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plotsignificanthaircut555 · 26 days

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Bad First Impression

dealer! reader x first time stoner! Choso SMUT, 18+ MDNI

Choso makes a really bad first impression on you after catching you selling to his younger brother. When he finally apologizes, he reveals he has never gotten high. You two change that. and then....ya know....

8.9k words of pure filth. I wrote this because I was horny and high and reminiscing about my dealing days. support your local drug dealer. Enjoy. ao3

content warnings- SEX, drug use, subby choso, kind of in charge reader, choso has a tongue piercing because i made it up, riding, eating pussy, a lot of talk about spit, like a lot, also a lot of talking about smell, again its nasty (im kind of on my high horse about weed, sorry, )

You met Choso a few weeks back. The air was hot and thick inside of the long ranch house. Bodies packed together, music blaring, lights of all colors and strobe speeds dancing through the space. You had been invited by the party's hosts to help “supply” the partiers with anything and everything that could keep them going all night. You didn’t deal in anything that hard, mostly weed, mushrooms, you could get acid easily if it were requested of you, occasionally you helped distribute the stray gram or two of coke for nights like this. But you tried to cap your work in hard drugs there. That night you were only holding ten or so pre rolls, and a quarter of unground flower, ready to help any first timers learn the process of smoking all the way from the beginning. You had already sold the single gram of coke you had been asked to bring with you, mostly to the wilder of the pair, who was currently grinding so hard with his boyfriend, the other host, that you were beginning to worry they’d lose their clothes soon. A few other lines had gone out earlier in the night, their users sweating away on the dance floor in front of you. You didn’t partake yourself, but you enjoyed seeing the results of your labor in their smiling, energized faces.

You kept to the side for now, sipping a warm light beer out of a flimsy solo cup. A hand tapped your shoulder and you turned to face a fresh faced girl with a cute auburn bob.

“Hey you’re the …..dealer….?” She kept her voice low when she uttered the street name of your profession

You matched her hushed whisper, “yeah. But you don’t have to whisper. Everyone here is already pretty fucked up. Anyone undercover would certainly have incriminated themselves.”

You were intending to make her laugh and put her at ease but she looked a bit panicked, smiling wryly with big wild eyes.

“I’m joking, babe.” You smiled at her, “what do you need?”

She giggled a bit, exhaling her anxiety, “I was hoping you had some more pre rolls for my friends and I?”

She gestured behind her to a pink haired guy and a taller black haired guy standing off to the side. The two of them were watching her nervously, but trying to remain cool, turning away quickly when you looked, one of them even whistling to convey his faux nonchalance. These kids are freshmen for sure.

“Sure.”, you nodded at her friends and at her before opening your bag and pulling the jar of pre rolls you kept sealed, for maximum freshness.

You picked through them briefly, “how many do y’all want? Are you guys pretty heavy smokers or still getting the hang of it?”

“We’ll-uh— I guess just whatever you smoke? I’m sure that’s good.” She shrugged, clueless.

No chance they could take what you take.

You pulled two of your lowest level strains. These kids were for sure just figuring out what they liked and you didn’t want them greening out in the middle of the party. Both because you had your own memories of over serving yourself and spending the subsequent eighteen hours truly and utterly miserable and you didn’t want to potentially cheat yourself out of three eager new customers.

“Why don’t you start with this, I’ll give you the second one as a freebie for your first time. it’s Zelato, mid strength hybrid strain, you won’t be too up but you won’t be couch-locked either. I think you guys will like it. If you do, you come back and see me, okay?”, you offered her the two pretty pink pre rolls along with your contact info and she gave you a clean crisp bill in exchange before fluttering back to her friends.

You watched the trio excitedly hurry out to the backyard, like kids on Christmas wanting to play with a shiny new toy fresh out of the box. You liked the job, you enjoyed gathering more and more knowledge about strains and terpenes and sharing what you had learned with your customers. Patients felt like a better term, but it also felt a bit self congratulatory. But it felt true, you loved how natural weed was, it made you feel more like a botanist or a healer than a pharmacist. Still helping people manage anxiety, pain, depression, or just to have a fun night and relax, but without all the side effects and the regulation.

You hoped she and her friends would call on you again. They seemed nice and like they could use someone like you. Especially if they were already experimenting with drugs and partying, it helps to have a dealer you can trust. One that isn’t just wanting to make money, but wanting to educate as well.

You were considering heading outside to smoke a joint of your own, a treat after a job well done. You would probably bail soon, the party seemed to be declining from its apex, and soon your services would no longer be needed. Before you could turn to head to the back yard you felt a strong hand clap around your shoulder. This was so different from the timid shoulder tap of your earlier customer, it almost made you laugh. You didn’t laugh, however, at the grip that stayed on your shoulder, pale knuckles clasped tight around your bone.

You followed the hand up the arm and finally turned to face your assailant. Dark, angry eyes ringed with smudgy purple eyeshadow met yours. A large black bar was tattooed across the bridge of his nose, in the dim, colored party lights you thought it almost looked red. His dark hair was messily tied up in two knots on either side of his head, you thought you could see piercings up along the sides of his ears and he was irate, staring right into your eyes, his lips were moving but you were so stunned and the music was already so loud, you couldn’t hear what he said. You found yourself opting to watch his mouth move for a moment, admiring the fullness of his lips, and the wicked snarl they held.

He was hot. Like really hot. But who the fuck did he think he was grabbing you like this?

You came back to your senses and smacked at his wrist, “back off, dude.”

“Did you sell drugs to my little brother?” He repeated, and this time you heard him. His voice was rough and low, he didn’t release your arm, instead gripping tighter.

“I don’t know who your brother is, I don’t know who you are. Get your fucking hand off of me, asshole.” You gripped his wrist tight and tried to pull it from you. Your touch was like nothing to him, this guy was strong.

He didn’t let up, gesturing behind him with his other hand to the pink haired boy from earlier, red faced with embarrassment,“The fucking kid that you sold drugs to. He’s not even twenty and you’re trying to dope him up?”

“Dope him up? What are you, ninety? Get the fuck off of me” Finally you pulled his hand off of you and pushed him back, hard.

“He’s still a kid, he doesn’t need your shit. Stay away from him.”

He had stepped too far by insulting your craft.

“I never even spoke to your brother, his friend is the one who bought it. Take it up with them if you have a fucking problem.”

The boy, the brother you now knew, and his two friends rushed up, trying to deescalate the quickly rising situation. People around you were starting to take notice.

“Choso, come on relax, we were just experimenting a little. It’s not anything crazy! Everyone smokes weed in college!” Little Brother tried to laugh off the stakes of the situation but his trembling voice betrayed him.

The man in front of you hadn’t stopped glaring at you, he seemed to be calming down a bit, but you could practically hear his blood boiling.

“Yuji, I told you not to come here. You’re here to study, not to mess around and get high.” He barked at his younger brother, who seemed to crumple lightly.

You were seeing an opportunity for a somewhat graceful exit so you started to withdraw, “sounds like this is a family affair, so I’m gonna head. Fuck you, don’t grab random women you don’t know. Kid, your friend has my card if your cop brother decides to let up.”

With your last comment you glared back at the older brother, before turning and leaving the party, Choso seething in your wake, anger now directed at the trio instead of you.

You figured that would be the end of it. That asshole ruining your night and probably never getting another sale out of those three. It was a week later that you got a message from the girl, Nobara, who you had spoken to. She wanted to buy again and you set up a date with her to come by your place and pick up from you. She seemed apologetic in her texts, but you couldn’t blame the girl, you were just thankful she reached out again.

It wasn’t until you opened the door that you realized why she had sounded so sorry. Swinging open your front door you were met with the same asshole who had been bouncing around in your mind making you furious again and again, it was a set up.

“Fuck off.” You slammed the door in his face, locking it loudly.

He knocked before speaking through the thick wood of the door, “I’m here to apologize.”

Yeah, right.

“Don’t care. You can go.” You were already retreating from the door, pissed that not only did you have to see this clown again, but you wouldn’t be getting the money from the deal you had lined up.

“Please let me apologize. I was way out of line. Yuji asked me to come here. Yuji’s my brother, from the party, please I want to apologize.” His voice came muffled from the other side of the thick wooden front door.

He sounded…..desperate. Embarrassed, maybe even ashamed. It wasn’t okay that he grabbed you, yelling at you without even knowing what had happened, but you couldn’t help but think he sounded genuine.

Kicking yourself already, you unlocked the door and opened it. He looked pitiful; big, brown eyes that once were so angry, now turned down giving him the look of a hurt dog. You could see now, in the light, that he had dark bags under his eyes as well, he looked like he had barely slept. His hair was down instead of pulled up like the other night, it hung in loose waves, stopping right at his shoulders. The black tattoo across his face was somehow less threatening, it looked almost like a bandage. The makeup from the other night was present again but softer somehow. You should have been so mad, you should have yelled at him for putting his hands on you and demeaning your work. But seeing him like this, you couldn’t help feeling bad for him. You opened the door and he looked down at you. He was taller than you remembered, a head or so above you. You met his eyeline and leaned against your door frame, crossing your arms in an attempt to maintain your cold demeanor despite how quickly you were forgetting why you had been angry.

“I never went to college.” He blurted, your face must have betrayed your confusion because he elaborated, “I don’t really know how it’s supposed to work. I guess drugs and parties and whatever are part of it. I overreacted. I want to make sure Yuji has a future and a good one, he was the one who deserved to go to college and I didn’t want him to mess up his chance. But that’s not fair. He deserves to have the full experience and I can take that from him.” He huffed out the last part quickly.

You raised your eyebrows. His admission was wandering and full of half offerings that you could piece together to create a clear-ish picture of an older brother pushing his younger brother to try his best and remain undistracted. You could empathize with that, but it doesn’t give him a pass to put his hands on you.

“I told him not to go to that party, I know the guys who were throwing it and I don’t want them taking advantage of him. Yuji’s a really great kid and he’ll go out of his way for pretty much anyone, and I didn’t want to see him get involved with people who don’t care about him. So I went to the party to bring him home, but when I saw him and his friends smoking I figured they had already started working him over and I took it out of you instead of them. I should never have grabbed you like that, or spoken to you like that. I’m sorry.” The words spilled out of him like a boiling over pot, fast and bubbly, quickly falling back to a simmer once out.

