#literally seem to have a cowboy problem

[inquisitorcastellanos]

Fuck it have some Rancher!Steve

[kisakis-boyfriend]

might i request reader fucking boothill after they take off his arms and legs? he's got mechanical limbs, so it won't really hurt and they can be put back on again, but like. the brainrot. he'd look so cute fr fr ♦️

Author's Note: You must also be a mind reader, because I have been plagued with all sorts of scenarios like this. Either with a robot/android character having their innards played with, or robot/android reader. — All of that to say; I went with a mechanic reader doing some maintenance on Boothill, and things get a lil spicy 👀 (ended up making the reader a bit southern too??)

Pairings: Boothill x male reader

Warnings: Male mechanic!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!Boothill, robo sex, robo genital functions, Boothill's goofy swearing, fingering, grinding, mild objectification

“What seems to be the problem?” You ask. The man on the other side of the desk rolls his shoulder back a few times, complaining of some joint issues.

“Alrighty, follow me. I'll take a look at'cha”

The cowboy follows you into an examination room. Various posters are taped to the walls — cheesy motivational posters and diagrams of machinery, mostly. He comments on them, saying that he appreciates a place like this, as opposed to the squeaky clean shops he'd been referred to previously. You chuckle and thank him for the compliment.

Some tools are pulled out and placed on a workbench next to the table. As you're prepping things, you tell your customer to remove any articles of clothing and have a seat on the table.

“Well shoot, at least take me to dinner first, darlin'!” He teases, smirking at you when you slowly turn your head around and playfully squint your eyes at his remark. Still, he does as he's told, and removes his cropped top, pants, hat. Literally everything is off, and he takes his seat, waiting patiently for you to begin.

“Lift this arm for me. Ok good. Now the other one.” You instruct him through a simple visual check. All four of his limbs seem to stutter through their movements, acting worse when he tries to rotate his legs.

“Ok... Um, I think this'll be an easy fix, but uh...”

“But what?”

“I... am going to need to detach all of your limbs to fix you–”

—

While your customer was clearly not used to a procedure like this one, he did a wonderful job of following your instructions so as not to damage anything while you're removing his appendages. All four of them detach smoothly, and you set them aside on a spare table until you'll need them again. With the heavy lifting out of the way, you're ready to go in for the delicate work of recalibrating his connecting joints.

“You know, you're probably one of my best customers.” you say as your fingers tug on one of the small wires buried deep within his hip socket, “Most people aren't too keen on doing it all at once. And even when it's two at a time, they squirm and babble anxiously.”

Boothill inhales sharply as the sensation of your hands literally inside of him stirs something within his belly. His lower lip is scored with the marks from his sharp teeth.

You tighten a few of the mechanisms in there, and he prays that you keep your eyes on your work, otherwise you'd see how stupid he must look as his eyelids droop and his mouth opens in a silent moan. It's taking all of his willpower to hold those sounds in.

“Geez, this one is crazy loose… do you uh, have regular maintenance done? Because you really sh-”

As you grip another wire and pull it, a compartment on Boothill's crotch suddenly opens up, revealing a fleshy, dripping hole.

If the cowboy still had legs at the moment, he'd be trying to close them and hide his arousal from you. Already, his breathing has become ragged and heavy, on the verge of making other, lewder sounds…

“Ah! O-oh I am so sorry–”

“Naw, s'okay…” Boothill slurs before the beginning of a moan, futilely attempting to hold composure that is clearly long gone by this point. He can't really buck his hips, but you can tell that that's what he's trying to do. You take the hint, and curiously move between his legs- or, what would be the area between his legs, anyway. He gives you permission immediately, almost begging to have this spot touched.

It's… strangely soft… humanlike in both appearance and touch. It's unclear whether this is human flesh or synthetic, but realistic flesh. Whatever it is, it has nerve endings of some variety, because Boothill whimpers as you prod around the edges of the opening. More liquid oozes out as you toy with him, gasping ooh's and aah's with a curious grin on your face. It's so much that you need to grab a couple towels and place them under his hips so it doesn't drip everywhere or seep into his open sockets. Seriously, it's like a waterfall after a couple minutes…

“You're sure this is ok? I'd hate to make you uncomfortable…”

The hole between his hips pulsates, opening up just slightly, as if it's inviting you inside.

“Darlin', please– you already had yer fingers inside of me today, just… put 'em back in.” The cowboy whines. And if a customer needs a little extra service, who are you to ignore them? Especially one as gorgeous as Boothill.

A rush of the sticky liquid comes pouring out when you push two fingers inside of his pretty hole.

“Fuck, not that I get around much, but I've never seen someone get so damn wet just from my fingers before. Is it always like this?”

A quiet 'mm-mm' is his response. His head flies to either side as your fingers sink in up to the knuckle, effortlessly, thanks to his built-in lube. His hair is hanging off the other end of the table, swooshing around every time Boothill flings his head around. It's so pretty, you really wish it was between your fingers right now…

For now, your focus comes back to the multitude of wet noises coming from Boothill's hole. The towels under him have long since soaked up everything spilling from his entrance.

“M-more… gimme more–!!” he moans, squeezing his eyes shut.

Removing your fingers, his hole squirts out a bit of liquid, and he resembles a sad puppy until he notices you removing your clothes. When your hard-on is more visible, Boothill drools at the sight.

You free your cock and give it a few pumps, licking your lips as your eyes flick between the cowboy's fleshy entrance and his sweaty face. He returns your gaze with his own obvious lust, lolling his tongue out once you touch him again.

It's incredibly soft and wet on your dick. You rub your length against the opening a few times, grinding against him and imagining how it will feel once you're inside–

“Shi- fuck! Mm that's tight, cowboy. Holy shit.” You exclaim, almost going cross-eyed from pleasure as his hole squeezes you so good. It doesn't take long for you to grab his hips and thrust like your life depends on it.

“Goddamn, yer like some hi-tech fleshlight! Oh yeah, take that dick! Take it, slut.” Mechanical wheezing is the only sound coming from Boothill now, unable to speak as you pound his hole mercilessly. In a moment of animalistic lust, you crawl up on the table and fuck him like a sex doll, curling over his body with your own and pistoning your hips, drilling into his gushing entrance as he squirts heavily.

You groan right into his ear, “M'gonna cum in you now- is that ok?” Boothill rapidly shakes his head, shivering at the way your breath hits his earlobe. Within seconds you're fucking your seed further into his squishy hole, ramming in so deep you make the cowboy's eyes roll completely back, and he exhales a shaky “Fork yeah~”. It's hard not to chuckle at the ridiculousness of what he said, but coming down from your high takes most of your energy — including the energy to realize that this man did just say "fork yeah" when you came inside of him……

His hole is still greedily sucking your juices in, and you can already feel yourself humping the glorified fleshlight that is your customer. Needless to say, this repair will take longer than you planned…

[fandomxo00]

Cowboy like me - Logan Howlett fanfiction

Request: Could I request farmer old logan x pregnant young reader (like the photos of him picking up flowers in the field) Yn was a snooty and spoiled city girl but she fell in love with Logan during her vacation and ran away with him. With a lot of breeding kink, lactance kink and DomLogan, subreader

Note: Not into lactation kink but I love the rest!! omg i love old logan/slash hugh with a beard, getting dirty dirty thoughts grrr, smut and fluff below! farmer!logan x citygirl!reader

You sat on the outside as the sun came over the one of the further hills of grass. Your feet on the ground, slowly rocking the porch swing as you breathed in that fresh breeze. You saw Logan from afar, he was working in the barn this morning as he did every morning. Then he'd be out in the field for some of the day, but he wasn't the main owner of the land and wasn't the only employee.

Logan knew that he slowly dying, and that continuing to fight would wound up in his death. That maybe he'd have a chance of living longer if he backed away. So, he went out to find an old friend, giving him a plot of land to build a house on. The labor was hard for him but nowhere near gunshot wounds. Logan focused on the animals he was raising, learning about going out into the field. He had taken to the farmer life literally and he thinks that farming was the reason he was alive right now. He'd even traded whiskey for coffee, only having a drink on occasion. There wasn't as much out of a need for it, there was less pain that he had to numb. Though the loneliness started creeping up on him in the last year or so, thinking of meeting someone to settle down with. Even in his old age, deep down he had always wanted a family.

Then his friend went out of town, wanting to set up their house as an air b'n'b whatever the fuck that meant. That's when he met you, the first day you stayed you called about the wifi password. He wasn't sure what it was, but he was going to come over to help look for the box since his neighbor wasn't replying to his texts. When he showed up and saw a b m w he was slightly confused, before slightly irritated at the idea of this being some obnoxious city girl.

When he opened the door all the thought was, "Pretty." Feel from his lips as his cheeks heated up like he was a boy with a crush. That's what he felt like when he wanted a shiver roll up your spine as you blushed.

"Actually it's Y/n." You laughed. "Are you---?"

"Logan, yeah." He nodded, as you stepped back and invited him in. Logan's eyes widened when he saw the bags placed all over the living room. "Did you need any help with those?"

"Nah, I got it." You shrugged.

"Anyway, gotta find the wifi box." Logan hummed, as you nodded.

You had offered him some tea afterwards, he had politely accepted, intrigue by you. The two of you got to talking and wound up having dinner together. It was slow in the very beginning, though you'd talked into the late night neither one of you made a move. Though both of you grew fond of each other in the small amount of time. Logan's heart was open right now, and it seemed like you wanted to take it. He'd come over the next day with a basket of eggs, milk, bread and jam.

"Did you bake this?" You asked, inviting him inside. Logan cleared his throat as he nodded, while walking inside. "The jam-."

"That was from the local market in town." Logan confirmed as you hummed.

"This was very sweet of you."

"No problem, doll." He grinned over at you, crossing his arms over his chest. Your eyes lingered on his, the feeling making his heart accelerates as he spoke to you. Logan's eyes trailing to your lips, before he asked you to go on a walk with him before dinner tonight. You'd come out in a beautiful white dress, and boots. He smirked over at you, "Maybe you should change your shoes."

"Oh, I'll be fine. I have to walk around the city all the time!" You smiled over at him, as you lightly waved your hand at him.

Though 15 mintues into the walk you hit a rather muddy spot, something Logan suspecting happening. "Um, can you pick me up?"

"What now?"

"I don't wanna do this." You pouted. "My shoes are all muddy and keep sticking to the ground. And M'so upset that my favorite boots were ruined just because i wanted to impr-." You felt a flush come over your body, whether it was visible or not, you felt heat on your chest, cheeks and the tips of your ears.

"I was gonna say yes the first time, princess."

"Why don't you call me that while you carry me back to your house." You suggested, pointing over at his house that was just across the way. Closer than your house was at this point. Logan's arm wrapped around your legs and waist, making you squeal as he picked you up, giggly, while looking up into his soft hazel eyes. Your hand naturally coming up to his cheek, feeling the wirey hair of his beard beneath your fingers. Logan's arms tightened around you as he walked out of the bed, the cowboy boots he was wearing making it far easier for him. He tried not to drop you at the way you were looking at him, nearly made his knees weak.

When you got back to his house, you slipped out of your boots before following Logan inside "M cold." Logan walked over to the couch, grabbing a blanket and he thought about tossing it over to you. But instead, he walked over to you, shaking the flannel blanket out before wrapping it around your shoulders. Your bright eyes looked up at him, making his jaw clench as he kept his hands on the bed of your blanket. You licked your lips before leaning forward to kiss him, his lips met yours in a feather-like kiss. Hesitancy in both of you, from a slow blossoming friendship that was real hiding the real romantic tension between the two of you. Your hands come to the blanket, pulling it tight as you lean into Logan's chest, his hands moving up to your head, flattening his hands against your hair as his lips interlocked with yours in slow thoughtful kisses.

"You do this to impress all the girls?" You asked, as he chuckled against your lips.

"Whatta mean?" He husked, looking down into your eyes as playful grin spread across your face.

"The whole basket, going on a walk, charming the pants off of girls."

"Haven't done this in a long while, doll. To be frank, I'm trying to settle down, live out the rest of my life in peace and-then you walk into my life all sweet eyes and strong-willed." His hands move to hold up the blanket around your hips as you let go to put your hands on his chest. You felt the hard muscle under your hands, your eyes gleaming up at him with want and adoration.

"You asking me to settle down with you?" You laughed.

"No, but I'm saying I want something serious."

"Well I could look forward to that." You grinned, your hands trailing over his strong stomach.

"How about." Logan started, starting to back you up until you hit the table with an 'oompf'. "You sit and be a good girl."

"W-what?" You blushed.

"Can I taste your sweet little pussy?" Logan hummed, dipping his head into your neck as his deep voice tumbled through you.

"Y-yeah." You murmured, as he pushed you back on the table, the blanket falling around your body as his hands came the hem of your pants. Logan tugged them down swiftly, along with your panties, before spreading your legs out. He got down on his knees as his hands came to your ass. Pulling your cunt to his face so he could dive his mouth into you. "Fuck." You gasped, your hand coming to his hair to balance yourself, the feeling of his rough beard rubbing against your inner folds made you slicker.

"Taste so fucking good." Logan grunted, spitting on your sex, his thumb coming up to rub at your clit. His lips found your inner thighs, his salt and pepper beard creating a little rash against your skin as he sucked marks into your skin. His fingers dipping into your entrance, your slick coding his fingers as he slowly pulled them out to see your translucent arousal covering his index and middle finger. "Can't wait to feel you wrapped around my cock." Your walls fluttered around his fingers as your hips relaxed in his palm, his hips rutted into the air. "You like that? Like imagining me inside you? Breeding your little cunt?"

"Logan-." You moaned, arching your back as the hand resting on your hip moved to cup over your breast.

"Sound so fucking pretty." Logan groaned the vibrations rumbling through you as you started feeling an orgasm well up in your stomach. The way his finger curled inside of you, rubbing the spongy part of you made you crumble while his tongue swirled around your clit. "Good girl." He hummed, his mouth coming down to your slit, licking up your come with a slurp before pulling back. Logan's large hand splayed out on your forehead, pushing back your hair roughly as your hand came to his belt. Your hands were quick before pushing his jeans back. Logan's hands came down to his briefs to pull them down before coming to lift your shirt over your head, not giving you time to see him. But then your eyes landed on his proud erection, his cock thick, veiny and pulsating. The idea of him filling you made your thighs clench together, you bet he'd hit every little place. Your hands reaching back to unclasp your bra as you fantaized about him.

The look in your eyes at Logan in a trance before he grabbed on to your roughly. Gasping as he filled you, before fucking you to the point where you saw stars. Claiming you with his words, his mouth on your skin and his cock bruising your cervix. "Gonna fill you with my cum baby, give you my babies." You moaned out at that, the sound long and wanton making him move faster and harder against you. "Fucking keep you fucked and bred."

"Yes-Logan fuck." You chanted.

tags: @jessjessmarvelandhp @chronicallybubbly @delicateholland @bubblegumholland @mega-kittyglitter-1

[divine-donna]

pink ensembles

pairing: miguel o’hara x gender neutral! reader

word count: 994 words

ao3 link: 💗💗💗

summary: the spider society is holding a very special barbie disco party!! miguel doesn’t have an appropriate outfit. thankfully, you have the perfect solution for your partner. and you’re awesome at dressing people!

for vibes: “dance the night” by dua lipa

notes: there are no detailed descriptions about the ensemble reader is wearing. it’s just something that’s all pink! anyways who’s excited for the barbie movie? i’m seeing it over oppenheimer.

“Wait, you’re not coming?”

“Well I didn’t say that. I said I wouldn’t dress up.”

“That’s as bad as saying you’re not coming! If you’re not going to dress up, why come at all!”

“(Y/N), that’s literally not what I meant.” The man was trying to enjoy his lunch in peace. “If I don’t come, it looks pretty bad. Especially as the person who founded the Spider Society.”

“And I just believe you should look the part.”

Miguel sets his arepa down. “I don’t think you get it. I’m not dressing up because my wardrobe...” He sighs. “You’ve literally been in my wardrobe. You steal my clothes all the time.”

It finally hit you. “Oh. I see. It’s because you lack color in your wardrobe. That’s not a problem!”

“What...What do you mean? I literally don’t have the clothes for it.”

“And I do! I think I have the perfect outfit too. Come on! We’re going back to my place!”

Miguel rushed to finish his lunch and even took the last remaining arepa with him. He’d rather die than let a good arepa go to waste (also because wasting food was something he was taught not to do). The two of you made it back to your place where you revealed your closet. It was definitely a closet from a Barbie dreamhouse playset. Your closet was even color coded and was very satisfying to look at. There were even shades of colors he didn’t think existed. You were going through your pink section, putting different shades of pink against his arm and even looking at the veins of his hand. “Perfect! The ensemble I have in mind is the right pink!” You were giddy about this and pulled out the set.

He wasn’t phased by the outfit but rather that you seemed to have it in his size. “How long have you had this?” He asks.

“For a while. I bought it in hopes of us doing matching outfits one day.”

“How did you get my size?”

“Lyla helped.”

He’s not the slightest bit annoyed. Instead, a small smile crosses his face and he walks over to you, giving you a gentle kiss on your lips. You kiss back and take in his presence. It was always nice to just be with him. “I’ll put this on.”

When Miguel comes out, you almost fell over. Because your partner was just...hot. So, so, so, so hot. The sleeveless top allowed you to see every single fiber of muscle as he moved his arms. His pecs were popping out from the neckline. The flared pants hugged his waist nicely, rising quite high, and framing his butt better than his Spider-suit. The white cowboy hat really topped everything off. But despite the beauty that was your partner in this outfit, you still felt he was missing something. Maybe something around his neck? That would be quite hot. “I look like a vaquero. Except without the equipment.” He says.

“I mean, it is Western inspired. And it was vaqueros that were the base for the Western cowboy.”

“We definitely did it better.” He takes a spin, watching the way the bottom of his pants flared out.

“You have white boots?”

“They’re the most colorful thing in my closet.”

“Great! They’ll go with the outfit. Now, you’re missing something.”

“Am I? I think it looks great.”

“You just need one more bit of pizzazz!” You rub your chin for a bit. “Lyla!”

“Here!” The AI appears besides Miguel’s shoulder. “I knew he would look good.”

“Lyla, do you think you can find the star patterned pink bandana?”

“Oh.” She winces. “It’s not here on this Earth. But it is available in these Earths and at these storefronts, from what I can gather.” Lyla expands the map of the multiverse.

“Well, we can start there. I’ll be back soon Miguel.”

Miguel was...very surprised to see you come back with a ton of scratches and bruises. But you were beaming brightly and judging by the bag in your hand, you had succeeded in your mission. He should’ve figured that you were willing to fight tooth and nail for the last fashion accessory for your partner. After all, what was better than getting to dress him up? “Geez! What happened (Y/N)!” Lyla cleans her glasses to make sure it wasn’t dirt blocking her vision.

“I fought people for it. Turns out everywhere in the multiverse is looking for this? It’s the biggest multiversal fashion trend.” You pull the box out and toss the bag, before removing the top of the box. “It’s like fresh!” You approach your partner with the bandana and he lets you tie it around his neck. When you step back, you feel your eyes water. “It’s perfect!”

“Awww. Should let (Y/N) dress you up more. They know what they’re doing.” Lyla looks at her watch. “Got to go. I’ll catch you two at the party!” The AI disappears.

“Okay now I have to get ready!”

“Take your time cariño.” His voice just purred softly. And you needed to prevent yourself from just melting at the way he spoke to you.

When you came out, your scratches and bruises were gone (mostly). And you had dressed up in your cutest pink ensemble. You looked like a Barbie doll! And honestly, Miguel was feeling like he was just a Ken. He looked nowhere near as good. “I like what you did beneath your eyes.” You had put small stones to complete your makeup look.

“Thank you! I’m happy you like it.”

“I always like what you do.”

“You’re going to make me collapse from how cheesy you are.”

“I’ll just catch you.” Miguel pulls you close to him and presses a gentle kiss on your cheek. He’s careful not to ruin the makeup.

“Shall we get going?”

“I don’t know. How about we just stay here for a little longer? No one arrives to a party on time anyways.”

[borathae]

“The story of how you convinced your awesome boyfriend to ride your face.”

Pairing: Cowboy!Taehyung x Mechanic!Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, Countrylife!AU, Slice of Life!AU, Smut

Warnings: subby!Taehyung, Dom!Reader, shameless flirting, Taehyung is a needy boyfriend, making out, needy fumbling, Tae’s hands are doing hot things, face riding, rimjob (m.receiving), handjob, allusions to oral for her, he’s a little sceptical at first but loves it in the end, they are happy & in love

Wordcount: 8.1k

a/n: This is Only Yesterday!Taehyung because I may have a lil crush on him. Also PtD!Taehyung is the sole inspiration for this ngngn 🥵 I also wanna state that I fucking love the OY universe, it's so comfy and makes me feel so snuggly hhahfhah. have fun besties 🤍

“This is stupid. I ain’t gon' do that”, Taehyung says, shaking his head.

The two of you were on a lovely date today. You took Taehyung out for dinner earlier, but you are long back at your place. Now cuddling in bed whilst listening to some music.

“Why not? It’s gonna be fun”, you say, wiggling your brows at him. 

“It’s 'cause, I don’t like nothin' close to my butt.”

“Really? So you don’t even wash yourself?” you tease, knowing very well that Taehyung was a very clean person. You just like to tease him.

“Ew no, I ain’t nasty, ‘course I wash my own ass. But I just don’t want nothin' stuck into it.”

“I'm not gonna stick anything into it”, you laugh, “I just want you riding my face.”

“Yeah, but that’s like weird. I'm no girl.”

You roll your eyes. 

“Oh come now, it’s 2023, let's not go there.”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that. I ain’t no sexist. I just feel weird about it”

“Why?”

“What you mean why? I just do. You know how the guys gon' look at me when they find out I sat on my girl's face? They gon' laugh at me.”

“Okay, I hear you. I'm sorry I brought it up. You obviously don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with”, you assure him and peck his cheek. 

“Thanks, you’re really sweet. It means a lot”, he says, reaching out to pinch your own. 

“Just so you know though. The guys would never find out. I don’t talk to them about the sex we have.”

“Good you don’t”, he laughs, “that'd be hella weird if you did.”

“Yeah, right”, you agree, laughing right with him. 

Taehyung rolls over and cages in your head between his elbows.

“What?” you stop laughing.

“Nothin’, I just like listenin’ to you laugh”, he says, kissing you deeply afterwards.

“Mhm babe”, you mumble into him, making sure that he won’t leave your lips for the rest of the night by hooking your arms behind his head.

It was a hard day at the garage today. The sun was sweltering and as a result, the heat was almost unbearable. You spent most of your day under a car, sweating your ass off and trying to fix a problem which didn’t seem to want to reveal itself. It turned out to be a faulty tie rod. You proceeded to spend the other half of your shift replacing it. 

“Hello”, a familiar voice draws you out from under the car.

“Hey there babe, whatcha doin' here?” you greet your boyfriend, standing up for the first time in hours. You groan, stretching out your back, “goddamn, my back is fucked.”

Taehyung acts instantly. He gets behind you and gives your shoulders a massage. 

“Wow, thanks babe”, you say. 

“You sweatin' so much”, Taehyung says. 

“Yeah, it’s so hot. I literally can’t stand the heat.”

“Yeah today’s boilin'. We had to get the cows outside too 'cause they'd died of a heat stroke inside. Now they all chillin' by the stream.”

“That sounds like a good life. Just chilling by the stream, in the shadow and with no hot car above you.”

“Yeah, I figure. Wanna sit in the shadow for some?”

“Sure, we can do that.”

You have a small umbrella behind your garage. There was a pair of plastic chairs and a small matching table underneath it. Taehyung drags you on top of his lap, earning himself a loud whine from you. 

“You're literally kidding. I'm so hot.”

“You gon' stay here”, he wraps his arms around you.

“Tae, I’m so sweaty.”

“I don’t care, I’m sweaty too. I just came from the fields. That’s why I’m dressed like that.”

Red sturdy cotton from top to bottom and with a brown cowboy hat perched atop of his head. He also has his boots on and wears a bandana around his wrist. 

