, pointing both his fingers out for his group of friends. "I can hear ya, asshole!" He gave one final wave before stepping back into his house, calling for his dogs, and closing the door. 

He rested against the wooden frame, leaning his head against the entryway. He couldn't get this week out of his mind.

He didn't expect any of these events to transpire. For a girl, for a woman, for you, to make him feel so strong and alive. Mingi can't wrap his mind around it, the fluttering feeling in his chest that made him weak in the knees, whenever he's with you.

He exhales sharply and tries to close his eyes and breathe. But this time, his fantasies of you come rushing forward. He can see your beautiful body spread bare underneath his gaze, head thrown back, naked chest flushed and panting. He can see it all with clarity, and his cock gets harder thinking about it. And it makes his heart pound faster, and Mingi wants you again, badly, so so badly, but for a completely different reason. It wasn't a physical thing, not anymore.

After those events between you and him happened, everything has changed. The need for him and wanting his body has transformed. Mingi knew that somehow you felt the same way. Maybe you're the girl for him.

Mingi's body yearns for a good night's rest and he is quick to start a shower. He quickly strips and takes a hot, soothing shower, allowing the steam and water to wash over his aching muscles and body.

But he cannot shake the urge to see you, his soul cries for you, so he peeks his head out of the shower curtain. His eyes dart quickly around for any sight of his boxers, but they're nowhere to be seen. He checked and rechecked his laundry basket. Nothing, empty, nada. Mingi saw that those boxers were nowhere to be found. "Sonofabitch." He was hoping, praying that his dogs haven't gotten ahold of his boxers. Because of the teasing that'll happen with those smartass guys that work with him and him having to deal with their non-stop joking comments, that's something that'll really irritate him for an entire week. He shook his head and grumbled, a habit he had picked up from Seonghwa.

Fuck it. He quickly finished up and scrubbed his body, smelling of a soft forestry scent, and grabbed his towel from a rack in the shower to wrap it around himself. Water dripped along the toned muscles of his chest, sliding along his abs, the indents that the towel molded to. Water dribbled from his dark wet locks, splashed against the shower and floor. He was so engrossed in drying off, his legs swinging wildly to a beat as he danced and shimmied while drying his lower half, that he didn't even notice you entering his bedroom.

"Oh my god, Mingi," you hastily turned away and put a hand over your eyes. You peeked through the crack of the two fingers holding over your eyelids and Mingi couldn't help but laugh.

"You're so shy all of sudden? This is the same woman who was bouncing up and down on my dick for the world to see outside?" Mingi snorts and continues drying off his body. "Why are you here? Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"Couldn't sleep so I figured I'd help finish your paperwork, also-" you stopped. You almost blurted out that you missed the hell out of him and couldn't get him out of your mind but bit your lip and prevented yourself.

“What else? Your face is reddening up. What is it?” Mingi asked.

"Well, I, uhhh- " Your hands were clasping and wringing the hem of your pajama shirt, biting on your lower lip. The awkward silence between you was becoming so very obvious. And in the corner of your peripheral vision, you could see him shaking his head and scoffing, smirking as he reached for a pair of pajama bottoms and throwing the towel to the floor.

"If you want more, just say so." Mingi winked.

"Yeah?" you breathe. "You'll give me more?"

"Somethin' tells me that the bookkeeping stuff isn't what brought ya here in the first place." Mingi smiled as he pressed up against your body. Your chests colliding with his full and naked body. The rough texture and sturdiness of his body provides the support to your own body that is needed.

"Can we just lay in bed together instead?" You looked up with hopeful eyes and whispered against his collarbones.

"Now darlin', you don't gotta ask. If that's what makes ya happy." He threw himself on top of the covers of the bed. Gestured for you to come up beside him and welcomed the embrace with arms open, wrapping around your form. A tiny, perfect fit within his long frame. His muscular arms and legs trapping your smaller ones. You breathed a contented sigh. It felt perfect, being in his arms. "You're not gonna disappear in the morning are you?" Mingi asked.

You huffed a laugh, his fingers were stroking and kneading through your hair. "Not planning on going anywhere."

"Mmm…" his eyelids drooped as his thumb rubbed your scalp, melting into a warm state. "And if your girls are looking for you?"

"They can deal with me tomorrow. They're big girls. And I'm tired," you breathed against his bare shoulder.

"Yes ma'am. Do what you will. Although, I gotta say," he shifted, releasing your head to look at you, only for you to rest against the planes of his bare chest. You felt a few droplets of water trickle across your forehead. You both remained in comfortable silence. You heard his deep inhalation and felt his lungs expanding beneath your arms. 

"This is something I'd wanna wake up to every day," he whispered and brushed some stray hairs away, his thumbs stroking your jaw, and pulling your chin up. Your lips pressed firmly against his soft, full and puffy ones. "I like you, darlin'. Real, real bad. So I'd love it if you stayed."

He pulled the blanket up, covering your shoulders. He turned to switch off his bedside lamp. And then, it was darkness that settled. Only your quiet breath could be heard, and the deep evenness of Mingi's that you matched.

"Thank you for the week, Mingi," you whispered and tipped your nose up, brushing against the soft sensitive skin under his chin, trailing soft kisses along the skin there. "Really."

Some Months Later

"Mingi...The girls are going to be here soon!" you whined as your back was plastered against the wall, arms wrapped around his neck and his legs caging you. There is the light flush of your cheeks. Lips, red and bruised. Mingi's cowboy hat placed crooked on your head.

"Don't care, baby, we have a few minutes before they're due," his raspy and growling voice had you pressing your knees closer together, fighting off a soft whimper.

"So...rude," you sighed heavily and crossed your arms, avoiding him. "At least give me time to catch my breath!"

"No, baby, want ya now," Mingi groaned out.

"God, you're fucking impatient!" you groan and giggle as his head bows and peppers soft kisses across your cheeks.

"Yer fault for looking so sexy wearing my clothes." Mingi muttered.

"It's only a t-shirt, it's comfortable, okay,” you retorted.

"Mmhm...and my hat," he whistles low. "Love seeing you wear that and nothing else."

"When my friends get here, you better behave," you warned him.

Mingi nodded eagerly, nuzzling the crook of your neck, teeth grazing your pulse and biting a mark. He wanted everyone to know you belonged to him. "Yes, ma'am. Do I ever disobey yer orders, darling?"

"Yes," you quickly responded. "So often and I hate it."

His large warm palms grazed up and down your thighs and squeezed a handful of your ass. "Now, what do you really want, darling?" He rolled his hips and gave his stiff erection a light press against the area where your thighs met, giving a sharp hiss at the contact and pressure.

"Okay. maybe, I like you disobedient," you moan. "But can we wait until later? They'll be here and I-"

"Seonghwa and the guys can help them out," Mingi nipped at your collarbone. "It's not like the girls haven't been on the ranch before."

"I guess, just a quickie, maybe?" you glance over the clock hanging near your hallway, time is running low.

"How much time do you think we got? Five minutes tops?" Mingi laughed.

"Maybe five, or less," you dropped your eyes. You just couldn't resist him. You never could.

Mingi smirked. "Have I told you how sexy you are and how I want you all the time?"

You kiss him softly. "At least a hundred times in the past week." You slipped a hand down his chest and dipped a finger into his pants. His hips jerked.

"Hey," you heard a voice and footsteps coming from the door. "Yunho wanted me to─Oh damn it," and Bora started coughing to hold back a laugh, eyeing the way you clung onto Mingi. She turned back away quickly, hollering at the others. "They're still fucking! Don't bother knocking! She can't be separated from him!"

"Sonofabitch," he groaned. "I guess not today."

"I told you we didn't have enough time!" you pull down your top and slide Mingi's hat from your head, placing it back. You roll your eyes and tussle your hands through his hair. "Behave, yeah?"

"Never," his hand is on your back and he walks with you out of the bedroom. "Baby?"

"Hmm?" you give him a quizzical look.

"I'm happy you decided to stay. This all means everything to me," he whispers softly and leans down, embracing you in a slow, tender kiss, dipping his cowboy hat at you with a wide smile once he pulls away. "Love you, darlin."

You giggled and patted his shoulders, smiling right up at him, "Love you too, sweetheart."

After another kiss, you and Mingi walked towards the others and watched as Wooyoung showed Jinhee how to feed a horse. Bora was eyeing San and asking him many questions while Seonghwa and Hyemi conversed amongst each other. Jongho and Hongjoong were busy attending to a few others who were also out for riding and your eyes fell to Yunho and Yeosang. They were busy showing other guests a couple things to make sure they were riding safely and had your brows furrowed.

As soon as Hyemi turned to her side and noticed Mingi and yourself, she rushed over with excitement, arms around you. "The ranch sure is growing fast, it's looking great here!"

"I still can't believe you decided to stay. All because of one cowboy man," Jinhee patted her hands against your arm and sighed. "But if you're happy, then I'm happy for you."

"We missed you!" Bora ran from her spot over to you and latched herself onto you, tightly gripping at you and her.

"Not too tight," you let out a small laugh. "I can barely breathe."

"Oh?" She pulled away with her brows raised, grinning widely.

"Well," your hands fell to Mingi's biceps, fingertips massaging the warm muscles. He hummed happily. "I was waiting to tell you the news."

"What news is it that you couldn't tell us over the phone?" Jinhee cocked a brow.

"Turns out," you looked up to Mingi, then glanced over at the other men around. "We're getting married and..."

You shared a brief look with Mingi. A happy gaze over one another, warmth growing. Mingi's smile broadened and the smile crinkled as his arm dropped and reached out for your stomach, feeling the smooth, tiny curve there. And the fingers that curled over your hip pulled you close, leaning his head down. 

"Yeah," he breathes. "We got a new little rancher, ready to join our family."

"You're having a baby?!" Your girlfriends exclaimed in unison.

"I'm moving to the ranch now just so I can be here when the little one joins," Hyemi was hopping from foot to foot, giddy. "Do you have an extra room for me?"

“There's lots of rooms. Unless...maybe you're willing to bunk up,” Mingi said.

"I think Seonghwa's willing to bunk," you teased and gave a loud laugh.

Seonghwa lets out a laugh and comes over, his arm stretching around her, pulling Hyemi over his shoulders. His lids dropped in a lazy fashion. He let out a simple, yet attractive chuckle, "If the little lady wants."

Hyemi blinked. She gulped and slowly gave her approval with a gentle nod and her voice wavering slightly. "Yes please."

Seonghwa lets out a hissing laugh. And his expression softened, the usual blank look was washed from his face, making him look almost human and his lips quirk upwards as he gave her the friendliest smile anyone had seen on him. His brows wiggled. "I'd have you begging for me within a month."

"Excuse me, Mr. Park, you got your work cut out for you," she gives him a challenging smile. And Seonghwa tilts his head, curious at the cute remark. "Cause' I don't think you'd have to try."

Seonghwa wraps his arm around her lower back, pulling Hyemi tight against him. "I miss ya too, darlin'. Thought ya would never show yer cute face again."

You let out a laugh as you watched Hyemi's face turn rosy red in a flash and let out a squeak. You nod in her direction, your finger poking his chest and scrunch your nose playfully, "Have fun tonight, don't keep her out too late, mister. You have animals and people to take care of tomorrow."

Seonghwa smiled softly. "Yes, boss." He gives you a wink before guiding Hyemi back to his cabin, murmuring under his breath.

Mingi lifted you off the ground and gave you a twirl, followed by a long and affectionate kiss. Then his palms were splaying out across the slight protrusion in your abdomen, soothingly caressing his knuckles gently.

You saw the tender look that was on his face and your heart melted for him. His affection was so innocent and warm, and you wished he'd continue to look at you like this forever, every day, always, you were falling deeper and deeper in love with him.

Your hands gripped around his neck, fingertips curling through his dark locks. "I love you, Mingi, so much." You whisper.

Mingi set you down and he turned to see his friends smiling up at him. Yunho, Jongho and the other's were clapping softly. He was a proud father. Or, at least, soon-to-be-father and it wasn't going to change. This man and child are his and the love and adoration you give back to him is so special and Mingi's world is shining bright as you look right up at him and he would do absolutely everything for you to remain right in his arms like this.

He kissed your lips softly, chuckling softly before whispering against your mouth, "And I love you both, so fucking much, sweetheart."

[bitterrfruit]

Wild Cherries

John Price x f!Reader tags/cw: modern western AU, cowboys, mean!John Price, chasing, spanking, light sadomasochism, age gap (ish), brat taming, dubcon if you squint, smut wc: 4.9k 18+ mdni

Jonathan Price owns the ranch that neighbours your family's. You've got a bad habit of hopping the fence between them, snooping and stealing, leaving little traces of your misbehaviour behind. What happens when you poke the bear?

✼ Read the full chapter on Ao3 ✼

Jonathan was almost as tall, near as wide as the doorframe he stood in. He glanced above you, expecting someone taller, before he craned his head downward to look at you, and you felt your heart flip behind your sternum.

“Well,” he huffed, voice hoarse from a day’s worth of yelling. His stare narrowed as he soaked you in, crow’s-feet creased; piercing eyes raked from your head to your feet, painfully slowly, and back up again. “Ain’t you a nice surprise.” 

His cocksure voice was rumbling and deep, it sunk under your skin and made you turn pink. You had only ever heard him shouting, heard his roars in the distance when he chastised either you or his ranchmen. Now he uttered his words so low that you could hear the gravel in his throat, it made you want to press your ear to his padded chest and feel the vibrations of his sonorous voice directly from its origin. 

You took the same time to inspect him - realising you hadn’t ever seen him up this close, close enough to smell him. He smelt of hard work and cigar smoke, salt and musk, the warmth of his mammoth body reached out and touched you as if the evening air was suddenly cold. His smoky blue t-shirt had stains of sweat between his broad pectorals and down from his neck, the cotton coated in dust - he had only just turned in from a long day of wrangling, hadn’t yet had the chance to shower or to change. 

He lifted a bronzed and furry arm to lean his elbow against the jamb of the door, so thick with well-earned muscle they threatened to tear the sleeves of his shirt with the slightest flex. You wondered if he picked up his cows with his bare arms, carried them around like they weighed no more than bales of hay. 

His cheeks were ruddy with sunburn and vigour, his firm jaw coated by a dark and barely kempt beard, specked with silvers. His expression was stern, though a glimmer of interest in his steel-blue eyes belied his severity. Heavy lids hung low by virtue of looking down at you, his lips in an analytical curl under the thick moustache that grew under his nose. 

You blinked up at him, and opened your lips to speak - but a gruff snicker from him sucked the air from your lungs before you could utter a word to greet him. 

“Brought me a gift?” He asked richly, glare stuck on you and not the sack of ruby-red jam you hung from your fingers. 

Finding yourself, you gave him a pursed smile. “Lawrence made me come and say hi.” 

“Made you, did he?” He snorted, oozing a knowing arrogance. 

“Yep,” you said, lifting the bag to present it to him. “Eve cooked up some jam.” 

You saw his temples bulge as his jaw clenched tightly, expression sinking into what looked to you like twisted disappointment. 

“Nice o’ you,” he grunted disinterestedly, paying no mind to your olive branch. After a troubled sigh, he asked; “Where’ve you been, lil’ miss Honeybee?” 

The use of your nickname made gooseflesh shiver down your spine. He could only have heard that from your siblings or their ranchmen - how often had they spoken to him? Discussed you while you weren’t there to hear it? Last you thought, they never interacted at all. Now, he seemed to mock you with it. 

But he uttered it so casually, with such a coating of sugar, that it rinsed you like praise. 

“Just working,” you replied flatly, shuffling on your feet, vaguely embarrassed to admit you had abandoned the job already. “In the city.” 

“Mh,” he hummed, giving you a placid nod. “Back for good?”

You bit back the smirk that coaxed your lips. “Maybe.” 

“I’ll have to build a taller fence, then, won’t I?” 

Unable to discern if there was any humour in the forcefulness of his tone, your tongue curled behind your teeth as you tried to find a response that wouldn’t incriminate you. 

And you failed. “I’m a good climber.” 

He didn’t quite smile, you saw his chest rise and fall with a hounded breath. 

“I bet you are.” 

an: hey y'all, as some may recognise, this is the extendo version of my old drabble 'cowboy price'. Not yet the part 3 that many of you were asking for (i'm sorry), but there will be many more parts to come, and I hope they will sate our collective hunger for horny western Price!!

Above is only a snippet, the rest is on my Ao3. love youuuu <3

[mingi-s-dimples]

Saddle Up - Yungi

KINKTOBER DAY 3, REQ. BY anon 🍞

~ "Would definitely love a YunGi x reader fic! YunGi as cowboys, and they frequent a pub where they grow attached to the owner's daughter (reader). Up to you how it plays out, but definitely lots of spit play, praise kink, double penetration, anal, degradation is good too! Maybe use of sex toys 🤭 just pure FILTH!"

pairing: cowboy!yungi x fem!reader

genre: 18+, western cowboy au, fwb, filth

summary: you've been helping around at your father's pub for a while, and two men became loyal customers. Little did you know they'd grow fond of you and.. they'd propose something.. tempting.

wc: 3.3k

warnings: fwb dynamic, cowboy au, big dick!yungi (obvi), cocky & bratty reader, manhandling, spit kink, cock sucking, cock warming, double penetration, customersfingering, mouth fucking, deepthroating, creampie, lots of cum, cum play, unprotected (wrap up irl!), completely consensual!, unedited, for sure forgot something.

Author's Note: THIS WAS AWESOME TO WRITE ! I loved the cowboy au idea you gave me, anon.. it truly was a wonderful experience and idea to imagine and bring to life. I hope you liked how I wrote it ! Enjoy it, my love 🍞💖 (you can send me an ask with the emoji and number/idea and tell me your opinion !! I'd love to know it).

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction & does not represent in any way the reality of the member.

The soft hum of voices, clinking glasses, and the occasional burst of laughter filled the air in your father’s pub. It was a place that felt like home in every sense of the word. You'd grown up here, watching your father serve drinks and tell stories to the regulars who wandered in after long days working the ranches. And lately, two of those regulars had started to capture your attention more than most.

Yunho and Mingi.

They weren’t like the other men who frequented the pub. Sure, they were cowboys through and through, with their worn leather boots, wide-brimmed hats, and the rough callouses on their hands that spoke of long hours spent in the saddle. But there was something different about them—something that made you glance their way more often than you should.

Yunho, with his tall, broad frame and gentle demeanor, always greeted you with a smile that made your heart skip a beat. There was something steady about him, a quiet strength that radiated from his every movement. He was polite, respectful, and kind, the type of man who would hold the door open for you without thinking twice.

And then there was Mingi—loud, playful, and with a mischievous glint in his eye that never failed to make you laugh. He had a way of making everything feel lighter, as if the weight of the world didn’t matter when he was around. His teasing always came with a grin that made your cheeks warm, and you found yourself looking forward to his playful banter more than you'd like to admit.

Over the past few months, they had become a fixture in your daily life. Whenever they came in, they made sure to talk to you, whether it was asking about your day or just making you laugh with some ridiculous story about their time on the ranch. You had grown fond of them, maybe more than you should’ve, but there was no harm in a little attraction, right?

You figured that’s all it was—a harmless crush. After all, they were always respectful, never crossing any lines. It was easy to enjoy their company without worrying about things getting complicated.

At least, that’s what you thought.

---

It was late one evening, the pub quieter than usual with only a few stragglers left nursing their drinks. You had just finished wiping down the bar when you overheard them talking. Yunho and Mingi were sitting in their usual spot by the window, their heads close together as they spoke in hushed voices. You wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but their voices carried just enough for you to catch snippets of the conversation.

“I’m telling you, she’s been looking at us differently lately,” Mingi said, his voice laced with excitement.

“You think so?” Yunho replied, sounding a little more hesitant, but there was a spark of curiosity in his tone. “I’ve noticed it too, but I didn’t want to jump to conclusions.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you realized they were talking about you. You quickly busied yourself with cleaning, trying to look like you wasn’t paying attention, but you couldn’t stop your ears from straining to hear more.

“She’s interested,” Mingi continued confidently. “And we’ve been talking about this for a while. I think it’s time we make a move.”

Yunho chuckled softly. “And you think she’ll go for it?”

“Why not? We’re not asking for a relationship or anything heavy. Just… fun. And I think she might be into that.”

Your breath caught in your throat. Fun? What exactly were they planning? You felt a flush rise to your cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and curiosity swirling inside. Were they really talking about what you.. thought they were?

Before you could gather your thoughts, they stood up and started walking toward the bar. Your heart pounded in your chest as they approached, mind racing with all the possibilities. You weren’t sure what you was expecting them to say, but you knew one thing for sure—you weren’t ready for whatever was coming next.

Yunho was the first to speak, his voice calm and steady, just like always. “Hey, we wanted to talk to you about something.”

You looked between the two of them, feeling suddenly nervous. “What’s up?”

Mingi, ever the bold one, grinned down at you, leaning on the bar with a playful glint in his eyes. “We’ve been thinking, and… well, we’ve noticed that you’ve been looking at us a little differently lately.”

Your heart leaped into your throat, but you tried to play it cool. “What do you mean?”

Yunho stepped in, his expression more serious but still gentle. “We’ve both grown pretty fond of you, and we get the sense that you might feel the same. So… we were wondering if you’d be interested in, you know, something more casual. Between the three of us.”

You blinked, taken aback by the directness of his words. “Casual?”

“Yeah,” Mingi chimed in, his grin widening. “Nothing serious, just… friends with benefits. The three of us. If you’re into it.”

Your mind was spinning. Friends with benefits? With both of them? The idea sent a thrill of excitement rushing through you, but at the same time, you felt a wave of skepticism. Was this really a good idea? you had never considered something like this before, and the thought of getting involved with both of them, even if it was just casual, seemed like it could complicate things.

“I don’t know…” you began, hesitating as you looked between them. “Are you guys serious about this?”

Yunho nodded, his expression calm but sincere. “We wouldn’t have brought it up if we weren’t. But there’s no pressure. If you’re not into the idea, we’ll drop it.”

Mingi leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “But if you are into it… I think we could all have a lot of fun.”

You bit your lip, feeling your heart race as you considered their offer. It was risky, sure. But there was something undeniably exciting about the idea. They were both attractive, charming, and they had always been good to you. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

After a long pause, you finally nodded, feeling a rush of adrenaline course through. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

Mingi’s grin widened, and Yunho’s eyes sparkled with quiet approval. “Good choice,” Mingi said, his voice dripping with excitement.