Choso looked lighter, still hanging on anxiously at the prospect of forgiveness, but lighter after bearing part of his soul to you. His hands that had been clenched into fists at his sides now hung freely, shoulders dropping slightly with less tension pinning them back. You felt lighter too, clearly the other night had been a misstep, and he obviously felt terrible.

Now that you felt saited in your week old anger, you could finally allow yourself to acknowledge how hot he was. Your anger towards being harassed had distorted your memory of him, he was tall and toned. You would have guessed he was a swimmer or did some kind of daily work that kept him in such incredible shape. The T-shirt hanging loosely over him was cropped enough to end right at his hips, a small sliver of skin peeking out underneath. He wore a simple pair of dark jeans and boots, nearly identical to what he had been wearing at the party. In the daylight you could see he did have a few piercings in each ear, hoops through his earlobes, silver barbells riddling asymmetrically along each ear's cartilage. His nose was strong and structured, lips full and pouted. You had never seen a tattoo like his before, obstructive and obvious right across the bridge of his nose, pure blackout work.

God that had to hurt.

“Why didn’t you go to college?” You pried, resting the top of your head on the doorframe as you looked up at him.

He looked surprised but shrugged, tucking his hands into his pants pockets, “Families are….complicated, I guess. When our parents died, I wanted to be there to look out for Yuji. He was always special, if either of us deserved to have an education, he would have been the one to do something with it.”

You couldn’t help but feel moved. This guy had quite the sob story, dead parents, a younger brother he was the caretaker of, it was noble for him to have sacrificed his own aspirations to support those of his brother. You admired it. A silence settled in between the two of you, wind rustled the trees outside of your house, you could see the chill set over Choso, he had turned his gaze to the ground, jaw set, hands still in his pockets.

“You want to come inside?” You opened the door more, allowing him to see inside.

He cocked his head a bit at you. You couldn’t blame him, you had told him to fuck off the moment he got here, and now you were inviting him inside. Still confused he nodded finally and you moved aside to let him in. He stepped in tentatively, as he passed you you could smell something metallic and organic, like wood stain or metal grease. He stood awkwardly in front of your door as you closed it.

“The smell is kind of…intense in here.” He cleared his throat.

“Right, I’ve gone a little nose blind to it. I hope it doesn’t bother you too much. Would you like anything? Water, coffee, I don’t know if you like tea. I have some beer or something like that if you’re feeling like drinking at 2pm.” You offered, realizing you didn’t actually know why you had invited him inside. Sure, he had looked cold but really you didn’t want him to leave yet.

“Coffee, if you have it.” He perked up a bit.

“Always.” You walked over to your small kitchenette.

You lived in a one bedroom. It really should have been considered a studio, but technically your bedroom did have a door. The living area, entryway, and kitchen were basically all one large room. You had a brown couch along the wall next to the door facing the tv, an afghan blanket draped over the back, a low coffee table in the middle covered in various hobbies of yours: books, your bong, half done crafts. A two chair dining set sat mostly unused against the far window across from the front door, you never sat there unless you were working, you took nearly all your meals in front of the tv. A bad habit you knew you should avoid, but just couldn’t bring yourself to break.

Your bedroom was off to the left, with the bathroom attached behind the door. It was a pain to have guests over, knowing they would have to walk through your bedroom in order to use the restroom. But it was a good incentive to keep your room tidy! You were suddenly thankful your anger had fired you up to do some cleaning this week, grumbling to yourself while folding laundry, “another thing-s” and “if he fucking tries again-s” leaving you as your scrubbed the bathroom and made your bed.

Choso was still standing, watching you, hands in his pockets.

“You can sit down if you like,” you nodded towards the couch, pulling two mugs down from where they hung above your sink.

You heard the sounds of his clothes rustling, some jewelry jingling, and the creek of your old couch adjusting to new weight. You tried to stay focused on pouring the coffee, pulling some sugar packets from a small drawer beside your coffee maker.

“Black is fine for me.” He piped up from the couch, he was sitting so stiffly, hands folded in his lap, back straight, thighs rigid as if just his presence would break something.

You dressed your coffee how you liked and grabbed his black cup and brought them over to the coffee table, sitting next to him. You sipped your coffee, watching him take his time doing the same.

“So if you didn’t go to college…” you started carefully, “how do you know Geto and Gojo?”

“Geto and I used to work together. Before he went back to school. He’s not a bad guy, neither of them are.” Choso held his mug close to his lips, he was being so honest, you got the sense he struggled with hiding his feelings. Hence the temper.

“Earlier, when I said I didn’t want Yuji around them. It’s not about them. They’re fine guys. I just don’t want Yuji getting distracted.” His voice was even and firm, he really did sound like someone’s parent.

“I get that. Those two…they’re kind of their own breed. I know what you mean.” You leaned back a little on the couch, letting one leg cross over the other.

Gojo and Geto were intense, and they had a reputation for throwing wild parties and nearly getting kicked out every year. You let the camaraderie of shared secrets hang between the two of you before pressing further.

“So I take it you and Yuji had a talk about casual drug use?” You couldn’t help but smirk a little, taking a mental tally of the bong on the table, the joints rolled and packaged on your dining table, the bag of flower tucked beside your tv.

Choso let out a strangled laugh, clearly an unfamiliar sound for him, “yeah he uh…he kinda let me have it. I know I made an ass of myself, but I didn’t realize how much I had embarrassed him.”

You joined his laugh thinking of the smiley, awkward kid laying into his much more intense older brother.

Choso turned his body toward you, “look, it’s not you. It’s not even the drugs. I just don’t want him losing himself to anything before he has the chance to figure out who he is and what he wants. I don’t want him stuck with something when he’s just barely starting his life.”

You couldn’t stop the laugh that left you. Quickly it progressed to a fit of laughter. Choso was not laughing, he was watching you laugh at him. Something serious that he had shared with you, a real fear and concern of his that you were now cackling at. You could see the hurt in his face start to give way to anger again, and you came down from your fit.

“I’m sorry, I really am. I get what you’re saying, but don’t you think you’re kind of overreacting. It’s just weed, he’s not shooting up in alleyways. He’s not dedicating his life to anything, he’s just relaxing and having a little fun with his friends.”

“It’s my job to make sure he stays focused and I don’t see how smoking is going to help him.” He crossed his arms, starting to get agitated.

“Seriously? A little weed, a big cup of coffee, and you feel like you could knock out all the work you’ve been putting off for weeks. It can help you get rid of all that noise in your head that makes little tasks feel big and scary. You know what I mean?” You were a little on your soapbox now, but when he shook his head silently it dawned on you.

“You’ve never tried it?” You marveled at him. He had to be 26 or 27, and he hadn’t tried it once?

He shrugged again, “I don't really have a lot of free time, I guess?”

You gasped happily, suddenly all the anger was erased under a new beautiful light of discovery.

“Choso, you have to try it. If anyone needs it, it’s you. All that responsibility, you’ve got to be stressed out, give yourself an hour or two to get away from it. You’ll love it.” You had moved onto your knees now, energy shooting up your body.

“I don’t know…”He was smiling despite himself, hesitation in his voice but excitement leading the charge.

“ If you try it, and really try it, right now and afterwards tell me you hate it, we can forget all about this and we’ll be square and I won’t sell to Yuji and his friends anymore.” You offered already thinking about whether a joint or glass would be better for him, “but if I’m right and you like it, I get a new customer and you get completely forgiven for the other night.”

Choso looked into your winde, eager eyes and felt his reservations melt, how could he say no.

“Okay. Just a little.” He agreed, finally cracking a smile onto that stern, beautiful face.

An hour later, one coughing fit from him attempting to use a bong, and half of a joint later, you and Choso sat side by side on your couch beautifully high. Smoke hung thick in the room, his head was leaned back against the back of your couch, his ropey neck on full display, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed again and again trying to wet his dry mouth.

You rested your head on your wrist, watching him grapple with the high for the first time. You had turned some music on, something low and vibey, just to keep up the ambience and avoid any paranoia brought on by old house noises or -god forbid- silence itself.

“Did you want some more water?” You offered, gesturing to his mostly full cup that he had kept forgetting about.

He sat up slowly, “Yeah, that sounds good.”

Leaning forward, he grabbed the cup and drank it down furiously, wayward droplets spilling out of the sides of his mouth. You watched closely as the little stream of water slipped between his lips, down the side of his chin, across the cut of his jaw, and down the column of his throat, passing the chain he wore and trailing underneath the neckline of his t-shirt. Your mind raced before you could catch it, you imagined how it would feel to slide your tongue up its wake, the cool water contrasting against his hot, flushed skin.

Quickly blinking away the fantasy, you saw he was looking back at you. He had been watching you, his dark brown eyes moving all over your face in an unreadable expression.

Could he read your mind? Could he tell how you had been imagining him?

He finally blinked and looked away, drawing in a breath and leaning forward to place the glass back on the coffee table, “Sorry.”

Before you could brush away the apology he continued.

“So how long have you been…..doing this?” he settled back down against the couch, the weed soothing any lingering nerves.

“A couple years, it's a good way to keep myself in school and avoid any debt. Plus you get to make your own hours, it's flexible.” You shrugged, “and, I don't know, I guess I like that it helps people. To have fun and relax or like, helping them just get through the day. I like that I can help people feel better.”

He looked surprised at you, and you shrugged again, feeling your face burn slightly.

“I get it's a dumb thing to say, and I know I'm really patting myself on the back here, but that's why I like it.” you pulled slightly at a loose thread on the hemline of the couch cushion underneath you, avoiding his gaze, avoiding his judgment.

“I dont think it's dumb. I know what you mean.” the sincerity in his voice was so simple, as though thinking anything else hadn't even crossed his mind, “I already feel more relaxed than I have in years. I didn’t know it was like this, so you helped me. I like that you want to help people.”

You smiled, you couldn't believe this was the same guy you had met so poorly the other night. He smiled back at you, a crooked, unpracticed smile that seemed as shocking to him as it was to you. You let the smoke linger between the two of you, both inside and outside.

“So obviously you know my job, but what is it you do?” you scooted a little closer on the couch.

He slumped a little, “a couple things, I do tattoos, piercings, that sort of thing..I’ve been working at an auto shop for the last few months, on days where I don't have appointments.”

“Do you do your own?” you asked, you had only seen the one across his bridge, you weren't sure if he had anymore.

“A few. I didn't do this one,” he gestures to his nose, “Not the one on my back, but a few others, yeah”

“Do you like it?”