“You look handsome”, you tell him, “I look like shit though.”

Grey work suit opened and pulled down to your hips. Your white tanktop is soaked in sweat and covered in black grease stains. Just as are your arms and some parts of your face. 

“You look sexy, I’m into it.”

You roll your eyes at him fondly. 

“Course you are.”

Taehyung smirks lazily and lets his hands slip to the inside of your thighs. 

“No. Behave.”

“Why not? I've not seen you in so long. I'm lonely.”

“We saw each other last night. You had breakfast at my place.”

“Yeah, that’s ages ago. Miss you like crazy, babe”, he says and puckers his lips for a quick kiss.

“Behave, Tae”, you warn in a chuckle.

“Why?” he whines. 

“Cause I'm coming over later anyways. Don’t taint my reputation.”

Taehyung chuckles, dancing his hands closer to your middle. 

“Tae”, you slap them away gently, “keep your grimy fingers to yourself.”

“They ain't grimy. I washed them”, he whines, retreating them and placing them on your hips instead. 

“You know how I meant it. You’re way too horny.”

He chuckles and kisses your shoulder. Despite all the grease and sweat and dirt, he kisses your shoulder. And he loves doing it.

“I can't help it, it’s your fault ‘cause you’re so hot.”

You turn on his lap, placing your feet down with a loud stomp before letting yourself fall down right on his cock. He moans at that, widening his eyes in surprise. 

“So you think I’m hot?”

“Goddamn babe, you gon' make me hard.”

“Behave.”

“It's kinda hard when you sittin’ on my cock.”

“Oh? My bad, sorry”, you fake your guilt, slipping down his lap all to his dismay, “better?”

“Don't know, now I want you ridin’ me.”

You give his chest a gentle slap. 

“Hush, we're in public.” 

“Fuck babe, don’t you wanna leave early? Wanna have you right now”, Taehyung whines, tugging at your hips needily. 

“No, I have to finish the repairs. The customer is gonna pick up the car tomorrow and I need to finish it before that.”

“Tell your employees to do it.”

“No, I'm not gonna give my employees more work just ‘cause you’re horny.”

“That's unfair.”

“No, it’s not. I'm a fair boss.”

“No, it’s unfair to me.”

You roll your eyes.

“I'll ride you in a few hours.”

“Do it now.”

“No. Why are you so horny today?” 

“Cause I miss you and I was thinkin' about what we talked about.”

“What do you mean?”

“The thing about the rimjob.”

“Oh that. I thought the topic was off the table.”

“Yeah, I thought ‘bout it some more and maybe I ain't that against it anymore.”

“You watched porn about it, didn’t you?”

He flusters just slightly.

“Don't judge me.”

“I'm not, you can watch whatever you want”, you nudge his chest, “so you watched porn about it. Liked it?”

“Yeah well, maybe, I don’t know. I can’t say it didn’t make me hard.”

You chuckle.

“Don't laugh, I ain't proud of it.”

“Tae, it's totally fine. I’m the one who brought it up, it should be obvious that I'm into it.”

“Okay, you right about that. Sorry, I’m just weird about it.”

“No, you’re alright. Discovering new things about yourself can be scary.”

He nods his head. 

“So you wanna try it tonight?” you ask him.

“Don't know about tonight, I still gotta think more about it.”

“Alright, then we'll do something else tonight.”

“Yeah, you ride me and I make you cum.”

You laugh.

“Alright, I ride you and you make me cum. Twice.”

He smirks lazily, giving your hips a soft squeeze, “deal.”

“Good. Deal”, you say and give his chest a soft slap, “break's over, I've got a car to fix.”

You get up from his lap. 

“Yeah, I gotta go too. I just came here for a quick talk. I gotta go back to the fields again.” 

“Alright then, I’ll come around at seven.”

“Yeah, I’ll be waitin’. Oh yeah and don’t eat somethin’, Seokjin’s cookin’ dinner tonight.” 

“Ooh nice, now I'm even more excited.”

Taehyung leaves after giving you a loving smooch on the lips and a playful spank on your butt. And you continue your task of fixing the car. 

You ride Taehyung that night and it leaves the both of you entirely blissed-out. You leave early the next day, letting him sleep. And Taehyung sends you a sweet text once he wakes up, thanking you for last night.

You met Taehyung around a year ago. You couldn’t stand him at first. He wasn’t rude or gave you any other reasons for why you should have hated him, but you still did. You hated a lot of people back then. Especially men. Now stay with this story, we are getting there. You hated them because your environment quite frankly made you hate them. Your dad was a drunk, your grandfather was an abuser and your cousins were all terrible husbands. Your job also regularly showed you just how etched the old school sexism was in your town's men. Some would leave with their faulty cars because “a woman could never find the issue, let alone fix it properly”, some would ask if “Missy needs to take care of the garage for the day cause the hubby got drunk last night”, some would just straight up ask where the real boss – they meant your husband – was, despite your garage carrying your name and your name only. You were unmarried, if one may add this little fact. Now, it was a very small town. Not more than a thousand people, surrounded by big fields and with roads that weren’t the best for a car's health. There was another village close by. Up in the mountains and with not more than two hundred people. But your garage was the only garage in this valley. It still didn’t excuse the passionate sexism so many people showed.

Taehyung visited your garage about a year ago with his brothers Seokjin and Namjoon. Their truck had broken down and with the help of their oxen, they towed it all the way from their farm to your garage. It was quite the peculiar image indeed.

There were many things wrong with their truck. Brittle breaks, a broken oil filter which resulted in motor issues and they hadn’t cleaned out their aircon in years either. 

This still wasn’t the reason why you couldn’t stand Taehyung at first however. It was because he was playful and flirty and talked to you with a sort of childish carelessness and not once did he question why a single woman was the boss of a garage. On the contrary, he found it pretty awesome that you were. And this enraged you, because as much as you tried to find another reason for “why all men sucked”, you couldn’t find one thing about him that sucked. Now, his brothers were awesome too, but his brothers were both married already, so of course you weren't gonna mess with them. But Taehyung was single and very obviously interested in you. 

He began visiting your garage even long after you fixed their truck. At first he came with canting questions about cars and trucks and “his brothers sent him to get something” but as weeks turned into a month, he stopped pretending to visit you professionally. And one day he brought flowers. One day he came to your garage, dressed in his best clothes, with flowers in his hands and a shy grin on his lips and then he asked you for a date. And you pretended not to have time at first until Taehyung gave you a pout and you pretended to magically make space for him in your schedule. 

And the rest is history. He visited you with flowers or chocolates or other cute presents, you went on more and more dates, you shared your first kiss, you asked him to be your boyfriend and Taehyung said yes. 

Now you are here. One year later, terribly in love with each other and happier than ever. Taehyung is truly the best boyfriend ever. He is actually such an awesome boyfriend that you managed to shed your sometimes misplaced hatred against men and now changed it to “some men suck, not because they’re men but because society made it easier for them to be shitty people without consequences”. It was quite the big step for you, but Taehyung made it easy to do.

Taehyung visits your garage on Tuesday again. Five days after you rode him in his childhood bedroom with your hands around his throat.

“Hey babe”, he greets you.

You turn, “oh? Hey there handsome stranger, what brings you here?”

“We made bread today, I got you some”, he says, lifting a little basket filled with two loaves of bread into your vision, “got you some cheese to go with it.”

“That's so sweet, thank you so much Tae. You guys' bread's always so good”, you accept the gift with a fluttering heart. 

“You gon' like that one 'cause it's got a thick crust.”

“Just how I like it. You know me so well.”

“Yeah, gotta be best boyfriend of the year”, he says and grins cutely, earning himself a sneaky little kiss.

You feel scandalous doing it because you've got customers next to you, but Taehyung is too cute not to kiss. 

He flusters accordingly, knees buckling and body drawing closer to you instinctively while his gaze becomes oh so dreamy. 

“You're already the best boyfriend of the century”, you say, soothing over the spot you kissed before pulling away shyly.

“Hehe”, he lets out, grin growing.

“But what brings you here?”

“I wanted to see you”, he says.

“Aren't you coming over later?”

“I am, just wanted to tell you that I've been lookin' forward to it the entire day.”

“Me too. You're so cute.”

Taehyung steps closer, lowering his lips to your ear. The gesture speeds up your heart tremendously. 

“I made a decision”, he whispers seductively, “I'm down.”

You sneak a scared glance at the customers. They haven’t heard what Taehyung said, still busy looking at the newest model of truck they plan on buying. 

“Tae goddamn, you're making my knees weak”, you whisper, knees truly wobbling. 

He lets out a teasing chuckle, keeping his voice extra low for it. 

“I can't wait, babe. I'm gon' ride your face like a pony.”

You snort, rolling your eyes despite your stomach doing a little excited flip. He may be silly, but he is still terribly hot whilst being so. 

He steps back afterwards, pecking your heated cheek. 

“I'll see you later, love. Can't wait”, he says, having the audacity to turn and leave you in your boiling soup of horniness. 

You won’t be able to properly concentrate for the rest of the day, mind solely focused on what Taehyung told you. 

So he is actually going to ride your face.

You live in the village above a ramen place. The owners are an elderly couple, who were nice enough to give you their spare rooms upstairs. You wanted to pay rent, but they refuse to accept your money whenever you offer, saying that family doesn’t need to pay. They lived next doors in a little two story house with a small, walled garden. Sometimes Misses Kang brings over leftover ramen. Mister Kang regularly brings over persimmons from their persimmon tree. Maybe regularly was too weak of a description. You basically are able to eat fresh persimmons daily during their season as each morning, you open your door to Mister Kang grinning at you with his two front teeth missing and a melodic “got more persimmons, granddaughter” on his lips.

You weren’t their granddaughter, but you think that they see you as such. Misses Kang once told you that they had a granddaughter, born the same year as you, but that she died in an accident in the mill she worked at. You sometimes catch her calling you by their granddaughter’s name before she catches herself and then laughs about it with embarrassed melancholy in her dark brown eyes. You never correct her, you simply give her a smile and then hold her hands to laugh right with her.

You think that you might love them. You never really knew your grandparents as they both died when you were around five, but if they were still alive, they would be around the age of the Kangs. So as much as they see you as their granddaughter, you see them as your grandparents and that was a very lovely thing to do.

Your place was very homely. It stretched over the entire space of the downstairs restaurant with windows on each side of the building so you always had something pretty to look out at. From the east windows you could watch the sun rise behind the high mountains in the distance. From the west windows you could watch it set behind the forest covered hills. From the south windows you had view of the village and from the north windows you could spot the mountain village in the far, far distance. Taehyung always says that he plans on taking you there one day because of its amazing teashop, but he didn’t get to do that yet.

A set of dark wooden stairs leads up to a balcony and your front door. You keep your herbs and tomato plants on the balcony as it was south facing and therefore perfect for growing your food. You plan on trying out bell peppers next season. Taehyung promised to give you some of their seeds for it and also to help you with any horticultural struggle you face.

Speaking of Taehyung. You have just managed to finish lighting all your candles in your living room when you can hear his distinct knock on your front door. He always knocks in a rhythm. It changes between two patterns, depending on what he feels like that day. He used the second pattern tonight. Two slow knocks followed by two fast ones.

You check yourself in the mirror one last time, fixing the creases in your dress and the mess in your hair, before hurrying to open the door. You are so excited.

Taehyung, like most of the time, is leaning against the railing of the balcony, posing all nonchalantly. He is wearing his favourite blue jeans tonight with a matching shirt and his fanciest cowboy hat. He tips it as a greeting, giving you a playful, lopsided smirk.

“Good evenin’ me lady”, he greets you.

“Good evening, handsome cowboy”, you greet him, stepping out of the doorframe, “come in. Did you get here on Bruno?" 

“Yup, he's parked outside”, Taehyung says and greets you with a kiss.

“That's nice. Did you have a good ride?”

“Yup. But not as good as I'm gon' have one later, am I right?” he flirts as takes off his boots, placing them on the bamboo shoe rack you built yourself.

He makes you laugh, “hopefully, yeah.”

“I picked this for you”, he says, presenting you a bouquet of meadow flowers. He hid it behind his back pocket before.

“They are so pretty, thank you so much”, you accept it with a fluttering heart, “I gotta put them in water before they weld. Get comfy in the meantime.”

You store your vases in a cabinet in the living room. Your parents gave it to you, told you that it was already two hundred years old and that you will take great care of it. You love it a lot. It really compliments the rest of your wooden furniture.

“I’m thinking that we could eat kimchi stew for dinner. I still gotta use up all my old one, it’s really sour already”, you tell Taehyung as you make your way to your kitchen.

It was separated from your living room by a half wall. The hanging cabinets formed the other part of the wall, leaving you with a big enough window so that you could comfortably look at Taehyung as you work to fill the vase with water. Worktops were on one side of the half wall while a spacious breakfast bar was on the other side. You never use it, because you consume most of your meals in front of the TV on your comfortable couch.

“Sounds good, I didn’t eat yet”, Taehyung answers you, standing by the window like he always does when he comes over. With his hands on his hips and his tummy just slightly sticking out as he arches his back.

“You don’t mind that I didn’t cook it yet, do you? I just didn’t know how soon you wanna fuck, so I waited with the food.”

Taehyung keeps on staring outside.

“Tae?” you try.

“Mhm?” Taehyung looks over his shoulder.

“I just said that I hope you don’t mind I didn’t cook yet ‘cause I didn’t know if you wanted to fuck already.”

“Oh”, he turns to you then struts to the couch to sit down, “no, it’s fine. I ain’t hungry yet. I’m nervous”, he confesses and laughs shyly.

“You are? Because of the rimjob?”

“Yeah”, Taehyung nods his head.

You put the flowers in the vase and place it on the breakfast bar, turning it in a way so that you could see the prettiest part of the bouquet from the sofa. Then you strut to Taehyung, letting yourself plop down on the sofa next to him.

“You know we don’t have to do it, if you changed your mind again”, you tell him, caressing his thigh.

“No, I’m nervous ‘cause I really wanna do it”, he says, taking off his hat to play with his hair nervously, “I feel like an idiot”, he confesses in a breathy laugh.

“Why?”

“Cause I talked all big balls at the garage and now I’m nervous. I’m big mouthed, nothin’ more.”

“It’s fine, I get it. We can chill for a bit if you want”, you suggest.

“Yeah, I like that” he says, letting himself fall down on your sofa. He throws his legs on your lap, relaxing with a loud sigh. He grunts and then hums in content as he rubs his own tummy.

“Pff”, you scoff, “you and your dad noises all the time.”

Taehyung peels his left eye open, “those ain’t dad noises. They’re uncle noises.”

You chuckle, running your hands up and down his shins mindlessly.

“How’s Jihyo doing? Is she still teething?” you ask him.

“Yeah. She’s cryin’ so much”, Taehyung says, opening his right eye too in order to look at you as you talk, “Namjoon hyung’s been tryin’ to calm her down all day but she keeps cryin’. I’m kinda glad to be here now, not only ‘cause I can see you, but to get away from the baby. It’s so noisy at home.”

“That sucks. I get your struggle. I bet it must be so uncomfortable for her though.”

“Yeah probably. Poor girl, must be so confused why teeth keep showin' up in her mouth”, he says and then with the help of his abs sits up. He pecks your cheek, making you turn your head to him. A kiss on your lips follows, the kind which leaves a flutter in your tummy.

“Why did you do that?” you ask in a whisper.

“Cause you’re so pretty”, he whispers, stubbing your cheek with his nose.

“You’re such a flirt.”

Taehyung chuckles softly, eyes flitting to your lips.

“Can we make out?” he asks.

“I really want that, yeah”, you answer him.

“Mhm honey, you’re so hot”, he rasps, hooking his fingers behind your head to pull you into a kiss.

The problem with not sharing a place is just how incredibly needy you get for each other. You rarely go out for dates and if you do, you always have to do it after a quick fuck at one of your places. You joked about it with him already. Your dates always start with sex before anything else can happen. You blame it on all the shameless flirting the two of you do and all the days spend separated. You can’t help it. Taehyung is the hottest man alive and his body is so fucking addicting. When you know that you can spend the rest of the day with him, you get so horny and needy for him that you want him first and only then crave other date activities.

And Taehyung feels the same. He is certain that if you and him didn’t start off your dates by fucking, he would actually die of blue balls during the date.

Taehyung falls back on the sofa, pulling you with him. You fall atop his chest, elbows caging in his head and lips dancing with his’. He sighs because of it and you answer him with a soft moan.

You were actually his first. He never put great importance in the whole concept of virginity like all those big town people do. He is convinced that virginity is nothing but a city trend, because he never thought it to be important. He knew that he wanted to be intimate with the right woman, no matter when she came around, and he saw no shame in waiting for her. He found her in you by the young age of thirty one and now he can’t stop wanting you over and over and over again. Sex is so fucking amazing when it’s with the right person. Taehyung is convinced of it.

“How come you’re already kinda hard?” you break the kiss to ask him in a chuckle.

“Cause I’ve been horny for you all day”, he says and pouts, “stop teasin’, I can’t help it.”

You snicker, “you’re cute”, you say, pecking his lips until he stops pouting and kisses you back properly.

He wraps his legs around your hips, closing his arms around you in a way so that his chest is snug against yours. Like this you can grind against him, humping him with needy rolls of your hips. 

Taehyung breaks the kiss in a breathy chuckle. 

“You gon' make me cum if you do that”, he says, having to moan softly as his hips chase the friction. 

“Yeah? Wanna go to the bedroom?”

“Yeah, want that.”

“Let’s go.”

No time is wasted between you and him. You are needy for each other and that means you have to act quick. You make out on your way to the bedroom. Lips dance with each other desperately while your hands fumble with the other’s clothes. His shirt leaves his torso in the hallway. Your dress follows seconds later. 

Taehyung cradles your tits instantly, massaging them through the fabric of your bra. He makes you moan because of it and for your hands to work even quicker. You tug his white tanktop out of his jeans, pulling it up his torso. 

The kiss breaks so you could slip it over his head. Taehyung even lifts his arms for you, chuckling shyly when you rough up his hair. 

“You good?” you ask him.

“Yeah, I'm good”, he says, falling back into the kiss as your fingers begin running through his hair. He touches your lower back, but soon feels up your ass. He is too obsessed with it not to steal a touch. You don’t mind. On the contrary, you like it. Taehyung’s fingers have been on every single inch of your body and you goddamn love how they feel. He is so unapologetic in his touches, so confident and with the right amount of cockiness to really get you going. Obviously he never does new stuff without asking first, but he also knows when it is safe to do stuff without asking as he is incredible good at listening to your cues. 

Just like right now, when you press him against your dresser, placing your knee on the surface to cage him in. Your ass sticks out that way, allowing Taehyung to pull your panties to the side and run his fingers along your middle. Your pussy and rim. He knows just where to touch to make you sigh. 

“You're wet", he mumbles into the kiss.

“Mhm, wet for you”, you tell him, kissing him with tongue. 

Taehyung moans, parting his lips to allow you access. You are so good at tongue kisses. Taehyung thought the concept was weird at first. Until you kissed him with tongue for the first time. That’s when he finally understood and, quite frankly, became obsessed. He tugs you closer, trying his hardest to tilt your hips in a way that would allow him better access to your clit. 

You stumble because of it, crashing into the dresser with him and knocking over your candle. It was turned off. Thankfully. 

“Careful there, cowboy”, you laugh, slamming your foot down to find support again.

“Sorry, my bad”, Taehyung chuckles, giving you a sheepish look, “you okay?”

“Mhm, I am”, you say, rubbing your hand up and down his chest, “my candle not that much.”

Taehyung fixes it with a blush, swaying his shoulders from side to side. He glances at you.

“Sorry?” he mumbles shyly, widening his eyes cutely.

“Com'ere, you sweetheart”, you say, dragging him to your bed by his belt. 

Taehyung follows with wobbly knees, feeling then wobble even more when you drag him atop your lap. You slam your hands onto his round buttocks, forcing him to yelp it surprise.

“Babe”, he gasps, widening his eyes, “whatcha doin'?”

You snicker, wiggling your brows. 

“You like it?” you coo, kneading his plump flesh.

“I can't say I hate it”, he says, laughing breathily. He shakes his head, “you been doin' things to me, babe”, he murmurs. 

“Yeah?” you smirk, looking at his lips, “come and kiss me.”

Taehyung claims your lips instantly, arms closing around you and naked chest melting with yours. He moans, squirming on your lap.

He hasn't sat in your lap very often before. Maybe once or twice while you were in the heat of the moment, but never actively. You? You are sitting on his lap all the time, everywhere and anywhere. Taehyung not so much. He thinks it’s weird. Not because he actually thinks that it is, but because he is always scared to be called mean names. You always tell him that the people who call him names aren’t worthy of his attention either way, but you won’t pressure him. 

It makes it feel all the more special tonight. He is comfortably heavy on your lap and to your surprise, he is better at grinding against you as you thought he would be. Also, his butt feels extra plump and big in that position. You can’t stop feeling it up. 

Taehyung has the sexiest ass in the universe. It was actually one of the first features you noticed about him. Next to his smile and pretty eyes. His butt always looks so good in jeans and all those tight riding pants he wears. You like holding it whenever he gives it to you missionary and whenever he takes a shower at your place, you can’t help but jump right in there with him just so you can feel up his ass. 

Truly, with your obsession for his behind, it was only a matter of time that you'd suggest butt stuff. You know that you won’t get Taehyung to agree to anything going up his butt for a long time, but you don’t mind. You are already content with the aspect of getting to eat him out. 

You break the kiss, panting heavily.

“I fucking want you”, you rasp, trying and failing to slip your hands into his jeans. They’re just way too tight.

“You do?”

“Yeah, want you riding my face like you’re riding my thighs.”

Taehyung flusters, lowering his eyes.

“Unless, you changed your mind?” you make sure. 

“No uhm, no”, he shakes his head, “man, I’m nervous. Phew”, he confesses and laughs breathily, “I think my heart's gon' give up.”

“That's alright. If you still need time, I can give it to you.”

“No, I just. I want", he glances at you shyly, gnawing on his lower lip.

“Go ahead”, you encourage him.

“Can I use yo' shower? I wanna be smellin' good down there.”

 “Of course, go ahead. You know where everything is?”

“Yeah, been takin' too many showers here”, he jokes, getting up from your lap to hurry to your bathroom, “I'll be back soon.”

“Take your time, babe.”

You decide to add a little bit of romance to the bedroom in the time he freshens up. You light the candles, careful not to knock them over again, and fluff up your sheets so they look inviting. Then you turn on Taehyung’s favourite artist and get onto bed, resting in a sexy pose for when he comes back. 

Taehyung does so after fifteen minutes and with a towel wrapped around his hips and his skin smelling like your rose shower gel. 

He stops, looking at you with widened eyes. 

“Hello there sexy, you’re back", you greet him, wiggling your brows.

“The room's lookin' so romantic”, he gasps, “babe, you look so hot”, he exclaims, climbing onto bed, “babe, you been doin’ so much”, he giggles.

“I thought I’d set the mood”, you explain, rolling onto your back as Taehyung climbs on top of you. He plops down on your crotch, hands resting on each side of your head. 

“You're spoilin' me, I’m so lucky”, he says with the biggest heart eyes.

“No, I'm lucky. You’re so sexy with your towel”, you say, tugging on it playfully. 

Taehyung draws closer, “wanna kiss you.”

“Do it.”

You fall back into the needy tongue kiss, continuing where you left off, except that Taehyung wears significantly less clothing and his fingers are kneading your tits. Your own are groping his thighs and butt, forcing the towel to unravel more and more. Taehyung doesn’t mind, moaning and mewling into your mouth as his body falls back into the pleasure. 

The shower made his cock go down again. Quite frankly, the act of cleaning out his butt and making sure he was squeaky clean back there felt too embarrassing to him to stay hard. He didn’t mind doing all this stuff, because you always do it for him when you’re doing butt stuff, but it was still foreign to him and therefore a little scary. Taehyung thought that it wasn’t that bad in the end and that he could imagine doing it again if he ends up liking the rimjob. 