The night that followed was a blur of touches and whispers, a heated dance of tension that had been building between us for far too long. It was thrilling and intense, everything you hadn’t known you were craving, and as the night stretched on, it became clear that this was only the beginning.

Being with them—both of them—was more intoxicating than you had ever imagined. The tension that had been simmering beneath the surface finally boiled over, and what started as curiosity quickly turned into something deeper, something more passionate.

By the time the night ouy ended, you knew one thing for sure: this arrangement, this casual thing between the three of you, was going to be a lot more than just a fling. And as you lay there, tangled between them, mind already racing with the possibilities, you realized that maybe this was exactly what you had been waiting for all along. But... the night was just.. getting started.

"So... y/n." Yunho started, looking contently in your eyes, his left hand traveling up your body. Mingi's right hand was also on your body, feeling you up.

"Wanna come over?" Mingi continued.

You were stunned for a moment because of the sudden direct question, but you didn't hesitate any longer and agreed. "Y-yes"

"Good girl. Let's go" Yunho whispered.

---

"Make yourself at home, darling" the taller one said.

"Oh, yes sure. Thanks" you smiled at him.

"So...what should I do to you, sweetie? Mingi's hands on your waist, one of them on your ass, squeezing it softly and his other hand on your lower back, pulling you closer to him.

"Oh, yes... tell us. What are.. your fantasies? Hm?" the taller one smirked, caressing your chin, from behind your back.

As the two men were starting to fondle with your body, Mingi with your ass and waist... Yunho with your chin and breasts, you could already feel Yunho's pants getting thighter against your ass. You gasped softly at the sensation, pushing yourself back more into his crotch. He groaned at your suddent touch, manhandling you to face him in a second.

"What a naughty slut are you.. arching your back to feel me more? Don't worry... you'll feel me well and more than enough tonight." Yunho said and picked you up, followed by Mingi. He dropped you on the bed, the two men towering over you.

"Mingi.. get the toy." the other one said and took off his clothes, being left only in his briefs. He was... fucking huge. You gulped.

"Let's see..." Mingi said and undressed himself, but him completely bare in front of you. His dick sprung out of his briefs, angrily hard and throbbing with every move of his and yours, coming closer to you.

"Yunho, undress her please"

"On it"

You were basically.. at their disposal. But was it uncomfortable for you? Not at all. You were in fact turned on by their manhandling, arousal already pooling in your panties. Yunho took off your blouse and corset, then your thight skirt.

"Fuck." he looks at you, like he'd want to eat you right there and then.

Yunho pushed you on the bed, crawling over to you and his hands went traveling on your body. His right hand went down to your thighs, spreading them out slightly. His slender long fingers took of your panties forcefully, leaving you bare and dripping in front of him.

"Hah.." he scoffed,"Already? You're so wet, baby" he said and without a warning he spread out your wet folds and started finger fucking you, your back arching at the sensation.

"Mingi, come here" Yunho whispered and even tho you were fucked out, you realised what he wanted him to do.

Mingi took the vibrator Yunho told him to get and put it to your clit, rubbing soft and slow circles around it. His free hand went to his lenghty and girthy cock, rubbing it lazily while watching you squirm and whine under the two.

"Uhgh- m-more!" you moaned out, while the two were overwhelming you with their touches. Mingi was circling your clit while Yunho was fingering you, both sending you over the edge.

"What a good girl... aren't you our good girl?" Mingi said.

"Y-yes !" you whined.

"And what a good slut.." Yunho dug his free hand in your thigh, your body arching.

"Hmm.. let's see how much you can take." the younger one said and pressed the vibrator harder on your clit, receiving some loud moans out of your now rapidly rising chest. He gave the vibrator to Yunho and you were now faced with him coming closer to your face, his cock hovering over your lips. You acted almost on instinct and kissed the red tip, looking up at Mingi. He gave you a nod, meaning you had to suck. You spit once on his cock and rubbed it a bit, then spit again to lube it up completely. You were already overwhelmed, but whatever he said you had to do so, you went right to work.

"Oh- damn, your mouth feels so good, y/n." he said.

You started by slowly sucking in his tip, trying to get accustomed to his girth. After you've seen both boys completely bare in front of you, you got to the conclusion that Mingi was way girthier than Yunho, but Yunho was lengthier... which either way was gonna hurt you relentlessly if they were gonna fuck you. Which... was gonna happen.

As you were sucking Mingi off, from his tip to the base and the whole shaft, Yunho without warning used two fingers in your other hole, receiving a moan and soft whines out of you, which revebrated through Mingi's dick. At the sensation and when you bit him down softly from the surprise he came down your throat, without any warning beforehand. He nodded again.

"Don't let a single drop go to waste, darling." the younger one smirked at you, his right hand going under your chin, lifting it up so you could get every single drop right down your throat.

"Such a good slut I have.." he said and wiped your lips clean, planting a kiss on your forehead.

You were also close to your high, been catching it for a while since Mingi started using the vibrator. You were so overwhelmed and overstimulated, even tho they just played with you until now. Only sloppy and whiny sounds could be heard in the whole room, from all 3 of you.

"Y/n... I'll be generous." Yunhi said and started finger fucking you forcefully, hitting all your perfect spots and curling his slender fingers inside you. You were clenching onto his fingers. taking him all up in your cunt. His fingers suddenly touched your cervix and you moaned at his touch, to which he fingered you a few more moments until the knot in your belly came undone, sticky white cum dripping off of his fingers when he pulled out. He sucked them dry, looking right into your eyes. It turned you the fuck on.

"Mingi... she's all lubed up. Lift her up." Yunho said and the younger one did as told, coming right under under you and letting you sit on him, pressing your back to his chest. Mingi's huge hands were now holding your waist, digging into your flesh. Yunho looked pleased at the position you both were in, smiling.

As your cunt was still dripping with your fluids, Yunho got an idea. He spit two, three times as close as possible to your core and used two of his fingers to gather some of it along with your cum, then lubed your other hole up with the mixture. You whined softly at the sensation, his spit feeling colder inside you. Mingi brought you up a little so he could line his cock to your ass, then softly tapped himself to your rim. You held onto his forearms as the two of them pushed themselves inside you at the same time, trying to bottom out but to no avail.

"Fuck... you're so thight."

"No shit... y-y'all are both inside m-me, mhmm" you whined cockily.

"Bratty?" you heard from under.

"Mhm, that's what I see." Yunhi said and forcefully pushed himself inside you, finally bottoming down, touching your cervix. You loudly moaned, arching your back but soon after being strictly held down by Mingi. It hurt so bad.. but it felt so good.

"M-more!" you shouted.

"And how do you politely ask for more, you little slut?" Yunho said, pounding rapidly into you.

"P-please ! P-please, more..." you whined.

"See? that's more to my liking." and he started fucking you even more rapidly and Mingi too. You could feel both cocks stretching you out so good, it hurt but oh god. Yunho had a proeminent vein on his length that you could suddenly feel rubbing against your clenching walls, driving both of you insane. The friction happening between all 3 of you didn't last too long as Mingi cursed a few times before coming right in you, followed by you. You let out some soft whines and tears fell from your eyes because of the pain and overstimulation.

"I'm not..." Yunho stopped for a moment.

"Done yet." he pushed himself fully inside you, his pelvis hitting yours, your back arching.

Mingi moved from under your body to the side and started watching you, catching his breath. As soon as he left, Yunho lifted you up and turned you around, his cock still inches deep inside you. You were now facing the linen, your face flushed and your eyes teary. He tangled his hand in your hair and arched your back with his elbow, then started rapidly and forcefully pounding into you, slapping sounds could be heard from him slamming against you.

"Y-Yunho ! Slow d-down!" you shouted.

"Nu-uh. You've been a little slut today... you were cocky a moment ago, where did your attitude go, hm?" he bottomed down and lifted you up, your back arched against his chest. One of his hands on your throat, slightly choking you... the other one on your waist, holding you close. You could almost feel that he was close. His thrusts became sloppier and heavier, with every and each of his thrusts your ass slapping against his pelvis and thighs, his hands finding warmth on your throat and waist, his kisses trailing your shoulders and back. He thrusted a few more times forcefully, almost animalistic, and came in your cunt, fucking you through his orgasm. You were overstimulated... but Mingi had other plans.

His cock was once again fully hard and throbbing. But that wasn't the highlight of the moment. He kneeled down in front of you on the bed and brought your head to his aching cock, unsticking your back from Yunho's chest. You were now fucked by Yunho and face fucked by Mingi.

"Love.. let me spoil you for the night." Yunho said and the hand that was on your waist slowly went to your cunt, his slender and long fingers circling your clit once again. Your mouth was filled with Mingi's cock, your cheeks feeling thight and the corners of your lips hurting. Mingi couldn't take it anymore, to see you slowly sucking his cock... so he took the problem in his own hands. He tangled his hand in your hair and started face fucking you again, deep throating you and feeling his cock hitting the back. You gagged twice on it, a satisfied look on Mingi's face could be seen if you looked above you. He patted your head, softly pulling out only to let you breathe, coughing a couple of times and gasping for air. You completely forgot how Yunho was ramming into you, your clit hurting from all the pressure he has inflicted.

"I've always wanted to fuck you.. y/n," the taller one said. "Not even fuck you.. but make love to you. I've always craved your lips, your soul.. my thoughts have always been filled with us softly kissing, tongues interlocking.." he was now slowing down, smoothly thrusting, almost making up for his just said words.

"Me too, y/n.. we've always wanted to get to know you better.. both as friends and, well.. sexually," he giggled, followed by Yunho smiling against your shoulder blade, sending shivers down your spine.

As both boys were now complimenting you.. kinda satisfied with the fact that you made them finish at least one time, they decided to also make you cum so.. Mingi started kissing you, holding you by your waist, while Yunho was working his way from the back, fondling with your ass and wildly ramming into your cunt. It wasn't long until you felt the well known knot form in your belly, and with a few thrusts of Yunho's, you came again, your orgasm being followed by squirting all over you and the boys. Mingi broke off the kiss and smirked playfully, slowly helping you off Yunho as soon as he slowed down his thrusts. He placed you on the bed and wiped you down with a cloth, then sat next to you. Yunho did the same.

"How was it?" they asked, in unison.

"F-fucking amazing..!" you softly said, still dizzy from all the action.

"Up for.. a 2nd round?" Mingi giggled.

"Wouldn't it be.. a 3rd round? Yunho smiled. "I'm joking, take your time, catch your breath.. we're not leaving you alone tonight." he said and planted a kiss on your forehead, softly stroking your thigh.

The night just started... and you were more than happy to spend it with them.

NETWORKS:

@blossomnet

@illusionnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @gong-fourz @arki-sha @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117

[sanjoongie]

𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝔽𝕠𝕦𝕣: ℙ𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕚𝕔 𝕊𝕖𝕩

🥀Pairing: Cowboy! San x wise woman! Reader (f)

🥀Genre: Smut

🥀Rating: 18+, Minors Do not Interact

🥀Au: western au, cowboy au, witch au

🥀Trope: fwb to lovers

🥀Summary: When San comes to you, the local wise woman (read rumored witch), to get a bullet wound dressed, he's also looking to convince you to let him under your skirts, and your heart

🥀Kinks: Public sex, penetrative sex with no barrier, San's a sweetheart and a tease, yes the cowgirl position with cowboy san 😆, thicc dick san

🥀Warnings: mentions of a gun fight, bullet wound, blood, tending to wound

🥀Word Count: 1,931

🥀Betas: @mejuii

🥀Day Three: mirror sex 🥀Mini Masterlist 🥀Day Five: Dacryphilia

You were tending to your herb garden when San cantered down the road to your cabin tucked against the mountain. You raised your hand to block out the sun and knew immediately who was making so much dust your way. If you didn’t recognize his white horse dappled with gray or the way he tilted his hat, you sure recognized the big ol grin he sported, defined by his dimples.

“San,” You greeted him as he drew his horse abreast of you, dusting off the dirt on your skirts.

“Ma’am,” San tipped his hat graciously, and then winced.

You clucked your tongue immediately. “What kinda trouble did you get into now?!” You demanded.

San’s smile widened. “Just a few bandits trying to get away with Hongjoong’s cattle.”

You jerked your head to the shed you used to treat the few brave townfolk that dare come to you for any illness. They swore you were a witch but you were just educated--unheard of in these parts, but then again, that’s why you settled here.

San swung his leg over and dismounted from his horse. San clucked his tongue at Silver Light, and lightly wrapped the reins around the post before your cabin, letting the horse drink water from the trough.

“Can you even take your jacket off?” You scolded your new patient, washing your hands quickly with the lye soap you kept near the basin.

“I--” San hissed as he moved his arm again and you sighed heavily.

“When are you going to use any sense of self-preservation?” You said with your hands on your hips, after wiping them on a rag.

San paused jacket half pulled off, held up his elbows. Instead of answering your question he sent you a wounded look. “Help?”

You grumbled about men having less sense than a chicken but carefully helped him off with his heavy, long jacket. You cast an analytical eye over San’s injuries. “Lie to me, San.” It would be better if San kept himself distracted by talking.

San took a seat in the only chair in the shed and began to weave his tale. “Well you see, the bandits don’t have any wrangling experience so the herd was pretty much running with their own instincts and no matter of hooting or hollering was making those cows go where the bandits wanted them to,” San told you, more than happy to speak of a story that would probably make him look good in your eyes.

You fetched forceps to pull out the bullet clearly lodged in San’s arm and a bottle of whiskey. You splashed the forceps with some of the liquid before handing the bottle to San. He took a swig. It wasn’t his first time in your chair and it wouldn’t be the last, the damn fool. The only tells that he was hurting as you dug for the bullet were tiny creases at the corner of his eyes, but for the most part, he didn’t whimper or whine, not once.

By the time you had extracted the bullet, San had told you about leaping from Silver to the lead bull’s back and forcing it to turn by grabbing the bull’s horns firmly and turning its head. You rolled your eyes and San laughed, high-pitched and light, at your response.

You dipped a clean rag in some of the whiskey and dabbed at his wound. This time he groaned and you slanted a glare his way. San pushed out his lower lip. “Come on, Darling, give me some sympathy. I saved Hongjoong’s whole herd!”

You finished bandaging his arm up. “You will get no sympathy from me, Choi San,” You refused, “And what did I tell you about calling me darling?”

San’s good arm wrapped firmly around your waist and brought you onto his lap. “You told me to never call you darling again,” He told you solemnly. “But I can’t forget about that night we shared.”

You rubbed your eyebrow. “San,” You said his name in warning, “You can’t be associated with me. The whole damn town thinks you’re a local hero. If they think you’re warming the bed of the local witch--”

“I don’t care what they think,” San said, voice getting low and husky, “I care about--”

You laughed bitterly and got up. Or tried to. San’s damn arms, one injured or not, were strong. You weren’t a frail Bank Owner’s daughter but you still didn’t stand a chance against that man. “Let me go, San.”

San sighed, defeated, and let you go. “Okay, Darling, don’t get your skirts in a twist.”

You let out a screech of frustration and stomped out of the shed, slamming the door. San’s eyes were wide at your tantrum and your reaction only made him chase after you. “Wait, I didn’t--”

You made it to the well before San caught up with you. “No, you didn’t, San, and that’s the point. You don’t think and every day I see someone galloping up that road, I’m sure it’s going to be one of the other boys to tell me you got yourself injured or worse!”

“You keep talking like that a cowboy might start thinking you were soft on him,” San teased you.

“Don’t you start!” You waggled your finger at San. San was back to grinning again and you rolled your eyes again. “You’re incorrigible!”

“My mama always told me that,” San nodded, conceding to you. “But she also told me that if I ever found a woman who had a soft spot for me to--”

“San, no,” You shook your head. You turned around to lower the bucket into your well and draw up some new water.

San’s callused, uninjured hand covered yours on the well lip. “Darling, please.”

You shook your head. “You’ll be ostracized. They’ll spit on you. What if Hongjoong doesn’t want to employ you at his ranch anymore? We can’t get married, they won’t let me within yards of that church. Any children--”

San pushed your shoulder with his good one. “Children, huh?”

“San,” You said, “I’m serious.”

San’s eyes were hooded and your stomach dipped. “I’m serious too. Let me learn your body again, Darling?”

You swallowed, the lack of moisture having everything to do with the cowboy in front of you. You put your hands on his chest, smooth over the leather vest and then pulled him closer. “You’re going to regret this.”

A slow, crooked smile pulled at San’s lips, flashing his teeth at you. “I don’t regret anything I do in life, other than when I let you push me away the first time.”

His head dipped and he captured your lips between his. His kiss was slow and sensual, giving you all the time in the world to push him away if you chose so. And when you didn’t, he tilted his head to suck your lower lip between his. You moaned into his mouth. He chuckled against your lips and pulled away. “You’re gonna have to help me with your skirts, Darling. I’m one arm down and that’s a sin when I’m finally able to fuck you good.”

Your eyes widened. It was almost high noon and almost anyone could come this way. “San, surely not out here?”

“Yes, out here,” San said, husky voice only adding moisture to your nether regions.

“I’m not going to let you mount me like a damn saloon girl!” You protested.

San tilted your head up with his good hand and kissed you again, softly. “Give me a thrill, Witchy Woman. You know half the town doesn’t dare come up here ‘cuz they think you’re going to be naked and covered in chicken’s blood. It’ll be fine.”

“Get hard at the thought of that?” You challenged him.

“Hell yes,” He chuckled.

Your eyes scanned the outdoor area. There was a real soft patch of grass near the big oak tree. “You lie down, cowboy. I’m not the injured one.”

San wrapped an arm around your waist and meandered towards said tree, unwilling to let you go farther than an arms length from him again. “You gonna ride me, Darling?”

“San,” You growled a warning again.

San laughed again and your heart beat against your chest. “If I was afraid of a strong woman, I wouldn’t have come to you the first time I got beat up after that young stallion bucked me when I was trying to break him in?”

San laid down on the sweet patch of grass in front of your oak tree. He was already hard and pressed up against his jeans, chaps only outlining his hard-on. You freed his cock, and then pulled up your skirts to slot it against your wet entrance.

You sunk down on him, slowly taking his girth. San’s hand rubbed your hips through your skirts, encouraging you to take your time. Staring down his nose, he looked delectable lying under you. His arms bulged from restraining himself, free from his heavy jacket, and only his vest covering the ample chest you knew was under.

“S-san,” You stuttered, still struggling with getting him fully inside of you.

“Your cunt’s so sweet for me,” San cooed at you, biting down on his lip, “So wet and inviting. It’s like I’m coming home.”

“Shut up,” You said half-heartedly, “Who ever heard of a cowboy who waxed poetic. Aren’t you just supposed to grunt while you fuck me?”

San chuckled. “But you’re fucking me, rememeber?” San whimpered when your walls clamped down on his length at his remark. “You like being in charge, Darling?”

“You’re hardly--hnnnffff--in any position to not listen to me--ahhhhh--” You rolled your hips experimentally and found that you were wet and opened up enough to move.

“Gonna fuck me good, Darling?” San continued to encourage you. “Fuck,” He bit down aggressively on his bottom lip again, practically sucking it in, “You really do know how to use those hips of yours.”

“Hnnnnn--San,” You whined, “You’re too--oh god--” San had tensed his pelvis muscle and suddenly you were able to bounce more aggressively against him.

“Come on, sweetness, give me everything you’ve got.” San locked gazes with you. He practically had hearts in the center of each of his irises. Goddamn it, this man was so sweet on you, and you felt your walls melt under his adoring gaze.

Your knees were getting stained by the grass under you but you were past the point of caring. You worked San’s length inside of you until the both of you were a whimpering, whining mess. You came first, shouting his name and seeing stars behind your eyelids. San felt your walls flutter around him and then he was a goner as well, attempting to hold you down on his cock as he unloaded inside of you.

“That’s it, Darling, you milk me dry. It’s all for you,” San groaned loudly, eyes rolling into the back of his head. He was smiling like he was a cat with milk, however. “With that orgasm, I’ll be rolling out of your bed tomorrow morning, good as new.”

Your eyes widened at his declaration. Before you could protest, San shook his head. “I’m staying and you can’t talk me out of it. You gotta take care of me. I’m injured.”

You sighed heavily but this time it wasn’t serious at all. “You really are incorrigible, Choi San. What am I going to do with you?”

“It’d be nice if you fucked me when the sun is pretty and setting but that might be wishful thinking on my part,” San mumbled with an adorable pout.

🥀Day Three: mirror sex 🥀Mini Masterlist 🥀Day Five: Dacryphilia

[asphalt-cocktail]

Lead Us to Temptation- Masterlist

Summary: In the small town of Eden Ridge, you knew several things to be true: church happened every Sunday, the saloon served free lunch with the purchase of a drink on Thursdays, coal miners left work at 7PM sharp, and Bucky Barnes was a man sent from the depths of hell dangling the threat of temptation and sin right in front of your face. All you need to do is reach out and grab it.

Pairing: Outlaw!Bucky Barnes X Reader

Warnings: Cowboy/western/outlaw AU, religious themes, Midwestern Gothic, dark themes, guns, violence, misogyny, crass language, alcohol, smoking, explicit content, mature content, overall mature themes. The story takes place a little further north than the typical wild west setting because I am a Midwestern girl at heart. Bucky is going to be 10 years older than reader (i am trying not to use Y/N). The time line is the late 1880s/1890s. As always my reader is most likely plus sized/curvy. If you see any Red Dead Redemption references no you didn't

DNI if you are under 18 or if these themes upset you.