“I do. I always liked to draw,” he stretched to scratch the back of his neck, “a buddy of mine let me into his shop a few years ago. I only started the car stuff when Yuji went to school, it's a good skill to know, helps me feel useful.” he shrugged, “I like working with my hands, it keeps me out of my head.”

“Are you in your head right now?” you asked, hoping being with you was relaxing him as much as the weed had.

“No.” He smiles just to himself, closing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths, enjoying how clear and simple his usually racing mind felt, “I kind of forgot it's supposed to feel like this.”

You laughed a bit, “It can be.”

He laughed too, a calming, easy chuckle.

“I’m glad you came by today, Choso.” You said softly

“Me too. I know I said Yuji asked me too, but I wanted to come and apologize. I was out of line, the over protective big brother act is so lame, I know. We’re just…all each other has.”

He suddenly was struggling to find the right words, he didn’t usually talk this much. The drugs had made him chatty, you had made him relaxed. Choso realized he hadn’t been alone with a woman in months, going on a full year. He spent nearly all of his time working, rarely went out with his few friends, and almost never went out on dates. He hadn’t even thought of being interested in a woman in weeks, choosing to rely on himself whenever the rare sexual urge did arise. He wasn’t a man without libido, but he was usually so focused—stressed out— sex just kind of lost priority. But here, sitting next to you, nerves hazy, voices soft, it was quickly climbing back up his priority ladder. He hadn’t noticed the first night how beautiful your eyes were, now they were slightly lidded and sensual as they looked over him, pupils wide and hungry. Your lips were full and shapely, a little dry from the smoke, but your wet tongue would dart out occasionally to moisten them again. His neck grew hot thinking about how soft your tongue looked. He bet you tasted so good, the lingering taste of coffee and smoke in your mouth, sliding your soft tongue against his, running your skilled hands over his body. He had watched you rolling the joint earlier, it was so routine, so ritual for you, but it was so intricate. You had clearly perfected it, nimble fingers filling, rolling, and sealing the flower inside of the pretty pink paper. Looking at them now, he wanted to put them in his mouth, to suck on them, to feel them tangle in his hair while you rode him right here on your couch.

He thought he would burst into flame when your fingertips touched the top off his hand, derailing his perverse train of thought from continuing.

“Choso?” Your voice was so soft when you said his name, it sounded right coming out of your mouth. You liked the way the letters tasted, he liked the way your tongue slipped around each sound, directly into his ear.

“Thank you, for giving me another chance.” He said finally.

Neither of you were sure when or how, but you had become very close. You could smell the sting of tea tree oil on his skin, now identifiable, and see every little crack in his glossy lips. You were staring into his bottom lip, as if summoned he drew it in, whetting it before releasing it again. He could see you watching him, he was watching you right back, he could feel your hot breath against his face, he could smell your shampoo, he could see the small coffee stain on the corner of your mouth, he wanted to be the napkin or shirt sleeve you’d use to wipe it away. Before he realized it, he was leaning closer to your lips. Your heart raced as he came closer, you weren’t sure how you had gotten here, just minutes ago the conversation was so benign and so casual, and now there was this…heat… between the two of you. You watching his mouth, him watching yours, you felt the electricity in your body ignite. The fingers that had been on the back of his hand trembled slightly as he leaned forward. He was moving so slow, being so careful to not push you. You gripped his hand tightly and pulled him closer, connecting your lips.

Your eyes were closed tightly, or else you would have seen the way his flew open before rolling back in his head. The same hand that had first grabbed you a week ago now moved up your arm and up to your jaw, pulling your lips harder against his. His kisses were hungry and desperate, yours were just as fevered as you felt his spit combine with yours.You moaned, lips parting enough for him to slip his tongue inside of your mouth. To your shock and delight you felt a small metal ball slide against your tongue, his tongue was pierced. You shivered, already thinking of how that cold metal would feel along your body, across your nipples, flicking against your clit. You thought you might faint as he pulled you over his lap.

He was faring no better, his hand pulling at you desperately, your jaw, your hair, your waist, your back, anywhere he could reach. He felt clumsy and a little pathetic, but he was too desperate to care. You were so hot, you smelled so good, your lips were so soft, he couldn't stop himself if he wanted to. When you finally did pull away, needing to catch your breath, he followed your lips eagerly, opting to kiss your chin or the underside of your jaw instead.

“Choso” you whimpered, pulling lightly at the hair at the back of his neck.

He continued kissing along your neck, moaning happily at the feeling of your nails against his nape. The sun had set outside, leaving the two of you in warm lamp light, the amber auras setting the deep brown of his eyes ablaze as he gazed up at you. Once your breath returned he moved one hand over the side of your face and pulled you in for another, softer but still passionate kiss. You relaxed into him, moving your hands over his chest, feeling the taught muscle and pleasure heated skin.

“I want you to tell me what you like.” He muttered against your lips in the form of a lover's secret, “I want to make it up to you. I want to please you.”

You felt yourself start to drip at his words, so devoid of the ego you were so familiar with in other men. A fast learner, too, his hands were carefully tracking your reactions, already finding erogenous zones that you usually had to demonstrate, tongue matching pace with yours. Kissing him deeply, tongues tangling, saliva and moans losing their origins points in the mess of shared wetness, you rocked your hips against his. He jerked up, unwillingly, a long, throaty moan leaving his lips as he threw his head back against the back of the couch, his hands on your hips gripping tighter.

“Baby….fuck”, he was getting hard so fast just from kissing you, it was embarrassing.

“You feel so big, Choso.” You rocked against him more, grinding into his erection over and over.

He blushed, the bar on his face doing nothing to hide the deep red settling across his cheeks. Feeling emboldened by the effect you had on him, you pulled your shirt off, leaving you bare chested on top of him. He was awestruck at the sight of your nearly naked body, his shock only growing when you grabbed his hands and brought them up to your breasts,squeezing them through his hands.

“Touch me here, like this.” You showed him how you liked to be squeezed and groped, all while keeping up your gyration on his lap.

He followed your lead immediately, mouth watering at how your breasts moved in his hands as you moved. He wanted to put them in his mouth, he wanted you completely naked, his own clothes felt so stiff and tight now. Choso removed his hands from your chest in a flash to quickly remove his own shirt before putting his hands on you once again, groping and squeezing the mounds freely. You moaned both at the sight of him bare and at how well he was following your directions.

“Fuck Choso… you look so good.” You marveled at him through your heavy lashes.

He was so toned, so well cultivated. His body was like that of a swimmer or a rock climber, lean and muscled, clearly focusing on mobility and functional strength above vanity. Tattoos littered his body, classic things, sigils and birds and quotes you couldn't quite read. All in due time.

In a move surprising you he sat up, abdominals rippling, keeping one strong forearm around your waist to hold you firm against him and he brought one of your nipples into his mouth. Even the fatty flesh couldn't muffle the haughty moan that escaped him, nor could it hide the way his eyes rolled back in his head. Your hands pulled at his hair, bringing him as close as possible, letting loose mewls of pleasure at his sucking. His tongue piercing circled around your areola, teeth quickly following to bite lightly at the rising peak. His dark eyes, now almost entirely black from blown out pleasure, looked up at you. The pornographic display in front of you was enough to have you whimpering already, the feeling of him so solid and throbbing underneath your hips wasn't helping, or was it, you supposed it depends on the goal; Longevity or absolute pleasure. Choso moved his mouth over to your other breast, repeating the same routine of circling and biting and suckling, he was completely blissed out, barely registering anything beyond the taste of your skin and the weight of your body on his. When you pulled at his hair to get him to face you again, you had to pull harder than you expected to get his attention. When you finally did, his head tipped back dramatically, a drunken smile across his wet, swollen lips.

“Take your pants off,” you whimpered breathily, “please.”

You stood up in front of him, feeling a slight ache in your hip hinges from your previous position and quickly rid yourself of your pants. He did the same, removing his belt, and kicking his shoes off before pulling his jeans off and tossing them aside. You stood in front of each other, in only your panties, him in black boxer briefs, length straining against the fabric. Breathing hard, you took each other in, it was so simple, but so sexy to be just standing before each other nearly completely naked. Not touching, not distracted by embracing hands or mouths, just taking a moment to appreciate the unguarded form of one another.

He was so taken by you, the swell of your hips, the curved lines of your silhouette, scars and lines and tattoos adorning your skin in a completely unique and deeply personal pattern. He liked the panties you were wearing, he wanted to keep them, maybe you would let him. They were a dark purple mesh fabric, his favorite color. There was no way you could have known, but it felt like fate. Your neck was starting to show little bruises from his kisses earlier, soon they would be purple too, he couldn't wait to see. Finally, he stepped toward you, his strong hands finding yours, bringing them to his body just as you had earlier. Your hands followed down the lines of his body, the muscles so hard under your touch. He moaned at your touch, chills rocking through his body, he was so reactive for you, every twitch of your fingers being amplified through his body like an electric current.

“You want to stay out here, or do I get to see your bedroom?”

“I’m a little partial to riding you right here, what do you think?” you flirted up at him, pushing on his stomach lightly, he was practically drooling.

You had chosen his exact fantasy from earlier and once again he found himself thinking that it was impossible you could have known, but it had to be fate. He kissed your lips again, the fever from earlier returning as you pushed him back down onto the couch, following him closely to keep your lips connected. Before you could move to straddle him, he gripped your hips.

“Please. Wanna taste you first, please baby, please.” He begged. He sounded so good when he begged.

You weren't one to argue with someone asking so nicely, so you did as he asked, sitting where he had been earlier, loving the feeling of the warmth he had left behind embedded in the cushion. Choso moved between your legs, his hands sliding up your thighs and pulling your panties away from your aching sex. He couldn't stop himself from bringing the panties to his face and taking in your scent, he didn't care if it made him a pervert, he loved the smell of a good, wet pussy, and yours may be the best he had ever had. Your jaw dropped at the unabashed display, catching his eye as he exhaled luxuriously.

“Fuuuuck, can I keep these?” It was like he was high all over again, one hit of you knocking him on his heels more than your highest testing strain ever could.

You nodded slowly, too shocked to speak. You didn't even care that you liked that pair, they were comfortable and sexy, nothing could compare to the thought of Choso keeping a pair of your used panties for himself.