He likes that you turn him on again. All it takes are your touches and kisses to get his cock hard again. 

He breaks the kiss, moaning your name and dragging his parted lips down your neck. Like this, his back arches naturally, finally giving you the opportunity to rip off his towel. It falls onto the floor and becomes forgotten. 

Taehyung moans, wiggling his hips. He sucks on your skin, eliciting sighs of his name. Your fingers grasp his buttocks, kneading and massaging them so eagerly that Taehyung feels the sensation on his rim. It is so peculiar to him, because you've groped him like this a hundred times before and yet this is the first time where he actively takes in on how this makes his ass feel. And it feels really good. Electric and just gentle enough that Taehyung craves more.

“I'm horny”, he confesses, chasing your touch. 

“You are?”

“Yeah”, he whispers. 

“Horny enough to hop on there?”

“Maybe? Don’t laugh if I move weird.”

“I would never”, you promise him.

“Yeah then, uhm”, Taehyung lifts his head, “wanna, uh, try?” 

“That sounds like a plan to me. Hop on there, cowboy”, you say, spanking his butt gently. 

Taehyung scrambles to his knees and begins to climbs on top of you, mumbling every step under his breath and laughing nervously throughout the whole process. He chooses the position you always choose when you ride his face. With his butt facing you and his head facing your toes. He places his hands on your thighs and looks over his shoulder.

“Don’t look there”, he whines when he realises that you are gazing at his ass.

Your eyes flit up, “why not?” you laugh fondly, “you’ve got a nice ass.”

“Yeah but”, he can’t find an excuse, “sorry, I’m weird ‘bout it.”

“It’s alright”, you give him a reassuring smile, “wanna scoot up a little and make it easier for me?”

“Uh yeah”, Taehyung follows hesitantly, widening his eyes nervously.

“There we go, so sexy”, you murmur under your breath, grabbing his buttocks to spread them.

“Shit, I can’t look”, he gets out, turning his head away and squeezing his eyes shut. It’s going to happen soon. Taehyung holds his breath in preparation. He can’t pull back now. It’s going to happen one way or the other. Fuck, his heart’s going to give up on him.

“So sexy, babe. You’re so sexy”, you rasp and stick your tongue out, dragging it over his rim.

“Woah”, he gasps, flinching away. Despite his attempts of not looking, he still ends up glancing over his shoulders, lips parted in shock and brows lifted.

That felt so warm and wet. Taehyung stills feels the effects it had on him.

Your eyes meet.

“How’s that? Was that really that bad?” you tease him a little, caressing his tense buttocks.

He shakes his head.

“Yeah? Wanna give me more?”

Taehyung shimmies back up and sticks his ass out, eyes glued to your face. Your eyes flutter closed and a second later Taehyung feels wet warmth drag itself over his rim. He widens his eyes, mouth falling open in shock. Another time. You use the flat of your tongue for it, grinding it against his hole.

“You gotta be shittin’ me”, he gets out and laughs shakily.

Your eyes open, pinning him down with just a look. He gulps, feeling the next lick so intensely that he has to moan. He moans again when you purr against him and flick your tongue over his rim. You lift him off of you and to Taehyung’s surprise, he is really sad that you did. It felt so good. Taehyung wants more of it. 

“Like it?” you ask him.

“Yeah”, he rasps, “can you do it again?” he asks shyly, moving his butt closer to you.

“Mhm babe”, you purr, pushing him back down onto your face.

Now encouraged by his words, you truly show him what you can do. There is no reason for you to hold back anymore. Taehyung’s into it and that means you want to show him what he missed. You keep his hips pinned down, using your entire head to grind your tongue against his hole and kneading his buttocks with hungry fingers.

“Fuck”, Taehyung presses out, rolling his head to the front and dropping it. He squeezes your thighs, arching his back instinctively. He moans, closing his eyes as his body falls into the pleasure. He has to give it to you. You once again, did it. Taehyung was so sceptical of the entire situation. How could a guy enjoy getting his hole licked? It sounded impossible to him. He is happy that he was wrong, because what you are doing feels really good. Your tongue is so warm and wet and soft, showing him just how sensitive his backside actually was. Oh, he is so happy that he was wrong.

“Don’t wanna stop”, he sighs, wiggling his hips which results in his hole grinding over your tongue even better. So he does it again, moaning your name as warm pleasure soaks his senses. He feels especially warm between his legs and his inner thighs. He can’t explain it. It starts on his hole and spreads down his thighs, threatening to go further and further. Taehyung wants it to happen, scrunching up his nose in bliss. “Don't wanna stop”, he confesses in a barely there whisper, “don’t stop….”

You slip off of him for some air, eyes running over his hole. It’s all wet from your spit, looking so pretty up close. All soft and relaxed. You have to squeeze your thighs together at the view. It’s a true shame that it took you so long to see it. You missed out on the sexiest view ever. 

“How’s it looking?” you check up on him, aching for another taste. You crave him with every fiber of your body.

“Want it again”, Taehyung sounds out of breath and needy, wiggling his hips in a silent plea for more.

“You’re so hot, Tae”, you rasp, pulling him back. You moan into him, licking and sucking his hole hungrily. He tastes so good. You seriously can’t get enough of him. You dreamt of this moment for so long. You always knew that Taehyung would be a natural at riding your face. After all, this man rides horses like no other. It would have been surprising if he wasn’t good at taking a little ride on your face. And he is. Oh he is. 

You moan happily, wrapping your arms around his waist. You need to be suffocated by him. He smells so good, tastes so goddamn heavenly.

“You’re crazy, fuck”, Taehyung groans, squeezing his thighs together as best as possible. He doesn’t want to suffocate you, scared that he is way too heavy, but you give him no other choice. You have him hostage and all he is supposed to do is take the pleasure you give him. Taehyung must admit, it was a pretty easy task to do.

You hum in agreement, wiggling your tongue into his hole. Just a little, but Taehyung still shudders in reaction, voice pitching in pleasure. Fuck, he sounds so sexy. You want him crumbling on your face. It’s all you need.

You slip your hand to his cock, wrapping your fingers around him to jerk it off quickly.

“Ah! ___!” Taehyung moans loudly, throwing his head back, thighs trembling like crazy and cock throbbing in your hand. He was so concentrated on how your tongue makes him feel that he completely forgot about his cock and now that you are tugging on it vigorously, he swears that he will actually pass out.

He scratches up your thighs, grabbing your hips instead. He can barely find any strength in his fingers, shaking as he tries to squeeze you.

“Ah! Ah god! Ah!” his voice is loud, leaving him instinctively. You’ve reduced his instincts down to shaking and moaning for you. There is nothing else his body could do right now. It feels so goddamn good to him.

Your grip around his cock tightens each time you reach his tip, sending jolts of pleasure through his veins each time that happens. And whenever you do, your tongue on his hole feels even more unbearable. You aren’t going deep, just a little past the tip, but that’s enough already for Taehyung to feel completely and utterly fucked. 

Fucked.

Taehyung gasps for air.

Fucked by tongue. 

Taehyung moans, clenching around you. 

“What are you doin' to me?” he somehow manages to produce, “oh god, what…you…doin' to me?”

You growl, spilling tears. He is so into this. You can’t believe your luck. This is the best day of your life. You want to treat him so fucking right.

You try to wiggle your tongue deeper, fucking it in and out of him with nods of your head. Your fingers glide over his cock quickly, spoiling him to the best pleasure in existence.

Taehyung is burning up, chasing the sensations with needy movements of his hips. You moan deliciously because of it, presenting your tongue to him so he could fuck himself on it. And he takes it gladly, riding your face as if he was made to do so all while his cock spills his desperation all over your fingers.

This is seriously the best day of your life. You spill more tears, moaning happily. This is the best day ever. The fucking best.

“I’m close”, he confesses, resorting to moaning loudly afterwards. He arches his back, slipping his hands up to your waist to squeeze you as best as his weak limbs allow him to. “Really…close…”

“Mhm Tae”, you growl, tightening your arm around his waist to push him down on you. It squishes your nose a little, but you don’t mind. He is burning up on your tongue, twitching and clenching all desperately and driving you insane in the process. You concentrate your touches on his tip, jerking it off with the fastest movements even if that means Taehyung has to writhe and whimper your name. 

Maybe you wanted this to happen. He is so sexy when he is writhing for you. All needy and desperate and running on nothing than the desperate desire to orgasm. He looks sexiest like this. With his skin all glowing in pleasure and the chains around his neck jingling each time he writhes. 

Taehyung tenses every muscle in his body, curling his toes. He hasn't felt so much heat between his legs before. He doesn’t know how to handle it. He has to let go. He  can’t take much more.

“I have to cum”, he croaks, “babe, I-I have to- ah, cum”, he breathes, dropping his head and tensing his stomach, “please. Please. Baby, please.”

You moan into him, twisting your hand in sync with your tongue wiggling into his hole again. Deep and quick. You want him completely ruined. 

“Oh god”, he gasps, “oh god, oh god, n-now ba-”, he can’t finish his sentence as his high knocks him out completely. He screams your name, throwing his head back as he gets swallowed by the flames. He covers your tummy and thighs in his cum, trying his hardest not to drop onto your face, but failing once it feels way too good to him.

“Sorry, oh sorry”, he gasps, shaking atop of you. “I, I can’t control..it! Ah!”

You growl into him, telling him that you don’t mind by pressing him even closer. You want him to give you everything. Every shake, tremble and twitch until he physically can’t give you more.

Six more strokes and then Taehyung gasps in overstimulation, dropping to his elbows involuntarily and slipping off your face that way.

“Oh god”, he chokes out, plopping down on you with his entire weight.

You pant for air, licking your lips to get all of his taste. So fucking tasty. Your hand slips from his cock, caressing his waist instead. He is shivering like crazy.

“Fuck Tae”, you croak, gulping heavily, “that was intense.”

“Mhgmh”, he lets out, hiding his face away in your thigh. He nuzzles you, whining loudly. You lift your head, glancing down at him.

“Are you okay?”

“No?” he turns his head, squishing his cheek against your thigh, “why'd you have to do that?” he whines with a pout.

“Do what?” you ask in a chuckle.

Taehyung rolls off you, dropping onto his back. He rubs his hands over his face, exhaling loudly.

“Make me cum so hard.”

You snicker, sitting up and climbing on top of his lap. You drag his hands away from his face, intertwining your fingers with him and pinning them next to his head.

“I told you that you’ll like it, didn’t I?”

“Yeah? But what the hell?”

You chuckle, leaning in to kiss the tip of his nose.

“So? What’s the bottom line here?”

“That I’m scared of what ya’ doin’ to me”, he murmurs, cracking you up. He laughs with you, wrapping his arms around you to hug you against his chest, “you were right. I loved it”, he says, nuzzling his nose into the side of your face, “never cum that hard before.”

“Yeah? I loved it too. You were so hot”, you tell him, enjoying his hug with a fluttering heart.

He purrs happily, snuggling into you.

“Did you cum too?” he asks, tracing your spine slowly.

“This was about you, it’s fine”, you dismiss him, but Taehyung shakes his head vigorously.

“I can’t accept that. My lady needs to cum too”, he says, sitting up even if it is hard. He picks you up for a second to throw you into the pillows.

“Not so fast”, you laugh, accepting your fate of getting your panties pulled down by him with the biggest heart eyes.

“Relax, babe. I'm gon' take care of you”, Taehyung says and parts your legs. Seconds later has disappeared between them, not to be seen again until you are five orgasms in and you have to tug him away from you by his hair.

[electronicdelusionstarlight]

You know, I was just thinking about the UA entrance exam.

Specifically, how terribly designed it is, but not for the reason they seem to give in the story itself.

Like, here's how it is: Aizawa is shown criticising the UA Entrance Exam once, during the Sports Festival. And the ONE criticism he makes, is that the use of Robot enemies during the exam would disproportionately affect people whose Quirk work against biological opponents, essentially.

His one criticism, is that the exam is not designed to also cater to people like him, and that's it. The way therefore it's set up, it'd be logical to assume he'd ask for a restructuring to the exam to remove the Robots and substitute them with live enemies, possibly Ectoplasm clones.

This is never brought up again, aside from maybe a stealth bring up during the mid term exams when they switch the exam from fighting robots to fighting teachers.

The exam is, and I just got to it myself while watching this video about how Copaganda paints police training and the relative risk police officers face on the job, set up in a very specific environment:

An empty town, where what is essentially a murder spree is taking place. The ONLY entities in the place, outside of fellow examinee, are robots that have been literally designed to attack everyone on sight, and that need to be destroyed to pass. The points granted from saving people are hidden, so they can be more "genuine" of course, and are, ultimately, also part of the problem.

Because here's the fucking thing.

When the fuck is that ever going to happen.

When the fuck, is a superhero, after their 5 years of Hero training in high school, then entering the work force without a need for a decree in higher education, ever going to find themselves in an environment where they can use LETHAL FORCE on civilian targets? With no restraint or care for collateral damage?

And where they are ENCOURAGED to kill as many criminals as they can, and NOT collaborate with other heroes? Because that's another thing, you need to steal points from other people to pass, by culling the number of limited robots, much like heroes are paid by the arrest and by popularity.

You do understand how fucked up that starts to sound right? The other, the enemy, is reduced as a caricature Droid from star wars, there only to kill and destroy, and against whom your only TWO methods of defeat are outright destruction or sneak attacks on their off buttons.

And here's the cherry on the shit too, because, AGAIN, when is that EVER going to be the case?

Do you know how many heroes show up in the first villain attack in BNHA?

Five.

Two are engaging a purse snatcher, three are doing crowd control, the Slime Villain, who may I remind you was guilty of robbery at a convenience store before he got the hostage, gets THE NUMBER ONE HERO, as well as those same FIVE heroes involved, of which only BACKDRAFT is actually doing anything.

Now, imagine you are a hero school, and you produce 40 heroes a year, just like every other hero school out there. How many of those heroes will see active duty, if the rate of crimes demand FIVE heroes to react to ONE criminal?

And people will say "but EDS, this mentality is later rewarded when All Might retires and it all falls to shit," Except NOT REALLY, because that's an externally forced situation caused by, and I can't stress this enough, a hundreds of yeas old NEET boomer who read too many Doctor Doom comics as a kid and decided to become a supervillain, the riots, the open air warfare, is only caused by AFO forcing the hand and inciting popular unrest, which is an unrealistic thing to expect off any society.

In one of the movies, Class 1-A is sent to open an hero agency on a small island with barely a village on it. 20 Heroes. Until the movie truly picks up, the best they do is help kittens from trees, and Bakugou, the sort of person for whom the Entrance Exam was designed, is useless, left in his tent like Achilles, the perfect cowboy cop who peeked in highschool and didn't realize just how much paperwork and dead time his dream job actually entailed.

So that's the ACTUAL Issue with the entrance exam. It take no account for any other mean to beat the robots but brute force, it takes no account for collateral damage, or the sanctity of life of your opponents, and it tests nothing but how good at ending lives you are.

Which is a problem when you're picking future heroes.

[profounddefendorcrusade-blog]

I feel bad for Starlo.

Star has a point, idk what the four were ticked off about, there is like 99% chance everyone willingly participated in the trolley problem, based on what we've seen of his behavior thus far it's not like Starlo to be that big of a jerk/drag them by force/yell at them to do it. Ed's words:

he does it because Star asks NICELY

clearly jealous

It genuinely seemed like a fun time/fun roleplay, especially since every day is the same. Like, the five are supposed to be a rowdy and adventures bunch, what exactly did Starlo do wrong, I'm genuinely confused and curious. Except taking a big liking in Clover (his posse should know that this is a big moment for him, according to Blackjack they've known each other since high school and had the same liking for westerns. So they were basically a nerd gang.) Starlo was kind, patient and considerate towards Clover the whole time, even warned Mooch about them not being bandits, taught Clover gun safety, wanted to bring his posse along for a fun time, thanked Ace for telling him about getting Clover a new hat...

Sure, at first he only liked Clover for being a human, but as Ceroba says, that changed and he grew to genuinely care about them, plus I can't help but think Star saw himself in Clover and that's part of the reason he was so proud of them all the time even when they messed up (I'll talk more about this at some point)

What exactly made Ace want to leave the gang? He even said how he doesn't mind "getting run over by the fake train"

he's so nice. says sorry for forgetting the safety goggles even when he was scatterbrained due to his excitement. I love him so much

The only real "faults" (I'll call them temporary faults) I saw in Star during the Wild East section was that he was even more enthusiastic and more proud than usual. But how couldn't he be when he met a member of the species that he has admired for so long because they have real cowboys and sheriffs on the surface (who are seen as brave heroes who deliver justice, while Star canonically feels like a nobody farmer). His posse should have realized Clover wouldn't be there forever and just let their boss enjoy himself with his "deputy who'd have to leave sooner or later anyway"(or be more patient with him/ask him why he feels this strongly towards Clover/if there's a deeper reason for that). His friends including Ceroba just turn their back on him so quickly instead. The moment he's gotten the chance to feel valued for once and put himself first and not have to take care of this whole town and everyone in it and live his dream of meeting a real human, suddenly "his personality is damaged?"

Star's literally built this whole town, organised everything, he worries about everyone, Ceroba (plus was the one to give her emotional strength before and after Clover's sacrifice), Kanako, the monsters, his family, struggles with feelings of worthlessness yet never wipes that smile off his face, always does his best to be hopeful and optimistic and make others laugh, gave his posse a nap time so they don't become exhausted, gave Ceroba a free home, didn't act upon his feelings towards her and was a 110% supportive, caring friend instead. THAT'S who he is. He's the papa bear of this friend group, the glue holding everyone together.

He was just *really* excited. Y'all know he's insecure and just wishes to escape who he is and yet y'all blame him for liking Clover so much. Yeah, the four are very clearly jealous. But why won't the four of you control your feelings for a while? As mentioned, Clover WILL HAVE TO LEAVE EVENTUALLY. They won't be Star's "deputy" forever (the kid who's just as into westerns as he is, who values justice just as much, who also values doing the right thing. Someone he clearly felt understood in the presence of, whom he loved; just look at the way he talks about Clove during Showdown). Star seems genuinely confused of what he did wrong poor guy just wanted to live his fantasy for once and feel important:

Even at the beginning Moray's like "oh no Martlet is upset" Mooch replies "don't be a buzzkill nothing exciting ever happens around here" and Ray's like "Yeah you've got a point"

If you all agreed to have a little fun with a human who will very soon leave forever why is Starlo's enthusiasm such a big problem? If the posse weren't into this after all (unless they were simply too jealous which could have been solved with a honest talk and a little patience) why are you doing this "rowdy" job with Star in the first place? Do you want your boring routine day to day life so much back? Or just for Clover to leave (which they will soon enough)? You, western enthusiasts, literally met a real human, A HUMAN FROM WESTERNS YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE PASSIONATELY INTO (clearly not as passionate as Star but passionate ENOUGH to understand where he's coming from).

... okay.

[greatwesternrailway]

I made Eras Tour bracelets of all the times Taylor Swift references trains in her songs. The colours are inspired by different trains and railway liveries. Excessive details under the cut:

"You know that my train could take you home" from Willow. Inspired by Great Western Railway's Intercity Express Trains. It's the train I catch most often, it's my train!

"I knew you, stepping on the last train" from Cardigan. Inspired by the subway cars in New York City, which I think of as having blue seats but it seems yellow/orange is just as (or more?) common. Idk I've never been to New York, my whole knowledge of the subway comes from Broad City and pictures of dogs in Ikea bags.

"I jump from the train, I ride off alone" from The Archer. Inspired by ye olde American locomotives like the Union Pacific No. 119. This lyric evokes Wild West imagery for me and this type of engine is what my British brain thinks of as a "cowboy train".

"Rebekah rode up on the afternoon train" from The Last Great American Dynasty. Inspired by the steam locomotives used in the 1940s by the New York, New Haven, and Hartford Railroad, which is what Rebekah Harkness would have rode up on. Sadly I couldn't find a good colour image of one, so I leaned into it and chose a greyscale colour palette. As it happens the engines were almost certainly black anyway so it's fine.

"Silence, the train runs off its tracks" from Sad Beautiful Tragic. Inspired by my boy Thomas the Tank Engine. There are a lot of derailments on the Island of Sodor, the Fat Controller should probably have been sacked.

"Northbound I got carried away, as you boarded your train south" from I Look in People's Windows. Inspired by the London Underground map. I didn't have any brown beads so the Bakerloo line has been reassigned orange.

"We wait for trains that just aren't coming" from New Romantics. Inspired by the British Rail Class 195 trains created for Arriva Rail North, the network so incompetent that even the Tories had to re-nationalise it. Those trains just weren't coming.

"You took the night train for a reason" from Champagne Problems. Inspired by the British Rail Mark 5 coaches used on the Caledonian Sleeper Service.

"Some trains you can't catch again, you've gotta leave it as it was" from Tim McGraw - Acoustic Demo. This is a deep cut that I expect even a lot of Swifties wouldn't necessarily know, but I've always loved this lyric. It totally recontextualises the song and ironically is a much more adult sentiment than the lyrics of the final recording. Inspired by the livery of Anglia Railways, which are the trains of my childhood. Anglia Railways has been sold and rebranded several times since then, so they are quite literally the trains I can't catch again.

I imagine that Taylor Swift has not been on a train in many years, for obvious reasons. However I appreciate her continued use of train imagery in her songs and I hope she never ever stops :)

[lifeiskentastic]

Ken plays Cowboy, and gn!Reader helps him with it

Gif by @makoto-shinkai

A/N: This is probably the silliest thing I've ever written.

Summary: Ken, deeply immersed in the cowboy theme, decides to drag gn!Reader into his silly game. Well, it's not like Reader too much in the way…

Word count: 807 words;

Incpired: This Gorgeous Fanart by @thapunqueen;

Song I recommend: Of course, it's Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy) by Big & Rich;

Hope this makes you smile!

Almost immediately after the patriarchal period, Ken moved on to another. To the cowboy one. It seems that, having realised that he had nothing to catch on the beach (literally and figuratively), he decided to find himself in a radically different profession. So, from now on, this Ken is a cowboy! Which means walking around Barbieland in a cowboy carnival costume, swinging a Sporty Ken's rope lasso and at any moment (usually the most inappropriate) shouting random exclamations that only Ken considered cowboyish.

However, everyone just turned a blind eye to the ridiculousness of the situation, because Ken was happy. He had never smiled so happily as when he learnt to spin the Sporty Ken's rope lasso.

The problems only started when Ken got too much into the role. If at first he was just whining to every passerby that he wanted a gun, now he was shouting to every passerby that he wanted a gun. Everything seemed to work out when he got his wooden gun, but that was just the start of a crazy race called "Calm the Mad Ken Cowboy".

You've often wondered how things would have turned out if one day Ken hadn't just burst into your home with the words:

“You've been abducted! Piff-puff!!”

You were having a peaceful breakfast in your home in Barbieland, well, before you were abducted, of course.

“Why would you want to abduct me?”

Surely you would have been scared to be kidnap. And you probably would have been if Ken hadn't been your kidnapper.

“Because that's what real cowboys do!”

You didn't know much about cowboys, but something told you that they didn't kidnap random people (or dolls) in the middle of their breakfast.

Ken was smiling excitedly, looking back at the door and licking his lips as if he was expecting to see the sheriffs of the wild west on the porch. You really haven't seen him so excited about something in a long time... Maybe you should play along a little bit? What could happen but that you would only make your friend laugh more? Isn't that a good thing?

You take a deep breath before you start the most ridiculous game of your life.

"Uh-oh!" You put your hands up as if a real gun was pointed at you (although hardly anyone says 'uh-oh' when a deadly weapon is glowing in front of them). "I think I've really been kidnapped!"

Ken's eyes lit up with childlike joy as he looked at you with gratitude. You could barely keep your expression in character, hiding a playful smile. Apparently, you were infected with someone else's carefree spirit.

“When will the noble sheriffs come to rescue me?”

But suddenly Ken's face changed dramatically. He stared at at you in confusion, as if he had just realised that he had kidnapped someone (albeit in jest).

“Why can't I rescue you?”