Read me on AO3

A/N: Well howdy there folks! Isn't it crazy when you say you're going to retire from writing fanfictions and then are possessed to write one? Anyways I'm back and better than ever and I hope you all enjoy the ramblings of someone who is terminally H word if you know what I mean. As always, likes and reblogs are immensely appreciated. There will be no tag list because i am far too lazy to do that, but feel free to turn on notifications for me or bookmark it on AO3 where it will also be posted per usual. Also I'm sorry if its not 100% historically accurate, I'm doing a lot of research in fashion and what not but at the end of the day I'm just a girl. The tag to find this in my blog will be #LUT

🔥- Smut

Chapter 1- Precious Lord Take my Hand

Chapter 2- Good Old Fashioned Catholic Guilt 🔥

Chapter 3- Hell Hath No Fury

[floral-force]

Saddle Tramp - Chapter 1

ONCE UPON A TIME IN THE WEST

simon "ghost" riley x f!reader - old west/cowboy/western au

summary: Anything is possible in the American West--unless your destiny is predetermined. When your fate as the heiress of a railroad magnate becomes entangled with that of a drifting bounty hunter, you ride into a world of opportunity. Despite your differences, something blooms between you and the masked man that is truly once in a lifetime. Saddle up for a journey west full of rugged terrain, kisses under the stars, smoky saloons, and finding love when you least expect it. (Loosely based on spaghetti westerns and the myth of Hades and Persephone.)

words: 2.7k+

warnings/tags/disclaimers: my work/blog is always 18+ only. I do not own any of the media I reference. alcohol and tobacco use, VERY brief and mild sexual imagery, cowboy ghost does something to me, bounty hunter/cowboy task force 141, references to westerns/media in western settings

a/n: at last...I RETURN!! and I come with the first chapter of a fic that has been bouncing around in my skull for nearly a year. I listened to saddle tramp and I finally fleshed it out. I hope y'all enjoy the ride <3 series masterlist | read on ao3 | join the tag list

The hiss of steam and excited chatter hit your ears as soon as you stepped off the train. The trip from Chicago to Denver was comfortable, but nothing beat stretching tight muscles on solid ground. You ached at the thought of sitting again soon and considered yourself lucky to have such a problem. This trip had been a long time coming, but now that you were standing in Denver and faced with its new terrain and the prospect of your fate, a pit grew in your stomach where a flower should be. The sun late-morning sky and the crisp air refreshed your eyes and lungs after nearly five days of gas lamps and poor ventilation. A luxurious trip came at a cost greater than money, you thought, wincing while rolling your shoulders.

You heard a man call your name and snapped your head to the right as he approached you with the two bulging leather bags you’d packed. You walked towards him, picking up your skirt so you could increase your pace. Despite the cool spring air, beads of sweat formed on your skin as you hurried towards the end of the train. You wiped your dewy forehead with the back of your hand and huffed, hoping nobody could discern your discomfort. You stopped at the middle of the train to meet the man carrying your bags in his crisp blue uniform. As he came into view, you recognized his short brown hair and lean frame—it was Douglas, your father’s assistant.

“Miss, you didn’t need to meet me here!” 

You politely smiled and smoothed out your skirts. “Well, here I am, sir.”

He cleared his throat and looked to his right at the bustling station. “The stage is waiting for you.”

“Here, let me take these off your hands,” you said, reaching for the luggage.

“No, miss, I couldn’t let you carry them! Your father would murder me if he found out.”

You yanked them out of his hands and met his wide green eyes. “He won’t, Mr. Douglas. Now, I’d really love to get the last leg of my trip over with. Traveling is hell for my head.”

“Right this way,” he sighed, motioning for you to follow him through the throng of people.

This wasn’t your first time in Denver, but it was a one-way trip. Your rigorous education groomed you to take over your family’s business, and your father finally decided it was time to begin the hands-on portion of your training. Responsibility made it slightly easier to pack your bags and leave the bustling city you called home, but the expectations on your shoulders weighed your feet down. The only people waiting for you in Denver were Douglas and your father, and you doubted you’d be allowed to visit your aunts and cousins in Chicago within the next six months.

At least Colorado had scenic views and the scent of opportunity. It helped distract you from the bumpy ride in the stagecoach; the first-class passenger train car spoiled you more than you realized. 

“Only a few hours before we reach town, miss.”

“I don’t know how you stand this, Douglas. This is worse for my nausea than a choppy day on the lake or at sea.”

“You’ll adjust in time.”

“I hope so,” you grumbled, “because this is unbearable.”

Finally, the stagecoach came to a stop. Douglas exited and helped you step out, then gestured to the wooden posts framing a dusty main street. 

“Welcome to Steel Run!”

You forced a smile, then grabbed your bags from the driver. Just ahead of the posts, you saw your father speaking with another man on the shaded porch of what you assumed to be the sheriff’s office. Squinting up at the awning, a large sign confirmed your guess. Douglas snatched your bags before you could protest, then urged you to follow him towards your new life.

“Mr. Clarke!”

Your father turned at Douglas’ call, then beamed when he saw you. He abandoned the conversation and walked towards you with his arms out. You fell into his hug and savored the small comfort despite the conflict in your chest. He said your name and planted a kiss on the top of your head. You looked up at him when he pulled away, hoping that your expression gave nothing away.

 “I’m so happy you made it here safely. I trust the journey here was enjoyable?”

“It was, until the ride in the stage.”

He laughed. “You’ll become accustomed to it.”

“That’s what I told her, Mr. Clarke,” Douglas chirped.

“Good man!” 

Your father’s hearty laugh echoed in your head and bounced off the buildings. You leaned to the left and looked past your father’s shoulder at the man standing awkwardly on the porch. He met your eyes, his hair cut short on his head and his clothes perfectly tailored. A badge pinned on his vest glinted when he shifted towards you. You furrowed your brow and nodded your chin at him.

“Who is he?”

“Oh, that fellow?” Your father twisted to look back, then gestured for the man to join your clump. 

When he finally reached your father’s side, he gave you a slight bow. “I’m Phillip Graves. It’s a pleasure, miss.”

You gave him a weak smile. “How do you know my father?”

“My father used some of the profits from his fur trade to fund much of your father’s railroad company. When he passed a month ago, I took over and I’ve been working closely with Mr. Clarke ever since.”

“Phillip, please call me George. We’ll be closer than business partners soon.”

Closer than business partners? What in the hell was your father implying? Your hands grew clammy.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Mr. Graves.”

“Please, call me Phillip.”

Your father clapped him on the shoulder. “Well, I’ll let you get back to your duties as deputy. I wouldn’t want you to upset Sherriff Ryan.”

“I will see you later then, George.” He gave you a nod and took your hand, kissing your knuckles. “It was a pleasure. I look forward to seeing you again.”

Phillip turned and marched into the building. Your father watched him, then snapped back to focus his wide grin on you. 

“I apologize for the short notice, but I’m hosting a welcome party for you tonight.”

“Tonight?” Your eyes widened and you groaned. “Father, you cannot be serious. I look a mess and the clothes I packed need to be ironed!”

“I went to the trouble of having the seamstress sew something together for you.”

“You didn’t have to—"

A sudden hug forced the air out of your lungs with an oof. “Consider it a welcome gift.” He pulled back and sighed. “Now, let’s head home.”

As you marched down the road towards your father’s property—no, your new home—Douglas pointed out a few notable storefronts. The seamstress on the right, the general store on the left, the saloon on the corner where a new street intersects the main road—“We named it Providence Street,” your father noted—and the doctor just across the street from it. How convenient, you mused as you passed the door. You peered down the street while you walked through the intersection. Meek dwellings peppered it, the short, small cabins housing hopeful prospectors. The buildings lining the road started to spread apart from each other, only one property claiming the very end of main street. 

Finally, your trio approached the two-story home, its slanted roof and warm brown wood suddenly imposing under high noon. You stopped to stare when your toes reached the brick path leading to a shaded porch, the awning supported by four solemn cedar posts. In the distance, mountains scarred the sky; scattered around the home were the trees you’d watched crawl higher and stretch wider throughout the years. Your eyes flitted over the rope swing you’d abandoned after adolescence as a gentle breeze swayed the wooden seat. Lush green leaves offered shade around the property and wildflowers dotted it with splotches of color—you were glad you’d convinced your father to let nature take its course.

“You’re staring as if you’ve never seen it,” your father chuckled, snapping you out of your daze.

“Just savoring the moment, Papa.”

“There will be plenty of time for that later, my dove. For now, let’s go inside—you’ve had a long journey.”

You nodded and followed him, Douglas trailing behind you. Your father opened the front door and held it open for you with a wide smile. Your knees were weak as you crossed the threshold, the sweat on your skin and soaking into your clothes suddenly overwhelming. Excusing yourself and promising your return soon, you hurried up the plain white staircase with Douglas following in your frantic footsteps.

Immediately to the right at the top of the stairs was the door to your room. You turned to Douglas and held out your hands for your bags; he obliged with a nod and rushed back downstairs.

As soon as you stepped inside your room and shut the creaky door, your bags slipped out of your hands and hit the floor with a thud. Afternoon sun flooded the room through the windows in front of you and to your right, its burning light filtered by sheer white curtains. The chestnut armoire in the middle of the wall on your left faced a matching bed with plush sheets and pillows. A sweet siren song called you over and pulled you onto the mattress, finally relieving the fatigue you’d been fighting since morning. It bounced as you flopped belly-first onto it with a groan and a curse. 

Out of the corner of your eye you noticed rich purple fabric draped across your reading chair in the corner, and something sparkled on the side table next to it. You decided to investigate later as your eyes fluttered shut, the siren of sleep pulling you into the sea of dreams.

A clang filled Simon’s ears when the bars of the town jail cell closed, the air thick under the bandana hiding half his face. Outside, there was a muffled whinny—probably Johnny’s impatient Pinto, Eejit. On his left stood Price, stroking his beard and watching the sheriff like a hawk as he counted out their reward. Johnny leaned against the doorframe with a hand in his pocket while Gaz looked over the wanted posters nailed into the back wall. The deputy stood over the sheriff’s shoulder across from Simon to observe the transaction. The bounty they’d brought in muttered in the cell, no doubt sending curses their way.

“Eight, nine, one thousand.” The sheriff slid the stack of bills across his desk. He tipped his hat. “Thank you kindly, gentlemen.”

“Happy to help,” Price said, pocketing the money.

“Bastards! My men will kill you!” The bounty yelled, knuckles white as he gripped the cell’s iron bars. The unbothered sheriff lit a cigarillo and offered one to the deputy, who turned it down.

“Not if we get to’em first, mate,” Gaz responded. Simon turned to see him rip a few posters off the wall and hand them to Johnny, his careful hands folding them one by one.

Price turned his back to the sheriff. “Let’s go, lads. Saw a pub down th’road.”

The deputy interrupted their exit with a scoff. “The saloon is at the corner across from the general store.”

Simon turned on his heel and sent a hidden scowl his way, eyebrows pressed together. The deputy withered under the searing gaze but to his credit, he barely showed it. 

“I don’ give a fuck what you Yanks call it. If it serves whiskey and I pay for it, it’s a fuckin’ pub.”

He stormed out of the sheriff’s office and joined his group outside. Gaz and Johnny smirked at him as they untied their horses’ reins from the hitching rail, but Price shook his head. He started to count the money out and met Simon’s eyes under his hat when he gave him his cut. Even though no words were said, Simon could hear the older man scolding him for mouthing off. He smirked under his face cloth; Price knew that even a smack with the butt of his pistol wouldn’t change Simon. They joined the other two at their horses, untying them and urging them up the road single file.

A short walk up the road, and they were tying their horses up and then entering the town saloon. Jaunty music paused when Price parted the swinging doors and led the other three men inside, and it resumed once they swung closed behind Simon. Johnny wasted no time sauntering up to the bar and ordering a bottle of whiskey with four glasses while the others staked their claim on a table along the wall across from it. It was livelier than Simon had expected it to be in the late afternoon; the sun could still cut through the hazy, smoky air and shine on their sins. Gaz waved off a saloon girl and settled into the chair facing the wall, making sure not to block Simon’s view of the street outside.

Johnny arrived and set the whiskey and glasses in the center of the table with a grin. “Drink up lads, firs’ one ‘s’on me.” 

Price poured the amber alcohol, and each man took a glass. He raised his in the air and said, “Cheers to a job well done.”

“May the next one be even easier,” Gaz added.

They shared a chuckle and clinked their glasses. The whiskey burnt Simon’s throat, but it was a welcome change from stale canteen water. The longer he lived in the States, the more he got used to their pathetic excuse for whiskey. Johnny refilled his glass as soon as he set it down. Simon raised his eyebrow, and the Scot only shrugged before taking a sip of his refreshed drink. He supposed this was Johnny’s way of telling him to relax—maybe tonight, he would.

But it would take more than a bottle of whiskey, that was for bloody sure.

“I’ll be right back,” Simon flashed his container of tobacco as he stood up.

Gaz looked up quizzically. “Why won’ya smoke in here, Ghost?”

Simon shook his head and pushed his chair in. “Too many people in here starin’.”

He cut off any protest before it could begin with hurried steps back outside and onto the creaky wooden porch. A deep breath of fresh air instantly calmed his nerves. He turned to the right where there was shade and leaned against a sun-bleached post in front of where their posse’s horses were tied up. After calming his flighty eyes, he tugged his face cloth down and under his chin. Finally, he placed a cigarillo he’d rolled just the night prior by the campfire light between his chapped lips and lit it with the steady hand he used to fire the pistol on his hip. The first drag was smoother than the ride into town, an unexpected treat. He was going to make this last and blame the long smoke break on the distant mountains piercing the sky.

He'd be lying if he said American scenery was blander than boiled potatoes.

Shadows grew longer as the sun descended towards the horizon, late-afternoon light trickling over the land. Another deep inhale numbed his mind, a smoky exhale danced towards the blue sky. Two men in crisp suits walked past and glanced at him, then quickly returned to their lively conversation after noticing the holsters on his hips. This town was perfect for a quick bounty and a drink, but not much more, Simon decided, flicking ash on the ground. He watched the smoke rise as the gray bits fluttered down and landed on the porch, robbed of the chance to meet freedom above, doomed to a fate they couldn’t change. He put the rolled tobacco back in his mouth and looked up. 

Then, he saw her.

She stood in front of the general store fiddling with a piece of paper. The cigarillo nearly fell out of his mouth when the clouds parted and doused her in golden rays. She held her hand over her eyes and turned to her right, briefly scanning her surroundings and stopping on him. She returned his stare and made Simon her captive. If she walked over and demanded that he get on his knees and get under her skirt, he’d happily oblige. He shook his head and got the image out of his head—it was wrong to think of a lass like that, even more so when she looked that damn angelic.

When he opened his eyes, she had vanished, and his cigarillo was burnt out. He dropped it to the ground and snuffed it with the toe of his boot until it was ashy mush. He yanked the cloth back up over his nose and pushed the saloon doors open with a bang. His posse turned where they sat, watching him march to their table. His proposition would be a tough sell, but he had money in his pocket and would waste it all on squeaky beds and shitty whiskey if it meant they’d agree to it.

“We have to stay another night, lads.”

next

taglist: @johfaam0 @johfaam @nickangel13 @oliviagreenaway @sinfulsalutations @dheet @tizylish @sofasoap

[samsseptember]

Samtember 2023 Calendar, Rules, and Guidelines!

Hi, Sam Wilson Nation! It's that time of year again when we all get together to celebrate our beloved Sam Wilson's birth month. That's right, it's ✰samtember2023✰ !!! 🎉

As per usual, the event will be running from Friday, September 1st to Saturday, September 30th and there will be prompts set for each day:

Fluff/Family Week (and Two Days):

September 1 - Free Space

September 2 - First Flight | Riley  

September 3 - Delacroix | Louisana

September 4 - Siblings | Uncle Sam

September 5 - Fishing | Camping

September 6 - Day Off | Vacation

September 7 - Memories | The Future

September 8 - Figaro | Sick Day

September 9 - Carnival | King of Mardi Gras

Captain America Week:

September 10 - Cap Quartet 2.0 | Mission Fic

September 11 -  Workout | Team Training

September 12 - Shield | Legacy

September 13 - Interview | Rumor

September 14 - Magic | Multiverse

September 15 - Undercover | Amnesia 

September 16 - Night Out | Madripoor

AU Week:

September  17 - Wings | Angel

September  18 - Western AU | Cowboy  

September  19 - Celebrity AU | Royalty AU 

September  20 - Bird Telepathy | Redwing

September  21 - Zombie AU | Apocalypse AU 

September  22 - Hurt/Comfort | Disaster Fic

September  23 - Birthday 🎂🧁

Canon Week:

September  24 - In the Air Force | Time in D.C.

September  25 - Part-Time Avenger | On the Run

September  26 - Working for Fury | Wakanda

September  27 -  Post-Blip | TFATWS

September  28 - Post-TFATWS | Meanwhile, On the Boat

September  29 - Uniform | Cap Suit 

September  30 - Sam Wilson 

We have opened a collection on AO3 that can be found here, or by typing samtember2023 in the add to collections option.

You can also tag any works you post with #samtember2023 or tag this blog @samsseptember​ - works will be reblogged every day throughout the month. 

Can’t wait to see what everyone comes up with! 

What works count for this fan event?

Any of the following count:

fanfic

podfic

fanart

gifsets

photosets / moodboards

graphics

Haikus

videos / edits

playlists

Whichever way you want to celebrate Sam Wilson, it’s up to you! 

The rest of the FAQ and rules are under the cut.

FAQ

What is this?

It’s a Sam Wilson fan event.

Is there any pressure?

No pressure at all. Fill one prompt. Fill all the prompts on for the month. Do however many you please.

Can I fill more than one prompt with one piece of art/one fic?

Yes! You can fill one prompt with one piece of art or fic. You can try to fill all 30 prompts at once with one piece of art or fic. If you can fill every single prompt from every single day in one fill, that’d be wild but it’s okay by the rules. You can do any number in between.

Are there any prizes for making anything for this event?

Just the satisfaction that you made something cool.

Should the work I make be Sam Wilson-centric?

Yes. You can make a gen work or a piece with any ship with Sam Wilson in it, but the main focus should be Sam Wilson.

How long will this event run?

It will run from September 1st to September 30th.

I heard there are badges I can use for each fill?

There will be! They will come out daily.

Do I have to post my fic for the prompt on the day of the prompt?

You can if you'd like, but it's okay if you post a piece on a day other than the day of the prompt.

RULES AND GUIDELINES

What are the guidelines for the event?

I will be borrowing some of this from the MYSU Valentine’s Day Bingo 2022 Guidelines, since they were fantastic.

For Everyone:

1. Remember to tag @samsseptember in the post as well as #samtember2023.

2. Please also tag the prompt you’re using (for instance, if the square is “Redwing”, use “#redwing” as one of your tags when posting about it on Tumblr).

3. If you’re uploading to AO3, please:

a ) Say somewhere which prompt you’re filling.

b ) Add it to The Samtember Collection (under Samtember2023).

For Artists:

1. Create at least one piece of new art that can’t have been posted anywhere else before this.

2. All visual art forms are welcome:

a ) Gifsets or photosets, at least 3 gifs or photos.

b ) Aesthetic boards or moodboards, at least 4 images each.

c ) Drawing/painting, that is not a sketch.

d) Fan video.

e) Graphics edit.

For Authors:

1. At least 500 words.

2. Posted on Tumblr or AO3.

3. Can be part of a series, but should work as a standalone.

For Podficcers:

1. The podfic should at least be 10 minutes long.

2. It should be posted on either Tumblr or AO3.

3. The podfic can be of a fic made for the event, a fic not made for the event while still adhering to the prompt, or a notfic.

Things to be mindful of when creating:

For Sam

Avoid framing Sam only as a caretaker or emotional support for Bucky. Be mindful of Sam acting angry or aggressive in an out-of-character way and falling into the angry/sassy Black man trope (check out the MCU source material to help with character traits).

Avoid decentering Sam as a main character and refrain from focusing entirely on Bucky.

In art: avoid whitewashing Sam’s skin and research drawing Black characters.

General disclaimer: Race affects every aspect of his life, including interacting with police/government and the white structures of the world when it comes to performing his duties as Cap and simply being a Black man that lives in the U.S.

Specific Tags:

Avoid tags in AO3 like “Sam Wilson is a Gift” and “Sam Wilson is a Saint”.

Have fun and we look forward to your Samtember 2023 works!

[deadboyfriendd]

Cochise Il: Mudsill

Summary: The morning after his first day reaps a certain morosity with it. After a gruesome shootout with a grisly outcome, he vows not only to protect this town, but you as well. In more ways than one. The second part of Cochise. Sequel to Nellie. 

Warnings: Fem!Reader, Outlaw/Doc Holliday!Eddie Munson x Reader, wild west/Tombstone AU!, Sherrif!Steve (he has a mustache), guns and gun violence, death of minor original characters, period-appropriate death, suggestions of lynching and public execution, drug use, angst, fluff, save a horse (the horse watches in this one), ride a cowboy, smut included, death of a spouse discussed in this, blood and wounds (gunshots), minor unintentional self-harm, unprotected p in v, creampie 

My content is 18+ Minors DNI

Word Count: 6.1k

Author's Note: This is for Drac <3 thank you for beta reading! And also for dealing with me going, “now what?” every fifteen seconds, and also for being my nepo goth mommy and being the only reason I get reads on this godforsaken app and also for indulging me in this fantasy and also for ominously looming over my docs because the performance anxiety makes me write better and more consistently. 

Find the series masterlist here!

Hell hath no limits, nor is circumscribed

In one self place, for where we are is hell,

And where hell is must we ever be.

The morning is nonetheless blistering, no qualms of early warmth and birds singing. Here, the sun meant silence, this world turned itself over to the night and reaped rest by the break of dawn just to escape its harshness until winter. Not all would make it. By five the blossom of the night-blooming cereus will have shriveled away, and by six the earth would begin to heat. 

The sun does not rest, only lies in wait. Remnants of it settling in the sand beneath him. 

He awakes with a groan and a pulling sting that blossoms across his neck and face at the first stale movements of wake. He could hear the vacant crunch of footsteps against gravel, hollow and softened by the fine sand beneath them. A shadow overtook him, one that granted a relief like the sour sting of white chocolate against the prevalence of melting.

“Well, good morning, Edward.” His eyes nearly crossed to look up towards you, attempting to make out any of the features of your face. They were too backlit from the sun and his eyes were still too sensitive. A basket for laundry sat firm against your hip, emptied. Above you, there is a line strung from one ironwood to the next, a washbasin several feet away with suds still running down the sides. 

He bears his senses, pulling his mind away from that celestial body it rested in the previous night. He tried not to think of your supple nature in front of him, the way your silken skin felt beneath his fingers or the way the ends of your hair tickled against his belly within his dream. It was up now, twisted into braids and tucked unto itself. 