He set them on top of his pants on the floor, before resuming his migration across the sensitive skin of your inner legs. You could feel yourself dripping onto the couch, you didn't care, you were too turned on to care about anything except him. Lying on his stomach on your couch, he was finally face to face with your bare pussy. He could feel himself starting to rut into the couch cushion, aching cock desperate for relief. Finally, with one last cautious look up at you, Choso slid his fore and middle fingers between your lower lips, separating them slightly to look right at your weeping folds. Even the light brush of his fingertips separating you had you ready to arch your back, you were so wet, his long tongue swiped up your slit, and a strangled gasp ripped itself from your throat.

One hand flew to his hair, struggling to decide if you wanted to push him away or pull him in deeper, opting to just pull. Choso was completely lost within you, your taste, your smell, the feeling of how wet you had gotten already, he wanted to drink up everything you had. He moaned into your dripping pussy as you pulled his hair harder, loud squelching and slurping sounds filled the room alongside your gasping, frantic moans of curses garbled with his name.

“You taste so good, baby,” he complimented, his round tongue piercing flicking so deliciously against your clit as he spoke, “I knew you would. Fuck, you’re too good to me.”

You could barely hear him. Too fixated on rocking your hips against his face, trying desperately to amplify the pleasure he was giving you. Choso kissed your pussy with long, flat tongued laps, his piercing circling your clit in a delicious rhythm that had you wailing. You had never been so thankful to live alone, one of your hands left his hair so you could bite hard on your knuckles, a foolish attempt to stifle your moans. Wisps of his bangs fell in his face, blocking you from his eyeline, he attempted to blow the strands out of his way, needing to see you struggle to quiet yourself. You were putting on such a beautiful show for him, panting and moaning above him, showing him exactly how good he was making you feel, he didn't want to miss a second of it. Breaking away only momentarily to brush his hair away from his face, only to have them fall back in their place, Choso huffed in frustration, his hot, irritated breath sending tingles across your slippery folds. You looked down at him, feeling him pull away briefly to pull a black hair tie from one wrist and hand it to you. Your instructions were clear as he dove back in, once again devouring you; you pulled his hair into a small bun, tying it quickly and returning your hand to cover your mouth. His own hands were clasped around your thighs, bringing them into his ears and diving in even further.

The lower half of his face, from top of nose to under his jaw, was shimmering, he was losing all sense of himself. He wanted to die between your legs, he wanted your thighs to crush him, he wanted to drown in your cum, he wanted the last sound he ever heard to be your squeaking whimpers of his name. His cock was pulsing against your couch, swollen nearly to the point of pain, with every lap it was getting harder. He didn’t think he would ever stop, your hands in his hair, nails against his neck and shoulders, your smell in his nose, your taste on his tongue, he could have stayed there forever. It wasn't until you started to pull him away by his roots that he finally came up for air again.

You shuddered as you peeled Choso away from your pussy. A thin, glistening string of spit and your arousal joined his wet lips to your sex, it was so erotic. He was panting as well, eyes wild with pleasure, damp face, swollen lips, looking to you for why you would have deprived him of his meal.

“Please, Choso, please let me fuck you,” you begged.

He protested weakly, “But I want you to--”

“Please, baby. I need you inside so badly.” You pointed out, moving your hand over the side of his face.

He pressed his cheek into your palm and nodded, sighing hard trying to catch his breath. You pulled him up to you, he followed, crawling on his hands up to your lips. Your kisses were now wet after his pleasuring you, you could taste yourself at the deepest part of his mouth you could reach. Choso ground his erection into you, sliding his length across your slick pussy and panting into your mouth. Gathering all your strength back you sat up, moving to assume the position from before. In the movements, he had finally freed his aching cock, gripping it hard at the base as you climbed over his lap. You slotted your lips against his over and over, tongues tangling, hands moving over hot, prickled skin. You rocked your hips up and down your slit, drenching him and building your anticipation. Choso pressed his forehead against yours, you could feel the sweat of his skin and the sweat of yours combining in between your skin. He angled his now dripping cock right at your entrance, you hissed as you made your way down his length. Moans escaped both of you as your tight walls sucked him in, head still pressed together, his hand bruising your waist. It had become so intimate, he filled you so entirely, pushing hard against the barrier of your cervix. You started to grind against him, moving your hips up and down, whimpering pathetically, arching your back. Your hands settled on his shoulders and stomach as you rode him faster and faster.

“Fuck, yes, you feel so good. Thank you.” Choso’s eyes were locked on your bouncing breasts. He leaned forward and caught one of your puffy nipples in his mouth again, sucking hard.

The feeling of him so deep inside of you, your increased sensitivity from him eating you out, and now his hot mouth teething and pulling at your chest had you so close already. You were almost embarrassed, but you couldn't keep yourself from bouncing more and more, grinding right up against his pelvis. Your hands moved up the back of his neck, keeping his head buried in your breasts, he switched to suck on your other nipple, moaning against your hot skin. One of his big hands squeezed at the fat of your ass, he couldn't get enough of you; he wanted to keep his hands and his mouth full of you, his cock buried inside of you forever. Your moans rose in pitch quickly, the hair at the base of his cock rubbing right against your clit. You pulled away, arching into his hand on your lower back, and humping against him even faster.

“Cho-Fuck baby, I…” You mewl out.

“Cum, please cum for me, baby. Make a mess on me please, cum on my cock, pleasepleaseplease.” he babbled, holding your hips in a bruising vice and helping you to raise and lower yourself.

He planted his feet on the ground, thrusting up to meet you halfway. You were so tight and hot, he could feel your wetness dripping down his balls, he could taste your sweat on the backs of his lips. Your cries started becoming intense and your body was shuddering against him, you could barely string together any thoughts beyond your desire to cum. FInally it all became too much, the hot pleasure that had been building all bursting out from you at once.

“Choso! I-- I--I’m cumming!” You cried against him, his thrusts under you were relentless, not stopping even as your orgasm peaked and valleyed before him.

“Fuck baby, yes. More more, please, fuck please, im--,” Choso’s own orgasm ripped through his body with nearly no warning, finally slowing his thrust, opting to press as deep as he could and dropping his head back against the couch. He moaned your name scrambled with curses and his throaty raspy groans.

Coming down from your shared high, Choso thrust up into you a few more times, shuttering at the feeling of spilling long spurts of cum inside of your hot, wet walls. You stilled your motions completely, hips aching, sweat dripping down your body, you pressed your head against his again, trying to catch your breath as quickly as possible. Choso kissed your jaw, your neck, your lips, your cheek, your temple, anywhere his lips could reach, sturdy hands massaging your hips and ass as he did. You smiled down at him, his face was tinted pink, his eyes were wet and full, he looked so fucked out, and so beautiful. The bun you had styled for him was barely hanging on,his bangs now stuck to his damp forehead. You dipped your head down and kissed him, the kiss now lazy but just as wet. Slippery mouths joining again and again as he rubbed your back. Once you felt you could move again, you moved off of his lap, his softening cock sliding out of you and flopping against his stomach. He panted in recovery once you had taken your place on the couch next to him, he pulled your legs into his lap, wanting to keep as good a hold on you as he could while still inside this bubble of intimacy you had created. He moved the back of his knuckles up and down your shin, turning his face toward you and gazing at you.

“That was…” He started, trailing off as words failed him once again.

You nodded blissfully, reaching over to grab his hand. He kissed the back of your hand.

“You’re….” this time he found his finishing words, “wow.”

You chuckled, “You too. I’m really glad you came over.”

“Me too.” he laughed a bit as well, gesturing to the half joint on the table, “You’re a bad influence on me.”

“I think you liked it.” you sat up taking the joint between your fingers and taking a lighter from the table.

You held the pink joint in between your lips, lighting it and puffing once before passing it over to Choso. He accepted and took a hit, then another, exhaling happily.

“I did. I do.” he answered finally.

You took the joint back, sitting up to his eye level as you puffed.

“I hope you don't think I’ll be giving you a discount because of this, I’m not that kind of dealer.” you joked.

A flirtatious smirk pulled at his lips, “If you had let me finish making you cum in my mouth, I think I could change your mind.”

You rolled your eyes, already feeling your pussy dampen and your nipples harden at his candor. He slid one arm around you, pulling you close and kissing your smoke warmed lips.

“Could I, maybe, come over again?” he asked against your lips, “Without needing to apologize to you for making a total ass of myself?”

Your heart squeezed, you had not yet started to worry that this was a one and done, his expert work leaving you already craving more. Everything that had happened was so unexpected, you started the day still seething from the first impression, but he had melted your icy demeanor instantly. You did want to see Choso again, you wanted him to make you feel like that again, you wanted to spoil him the way he had spoiled you. You wanted a chance to show him how good he had made you feel, and now you had the chance. You knew his situation, you knew yours, it was incredibly likely that this would be temporary, but even one more chance to share a night with him was enough for now.

I hope you guys enjoyed! As always, i did! Remember to use drugs responsibly and not give in to peer pressure, unless you think itll make people like you, then succumb. (im joking). alright bye! -- <3 Doodle

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cowboyjen68 · 3 months

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Hey Jen, Ive spent my whole life around acreage and ranching, and I want to get into owning land and horsemanship.. but Im not sure how. I know just enough to know what information im missing, but research only goes so far when its such a hands on skill. Would volunteering at barns be worth the time? Are queer friendly barns even a thing?

Thank you

I would say most places like horse rental facilities are neutral rather than "friendly". If you can do the job that is all they care about.

Some places like horse rescues and riding facilities that cater to therapy, special needs kids and adults and mental health improvement are probably more likely a little more aware of social issues.

My advice about getting an acreage is use your time now to pay off debt, live under your wage intake so you can save and invest is a small starter house that does not need a ton of money to fix it up. You can build equity in a small but decent house and enjoy the space without the contant stress of repair and construction. You can focus on working and saving and the house is earning you money.

Use the time to think about what you want. Do you want a hobby farm, an acreage that is for only a few horses? Do you want to create a business that is around horses like stall rental? Classes? Trail rides? Each of these will require a different size and location. When you do move to the country you might have to keep a city job which mean make sure you can either easily commute OR you can work from home in which case internet is important.

THe main things to decided are if you want a fixer upper or an ready to move in home. Keep in mind if you get a fixer upper that IS A FULL time job and can be time consuming and expensive. It is sometimes better to spend more for a home that is live in ready and updated

Make sure anything you buy in a rural area has a healthy well, (or access to a rural water coop), including to the barn, modern electrical (not wiring from 1920) good insulation and solid windows and access to good, if not great, internet. These basics will make life so much less stressful. IF there is room consider finding (and vetting) a roommate to share some payments and chores in the event you must (or want to) travel or if you were to get injured or sick and just need a hand for a while.