“You abducted me.”

It seems that the word "noble" has put Ken in front of a difficult moral choice: either to be a kidnapping cowboy or to be a rescuing cowboy, but a noble one. After all, how could anyone but him be noble?

“Uh, wait here a minute.”

Ken ran out of the house, leaving you with your hands up in the middle of the kidnapping scene. And you could have sworn you heard a mysterious whispering coming from behind your door.

Later, you were uninvited to your home. For the second time in one day.

“You are saved!”

You exhaled and gave up. Well, it was definitely an unexpected turn of events, but not the worst. You'd managed to make Ken happy, so you could cross one thing off your to-do list! Oh, you were so naive...

“Now I have to kiss you!”

“What?”

Ken was radiating joyful levity even as he declared that it was his duty as a sheriff to kiss the rescued.

“That's what they do in the films.”

When you decided to have fun with Ken, you didn't mean it! You'd be lying if you said you were totally against it, but it did seem a little wrong to kiss in the circumstances. The problem was also that you were intimately familiar with Ken's stubbornness, and especially with the stubbornness of Ken the Cowboy Sheriff. And you had to do something about it immediately...

You hesitantly walked closer to him, quickly, until the cowboy took control of the situation. You reached for his face and lightly touched his soft cheek with your lips.

When you pulled away, you were greeted by a confused Ken, with his hand firmly pressed to his kissed cheek, his cowboy hat tilted back, his eyes shocked and a deep blush all over his face. You could hardly imagine his reaction if you had dared to kis- Thank you for saving me, officer! Ken could only nod

[ohthethingswedoforlove]

Yandere!Starlo headcanons

I've been playing Undertale Yellow and of course I had to write for Starlo, with an introduction and boss fight like that, how could I not?

Warnings: yandere character; vague descriptions of violence; imprisonment; some spoilers for the game;

Starlo

💛 Starlo, or North Star as he has taken a liking to call himself, has always been one for fixations.

💛 And you being a human who just so happened to have the unfortunate mistep of falling into the Underground fits oh so neatly into his acquired fascinations.

💛 Imagine you're a human who managed to venture through the Underground until you stumbled upon the Wild East before Clover even had a chance to.

💛 You're the first human, the first real human Star has ever laid eyes on. And how exciting that is!

💛 He just has to take you along! He's seen so much about your kind and he just yearns to mimic a part of it; and besides, imagine his posse, the Feisty Five, now with a human member!

💛 You barely have time to question what he means by that before you're being taken by his gang and brought to his town. 

💛 And if you somehow manage to break yourself out of the grasp of Ed or any of the other members, Star is pretty quick with his lasso. Don't worry! He doesn't want to hurt you! You just have to come with him them! You have to.

💛 He wants you as part of the team, immediately parading you around for the town's residents, delighted at his newest find. You're going to fit in just fine, partner! He's sure of it.

💛 But you can't leave.

💛 Try as you might to ask around, everyone seems to have a soft spot for Star and think of his antics as mostly harmless. They all share the sentiment that you could just stick around for a bit.

💛 They've never seen him so enthusiastic, so lively before. Maybe you could humor him? Just for a little while! It's the equivalent to playing cowboys for a few days, and where's the harm in that?

💛 Besides, this little town is just so welcoming and friendly. How can you not want to stop and stay a while?

💛 Nevermind that all possible exits seem to be closed off. Or even just straight up locked with a very clear intent.

💛 None of the other residents are as enthusiastic about your stay here. They're very nice to you and happy to see a new face, granted, but you can tell that some of them in particular are internally debating whether or not Star should be doing this. It's all in good fun... And it's not like he's actually trapping you here, right? You'll leave eventually, should you choose to.

💛 Oh, how wrong they'll grow to be.

💛 Star will drag you to "training" as soon as he can, hoping to get you started with a spot on his posse immediately. He has an eye for talent, so surely it'll be no wonder when you start showing sharpshooting skills just as impressive as his!

💛 Nevermind the fact you never held a gun with the intent to shoot in your life.

💛 Training goes over a bit awkwardly, with you clearly not being cut out to be a gunslinger and him being stubborn and convinced that you're made for this. Made to join them. Made to join him.

💛 It takes quite a bit of accidents and a lot of convincing from the other members for him to start accepting that maybe giving you a six-shooter and forcing you to answer to moral problems isn't exactly gonna work out.

💛 But he doesn't give up. 

💛 Sure, you're not officially part of the gang, but that doesn't stop him from dragging you around with him everywhere.

💛 Literally.

💛 Most of the time he guides you around by the hand or, during the moments where you are "refusing to cooperate for no reason", he straight up lassos you and then drags you around.

💛 He laughs it up and tries to play it off like it’s not a big deal. He's not trying to harm you in any way, he just wants to show you around! Show you to his town, show you how fun this life is.

💛 He dresses you up for the role too, insisting in giving you old hats he no longer uses and clothes that would fit the costuming of an old western movie, all things he handmade himself. He just wants you to look the part. And he also thinks you look really cool like that!

💛 You're always there during the gang's meetings, whether you asked to be there or not, and of course you have to participate in the group naps afterwards. 

💛 Star lets you take his spot on the old couch the first few times, but then he starts insisting that you two should share. He does take no for an answer, at least, a bit sad but not wanting to make you uncomfortable. Still doesn't really stop him from sleeping on the ground right in front of the couch. 

💛 Makes it easier to catch you when you're trying to run away leave mid nap, for some reason. You're supposed to rest up before the next mission, you know? He's just trying to help you care for yourself.

💛 When he's not busy playing the role of the town sheriff or hanging out with his posse, while dragging you along of course, he tries to get you to talk about yourself and your life on the Surface.

💛 Star absolutely adores hearing more about you, and gets super into trying to involve your experiences, preferences and stories into the whole old wild west town he has going on. Anything you tell him he absorbs, and then he tries to give you gifts that match or recreate things you've enjoyed to the best of his ability.

💛 Of course, he also goes to show off his brand new knowledge on humans and their lives to anyone in the saloon who's around to listen, all direct from a reliable and wonderful source!

💛 But all of this very obviously obsessive behaviour can only go on for so long before the members of his gang or even Ceroba start to point out how... Weird he's been acting ever since he found you.

💛 He tries to dismiss them. He just cares about you! You're special and he has taken a really strong liking to you. You're like… His partner. Yeah.

💛 So why does he keep you so confined? Well, you're human! Any other monster outside this town finds you and you'll very likely get captured and sent to king Asgore, who will kill you and add your SOUL to the amount needed to break the barrier.

💛 That is if you aren't hurt or killed by an aggressive monster before that even gets to happen.

💛 The others can't really argue about that, much to their frustration, but still point out that he's being overbearing and overprotective.

💛 He ignores them for the most part. Or plays it off, as he usually does. C'mon, the town has been so much more lively since you got here! Why think about all that depressing stuff when we could be having fun and distracting ourselves?

💛 Still, part of him knows it's wrong to keep you here.

💛 Especially when you come to him asking when you can leave. Reminding him that if you managed to get all the way out from the Ruins up until this town, it means that you can handle yourself despite not really being a fighter. And you want to go home.

💛 He feels his heart twist everytime you say that. Home. The guilt instills itself, but it doesn't stop him.

💛 Because... This is your home now, right?

💛 It's selfish, yes, but he doesn't want you to leave. He's grown attached. And he's also grown terrified you're going to end up hurt, or much, much worse. 

💛 Thinking about you being gone from his sight makes his hand shake over the holster of his gun.

💛 So you can't leave.

💛 The town is locked up and you're both figuratively and literally tied to him most of the time, anyway.

💛 You're staying.

💛 You're part of his gang, after all. You're supposed to stick together, through thick and thin.

[foreverdolly]

𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐆𝐔𝐍 𝐖𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 | austin!tex watson x kidnapped!reader

summary: the year is 1969 and you find yourself lucky enough to live up in the hollywood hills, spending your days dancing away to your favorite rock n’ roll vinyls in an old farmhouse and looking after your wild roommates. the only problem? you’ve caught the eye of tex watson. how does he spend his days? making moves towards finally getting everything that he could ever want. you.

pairings: obsessive!tex watson x kidnapped!reader

word count: 16,557

warnings/notes: HEAVY SMUT! serious gunplay, sexy russian roulette, cream pie, breeding kink, marking, claiming, possessiveness, tex literally stalks you, tex then kidnaps you, mention of the manson family, mentions of murder and violence- this is the sexiest thing i’ve ever written, and i will fully finish editing it tomorrow. i’m emotionally drained after finishing this.

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Up in the California hills there sits a small house, nestled smack dab in the middle of a few sprawling acres of farmland. This is where Tex first saw you. 

There’s a long drive leading up to the old farmhouse, and behind it is a small red barn which has faded to a rusty orange over time due to the blinding summer sun. Every once in a while an older gentleman that looks to be in his early fifties will make his way up the mountainside to his little stretch of heaven, the large tires of his wide body chevy truck easily making it over the bumps and divots in the land, so that he can check on his tenants. He’s the kind, homely sort that the Texan was used to interacting with in the south. Watson, who was currently parked on the back bend of the mountain and just out of sight of the house and the main road, watched the older man closely. Tex’s shoulder length hair blew into his face with a large gust of wind, and he was quick to tuck it right back behind his ear, readjusting his cowboy hat to stop the annoyance from happening again. 

A gaggle of girls lived in that farmhouse, all appearing to be what the Californians would consider to be hippies. The free lovin’, barefoot walking, rock n’ roll dancing type of gals that Tex had been told to stay away from once or twice. Of course, these types of girls were the kind that Charlie seemed to like the most. 

The older landowner seemed to have no reservation about their scantily clad forms or the fact that three out of the four of them smoked like chimneys. The man would always climb out of his truck and head to the side door that was connected to the kitchen, and then you would duck your head out with a smile and beckon him in. Tex had been watching that house of yours for what seemed like days, but had really been weeks. Charlie had said in passing that he had seen a car full of pretty girls that might want to come stay at the ranch, and had given Tex the task of extending the invitation. What the “prophet” hadn’t expected was that the tall, lanky boy might grow fond of one of them. 

It was impossible to deny your charms, even from a few hundred feet away. You’d dance to your records like no one was watching, your head thrown back as you loudly sang the lyrics to your favorite songs. It was obvious to him, even after the first few hours of watching you through the windows of the house, that you were the designated ‘mother’ of the group. You cooked most of the meals and cleaned up after the messy hellions with little to no complaints. He supposed that the older gentleman must have been someone’s father, though Tex didn’t care enough to get a very good look at him and his features. Why would he pay attention to anyone else but you? Charlie would ask every other day about the progress Tex was making with talking “the pretty little things down the road” into joining the family, and Tex was guilty of lying about the strides that he was taking to make nice with the group. 

Today was just like any other day. The sun was beating down on the brunette and his tanned skin, his sensitive blue irises shielded by the brim of his hat. He was wearing a t-shirt that communally belonged to the family, though it was a size or two too small for him. It must have been one of the girl’s shirts, because it was quite snug. When he raised his arms the shirt would brush up and over his navel, and when his arms were at his sides, like they were now, it brushed against the soft flesh of his stomach. Today's outfit wasn’t exactly appropriate for crouching down in briars. Not even the fabric of his low waisted, boot cut jeans protected him from the painful stick of thorns. Nothing was going to get in his way of getting a good look at you though. 

“Thanks for dropping by to fix the sink, sir. I’m just sorry that Debbie was out of the house though. . . I know you don’t get to see her often, Mr Swanson.” You were talking to the old man out on the front porch, opening the screen door for him so that he could make his way down the rickety old steps. 

It wasn’t often that Tex got to hear your voice so clear. You seemed apologetic, and from where he stood in the tall brush and thorns, Tex could see that your eyes were soft on the man. Almost like you felt bad about something. The man, who Tex now knew as Mr Swanson, stopped by the door of his truck, quickly waving off your concerns. 

“I’ll just see her the next time I swing by. Let her know that I love her though, will ya?” His voice was deep, with a southern drawl that made the brunette feel a sort of kinship. It wasn’t entirely unusual for people to move to Los Angeles from southern states, but it was rare to meet someone with an accent as thick as his own. ‘Tex’ was a nickname he had been given by the group, and he found that he preferred it to his birth name anyway. Texas, they called him. 

“Will do. Thank you again, sir.” You made sure to watch the man drive off, staying on the porch until his car disappeared behind a thick patch of trees. 

For a second Tex worried that the man might be able to see his car once he got far enough down the mountain, but relaxed when he realized that there were a couple of thick saplings that covered up the car completely. Tex was quick to stand up, clenching his teeth as a few thorns ripped into the skin of his hands as he continued to shuffle through the bushes. Thankfully his cowboy boots protected his lower legs, but the rest of his lithe body was fair game for the sharp weeds. 

He watched your form float through the house, smiling softly to himself as you ended up in the kitchen, just as you always did. You were currently stirring away at something in a big pot, and he was sure that you were already getting things ready for dinner. You were kind and thoughtful like that. It was one of the many reasons why he was so enamored with you. He waited a few more minutes, watching to see if there was anybody else in the house. The upstairs lights were all off, meaning the girls probably weren’t in their rooms. You had also apologized about Debbie’s absence, who he assumed must have been the older man’s daughter. Clearing his throat to calm his sudden nerves, Tex walked out from the bushes, over the dirt driveway, and up the front steps of the house. The porch creaked under his weight as he stalked his way up to the front door. 

He stood there for a few seconds, his fist raised and hovering over the wooden door. He had come up with a story as a means to get you to trust him beforehand, but a strange sense of guilt had begun washing over him. Tex was by no means a good person. He wasn’t shocked by the fact that he was really standing on your front porch, mere seconds from stealing you away to the ranch. Instead of being shaken to the core by his innermost urges, he had mindlessly acted on them. Now here he stood, right on your front porch. Right where he shouldn’t be. He still had time to turn around. He could have told Charlie that he knew you personally, and felt odd about taking you back to the ranch. The head of the family would have been annoyed, and perhaps Tex would be forced to prove his loyalty, but you would at least be safe and untouched. You were too sweet and pure to be tainted. 

Tex slowly turned his head to face the long drive, biting the inside of his cheek as he wracked his brain for some sort of definitive answer. What should he do? The second that he took you there would be no turning back. You’d be forced to stay with him… but wasn’t that what he really wanted? Fate had placed you right into his lap. You were meant for him and nobody else. You gave the lanky man no time to mull over his decision. From the kitchen window you had seen him walking up the drive and decided to investigate.

At first you had been terrified, and rightly so. You rarely got any visitors since you lived so far out in the middle of nowhere, so it was unusual for a man who was around your age to be wandering around on your land. You had placed the wooden spoon down on the counter, shuffling over towards the front door in the hopes of being able to see him through the small windows that overlooked the porch. Sure enough he seemed to just be standing there, his eyebrows knit in concern, his plush lips downturned into a deep frown. It was his obvious distress that made you open up the front door, looking at him through the screen. Little did you know that you would be sacrificing both your safety and your life. He blinked at you, his handsome face hidden behind the shadow that was cast from the brim of his hat. 

“U-Uh. . . can I help you, sir?” You asked, trying to keep the fear out of your tone. 

You’d recently caught wind of a few recent robberies, and the last thing that you wanted was for something like that to happen to you. The longer that you looked at the handsome stranger, the harder it was to believe that he could be a thief though. You eyed his clothing for a second before finally deciding that he must be one of the girl’s guests. The cropped shirt and tight fitting jeans made him fit in with the sort of crowd that you usually hung around. Without a second thought you swung the screen door open, allowing him to shuffle a few steps closer to you. “Are you here to see one of the girls? They’re actually headed into town right now, but feel free to wait around-” Your heart lurched as you watched him lean against the doorframe, shoving his hands into his pockets as he watched you. 

No one had ever looked at you the way that he was looking at you in that moment. Sure, you attracted men’s attention, but this wasn’t just a glazed over sexual glance- this man was staring at you almost as though you were his favorite person in the whole world. Like you were some celebrity that he was finally getting to meet after years of idolization. It was wholly unsettling. 

“I’m actually not here for any of that.” Your face paled, and all you could do was pray that a robber wasn’t halfway through your open door. “I was actually headed up the mountain to go hiking? But I must have turned onto your drive instead. I’ve got an ole’ piece of shit beater, and it broke down on the way back down the mountain. Can I use your phone, darlin’? Just to call a friend.” His southern accent was thicker than Mr Swanson’s, and there was something about that Texan drawl that disarmed you. It made you feel like he was someone kind and trustworthy. 

“Yeah- of course. People get lost up this mountain all the time. Here, come on in.” You took a step back into the house, your mind far from accepting of the possible dangerous circumstances. It was nineteen sixty-nine, so what was the worst thing that could happen? Not to mention that the man looked like he understood the way that you lived your life. He seemed free spirited, what with his outlandish sense of style. “Our phone is right in the living room.” You called out to him, your bare feet creaking on the old hardwood floors as you made your way down the hall. Tex took his time looking around the house, his palms beginning to sweat as he realized how close he finally was to you. He could finally tell the exact color of your eyes, and smell the incense coming off of your long, wild locks. He loved you more than he could express in words. 

The rugs on the floor looked handmade, like someone had tied a bunch of silk scarves together. They felt plush under his boots as he made his way down the hall and into the living room. The southerner had spent a lot of time watching you from just outside that living room window. He could see his hiding spot where he stood now, just behind a thick patch of trees and brush, far off from your driveway just in case your roommates got any late night visitors. The house smelled like patchouli, nag champa and whatever you were currently cooking on the stove. Though of course this wasn’t the first time that he had been inside of your home. He had made visits from time to time when no one was home, eagerly shoving keepsakes into his pockets that you wouldn’t miss.

You and your friends didn’t spend much time watching tv, but there was a small television set up in the corner. He could tell that you had quite the record collection, but now that he was finally in the home, he saw that there were crates everywhere. “You like the blues?” He asked, bending down so that he could leaf through a few of the vinyls that you had right beside the telephone. You blinked a few times, almost in shock that he was going through your things before you relented, looking almost shy. 

“Yeah, don’t you?” Tex froze, taking a steadying breath so that he could gather up the strength he needed to look at you head on again. You were so beautiful that it hurt him to see you this close up. He didn’t think that it was possible to fall deeper in love with you, but he was. . 

“Me? I love rhythm and blues. You’ve got a nice collection here too. I see ya like Neil Young. . . he’s a real nice guy; a buddy of mine, actually.” Tex was stalling, and he knew it. Either he made an excuse and left the house now or he took this opportunity and brought you back home with him. He risked another glance up at your face, tracing your plush bottom lip, and then making his way up to your large doe eyes. Another stab of guilt hit him when he realized just how much you trusted him at this moment. He’d teach you how to protect yourself later, but for now he thanked God for your innocence. You were his sweet, naive baby. He’d take good care of you from now on. 

He reached out and picked up the phone, holding it against his ear as he stared at the dial pad. For a few seconds you thought that maybe he was trying to remember the right number, but there was something blank in his stare that made you begin to feel uneasy. Unsafe. Your heart picked up, pounding away in your ears as you shuffled in your spot, trying to soothe yourself by running your foot along the shag rug you had set up in the living room. 

“A-Aren’t you gonna use the phone?” You finally asked, motioning to it with your hand. 

Before you could drop your arm back down to your side he was gripping your wrist, yanking you down towards him. You barely had enough time to scream before you were lurching forward. The phone made a shrill sound as Tex threw the receiver to the ground, yanking hard at the cord to tear it out of the wall. The second that you were on the ground, Tex was moving to straddle you, trying his best to calm you with his words. “I’m not gonna hurt you, darlin’. You’ve just gotta calm down.” He tried, grabbing your wrists in one of his large hands while he fought to tie the phone cord around them to bind you. 

Your beautiful features were twisted with fear, tears pouring down your cheeks as you came to the hard realization that you had been betrayed. That you had chosen to trust the handsome stranger and that you had been an idiot in doing so. Tex watched in real time as you realized that your own innocence had been your downfall. He wanted to tell you that he wanted you to hold on to those rose colored glasses of yours. The hurt that he saw in your eyes made him want to stop what he was doing, or even turn the gun that he had burning a hole in his side on himself. He was hurting you. Tex was hurting you. 

The fear felt like it was going to eat you up alive. You could barely fill your lungs with enough air to keep yourself conscious, your loud sobs and screams tearing up from your throat only to be muffled by his hand. The stranger allowed you to buck and kick from underneath him, his hips moving with your body almost as though you were a bull trying to catapult him off. He must have had a lot of experience riding horses, because he stayed anchored to you, his solid weight crushing into your much tinier form. The long haired man flinched when your small foot made contact with a lamp on a nearby table, listening to the glass shatter behind him. 

“You’re evil!” You bit out at him, briny tears slipping past your lips and into your mouth. 

“Pure evil. Practically the devil. But I’m an angel where you’re concerned, so you better stop tryin’a kick’ me or else, lil lady.” 

Still, he kept trying his best to shush you, whispering sweet nothings to you that you weren’t quite ready to hear or understand. Finally, after what felt like hours of tirelessly trying to fight him off, you succumbed to your aching muscles. You sucked in gulps of air, shaking like a leaf as he smoothed your hair off of your sweaty forehead, cooing to you gently. 

“I’m not gonna hurt ya, pretty girl. I’m not going to do anythin’ bad to ya, alright? I just want ya to come home with me.” And then it all made sense. Things started to click into place. 

You’d felt like someone had been watching you for weeks, but any time you looked out the window or flicked the porch light on there would be no one there. Your roommates had tried to tell you that you were being paranoid, and while a part of you wanted to give up and tell them that they were right, you had known that something just wasn’t right. You didn’t want to ask him if he had been watching you. You were too scared to hear him say it- not like you needed to hear the answer anyway. You already knew. Deep down you knew that he had been trailing you for weeks. For what purpose? You weren’t quite sure of that yet. 

You pressed your cheek against the carpet, closing your eyes tightly as he slowly climbed off of you. He wanted to make sure that you weren’t going to hurt yourself with all of the glass on the floor. He hovered above you for a few seconds, making sure that you were done putting up a fight before breezing through the house, acting almost as though he owned the place. If there was ever a time to try and get up, now would be that time. You refused to die without putting up a fight. So once he was off of you and looking around the house, no doubt for something to probably tie your legs up with, you fumbled to sit up, pulling at your arms with all of your might. The plastic wires didn’t bend or break at all, and so you were left to pull yourself up with great difficulty, hissing softly in pain as broken pieces of glass embedded themselves into your bare legs. You were tired, terrified, and now injured. This didn’t stop you from stumbling up and onto your feet, breathing heavily as you made your way down the hall as quietly as you could, the front door in sight. Maybe you could run down the driveway and out onto the road, praying that someone in their car might see or hear you screaming for help. It was worth a shot. You’d almost made it to the screen door when you heard a very soft clicking noise directly behind you. You’d heard the sound in enough western films to know that it belonged to a weapon. Specifically an old revolver. Something with enough power to blow a hole straight through you. 

“I was tryin’ to be nice, honey. Now I know you’re not the type to go ‘round takin’ advantage of others kindness.” Kindness. You heard his voice right behind you, your muscles tensing as you realized that the only chance you had was now gone. This was it. Either you died right here or did as he said. 

Of course you didn’t know that he was madly in love with you. How could you know that? The gun was merely a prop, something that he had brought to scare you, and if there happened to be a confrontation at the house while he was getting you, he would use it to protect both you and himself. Even if you managed to run out of the house, he would have never shot you. Not in a million years. You could do anything you wanted to him, and he still wouldn’t raise a hand to you. Besides, even if you somehow managed to get yourself free, Tex knew that he could outrun and overpower you in seconds. You had absolutely no chance of escape. He just needed to scare you enough to get you into the car with him, and from the looks of it you seemed to be absolutely petrified already. He watched your legs buckle underneath you, eyes wide and watery as you stared at him. 

“A-Are you gonna kill me, sir.” Maybe it was the way you looked at him like he had deeply betrayed you, or the fact that you had tears running down your cheeks. Perhaps it was the way your voice broke as you tried to speak, sounding far more innocent than anything or anyone Tex deserved to put his filthy hands on. Whatever it was, Tex felt like he was going to burst into tears right along with you. 