His face and neck are red, you aren't incredibly introspective, and you can’t tell if it is a blush or the beginnings of a sunburn. You waited to wake him, washing and hanging your laundry before the break of dawn. He seemed tired, but leaving him out in the sun seemed downright cruel. You ‘d think of him in the same respects as the rattlesnake– the one who cooks from the outside in when it sits in the sand too long. 

You offer your hand to him, and he takes it. You are much stronger than your body implies, taking on the weight of him with a pull, hands calloused from housework and the general husbandry that comes from western living. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” You asked behind a grin, by now his eyes had adjusted and settled on the whites of your teeth and the upturned fat of your face. 

“Apparently I was the only one that wanted to.” He was sore from the ground, though he couldn’t quite tell if his tailbone hurt from the sand or the train to Tombstone. He watched you in stride, taking a few of your smaller ones ahead of him. 

You giggled softly, and it sounded like church bells. You looked over your shoulder at him, and he couldn’t bring himself to watch your eyes, instead, settling on the way the flesh of your neck folded at the crease. He counted the moles to ground himself,  “The west never rests, Edward.” 

He followed your stride for a few steps, his long strides becoming staccatos in comparison to yours. He looked down at his feet, avoiding rocks beneath him in his still-weary state and watching the dust kick up from beneath your heels to collect on the front of his boots. 

The gold of your earring refracted a light that brushed across your cheek, had Eddie not been staring so intently, he would have missed it. He’s glad he didn’t. “Steve already came ‘round this morning. Said a telegraph came in for you. Trains’ delayed ‘till ‘bout tomorrow.” 

The confession hit him like a shot to the chest, and he could help the dramatization of the groan that escaped him, “Christ.” 

“Got something important on that cargo train?” You raised a poignant eyebrow at him, more motherly in nature. It questioned the dramatics more than his personage. 

He shook his head, unable to stop himself from chuckling at his own bad luck, “Only my horse… and everything else.” 

“I see.” You nodded back in repose, turning your body back to face him. Your hands still clutching the laundry basket braced over your hip, “Well, let's see if we can’t scrape up some fresh clothes for you to wear then.” 

You reach your hand out towards him in invitation, his own forbearance of politeness and handshakes prompts him to reach out, though, you don’t seem to let go. You don’t notice the rouge of his cheeks or along the tips of his ears in schoolboy embarrassment beneath his sunburn. Your hands aren’t soft, not like the other women he’s touched. Your hands have been kissed with the calluses of men’s work. Ropes on horses and hands on guns. His memories reel back to your husband, the slack you were forced to receive in his absence. You wouldn’t have to pick up any slack on Eddie, he didn’t plan on dying soon. Not if he could help it. 

You use your hand like a reign, pulling him towards the wrought-iron staircase within the bar that led to your home. The staircase rocked with each footstep – a solid structure that seemed not-quite fixated to its endpoints. 

He looked around at the corridor, modest, but nevertheless a home. The dark wood on the floors closely resembled the mahogany excessiveness of The Grand Hotel, though, the expanse of it was limited to the flooring. A pale Mexican plaster covered the vast expanse of the walls, rounding the corners and archways into a smooth texture. 

He noticed the boots by the door, covered in dust and much too large to be your own. It filled in the gaps where the empty spots on the wall still lie bare, and where the second dining chair had remained tucked neatly beneath the table. Though this place resembled a home, it was not. Instead, it housed the ghost of your husband. He laid in bed at night next to the shell of grief that resembled you, the decanter on the table filled with tears of loneliness and guilt. 

You opened the thin door in the corridor, and he realized that all of your husband’s clothes had been moved here. He tried not to picture you pulling them out of the dresser they resided in, tried not to imagine the tears streaming down your face as you buried it within the fabric just to smell him again. Just to feel like he was close enough to touch one more time. 

The garments were well-starched. A white high-collar shirt, black vest, black pants, black cravat. He was a man after Eddie’s own heart, that was for sure. You excuse yourself towards the kitchen, allowing him open access to the dressing room to change. 

When he slipped through the door, loose on its hinges, he met your eyes– pressing and cold in nature. It wasn’t intentional, at least, not in the sense that your coldness was directed towards him. At an instant, your hands had found his chest, and he peered downwards to watch them, intently. It was a force of habit, righting a missed button and an off-set pattern on the vest. Once you corrected it, you laid them flat against his sternum.

He thought back to last night, the pressing warmth of your hands against his chest and the soft brush of your hair that tickled against his belly. He thought back to the purely pornographic sounds that resounded off the walls of The Grand Hotel in his dream. Though, you’d felt more human now, with the hurt in your eyes that dragged like a trunk you couldn’t rid yourself of. Your eyes carried a grief like granite, pulled from the quarry chipped into the mountain of your life and heavy on your soul. 

He thought back to what The Sheriff had said to him, about picking up the slack when your husband died. Who had been there when you were grieving? Surely the sheriff, but he had said it himself. You had your pick, but had never taken another lover. He wondered if it could be him. 

+

There is an ex-cathedra bass crescendo that reverberates against the dainty backing of tenor melodies in the bar at night, long after the dust has settled beneath the feet of the common folk. You never understood why the people here still chose to do their bidding during the day, when the sun casted an itching burn across the delicate cutaneous layers of exposed skin like lye. 

It was not Christmas, and yet you’d found pieces of words in fragments of memories beneath your breath as you hammered against the keys with clumsy fingers. You grazed your tongue against your bottom lip, still in search of the remnants of sugar from the dried Christmas fruits you’d been given as a child. 

There is a sombering solidarity in this aloneness, and in the way you no longer search for the feeling of your husband’s fingers against the cold ivory. It was just that now: cold. That emptiness would always linger, but that coldness of keys was now not for the absence of his warmth. They just were. 

Eddie watched you from the gap in the glass door to the parlor, smoothing the hairs on his arms down from where the low, deep notes rattled in his coccyx. He let the press of the mesquite against his back keep him tethered to the earth. He’d recognized the song like a ghost, Christmases past like bugs with needle-prick feet crawling up his back in repose. Where your fingers lay heavy against untuned, rattling keys, he found a softness. A delicacy in this world that was anything but. He saw tarantula legs in your spindles of fingers, light and silent as they crawled across ivory. 

There was not an inherent evil to the tarantula. Only existence. 

Your own existence was different here. You weren’t so on edge now that you figured you were alone. He felt guilty taking advantage of your comfort like this, but your softness radiated light out past the windows and into the sand outside in a warm, golden glow. Your lashes kissed in the corners of your eyes, nursing against the apples of your cheeks as you looked down in concentration. He wanted to smooth out the line forming between your brows. Your hair lay wild, splayed across your shoulders and roused from the removal of your hat. 

He adjusted himself against the door frame, the creak against the flooring from behind you sent you reeling upwards, the scratch-key a heavy hand against incorrect and out-of-tune keys. The man in black looming behind you like a shroud. You’d gasped without realizing it. He took a step forward, hand out in gentle appeasement as you whipped around, more startled than afraid. He registered it as fear. Your hand came to your chest in repulse, laying flat and tight against your breastbone. 

He takes a few steps forward, quickly closing the gap between you. The echo from the heel of his boot bounced off your body and you convinced yourself that the ringing in your ears was from that alone. 

“Woah, Nellie.” He’d said to you, softly, a pressing grin upturning crookedly at the corners of his lips. This was not the first time he’d used the horse moniker, and you’d figured this was not going to be the last. You’d blamed your own spooked nature at the way your breath did not fill your lungs completely and not the way Eddie’s warm hands felt as it picked yours up off of your chest, holding it between his two like a vice in apologetics. 

You squeezed his hand under your fingers, shaking it slightly in annoyance, “You scared me half to death, Edward.” 

“I didn’t mean nothin’ by it, ma’am.” He’d said in apology, once again, yet the smile pulled across his face further, pretty teeth grazing against the suppleness of flesh. 

You raised a brow at him, stern in nature, “When you smile something awful like that, it makes me think you did.” 

His smile stretched wider in his face, a laugh coming to fruition in his chest and exhaling through his nose and over your face, “I didn’t. Honest.” Not that you really thought that he did in the first place.

His hand left yours and found itself around your waist, where the tautness of your dresses stretched over the softness of your hip. He grasped for skin beneath the ruching of the fabric over you, warm hand splayed across your back. 

He was close — entirely too close to be considered professional or polite, but you welcomed it. You felt the breath from his nostrils, cooling against the bridge of your nose and dissipating across the crests of your cheeks. His lips parted, and the breath changed to warm. You could taste the tobacco that resided against his lips like the sugar you’d searched for on your own mere moments ago. 

His weight against your chest is foreboding, and even the bracing from his wide palm cannot stop the soft step back you take. The heel of your own hand presses against a random selection of treble keys and creates an awful, off-putting sound that makes him jump.

You can’t stop the girlish giggle that slips past your lips at the momentary terror that registers in your eyes. You don’t know if it is because of the immediate karmic justice or the fact that he was so startled by the noise he just listened to from afar. He looks back down towards you with a look that mirrored your own previous one, trying to force the smile off of his face down into a scowl. 

“I didn’t mean anything by it, honest.” You laughed between syllables, quickly pulling the key cover over the tops of the ivories and resting back against them.

“Well, you’re smiling something awful like you did.” 

+

The air outside was still. Too still. Like it lies in wait of travesty that happened in a near-constant turnstile. There is no one in the streets tonight, the party crowd gathered before the stage of The Grand Hotel to watch tonight’s opening of Faustus. 

However, Hell would not just be a frame of mind tonight. 

Michael ‘Mudsill’ Doten leaks off the steps of The Grand Hotel in a clumsy choreography of laudanum and drink, pupils blown wide in an opiate tincture waltz. The peacemaker across his hip a metronome of depravity waiting for the subtle fingertip of quarter counts to off-beat.

He howls at the moon, firing one, two shots towards it into the open air. It both draws townspeople towards and away from the scenery. Marshall Milt Kilmer steps off the balcony of The Grand Hotel haughtily, fumbling with the weapon holstered against his side. 

From behind the glass at the Whispering Sands, you stand at the sound of gunshots, hands finding your own weapon holstered beneath the folds of your dresses. Eddie’s large palm finds your shoulder, squeezing softly in a promise of not us. His other hand met the stock of his gun, tucked away in the shoulder holster against his waist. 

“Michael! Come on now.” You heard Milt start, sound clear despite being muffled by glass. The commotion must have been right outside your window. Eddie and yourself listened from behind the front door, air between your bodies stagnant in wait. 

Michael was slovenly, more so than usual, “Well, howdy Milt.” He stumbled, lame as a duck and ten times more disgusting. He wielded his pistol like a bomb with the pin pilled, a travesty in wait. 

“Alright, hand those over, Michel.” Milt insists, gun wielded in defense against Michael. The commotion has attracted onlookers that seeped from ant pile buildings in uneasy swarms – the Doten family leaking out and congregating in their own slovenly hive like wasps,  “Hand ‘em over!” Milt calls, more firm this time. 

Micahel takes a look around, then back at the County Marshall before him. His pupils are blown wide like dinner plates, “Okay, Milt, I’ll hand ‘em over. It’s only fun. Here you go.” 

But what are thou Faustus, but a man condemned to die?

There is a split second in which you can see the silver line between life and death, in which you can walk the plane between realms. There reaps a morosity heavy on your heart in the fractions of a second before a man’s life ends. It is entirely too familiar to you, and you crumble under the weight of it all. You don’t hear the crack of the gun, and you don’t see Milt’s body fall limp, but you see the breath that falls from his lips that keeps his soul on a lark. You try to catch it in your hands to force back into his lungs. Running towards his body felt like wading through sand, burning hot and suffocating around your waist. He was dead by the time your hands cupped around his shoulder, but the remnant of his essence felt like a sheet, drowning you in the great planes of the Gila.

“Milt? Come on now.” Michael said, the gun long dropped on the ground. He nudged Milt’s boot with his own, unable to process the velocity of the events that transpired just moments before. 

The sheriff is fast to rush Michael, cracking the stock of his own peacemaker across the crown of the man before him, the body dropping heavy against the sand to your left. Heavy, but still alive. 

Everything is heavy. The weight that you bear crouched beside Milt’s body, the way Michael slumped into the sand beside you, the crowd gathering around the sudden onslaught of commotion, and the hand against your back that undoubtedly belonged to Edward. 

“Get him off the street.” Steve ordered, sweeping his peacemaker around in a circle to fend off the feigning crowd, “Alright, back off.” He said, stern and loud. You’d have half a mind to be afraid of him when he was like this, if you weren’t still in shock. 

“Get a rope!” Someone from the town said, stepping down from a nearby patio. 

“String him up!” 

Edward could sense the rising tension, his other hand coming firmly around the taught expanse of your waist and pulling you back without giving you room to fight. You stumbled backwards in a stupor, hot tears streaming down your face emotionlessly. You were a stone. A puppet in his hands watching the scene before you unfold. 

Steve’s face hardened, jaw clenched under cold eyes, “Nobody’s hanging anybody.”

“He just killed a man–”

“And he’ll stand trial for it. Now, get back! Move!” Steve made sure the hammer was pulled back on his gun, serious as sin. You don’t think you’d ever seen him this scary before. You didn’t think he could be this scary at all. 

“Turn him loose.” One of the town patrons called from the building riot, stepping forward from the mass. He was a dirty cattle pusher that still carried the grime and anger of a juvenile foal. When Steve gave him a cold stare-down, he spoke up once more, “He said to turn loose of him.”

“I’m not, so go home.” Steve said again, face like a stone. 

Another voice emerged from the crowd, “I swear to God, law dog, you step aside or we’ll tear you apart.” He was an older man with a scraggly beard, wiry hair to match his wiry nature, a dust-alden bandana hanging loosely off the skeleton-physique. He wielded his own weapon, pointing it at the Sheriff. He knew he was outnumbered, but wouldn’t back down. You wanted to cry out, to let them lynch Michael. Anything to avoid watching someone you care about die again. Anything to avoid feeling that. 

Steve took a step forward, pressing the barrel directly to the forehead of the old man. Hard enough for it to leave an indentation on the skin. 

“You die first, got it? Your friends might rush me later but not before I kill you first.” Steve’s eyes had hardened from something stone-cold to something ablaze. His eyes reaped the anger of the afternoon sun, alight with anger. Anger from defiance. Anger for Milt. “You understand me?” 

“He’s bluffing, let’s rush him” The younger man spoke up, further trying to entice the crowd. Everyone else was at a standstill, tension so taught, that if that wire snapped, it could recoil and kill both Steve and the other man. 

The old man’s eyes went wide, hands splayed out in a half surrender, half heeding motion, “No! He isn’t bluffing. Don’t rush him.” He pleaded, as if he were staring death in the face. By the look of rage and hunger alight behind Steve’s eyes, you were sure he was.

This time, the sheriff went quiet, talking only to the man in front of him, “You aren’t as stupid as you look. Now tell them to get back. “

“Go on, now, get back.” The old man said, hands still upward in surrender. The statement was shaking and quiet, unsure and teetering between tears. “Go on!” He said, louder this time, a plea for his life. 

“He’ll kill me.” He whispered, a single salty tear streaking through the fine layer of sand on his face. The crowd dissipated back, the yelling and demands of public execution coming to a gelatinous quiet. 

Edward removed his hand from your waist, putting the pistol from beneath his arm. He pulled the hammer back without question, pointing it at the young cattle-hand that started this all. 

“And you, big boy, you’re next.” He spoke it like a promise. Like a prayer. If you hadn’t been magnified by everyone's slightest move, you would have missed the way Steve’s eyes met you before he nodded in Edward’s direction.

+

The train comes by way of Texas Pacific that next morning, long before the break of dawn, and Eddie’s steamer trunk and horse were brought by means of Butterfield’s Overland as the sun was breaking darkness over the horizon. 

You don’t remember the sun turning over the next morning until you are blinded by the sudden onslaught of neon orange through the glass of the Whispering Sands. Your eyes feel dry, juxtaposed to the salty wetness of the rest of your face and the bottoms of your dresses, yet you kept scrubbing. 

That wretched spot in the middle of the floor that was beginning to divot from where the wood had worn away, yet you swore you could still see the dark coagulants of blood pooling between the grain. Maybe it was your own. 

There, where your husband lay dying, where his final breaths sputtered and choked from the blood that congealed within his lungs and escaped the gaping hole in his sternum. Where the unnamed bandolero lay already dead in your doorway, an iron barrel burning a vicious welt into your leg as your hands desperately plunged into the red pool forming within your husband’s chest. That night, the blood of two men covered your hands. 

The only evidence that anything had ever happened here was the mild divot on the floor and the blood seeping from your skinless knuckles and you scrubbed salt over the ghosts that resided between these floorboards and in these stools. You haunted this place in search of your husband, who would no longer be found at the piano or behind the bar. You were a ghost in your own rights. 

That holy shape becomes a devil, best. 

The laundry outside needs tending, and you let the burn from your knuckles tether you to this mortal plane, the unpleasant stick of your wet overcoat sticking ad unsticking from your knees and making them raw as you mundanely schlop wet clothes from the washbasin and pin them to the wire. 

You hear Edward round the corner, shrouded in the shadow from the smoky black quarter horse. Though quiet as they try, the equine presence is never quiet. He clears his throat haughtily, though you fail to recognize if it was him or the horse blowing a hefty breath through large nostrils. 

“Ma’am.” He started. Your nose was still red and your under eyes were still swollen from the night before, though, he hadn’t originally meant to say anything. Watching a man die was hard, he knew that you would have understood that. You looked like you had died and been resurrected when you turned to face him, hair frizzy and half escaping the braid that hadn’t been touched since the days before tucked beneath your hat, clothes sopping wet and hands bleeding. 

“What did you do to your hands?” He asked, suddenly softer now. He reached down to grab your hands, the sides of his calloused fingers scraping the undersides of your own calloused palms. 

“Tending to the floors.” You said to him, barely above a whisper. You wouldn’t meet his eyes. 

“You're soaked.” He observed, taking a step back to look down the front of your buckskin overskirts. Without a doubt, your underskirt and bloomers clung to your skin beneath as well, no longer dripping due to the warming sun. 

He understood what was happening here, the frantic nature in the way you scrubbed the floors matched the way he scrubbed his own body raw from the blood that covered his skin. He knew your hurt all too well. 

You mustered the courage to look him in the face as he inspected the outer edges of your knuckles with a tenderness that nearly brought the tears spilling back from your eyes. It was a tenderness that you hadn’t known in so long. It was like you were witnessing him from outside of your own body, through the eyes of a spider. You could count the smattering of freckles across his nose– those akin to a schoolboy, endearing in nature. A scar of what no longer remained. While he looked for signs of infection and wood shrapnel and remaining salt, you looked at the near perfection in which his thick lashes brushed from his lid to his cheek and you understood that God may not have been forgiving, but He certainly was real. 

A fluttering, frantic desire builds in your core when you slot your lips against his. This feeling was not akin to butterflies and moths. It was frantic, more persistent. Like that of the hummingbirds that drank from the cactus blossoms in the cooler mornings. You watched them in silence, searching and flying entirely too close. Fast and sure. All you can feel is the dry cracking against softness as his startled breath dissipates across your own mouth. 

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled to him, only pulling a mere few centimeters away. You were not sorry, but you were polite enough to fake it. 

“Don’t.”

He drops your hands, fingers scrambling for purchase against the tautness where your vest is slotted tight over your waist, clutching at fabric in search of skin instead. You reel closer, your own hat bumping the brim of his and falling off your head. It is frantic and sloppy and full of an animalistic reproach. The heat of his skin and lips is no different from the staleness of the desert around you. Your hands find his neck beneath his hair, tacky and slick with the sweat of the already blistering morning. You wanted him to touch you with all of the resolve of your dead lover, you wanted him to take you here in the sand– to make you shake and shiver all of the worries that had plagued you to the bone. To feel close to someone was foreboding, if you wanted to feel close you would have taken another lover. To feel safe with someone was something you clung to like a vice, for you hadn’t been safe since you’d started out west. You buzz like the fat hummingbirds in the saguaro blossoms when he hikes you close against him, aggressive without malaise. Both of his arms entrap you tightly, almost too tightly to be comfortable, and keeps a crushing weight to keep your body taught against his. You whine, all woman and all desperation, as your back braces against the rough stone texture of the brick behind you, his leg slotting between your thighs and casting a desperate friction to fruition. 

When you gyrate your hip against his thigh, unsparingly, the broad planes of his hands cling to the valley of your back between your shoulder blades relentlessly. It brings you up towards him instead of away against the wall. You can feel the harness of his braced between your bodies, and it sparks a churning feeling deep in the pit of your belly. You are whining, his tongue funding purchase within your mouth and making a home there. He does not expect you to initiate the act, but when your hands slide down the tautness of his abdomen, and pull his shirt out from his trousers, he is surprised. 

There is no sense of familiarity to this. Sure, you had been married. Laying with a man was no unexplored land for you, but this franticness, this panic and desperation was all new. It was risky, and it felt dirty, though, not incorrect. Edward reaches up, pulling the hat off of his head, his fingers turning tender against your waist as he guides you off of the wall and downwards into the sand. It is firm against your back and pleasantly warm. 

You are not soft like in his dream. You do not whine or beg for him when you see all of him for the first time. You are relentless in undoing your own buttons and pulling your own shirt off. When you see him, he is tall and lean, there is a scarecrow-like nature to him, the gangliness clinging to him like the naivety of youth, though, just as you were all woman, he was all man. Even in his softness. He is soft in the way he looks down at you, and allows your eyes to skim over him. His awestruck nature forces you to resist the urge to cover yourself. 

You are not womanly in the way you disregard the messiness of your hair, the tear streaks that stick against your hot cheeks, or the sand that sticks to your back as he lays you down. When he reaches a hand up to cup the side of your neck, it feels like walking that tightrope again– the one that teeters between the plane of life and death. This was a part of you that you no longer had resolve in. You did not think you would ever feel something that resembled your husband again. Though, as you walked this tightrope, it felt like crossing the threshold of your upstairs quarters again. His hands around you like a foundation and his arms around you like walls. 

There is a change of pace as he kisses you this time, unhurriedly and exploring. Your fingers grasp around the thick bone of his wrists, thumbs tethering you to the ligaments of his wrists beneath his alabaster skin. There remains a tackiness on the front of your body from where the lye water soaked through your clothes and stuck to your skin, though, he didn’t seem to mind. 