Don't get horse or goats until your fence and a cover (like a barn or lean to) is finishes and move in ready. Your neighbors do not want your goats on their front porch or you horse running into their new truck during a bad storm. IT is true, good fences make good neighbors.

Research the area for jobs and resources like groceries, hardware and make sure UPS etc WILL deliver to your home. Some places they will not. And make sure your gravel road is maintained by the county so you are not responsible to lay gravel or snowplow.

Hope some of this helps

#rural life #lesbian #dreams #horse ownership #horse

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eclectic-sassycoweyes · 9 days

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Inspiration Weekend ..

Thanks so much for the tag @welcometololaland !!

This little collage that it took me a loong time to make lol even if it isn't very good, is partly inspired by @lemon ‘s 🍋 very funny visual of TK being put on a pony because Carlos doesn’t trust him on a horse and then the pony walking into a lake 🤣

And partly by this thing that happened when I was asked what is the one thing I want to see in s5 which turned into a whole thing that has now turned into a WIP. 🙃

The rough gist of it is under the cut lol:

Also tagging with absolutely no pressure at all(!) @whatsintheboxmh, @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut, @carlos-in-glasses, @lemonlyman-dotcom,

@heartstringsduet, @thisbuildinghasfeelings , @carlos-tk , @lightningboltreader ,

@im-overstimulated-and-im-sad , @never-blooms , @herefortarlos , @paperstorm

The weekend is almost over lol so if you still want to do it consider that my fault and maybe it can be any-day-of-the-week-inspiration :):)

I WANT TARLOS TO VISIT THE REYES RANCH (lol I forget, is the Reyes Ranch even canon or is it just so unanimously fanon that it feels like it is?) either way… I NEED CARLOS ON A HORSE SO BAD !! I NEED TK TO SEE CARLOS ON A HORSE SO BAD!!! I NEED THEM TO GO TO SUNDAY LUNCH, OR A WEDDING OR BIRTHDAY AND LAUGH AND JOKE AND BEING THE COOLEST FUNNEST UNCLES FOR ALL THE KIDS RUNNING AROUND!!!

I NEED Carlos’ sisters to tease him in front in TK. I NEED for Carlos to teach TK horseback riding and take him to a romantic spot and I also NEED for one or both of them to go all heart eyes at seeing the other with the kids or just for Carlos to see TK being casual and charming and familiar with the Reyes family🥹 also BONUS POINTS if someone gets injured, or goes into labor, or one of the kids gets sick in some way, and TK flashes his paramedic skills, just flexes those paramedic muscles you know? 🚑💪

Here’s what I want: I want the ranch to go up for sale. Gabriel should have been the one to inherit it, and he and Andrea were to move there come his retirement. Obviously Gabriel wasn’t doing all the ranch work (he was a Texas Ranger so he wouldn’t have the time) - there were workers and some of Carlos cousins working on it, Gabriel just had the overall picture of what needed to be done, ongoing and future projects etc, took care of some legal and tax matters and so on.

Carlos has one cousin who is studying to be a vet and taking side courses in some other important and relevant subject when it comes to owning a ranch and the plan all along was that she was gonna take it over at some point from Gabriel and Andrea but she is still in school and the sad truth is someone needs to take over the legal ownership and the tasks that Gabriel did until then or it will have to go up for sale. Legally the inheritance would go directly to Carlos and his sisters, and his sisters are ready to be co-owners and split the tasks until it’s ready to move on the family line. But they need Carlos to be with them on it, partly because he lives the closest and knows the ranch best because Gabriel took him there a lot when he was younger, partly because Tía Lucy has said that that is the only option (in order to force to Carlos to reckon with his past with Gabriel because she is a spiritual woman who knows stuff)

Because the thing is, Carlos’ childhood memories of the ranch are more ambiguous than his sisters’. He has fond memories of it but it also reminds him of a time where he didn’t feel like he could show his true self and be seen by his family, where he didn’t think that his dad was proud of him, and where he would look at all his family members bringing long terms and new partners and kids to lunch and parties and think that this is something he would never have for himself🥺

TK and Carlos are invited to an upcoming facility party on the ranch, and TK talks Carlos into going there a few days before under the pretense that he just thinks they both need a few vacation days and with suggestive comments about how badly he wants Carlos to take him horseback riding 🐴 and then ride Carlos in a field of blooming daffodils😏🌼 but really he suspects the truth about Carlos mixed feelings toward the ranch and thinks that Carlos would benefit from confronting and processing some of those feelings and memories, that also connects to his grief for Gabriel.

So they go, and everything above mentioned transpires, giving Carlos some good healing memories associated with the ranch + some Carlos grieving and reminiscing and processing and talking to TK about it all who listens and wipes at his tears and rubs his back and kisses his salty wet lips and his forehead (idk if this happens before or after TK rides him in a field of daffodils).

It all ends happily with Carlos agreeing to take temporary co-ownership over the ranch and having processed a lot of stuff related to his past and his relationship with Gabriel 😌😌:(

#inspiration weekend #ranch fic #tag games #tarlos #carlos reyes #tk strand #tk strand on a pony #lol sorry about that btw #the reyes family ranch #sad carlos on a ranch #:(

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warnersister · 22 days

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Chapter 3 - The Dead Man Walking

The Highwayman Series | Chapter 2 | Chapter 4

The pack had arrived at around midnight, the moon was high and the town was asleep, yet the only place jake could bare to look was your window; shutters open and curtains drawn as they billow in the cool wind and if he squinted, he could make out a faint shadow of your silhouette in your bed, shoulders rising and falling as you slept in a deepened slumber. Could even make out the shape of his Stetson on your vanity. Maverick pat his back, “c’mon kid” he allowed them to let their horses into your ranch and penny had made accommodation in the vacant rooms above the saloon. His room was opposite yours. He sighed heavily as he shut his eyes, ready for a sleepless night mere metres from his old love. God, what had maverick gotten him into?

The next morning your dad had been the one to wake you up, opening your door quietly only to start coughing “daddy? Y’okay?” You ask, shooting up “yeah yeah darlin’, you bought new horses?” He asked, nodding to the window and you crease your brow, heading to look at the new additions to your ranch and you bit your lip harshly “no daddy, one minute I gotta go talk to Mav” you say sweetly, before not even taking the time to change from your night dress and heading straight across the street to the saloon, running up the stairs and banging harshly on the door where you knew maverick would be.

“Pete, you get your goddamned ass out here.” You shout and the door swung open, your uncle stood with his arms crossed over his chest “y’ brought ‘im back?” You growl and he nods “his god forsaken mare in my field? How dare you-“ he grabs you and pulls you inside. “Shut up.” He says “look, your daddy ain’t gonna be round much longer and you ain’t gonna settle down cause you’ll always be in love with a goddamn highwayman.” He hisses “I ain’t leaving you with no man and I ain’t making you live wi’ me ‘nd penny. You don’t want that” he tells you. You inhale sharply. “Go home, get dressed and get ya head screwed on, girl.” He says and you pivot, walking away without a second thought to pad across the road again and back up to your room. Where inside, you find your father turning the hat in his hands. “Horses were a gift from uncle Mav-” “your boy back in town, girl?” Your father cuts you off and you raise your brows, realising you’d forgot to move his hat. “No” “don’t-” he was cut off by incessant coughing “don’t lie to me girl, is he back?” You shake your head again “no daddy, you think too much. Travellers came by yesterday, one was worried about me gettin’ heat stroke and left me ‘is hat. Ain’t nothin’ more.” You say, fibbing through your lips. He throws you the hat that you catch and he stands, towering over you as he points accusingly at you “so why’s it say hangman in the hat?” He asks quietly and your throat runs dry “you sure this ain’t your hat, daddy? You’re the hangman round here ain’t ya?” You ask, looking up at him as he grits his jaw. “You’re lyin’ to me girl. If I find ‘im I’ll cut his balls off; then I’ll fuckin’ hang him” he promises “finally finish my job” he stalks past you and slams your door behind you. You sigh, clutching the hat in your grasp as your thumbs run over the damaged lacing keeping the leather bound together.

You look up and find a pair of eyes looking back at you, there he stood. The hangman. He licks his lips, as if apprehensive to do anything first. You lift the hat up, silently offering it back and he shakes his head, small smirk on his lips ‘keep it’ he mouths, walking out onto the balcony as you do the same. “Y’ shouldn’t be here, Jake.” You say “stop callin’ me that” he says “what? Jake? Your name ain’t it?” You ask “you’ve never called me Jake” “alright. Y’ shouldn’t be here, dead man” he shakes his head and looks around, street still deserted “my daddy knows you’re here” you say and he nods “I know” “get out, Jake. Don’t do this again” you say, wordlessly turning and shutting the shutters on your window to block him out. He wasn’t going to do that. He wasn’t going to leave you. Not again.

Later in the day, you’d headed into the Hard Deck, Hondo having told you that Penny was searching for you. “Afternoon Pen, y’alright?” You ask her as she wipes down tabletops in preparation for the saloon’s evening. “Ah, just the lady I wanted to see” she grins “can you help me tonight? Natasha’s gone West with her mister for a week or two. Fridays are always a busy shift” you hesitate. “Penny-” “y’ can’t avoid him forever, darlin” she says with a small, sympathetic smile. You huff “I know” you slink into one of the chairs by the bar and slump onto the bar, Penny moving to occupy the seat beside you. “Why won’t ya see him? He was here a long time before I was and Mav says y’ were head over heels. Why not now?” She questions and your head drops to rest in your hands.