He blinked them away, quickly shaking his head in the hopes of alleviating your fears. “I promise you that I will not hurt you or let you be hurt by anyone else. I just gotta have you, is all.” 

Your shaky legs weren’t able to keep yourself up anymore. You were cut up and your muscles felt like jello from all of the constant kicking and jerking from earlier. The pure, unadulterated terror had filled your joints with cement. You had fought as hard as you could, and it still had been nowhere enough. You had seen movies in the past where girls were kidnapped or held for ransom, and you felt horrible now for ever thinking that they didn’t fight half as hard as they should have during those scenes. Because you must have looked the exact same way they did. Kicking and flailing without any real rhyme or reason, praying that your legs or fists might connect with something to make him back off of you. Now here you were, battered and bruised- and the worst part was that it was all your own fault. He really had stayed true to his word. He hadn’t hurt you at all, save for the fact that he had bound your wrists so tightly that it felt like it was cutting off your circulation. 

You looked up at him like he wasn’t speaking English at all. To you he might as well have been speaking in tongues. He had to have you? He noticed your confusion instantly. Tex had all of your mannerisms downpat already. You two might as well have been lovers for years. He studied you much like a devout catholic might study the holy bible. Front to back. No page left unturned. Every twitch of your nose, pout of your lips, and twinkle in your eyes didn’t go unnoticed by him. He wanted to massage the small line that was appearing between your furrowed brows, and now that he had you bound and weakened, he was finally able to. Tex let out a breathy sound that sounded like a sigh of relief to your ears as he pressed his thumb in between your eyes, rubbing out the worry lines that had appeared on your adorably scrunched up face. Your skin was hot, sticky with sweat under his hands. He was practically buzzing as he made the realization that he was touching you. . . touching you so nonchalantly. He’d be able to do this from now on too. 

“Ya see… I’ve been watchin’ your house for some time now. I came for Charlie but stayed for myself.” He told you this almost as though he was telling you that it was going to be overcast tomorrow. Not a lick of shame. 

At the mention of another man’s name your terror began to mount. Why did he want you? What would you be used for? Were there multiple men in on this kidnapping? Were your roommates in any danger? It was almost as though Tex could read your mind, quickly getting down on his knees in front of you, grabbing your shoulder in one strong hand. You noticed the scratches on them, the veins visible, twisting up his strong forearms. You immediately made the connection to the briar patches in the wooded area around you. 

“No one else will have anythin’ to do with ya, alright? Like I said darlin’, i ain’t gonna let nothin’ touch ya.” But you weren’t sure that you believed him. 

For a minute or two you both just looked at each other. He was willing you to trust him and you were willing him to let you go. His handsome features weren’t lost on you. Even despite the hell that he was bound to put you through, you couldn’t help but look up at him and see a beautiful face. Pillow plush lips, big blue eyes framed by thick lashes, and a body that both towered over you and easily overpowered you. He had slung you around like a ragdoll earlier. Like you weighed nothing more than a bag of downing feathers. 

He was oleander; both beautiful and deadly. 

Tex had left you alone for far too long. You had busied yourself with following the shapes and designs of his crumpled comforter with your eyes, hoping that it would fight off the panic and horror that was beginning to grip at your lungs. You still felt shaky, like at any moment you might break down into some unsalvageable fragment of your once carefree self. You readied yourself for the madness, but it didn’t come. No matter how hard you tried to disassociate from your current plane of existence, no relief was awarded. Whatever commune or “family” that Tex had dragged you into was one of labyrinthian complexity. He had parked his rickety car right in front of the farm, which happened to be not far from your very own home. It made you think that perhaps he had seen you driving home one day and had felt compelled to follow you onto your little safehaven of land. 

The girls and you had joked about it being your own little slice of heaven. A paradise. All the four of you had to do was look after the land and make sure that no one looted the house. Debbie’s father was a very kind and very rich man who never made a fuss about taking care of all of you. He had been born and raised in North Carolina; a man that had been brought up on good southern values. He loved his daughter more than anything, and so he always saw you as family. You had been there for Debbie when they had first moved to California, a fast made friend all the way back in high school. Your heart squeezed uncomfortably in your chest, aching to the point where you were sure that it might just pop in your small heaving chest as you began to imagine what Debbie might be feeling right about now. You always took such good care of her. Loved her and your other friends like sisters. They were probably in a frenzy, calling up all of your friends to see who might have been there with you. Who might have hurt you. 

All Tex had told you before sitting you down on his bed was that he had to talk to Charlie. Had to explain things to him and then all would be well. That must have been thirty minutes ago now. You had only caught a glimpse of the group of misfits on your way up the stairs to his room. Most of them looked high out of their minds. You recognized that glazed look in their eyes. You were all about people joining hands and living as one, but this wasn’t that. This was something strange all together. This was something so completely other that your brain couldn’t quite define what it was that you were thinking or feeling. All you knew for a fact was that alarm bells were sounding off in your head in a steady stream of white hot noise. You had seen a man that you thought might be Charlie. Three girls were practically laid out on top of him when you and Tex had walked through the front door.. One had been playing with his scraggly hair, the two others rolling what might be a smoke, but you knew was probably dope. 

You didn’t tend to judge when it came to couples like that. You’d seen your fair share of “free love” at festivals. Most polyamorous couples stuck to themselves, nothing more than good and honest people who had a little too much love in their hearts. There was something odd about the damn near robotic way the girls were fawning over that man though. Almost like they felt as though they needed to take care of him. Like they were nothing more than servants. Just homely little wives that were born and bred to fuck, feed, and fawn over him. You hoped that this wasn’t something that Tex expected of you. You hoped that in a few days he’d change his mind and bring you back. You already had a speech ready: If you take me back now I won’t tell anybody what I’ve seen or what you’ve done. I’ll just lie and say that I got a bad phone call and had to blow off steam for a few days. 

The sad thing was that your friends would probably believe that lie. Your home life has been one of constant disappointment and misery. No one would ever question Tex, and you sure as hell didn’t want to get yourself mixed up with the cops. Whatever was happening on this ranch was bad news. Really bad news. 

“Little lady?” Your sore muscles tightened again, wide eyes instantly flashing back over towards the closed door. It was Tex. His accent set him apart from everybody else. Made him memorable. 

He looked even taller than you remembered him being now that his back was pressed up against the doorway. He was quick to slip in, closing the door behind him. He seemed happy about something, and it unnerved you to no end. He was smiling at you almost as though he had just won the lottery. 

“Charlie said that you’re welcome here,” He purred out, striding towards you confidently before crouching down on his knees, placing one of his hands on your thigh as he spoke, acting as though the two of you had known each other for years. “You’re part of the family now, which means you don’t have to worry. No one is gonna hurt ya or try to take ya from me.” 

Your heart jumped, lodging itself in your throat. You felt light headed. His smile slowly fell, his blue eyes rounding a bit as he stood up hurriedly, laying you back against the mattress. His hands shook as he grabbed your calves, situating you on the bed so that he could pull the comforter up and over you. His sheets smelled like fresh ivory soap, sweat and man. Your vision was tunneling and your teeth chattering. What little hope you had that this delusional man would take you back home was gone. No. . . he didn’t look even the least bit nervous about taking you. What timidness he had shown during the drive up to the ranch must have been about whether or not Charlie’s reaction to your presence would be negative. Now that the confrontation was out of the way he seemed fit as a fiddle and right as rain. 

“Your lips are turning white. . . y-you okay, honey?” He was rubbing your arms up and down through the fabric of the comforter, your skin pulling uncomfortably at your wrists where you were still bound. “Come on. Speak to me. I can’t help you unless you tell me what’s wron-” 

It was the utter audacity of the stranger that turned your nerves into rage. You felt it building up, the heart aching sadness morphing into some big, ugly beast that you didn’t recognize in yourself. “What’s wrong? I-I was just attacked in my own home and kidnapped. Now you’ve got me tied up in a house with a bunch of weirdos-” His large hand was quick to cover your mouth, his eyes narrowing on your face before turning towards the door quickly. He must have been nervous of someone overhearing you.

When his friends got their feelings hurt they usually blew the offender’s head off or slit their throats in their sleep. You tried to speak through his calloused hand, but he only pressed down harder, your lips digging uncomfortably into your teeth. His hand smelled of sweat, men's cologne and grass. Judging by his boots and dirt stained pants he had probably been working out in the yard before he had come for you. “Those weirdos have short tempers, darlin’. If someone hurts you. . .  then i’ll react with violence myself, and I don’t wanna make an enemy outta any of em’. Do you understand what I’m tryna say?” 

You didn’t understand exactly what he was saying… aside from the fact that he had just told you- in a rather roundabout way- that they were dangerous. You tried to calm down, realizing that panicking and yelling wasn’t going to get you anywhere with the man. You took a few steadying breaths through your nose, nodding your head to let him know that you were catching on to the severity of the situation. Slowly he removed his hand, allowing you to quickly lick your lips and gather your bearings. You could taste his salty sweat on your tongue and fought back the urge to spit. When you looked back up at him, ready to question as to what the hell was really going on, he seemed to be distracted with his hand. The very hand that had just been pressed against your lips. You cleared your throat to get his attention, hoping that you hadn’t ended up biting him by accident. He might have said that he wouldn’t hurt you, but that didn’t mean that you believed it. He seemed to be entranced by the palm that had been pressed against your lips. Before you could question him as to what he could be staring at, he brought his palm up to his mouth. You wanted to voice your disgust as you watched him drag his tongue along his calloused skin to lap up your spit. 

He let his eyes flicker up towards your face, almost like he was daring you to say something. It was almost like he wanted to explain himself. You didn’t want to act too shocked. Didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of getting some kind of reaction out of you. Now that he had removed the jet black cowboy hat from his head you could see his eyes better. They were as blue as a summer midday sky. They looked startlingly bright against his sun kissed skin. You needed to avert your eyes away from his face, especially since he was still licking at his palm, seemingly to get every remnant of what had been left over from your mouth. The heated eye contact that he was making with you whilst doing that had you nearly shivering as a result. It was startling. Grotesque. He was staring at you like he wanted to devour you. Like he wished it was your own mouth that he was lapping at instead. Or maybe even. . . 

You tightened your thighs on impulse, blinking wildly to rid yourself of the image that your panicked brain had conjured up. 

“W-What is your name?” You needed to work your way from the ground up, you could tell. He wasn’t about to volunteer sensitive information straight away. At least. . . you didn’t think that he trusted you that much yet. 

His face fell, his hand falling limply on top of your legs as it finally dawned on him that you didn’t even know his name. You really did no nothing about him. How ridiculous it was of him to forget. “Tex. Tex Watson.” He cleared his throat before letting his eyes bounce around the room, his cheeks getting a bit pinker as he continued. “I-I mean people call me Tex. I’d prefer it if you called me that too.” Which meant that Tex probably wasn’t his real name. Ah- there it was. The shame in his eyes. The sudden realization that you knew nothing about him, yet here he was, talking to you like you were long time lovers. Touching you like it was all he had been doing for years. 

The self reflection was gone just as soon as it had come though, a gleeful damn near smirk soon pulling at his lips. “Ask me anythin’ you want.” Perhaps he wanted you to ask about the happenings of the ranch. Maybe he enjoyed the fear that it was instilling in you. 

“What is this place?” You tried to keep your voice steady and school your face into an expression of slight indifference. If he was just playing with you like a cat would a mouse, the last thing you wanted to do was give him what he wanted. Maybe he would kill you quicker if you helped him play out whatever sick fantasy this was, and you couldn’t have that. Still though, you couldn’t help but find his behavior out of the ordinary for someone who might just want to kill you. No matter how terrified you were, you were beginning to believe him. He wasn’t going to kill you. He just wanted to keep you. Stare at you. Possibly even love you. It was odd, and to your sane and sound mind this was the farthest thing from normal, but if you had any hope of getting out of here alive and in one piece, you had to play along. 

“We call ourselves a family- one that you’re now’a part of,” He placed a hand on your cheek, and you couldn’t keep yourself from flinching, your body giving in to it’s natural instinct to evade his touch. If he noticed he didn’t seem to mind. He ran his thumb against your cheek, marveling at how soft it was. He was beginning to feel a bit more greedy with his touches. “But Charles looks after all of us. We have a divine purpose on this earth. You do too. I knew it from the very first second that’a laid eyes on ya. Ya were destined to be my wife.” 

You found out a lot about the family and it’s dynamic. Charles was the leader and they- the people that you had seen downstairs- were his followers. Most of the women in the family were romantically involved with the man in charge, and they called themselves his “wives”. The more Tex spoke, the faster you realized that this place was less of a group of friends and more of some sort of a religious cult. They seemed to believe that it was their duty to help and bring on the apocalypse. From what you could remember of the countless brainwashing bible camps that your parents had forced you to attend, the apocalypse was supposed to not only be the end of the world as everyone knew it, but the end of the human race. No one evaded death. The good went to heaven and the bad suffered and went to hell. 

Did this mean that Tex and the rest of his “family” members wanted people to die? Did they do any killing?  It was all very strange and very confusing. You pried a little bit more about Tex and how he fit into the hierarchy of the family. He seemed to be high up on the totem pole, stating that the only person that he answered to was Charles himself. You asked whether or not he had any other wives, but he was quick to try and “alleviate your fears”, letting you know that he strictly practiced monogamy. 

You asked him questions until the sun set behind your beloved mountain, the two of you now talking in a dark room. He offered to feed you, bringing back a plate of dinner that one of Charlie’s “wives” had prepared for the entire ranch, but you declined. You were positive that if you tried to eat anything that it would come right back up. He had hesitantly accepted the fact that you were in no state to eat, finishing the plate of food himself. 

Getting to know Tex did nothing to deaden your fears. If anything, you felt terrified for your well being far more than you had before. He was absolutely unhinged, but the fact that his friends were ten times worse was crystal clear. As long as you laid low in the house and stuck to Tex like glue, it sounded like you would be able to slip right under the radar. There was no way you were going to get off of the ranch by yourself, so you needed help. You needed Tex’s help to do that, so you needed to get on his good side sooner rather than later. You couldn’t afford to have a mental breakdown- not yet at least. You could scream and cry after you were home safe. 

After he had told you his entire life story he seemed content enough to place his hands on his knees, standing up with a small groan before heading towards the ensuite bathroom. Being left alone, even if he was just in the other room, made your body lock up in terror. You were able to shyly ask him through your nervous cottonmouth whether or not he’d be willing to let you sit in the bathroom with him. He seemed to hesitate but gave in regardless. It wasn’t until the both of you were standing under the bright fluorescent lights in the bathroom that he finally realized how horrible your bound hands looked. They were practically white from the lack of circulation. “God damn it, baby! Why didn’t you tell me ‘bout this?” He was quick to exclaim, hurriedly reaching into the back pocket of his pants and pulling out a pocket knife. You were unable to keep from letting out a small shriek, backing up against the bathroom sink as tightly as you could. He threw his free hand up in what seemed to be exhaustion and annoyance. 

“I just rattled on for ages about how I was meant to marry ya, and you think imma hurt you? Stop fussin’ so much, alright? You’re safe. I’ve got ya. I have the means to protect ya, so nothin’ is gonna happen.” With that being said he closed the gap between your bodies, shoving the knife under the tightly wrapped cord and pulling, hacking away binds. 

The second that the blood started rushing back to your hands you felt a sharp sting. You flinched and tried desperately to get your fingers to move. Tex closed the pocket knife, shoving it back in his back pocket before reaching out for your hands, rubbing at the sore skin with his thumbs. It felt like you had ducked your hands into a pocket of spiders, your nerves twitching and coming back to life. After making sure that you were alright, Tex stood up a little straighter, nodding his head towards the bathroom door. 

“I don’t like threatenin’ you, honey, but you need to know that if you leave this room without me there will be consequences.” His hands moved to his shirt as he spoke to you, slipping it off without any hesitation in front of you. You were quick to avert your eyes as his hands moved down to his pants, biting down on your lower lip as you tried to keep yourself from screaming yet again. How could he ever think that this was normal? 

“You can look if you want,” He was still standing right in front of you, his deep voice still sounding just as close. “It’s all yours.” 

It’s not like you had never had sex before, but it was infrequent enough for the shame of this entire situation to redden your cheeks and ears. Your roommates weren’t opposed to sleeping with friends or strangers on a regular basis, and while you never judged them for what they did, you weren’t the kind of person to involve yourself with someone you didn’t know well enough. You half expected Tex to try and coerce you, but the second he saw the look on your face he turned the shower on, climbing in and closing the curtain tight behind him. 

“I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have undressed in front of ya. That was wrong of me.” That was the most regretful that you’d heard him sound this entire time. “I just. . . I just love ya so much. It’s very hard to control myself, but I will. You don’ have to be afraid of me.” But you were. Terrified. Petrified even. You didn’t answer him. 

“I know that eventually you’ll come ‘round. You’ll see. You’re mine and I’m yours, and isn’t that how it’s supposed to be between a married couple?” You had dropped your head into your hands as you sat down on the counter, your feet dangling above the floor. You didn’t have the energy left to be shocked. 

“Married?” Your voice came out more even than you expected it to. 

“Spiritually, at least. We’ve been tethered since our very inception. That’s what Charlie told me at least, and I believe him.” But you sure as hell didn’t. 

Much like you had done with the comforter just hours ago, you laid awake on your back, eyes staring up at the ceiling. You tried to find any cracks or imperfections with your eyes, making unnecessary note of each one. Tex, though he had stayed true to his word the entire night and hadn’t hurt nor forced himself upon you, had insisted that you sleep with him in his room. He had given you space, scooting back far enough on the bed to where only your feet touched under the blanket. You’d be lying if you didn’t think about making a run for it, and he had made sure to let you know that staying with him would be safer than running into his friends downstairs. It wasn’t exactly a threat, but sure as hell felt like one. You hadn’t been able to fully relax until you heard his breathing even out, risking a glance over at him once you were absolutely certain that he had fallen asleep. 

Once again, the duality of him was on full display. It was difficult- damn near impossible- to imagine someone that looked like he did to do such a thing. How could he kidnap anyone when he looked like an angel? He had held you at gunpoint not even five hours ago, yet here he was, lashes gently fluttering as he dreamed. The gentle slope of his nose was nuzzled against his dark green pillow case, and the hair that was still wet from his shower was sticking to his cheeks. Now that his blue eyes were closed you were able to see just how thick his lashes were, even in the pale moonlight. The worst part was how innocent he looked. You hated him, but there was a small part of you that didn’t want to. 

Was the crime that he committed a good indication that he had mental health issues? Was he someone that should be pitied rather than detested? Still, he was articulate and had a way with storytelling. He seemed intelligent and calculated with his thoughts and decisions. 

You spent the rest of the night like that, staring up at the ceiling and trying to come up with excuses for his bad behavior. You had drifted off a few times, but startled awake whenever you felt his large body shift closer to yours, unused to sleeping next to someone. Your body was on high alert, sensitive to everything around you. 

These anxieties bled into your daily life on the ranch. The more days passed though, the less afraid you were that you were going to be hurt. Rather you became hyper aware of Tex rather than just the things around you. Tex’s friends didn’t seem very interested in talking to you, not even during dinner. 

Their loud voices blended in with the constant music pouring out of the media system in the living room. The Beatles, Neil Young and The Beach boys became the soundtrack to your everyday life. You weren’t mad about the incessant background noise either. It was in the dead of night when no one was awake to flip the vinyl that things got eerie. Silence became your worst enemy. You’d wake up in the dead of night to the dull crackling downstairs from the speakers, all of your newest fears at the forefront of your mind. Tex got closer to you as the days passed. He was testing the waters and chipping away at your resolve. You’d lost the fight that you once had, so you no longer pushed away his arms when he pulled you into a hug. He loved to be touching you at all times. Whether it was him brushing his hand against yours, placing your thighs over his lap when the two of you were in the living room, or even pressing his nose against the back of your head as you both slept so that he could breathe in your scent. You’d never had a serious boyfriend in your life, and to be touched constantly at all hours of the day made you feel confused and conflicted. 

It also didn’t help that Tex wasn’t exactly a monster. He had asked to kiss you a few times as the days passed by, and all it took was a shake of your head for him to give up. Anything farther than fleeting touches were off limits to him. Even when you felt his hands shaking with need as they brushed over your thighs, he never pushed you. He never took too much from you. It was easy to fall into a pattern of monotony. Tex would wake up early to feed the animals, letting you sleep in when exhaustion was still melting you into the mattress. Then breakfast was served, oftentimes you helped the other girls wordlessly. You used to cook for your girls everyday, so the task made you feel normal. Like your life hadn’t just been torn from you. Then you and Tex would drift into the living room and listen to music with Charlie and the rest of the group. The way that they all spoke to one another just seemed like a close knit group of friends shooting the shit to most, but you knew that there were secret codes and heavy meanings between each nod of their head or odd hand movement. Tex might have loved you, but that didn’t mean that he planned to tell you everything about his life. 

The group rarely called you by your name. They’d assigned you little nicknames, which was supposed to make you feel more comfortable around them. Tex also had a habit of referring to you as “the ole’ lady”, which you didn’t hate half as much as you should have. 

“Why are you so against me dyin’ my hair?” He spoke up from his spot on the corner of the tub, picking at a small hole on his bell bottoms as he waited for you to get started. He had been wearing the same shirt that you had worn yesterday before he had shrugged it off and over his head, not wanting to stain it. That was another thing that made you homesick. The group liked to share clothes. 

You were clutching the bottle to your chest, glaring at the back of his head as you tried to come up with an answer. “I just don’t think black hair is going to look good on you, is all.” You grumbled, quickly evading his eyes as he turned his head to face you with a smirk. 

“So. . . what yer’ tellin’ me is that’cha like my natural hair color? S’ that it?” Damn him and his dumb accent. Damn him and his big blue eyes. Damn him. 

Instead of answering you simply reached out, giving his hair a quick tug. You were trying to be mean to him and to get him to stop his teasing, but you being the one to initiate the touching must have caught him off guard. He let out a loud yelp, the sound echoing around the tiled bathroom. A few seconds afterwards you heard a shuddered breath slip past his lips, and the sound made you clench your jaw. His hands moved out to grip the sides of the porcelain tub until his knuckles were white, the muscles of his bare back tightening. There it was again. The tension was often unbearable between the two of you. Your passionate distaste for him had shifted into a passionate “something”. You just couldn’t pinpoint what it could possibly be. What it could mean for you. The fact that you could even tolerate the asshole wasn’t right. It made you think of your mother, who loved your father despite the constant hell he put her through. 

All men had ever done was disappoint you and let you down. Tex, while he had done something awful to you and had hurt you, was always so soft with you. He did things without having to be told. He looked out for you. He tucked you in at night. He looked at you almost as though you were the only woman on the entire planet. He couldn’t get enough of you. He never stopped telling you how much he loved you, and you believed him. Maybe you were just as sick in the head as he was, because you believed that he loved you. When he said that there was no one else out there for him, you knew that he was telling the truth. It was because of this constant attention that you found it hard to deny yourself of the urge to explore. There was this insanely bratty part of yourself that wanted to test him and his devotion for you. 

You stared down at his chocolate brown hair for a few more seconds, rubbing your fingers against a few fine strands before saying your final goodbye to his natural color. “Don’t cry to me when you look ridiculous though.” You tried to sound cold, but really just sounded like a nagging girlfriend. He didn’t seem to mind. You could hear him chuckling softly, his eyes glued to the yellow shower tiles in front of him. It didn’t take you long to apply the black dye, tossing the applicator in the trash once you were finished. His sudden urge to dye his hair confused you to no end, but very little of what Tex did made complete sense. 

“How long do ya think I should leave this in for?” He finally asked, standing up inside of the tub and stretching out his long arms up and over his head as he waited for your answer. You watched the muscles in his shoulders tense, his biceps bulging ever so slightly with the movement. He raised an eyebrow when he noticed you staring, but you turned away from him to wash your hands at the sink before he could say anything. 