Behind the fast-paced nature and desperation of it all, there lies a sticky sweetness. Dark and slow-moving like molasses against your skin. It finds a resemblance in his lips against your neck that trail your collarbones. If it were a different circumstance, perhaps, this would have been slower. He would have taken you like a lover, something that more closely resembled the way he wanted you in the hazy fog of The Grand Hotel. But you needed him here and now, and he would have to give you that. 

He does not have to ease your legs open with reproach like he had to do with the other girls, the ones who hid themselves away in meek shyness. Even in the open expanse of the desert before you, where, on the opposite side of this building, the town was awake and beginning to stir, there was a profound lack of meekness to your demeanor. There would be no begging from your lips, though, you didn’t need to. You had him already. You had him as soon as you’d met him. 

He found himself tepid, “Do you still want me to–” 

“I want you to fuck me, Edward.” You’d insisted, and he was taken aback by it. Though, he was not going to deny you. Not with the sweat pooling between the valley on your breasts and your curls sticking to your forehead. He wouldn’t have denied you anyways. 

“Okay.” 

His voice was hoarse, moan rumbling low and deep from the confines of his lungs. He is rushed with feeling– taken aback by the crudeness of your language and comfort with your raw body. This was not what he had dreamed of, but rarely was it ever. The thrill changed quickly from an excited tingle to an aching need. His thumbs pull the hair from your face as he braces himself on his elbows, the soft smattering of hair on his stomach becoming flush with yours. 

You didn’t understand before the softness that lay just beneath the layer of dust that settles over him, the roundness to the apples of his cheeks or the plush of his lips. Though, now that he was this close, it was hard not to miss. His eyes, though you had only ever seen them dark and angry, were now a golden honey against the tan backdrop of the desert. It resembled the waning orange of the sunrise you were too forlorn to watch this morning. 

There was a resounding softness in his promises of, “I’ll take care of you” that reverberated with the building of tears that formed against his pretty lash line, though, not enough to break the surface tension and spill over his even prettier face. 

There is a relentlessness in the way he rocks his hips against your core, desperate for the feeling of closeness. A single tear buds against the corner of his eye, dripping down his pretty red cheek and on to your chest. You had half a mind to swipe it away with your thumb. He fucks you languidly in the building spring heat. The tackiness of your skin turns to a slide as he works you. 

His hips stutter in a pistoning motion, punching a moan out of your core that was not frilly or rehearsed. Please don’t stop’s resounding off of his chest like prayers. He is a little rougher than before, your back arching in pleasure. His voice is broken as he presses hot, open-mouthed kisses to the column of your throat. 

There is a certain inevitability, like you both know that this will need to come to an abrupt end, and you whine with the filthiness of it all. There is a soft soreness that buds from within your core, and from the way he cries out, whiny and vulnerable, you know he feels it, too. There is a reciprocating cry that resounds from both your mouths, and you know he has reached his apex when he spills inside of you, moving slowly and then coming to a stop. 

You do not stop him when he drops a heavy head against your sternum, instead resulting in pushing the hair away from his face. His head bobs up and down on your chest as you breathe, his own falling out of sync with yours. There is a resounding whisper that leaves his lips, and you are not sure if you are meant to hear. You reply anyways. 

“Solamen miseris socios habuisse doloris.” “It is a comfort to the wretched to have companions in misery.”

[bluestar22x]

The Riding Lesson

Summary: When you are hired at a ranch as a trail guide, the owner asks the foreman to teach you how to ride Western style.

Pairing: Jack Daniels x F!Reader

Rating: 18+ (to be safe)

Warnings: Some sexual tension and thoughts, lots of horsey terms

Word Count: 2,381

Author's Note: AU fic for the @pedrostories 1k celebration. Prompt quote was "Is that the best you've got?"

See my Main Masterlist for other Pedro character fanfics.

xxx

Summers were a busy time at Western Willow Ranch. Not only were there the beef cattle and their calves to tend to, but there were also guests coming and going for both morning and afternoon trail rides.

You were hired as a temporary employee, needed for the surplus of guests they got every year as the weather turned hot. Your role would be to help guide trail rides and keep the tack clean and polished.

Having grown up around horses and competed in jumping competitions back in California, you had plenty of experience for the job, except for one small detail.

You'd never ridden Western before.

You were confident you'd pick it up fast though. English and Western riding were different, but they weren't intimidatingly different. As far as you could tell, the only difference was the saddle shape, the speed of the horse, and the way the reins were held and used.

Though you figured you could probably teach yourself, you'd still agreed with the owner of the ranch to take a riding lesson with his foreman.

You had your riding lesson on your very first day, after you were shown around the farm by a stable hand and shown what a typical morning was like at the ranch.

The foreman was one of the few employees missing from the barn, having been out tending to the cattle.

After lunch in the employee building, you waited for him in the barn aisle as instructed, glancing at your watch every so often. The lesson had been set for one o'clock and it was ten minutes past.

He was worth the wait though.

He strolled into the barn with his mount moments later, the beautiful golden buckskin gelding following behind obediently, and you caught your breath.

Most horsemen didn't catch your attention. More often than not the horse was a lot prettier than their rider, but the foreman was handsome, and that was an understatement. Dark brown hair covered by a black cowboy hat, matching dark eyes, a mustache that fit his face perfectly, a strong jawline, curved nose, and an air of confidence to him, he was worthy of the front cover of every western magazine out there as far as you were concerned.

You couldn't help but feel disappointed he was technically one of your bosses. You didn't like mixing business and pleasure, but... damn... maybe if he didn't mind it, you could make an exception.

You shook your head at that thought. You haven't even said one fucking word to him yet. Down girl.

He said your name and it sounded like honey on his lips. You chewed yours. You really needed to chill, but it wasn't your fault his voice sounded sinful.

"That's me," you managed to say, lamely raising a hand up.

"Sorry about the wait, darlin'," he continued. "One of the calves got into trouble with the fencing."

"Are they alright?" you asked, genuinely concerned. You loved all animals, or at least, all the furry ones.

He nodded. "Yeah, he'll be just fine."

He held out his right hand. "The name's Jack Daniels."

You shook his hand firmly and repeated yours. "So, is this the horse I'm riding?" You nodded at his mount.

Jack shook his head. "Nope. Ace here is a one rider kind of horse. He don't like strangers. But I'm going to have you help me untack and groom him so I can show you the saddle and how to secure the cinch."

It turned out the cinch was like the girth on the English saddle, a strap that ran under the horse's belly to secure the saddle to their back. The cinch wasn't so simple to adjust as a girth was. The strap was longer and needed to be wrapped just right around the ring it looped through multiple times to fit proper.

You picked it up fast though, only needing Jack to show you twice to get it.

When you'd done up the cinch correctly three times in a row Jack let you untack Ace completely and had you carry the saddle back to the tack room. The saddle was probably three times as heavy as an English saddle, mostly due to the extra lift of the seat and the saddle horn. You managed to carry the saddle for the whole two minute walk to the tack room but it was a struggle, not that you'd have admitted it.

Once the tack was cleaned and put away you returned to Jack's side in Ace's stall. He was in the middle of brushing him with a soft brush and you joined in without a word, working on the horse's opposite side.

After Ace was completely groomed you both stepped out of the stall.

"Follow me to your horse of the day," Jack ordered, walking over to a stall at the back of the barn. You did as told and peered over the stall door.

A pretty little black and white mare was on the other side, too busy chewing her afternoon hay to pay attention to you and Jack.

"This here's Puzzle," he informed you. "She's an old gal. Nearly thirty. We don't ride her much anymore, but she's a great beginner horse. She'll be as patient as a lamb with you."

Were lambs patient? you wondered. Was that term even a thing?

Jack patted the saddle and bridle that were hanging over her door. "Had Bettie, one of the stable hands, get this for us this morning. I want you to groom Puzzle and saddle her up all on your own. Think you can do that?"

"No problem," you declared, setting to work.

It really wasn't a problem, though you did fumble on the cinch for a second before your short-term memory kicked in. Most else was pretty straight forward and Jack gave you an approving nod when you were finished.

"Great," he said, "Now she's all set to go, lead her out to the corral and we'll get going on the main part of this lesson."

You nodded and walked out of the stall with Puzzle close beside you. She was a cute thing. You were a bit sad she was too old to be assigned as your mount. Whichever horse you got would be at least a decade younger and more energetic. While those were the horses you were used to, you'd felt like you and Puzzle were already connecting.

Once you slipped into the outdoor corral, a round fenced in pen used for training horses, you settled the reins of the bridle over Puzzle's neck and the saddle horn before glancing to Jack for further instruction.

"Hop on," Jack commanded. "We'll get everything adjusted after."

You nodded and swung up into the saddle easily.

"How do the stirrups feel?" Jack inquired.

You tilted your heels down. "A little long. But they're supposed to be, right? Western isn't so tight?"

"It should still feel comfortable," Jack replied.

"It does."

"Good. Tighten that cinch one more time. Puzzle likes to stick out her gut when the saddle goes on."

You bent and reached to untie the cinch and tightened it, but when it came to securing it back you struggled due to the angle.

"Just takes practice," Jack assured you when you admitted you couldn't figure it out. "Here, let me help."

He approached Puzzle and tapped on your lower leg with a few fingers to signal to you to pull it back, still in the stirrup so he could get access to the cinch.

You did that and watched as he tugged on it once more before finishing the job.

When he was done, he grabbed your left lower leg, guiding it back into place, and the prolonged warm touch of his palm pressed against your jeans sent a spark through you.

What you would give for him to touch you in other places.

Jack stepped away to climb the fence and straddle it and you barely held your composure. Fuck, this job was going to be difficult, and it wasn't because of the new riding style you had to learn.

"Hold the reins with one hand centered over her neck," Jack instructed as he perched on the top railing.

You grabbed the reins and slid your fingers over into the correct position.

"Good, now take her around at a walk for a few turns and then a jog after," Jack said. "A jog's like a slow trot, for you, city girl," he added.

A decade ago teenage you would've stuck out your tongue at him, but mature you simply gave him another nod and followed his orders.

Jack was quiet as you put Puzzle through her paces, until she started jogging and you started pushing yourself up and down out of the saddle with her stride.

"What're doin' darlin'?" Jack questioned, frowning. "You sit in the saddle."

"Oh." You blushed as you sat down and slowed Puzzle. His confusion somehow had made you embarrassed about it. "It's posting. Do you not do that in Western?"

"Nope," Jack answered. "That saddle ain't made for that."

"Okay," you nearly squeaked.

You nudged Puzzle with your heels, encouraging her back into a jog and completed your task sitting down the whole time. You found that the jog was more tolerable to sit than a trot. Riding a trotting horse like that could be rough at times.

You stopped in the center of the round pen when you were done.

"How was that?" you asked almost shyly.

Jack gave you a small smile. "Excellent for your first time. It's obvious how many years you've ridden."

"Thanks."

"I think you're ready for a test run on the trail."

"On Puzzle?" you questioned.

Jack shook his head. "Like I said, she's too old. Gonna have to bring her back to her stall and get two fresh horses saddled up. Shouldn't take too long between the two of us."

You nodded and jumped off Puzzle. "Let's get to it then."

x

An hour later you and Jack were out on the plains of the surrounding Montana landscape, enjoying an easy stroll under the warm afternoon sun on two new mounts.

His was a solid chestnut mare named Trix, and yours was a black mare with a star marking named Karma.

As you moved over the landscape Jack pointed things out to you. The trailheads, the river that bordered the ranch, the cattle in the distance. Everything you'd need to know and would eventually know by the back of your hand.

The sun was beginning to fall westerly when he finished showing you around.

"You will not be alone the first few weeks you guide trail rides so we don't have to worry about checking those out today," Jack told you. "So I figure it's time to turn around."

You nodded and pulled the reins towards east, towards where the ranch house and barn were located. Jack did the same.

"Let's lope for part of the way," Jack decided.

You knew it was another test. "Sure."

He picked up the pace first and you sent Karma after him and Trix, making sure to keep enough distance between the horses as you caught up to them so not to cause them to bump into each other.

He observed you from the corner of his eye, a ghost of a smile on his pouty looking lips.

You tried not to get distracted by it, telling yourself he was only looking because he wanted to see how you were in the saddle at faster speeds, even though you sensed there was something more to it.

You were the first to slow your horse, and when Jack had Trix back at a walk beside you, he raised his eyebrows.

"Is that the best you got?"

You blinked at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

He grinned at you and you realized then that Jack Daniels was a bit of a menace.

He gestured at a fallen log several yards away. "I heard about your jumping skills. Show me?"

You didn't know if Karma had any history jumping, but the log looked harmless, just thick enough to force the mare to jump it instead of walk over it. "Sure."

You kicked the mare and she immediately shot into a lope, headed straight for the log. You focused, got yourself into position as best as you could in the bulky western saddle, and the next thing you knew you were flying over the obstacle. The rush of adrenaline as you did was amazing as always.

After Karma landed on the other side you could hear Jack clapping.

You turned her back towards him as you both settled into a walk again.

"You two make a fine team," Jack said. "Think I'll tell Dusty to assign you to her."

You grinned. "That would be great." You still were kinda stuck on Puzzle, but you really liked Karma too.

You patted her neck and turned her to face the house once more. "Race you back, full gallop."

Jack smiled. "You're on."

x

After you and Jack had settled your horses back into their stalls, he turned to you for a final time that night.

"Any questions before I go?"

You shrugged. "Not really. Just...how was I today?"

He flashed you a charming smile. "You impressed me darlin'. Not that I have any right to be. You obviously know your way around horses and jumping them is not the easiest."

"Why did you test me then?" you inquired.

"Cause you could've lied on your resume," Jack replied.

True enough. But you had ribbons to prove it back home.

"See you around," he finally said, and you could've sworn he gave you a quick once over. When he smirked you were certain he had.

So you weren't the only one interested. This was a mutual thing. Your heart fluttered. There was a chance.

"See you around, cowboy," you returned smoothly.

He beamed at you, delighted that you had used a nickname for him and tipped his head. "Night darlin’."

And with that he left the barn, and left you to watch him go, eyes trained on the shape of his ass in his tight blue jeans.

You hummed appreciatively. This summer is going to be fantastic.

xxx

Tagged: harriedandharassed

xxx

Main Masterlist

xxx

[rainbowchaox]

Monster of the week rancher au part 4: small things that make me happy.

1. The first time Tango makes Jimmy a bouquet was made of Poison Ivy. He is trying his best. Yes Jimmy grabbed it and now has to deal with his hands being itchy for the day or so

2. Impulses shitty van is the Nokia of cars. It can handle being throw like every weekend by the monster of the week but has the worst engine. Type of car that is on its last legs engine wise.

3. Jimmy and Grian Great Grandma used to be a moonshiner back in the day. And whenever they visit her she always said back in my day but like wack stuff. Ex: “Back in my day we would sunk you in the lake”

4. Jimmy is a western/cowboy nerd. So much that his dnd character he plays in his friend’s campaign is a cowboy. Has a whole ass collection of Clint Eastwood Movies.

5. Tango loves those wack conspiracy and alien/monster documentary. Solely to laugh at it because it’s always so off. Yes he watches documentaries about himself as well.

6. Tango has actual beef with the Mothman. Yes mothman exists in this au and tango is no brain just punch whenever he sees the mothman.

7. Jimmy has to keep a ladder in Impulses van because Tango gets stuck on the roofs of buildings so often.

8. Jimmy is a Eagle Scout and is lowkey bullied by the younger Boy Scouts. But at the same time the small kids will beat up others for their weird teen.

9. Jimmy is definitely a flannel bisexual. He always is wearing some sort of flannel overtop.

10. Jimmy mom always wins the community baking competition with her special Apple pies. No one knows her secret why they taste so good.

11. Tango has gotten his hand stuck in a Pringle can. Jimmy had to olive oil it out for him.

12. Scar has wore a overcoat and was like “Whata ya buyin” but instead it’s like potions and crystals. The teachers thinks he is selling drugs tho.

13. When Tango is really happy his purrs are so loud it shakes the room he is in like a earthquake.

14. Tango loves to be fully human but when only Grian is looking at him (especially when he’s over at their place for dinner) loves to show off slight monstrous traits. Like blinking with a second eye lid or smiling with way too much teeth.

15. Jimmy does know how to hunt but boy it took him forever for him to get a squirrel to present to Tango as a token of his affection. He is trying his best to monster flirt.

16. Tango because he doesn’t know how to human flirt does present dead animals usually deer to Jimmy as a way to flirt.

17. Tango is surprisingly rich af. It’s just he had no concept of money before meeting Jimmy and his human friends. He stole so much from campers and hikers.

18. Tango got manipulated into joining journalism once he went to the school as a student. And everyone in said journalism class is wanting to do a piece on him as the red stalker. But no one believes he is the red stalker even when he plainly admits that fact.

19. The fact is the one high vampire that can infect others in town is literally decades worth in debt and lives in the attic of his shitty tourist plus secret pawn shop trap. (Vampire Scott my beloved)

20. Tango doesn’t pass the mirror test. He sees his reflection he thinks it’s someone else. On his bad days he may try attacking the stranger. Tango is a feral good boy. But I never said he was smart.

[xomakara]

Wanted Dead Or Alive

(re-posting from my old account seulrinnie-rinrin/xomakara-secondary)

SUMMARY | A handsome cowboy is injured while tending to a wild horse he's rescued miles from town. You're on the run, and can't afford to stop on your way to your destination – but you can't ignore the wounded man when you see him, and decide to help him despite the personal risk.

PAIRING | Mingi x Reader

GENRE/CONTENT/WARNINGS | Cowboy!Mingi, Heiress!Reader, Western au, non-idol au, smut (with some plot), consensual sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up y'all), slight fingering, dirty talk, pet names (darlin', sweetheart, etc), praise kink, bathtub sex, bed sex, gunfights, mentioned abuse

RATING | Mature, Explicit, 18+, NSFW, MDNI

LENGTH | 7,929 words

TAGLIST |  --

NETWORKS |  @cromernet (reuploaded so only tagging nets that haven't reblogged it yet)

AUTHOR’S NOTE | Excuse me, while I go bathe myself in holy water.

You can't help but spur the horse forward, your heart thudding in your chest. It had been hours, but the adrenaline was still running rampant in your system, your stomach clenching with dread.

You could hear the sound of hooves, and your body was tense and tight as you pulled the reins, hoping the sound wasn't heading toward you.

It had all started when you woke up with your ex-husband's hands around your throat, a wild look in his eyes. He'd seemed desperate and he had looked at you with an unfamiliar expression as he tightened his grip.

The memory of his hands squeezing the air out of your throat, the burning in your lungs as he tried to squeeze the life out of you. The memory had tears springing into your eyes, and you swallowed them back, forcing the panic away.

He had almost succeeded, if not for the fact that you were more desperate to live than he was for you to die.

You'd fought him with everything you had, and with the steak knife that you hid under your pillow, you stabbed him in the hand so that you could breathe.

And then you ran.

You had a small fortune that you'd stashed away, and you had a bag packed for days like this.

It wasn't enough to keep you safe for very long, but it was enough to get you where you needed to go, and it was enough to keep you warm, and fed and hidden from prying eyes.

You had planned to slip out of town under the cover of darkness and disappear. You'd heard that it was possible to disappear entirely, to leave the country, and you were prepared to do it.

You had no ties, no one waiting for you, nothing to keep you in town except for the fear of being found.

The sun is rising over the horizon, and you know you should probably stop for a rest, but you don't think you can.

You want to keep moving until you can't anymore.

You know there are men on your trail. They're not smart enough to keep up with you, but you know they're going to follow you for as long as it takes.

They'd followed you to this little town, and you knew it was only a matter of time before they found you again.

And they wouldn't stop until they got what they wanted.

You know it was the money they were after.

After all, your family had a lot of it, and your husband had known about it and had wanted to get his hands on it for some time.

That's why he married you.

Sure he was rich and everyone knew it. But with the way that he spent it, he was drying out his funds, and he knew that if he didn't find some source of income, he'd be destitute within the year.

He wouldn't tell anyone, oh no, that would damage his reputation.

Instead, he'd taken a loan and used that loan to buy the nicest ring that he could afford.

And then he'd gone and found himself a rich wife.

He'd been careful in his planning. He'd been charming and he'd made you feel things you'd never felt before. He charmed his way to get your parents' favor, and they'd approved of him almost immediately.

The wedding had been the biggest social event that had happened in town in a long time.

But it didn't matter how well the two of you were liked, because your ex-husband didn't know how to stop spending, and now people were beginning to talk.

And they were beginning to ask questions.

You had been his perfect cover, his perfect alibi, and now that he was losing his power and prestige, he wanted to keep the one thing that was left to him.

And that was the money.

You didn't mind giving him the money, he'd been good to you, and he'd loved you, and had cared for you. But when the love turned to abuse, and the care turned to control, you decided you were better off without him.

So, you left him. Divorced him.

And now he was coming after you, and after the money.

He would not stop until he got what he wanted.

And neither would the men that were chasing you.

Your horse had been galloping for hours, and you were starting to slow down. Your body was sore, and your legs were cramping, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop.

You could hear them getting closer, and it made your blood run cold.

Your eyes scanned the horizon, looking for a place where you could stop. Somewhere you could hide, maybe.

There was a corpse of trees not too far from the road, and you veered towards them, hoping that they were thick enough to hide you from the men who were pursuing you.

And then you see him.

Tall and handsome, leaning against the side of a tree, holding his side. His head is tipped back, his face twisted with pain, and you feel your heart drop at the sight.

You pull your horse to a stop, your hands trembling. You're afraid. You're so scared. But you can't just leave him there, bleeding.

He's a big guy, with broad shoulders and muscular arms, but right now, he looks so small.

He opens his eyes, and his gaze finds yours. His eyes are dark, and you can see the pain in them.

He lifts his hand, and he waves at you.

"Hey there, little lady." Voice hoarse and gravelly. "Looks like I could use a bit of help."

You couldn't help but dismount your horse and carefully walk up to him. "What happened to you?"

His face twists and his shoulders rise as he inhales deeply. "Long story short, I got shot trying to round up some horses for Ol' Man Kim. A bullet got lodged in my side. I ain't sure if it went clean through, but I need a doctor. I can't make it to town."

You hesitate, chewing on your bottom lip. "I can't take you into town, Mister. I can't afford to draw attention to myself."