“Well,” you begin, ready to delve into your mind to extract the memories you’d pushed so far away. “He came to Miramar when I was eighteen, highwayman.” She nods “came looking to loot, take some stuff ‘nd run like they all do. He’d came in here, time before it was the Hard Deck” you continue “came in for a drink, I was alone, servin’. Friday, actually” you laugh shortly “and this other gang came in, nasty bunch they were. Cain they called ‘im. Old man too. Causin’ trouble, tried to touch me” you look at her seeing if she was understanding what you were implying and you nods, resting a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Hell, Jake came in and beat ‘im to a pulp, gave ‘im a whiskey on the house” you recall “walked me home, right across the street” you reminisced “daddy hated ‘im. Turns out he had some business with Cain but he’d never come back to Miramar and he blamed Jake. I started sneaking round with ‘im. Even bought my lightnin’ over there. Fine mare. Must’ve cost a fortune” you inhale “but then someone had a go at the bank, and daddy was so certain it was the Daggers causin’ trouble, came home so damn angry. Insisted it was Jake. I started callin’ ‘im hangman.” You laugh “daddy told me that if he ever saw ‘im he’d hang ‘im and take the gold back from his pockets.” You sigh “then one night he came into my room, Jake was there, nearly met with the devil, y’know?” And she nods in response “gave daddy a stroke and damn near a heart attack. Got the shotgun and told ‘im to get out of his house. Said he’d hang ‘im.” Your lip quivers slightly as you swallow harshly. “Promised me he’d be back. 'Soon' he said” you scoffed “never came back. Never.” You sigh. “Looked after my daddy, helped ‘im recover. Always felt guilty, he still can’t speak right. Now he’s dying. He’d be find if I’d never met Jake.” “You can’t blame yourself, sweetheart.” Penny coos, caressing the side of your face “your daddy’s ol’ and mean” she says and you nod silently, she was right.

“Do y’not know why Jake left?” She asked and you creased your brows, posture straight as he question got you shooting up from the bar “what? Yeah my daddy ran ‘im out. Lyin’ bastard just never came back.” You sigh “your daddy said he’d hang him and make you kick the bucket.” She tells you and you shake your head “no, that’s not-” “Maverick was there” she tells you and you don’t know what to say. “God that man was willing to get hung for ya, baby. But couldn’t let you hang him. Couldn’t let ya live like that. Never came back.” She says.

“So who are ya really angry at?” You look at her in question. “Your daddy or your man?”

Chapter 2 | Chapter 4

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mrsterlingeverything · 1 year

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My ex / partner / friend / whatever the fuck we are wanted to buy me a cowboy hat but i told him to wait cuz theres all these different types and they all kinda mean different things and have different histories and a good one is like $70-$300+... also i feel like its kind of something to be earned like im literally about to be a horse trainer and ive been a ranch hand for almost a year but i still dont feel... ready...

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erzbethluna · 2 years

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I've been wondering... If Baz' dad is a wealthy ranch owner and a Ranch Guy all over, Im pretty sure Baz knows a thing or two about the ranch bussiness (he is a car guy, of course he is a horse guy. He named a horse breed in CO and in WS said the unicorn he drank was "free range". He is also studying economics, so he is ready to take over those ranch bussiness).

As the older heir and son, Im sure as fuck Baz spent most of his time in summer around cattle, knows how to drive a tractor, of course knows how to ride and take care of horses, and is versed in the art of agriculture and harvest seasons, knows about fertilizers, best time for certain fruits and vegetables to grow, and all that jazz.

This is why he is so aware and so angry about Simon trying to kill the dragon, and had a chimera on hand to antagonize Simon with. Is the same reason he is so tender with Simon's wings and tail. He is usted to handle animals, but also is kinda accustomed to see them as stock and food (kinda needed for his vampire needs, but easier growing in a ranch enviroment).

Ranch Baz is my new obsession.

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delicate-ray-of-sunshine · 10 months

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Just spent over 2 hours making the sim l will be using for the new Horse Ranch expansion pack that comes out July 20th. Meet Kourtnee Patterson. Giddy yup! Im so ready for July 20th! 💁🏾‍♀️🐴🤠

#sims4 #expansionpack #horseranch #sims4horseranch #blacksimmer #blackgirlsimmer #cowgirl #july20th

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carbuckety · 1 year

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AIEEEEE i was gone for a whole 3 day weekend with noooo internet!!! at a ranch ridin horses and having a grand ol time :))) but i hope everyone missed meeee because i am BACK and ready to reblog more george harrison *sunglasses*

ALSO WHEN I CAME BACK I FOUND OUT MY TOM PETTY AND THE HEARTBREAKERS VINYL HAD FINALLY ARRIVED SCREAMMM im listening to it right NOW YAY

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losieee · 13 days

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Brothers Salvage

Salutations kindred, and welcome back to Sims 4: Bloodlines!

Sims 4: Bloodlines is a fun little side project i started, where i want to recreate some of my favorite places from Vampire the Masquerade: Bloodlines in Sims 4 WITHOUT using any mods or cc!!

Since my last post the project has grown a bit and i have decided to make it into a full save file! However it will be a while before im ready to share more about that, but you can follow along on the blog i made for it @bloodlinessave (still a work in progress)

BACK TO THE BUILD! As you might be able to see i have build the hideout used by the Southland Slasher, Brothers Salvage! I decided to split it up into two builds the hideout/office and the scrapyard itself. Which still needs some work before its ready to be posted!

I made the build as close as i could to the game + some extra added stuff to give it more details and look better in Sims 4!

Build info

Built in Willow Creek - Riverside Roost

Residential - Tiny home tier 2

20x15

1Br, 1Ba

17,069 §

No CC

Expansion Packs: For Rent, Horse Ranch, Snowy Escape, Eco Lifestyle, Discover University, Island Living, Get Famous, Get Together, Get to Work

Game Packs: Werewolves, Journey to Batuu, StrangerVille, Parenthood, Vampires, Outdoor Retreat

Stuff Packs: Laundry Day

Kits: Basement Treasures, Everyday Clutter, Desert Luxe

Check out my other Sims 4: Bloodlines builds!

And check out the blog for the save file @bloodlinessave

Download (sfs) | Gallery ID: Losieee

RESHADE (My own preset, will be uploaded soon)

If you use my builds and upload screenshots, videos, edits or anyhting else, please @ me! I love to see them!

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miekasa · 3 years

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Mie, I’m begging for some Jean college au bf hcs - im literally so down bad for this man and the way you write men is just 🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻

Absolutely, not a problem 😌 I saved this ask as a draft a while ago when you sent it, sorry for just now getting to it. Anyway, I love Jean with my whole heart, best boy, best boyfriend <33

King of forehead kisses, and not even just because of his height in comparison to yours; he just likes it. He likes the feeling of pressing his lips against your skin, and making you feel safe.

Brings you tea or coffee however you like it every day without fail. If he can get it to you in the morning before work/school then he’ll do that, if not he’ll meet you some time in the middle of the day to drop it off. Your own personal courier just for drinks.

He… has a thing for long(er) nails. He loves the feeling of them against his skin, even if you’re not scratching to apply pressure—just you holding his hand them grazing his skin is enough for him.

That being said, he will pay for you to get your nails done. Actually, he’ll pay for… almost anything you want, but the nails benefit him as much as they do you so feel free to ball out.

He never blowdries his hair because he doesn’t... know how to do the back of it. You did it for him once and he hasn’t stopped thinking about it since, but he’s also too embarrassed to ask you to do/style it again.

On the subject of hair, he does do his best to style it and take care of it, but he’s a sucker whenever you play with it. Sometimes he feigns like you’re messing up all his hard work, but he’ll literally crane his head into your touch. He loves it.

The first time he lays on top of you and you run your hands through his hair... top 10 most euphoric moments of his life. He tries to fight off the sleep threatening to take over him, but it’s futile. Give it 15 minutes at most before he’s knocked out like a baby.

Dogs love him. Anytime you’re in a park or just taking a walk and there’s a dog around, it’ll come up to him and he looks adorable leaning down to pet it. He loves dogs, too! So he’s always happy to stop and pet them. He’d be a 10/10 dog dad.

Has your name saved in his phone with two hearts at the end. Do not point it out.

Loves taking pictures together and if you guys are on a date, he’ll ask someone to get a picture for him. He just likes having them to look back on (and to send to his mom, later).

He doesn’t mind painting classes or videos or tutorials, but he hates paint by numbers kits. He claims that they have no sense of color theory and that it takes the originality and fun out of painting. Not to mention the quality of the paints isn’t great to begin with; all of which he takes very seriously.

It’s pretty cute actually, to see him get worked up over the paint kits. He claims that painting and drawing isn’t even something he takes “that seriously,” it’s just a hobby for him (one he’s insanely good at); but in moments like these, you can tell that he’s way more into art and art theory and history than he lets on.

Huge movie guy, from animated movies to martial arts movies, Jean is usually willingly to give anything a watch at least once. When he’s high, he can go on about his favorite directors and art styles and movie details for hours if you don’t stop him. It’s super cute. Just don’t bring up Moana, because he’ll start crying.

Arm around the shoulder kind of boyfriend for sure. It’s a casual way of keeping you near him and letting everyone know that you guys are together. Plus it allows for him to easily pull you into him for a quick forehead kiss when needed.

Listen. If you hug his arm, he’s on cloud nine. He tries to be nonchalant about it but he’s about three seconds away from his eyes rolling back in his head it feels that good to him. Bonus if you lean your head on his bicep a little—then he’s a goner.

He takes his bagels very seriously and believes that both you and him deserve nothing but the best quality bagels. He’ll grumble if a bakery gives you guys a less than favorable one and make a note that taking the long route to get to his favorite place is much more worth it.

Always makes you walk on the side furthest from the cars. If he notices you’re not, he’ll just shuffle behind you until he’s shouldering the street and you’re on the inside.

He grew up on a kind of modern ranch situation; not exactly all the way in the countryside, but not isolate from the city, either. Because of this, he knows how to ride horses, take care of smaller farm animals, tend to plants, and yes he knows how to use a lasso. You wouldn’t know any of that though, because he never ever talks about it. The only way you find out is when he takes you to visit his mom’s house for the first time, and she asks him for a hand around the place.

(He’s got a cowboy hat, too, but refuses to put it on. He got it when he was, like, nine, okay, leave him alone).

When he thinks you look tired, he’ll wrap his arms around your shoulders to hug you. It’s usually followed up with a kiss to your head, and a promise that you guys will go home soon and get food on the way.

He’s a really good cook. He just understands and flavors and pairings really well, so he doesn’t need a recipe to make something that tastes good; he just kind of knows what to add to get the balance he’s looking for.

Naturally, he’ll cook for you. Especially if he finds out that you haven’t eaten all day/in a long time. He doesn’t care if it’s 11pm and it might seem excessive to make steak and potatoes with a side salad at this hour, he’s gonna do it to make sure you eat, and you are going to sit there and watch.

He also bakes pretty well, though he isn’t as experimental with his baking as he is with his cooking. He usually sticks to what he knows, and it’s not cupcakes and brownies and cakes; he’s better at croissants, and cheesecakes, and canelés.