“Uh. . . probably twenty minutes, I’d think.” You had gotten a few specks of dye on your wrists and palm, and no matter how hard you scrubbed at the skin with soap it didn’t want to wash out. Tex seemed to stain you that very same way. He had tainted you- did something fucked up to your mind, and now you were different. You felt damn near brainwashed at this point. You’d never be the same. He’d stuck himself right onto you, and no matter how badly you wanted him off, he wasn’t leaving. 

You scrubbed at your palm until your hand was raw, Tex being the one to walk over to the sink and turn off the water. You dared a glance up at him, looking through your lashes. His eyebrows were drawn together in confusion at your odd behavior. You did this every now and again. It was almost as though you were too stuck in your own mind to really understand what was going on around you. This was one of those times. 

“You’re gonna make yourself bleed, honey.” He took your palm in his hand, covering it with his unstained fingers. 

You dared to look up at him, taking in his face against the black inky locks that hung down around him. You had smoothed the hair off of his face and neck so as to not stain him. You weren’t sure why you had been so gentle and considerate with him, but you had been. You weren’t sure if you regretted it either. He didn’t look half bad with black hair, and that made you want to rub at your skin even harder. If anything he still looked just as great. His eyes were such a vibrant shade of blue now that you found it hard to look away. If someone wanted to paint Tex, all they needed to do was grab a true shade of blue and mix it with a little white- they were so pretty that it was unnatural. 

You snatched your hand out of his grip, clearing your throat before backing out of the room. You needed to escape and fast. Something registered in his eyes. They widened a bit, his lips parting in silent shock. You wanted to play dumb. You wanted to ask him what had his stupid jaw on the floor, but you knew that he had made a vital, fucking dangerous realization. 

He finally realized that you were attracted to him. 

Not just in passing, but as someone that you were beginning to enjoy being around. The kind of attraction that often resulted in dating in the normal, real world. You didn’t want to give him any time to mull over it either. If Tex said something to you, you weren’t sure whether or not you could answer him without sacrificing a vital part of yourself. The part of yourself that had been keeping you safe the last few weeks. The part of yourself that had shielded you from the fact that no one had come looking for you on the ranch. No one probably thought that you were really gone. Was your mother worried that you hadn’t called? Did your father even really care? 

You sat in the bedroom alone for the next fifteen minutes, pacing back and forth next to the bed. Now that the shower was running, you knew that he would be unable to stop you from looking through his things. Your fear of being caught had been too great up until this point, but the self loathing made you bold. Most of his drawers were filled with pants, jackets, and shirts. You riffled through them and found nothing out of the ordinary. His bedside table was a little more exciting, but only because you had found drugs. He had a few novels shoved in, along with what you knew had to be tabs of acid. It wasn’t until you ducked your head underneath the bed that you finally found what you had been expecting to find all along. 

That revolver along with box after box of ammunition. Your hands shook as you reached under the bed to grab the weapon, swallowing thickly as you held it up in front of you to get a better look at it. This was the same one that Tex had pointed at you the day that he took you. It was odd to see it up close, and even more odd that you were the one holding it. Not once in your life had you ever shot a gun, but you could probably find out through trial and error. How hard could it be, right?

 There were other weapons underneath his bed that made your heart pound. Ropes and knives among other things that you couldn’t bear to stare at for too long. But then, further back, there was a shoebox that felt out of place amongst the other things. Setting the gun down you reached out, biting your lip as you dragged it out from underneath the bed as well, looking anxiously at the bathroom door. You were past the point of feeling guilty for prying. You tossed the lid off, your face paling instantaneously. Pictures. Pictures of your old kitchen, living room, and bedroom. You were in every single one, either smiling at something one of the girls had said or busying yourself with a task. Most of the photos weren’t so innocent though. No- There were pictures of you naked in front of your bedroom window, getting ready for bed. Your breasts were on full display as you looked out the window. You remembered those nights. You remembered how uncomfortable you had felt in your own home, almost as though someone was watching you. You tore the photos out, flipping through them with trembling fingers. What was underneath the photos was worse. Ten times worse. A hundred times worse. 

Panties. Panties that you had worn and thrown into the dirty clothes weeks ago, only for them to go missing. You let out a small whimper when you grabbed a pair, holding them up in front of you just to check. Just to see if he had done anything. You regretted it the second that you saw the stain. “Oh my god. . .” You threw them back into the box, pushing the pictures under the bed with hurried hands. 

There it was. The truth. All laid out in front of you. 

Maybe he wasn’t ever going to kill you, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t a killer. If the cops came out here looking for him, you were sure that you’d be roped in with the lot of them. You would be seen as nothing more than another one of those hippies that runs off and joins a cult. You stood up and off of the ground, the gun still clasped tightly in your hand. You were shaking so badly that you weren’t sure how you were even able to keep hold of the thing. Has anything he told you about himself been the truth, or had he been lying this entire time? Spinning this huge web of stories just to catch you, waiting until you were completely tangled up just to sink his fangs into you. Were you hyperventilating? Were you crying? You slapped a hand against your cheek, wiping at the soft skin there. Sure enough you were in full blown hysterics. 

Here it was. The long awaited mental breakdown. 

Had you really been sleeping in a house with murderers this entire time? Sitting at the dinner table and breaking fucking bread with them all? You stumbled over towards the bedroom door, creaking it open to pop your head out and listen out for Charlie and his other followers. Someone was playing an acoustic guitar downstairs, all of them probably reading the bible and coming up with more religious nonsense to fuel their evil intentions. You let your eyes flicker to the bannister just down the hall that led out to the kitchen, trying to map out just how long it would take you to sneak your way through the kitchen door. You’d gone through that creaky door enough to know that everyone in the house would hear it open. You’d have to outrun men who had far longer legs than you. Even with the gun, you weren’t quite sure you could make it down the mountain to your home, or even to the main road. 

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” You gasped so loudly that you nearly coughed, your heart rattling in your chest as you swung around, pointing the gun out with a trembling hand. 

Tex was drying his hair with a towel, his bell bottoms hanging low on his waist, the front unzipped to reveal the hem of his briefs. His plush lips pulled down into a frown as he raised his hands up in surrender. He didn’t look scared. Didn’t look angry. He looked annoyed and exasperated, like he had caught his child sticking their little nose into something that they shouldn’t have. He popped his hip out, putting his weight on one leg as he shook his head back and forth. 

“S’ya were goin’ through my things?” He looked around you at the open door, letting out a small sigh before he took a step forward. You put your finger on the trigger as he began walking closer, your jaw dropping as he rolled his eyes. 

“Stop! I’ll do it. I-I’ll shoot!” Without a second thought he gripped the barrel of the gun, easily angling it upwards and towards the ceiling as he boxed you in with his tall body, pushing the door closed behind you. 

You tried to jerk the gun out of his grasp, but he held on tight, not budging at all. You were boxed in against the door, his hand still pressed against the wood behind you. He leaned in close, his breath fanning over your face as he spoke. “You ain’t gonna do nothin’, lil lady.” 

It wasn’t a challenge. It wasn’t him mocking you. He was saying that he knew that you didn’t have what it takes to hurt him. Sure, you would have been able to shoot and injure him at such short range if you had the guts to actually pull the trigger. There was a chance that if you had shot him that you might have killed him, but there was also the large possibility that you might have missed. The gun was shaking like crazy in your grasp, never once being aimed at any of his vital points. Factually, if the gun had gone off he might have been fine. He also knew you better than you knew yourself. You wouldn’t hurt him. No. . . no. . . not when you liked him so much. 

He gently removed the gun from your grasp, letting out a small sigh as he tossed it onto the dresser with a loud thunking noise. He raked his hands through his soaking wet hair and dropped the towel so that he could give you his full attention. If you had snuck your little ass out of here while he was in the shower? His heart was pounding as he thought about what might have happened. If someone hurt you in the process of your escape, he’d annihilate the entire family without a second thought. He had enough ammunition beneath his bed to start a war. 

Because Tex would have rather died than ever actually hurt you. He couldn’t even imagine your pretty little body completely still, utterly unmoving. The mere idea of you dying, even at the hands of fate, had him nearly doubling over. He could see the way that you eyed the revolver that he had on his dressing table. Your overly tired brain was trying to string together some sort of plan to overpower him in order to get your hands on the weapon. He could practically see the cogs turning. Even if you did succeed in killing him, there was no promise that you would make it off of the ranch alive. Tex had already put himself in the line of fire when he had decided to save you. His own neck was on the chopping block now, and he knew with surety that the other member’s of this cursed family were looking for any reason to slit his throat while he slept. Dying for you, especially after all of the wrong that he had done in his life, seemed like a pretty good way to go. If you killed him before he could get you off of that mountain and as far away from California as he could get you, then you’d be next. A simple revolver, buck knife, and whatever else Tex had in his room wasn’t going to save you from Charlie’s wrath. You were severely outskilled and outnumbered. 

“How about we play a game?” Tex watched you flinch at the sudden sound of his deep voice, your eyes widening as you watched him cross the room to grab the gun. You were quick to back up into the bedside table, arm reaching behind you for something to grab onto. The sight of him holding the gun so nonchalantly by his side reminded you of just how many people might have met their maker at the other end of that thing. Your breath came out of you in deep pants, your legs growing wobbly beneath you as you yanked up the glass lamp, the plug sparking as it was roughly ripped from the wall. 

Tex was quick to hold the hand that had the gun clasped in it in front of you, his fingers off of the trigger. His other arm was out in surrender. He didn’t need you getting glass on the floor unnecessarily, especially if it meant that you might end up cutting yourself by accident. “Hey- hey there, little lady. I’m not gonna hurt you. See?” He opened the chamber, letting the bullets spill out into his hand. The cold metal rattled, and slowly you inched forward, leaning a few inches closer to him so that you could make sure that he wasn’t trying to take you for some sort of fool. 

“Look, honey. I’ve taken all the bullets out.” As if to prove his point the man slapped his palm against the barrel, it clicking back in place. He pulled back the hammer of the gun, aiming it to the ceiling. Click. Shoot. Click. Shoot. Click. Shoot. Nothing. No sheets of plaster rained down on you. No deafening shot echoed through the room. He really had removed all of the bullets. He smiled that straight, white smile at you as he watched your shoulders relax. You refused to die here. You couldn’t do it. You were a nervous wreck, your emotions all over the place. You were so used to men treating you roughly. The no good sort of men that Tex made look like babies. 

The man standing before you, his newly black dyed hair still soaking wet and dripping onto his shoulders, confused you. It was so easy to despise him. He had stalked you with the purpose of killing you. Him forcing you to come with him up to the ranch did you no favors either. He tried to convince you that you were safe with him, but you could hear the other murderers downstairs even now, their loud whoops and laughter making your chest burn and your blood go hot. It was easy to hate him for everything that he had done. He had murdered people, and you weren’t even sure how many. He had ripped your life away from you in the blink of an eye, and tried to manipulate you into believing that it was for the greater good. What you absolutely couldn’t stand was the fact that it was working. Maybe it was because your past relationships with men had shaped and molded you to be the perfect candidate for manipulation. Tex was a horrible person, and he had turned your life completely upside down without any permission to do so. He had taken almost every bit of your free will from you, not allowing you to make your own decisions. 

But no one had ever loved you the way that Tex presumably did. No one had ever looked at you the way that he looked at you. 

“What kind of game?” Your mouth felt like it was going numb, your hip still pressed hard into his bedside table, the lamp clutched in your hand. 

His blue eyes looked startling against his black hair. It was unreal how vibrant they were. They flickered down to your hand, staring at the lamp before he motioned towards his hand that held the bullets with a nod of his head. “It’s called Russian Roulette. Except this time we cut the bullshit and raise the stakes.” 

You knew that if you said no that he would drop the subject. You also knew that, as far as you could tell, that he had no intentions of ever hurting you. “Raise the stakes?” You hated that you were so naturally curious. Your heart was pounding incredibly hard in your chest. You could feel it in your throat. 

He smiled down at his boots, trying his best to hide the sly nature of it from view. He knew that he had you on the hook now that you were asking questions. “Each time we pull the trigger,” he popped a single bullet into the barrel. “And the gun doesn’t go off, we take off an article of clothing.”

You hated him. 

You also hated the fact that you couldn’t find it within yourself to truly hate him. 

Your hands shook as you placed the lamp back down on the wooden table with a clatter, your eyes flickering back up to his. “And what happens once we’re naked, huh? Why not just say that you want to see me naked. You haven’t exactly been a gentleman this entire time.” Your voice was shaking, and he seemed to take advantage of the weak tremor. He knew that all he had to do was calm you down. Lay out the facts all nice and pretty for you so that you can finally make your decision. 

“I do want to see you naked.” He didn’t miss a beat. He didn’t shy away from telling you the truth, because there would be no use in denying it. He had already confessed his feelings. He knew that you felt how stiff he was this morning, pressed up against your side. Tex might be a mass murderer, but he wasn’t a fuckin’ liar. There was very little that the blue eyed man hated more than a filthy liar. “But like I said. . . I think it’s about time that we cut the bullshit. I love chasing after you. We’ve got a fun little game goin’, the two of us.” He motioned between the two of you with the gun, his eyes twinkling as he looked at your face. “But I want you, and I know that you want me.” He took a step closer to you, and if you hadn’t already cornered yourself against the nightstand, then you would have taken a step back. 

Your hand gripped tightly onto the edge of the table, eyes widening as he crossed the room so that he could stand in front of you. He was so close that your chests were touching. The bullets clattered against the wood behind you, but he kept the gun secure in his hand. “There’s just one bullet in the cylinder.” He assured you, angling the gun so that you could see. 

Through all the niceties and gentle touches, you had never stopped reminding yourself that Tex was slightly insane. He had to be a little crazy to join Charlie. This was your first time seeing that part of him. His eyes were wild as they took in the scared expression on your face, almost like he was enjoying your fear. He liked the meek, meager little expression on your face and the way that you had cornered yourself. If only you knew the half of it. If only you knew how turned on he was just by your glassy eyes alone. He wanted to possess you, body and soul. If he could have hollowed out your bones and fit his way inside of them- he would have. 

‘Surely,’ He thought as he looked down at you. ‘No one has ever loved anyone else quite as much as I love her.’ 

“Here, I’ll teach ya how to do it.” He wrapped an arm around your waist, causing you to jump. He could feel your little heart pounding against his side, and it reminded him of a little rabbit. Jumpy, terrified, but just as adorable. “You press this button to release the cylinder,” He demonstrated for you. “And then you spin it. Don’t worry about the bullet coming out. It’s in there snug.” And then he slapped the cylinder back in place, putting the gun in your shaky palm. His large, warm hand swallowed yours up whole as he raised your arm, rubbing your finger so that he could nudge it onto the trigger. “And then you squeeze the trigger.” He raised the gun and your arm up to the side of his head. 

You could have vomited, the fear gripping you so hard that you found it hard to breathe. But there was this strange sensation- a heat pooling in your abdomen as you thought about where this all might lead. You could try to convince yourself that you wanted him to die all you wanted, but the gun against the man’s head was a terrifying sight. Being alone on this ranch would most likely have deadly consequences, but that wasn’t it. That wasn’t the reason why you were so terrified of him dying. The truth was entirely unwelcome: you liked him. God damn it, you actually liked him. 

“I’ll go first.” He stated, not a hint of fear in his eyes. He looked at you hungrily, like he could devour you whole. He pressed his finger down on yours, and in turn you were steadily putting pressure on the trigger. You wanted to say no. Wanted to scream at him to stop and that you changed your mind. You couldn’t find your voice. Your tongue felt swollen in your mouth, your eyes glassy with unshed tears. 

There was a heat pooling between your legs that you felt insanely guilty about. 

Before you knew it the trigger had been pulled completely, a soft click echoing around the silent room. He smiled brightly at you, slowly removing his hand from yours. Your arm fell limply at your side, the gun still in your hand. He had just pulled the trigger and hadn’t even flinched. He could have died, and it would have been nobody else’s fault except for his, and he didn’t seem to care. The danger seemed to rile him up. 

“Looks like I’m safe.” The jean button up shirt that he was wearing was the first article of clothing to come off. His long, nimble fingers made quick work with the buttons. 

You watched as he slipped the faded blue fabric from off of his shoulders, revealing his lean body. His skin was golden from long hours spent outside in the California sun. No matter how skinny he appeared to be in his clothes, you could tell that he was surprisingly strong. The muscles in his arms and shoulders were on full display, his prominent v-line disappearing beneath his jeans. He was beautiful. Truly beautiful. 

You hated him for that too. 

The gun suddenly felt very heavy in your hand, and you remembered that it was now your turn to go. You brought the revolver up, twisting your hand this way and that to take a good look at it. You wanted to prolong this moment. You needed to calm your pounding heart or else you feared that it might stop all together. People could die from fear, right? You sucked in a breath, nearly jumping out of your skin when Tex made a small noise right across from you. It was a breathy sounding groan that felt so out of place during a moment like this. You let your eyes flicker up to his face, noticing his flushed cheeks and parted lips. 

“That gun looks so pretty in your hands, honey.” He licked his lips, motioning towards the gun hurriedly. “Show it to me.” His voice was now barely above a whisper. 

You felt confused yet again, his reactions coming across as unnatural. Here you were, standing before him with a loaded weapon, and he was moaning at the mere sight of you. “You’re crazy.” You whispered, your hand beginning to shake as you raised the gun a little more, nearly pointing it at him. 

His lashes fluttered as he stared at your hand, taking his bottom lip between his teeth so that he could bite down on it. You nearly dropped the weapon when you watched him readjust himself in his jeans, your eyes widening as you finally realized that he was hard. He was actually getting off on all of this. You let your eyes drink in the sight of him for a few more seconds. You traced the shape of him through the pants, trying hard not to dwell on the fact that he appeared large, even through the cloth. 

Slowly, never taking your eyes off of him, you did as you were taught. Your finger pressed against the cylinder release, gave it a good spin, and then slapped it back into place. Tex seemed tense as he watched the cylinder spin, but relaxed when he noticed something that your eyes didn’t. Your hand shook as you brought the gun to your head and pulled back the hammer. 

“You're safe, baby. I wanna see you do it. Pull the trigger.” 

You hated that you trusted him so implicitly. You squeezed down on the trigger, squeezing your eyes shut as your heart continued to pound away in your chest. The clicking sound echoed in your ears, your arm limply falling to your side as the damn near euphoric relief spread through you. It fizzled hot in your blood like champaign, setting every nerve ablaze. At the sight of your heaving chest Tex took a step closer to you, reaching out for the gun. He licked his lips hungrily as he stared at you, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he took in your relieved expression. The flush on your cheeks was adorable. He took the gun from your shocked form, giving you a few seconds to recuperate before he reminded you of the rules. 

You just stood there staring at him, bubble gum lips parted as you sucked in air. You looked like a deer in headlights, and he wanted to devour you. The need to touch you, any part of you was overwhelming. It had been for weeks. Some nights he only pretended to sleep, just so that he could press himself against you. Feel the gentle rise and fall of your chest under his hand. He wanted to rip you to shreds only to put you back together again, piece by piece. Tex’s adams apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly, clenching his jaw as he tried to show restraint. You hadn’t turned him down yet. Not today at least. You wanted this. You were okay with this. 

He had you and he was never going to lose you. He’d keep you locked up and tied down if he had to. And if you ever happened to get away from him, he’d find you. Ohh. . . he’d find you. 

You jerked back in shock as you felt the cold barrel of the gun press against your belly, Tex using it to push the fabric up. You’d been too busy staring at him to remember the rules of the game. Now it was your turn to remove something. 

“Off.” Was all he said, his eyes burning holes into your body. 

You gripped the bottom of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head before tossing it onto the ground. You wanted to hide yourself away from him once you realized that you weren’t wearing a bra. You started to cover yourself up, but stopped as Tex merely shook his head. Don’t hide from me. 

 It was nothing he hadn’t already seen though. The pictures. 

The reminder of them made your stomach tighten, the heat between your legs becoming more prominent. Your face heated up in shame as you finally gave in. You surrendered to the full truth of it all. You couldn’t hide or run from it any longer. There was no escaping it anymore. 

Tex’s devotion turned you on. Tex’s obsession made you feel loved and taken care of and you wanted to fuck him. You’d been attracted to him this entire time, too blinded by your own fear to realize that you were fucked up enough to develop feelings. Maybe it was familial trauma. Maybe it was all of the bad dates you’d been subjected to. Or maybe it was just you. Either way, there it was. All out in the open for you. You weren’t nearly as insane as Tex. You were no killer. You didn’t have it in you to hurt a fly, but his hands were capable. 

He was big and strong. He could protect you. He was begging to let you relinquish your control and let him look after you. You’d never been looked after in your life, and yet here he was, looking at you like you were the messiah. You watched those big, capable hands clench into fists as he took you in. He was trying not to touch you. 

“As soon as you give me the word. . . i’m going to eat you alive.” Those blue eyes were pinning you down, narrowed and heavy and so full of adoration. 

You could feel your slick already pooling in your underwear, your eyes fluttering closed for just a second as you tried to ground yourself. You had to stay steady. You had to play this game with him for just a little longer. He was practically vibrating with need and you wanted to test him. Wanted to see him fall apart before he absolutely destroyed the last bit of sanity you were clinging to. 

He pressed the button, spun the cartridge all while watching it closely and then slammed it closed. He pressed the barrel right back up to his temple, pulling the trigger without flinching. Without blinking. 

“Are ya gonna let me have it?” You couldn’t fully process what he was asking you, just that his accent was sexy and his voice was so deep that it was vibrating in his chest. 

“H-Have what?” You licked your lips, not missing the way he followed your tongue with his eyes. 

He might as well have already been inside of you. Your knees were already starting to buckle and he hadn’t even touched you yet. 

“Your body,” He handed you the gun, pulling his already undone jeans off of his legs. “I already own your soul, but I want it all. I want ya so bad that I nearly came in my pants just seein’ your tits. So are ya gonna give it to me now, or are ya gonna make me wait longer? Cause I can’t take it anymore, darlin’. I can’t keep lovin’ ya the way that I do and not fuck ya.” 

Your eyes flickered back down to his crotch, your mouth filling with saliva as you noticed how hard he was. You could make out the exact shape of him, his length uncomfortably trapped beneath his tight briefs. He was gorgeous. Absolutely perfect. 

And you didn’t answer at first. 

Instead you just played the game. You pressed the button. You spun the cartridge while he watched closely. You slammed it back in place and then you pressed it against your temple. “Let me touch you. Fuck. . . Please let me just touch you.” Click. 

You tossed the gun onto the bed, unbuttoning your own bell bottoms and pulling them down and off of your legs. You kicked them away from you, nodding your head towards the gun so that he would feel inclined to continue himself. He was in disbelief. Not only were you playing along but you seemed to be liking it just as much as he was. How could someone be as perfect as you were? How could you be real? He scooped the gun back up, knowing that there was just one more thing he had left to take off. 

“If I take these off, will you add them to your little collection?” His eyes flickered down to your panties. The pretty pink bow. The lacy red fabric. He turned his attention towards the other side of the bed, realizing that you must have seen every secret that he kept hidden in his room. This turned him on even more. His hips involuntarily jutted forward, meeting nothing but air. 

“F-Fuck. . .” He didn’t have words. He wanted to tease you and make it harder on you, but he could barely function. He was beginning to get scared that if you did let him touch you, that he might hurt you. He might lose himself completely. Tex didn’t mind though. You owned him. He was all yours. 

And so he went through the motions one last time. Button, spin, and shoot. He watched to make sure that he was safe from the bullet, pulling the trigger that one last time. He didn’t let go of the gun this time when he shrugged off his underwear, his cock springing loose. He watched you take him in. You drank in the sight of him, the poor thing practically throbbing with need. He was bigger than anyone else you’d ever been with, and a part of you worried whether or not you’ll actually be able to comfortably take him. His angry red tip was weeping with pre cum, his underwear slick and stained with it as he licked it away from him. That was all it took. 

“Please.” And your voice sounded so small. So pathetic. So broken. 