He gives you a strange look. "Why would that draw attention to yourself? Do you have a criminal record or somethin'?"

You shake your head. "No. It's a lot more complicated than that. It's a long story."

"You can make it short like I did mine."

You laugh softly, your heart skipping a beat. He has a nice smile, and he's even more handsome when he laughs. "Okay. Well, long story short, I'm on the run. My ex-husband is trying to kill me for my money. And some other guys are after me. I can't stop here or else I'm putting myself at risk. I have to keep moving."

He studies you for a moment, his dark eyes boring into yours. "If you're willing, I could be of some assistance. I'm good with a gun, and I can keep you safe."

"But you're injured, mister."

"It's just a flesh wound. I can still use a gun. If you're worried, I can ride along with you, and when we get to the next town, I'll find a doctor. Until then, I'll watch your back. I promise I won't let anyone hurt you."

You hesitate, chewing on your bottom lip. "Why would you do that? You look like the type that would rob me instead."

"Nah, I may be a cowboy but I don't harm women and children." He reaches out his hand, palm up, a kind smile on his face. "I'll protect you, Miss. And when I'm healed up, I'll help you get to wherever it is that you're going."

You swallow, unsure if you should trust him or not. But he seems like a decent guy, and you could use all the help you could get.

"I don't know..." You bit your bottom lip. "I can't afford to pay you right now..."

"That's alright." He smiles again, and it's a reassuring smile. "I don't need any money. Just some help."

You hesitate, your heart racing. "Okay."

He grins. "Well, alright then. What's your name, miss?"

"Y/N."

"Mingi. A pleasure to meet ya."

"Likewise." You nod and walk towards your horse, taking hold of his reins. "You think you can get up on your own, Mingi?"

"Sure thing." Mingi grunts and pushes himself away from the tree, his hand clutching at his side. He takes a few steps, his face twisted in pain. He staggers and nearly falls, but you're quick enough to catch him before he hits the ground.

You grunt and strain to keep him upright. "Easy there."

He looks down at you, and you can see the embarrassment and pain in his eyes.

"Sorry."

"It's alright. Just lean on me, and we'll get you up on the horse. We're not going very far, and I think I saw a doctor a few miles back."

Mingi nods and takes a deep breath. You can't help but notice that his hair is messy and windswept, and his clothes are rumpled. Despite that, he was still very handsome.

You put your arms around his waist and help him climb onto the horse.

"Thank you." He says, his voice soft.

"You're welcome." You reply a small smile on your face.

You can't help but notice the way his broad shoulders taper into a narrow waist. He has the build of a man who does hard work for a living, and his dark brown eyes are bright and clear. He's the first man who's been honest and kind to you in a long time.

As you climb onto the horse, Mingi wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest.

You feel safe and secure, and you can't help but notice how his arms feel around you.

His scent is warm and masculine, and you feel yourself relaxing into him.

"We should get going." You say, your voice barely a whisper.

"Right," Mingi says and nudges the horse forward.

As you ride away, you can't help but notice the way he tightens his arms around you, and how his lips brush against your ear.

You shiver, and close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of his arms around you, and the safety you feel in his embrace.

For the first time in a long time, you feel hopeful.

You arrived in the small town that you passed a few miles back and the first thing that caught your eye was a doctor's office.

Mingi had been quiet the whole ride. The pain must have been intense. You pulled your horse to a stop and quickly dismounted. You helped Mingi off the horse and slowly made your way into the building, his tall frame leaning on you.

"I need a doctor! Now!" You shouted and looked around the waiting room.

"Please wait your turn." A woman, who looked like a nurse, muttered as she sat at a desk looking over some papers.

"Ma'am, please get the doctor or help me." Mingi softly said, the woman looking up at him. Mingi smiled down at you, his face pale. "My little wife here is worried and I'd hate to see her cry."

The woman blushed, and got up from her desk, quickly hurrying down the hall.

"Wife?" You questioned.

"She'll give us priority. Trust me." He softly grinned at you. "It's easier to get what we want this way."

"How's that fair to the other patients?"

"Life's not fair, sweetheart."

"You're lucky that I find you charming." You huffed.

"You find me charming? Well, aren't you sweet?"

"Shut up." You softly chuckled and rolled your eyes.

"Sir, ma'am, follow me." The nurse came back into the waiting room and ushered you down the hall and into an examination room.

After some time, Mingi was patched up, and per the doctor's orders, you had to stay a few nights in town. You were worried about the men that were following you but Mingi assured you that you would be safe.

"So, where are we staying?"

"With a friend of mine."

"Friend?"

"Yep. He'll take good care of us. He owes me a favor and it's his fault that I got shot in the first place."

"Is it Ol' Man Kim, you mentioned before?"

Mingi nodded. "Just don't call him old. He's only a year older than me but I like to mess with him. We grew up together and we've always had each other's backs."

"He sounds like a good friend."

"He's one of the best." Mingi grinned, the pain meds kicking in.

"Alright, well, we better get going then." You sighed and helped Mingi get out of bed. "The doctor said that the medicine will probably make you drowsy."

"I'll be fine. Let's go."

You helped Mingi back to your horse and got him situated on the saddle.

"Ready?"

"Yeah."

"Where to?"

"Kim's place. It's not far from here."

"Alright." You mounted your horse and started heading out of town.

You rode for a few hours, the sun beginning to set. You were about to suggest that you should camp somewhere for the night, but Mingi told you to continue straight ahead.

"This is a long stretch of nothing, are you sure we're heading the right way?"

"Yes. Keep going, the house should come into view soon."

"Okay." You said, keeping the horse moving.

It was growing darker, and the air was getting colder.

"Mingi, we really should stop and rest. We can continue tomorrow."

"Not yet. We're almost there. Keep going."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Alright."

You continued to ride, the sky turning darker.

"I'm getting worried, Mingi. It's getting too dark to ride safely."

"Don't worry. The house should be coming up soon."

"Okay."

The moon was high in the sky and the stars were shining brightly.

You were about to give up and insist on making camp when a large house appeared in the distance.

"See? Told you."

"Well, I'll be damned." You sighed.

"It's not much, but it's home."

You followed Mingi's directions and guided the horse to the front door.

"Who's there?" A man opened the door, pointing his rifle at the both of you.

"Calm down, you old fart. It's just me." Mingi waved his hand at the man.

"Mingi?" The man lowered his rifle and squinted his eyes at him. "What the hell happened to you, man?"

"Got shot trying to wrangle up your horses, that's what." Mingi joked before looking at you. "This little lady here helped me."

"I'm sorry. I didn't catch your name, Miss." The man smiled at you.

"Y/N."

"Nice to meet ya. Name's Hongjoong. You can call me Joong."

"Joong, this little lady needs our help. She's running from some bad people." Mingi leaned his head against your back, his voice sounding groggy.

"Bad people?" Hongjoong questioned, eyeing you suspiciously.

"Yes. My ex-husband is trying to kill me." You explained. "He's hired people to come after me. I've been on the run for months now."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Miss Y/N."

"Thank you."

"Mingi, why don't you take Miss Y/N and get settled in while I bring your horse to the stable."

"Okay."

Mingi helped you down from the horse, his arms wrapping around your waist as he slowly lowered you to the ground.

"Careful." You softly spoke, helping him down from the horse.

"Thank you, darling." Mingi smiled.

"You two, get inside and get warmed up. I'll take care of the horse." Hongjoong took the reins and led the horse to the stable.

You helped Mingi inside, the two of you entering the large ranch house. You placed Mingi on the couch before taking a look around the house. It was simple but cozy, and it smelled like vanilla and pine.

"Make yourself at home. Joong won't be long." Mingi leaned back against the cushions.

"Thank you." You smiled and went back over to him, sitting on the couch next to him.

You studied his features, his eyes closed and his face relaxed. He looked so peaceful, and you couldn't help but admire his beauty.

"What are you thinking about?" Mingi suddenly asked, opening his eyes and looking at you.

"Nothing. Just how handsome you are." You admitted.

"Well, thank you, darlin'." He smiled. "You're pretty yourself. Real pretty."

"Thank you."

"I'm glad you decided to stop and help me. I owe you my life."

"You're welcome." You smiled and leaned back against the cushions.

"So tell me your story," Mingi muttered. "Why is your husband out to get ya? Is it just for the money or is there something else?"

"It's a long story, Mingi." You sighed, a frown forming on your face.

"I got all night, sweetheart." He smiled, rubbing a hand up and down your arm. "C'mon. Indulge me, please."

You rolled your eyes. "You're lucky you're hurt. You're being very cheeky."

Mingi laughed, his dimpled cheek pressed against the cushions as he closed his eyes. "I am indeed. Tell me about ya. About yer marriage."

"What's to tell?" You shrugged, leaning back against the sofa and closing your eyes. "I met a man I thought would take care of me. He charmed me and my family but in reality, all he ever wanted was my money. Because he was on the verge of being broke." You began, re-living the memories. "At first, he treated me nice and it was wonderful, until it wasn't. It was his love language, lavish gifts, and trips. And then all of a sudden, what I thought was love turned into abuse and control. He wanted to spend my money on everything. When I said no, things went badly and his abuse became physical."

Mingi reached out a hand to you and put it atop yours, giving a little squeeze. "That bastard. I know his type. Those were the men I robbed and stole from. The greedy ones that hurt women." He let out a sigh and laid his head back. "I was an outlaw, for a long time. Joong and I were always looking out for each other. He was the brains and I was the brawn. But, a couple of years back we fell on some rough times and realized we weren't as invincible as we thought. When Joong's mama passed, she left him this property. We went legit and bought some cattle. Things are good now but we were still doing odd jobs. Helping friends and such." He smiled.

You studied him. "You two seem close. Friends can be good to have."

Mingi smiled at you, his dark brown eyes piercing into yours. "Joong and I are good at taking care of ourselves. Never needed anyone else until now."

"Until now?" Your eyebrows raised.

He shrugged a shoulder, an eyebrow lifting. "You never know what the future holds. Better to be prepared."

Mingi chuckled and stretched his limbs.

"I like the way you think." Your lips turned upward as you spoke to him.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence. Mingi's presence brought a feeling of ease to you. A moment later, Hongjoong came through the front door and removed his boots at the entrance.

"Hey, Joongie." Mingi greeted with a sleepy smile.

"How are ya holding up?"

"Better now." Mingi looked at you with a smile on his lips.

"Hey now, don't be all flirty up in this place-"

"Don't get jealous, Joong." Mingi cut him off.

"Me, jealous of you? Hell no." Hongjoong made his way over to you and sat down on a loveseat opposite the sofa. "So Miss Y/N, you got some crazies after you? What for? You some kind of heiress to a fortune? I can't see you doing any sort of wrong."

Your face reddened a bit as the men watched you. "I uh...well you could say that. My parents are wealthy, yes, and I was married to what I thought was a wealthy man...but he was on the verge of being broke. He only wanted my money so he could fund his extravagant life. Over time, he changed and became abusive. Finally, I couldn't handle it anymore so I divorced him. Stabbed him in the hand with a steak knife and ran away. Now he's sent thugs and goons after me. As long as he can get his hands on my money, he doesn't care if I'm dead or alive."

"Unbelievable." Mingi sighed and rubbed his temples.

"Well, I have to hand it to you, Y/N. Most women wouldn't have the strength or gall to stand up to an abuser or their spouse." Hongjoong admired you.

"I have to get out of the country. That was my plan all along." You sighed. "Get out of the country and try to live quietly, like normal. Not to offend, but men like you aren't exactly low-key."

Mingi chuckled. "Good point."

"And now you're saddled with the poor cowboy you've rescued and stuck at a ranch house on the outskirts of nowhere."

'What if they come here?" You bit your bottom lip.

Hongjoong shook his head. "You don't have to worry. Mingi and I are more than capable of handling a few thugs."

"Right." Mingi smiled at you. "Now, how about some food and bed? I'm starved, wounded, and exhausted."

"As am I."

"Okay, you two." Hongjoong stood. "I'll get dinner started, so rest up."

"She's in there!" You heard yelling. "We'll kill her if we have to! Bring her here, now!"

You were thrown on your back, a male body covering yours as you blinked your eyes awake. The tall cowboy covered your body as best he could with his own, a rifle aimed and firing out the window into the night.

"Stay low," Mingi growled in your ear, a primal protective tone. He aimed the rifle once more as shouts and screams pierced the air. More gunshots and the air turned electric. He spoke to you in a hushed tone. "Do you know how to handle a gun?"

"Yeah." You had been forced to learn back with your husband and his controlling nature. You would never use a weapon to harm, though.

Mingi looked to see that you nodded, reaching over he dug in a side drawer of the dresser next to his bed and handed you a pistol.

"Just in case. Try to stay low until it's clear. But if it's an all-out war, don't be afraid. Protect yourself. I don't mind dying for something worth it and you're something worth a lot in my eyes. I promise you, you'll come out alive and whole."

You turned and locked eyes with Mingi. Mingi held eye contact for a second before hopping out of bed.

"You ready?" Mingi moved to the window and looked out over the land surrounding the home, the firelight casting an orange glow.

You swallowed your anxiety and nodded to the cowboy.

"Okay." Mingi readied his weapon and hopped up onto the window, gun first, and fired. He took cover in the window frame, a thump sounded like a body landing, but you weren't sure. You held the gun ready, gripping tight to it tight as sweat lined your palms.

There was no more yelling. Only the crackling of the fire was audible. Mingi sighed heavily. His head dropped and then you watched his chest inflate and fall quickly as his nerves calmed down.

"You good, Darlin'?" He turned his eyes to meet yours.

"I'm...okay."

"Good." He nodded. "Remember to stay low. I'll draw their attention away, then you run like hell. Head to the stables and get on one of the horses. Head to town and find Yunho, the sheriff. Hongjoong and I will be right behind you. Okay?"

You nodded. "Okay."

"Good girl." He gave your knee a light squeeze. "Stay low and quiet."

Mingi disappeared. You took a few breaths, listening to the silence. You then dropped the window and began to make your way through the house and to the stables. You heard the sounds of horses stamping the ground and snorting. You looked over and saw Hongjoong climbing through the window.

"He okay?" Hongjoong whispered, moving his head out the window and seeing Mingi wasn't following you.

"Yes." You looked at him, sadness lining your eyes and fear welling in your voice.

"Hey, he's tough. The guy has been in much worse jams and walked out unscathed. This time isn't going to be any different. Trust me." Hongjoong had his revolver out, keeping his eyes focused on any movement outside. He hoped his words were true and the Mingi was alright.

A second later you heard Mingi's boots hit the floor. You were relieved. He moved quickly to the window.

"Four men dead."

"Is that all of them?" Hongjoong asked.

"Yes. They rode in fast. Just the four men. Heard one of them saying that there's more on the way."

"Damn, you're ex-husband wasn't playing around," Hongjoong grumbled.

Mingi approached you. "Darlin', let's go."

Hongjoong looked at you. "Go with Mingi. I'll hold down the fort. This is my goddamn house after all."

He clasped Mingi on the shoulder. "Just go and get her safe."

"Yeah." Mingi nodded.

Hongjoong loaded the pistol and cocked the hammer. "This ain't goodbye forever, Miss Y/N. I promise." He saluted the pair of you with two fingers, a genuine smile on his lips. "Be safe, you two."

"Take care, Hongjoong. See you on the other side, my friend." Mingi then took your hand and led you to a horse already packed with bags. He then picked you up by your waist, lifting you as though you were nothing more than a pillow. His strength never failed to impress you and excite you at the same time. You tried to situate your skirts appropriately but decided to tear a good portion of fabric from the hem for easier mobility.

You felt Mingi swing up behind you on the horse and place an arm around you. "Hang on. We're heading on to town to get Sheriff Yunho and let him know what's going on. Then we'll head on to the next town over." Mingi clicked his tongue and kicked the horse's flanks gently with his boots and the pair of you raced off the property. You were overwhelmed and felt as though things were starting to go wrong, again. Would the nightmare ever stop? Was there no safety in the world for you? And now, you were putting a new man and his best friend into the situation. Men who weren't bound to you in any way. 

Men who owed you nothing. Who have both saved you already, when they barely even knew you. How could you thank someone for something like that?

After stopping in town and telling the sheriff what had happened and disguising yourself in men’s clothing, you and Mingi were on the road to the next town over. With Mingi behind you and one hand on the reins, you gripped the saddle and tried to focus on breathing. Your heart wouldn't slow down, and Mingi could sense how anxious you were.

"Talk to me, darlin'." Mingi patted your arm and leaned forward a little to listen.

"Oh..." You hadn't noticed until now just how tense your shoulders were.

"It's gonna be fine." Mingi's voice was warm and comforting, the complete opposite of the situation at hand.

"How can you say that?" You looked over your shoulder and locked eyes with him, tears already lining your waterline.

Mingi's breath hitched a moment when he met your gaze. It was an intense moment the two of you sharing, his large eyes drawing you in, pupils dilating ever so slightly. You were breathless when his face lowered to yours, his mouth suddenly pressing to yours in a firm yet gentle kiss. You relaxed as the shock melted away and leaned into him, Mingi's arm sliding over your waist and pulling you against him.

Your hand lifted and rested upon his broad chest. You could feel his heart thrumming away against his ribcage. A soft growl vibrated his throat when his lips parted against yours, allowing the hot sweep of his tongue to dance with yours. You were enjoying the moment, but the stress still lingered and ate away at you.

You were caught completely off-guard by Mingi's actions. Especially considering how you had only met him just a day earlier.

"Mingi..." You gasped a little, a redness spreading over your cheeks as the cowboy pulled back and smiled.

"I promise everything will be just fine, Y/N," Mingi muttered. "We'll be in town soon and on the next train out of there. Then we'll be off far west. Free from that bastard and his goons."

"You're going through all this trouble, and danger, to protect someone you don't even really know." You wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling bad for endangering such a kind and wonderful man like the man behind you.

"Hey." Mingi reached over and brushed a stray tendril of hair from your face. "You're the real deal. I can tell, just by meeting you and hearing your story. Besides, this is me getting away from the life that Hongjoong and I led until just recently. This is redemption in a way, to help a pretty woman and save a good soul." Mingi moved one hand up your neck, fingers sliding along your skin making gooseflesh ripple along the trail.

"But the cost-"

"I think I know the price better than anyone. I was an outlaw, Y/N. Threw in my hand with the wrong people when I was a young idiot. Was lucky to be alive, and eventually met up with Hongoong. So I've seen all there was to see and can read people well. And, it's never too late to change and to choose the right people to surround yourself with. I've realized that I have to help others – the right way. And, besides, if I have to be in a sticky situation, I'm glad it's with someone like you."

You looked up to see Mingi staring down at you, his hands touching your waist.

Mingi grinned a bit as you seemed surprised. You were lost in his gaze for a moment, before coming back to your senses.

"Thanks."

Mingi stroked your cheek softly, admiring the details of your face for a moment, taking note of a certain spot he wouldn't mind having a chance to mark later on. Your face had a healthy dusting of sun-kissed skin that shined. Mingi stared in awe. He's known many a beautiful woman, but you were special. "Come on, darlin', we should keep moving. Should be in town soon enough."

You rode together the remainder of the way in silence. Your mind races over how the last day has unfolded, the danger the beautiful stranger was putting himself in, and the feelings stirring up in you for him. A few hours ago you didn't know him. Now you wanted to protect him and save him from danger. Was there something else driving you? Something hidden deep inside that only this kind-hearted stranger was capable of revealing?

Your mind drifted off and before you realized it, you had arrived in town. It was early morning and the streets were quiet, save a few people starting their day. After tying the horse to a post outside of the inn, Mingi gathered his rifle and your pack then helped you to the inn. After booking a room for both of you, Mingi gently grabbed you by your arm.

"Let's take it easy today, stock up on supplies, and then board the train tomorrow. Better get some rest while we can."

You nodded. Mingi rubbed your arms as your eyes fell. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna do anything to you." His expression softened as your eyes opened and focused back on him. "Not unless you want me to."

You smiled lightly and followed Mingi upstairs to the room you both had booked. Mingi kept the rifle close to him while entering the room, scanning the area, double-checking the closet and any potential hiding places, and making sure the window was locked, before relaxing his shoulders.

"I could use a bath right now." You said as you stood next to the bed.

"My thoughts exactly." Mingi smiled lightly.

"You'd like to bathe too, I presume?" You asked him, turning to the cowboy who was removing his gloves.

"Only if it's alright with you. No worries, I'm fine to wait for another day." He rested his gun and belongings at the foot of his bed. "Wouldn't be very polite of me to invite myself. And I don't want you thinking less of me." Mingi sat on the edge of his bed and started taking his boots off.

You wanted a bath but also a partner to be with. Even after all those kisses on the road, he was still respecting you, and wanting to make sure you were comfortable with him. What a rare and wonderful man you had stumbled upon.

"Well...I'd rather like someone to...bathe with me..." The sentence slipped out as a shy request, barely above a whisper, but Mingi heard and immediately looked over his shoulder with a sweet grin.

"Is that so?"

You nodded timidly and brought your bottom lip in between your teeth as his gaze made your nerves fire up. Mingi smiled, biting his lips as well in thought and lust.

"Well alright, Darlin."

You watched Mingi cross the room and follow you to the door leading to the tub in the corner of the room. "Shall we?" Mingi gestured, his palm opening outward and he held his other palm and wrist to you.

Your hands grabbed onto his and he gave a soft reassuring squeeze before releasing a hand, opening the bathroom door, and letting you inside. The tub was large and sturdy-looking and would easily fit two people. Your back faced Mingi while you started to get undressed, as he slowly shut the bathroom door.

You kept your eyes forward, hearing Mingi undo his belt buckle, and let his gun holster drop to the floor. His shirt followed the rustle and whooshing of cloth hinted at what was happening. He stood behind you, pausing and waiting.

"You still want my help, darlin'? I'm not going to push you into doing something that makes you feel uncomfortable. If you'd rather me keep the rest of my clothes on, just say the word."

You turned with wide eyes, biting your lips at his naked chest and broad, sturdy shoulders. Mingi held a knowing, charming grin on his lips as he teased a single button open on his trousers.

"Yes." You breathed, hypnotized by the delicious sight of a gorgeous and almost nude Mingi. "Mingi...I..."