Dating Jean means getting along with his friends. If you guys didn’t know each other before you started dating, be prepared to be ambushed by Connie and Sasha (after Jean stops hiding you away and gives them the green light lmfao). Neither of them waste time with the small talk and formalities; straight into mini golfing and beer pong. They make you feel welcome right away.

Sasha always teases that you’re too good for Jean, and that she might just steal you away for herself some day. Sasha is also Jean’s main confidant, so she really knows just how much he loves you, and yeah, she teases him for being lovesick, but really she’s happy for Jean. And proud of him for facing his feelings like this.

Connie adores you, and you know he trusts you when he starts going to you for advice/help. Could be anything from schoolwork, to what color he should get his new shoes in. He’s also the one who, surprisingly, you have the sentimental talks with about your relationship with Jean. It’s easy to overlook, but Connie loves Jean, and he’s come to love you too; he just wants you both to be happy, so he’s there to listen when you need it.

Jean waits outside of your classroom after you’ve had a test or presentation, usually with a drink or a snack, or the promise of taking you out as a treat. Always tells you he’s proud of you, and is there to comfort you if you think you didn’t do too well.

He does not shut up about whatever major you’re in. It could be the same as his; it could be the complete opposite as his. He thinks it’s so sick that you’re doing it, you make it look cooler, you make it look better, and he’s certain you’re the smartest person in your program.

He’s pretty serious about his studies, too, so he’s always down to study with you in the library whenever you’re both free. More often than not, he shows up after you, usually with food or extra chargers. He greets you with a kiss on the forehead, and asks you how you are while massaging your shoulders gently. If it’s been a while since you took a break, that’s the first item on the list, after that, he gets to work and stays with you until you’re ready to go, even if he doesn’t have as much work to do.

He always sits across from you. This goes for when you’re in the library, or out to eat at a restaurant; Jean loves sitting across from you. He gets to see your face the best that way, and he adores looking into your eyes when you talk.

He’s not... not a morning person. He’s not up at 6am ready to grind, but he wakes up before noon; let’s say 10am is his happy medium. That being said, if you wake up before him, regardless of the time, there’s a 9/10 chance he’ll lay on your back and tell you to hush so you guys can sleep for 10 more minutes.

If you’re (close) friends with Eren, Mikasa, and Armin, Jean is... happy you’ve got people to rely on, but, “Of all people on the planet, you put your trust in Jaeger?” He acts so bitter (because he is), but deep down inside, he’s glad you have Eren to rely on if you need to.

(Also, you have to humble him and remind him that he and Eren aren’t all that different. If you like him, why wouldn’t you get along with Eren, bye).

Turns out though, that it’s not Eren who threatens to beat him up if he breaks your heart. It’s not even Mikasa, although, her threat goes without saying; it’s Armin he’s terrified of.

The last time Armin hated someone, it was this guy in your program, who happened to share a few mutual classes with him, too. Jean never knew the full story, just that he’s pretty sure that kid dropped out the following semester.

If you have a job on campus, Jean usually doesn’t show up while you’re working (knowing how embarrassed he would be if you did that to him), unless you work the night shift and it’s dead. Connie, however, does show up; usually in some kind of crisis (“Please help me, I don’t know what the fuck APA formatting is and this is due tonight, please, please, please!!”). Your coworkers actually thought Connie was your boyfriend for a minute. That’s when Jean starts showing up more lmfao.

He makes it a point to go on a scheduled, night out, kind of date at least twice a month. He knows life gets busy with school and work and midterms, but he always makes sure you both set side a time to take a well-deserved break and be with each other.

He’s the romantic type, so these dates are pretty swoon worthy, too. Drive-in movies, nice dinners, classy art exhibits, Jean plans it all. On that note, he really likes planning dates; he just doesn’t like talking about them with his friends beforehand.

All in all, very romantic, very precious boyfriend. He’s always thinking about you, what you need, and how he can help you out. You’re one of his main priorities, and he just wants to treat you right.

#anonymous #when.... when.... WHEN IS IT MY TURN #aot x reader #jean x reader #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirstein x reader #aot imagines #no because he's the love of my whole life #jean fluff #jean smut #eren x reader

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katsumox · 3 years

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WAIT IM JUSY SEEING UR 1K EVENT — PLEASE SOUTHERN AU HCS W KATSUKI I BEG

JSHDVBKJHASB SASHA PLS U REALLY SPOILING ME OMG TIMW TO SCREAM,,,

southern katsuki who's a family man. says he hates kids with a passion, yet always envisions the future with you, two bigger brats running around with a little blond one on your hip. he says he wants boys, but lord knows he'd be a great girl dad.

southern katsuki who's way too particular about his work hats. from the brand and the color, all the way to what you call em. he'll scoff and huff at ya when you call 'em cowboy hats because "i ain't a boy. i'm a man, dammit." like, boy, shut up and tend to the damn horses.

southern katsuki who can't carry a tune for shit but will scream church bels by carrie underwood just to hear ya laugh. he thinks your laugh sounds like "heaven's angels singin' er some shit like that." he'd never tell ya that though. he'd much rather tell ya that you sound like wilbur, the ranch house hog. rude as all hell.

southern katsuki whose hands never falter when leading you in a dance. he's strong and self assured, though his hands are calloused from working day in and day out. he's warm, and almost inviting, if it weren't for the damn permanent scowl on his face.

southern katsuki who'll compliment you in the oddest way. "alright, lil rodeo royalty, no need to show out," when you do something more than half decent. don't let him get to ya, he's just emotionally stunted.

southern katsuki who gives gifts all the time with rodeo money. last time it was bejewelled bellbottoms with jewels on the back pockets, the next time, a promise ring, to get you ready for the real one. what can i say? he's a family man, through and through.

taglist!

@shotos-noodles @sobaluvr @yuujisbby @katsumiiii @silkylious @asaincy uhhhh idk who else >:)

#katsumox 1k special !#bakugou x reader #bakugou imagine #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou fluff #bnha x black!reader #bnha headcanons #bnha x reader #bnha x poc!reader #bakugou x fem!reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #bnha x y/n #bnha x you #bakugou x black reader #bakugou x poc!reader

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one-boring-person · 3 years

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You forced this upon yourself😂 you forced this rambo simp.(and i dont mind)

Okay this may not be as good! But! Im giving you the liberty to take it where you want!(because i love your little details and how you express the feeling in your writing i- AH! Its great. I cant say it enough, it’s great. I mean it.)

How about Rambo finally getting enough courage to show The rancher around the tunnels, in a date sort of way!(they don’t know thats actually where he lives. Aka that photo i showed you before.) i really saw how the rancher was so happy to have him at their house, I’d love to see rambos side of scheduling a house tour and date type deal!! Maybe him even sitting and showing the rancher through all his old photos, and them just in awe because wow. He’s so much cooler than they even thought! He just so nervous and surprised seeing them so interested in him after all this time alone, and them just- in awe of him.

( i also really think it would be funny seeing rambo go through his friends house and seeing-“why the hell you have so many plants???” And just. Adorable assassin living with a wholesome and loving hardworking s/o)

Ah! Im sorry if that’s not as good!! But hey, you feel free to describe their antics and relationship as you will!!

I think I may have run a bit with this, but I hope you like it regardless!😊💛

I've Got Your Back, You've Got Mine.

John Rambo (Rambo IV/V) x reader

Warnings: mention of death, mention of war, mention of injury, mention of PTSD, mention of violence, (possible flash warning for gif?)

Masterlist

The heavy knock on the door surprises me where I'm sitting, the sharp sound snapping me from my thoughts. Looking over at it from my position at the table, I frown and set down my spoon, standing to go answer, unsure of who it is: I'm not expecting anyone today. Colt looks up from his place on the floor, the dog just as curious as I am as to whom it may be, though he doesn't bark, so it must be someone we know. He watches me as I cross the room, going straight to the door.

Opening it, I'm somewhat surprised to see my neighbour, John, standing there, a tentative smile on his face as he looks me over appreciatively, his gaze drawing a blush to my face.

"Mornin' (Y/n)." He greets, rough voice friendly as he waits for me to let him in.

"Morning John." I smile back, delighted to see him, "What can I do for you?"

I step back, waiting for him to enter, which he does so with a nod of thanks.

"Since when have I needed a reason to see you?" The veteran chuckles, the sound reverberating within me, my brain subconsciously storing the action away for later recall. Gently, John moves into my space, one hand coming to lightly rest on my hips as the other cups my face, drawing me in for a slow kiss.

Kissing back, I feel a glow of happiness flare up in me at this contact: he's never really one to initiate touch like this, so it's a whole lot more intimate when he does. Relaxed, I loosely wrap my arms around his neck, languidly caressing his dark hair as our lips move together.

Being the killjoy he often loves to be, Colt pushes in between us, nosing at John's leg, tail wagging enthusiastically as he recognises the familiar man, the dog as fond of his company as I am. Chuckling, John and I pull apart, looking down at the large canine between us, the dark eyes staring up at us imploring us to pay attention to him. Still smiling, John lowers a hand to scratch Colt's head, ruffling his floppy ears a little as the dog instantly allows his mouth to hang open, tongue lolling in content.

"Hey, Colt." The veteran greets, biting back a laugh as the dog pushes me out of the way, nudging at John's stomach.

"He never gets that excited to see me." I complain jokingly, standing back to watch the two interact, a smile playing at my lips.

"Sure he does." John replies, eyes fixing on mine with an expression of fondness, one that had me weak at the knees.

"He really doesn't, he just sits in the corner and whines at me until I feed him. Isn't that right?" I address the dog himself, giving him a light slap on the rear, his ridiculous height meaning I can quite easily reach it, "Anyhow, did you need something? Or did you just come here to kiss me? I can't say I'll complain if that's the case."

Cheekily, I wink at the veteran, leaning back against a nearby counter.

"As nice as that sounds, it's not the reason I came by." He chuckles, blushing lightly, "Though that does sound good."

Grinning, I nod my agreement, only now taking in his body language: he's nervous. His hands fidget, rubbing his fingers over scars and lines on his palms, and he shifts from foot to foot every now and then, small tells he's never quite managed to hide from me.

"Is something up?" I ask him, slightly more serious this time, unnerved by his discomfort.

"No, no, not at all. I, err, well, I just wanted to ask you something." He rubs the back of his neck, head tilted to the side as he regards me, dark eyes fixed on mine.

"Ok, go for it." I prompt him, curiosity sparking my interest.