He lurched forward, his muscles already tense and ready to attack. His lips pressed against yours so hard that you thought that your top lip might be bleeding. The free hand that wasn’t holding the gun gripped the side of your head, holding you to him as he forced his tongue into your mouth, his teeth gently knocking against yours as he opened his mouth to absorb your shaky breaths. Your mouths moved in sync, his lips as pillow soft as you expected them to be. He smelled so good fresh out of the shower, his warm hands all over you, cold drops of hair falling onto your shoulders as he pressed your bare chests against one another. He couldn’t be close enough. You bit his bottom lip, your eyes fluttering open just so that you could see him only to find that he was already watching you with half lidded eyes. He moaned into your mouth as he realized that he had been caught. The guttural sound, the smell of him as well as the way that he tasted was enough to make you bite down harder on his lower lip, his hips jerking forward as he grunted in pain. You could taste blood. 

His blood. 

You licked that up to, hands gripping at anything you could reach. 

You felt something press into the hem of your panties, shivering against the cold metal as he brought the gun down further and further. He pressed the barrel against your heat, rubbing and nudging, stimulating you. You gasped loudly as you became aware of the fact that he was touching you with the gun. He stopped his movement against your clit only for a second, using the gun to slip your panties to the side. You felt it now against your bare skin, sliding against your soaking core. 

“You’re so wet… are you turned on by this, darlin’? Are you just as fucked up as I am?” All you could do was moan, letting him hug you tighter against him as he spoke into your hair. “I’m gonna fuck you and make you mine. Rub my cum all over you, that way everyone will know you belong to me.” You nodded, your cheek rubbing against his stumbled chin as you began working your hips against the gun. 

“So needy. You wanna be filled, honey? Want me to fill you up?” You could feel the barrel of the gun stretching you as he pushed it further and further inside. He was fucking you with a gun. 

This man was fucking you with a gun. 

You mewled as you moved your hips, your legs buckling beneath you as he continued his attack. Again and again he pushed it up inside of you, watching your face intently as he held you closer against his chest. He held up most of your weight as you leaned into him. He loved seeing your soft features pinched, eyes pinched shut, hips moving against his hand in a desperate search for release. He needed you. Needed you now. 

Inside inside inside. 

He tossed the gun somewhere onto the bed, his hands shaking like a mad as he tore the panties down your lips. You heard the fabric tear in his haste, already crawling onto the bed in an attempt to have him in you. You couldn’t deny him anymore. You couldn’t stop yourself. 

“Oh god, I love you.” He thrust in, not giving you even a second. Not letting you take him inch by inch. He was ripping you apart. Stretching you out. Molding him to the shape of his dick. You cried out, moving forward as if to get away from him. The pressure in your abdomen was insane. You could practically feel him in your stomach. Your attempts at escaping him only spurred him on more though, his hips slamming into you, making you take all of him. Forcing you to take it all. 

And you wanted it. Every inch. 

The pleasure and pain all blended into white hot passion. It was impossible to deny the chemistry between the two of you now. There was no getting rid of it anymore. 

“I’m gonna fuck my cum so deep inside of you. Do you want me to get you pregnant? Fucking ruin you so that you’ll be stuck with me.” And you didn’t know why you were nodding but you were. He was just fucking into you so well, hitting that same spot inside of you again and again. The spot that had you seeing stars. 

His hands moved up to your breasts, his touch so hot that he was practically scalding you. His fingers pinched at your nipples as he continued to point into you. The pleasure was too much. It felt too good. All of this had been building for weeks now. It was almost as though all of that had been foreplay. Every touch. Every heated stare. All of it. 

“Say it. I wanna hear you tell me that you’re mine.” He was talking through clenched teeth now, still slamming into you. He yanked your head up by your throat, wanting to look in your eyes. Wanting to see your lovely lips shape the words. 

“I-I’m yours!” His hips stuttered, his loud moan only spurring you on. “I’m yours Tex. All yours. Please- please!” You weren’t even sure what you were begging for. The pleasure was building though, ready to snap. 

“Give it to me. Cum- I want to feel you milk my cock. That’s a good lil girl. Come on.” 

It was at his urging that you let go. Almost on command. Your muscles tensed, your eyes rolled back, and you could barely breathe. You must have called out his name. Must have screamed because he was fucking you even harder, panting in your ear as he pressed you down further into the mattress. 

“That’s it, honey. Keep sayin’ my name. I want everyone downstairs to hear. Fuck, don’t stop.” So you didn’t. He ripped the orgasm straight out of you, chasing his own like a madman. 

He came with something akin to a roar, his sweat slick arm wrapping around your throat, cutting off your airway as he hugged you tighter to him. You could feel his length twitching inside of you. Pumping you full. Giving you every drop. He fucked you through it, pushing the cum in as deep as he could. 

He stilled after a while, gathering himself for a second before he pulled out, resting his hand against the mattress as he climbed over you on top of the bed. He was still panting hard when you finally found enough strength to turn over and face him. 

He was back to looking like an angel again. 

Wet hair sticking to his sticky cheeks, lips red and kiss swollen, and eyes glassy. He looked at you like you were God. And to him you were. 

Your love was like god. Wholly. Infinite. 

And all his.

special special special thanks to my sweet lil sluts. once again, they assisted emotionally with this fic and even beta read a few chunks! I heard russian roulette with tex and here it is. . . @babylovepresley @powerofelvis @ggwritesstuff @woundmetender @eliseinmemphis @polksalademma @flwrs4aust @headfullofpresley @cryingabtab @austinbutlersbaby @lindszeppelin @rosaminny

@knoxvillesshoes@cosmorant@ol1viam@simply-sams-things@haim80s@gabbcabb@8hgel@slutt4him@busy-bee-angel-misska@kaitaesupremacy@dazedshoon @4rt3m1ss@cryingabtab@kittenlittle24@austinsrealgf@austinbutlersgirlfriend@clearbolts @dark-as-love@anni-secret-account-75@ab4eva@starcatchxr @julietamidala @obbsessivereader@gwuide@blurredcolour@the-little-red-haired-girl@meladollsims@poppet05@shrekstheloml@randomwriter888@idc123sworld@vane28282@mirandastuckinthe80s@girlblogger2002@rockerchick05@screechingstrawberrysong@simpforevery1@girlabirla@dre6ming@obetrolncocktails@fairyjanes@jensenswinchester@lo-bells @in-my-body-bag@fxntxsix@petrparkrslut@eliseinmemphis @lelifesaver @screaching-cookie@fantuhsise@areuirish @bcofl0ve@mslizziesblog@shynovelist@ssstrangersblog @harrysthecraic@hangmanswhore@jyvnho@mymamalife @melodydior

[very-straight-blog]

I’m just glad that they didn’t make Gwayne a joke, a coward or a bad knight/fighter.

I feared that was the direction they were headed in because he did get a bad introduction like most of team green gets in this ham fisted ass show. His racism towards Criston, (which is weird because both Otto and Alicent aren’t racist? She didn’t raise racist children either) and then making such a rookie stupid decision disobeying Criston’s command because he wanted to stay in an inn and sleep in a bed (which was a illogical writing choice as if he- a knight, has never “cowboy” camped before in his life. As if he would not have come across vast areas of land without castles and inns in his long journey to Kingslanding that started off in the area of the country known for it’s agriculture.) but he hasn’t been turned into a complete caricature in the show.

He’s turning out to be the most level headed and rational character on both teams because he’s been so far removed from their court politics and the insane game they’ve all been playing for decades.

As for racism, I think I have a slightly different mentality, the problem of racism is not so acute in my country, so I don't pay attention to some things. I literally found out that this moment is considered problematic here on Tumblr. As for his desire to stay at the inn - yes, it wasn't very rational, but it seemed to fit well into the character that had formed in my head. In any case, I really think that at the moment he is the most reasonable and generally adequate character of both teams. Funny, smart, kind of like a decent knight. I love him. He's also red-haired, and I have a weakness for red-haired people.

[folkwhore1998]

I had a feeling so peculiar, that this pain would be for...evermore

Evermore!!!

Amazing! How lucky are we to live in a world where we get to experience evermore. Imagine being bored in quarantine and being able to just create an incredible work of art.

(in my opinion) We did not get an evermore long pond studio sessions because of the editing on folklore versus evermore. folklore had some vocal editing that didn't capture her voice the way evermore does. go listen to august on folklore and then august on LPSS. numerous songs on folklore have that editing style, but nothing on evermore does.

Evermore is so beautiful and one of my favorite aesthetics. Evermore is a late November-December vibe. I wonder how many songs Taylor actually made during quarantine. Do you think that evermore are the vault tracks from folklore? (As in the songs that just did not quite make it onto folklore)

I actually had a very hard time ranking these songs. I didn't really think I was going to have as hard of a time as I did. I have a pretty consistent ranking of the albums in general and evermore is pretty high up there, but maybe it should move up on the ladder because these songs are just so beautiful.

happiness is an incredibly emotional song that people seem to skip all of the time. In my personal experience, when I've been in long term relationships, I almost become disconnected with the version of who I was prior. When I've broken up these long term relationships, I've have to leave it all behind to rediscover the happiness we held before them. When I've felt so much pain from loss, I can get so blinded by the fact at one point in my life, a person or situation may have been good for me, in a black and white thinking sense. happiness has honestly helped me process hurt and loss, and has helped me to lean into the idea not everything has to be black and white. No one talks about it enough.

I really need to address the performance of evermore on the eras tour. Literal chills. It was one the best live performances she has ever done. I need a live version released on Spotify BIBLICALLY. I wish it would have made the cut for the eras tour movie.

evermore (the song) was one i kind of looked over for awhile. I honestly could not put my finger on what it was for me. After hearing Taylor Swift perform it live at the eras tour... my entire brain chemistry changed. I'm not even being dramatic. It was breathtaking and I cannot believe how quiet the crowd was in all of the videos i have come across. I love that there is a collective agreement that everyone was fucking stunned at how incredible it was.

Here are my rankings of evermore:

marjorie

coney island

happiness

right where you left me

evermore if it is taylor only

tis the damn season

champagne problems

tolerate it

long story short

it's time to go

willow

evermore if it is with bon iver and taylor

gold rush

ivy

dorethea

closure

no body no crime

cowboy like me

HONORABLE MENTIONS:

CHILLS.

I am so surprised that this marjorie made it onto the setlist, but I am so happy it did.

So eloquent- actually the first time I am seeing this.

Check out some of these awesome small businesses on Etsy!

Here is a cutting board with Taylor's chai cookie recipe: Chai cookies just have such an evermore vibe. I gotta get my hands on one of these!

Here is the link to a cowboy like me necklace: Forever is the sweetest con.

@taylornation @taylorswift

[separatist-apologist]

Cowboy Like Me

Never thought I'd meet you here

Summary: When Nesta is stranded in rural Montana, she finds herself rescued by an unlikely pair.

Day 1 of @sjmromanceweek: Meet-Cute

Also, check out this art of Cowboy Cassian from @melphss

Read on AO3

Nesta was in hell. 

Who got married in Montana? Montana seemed like the sort of place you exiled people to die in lonely misery. She didn’t give a fuck about all the open sky, the clean air, or the nature that quite literally ambled up to her rental car looking for a snack. Nesta wasn’t built for this sort of life and maybe it said something about her that she couldn’t imagine anyone else who was.

She’d made a mistake, though. When she’d rented her airbnb, she’d just assumed it was an actual home, like the pictures had depicted, and not some ramshackle hovel with a literal hole in the ground for shitting.

For fifty dollars a night, she supposed she deserved that. Nesta thought that maybe she also deserved her twisted ankle. Heels on a gravel road had been an obvious mistake—was she supposed to go barefoot? She hadn’t brought anything else. Nesta emitted a soft scream of hatred for this new, cheerful place before propping herself up on the hood of her car to look at her swelling ankle.

All this for a wedding. The minute Nesta managed to get back into her car, she was going to book a flight home and block this friend forever. Why was she even trying to have friends outside of Gwyn and Emerie, besides? Nesta maneuvered her phone from her black skirt pocket only to find that of fucking course she didn’t have service.

She screamed again, irate with the whole endeavor.

“All right, ma’am?” a masculine voice called. Nesta whipped her head to the side of the long, gravel drive, intending to give that busybody man the middle finger for his trouble.

She hesitated. To start, the man in question was astride a large black horse. She had no quick comeback for a man who was pulling towards her shiny red sedan like he’d stepped straight out of eighteen forty six. 

He swung one of his long, powerful legs off the creature with ease, revealing himself to be at least six foot-five. Nesta had never considered herself a small woman, standing at five-nine without heels, but as he approached, his rough stubbled face hidden beneath the brim of his cowboy hat, Nesta felt positively dainty. 

He swept his hat off his head and Nesta wished he hadn’t. Holding it against the blue and green flannel of his shirt, he was like something out of a magazine ad for country living. Warm brown skin, hazel eyes, and dark brown hair that fell to his shoulders was a lethal combination on this man. His chiseled jaw, the stubble grazing his cheeks, and his rough features made Nesta think he had no trouble picking up women.

And that irked her, even as she swallowed with desire. He was absurdly stunning, the absolute dream of anyone hoping to marry a cowboy from a long-forgotten age. Those eyes of his, framed with ridiculously long lashes, swept over her, and then her surroundings.

“Tricked, huh?” he asked in a rich, deep drawl. “You wouldn’t be the first. Won’t be the last.”

“Someone should burn this place to the ground,” she hissed, one hand still gripping her hurt ankle. 

He chuckled. “I don’t think that would stop someone from tryin’ to sell it. You hurt?” he added, his eyes falling on her ankle. 

“I twisted my foot,” she admitted. He knelt, the sight emptying out all of Nesta’s thoughts. She could only stare at his thighs, bulging in his tight jeans. His hand was large enough to wrap fully around her ankle, and ever so slowly, he pulled her foot from her scuffed black heel.

“This is your problem,” he said, holding up her shoe with a frown. 

“Well I know that now,” Nesta hissed, “you must be a psychic.”

His eyes flashed. “Can you drive?”

“No,” she admitted, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I wouldn’t go around insultin’ the only person who can help…but that’s just me,” he replied. 

Nesta hesitated. “Are you a doctor?”

He snorted, rising to his feet again. His large, muscular body blocked the bright sun the way a tree might, and Nesta couldn’t pretend she wasn’t grateful.

“Cattle rancher,” he replied, “but I know a thing or two about tapin’ up a sprain. We’ll get you iced up and bandaged and on your way Miss…”

She sighed. “Nesta Archeron,” she half grumbled.

“Miss Archeron—”

“Nesta. Don’t be ridiculous.”

He smiled, setting her heart racing. “Miss Nesta, then. I’m Cassian, and I’m walkin’ towards you real slow because I don’t want to spook you.”

“Why would you—put me down right now!”

He shook his head. “And let you finish breakin’ what you started? No offense, darlin’, but carrying you is a lot safer than letting you hop on the horse—”

“Why can’t we drive?”

He looked down at her, his amusement plain. “And what would I do with Bryaxis?”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Nesta breathed, gripping Cassian’s neck until her nails dug into his skin. “I’ve never been on a horse.”

“He doesn’t bite,” Cassian replied. “I’ll be right behind you.”

She couldn’t help her squeal as he hoisted her up into the fine leather saddle. Nesta’s bare thighs touched the material, spreading her legs obscenely, though Cassian didn’t seen to notice or care. He merely swung himself up behind her. He put one hand on her hip, the warmth seeping through her silken skirt, before reaching for the reins.

“What were you doing out here, anyway?”

He nodded towards a saddle bag. “Needed a few things in town.

“And you took a horse?” she replied, trying to imagine where he’d even park it.

Cassian’s laugh rumbled through his chest. “Where are you from, Miss Nesta?”

“Chicago,” she replied, well aware she was proving every city slicker stereotype true. “Have you ever been?”

She felt him shrug. “Nope. I’ve been to cities before, but not so far south.

So far south. Nesta didn’t know how to respond to that. “You’re not missing much, honestly.”

“No? Is Chicago not home sweet home?”

It was Nesta’s turn to shrug. “It’s where I live.”

If he had thoughts about that, Cassian kept them to himself. That was just as well—Nesta didn’t want to fight some stranger when she was currently on his horse, unable to even run. He’d left her shoes on top of her car and her suitcase in the trunk. Nesta was literally at his mercy, given the small, two-lane road they were currently traveling down had no hint of civilization besides the two of them. 

She’d done such a shitty job picking an airbnb. 

“What are you doin’ up here, then?” he asked after a moment. His voice had the most pleasant gravel, deep and dark like a star-flecked sky. Nesta knew she was leaning against the broad plain of his chest and found she didn’t care. 

“My friend is getting married,” she said. “I guess her fiance grew up out here.”

“Oh yeah?” he replied, an obvious smile in his voice. “Married on a ranch?”

Nesta twisted in her saddle. “Don’t you dare—”

“Lots of people rent out my barn on the edge of the property. You can stay up with me, if you need a place. I’ll charge you a real fair price.”

She rolled her eyes. “What’s that?”

“You ever mucked out a stall, Miss Nesta?”

She poked him in the ribs, turning back to face the endless expanse of cloudless blue. “Is that your thing, then? Humbling the city girl by making her clean up shit?”

“Maybe I think you’d be real pretty with a little mud on your face.”

Nesta swallowed. “I don’t do mud,” she said, looking at her immaculate nails.

“What do you do, then?” Why did he sound so suggestive? Nesta’s hands were clammy–nervous. When had a man ever had that effect on her? 

“Law,” she told him. “Corporate law.”

He made some soft, noncommittal noise that was, honestly, a lot better than a lot of the finance men she dated. Cassian acknowledged he’d heard her without feeling the need to cut her down in service of his own ego. 

“I don’t know much about that,” he finally admitted. Nesta could have kissed him for it, though she wouldn’t. 

“It’s pretty boring,” she said, earning another of his soft noises.

“I don’t believe that for a minute,” he replied. “You don’t strike me as the type to spend your time sufferin’.”

“Well…I do get to humble really rich men with a fair amount of regularity,” she admitted with a smile. His grip on her waist tightened. 

“That’s what I thought,” he murmured, his breath fanning against the back of her neck. She shivered, unintentionally leaning further into him. She was acting like a cat in heat over a man she’d known for fifteen minutes.

“I’ll pay,” she breathed. Behind her, Cassian went stiff.

“Pay?”

“For a room,” she clarified, wondering what he was thinking. “If you were serious about your offer, I’d pay you for it.”

“Oh, darlin’, there’s no need for that. Just a little hel—”

“I told you I don’t do dirt,” she snapped. “You can have money or nothing at all.”

“I’m not takin’ your money,” Cassian drawled. “Just keep after yourself and don’t disturb the cats.”

Her heart stuttered. “Cats?”

“Yeah. My girl just had kittens and she’s real skittish, so if you see her, be real quiet and soft.”

Nesta could have died. “What's her name?”

She wanted a cat so badly. Her landlord expressly forbade any animals at all, and Nesta was too much of a rule follower to risk a secret cat. The thought of spending three days surrounded by a mama cat and her little kittens seemed like heaven.

“Cheddar,” Cassian admitted ruefully. “She’s orange. Dad must be black, though, because half her little beans are black, too.”

A soft squeak slipped from Nesta’s throat. “Do they have names?”

“Not yet. Maybe you’ll help me out with that,” he added with what sounded suspiciously like hope. 

She didn’t dare unpack that. Not as Cassian pulled off the road, steering his steady horse down another gravel path. Untouched grass stretched for miles in every direction until the sky met mountains in the distance. 

“Your friends will be down there,” Cassian told her, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. Accident, she swore, watching the point of his finger. “But we’ll be up here. I’ll walk you down for the wedding…keep you from wreckin’ that other pretty ankle of yours.”

“Does that work on the women around here? Your folksy charm, your aw shucks—”

Cassian laughed. “Are you askin’ if being nice gets me laid?”

“Does it?”

“My good looks get me laid, darlin’.  My folksy charm, as you so eloquently put it, is just called manners outside of the city. No need to pretend.”

“You’d be surprised,” she told him dryly. Cassian merely held her close, his eyes fixated on the two story ranch just in the distance. Nesta could have wept with relief. The saddle was rubbing against her inner thigh, chafing her delicate skin and the woodsy scent of smoke and pine coming off Cassian was threatening to throw all Nesta’s good sense out the window. 

His home sprawled against the Montana countryside. Built to look as if it was made of wood—and maybe it was, for all she knew—the house had to be worth a cool million in Nesta’s estimation. She didn’t dare look over her shoulder at him, though. Didn’t dare acknowledge she knew this man wasn’t the simple, rural cattle rancher he was trying to embody. 

And Nesta certainly didn’t let him see that she was weirdly relieved. She liked an ambitious man. And unlike all the men she’d been dating back home, Cassian wasn’t slick. Nesta would have put all the money she had on Cassian being the sort who had his heart on his sleeve for all to see. She had no business thinking about that.

This wasn’t a date.

Cassian swung off his horse and gently pulled her back into his arms.

“Don’t you go runnin’ off,” he warned Bryaxis.

“Will he?”

Cassian merely shrugged as he took her up a stone laid path towards his glass and wood front door.

“If he goes anywhere, it’ll be next door to his girlfriend.”

She couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her. “Your horse has a girlfriend?”

“He’s a good-looking horse. Why shouldn’t he have a girlfriend. I catch him all the time down by the fence nuzzlin’ her with his nose.”

“Like you, then?”

Cassian chuckled. “I am very single, Miss Nesta—”

“Just Nesta,” she interrupted, breathless as he brought her inside. “The Miss makes me feel like someone’s kindergarten teacher.”

“Fine, Nesta. I, unlike my horse, am very single.”

“Any particular reason?” she asked, wishing she sounded snide and not interested.

Cassian set her on a long, dark leather sofa, He swept his hat off his head as he knelt in front of her again. 

“You want to know why I’m single? Maybe I work too much,” he said softly, sliding her his hand up  and then back down her knee. “Maybe I’m a shitty kisser.”

“I’ll bet it’s the second,” she replied. Cassian’s hazel eyes met her own, a smirk curving over his sensual mouth.

“And you? Are you a shitty kisser?”

“Terribly deficient.”

“I figured,” he murmured, turning his gaze back to her swollen ankle. Cassian grabbed a red pillow from the corner of his couch to prop up her foot. “Why don’t you stay here and I’ll get us all set up, hm?”

“Okay.”

Cassian vanished long enough for Nesta to fire off several quiet texts and otherwise study his really nice home. The living room had a wall made of pointed windows, and though everything had that wood cabin aesthetic, it was cozy and cheerful and bright. She flipped through her work emails while she waited, dragging a knitted blanket off the back of the sofa over her lap. 

Was she insane for hanging out in a stranger's house? She would never have dared back home—her friends thought she was insane. And yet she was at the right place, and if Cassian wanted to hurt her, surely bandaging up her foot wasn’t necessary. She doubted his neighbors would have heard her scream if she stood outside and emptied her lungs of air.

Cassian returned nearly an hour later, balancing a glass of water and a plate in one massive hand, and her suitcase in the other.

“You got my things?” she asked him, surprised he’d bother. She’d assumed she’d have to hobble back out there for it.

“Of course, darlin’,” he replied, setting a nice sandwich and two ibuprofen down on the wood coffee table right in front of her. “Unless you plan on wearin’ that skirt the entire time? I don’t mind, but…”

Her cheeks flushed. “Thank you. That was really nice.”

He ducked his head. “Have somethin’ to eat before you take the medicine. You look like you haven’t had anything but coffee today. Pain killers won’t settle well on an empty stomach and while you’re cute, you’re not cute enough to clean up puke.”

Nesta was rendered speechless. That was for the best. Everytime he casually said something nice about her, Nesta was far too tempted to crawl into his lap and repay him for his generosity in a different sort of way. Instead, Nesta remained perfectly still while Cassian wrapped up her ankle with a beige colored bandage and pressed a bag of frozen green beans against the aching bone. 

“Keep this elevated,” he insisted, taking a spot close enough that Nesta could have scooted forward and put her head in his lap. She was far too tempted. 

“Want to watch something?” she suggested. “Or are you busy?”