"Shh..." Mingi closed the distance between you and met your mouth, claiming your lips once again, his hand gripping your side firmly. You placed a hand over the larger, muscular one that rested upon your side. It felt incredibly soft and so strong. Your free hand started to play along the band of the loosening trousers. Mingi grunted lowly, moving your hand to slip inside the waistband of his trousers.

Your fingers gripped gently, a needy moan escaping him as you got a taste of his size.

"Fuck..." He muttered, pulling back and kissing along your neck. He groaned, then tugged your shirt up over your head and you pulled your hand back from his waist. He tossed the shirt to the side, a hand rubbing along the delicate curve of your hip and tugging down the waistband of the trousers you were wearing.

"You sure about this, Darlin?" Mingi whispered against the shell of your ear.

"Very sure." You muttered back as you kissed his neck.

Mingi hissed as your mouth sucked softly, his skin vibrating beneath the skin of his throat. He continued to lower your trouser hem, the palm of his hand skating over the naked skin of your thigh, leaving behind a trail of tingles in its wake. 

"Fuck, Darlin..." he breathed, eyes latching onto the sight of your naked hips. Your hands skated down his toned belly and played over his trousers once again.

"Lower.." he asked, his lips pecking your shoulder before nuzzling your cheek.

You complied, fingers brushing and kneading over the growing heat. Your hand pulled his length out, fingers brushing the smooth and hardened skin. Mingi released an exhale, as your thumb grazed the swollen tip of his cock, massaging the fluid that leaked from his throbbing tip.

"Christ..." He buried his nose in your hair, grunting. "We're not even in the bath yet. Fuck.. Y/N.."

"Mmm?" You teased lightly, still stroking the solid flesh gently and slowly.

He chuckled, the hand at your hip brushing gently over the juncture of your thighs, then dipping down to stroke your intimate entrance. You cried out, pressing your body tight to Mingi's while his lips attacked your throat, sucking at your collarbone.

He turned your body around, your back pressing against his front, and slowly steered you towards the waiting tub. Mingi took a seat in the steaming hot water, stretched his legs out, and carefully lifted you into his lap. You moaned at the feeling of Mingi's cock prodding your backside as he brought your hips closer to his own. Mingi growled lowly and purred as your behind settled into his lap, grinding down a little and humming at the hard, thick rod nudging your tailbone.

Mingi laughed through a moan and placed a chaste kiss on the back of your head before you felt his tongue playing with your skin. "Ready?"

"Yes." You muttered back in a gasp. "Mmmmmm..."

"No worries, Darling. You'll enjoy what I do to you." Mingi purred.

"Promise?" Your back arched in pleasure, his thumb dipping low and swiping against the delicate bundle of nerves nestled amongst the folds of your sensitive clit.

"Mmhm..." his finger slid around your inner folds, coating the digit, and he plunged inside, his lips sucking softly on your neck.

"Oooh god..." Your back arched, mouth agape, and hips bucking into the sweet feeling of Mingi's skilled hands pleasuring you.

Mingi hooked his chin on your shoulder and grinned, loving to see the effects his ministrations were causing you.

"Look at you, Darlin'." He gave a harder rub of his finger against that little nub hidden at the peak of your heat. He bit back a moan feeling you clench against his thick finger that was currently prodding your sweet wet center. He shuddered and your hips squirmed. Mingi lifted and lowered his fingers until both sank inside the hot core and massaged. Your back was arched, and a whimpered sob of utter bliss was loud and clear.

"Mingi..." The name came out breathlessly and your hands reached back to grip his forearms, the pads of your fingers gripping tightly as you turned and your eyes locked with Mingi's. Mingi pressed closer to you, lips trailing back up to the side of your neck, and claimed another hungry kiss. Your moans vibrated, Mingi growled in pleasure as he removed his fingers and snaked around you, turning you so that your legs ended up straddling his waist. Mingi sat back, the ends of his hair soaked, strands curling against the nape of his neck and temples as he watched you lower yourself on his cock.

"Just like that, beautiful. God, you feel fantastic." He muttered, reaching up to brush his lips back over yours. "How do you feel, darlin'? My size okay? Any pain? Need me to go softer or harder?"

You bit your lip, marveling at the sweetness the cowboy was treating you. Your insides squeezed, your muscles contracting and pulsating around him. A cuss of pleasure came from him as he slid up a little more, hands taking your waist, guiding you to lean back against his wet chest. The suds and bubbles moved away, exposing more of the heated contact to the cooler air.

Your nails scraped gently up Mingi's thighs and you sank further, feeling a slight resistance, but still feeling wonderful.

"Oh god, Mingi."

"I know, darlin'..." One hand rested on your hips under the water, the other cupping your breast and kneading, enjoying the warm mound beneath his palm. "Tell me, darlin'. How does this compare to your ex-husband? Be honest..." He breathed, burying his face into the back of your neck, kissing the hot skin.

"He never filled me like this...so good...so full...God..."

He ground his teeth a little, groaning through his teeth as he nipped your earlobe, keeping his eyes trained on your back and sides. You moaned, not caring how much noise you were making. Mingi leaned into you and stole another hungry kiss before whispering, "No worries, you can scream as loud as you like with me, darlin’. I'll take you harder and fill you even more."

"Yes, please. Fuck, Mingi...." Your breathless and heady voice caused Mingi's self-control to break. He thrust a little harder and gripped you tightly.

Mingi snaked an arm around the front of you, grabbing your wrist and pushing his weight to the back of you. With each thrust the water began to slosh, threatening to spill from the edges of the tub and onto the wooden floor. "Mingi-" 

The thrusts turned rough, yet there wasn't any pain. You reached out, searching and grabbing, anything, needing something to hold onto. Seeing what you needed, he repositioned you so that your breasts were now pressed against his chest. You wrapped your arms around his neck, rocking against him. You didn't care if the water had gotten everywhere by now. Your pussy throbbed and clutched. He felt so big and you were impossibly full with him, the way his thickness was lodged inside and caressed every inch of your walls.

"Is this all you need, darlin'?" He asked. His words came out short and clipped as he panted.

Your response was only a loud mewl.

His hands pressed tight against your back, keeping you close, and the arm hooked beneath your bottom increased its grip.

You bounced upon his lap, your movements jagged, unable to do anything more. All you could do was cling to Mingi.

"There, Darlin...such a good girl for me..." He mumbled through a moan. His voice was gruff and it made your skin prickle.

"More..." you moaned back.

"Yeah? I'mma need to move this elsewhere to give you more, Darlin'." Mingi spoke against your shoulder, peppering a kiss to soothe you. His cock felt so good inside you. "Don't worry, Darlin'. I'm not done with you, yet. We still have the bedroom, and I need to have you ride me." Mingi purred while his mouth searched your body.

A throaty chuckle erupted from Mingi as he heard your cries for him.

You yelped and whined, surprised as his arms maneuvered you, and lifted you right out of the tub. The world blurred around you, Mingi's wet flesh clinging to your own. A second later, you felt yourself land upon the cool sheets of the mattress. The fluffy bedding was a welcome feeling as Mingi's wet frame pressed to you, your lips reconnecting once more.

"We didn't wash up..." You let out a small moan of contentment against the warmth of Mingi's neck, the skin dewy and soft.

"Guess not, but I certainly enjoyed a bath with you nonetheless, Darlin’." Mingi purred against your shoulder, flipping to lay on his back and bring you on top of him. He spread your legs further and gripped your hips in both his palms as you slid down on him. "Damn...Y/N..."

"You said you wanted me to ride you, didn't you?" You smirked, settling back on him.

"Oh...that was one of the best ideas I've ever had...aight, show me what ya got..." He placed one hand on your waist while the other was laid above his head, his grin impossibly wide and goofy as his eyes met yours. "By all means, show me, darlin'."

Fuck, bathtub sex was good but being atop such a fine specimen like Mingi...this was even better...and a whole other level of sensual.

"Mingi...my god..." Your breath caught, eyes slamming shut and rolling into your skull as you sunk deeper and began riding him with more passion.

He cursed under his breath. "Fuck, your pussy is fucking perfect." He smiled, watching the view from under. Mingi was lying there, watching you move above him and he groaned.

"So hot...the way you are riding me...damn." He was straining with how good you were feeling. Your pussy squeezed around Mingi's thick cock, and your hand slid along his broad chest and down his sculpted torso. You trailed along his muscles, and Mingi watched you explore his body while you bounced atop his erection. He loved this.

"Look at you, Y/N.." Mingi smiled.

"So big.." you were stretched in a way you had never been before. "So full..." You whined, completely lost in him.

His hands wrapped tighter around your hips as he helped bounce you up and down his cock.

You continued riding the cowboy for a few more minutes. Mingi brought a hand up, running his thumb along the wet folds of your pussy and you whimpered, gasping when he started circling your clit. "Mingi.." his name came out louder, turning to a wail as you were right on the verge.

"Do it, cum all over me, let me feel it, I'm getting close. So close, darlin’." Mingi barked back, a growl emerging and his hands gripped hard as he pounded up and into you.

"Ooooh, yes!"

He sat up quickly, kissing you again as he thrust deeply until he could go no more, releasing. He jerked, pumping every last bit into you before easing down onto his back with an exhausted and spent laugh.

You collapsed over him and snuggled in closely.

"Wow."

"Yeah, wow." Mingi agreed and he looked down at you and your naked form, which was intertwined with his. You snuggled in closer and were amazed at his energy. "Better than with your ex-husband?"

You let out a laugh and you pulled his hands and wrapped them around your waist. Your hands ran across his skin and his face had an easy smile, those chocolate eyes softening. You pushed yourself closer to him, which he welcomed. "Most definitely."

"How would you feel if I stayed with you to protect you and ensure you arrived wherever you wanted to go? I promise to make sure you aren't in any trouble. That's if you would like the company."

A smile spread over your lips, and you nodded your approval. You'd love nothing more than the company of a handsome man with a good heart such as Mingi. He smiled in return placed a small kiss on the tip of your nose and held you tighter, drawing the covers of your bed over the both of you. You smiled a little as you looked at him. The night air filled with a beautiful silence. It was comfortable. Neither of you spoke, but eventually, Mingi whispered into the dark:

"Y'know what Darlin'? I reckon we can manage life together just fine."

You giggled and nodded. "I have a feeling you're right about that."

[bitterrfruit]

wild cherries [2]

[masterlist]

Price x f!Reader - tags: modern western AU, cowboy!Price, light sadomasochism, brat taming, spanking, humiliation, chasing, dubcon if you squint 18+ mdni - 7.1k words

Old enough now to change your name When so many love you, is it the same? It's the woman in you That makes you want to play this game

If Mr Price’s goal had been to deter you, he had sorely failed. 

Not his scoldings, nor his threats, nor his blatant distaste for you and your family did anything to discourage your habits. More than anything, he emboldened you. There was something in his voice, you thought, some reflection in his censorious eyes that told you there was more to find. That you needed only summon the bravery to dig deeper. 

You were sent home with the uneaten jam, and when you dumped it on the kitchen counter, Evelyn had scoffed, appalled; “What an asshole.”

When you asked her what she thought was going to happen, she merely sucked her teeth and stormed off to inform Miles of your apparent failure. 

There was more at play than they were willing to share with you, though that wasn’t uncommon. That had even been the case even while your parents were still alive. You’re just away-with-the-fairies, daddy used to tell you, and thus your siblings deemed you ill-prepared; too airheaded to assist them with the supposedly meticulous puzzle of running a family business.

It didn’t bother you, though, not too much. It did hurt when they would exchange unspoken words at your expense, shooting each other a glance when you attempted to wedge yourself into whatever scheme they were working on. But, all the same, you knew that you would hate shouldering that level of responsibility. That you’d bitterly begrudge the weight of generational expectations if they were dropped on you, as they were on them. 

No, as the youngest, silliest sibling, you were given more grace. You were allowed to roam unfettered. Not purposefully, no explicit permission was given to encourage your escapades - instead, not two days after returning home, it was as though they had forgotten that you were there at all. If you kept to yourself, stayed out of trouble, they paid no mind to your capers; there was always something more important that pulled their attention away. 

So, while they were busy ordering around their ranchmen and managing the many industries of your family ranch, you had already slithered through your little broken gate, before the scorching midsummer sun had made it halfway across the sky.

You meandered down the rows of his overgrown cherry trees like they belonged to you. The trees were old, likely fruiting since before you were born, and their trunks were thick and sturdy at the base. They had once been well pruned, so the lower branches were stockier, but years of neglect had allowed skinnier, floppier chutes to grow out from the tops. They were so laden with fruit that they drooped low, and you felt as if they were reaching down to offer their treats directly to you. 

You picked the prettiest, glossiest, reddest ones, and made a basket out of the skirt of your cream-coloured frock; nobody was around to see your bared legs underneath, and so you collected as many as would fit. Popping them behind your teeth and meticulously nibbling the flesh from the pit, you’d spit the cleaned core into the grass as you moved onto the next. Maybe, you thought, the pits you discarded would one day grow into even more trees to succeed the old ones.

You left a trail wherever you ventured. Little wet pits and green tooth-pick stalks in piles around the place; in stables, along pathways, among the cows. Sometimes you’d leave juicy red fingerprints on door frames, on the planks of fences, on horse snouts – perfectly incriminating.  

In scuffing sandals you wandered aimlessly along an old dirt road, long unused; green sprigs of grass and bunches of wildflowers almost covered it entirely. An old route that settlers may have followed state to state, spotted occasionally with two-hundred-year-old milestones, ignored just enough to have been spared from crumbling to dust.  

Shaded by a cottonwood, humming to yourself, you created a little tipi with your cherry stalks on the flat top of a mile marker. Balanced them carefully as you licked sweet flesh from your teeth. And when a gentle breeze blew it over, scattering your creation, you leaned over the stone to pick them from the dry gravel around its base.  

One, two, three, four… 

At the familiar rumble of a truck trundling over dirt, you straighten your spine, palms resting on the edge of the milestone as you look over your shoulder. A dusty Chevy square-body had already coasted to a stop behind you, pale blue paint faded and matte after at least a decade of proper use.  

There he was, the enigmatic man, hanging his elbow out of the open window. John squinted at you through the glare of the afternoon sun, the wrinkles in the corners of his eyes pinching, barely shaded by the cattleman he wore even inside his truck. Your throat bobbed with a swallow as you caught his eye, adrenaline flickered like a flame in your chest. 

With a disapproving suck of his teeth, he grumbled at you, “What’d I tell you, last time I saw you?” 

Plucking the short skirt of your cotton dress downward, to cover where it had ridden up, you spun around to face him demurely.  

“D’you remember?” He insisted, tone richly disparaging. 

“You don’t want trouble,” you answered meekly, through a little smile, shyly scratching the back of one hand with the fingernails of the other. 

“I don’t want trouble,” he repeated, a confirming grunt, as he tapped the metal door with his palm. He flicked his head, gesturing for you to make your way around to the passenger side. “G’on. Get in.”  

Your brows knotted in doubtful confusion. “What for?” 

“I’m takin’ you back to your brother,” he barked, irate and impatient, “I’ve got some words for him, too.” 

You absently kicked the rocky dirt with the heel of your sandal, pouting at him. “What words would those be?”  

With a snort, he rocked his head to glare ahead out of his windshield, then back to you. “To keep a fuckin’ handle on you.”  

“Don’t think there’s anything you could tell him that he hasn’t already tried,” you mumbled, attempting to subtly flick the handful of cherry stalks you had collected to the ground.  

He chuckled at that, breathy and hoarse, a hint of frustration in his throat. “I believe that,” he scoffed. “C’mon. In. Don’t make me ask again.”  

You chewed on your lip, squinting in challenge as you stood up straight. “Or what?”  

Glowering at you, nostrils flared in frustration, he seemed to swallow what must have been an inappropriate retort. Instead, his arm retracted through his window, and following the thud of the handle he swung open the door with his forearm.  

With a hop he landed in the dirt, dust rising from under his well-worn leather boots. Christ, how he towered over you. It may well have been the menacing shadow of his sizzling anger that made him seem so daunting, and yet so delightfully thrilling. You felt the prickles of gooseflesh tingle down the back of your neck as you tilted your head to look up at him, sheepishly watching his steady approach, not yet daring to retreat.  

“You’ll be in more trouble than I will if you lay a hand on me,” you spat, with a faint smirk in your lips.  

He gazed down the bridge of his nose at you, lour combed you from your bare legs to your skittish expression - but, stare caught brazenly on your chest, his sneer sunk quickly into a pout of disapproval.

“Care to explain this?” He queried severely, wide hand reaching for you, you leaned back further against the milestone behind you as if you might evade him. With his fingers he pinched the cream cotton of your blouse, and for a moment you feared he was peering down the gap, blatantly inspecting your bare breasts underneath.  

But, no, he instead curled the light fabric between his fingers to show you the bright red stain dribbled down the front.  

Oops. Your gut reaction was to giggle, yet unsure whether to admit guilt or feign ignorance. 

As you parted your lips to speak, his judging hand moved to your face; a hold of your chin with a thumb and hooked finger. Piercing eyes glued to your lips, his impatient focus withered into ire, shadowed under the brim of his cattleman.  

Your tongue writhed behind your teeth, heart thumping in your throat, as he tilted your head up and to the side. His thumb wiped over your bottom lip, firmly and precisely, from the corner to the centre. Your lips were suddenly hypersensitive, his touch charged, it sent a tingling current through the soft pink flesh and made your mouth all wet. 

“You’re a little thief,” he gritted, dropping your head and peering at the red smear of juice on the pad of his thumb. “Aren’t you.”  

Were you scared of him? 

It was hard to distinguish your fluttering heart rate between terror and thrill – a touch of both. Because you didn’t know him. You couldn’t trust him. You had no basis to assume he wouldn’t club you with a closed fist and throw you in the back of his pickup. But you felt the prickles his touch left behind on your lip. You got stuck on his pinched blue eyes, the glare of the sun reflected off your dress and illuminated them like they glowed from within.  

“No I’m not,” you muttered, readjusting your dress after he left creases in the neckline.  

“And a liar?” He scoffed, as he grabbed one of your wrists – tugging up your hand to reveal the sticky burgundy juice under your fingernails, drips dried in your palm. “You’re covered in evidence, honey.”  

Snatching your hand from him, you crossed your arms in petulance. “It’s not stealing if you don’t use it.”  

“The fuck it isn’t,” he snapped, wiping his juicy thumb off on his denim-blue button down, leaving a stain of red among the blue. He hooked his hands onto his hips. “Now get in the goddamn truck.”  

“I can walk home,” you grumbled, “you’re not the boss of me.”  

Huffing in anger, he leaned forward, looming over you with a domineering scowl. “While you’re on my property – yes I am.”  

Glaring up at him from under your brow, you nibbled at the inside of your lip, pursing your lips. “What’re you gonna do if I don’t go with you. Kidnap me?”  

He tilted his head, shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve got some rope in the truck,” he gruffly warned, “you gonna make me use it?”  

Did you imagine the glint in his eye? Did you make up the lascivious quip in his tone? Whether or not it was dreamt, it plucked a coy smirk in your lips.  

He was daring you, wasn’t he? Goading you to challenge him.  

So with a glistening smile you reached for his cattleman hat – plucked it from his head, and swiftly placed it on your own. Too big to sit properly, you perched it on the back of your head so that you could still see out from under the brim.  

“Hey!” He barked, lunging to snatch it back from you – but you bolted, kicking off your sandals, ducking under his arm and sprinting across the dirt road. Through the field of grass and dry wildflowers, you bounded like a deer. “Fuck’s sake.”  

Holding his hat in place, you peeked over your shoulder in your escape, and he was swiftly in pursuit.  

“God dammit, girl, you get back here!” He roared – already closing the distance. You hadn’t expected a man as bulky as him to sprint as fast as he was, but he charged after you like a grizzly.  

You only giggled, leaping over fallen logs and stray planks of wood, weaving between the trees that littered the outskirts of his prairies.  

“If you get so much as a dent in that hat I’ll fuckin’–”  

“You’ll what?” You squealed through a grin, holding the skirt of your short dress in a fist against your hips, to allow your legs to sprint in full stride.  

You heard him grunt, close to a growl, as he encroached on you. “You’ll be in big fuckin’ trouble!” 

Breathless, panting, you failed to think of any witty response as you dashed towards one of the many stables on his expansive property – this one devoid of horses or livestock, simply a storage building for stacks of haybales and racks of tools. You’d perused it before. He might have found more discarded cherry pits in there. 

He was behind you already, as you barrelled through the ajar stable door, tumbling into the centre of the dishevelled space. Illuminated only by the cracks of glowing sunlight that broke through gaps in the plywood boards, you stood among scattered hay and dust. You turned and faced the entrance, watching in anticipation as he steamed in after you.  

Face burning red in fury and exasperation, he jabbed two angry fingers in your direction. “Give me the hat,” he ordered, throaty and severely – not an ounce of humour left.  

But stubborn as you were, overly enjoying the needless chase, you were not going to capitulate that easily. You stood poised to dash, and with hunched shoulders, he prepared to hound after you.  

“I like it,” you puffed, exhilarated, purposefully impudent. You pinched the brim, pulling it down with a disingenuous hat-tip. “It probably looks better on me.”  

“Even if it does,” he chided through teeth, out of breath, “it’s not yours.”  

You snickered girlishly, pursing your lips. “Maybe it should be.”  

“Give it to me.” He thundered, hand outstretched, your heart flipped within your ribs at the sudden eruption of stern rage.  

So you spun on the ball of your bare foot, before flitting hastily towards the rickety ladder that led up to the hayloft. Clambering up it like a spider, the old wood and rusted nails squealed in dispute of being used for likely the first time in decades.  

But he was blindingly rapid in his chase, and before you made it even halfway up the ladder, his heaving forearm scooped around your waist and hooked you by the stomach.  

“C’mere,” he growled, through a clenched jaw, as he peeled you from the ladder; hoisting you like a small animal, he held your back to his chest with a constricting arm and your feet dangled high off the ground. 

You writhed and kicked, bucking like a goat, still holding his hat tightly to your head to prevent him from snatching it back from you. “Let go of me!” You squeaked, still giggling.  

“No,” he snarled, “I’m taking my fuckin’ hat back, and then I’m taking you back to your big brother so he can knock some goddamn sense into you.” 

You whinged, clutching his thick forearm in an effort to loosen his grip. You dug your nails into his tanned and hairy skin, corded with veins bulging from the exertion of keeping you contained. His body burned like a furnace, pectorals stiffening underneath you as he flexed them while he began hauling you towards the exit.  

“It’s just a hat,” you whined, “you’ve probably got plenty of them.”  

Your obstinance was aimless – no particular interest in the hat, and no true understanding of why you fought so desperately to keep it. Maybe you just wanted to see how far you could push him. Wanted to see what would happen once you went over the edge.  

“It was my father’s,” he griped, anger approaching a boiling point as you continued to squirm around in his grip.  

You groaned in dispute, still holding the leather cattleman tightly to your head. “Well he won’t be needing it, will he?”  

That was a step over the line.  

You knew it immediately, quick to bite down hard on your tongue after the words spat from your lips like poison.  

His retaliation was sudden and severe; dragging you closer to the exit, he tossed you unceremoniously, almost tumbling down with you into the pile of block-shaped haybales that sat by the stable door. You landed face-down against a bale, winded, a squeak jumping from your chest with the impact; and his hat toppled from your head, rolling out of reach.   

He dropped to his knees behind you, leaned his forearm heavy against your lower back, and you were flustered and confused by his haste – skirt hitched up by the fall, he suddenly swung his free hand down with an open palm, smacking against the bare skin of your ass with a thunderous whack. 

“Ah!” You squealed, a shriek, followed quickly by a breathless whine that slipped from your lungs outside of your control. The explosive clap rang in your ears, echoing within the bowels of the stables, loud and shrill. And the sting was sharp, hot and prickling like a brand, no doubt the raised outline of his hand was quick to form in your shivering skin.  

A silence followed, pregnant and heavy, and you dared not move nor breathe too loudly – you inhaled and exhaled with trembling breaths, lips parted and wet, eyes wide as you stared into the packed hay.  

He was dead quiet, too. Panting throatily, he kept you in place - grip of you not easing, though he stayed utterly still. You waited for him to apologise, to express some remorse for his blatant degradation, to beg for you not to tell your family what he did. But he was silent. Almost proud. 

You tilted your head slowly, peering at him doe-eyed over your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” you whimpered, close to a whisper, dripping with pleading humiliation.  

“For what?” He growled; voracity burned hot and bright in his otherwise shadowed glower, and you felt yourself shrivel, intimidated into diffident obedience.  

With a whine you turned your head back, facing ahead into the shack wall, you spoke quietly and nervously. “For taking your hat.”  

Followed another swing of his arm, wide hand colliding with your rear in another deafening crack, forcing a laboured squeak from your chest. But there was something more than pain in your throat, wasn’t there? A whisper of thrill, a yelp of delight in your subsequent gasp.  

And he must have heard it, taken it as encouragement. You felt the hand that pinned you down curl into a fist, balling the fabric of your dress tightly in his palm and lifting up the hem even further. You felt the cool air of the stable bite at your stinging skin, your rear entirely exposed to him.  

“Yeah?” He rumbled, gritting teeth, huffing like a beast. “What else?” 

You stared face down into the bale of prickling hay, sipping the turgid air like warm milk and scouring your mind for your next apology. There was a long list of transgressions he could demand an apology for. Would he punish you for every single one? Did you want him to? 

His spread hand hovered over the skin of your ass, a threat – it ghosted over the fine fuzz and triggered ripples of gooseflesh to radiate out from the faint touch. 

“I’m sorry for–” you uttered, barely a croak, “for making you chase me.” 

The second you spoke it, your entire body tensed itself on instinct – girding itself for the discipline that would inevitably follow. Swift and purposeful, he raised his arm, reeling it back like the string of a bow. And he released it just as suddenly, hurling his palm downward rapidly enough to emit a whistle through the air; it collided with your ass in a sharp smack, over the same burning handprint he had already left there. 

The force of it thrusted you forward, knocked a helpless squeal from your throat. You whimpered at the grit and dust grinding under your knees as it rocked you, your hands that had flat on the haybale turned to fists as you desperately squeezed handfuls of straw. 

“Mhm,” he grumbled, grave and deep. “And?” 

You swallowed air through your open mouth, your heart thundered in your ears – out of breath, but too wary to inhale deeply enough to sate it.  

“For…” you hesitated, “for talking bad on your father.” 

Keeping your hips still with his restraining forearm, he raised his free arm once again; you held your breath, squeezed shut your eyes in preparation for the blow. Swing. Smack. 

Each collision of his vicious hand over the same spot burned worse than the last, as though his palm was adorned with barbs that pierced your fevered skin on impact. Yet a quiet moan slithered from your chest, slipped from your tongue, oozed like honey. 

He drew in a grumbling breath, strained as he sucked it deep. Could he hear the pining titillation in your throat, dripping from each yelp? Might he hit you harder for it?  

You winced, shivered, as his wide hand rested against the matching print that only grew more raised and more red by the second, the touch by turn warming and punishing. “Keep goin’.” 

“I’m–” 

Bitten off by a gasp as his fingers pushed in only slightly, they burrowed into the pillowy flesh of your ass as though the squeeze was unintentional – the pressure on your near-broken skin inflicted a sparkling ache that made you whimper. 

“I’m sorry for stealing cherries,” you force out, in a wet mewl. 

He bore his dissatisfaction with a cocksure suck of his teeth. “Whose cherries?” 

“Yours,” you squeaked.  

“Mh,” he nodded, grinded out through a tight jaw. “Mine.” 

Followed quickly your castigation; the swish of his hand hurtling through the air, the ear-splitting crack of his open palm striking beaten flesh, the whine of twisted thrill that squealed out from your lips. 

“My cherries–” he spat, unrelenting; again he lifted his palm, letting it hover in the air for a brief moment before he brought it down with a force.  

Smack. 

“–My orchard–” 

Smack. 

“–My hat–” 

Smack. 

“–My horses–” 

Smack. 

“–My stable–” 

Smack. 

“–My land.” 

Smack. 

The final blow threw a saccharine cry from your heaving lungs, dosed with a shameful squeak of desperation, wet and eager; eyes watering, your head collapsed into the haybale, prickly against your bright red cheek. 

The skin of your rear stung numb, throbbing like a heartbeat, your knees shook with the adrenaline that riddled you from head to toe and turned your muscles to jelly.   

You adjusted your knees to balance yourself after he had knocked you off kilter, and you felt the slick that had seeped from you. With a grimace of ignited humiliation, you realised your cunt was drenched in slippery syrup, the cool air biting cold at the saturated patch of your floral pointelle panties. 

You could only suck your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down in abashment and guilt, self-flagellation for the burning heat that had pooled between your legs; almost as blindingly consuming as the white-hot sting of his hand-shaped brand. 

He leaned back from you, balanced himself with his hand on your ass. Panting like a wolf, he wiped his brow with the back of his hand as though he had overexerted himself, broken a sweat in his outburst. Seemed to pause as he looked over his handiwork – had spanked you hard enough that you wouldn’t doubt how crisp the perfect outline of his hand would have been. Perhaps it was purple, speckled with the spots of broken capillaries and blood seeping under the hot skin. 

But it mustn’t have been the damage he had inflicted that he was stuck on, as you heard his heavy breathing degrade into hoarse, animalistic chuffing; a broken grunt as though he had been kicked in the stomach. 

You felt his thumb, slow and probing as though influenced by an unseen force – creep towards the cleft of your ass, running along the elastic lace hem of your panties. Teased the trim like it might slip underneath, but it didn’t. No, instead, he hovered it over the gusset, barely grazing the sodden fabric. 

Eyes fluttering shut, you inhaled weakly, a quiet whine as he pushed his thumb into the valley of your cunt; wetting the tip with your fluid that soaked the thin cotton, dipping into you as though the single layer of fabric wasn’t the only barrier preventing him from plunging it deeper. 

He must have felt the ring of muscle at your entrance tighten and twitch, an inadvertent reflex to his intrusion – because he pressed the pad of his thumb a little deeper to feel it flutter around him, before he pulled his hand away. You quickly released a sharp and feverish breath, cunt still pulsing around the painful absence of his finger. 

“Alright,” he huffed, through teeth, as he rubbed the back of his head in exasperation. “Reckon you learned your lesson?” 

You squeaked as you felt his pelvis press against yours, weighing against you from behind; as he leaned over you, reaching past you to pick up the cattleman that he had knocked from your head. 

“Huh?” He persisted.  

“Yes,” you croaked, realising his demand, you were quick to follow it. You leaned upright, kneeling still, as you tugged down the skirt of your dress to cover yourself; grimacing as the light fabric brushed over the burning welt on your rear. 

With a hand on his knee he pushed himself to stand, sniffing in vexation as he dusted off his jeans. Bowed his head to put his hat back in its rightful place, pinching the leather crown with a single hand as he gave it a shimmy to adjust it. “Yes what?” 

Through a whimper, you whispered, “Yes sir.” 

“’Atta girl,” he gritted, “learned you some manners.” 

You feebly swept a lock of your dishevelled hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear, too poignantly humiliated to think of anything pert to utter. 

“Up y’get.” 

It took you a moment to gather the nerve to stand, breathing carefully as you placed your hand on the edge of the haybale. Impatient, evidently, John bent down to you, slipping his broad hands under your arms in an effort to pick you up. 

You yipped, wriggling away from his grasping hands as he hoisted you upright, and you landed on your feet with a wobble. “I can walk,” you bit. 

“Yeah, right,” he groused, spinning you by the torso before hooking his arm around your waist; you yelped as he tossed you callously over his shoulder like a wet rag. “I ain’t letting you run off again, missy.” 

“I wasn’t gonna run,” you whinged, but you mustered no resistance as he hauled you towards the stable door, kicking it open with his boot. 

He snorted as he adjusted you on his shoulder, carting you out into the scorching midday sun. The hum of the cicadas blared, almost deafening, and there was no cool breeze to alleviate the burn on your rear; only the sun to bake it.  

Trudging through the long grass, no doubt towards his truck, he chided; “D’you expect me to trust you?” 

You bit your tongue, combed your scrambled mind for any retaliation. “I don’t want to get in trouble again,” you mumbled.   

“I don’t believe that for a second,” he sneered, “I think trouble is the only thing you want.”  

The pressure of his thumb lingered against your entrance, a permanent impression that made your heart flutter at the memory. Perhaps he was right.  

“That’s not true.”  

“No?” He questioned scornfully, grasping hand digging into the side of your waist to keep you steady. “Then why’d you come back here, huh?”  

You pouted, staring into the grass, watching the back of his boots rise and fall with each step. Would you tell him it was just to see him? Just to have him find and scold you? Just to toe the line? Long since crossed, wasn’t it.  

“I wanted some cherries,” you lied.  

“Uh-huh,” he scoffed, as the grass began to shorten, bleeding to the rubble and dust of the old road. You heard the deep click of a handle, the rattling of the truck door, the moaning of its old hinges as it swung open. “Was it worth it?” 

You hesitated, gasping as he tossed you into the passenger door of his Chevy – you landed on your back across the worn leather bench seat, bouncing slightly in the fall, head narrowly missing the steering wheel. 

“Yes,” you breathed, to answer his question, and he froze like you had caught him in a bear trap.  

He stood imperiously between your knees as your feet dangled out of the open door, skirt having been rucked up by the landing. He glowered down at you, lips in a thin and admonishing line, but his predacious eyes betrayed his stoicism.  

Glare clawed down your splayed form from your dewy lips to the swell of your breasts, to the bare skin where your thighs met your hips. Catching a glimpse of the mound of your pussy from under the hem, hidden from him by the dainty fabric of your underwear.  

He breathed raggedly through flared nostrils, put a white-knuckled hand against the top of the doorframe, casting a looming shadow over your body. His gaze was pointed, fiery, burned from lidded eyes - you felt the heat of his stare, it made you sweat. Made your cunt ache unbearably for his attention.  

Tongue squirming, too bashful to form a plea; you made your entreaty with a meek hand, tracing your fingertips down your stomach, catching in the pleats and folds of your linen dress. With a hook of your fingers under the hem of your skirt, you coaxed it upwards, coyly exposing yourself bit by bit. Watched cautiously as his lour raptly followed your movements, belying his stone-faced expression.  

But he stopped you, or himself, with a light smack on the outside of your thigh, a scolding. And he ordered, dark and strained;  

“Settle down.”  

With a moan of petulant defeat, you dropped your arm to your side.  

“I’m takin’ you home,” he grumbled, reaching for your skirt – did so with purposeful cruelty, letting his calloused hand graze up your thigh as he grabbed the hem and tugged it downwards to cover your panties.  

He took impatient hold of your knees and swivelled them inside the cab, before shutting the passenger door with a creaking swing and a loud slam. You sat yourself upright, wincing at the painful reminder of the lashings on your rear as it pressed into the firm leather seat. He marched around the truck and hopped in behind the steering wheel, you crossed your arms churlishly as you glared out the passenger window.  

You bounced around in your seat as he started the engine and accelerated off down the deteriorated dirt road, the vibrations of the rolling vehicle doing little to settle the sore throbbing between your legs.  

“I’m telling my brother what you did,” you griped, rich with spite.  

“You can tell ‘im whatever you want,” he scoffed, hanging his arm out his open window, wrenching the steering wheel in the tight grip of his closer hand.  

“I’ll tell him you hit me.”  

“Yeah?” He gibed, “Gonna tell him how worked up you got?”  

Scowling, you felt your cheeks glow red as you stared out the window. “I’m not worked up,” you fibbed.  

“Sure seems like it.” You could hear his smirk without having to look at him.  

You fumed. “Sounds like you’re proud of yourself." 

He only released a quiet huff of scornful laughter in response to that. Nothing snide left to say, now that you’d accused him of purposefully arousing you. But he was right. It was all you could think about, writhing and sizzling in your mind and in your stomach; a fire that he had lit. Now he mocked you for being ablaze.  

You could only sulk, keeping your arms vitriolically crossed and refusing to utter a single word until the truck rolled up your drive, and came to a halt over the raw gravel of the turn-around. 

You spotted Miles in discussion with the foreman by the front steps of your family farmhouse, head bowed as though discussing something of import. But upon seeing John’s truck approaching, he dismissed him with a wave, and adjusted the black pinch-front hat that shaded his face while walking in the truck’s direction. 

John left the engine running and hopped out with a grunt. You sorely begrudged the idea of letting him best you, allowing him to feel like he had been victorious in forcibly taming you. Your cheeks, still pink, burned even hotter at the thought of him scolding you to your brother like you were wayward juvenile. 

So in the brief seconds you had before he stormed around to the passenger side, you slipped your hands under your dress. Tucked your fingertips into the waistband of your panties, bucked your hips as you shimmied them down your legs and plucked them over your feet. And you nestled them behind you, out of sight as John yanked open your door, beckoning with an impatient and commanding hand for you to step out.  

You groaned as you followed his wordless demand, jumping down into the gravel and glaring up at him with a vindictive curl in your lips. You spitefully stayed still, then, not taking a step in any direction of your own volition, wary that he might glance upwards and spot the coquettish little calling card you left in his truck.  

“Move it,” he ordered.   

You only pouted. “You’re such a dick.”  

With an exasperated roll of his eyes, he tugged your shoulder in the direction of your house – then lodged his hand at the back of your neck, under your hair, an authoritative grasp so that he could drive you by it. And he did, you stumbled awkwardly over your bare feet as he nudged you along.  

Miles had his hands on his hips, but crossed his arms dubiously as he came to a stop in front of you.

“Jonathan,” he greeted stiffly, blinking at you with a knit in his brow. “Y’found her.” 

You gave him a look of insolent anger before you glared into the distance, flushed with fervent humiliation, disguising it as malice. You crossed your arms over your chest, hiding the cherry stains from him. 

“Trespassing,” John growled tersely. “Again.” 

Miles hooked his thumbs in his belt loops, squinting at him. You had expected him to put up more of a fuss, to berate the estranged neighbour for being as bold as to put his hand on you, carting you around like one of his cattle. It seemed, though, that he was more interested in maintaining a degree of decorum, keeping the peace, for a reason you could not fathom but were nonetheless grateful for. 

“Fence is on your property, John. S’your problem if she fits through the gaps.”  

“You need to keep a handle on her,” John snarled, thick with derision, fuse running short. He released your neck with a slight shove, then, and you vindictively rolled your shoulder away from his lingering touch.  

Miles snorted. “Looks like y’got a better handle on her than I ever will.”  

Had enough, you stormed away from the condescending rancher, marching with your arms crossed towards the steps.  

“Y’know what happens if I catch you back on my property, don’t you, girl?” John barked after you, a growl in his throat. 

Shoving past your bewildered brother as you trudged up the creaking stairs, you rolled your eyes. Concealed the coy smirk that curled in the corner of your lips, you answered with a grouse;  

“Trouble.”  

-----

John wiped an open hand down his face as he sped along the dirt drive, white-knuckled and stiff. 

The road was clear and bright ahead of him, glowing by virtue of the blinding sun, and yet he could not focus on it. His vision blurred by the image of you standing winsomely among the wildflowers. He was distracted by the sight of the harsh sunlight unveiling you, the thin cotton of your dress failing to conceal the shadows of your soft nipples, blissfully unaware they were revealed to him so vividly. 

His palm still stung red and hot, tingled under his skin like needle pricks in the aftermath of his ruthless discipline. He knew he should feel guilty. That he should be chastising himself for assaulting you, for unleashing his long-caged fury in an eruption of rapacious torment. 

But he didn’t. He felt not an ounce of shame. 

Instead, he felt angry. Angry at the knot that was tight and wrenching in his stomach, at the heat that flared in the back of his neck. Angry that he could still smell you in the cab of his car, your berry-scented shampoo and the animal musk of your frightened sweat, drawn out by the chase. 

Angry that he fell for your bait, that he gave you the satisfaction of retaliation for your insolent behaviour. 

Christ, some satisfaction he gave you. 

Despite all valiant effort he could not dispel the picture of your tiny, frilly knickers. Worn under your sheer frock, so visible in the sunlight, as if to purposefully entice him upon their reveal. The delicate fabric turned so dark where it was sodden, it demanded his attention even if he attempted to ignore it. His compulsion to touch between your legs was undriven, and he could not resist it - he had to check, to know for certain, that such an abasement had filled your cunt with eager nectar, so much of it. That your body responded to its punishment as praise, to its degradation as pleasure. 

Such knowledge ridded him of any guilt, even if it should have done the opposite. But it did little to temper his indignation. Now, he understands what drives you. The fuel for your delinquency. 

Is it a lack of attention, sweetheart? Do you yearn for somebody to notice your misdeeds? For someone to care to penalise you?

Are you so bored, so neglected, that your cunt drives you to self-sabotage? 

He should have guessed it from your persistence, from the frequency of your unwanted visits and the habitual nature of your crimes. From your coy little smiles, the way you’d flutter your pretty eyes at him whenever he scolded you. 

He knew then, conclusively, that in order to deter you, he mustn’t embolden you. Mustn’t satisfy you with his anger or his reprimand, mustn’t indulge your kittenish efforts to provoke him. 

But he heard still your cloying cries ringing loud in his ears, the yelps he forced from your little throat each time he struck the soft, supple flesh of your rear. Still saw the way your skin rippled with the impact, the way your fine hairs stood on end after each lashing. The pretty purple marbling that formed in his handprint, swollen and red. The way your loose hair spread over your shoulders, knotting and picking up bits of straw from where you had landed. The way your toes curled when his touching shifted from punishment to exploration, when his fingertip felt the lips of your soaking pussy through the painfully thin cotton of your panties. 

Fuck. 

It would be far easier said than done. 

Would you get that wet, so wet, if he simply yelled at you? If he chased you once again off his property? If he berated you for helping yourself to his fruits? 

He glanced over his shoulder to where you had sat cross-armed and sulking, where your bare thighs had pressed against the leather of his truck seat. Wondered if your juices might have soaked through your knickers on the drive over, worsened by the bouncing of the truck trundling over raw dirt and loose stones. 

Instead, he was met with a little white handkerchief. Soft woven fabric, and as he tried to peel his eyes from the road to inspect it closer, he saw it was dotted with small and dainty flowers, pink and green. 

He recognised them, in a heartbeat; pulled his truck to a screeching halt and pulled up onto the grassy shoulder, next to the poplar windbreak that lined his fence. He reached over to snatch up the little white bundle, eyes squinting in disbelief as he felt the gentle fabric between his fingers, still warm from where it had been tight against your skin.

Unfurled them in his hands, and the air escaped his lungs in a jagged breath. 

“Fuck’s sake,” he growled hoarsely to himself, and he felt his scruples boil away, dissolving into steam.

Your panties. Left for him in the passenger seat like some salacious memento, a token to remind him of his depravity. Were you mocking him with them? 

He unconsciously rubbed the fabric in his fingers, finding the spot that sat flush with your cunt; still wet, cold in his hands, glistening with your syrup. He let out a defeated huff as he balled up the knickers in a tight fist, now powerless to the urge; raised your favour to his face and buried his nose in the bunched up fabric. 

The elasticated cotton was warm and soft on his skin, and he breathed in your scent deep and slow. It filled his chest and sinuses like smoke; your aroma was subtle, delectable, something utterly primal. The smell of sex and balsam, it made him grunt into the muffling fabric, made his thumping blood flood into his cock like the breaking of a damn.  

Might you taste as good as you smell, sweetheart? 

He scented you and his mouth watered like it was your cunt he was buried in, like the folds of the soft cotton brushing his skin were the petals of your pussy, and he wanted nothing more than to taste you. He grinded his palm against his length; rigid, twitching, straining in his trousers - tranced, he ripped at his button fly, shoving a hungry hand into his chequered boxers and taking his thick cock in a fist. 

His grip of his shaft was tight and hasty, he ran his fist up and down the length of it, rolling his foreskin over the sensitive head; to bring himself some reprieve, he told himself, to alleviate the ravening fury that pervaded him since you arrived at his doorstep. 

But the raucous thunder of an incoming truck knocked him quickly out of his delusion, and he swore at himself. Slammed the steering wheel with an exasperated palm. He resentfully tucked his throbbing cock back into his boxers, did up each of the labouring buttons of his fly, and adjusted himself in his seat as if he could ever find comfort. He stomped a frustrated boot into the accelerator and veered back onto the dirt road, faster than necessary, homeward bound once again. 

He stuffed your panties into his pocket, and rubbed his jaw with a rigid hand. Gritted his teeth for the entirety of the short drive home. 

Get a fucking grip.