“Not too busy for you,” he teased, reaching for the remote. “How do you feel about history?”

Their eyes met, and in unison, they said, “Ancient Aliens.”

Cassian smiled with satisfaction. “Fuck yeah.”

They wasted the afternoon that way. Nesta inched closer and closer until her head was propped up against his thigh. Cassian kept his arm casual against the back of the couch, unconcerned as they giggled their way through each new show. He didn’t stop until the sun dipped low, bathing the room in shadow.

“Want to help me make dinner?” he asked, his voice gruffer than before. She looked up at him.

“No eating out?”

His lips curved into a sly smile. “Are you asking to be eaten out?”

She smacked at his stomach, heart racing all the same. “You don’t seem like the cooking type. Isn’t that something for your little wife?”

“Are you offerin’?” he joked. “I accept. C’mon, lazy bones. At least come talk to me.”

“Does anything bother you?” Nesta asked, unconcerned when Cassian lifted her back into the air. She winced at the jolt of pain lancing through her ankle, though she couldn’t pretend she didn’t like the ease with which he carried her through his house. Cassian was careful, setting her atop a granite kitchen island so she could watch over his attempts at cooking.

“So tell me, Miss Nesta—”

“Just Nesta.”

“Nes,” he grinned. “Miss hot shot attorney. What do you think about my humble home?”

She looked around, pretending to survey with an arched eyebrow. “It’s a little rustic—”

Cassian’s fingers were between her ribs before she could stop him, tickling until she thrashed and gasped for a breath of air. 

“Stop it, stop—”

“Rustic,” he chuckled, pulling out a nice creuset pot and setting it atop the range. “You’ll have to work on your insults.”

“I think you just wanted an excuse to touch me,” Nesta replied. Cassian smiled.

“Maybe,” he conceded. “It’s not everyday a beautiful woman is waitin’ for me on the side of the road.”

“I wasn’t waiting. I was stuck.”

He shrugged. “Sure felt like you were waitin’ for me.”

“Maybe you were waiting on me.”

“Almost certainly,” Cassian agreed cheerfully. “Do you eat pasta?”

“I’ll eat anything,” Nesta agreed. Cassian nodded.

“You and me both, sweetheart.”

And God, but Nesta wanted to find out if that was true. Cassian had a box of recipes he’d inherited from his mother that he’d been more than happy to show her. While Nesta pulled the cards out one by one, Cassian made his own tomato sauce. She knew it shouldn’t have impressed her and still it did. 

He was nearly done when his cat, Cheddar, slunk into the room. Three black and orange kittens flopped just behind her, the third tumbling face first over the threshold from the hall to the tile. Nesta gasped.

“Oh my God,” she whispered.

“Where are the other four, mama?” Cassian asked his cat as she wound her way through his legs to rub against him. “What are those little demons up to?”

Nesta carefully hopped off the counter so she could scoop up one of the babies.

“Probably peeing in my boot,” Cassian grumbled, stirring his sauce with a wooden spoon. 

“Babies,” Nesta breathed, delighted when the three that had ambled in with their mother immediately bounded towards her. Her favorite, for no reason at all, was the one with the split black and orange face. She had the brightest blue eyes and when Nesta lifted her up to really look at her, the small creature meowed loudly. 

“Well now you’ve done it,” Cassian teased as Cheddar trotted over to see what the fuss was. “Be careful–mama cat has claws.”

Nesta scratched behind her ears. “Maybe for you.”

“I suppose like calls to like,” he grumbled. While he plated their food, Nesta played with the kittens until there was a snag in her skirt. Cassian offered Nesta a hand and when he pulled her up to her feet, balancing on one foot, he yanked just hard enough that she fell into his chest.

Into his lips. 

“Oh,” she whispered, unsure what to do. Cassian kept her steady with one arm, the kiss polite and chaste and just enough to make her want much, much more.

“Sorry,” he murmured, brushing a strand of her hair off her face. “Probably shouldn’t kiss the woman rentin’ one of my rooms, but…”

“It’s alright,” Nesta assured him, letting him lead her to the blocky table just outside the kitchen. It might have been awkward had Cassian not been so charming. So laid back and nice. He’d made her spaghetti and didn’t care when his cat spent the entirety of the meal winding her lithe, orange body through his feet and purring so loud Nesta felt like she was competing for his attention. 

Cassian kept the conversation going as if nothing had happened, but Nesta couldn’t get the feel of his mouth against hers out of her mind. He’d smelled crisp and clean and when her hands had pressed against his chest, he’d been all hard, toned muscle. 

“Why don’t I clean up down here, and you can get settled in your room?” Cassian suggested when Nesta had been silent a little too long. She was undressing him in her mind, and when she looked up at him, the little smile on his face made her wonder if he wasn’t aware. 

“Sure,” she agreed, if only to get out of helping with the dishes.

“I’ll carry you up,” he added, his eyes flashing. Nesta shook her head, her pride unable to stand being taken up and down the stairs.

“I can do it myself.

“Are you always this difficult?” he asked, rising to his feet. Cassian was a big man. Nesta had never felt small in comparison, had never once looked at a prospective lover and thought herself little. Cassian, though. Cassian exuded strength. In another life, he might have been a warrior prince worshiped by the masses. 

Nesta offered him a feline smile. “Maybe.” Back home, that refusal to yield would have earned her nothing good. With Cassian, though? A slow smile spread over his rugged face.

“Wouldn’t be any fun if you weren’t, I suppose. Go on then, Miss Nesta. Yell if you need me…I’ll come runnin’.”

Nesta suppressed a shiver at his sensual tone. “Is that a promise?”

He looked her up and down, his expression suddenly ravenous. If Nesta had less pride, she might have hopped over to him, pressed her hands to his chest, and let him finish what he’d started. 

“It is,” he said simply, those hazel eyes finding her face again. 

It was shree will that made her turn. As if she had something to prove. And Nesta made it all of four little hops before Cassian was coming behind her and sweeping her up off her feet. Nesta gasped, unprepared to be so close to him again.

“C’mon,” he murmured, holding her like she was something delicate.

Something fragile.

And no one thought that about her. Nesta swallowed hard, biting back the urge to snap at him. He didn’t know what she was like and maybe that was a blessing, because Nesta didn’t have to put on a show for him. She could press her head against his chest and sigh, “Thank you,” without needing to scowl, to stare him down so he knew not to ever try such a thing again.

“Tell me if I’m wrong,” he drawled softly, taking that first wooden step. “But I’ve got the feelin’ that back home, you’re somethin’ of a ball buster.”

Nesta tightened, her hackles raised. “Is that such a bad thing?”

“No, ma’am,” he chuckled. “It’s just…I’m thinkin’ that most of those men up there don’t know how to act right when it comes to you. And because they can’t make hide or hair of you, they treat you bad. Try and break you, make you small? So you’ve gotta be real tough, don’t you baby?”

Nesta swallowed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said crisply, careful to enunciate every single syllable which she knew only proved his point. 

“That’s what I thought,” he said softly, taking her upstairs. Nesta didn’t want him to let her go. I was a strange thing, to be so seen. To be laid bare by this man she didn’t even know. 

“Don’t get mad at me for sayin’ this, but you remind me of Bryaxis—”

“Your horse?”

“He was mistreated too,” Cassian explained. “Screamed at, whipped…you name it, he endured it. But all he needed was a soft hand. A little patience. I figure you probably aren’t too different.”

“Where are you taking me?” 

Cassian had opened a bedroom door that absolutely belonged to him. The dark masculine reds and blacks of the bed were a dead giveaway, along with the half-full glass of water on a wood bedside table and a stack of books dog-eared haphazardly. A leather jacket was hung from a chair near the open closet door, and though it was dark, Nesta could see an adjoining bathroom at the far end of the room.

“Where, I think, you want to be tonight. Tell me if I’m wrong—I’ll put you somewhere else.”

“This is your room, Cassian.”

She could see he was trying not to smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

Tell him he’s stupid. Tell him he’s wrong. Demand he put you back in your own room and—

“Okay,” she whispered before she could talk herself out of it.

Relief all but crumpled over his features. He murmured something that sounded suspiciously like Thank the good lord, and set her atop his neatly made bedspread.

Nerves shocked through Nesta, rendering her silent for a moment. Cassian, for his part, seemed to have realized that he, too, had her in his bed and didn’t quite know what to make of that.

“I ah…why don’t I wash up the dishes and you can take a shower?”

“That sounds good, Cassian.”

It sounded better than good, and though Nesta swore she wasn’t going to say so, she called, “Unless you think I need help in the shower?”

Cassian froze. For all his bravado, it was obvious he’d never thought he’d get this far. Nesta crawled toward the end of his bed with exaggerated slowness, holding his stare. He took a slow breath, those eyes of his darkening to almost black.

“Is it safe for me alone in there?”

The knot in his throat bobbed. “I reckon it’s not, Miss Nesta—”

“Just Nesta,” she reminded him, rising up on her knees so she could touch the hard planes of his stomach. “Do you think you could call me that, Cassian?”

“I…” his voice trailed off when her fingers found his belt and tugged. 

“You know,” Nesta continued with far more bravado than she felt, “I don’t think I’ve properly thanked you for coming to my rescue today.”

“You..” he cleared his throat. “That’s not necessary. I—Nes—”

“That’s better,” she crooned, having undone the button of his jeans. A lump was forming—hard and thick and Nesta was desperate to see what the cowboy had hidden in those black pair of briefs. 

“Nes,” he tried again, his hands resting on her shoulder. He wasn’t stopping her, and given the way his fingers curled against her, she thought he was trying very, very hard to be a gentleman.

That wouldn’t do. 

“I’d be a poor guest if I didn’t thank you,” she said, slipping past the waistband of his underwear. Nesta gasped when she curled around him—or, tried to. As she pulled Cassian out, she realized she’d need to rethink her plan to thank him with her tongue. Cassian was enormous, both thick and long. Hardly a grower, given he was still stiffening in her curled hand.

Neither of them spoke for a moment, each waiting for the other to do something. Deciding he was erect enough, she pumped him. Her fingers just barely fit around his shaft, and even with two hands she couldn’t have fully covered him. Nesta certainly wasn’t going to be able to fit him all in her throat.

But god she wanted to try. 

He exhaled a breath when she stroked him again, earning a chuckle from Nesta. “Tell me how you like it,” she murmured, softening her grip. Nesta had to hope that the cowboy liked it rough, because she wanted him to fuck her within an inch of her life. 

“Nice and slow?” she tried, making a sweet pass over that large cock of his.

Cassian shook his head, his dark tresses, whispering against his broad shoulders. What was he like out of control? 

“What about this?” she tried, pumping him harder, squeezing tighter. He shook his head again, allowing her to make a third, rougher pass. Nesta twisted her wrist against his head, her nails grazing the sensitive vein trailing his now very erect cock jutting from between two powerful legs.

“That's what I thought,” Nesta murmured, looking up through dark lashes. “Just like me.”

“Nes—” 

Nesta silenced him by taking him into her mouth. She had to use her hand to make up the difference and she didn’t care. A soft, strangled noise escaped Cassian as his fingers plunged into her hair. 

Yes.

This was what she needed. Nesta took him until she gagged, and then she took a little more, teeth grazing his sensitive skin, hand punishingly tight. Cassian moaned, tugging at her hair. Nesta sucked again, trying so hard to communicate that she could take it. He was holding back, practically shaking from the effort. 

Nesta took more of him, widening her jaw in order to accommodate the sheer size of him. That was all it took. Cassian made a rough, snarling sound, pushing her off him.

“You’re a lady,” he panted, reaching for the buttons of his shirt. 

Finally.

“And in my house, ladies come first,” he continued, eyes flashing as he shrugged out of that shirt. Nesta swore softly at the sight of all that gleaming, corded muscle. Nesta had never seen someone so effortlessly toned, so big.

Powerful.

“I seem to recall something about eating out,” she said breathlessly, swallowing hard when Cassian prowled toward her.

“I haven’t forgotten, darlin’,” he promised, hovering over her with his unbuttoned jeans and a smile that made Nesta’s heart race. “But first, I think I’m owed a kiss.”

“Just one?” she asked as his lips ghosted over her own.

“Let’s start with one and go from there,” he said, sliding his hand around the back of her head. Nesta had only her ripped dress between them, which provided no protection against Cassian when he pressed the weight of his body against her. 

In another life, she might have kissed him nice and slow—teasing it out, exploring him thoroughly. Right then, though, Nesta thought she might explode if she didn’t have his mouth directly on her, his tongue stroking, thrusting, tasting. He was just as excited, grinding himself into her while she pulled at the strands of his hair.

He tasted like snow kissed wind, somehow. Like the crackling of a fire and a frosted window—like some memory she’d long forgotten. Nesta dug her nails down the back of his neck and against his shoulder blades until he bucked into her, wild and nearly unrestrained. Nesta could not remember the last time she’d wanted someone the way she wanted him.

“Off—get this—off,” Cassian panted between messy, hungry kisses. He was pawing at her dress, trying to figure out how to take it off. Nesta arched her back into his chest, earning matching moans from them both as she yanked down the zipper

Nesta would never know how she managed to get that dress off her body given Cassian never stopped his frantic kissing. Nor did she figure out how her bra joined her clothes on the floor. She only realized she was nearly naked when Cassian licked down the column of her neck before burying his face between her breasts.

“Fuck, Nes,” he breathed, both hands covering them entirely—no easy feat, given how large they were. Cassian massaged them, callused thumbs dragging over her aching nipples until Nesta was certain she was making a mess all over his bedding. 

His mouth latched around her and Nesta was lost, ripping at his hair as her body bowed off the bed.

“Responsive,” he teased, his tongue tracing around the sensitive bud. “I wonder…”

“Cass—” she gasped when his hand made its way between her legs. Nesta writhed when he began drawing circles on her clit, teasing touches that weren’t even close to what she needed, even as he switched between her breasts, sucking and licking. She could feel it all in her pussy, like every nerve in her body was intimately connected.

She could have come from that—for the first time in god knew how long. At least, without her own hand, without assistance from a toy. Nesta couldn’t recall the last time a man had pleased her so easily, so effortlessly.

Cassian pulled back, wild and impossibly sexy. Holding her gaze, he nipped his way down her body until he found the red pair of panties still clinging to her hips.

“Aw, for me?” he teased, kissing against the fabric. “Sweetheart, you’re soaked.”

Nesta pushed herself against his face, but Cassian was still licking against the lace. 

“I’ll bet you could come just like this. Couldn’t you?”

If he was doing it? Probably. Nesta merely whined, arching when he hooked his fingers into her underwear and peeled them off her.

He whistled softly. “You’re so fuckin’ pretty, baby. Do you know that? I feel sick at the sight of you.”

She didn’t have a chance to respond. Cassian’s tongue slid down the center of her, rendering speech impossible. Nesta reached for something to hold on to, and found his hair for purchase. Cassian groaned, the sound vibrating against her. Her thighs tightened around his face, earning another groan of pleasure. 

Cassian’s tongue was everything. She realized, after a lifetime of thinking she was just difficult to get off—too fussy, too particular, too exacting—that what she really needed was someone who knew what they were doing. Cassian had her spread apart, licking and sucking her clit with the sort of expert precision that told Nesta he liked what he was doing. 

She regretted not sucking him more. Nesta was going to come apart in record time and she knew she was going to beg him to do this again in a few hours. All weekend.

For fucking ever. 

Release was gathering on her spine, burning hotly through her blood until Nesta didn’t recognize the noises coming from her throat. Cassian, too, was rolling his hips into the mattress, trying to alleviate his own arousal. Nesta nearly stopped him, if only to have that long, thick length in her body.

As if he could hear her thoughts, Cassian pushed one of his fingers into her. Nesta tightened around him and Cassian swore at whatever he felt, though he didn’t stop. He fucked and sucked in time, working her like she was an instrument only he knew how to play. Nesta built up, up, up, until she was fucking his hand, rolling all over his face like a wild animal. 

Nesta broke apart with a scream she couldn’t control, bucking against him as she shattered into fractals of starlight. Cassian didn’t stop, riding her through wave after wave with clear, obvious excitement. It was only when pleasure became edged with pain that Nesta released the grip her thighs had around his face and Cassian came up for a deep breath of air.

“Fuck,” he said, his lips gleaming from her arousal. “Fuck, Nes—”

“Come here, come here,” she panted, scrabbling for his shoulders. Cassian obliged, kissing her frantically. His tongue was coated in the taste of her, pushed against her own. Nesta liked it, wanted more of him.

“Condom,” he breathed, finally shucking his jeans to trip over to his dresser. Nesta propped herself up on her elbows to watch, admiring his firm ass as he went. Cassian was quick about it, rolling the condom onto his cock with what she swore were shaking hands. His eyes shone, and if she didn’t know better, she would have sworn Cassian could not believe his good luck. 

“You sure?” he asked, hesitating at the end of the bed. Nesta nearly laughed, given she was spread out and still trembling from his mouth. Any other man would have jumped on her, would already be balls deep buried in her.

He was sweet, she decided.

She wanted to keep him, though she had no idea how. She’d figure it out later. “I’m sure.”

“Good,” he said with another heart stopping smile. “I don’t know what I would have done if you’d said no.”

“Sure you do,” she offered in what she hoped was a sultry voice. “You’d have gone into the bathroom and used your hand.”

“That was my plan to start,” he agreed, settling between the cradle of her thighs. “But this is much better. Have I said how pretty you are?”

“Once, at least.”

“Well.” He pushed himself an inch or so into her. Nesta gasped loudly. “You’re fuckin’ beautiful, darlin’.”

He’d punched all the air from her lungs. Nesta didn’t think she’d ever been stretched against anything half as large as Cassian. It was the sweetest pain that, with each shallow stroke inching him in deeper, became wholly pleasure. By the time Cassian had fully seated himself within her, a bead of sweat was trailing down his temple from the effort it took to go slow.

“Good?”

“Good,” she agreed, gripping the back of his neck for a kiss. “Cass?”

He hummed in response.

“I’m not fragile. You can fuck me, if you like.”

Cassian pulled himself out before snapping his hips so hard the headboard above them rattled. “Like that?” he grunted.

“Yes—yes, Cassian—”

He did it again, groaning loudly when she tightened involuntarily around him. This was Cassian unrestrained, his hair wild around his rugged, handsome face. His muscles bunched and shifted from the effort, held over her just enough that she could incline her had and watch his cock slide in and out of her body. 

He wasn’t finished, and Nesta already wanted to have him again. 

And again.

Cassian reached for her knees, bending them up by her shoulders to drive himself deeper. Nesta moaned, eyes rolling up into her head. The balls of her feet were pressed to his chest pushing him with each slide out, only for him to return with twice as much force. When she’d said she’d wanted it rough, well…this was exactly what she meant. 

“Nes, fuck—” he panted, eyes rolling up into his head as she came on his cock. Nesta arched hard, every muscle in her body going taut all at once. She clamped around him and Cassian came too, clearly unbidden and unprepared for the force of his own release. She wanted to drown herself in the noises he made, in the frantic thrusting of his body driving himself deeper on instinct. 

Cassian collapsed on top of her, dropping Nesta’s legs carelessly. She hissed when her bruised ankle hit the bed. 

“Sorry,” he whispered, lips against her jaw. “And I’m not, at the same time. Nesta, I…”

“I know,” she agreed, because she was certain they were thinking the same thing. Something else had happened between them, something they couldn’t so easily walk away from.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said, perhaps guessing those words were never going to come easy to Nesta. “I can hear you worryin’. Baby, you don’t have to worry about me.”

Nesta brushed her fingertips against the rough stubble of his face. “Promise?”

Cassian grinned. “I promise.”

[robby-bobby-tommy]

As it is obvious from my blog, I adore TFP. It is the first Transformers show I've watched (I remember watching tf content before, yet i can't remember which it was). Yet as always, I have some criticism even to my most beloved things and now I want to talk about one of these. And the name to him is Dreadwing.

Dreadwing is particularly interesting cuz he seems like one sane person in the whole Nemesis, who is undeniably loyal to the cause. Something that even Megatron isn't anymore. Dreadwing is a great example of what the decepticon should be. Fierce, strong, yet smart, noble, loyal and respectful to his own team. And this is an interesting since we've never seen this before, cuz everyone else on Nemesis strayed from this path and just using this cause as a way of manipulation. And still Dreadwing was most loyal to Megatron, with the only thing standing between him and total obedience is his love for his late brother (Skyquake, hun, sorry, but I literally forgot abt you the moment you died).

And this is a great start, but all this potential was, at least for me, wasted.

Firstly. His position which he came in the show. He was presented to us as a) a threat; b) Wheeljack's enemy/rival. And that's when my first problem starts here. Let's look at the statistics.

Optimus prime — Megatron

Ratchet — KO (or Shockwave)

Bumblebee — KO

Bulkhead — Breakdown

Arcee — Arachnid

Smokescreen — KO (why does he have a beef with every child in the group?)

Ultra Magnus — Predaking

And then Wheeljack is like — ?????

And yeah, I am upset abt lack of Wheeljack in TFP, but it's relevant to my Dreadwing rant, since all the others I've mentioned has met at least once/twice and had some resolution to their rivalry (even though not the good one), but cowboy loose cannon and a flying samurai never even mention each other after their episode. It is cuz Wheeljack really likes to disappear from the plot for Primus knows how long, while this Seeker stays through all the season 2 until my greatest disappointment came.

Secondly, Dreadwing's death is the dumbest scrap I've seen and looks like a very rude way to get rid of character. I still have no idea of why Megan chose Starscream over someone who's loyal to you to the point of disobeying to save ur tailpipe! And don't start the 'but DW disobeyed him', WING BOY WAS PROMOTED FOR IT.

Furthermore, from the moment I saw him even if I thought DW was to die, I considered it would happen in a battle with Wheeljack. It would be so interesting to see a death match between two guys, madly loyal to their friends/family/team. But nahh, Jackie never tries to go after winged edgelord ever again and never even ask if he's up to rematch.

(Also, funny how Dreadwing is so mad at SS for bringing Skyquake back to life as a zombie, but not at Bee and OP for literally killing him..... Priorities, huh.. Just another scrap u to Starscream for no reason.)

[angel-maybe-alive]

Today I went to the towns library (had to go to the dentist and the library was close so I decided to go because this is the first time in two years I had a excuse to go out)

And I really think it's funny how booktok people act like there's anything groundbreaking about the female gaze (misused term) spicy (I fucking hate this term) books

Because I am sorry but my towns library has mostly old books and there's a whole shelf of violently 80s erotica and it's hilarious how nothing changed from horny white women in 1985 and horny white women today

(to not say nothing really changed there's less mainstream erotica about native(they do not use the term native) fetishism and orientalist power fantasies about vaguely arab kingdoms who came direct from Disney's Alladin also they have less faes and the men are bigger and more manly(also the hair because it's the 80s and all women love a guy with neck length curls)

But it's all there the criminal porn (they seemed to be more into pirates and cowboys) the royal porn(king's knights and a Lancelot/Guinevere fanfic that I almost wanted to read) the monster fucking but not really (it seems like it's being almost 50 years of women wanting to bang wherewolves ) the rapey themes the bland self inserts all of it

It was always there and you know I respect those books (minus the racist ones because holy shit I'm not joking about the fetishism part) because they were truth about what they are it's mommy porn for lonely middle-aged women

But like booktok books seem so afraid of being just erotica like they have to have something else going on Sarah j Maas didn't wrote a bad fae porn it's a epic fantasy lightlark isn't a bad courtly porn it's a hunger games with royals (it isn't)

And I actually believe that why the authors do this (not sell their clear erotica as erotica but bullshit some feminist mcguffin quest thingy in the background to justify the porn) because they are afraid of being called what they are mommy porn authors

(literally one of the authors looked just like a older sjm )

And this is my problem there's nothing wrong with writing mindless pornography I do have a problem with trying to pass mindless pornography as something else

Anyway I'm still a little numb of the anesthesia so this is just a rambling

But I also want to say the men they put on those old covers are fucking hot maybe it's the slutty half open frilly shirts and long hair maybe it's that look of a guy who smoked a pack of cigarettes before breakfast but god they look so fine