"Well, do you wanna come to mine? I mean properly, like in the house." John cocks his head to the side, lowering his arm again.

Blinking, I feel shock flood my system, before it turns to unbelievable happiness that he's trusting me enough to come into his private space. Initially, I can't find the right words, somehow struggling to respond, until I find my tongue again.

"I would love to, John." I agree, features lighting up as my mood brightens, "There's nothing I've really got to do today except train up one of the younger horses, so I've got as long as you want after that."

"Great. Is four o'clock alright?" The veteran smiles broadly, though he still looks somewhat nervous.

"Yeah, should be. I'll be there." I promise him, taking up my Stetson from the table as I briefly turn away to put away the plate I was using, having lost my appetite in my sudden excitement.

"I'll get it tidy." He says, looking around the room again, "I'll never understand why you have so many plants in your house. It's like a damn jungle."

At his comment, I laugh loudly, glancing around at the variety of different houseplants I have placed on various shelves, the greenery practically covering every available surface.

"Because it's way too dry to grow anything like this outside all the time. Anyway, they look nice." I shrug, calling Colt to my side as I follow John from the house, grabbing my jacket from the hook as I pass.

"But why so many?"

Once again, I shrug, following him over to a nearby post, where he's hitched Bandit, the horse I gave him a few months ago. The buckskin stallion paws at the ground, his pale coat looking as clean as ever even as he noses at the dust, the dark colouring around his eyes (the reason for his name) and legs standing out much more in the bright sun. As we approach, he looks up, snorting in greeting.

"He's looking good." I acknowledge, admiring the strong stallion appreciatively - I had reared Bandit from a foal, before I had given him to the veteran as a gift four months ago, hoping it will help him to grow his own ranch. My plan had worked, and John now has four horses, including Bandit, as well as a couple of other animals, such as a cow, a pig and five chickens. I'd sold him a couple of goats as well, but we soon found out that John and goats just didn't get along. At all.

"Yeah, he's doing well, too. Takes the training very well, too." John runs a hand through the stallion's dark mane, untying the reins.

"That's good. Reckon he'll be ready for a competition soon?"

"Should be."

Snorting again, Bandit pulls at the reins, clearly eager to get going, especially as Colt moves up to sniff at the horse's back legs. I quickly whistle him over, knowing Bandit has always been shifty around the dog.

"I'll see you at four then." I finally say, unwilling to say goodbye, even if it is only for a few hours.

"Yeah, see you then." John smiles, leaning in to kiss me again, keeping it brief this time, leaving me wishing for more, as he always does.

"See ya." I grin, watching him climb into the saddle, still somehow fluid in doing so despite his age.

Gathering the reins in hand, John adjusts himself in the saddle, before he smiles down at me again as he gently urges Bandit into motion. Obediently, the stallion moves into a swift trot, which turns into a faster canter as the two move off down the driveway, heading towards the split in the fence separating our land. I watch as they go, still finding myself enraptured by the sight of the muscular man sat astride the horse, Colt eventually snapping me from my mind as he barks at me. Shaking my head, I follow him towards the stable.

Hours later, having showered and cleaned up, I feel a sense of relief go through me as I hoist myself into the saddle secured into place on Leo's back. It's relaxing, the stallion beneath me more relaxed than the youngster I've been trying to train all day: she never gave me a break. Seemingly sensing this, as he always does, Leo flicks his ears back and nickers softly, very lightly pawing the ground as I give him a pat on the neck, glad to have a more reliable horse taking me where I need to be.

Tilting back my Stetson, I take the reins in hand and ease the stallion into a trot, intending to let him pick up his own pace, my trust in this horse far greater than in the mare from before. Obediently, Leo moves into the correct gait, the two of us moving as if as one, years of riding together having made it easy for us to become in tune with each other. Together, we start off down the road towards John's ranch, the new path we've created beaten and well-used, allowing for relatively easy riding. Leo's hooves pound the dry ground rhythmically, my hips moving in time with his every stride, the relaxing movement helping to calm the nerves that have sprung up inside me.

A part of me is still unconvinced about going into John's home. Yes, I had helped him rebuild it and had seen very little of the inside rooms, but it still feels as if I'm intruding upon the veteran's safe space, his reprieve from the cruelty of the world he lives in. Something about that doesn't sit right with me, but I tell myself it's John's decision to make, not mine, so I should trust him, which I do, wholeheartedly.

I'm still torn by the time I reach the main house, where John is already sat waiting for me in his rocking chair, dark eyes fixed on me as I approach. Lifting a hand to him, I smile and slow Leo to a halt, praising the horse as I climb down, the gray stallion nosing affectionately at me. Swiftly, I tie him to a nearby post, only to stop when John calls out to me.

"Put him in the stable for the night." He instructs me, gesturing for me to follow him as I try to fight back the sudden onslaught of racing thoughts at his implications: he wants me to stay the night?

"Sure, thanks." I smile back at him, walking after him with Leo in tow.

"Don't worry about it. It's not fair on him if he has to stay out all night." John waves me off with a short grin, "How'd training go?"

I groan.

"Not great. That horse has it in for me, I swear." I complain, rubbing at my arm, remembering the moment I got the new bruise forming there.

"Oh yeah?" He muses, looking amused.

"Yeah. She threw me off eight times!"

"Eight times? Wow, must be a new record." The veteran jokes, something that stirs up the familiar fondness inside me at his more personable behaviour.

"I reckon so. Painful one to set, though, I'll tell you." I remark, smiling broadly as we enter the stable, where I quickly house Leo next to Bandit, removing his tack and other gear.

"Must be." John watches me work, leaning against the door to the large building, muscular arms crossed over an equally muscular chest. Turning back to him, I have to stop and admire the bulging of his biceps as his hands grip his forearms, the veins I've come to love laying out a pattern on the tanned limbs. Everytime I see them, I imagine his strong arms wrapped around me, holding me safe and secure against his solid body, wishing I could feel his hands splayed against me more often.

"Like what you see?" John interrupts my thoughts, voice teasing as he lifts an eyebrow at me, almost smirking at me.

Blushing furiously, I avert my gaze, lifting a hand to gently tap the brim of my Stetson out of my vision.

"You know I do." I laugh nervously, before I look back up at him, "Anyway, since when do you use pickup lines?"

"Since I figured out they get you all flustered." His playful tone is new to me, though it's gone almost as soon as I see it, his guarded expression falling back into place as he returns within himself, probably thinking he overstepped some invisible boundary.

I still can't help stammering for a response, his gruff tone awakening something within me.

"Heh, I guess you're right." I stutter, going over to him.

Nodding, he keeps his expression straight, leading me out back to the house, where he quickly welcomes me inside.

"I tried to tidy it as much as possible, but it's still a bit messy." The veteran apologises, observing the interior of his home critically, even as I do so in awe.

The rooms, from what I can see, are mostly filled with sparse furniture, a few chairs here and there, an old sofa, a couple of vanities and dressers, with a mantlepiece in most, if not all, of them. He hasn't used much colour, but what he has used is tasteful and works well with the overall appearance. The walls, however, are what really draw me into the place.

They are littered with photographs and memorabilia, frames and objects cleaned and polished so they shine brightly in the afternoon sun, many smiling faces visible in them. Curious, I go over to one wall, looking over the array of pictures, which I now recognise to be images of John and his friends from the years he spent here. Amongst them is a creased black and white photo of a young John sat astride a horse not unlike Bandit, a broad grin on the boy's face as he stares at the camera from under a mop of thick black hair. I can feel a small smile creep onto my face at the sight of the veteran looking so happy and carefree, something I've not seen very much of at all in my time around him.

"That was my first horse, Hector. I had him until I left for the army." John says from behind me, sounding somewhat quiet, eyes softened from nostalgia as he stares at the picture along with me, "I loved him a lot, but my father always said he wasn't good enough."

His words hang in the air as I stay speechless, listening intently to what he's saying to me: it's the first I'm hearing about his life before he came here again.

"What happened to him? Hector, I mean." I ask him quietly, tearing my eyes away to look up at John.

The veteran shrugs, appearing somewhat remorseful.

"I'll never know, but I reckon my father sold him as soon as I was gone."

"Oh." I frown, glancing back at the photograph.

"The horse was getting old by that time, though. He probably wasn't much use." John chuckles wryly, moving away towards the stairs nearby, "Do you want to see upstairs?"

"Yeah, sure." I nod, following him as he ascends to the second floor, which I now see consists of three different rooms.

He takes me to the farthest, opening the door to reveal an old study, which looks as if it hasn't been used in a good few years.

"This was my father's study, where he did all his business. I was never allowed in here as a kid." John sweeps his arm around the room, staying by the threshold, as if abiding by a rule that no longer exists, "Not that I go in here that much as an adult."

I look around, finding the neat area interesting: images of a young John hovering by the door, waiting for his father to finish business entering my head.

"It's nice, I like it." I remark, turning to find him smiling very slightly at me.

"It's the only room in the house that's exactly as it used to be. I haven't had time to do up the others properly." John says, leaving the study and going back down the hall, where he opens the other two doors to reveal a bathroom and an empty room.

A dull curiosity flares up within me as I realise one thing about the top floor, but I easily find a solution to it, following John back down the stairs. As we go, however, I realise that my assumption is wrong, as the only other rooms down here are missing the one thing I'd expect in any house.

"Where do you sleep? I haven't seen a bed or anything anywhere." I ask him, cocking my head to the side as he takes me to one final door.

"I'm gonna show you." He smiles at me, before he opens the door.

I blink as I see the dark steps descending into the ground, unease biting at my throat as I flash John a hesitant look. A cool draft wafts up from the black depth, but John only chuckles and moves down into the space below, gesturing for me to follow.

"It's perfectly safe, don't worry." He calls to me, a light flickering on as he reaches the bottom of the steps, illuminating the path to me.

Swallowing, I gingerly step down the stairs, emerging into a tunnel of sorts, my curiosity piqued as I take in the chiselled walls around me, the rock cast in an odd light from the naked bulbs positioned along the length of the cavern. Struts of wood hold the ceiling steady, wiring hanging off of them in places where he's had to hastily put it all together. John watches as I take in the passage, a thoughtful look in place on his face.

"What is this place?" I wonder aloud, still taken aback by the oddity of having a tunnel beneath the house that stretches off in both directions.

"This is my safe space." The veteran informs me, urging me along with him as we go further into the tunnel, walking together for a minute before we emerge out into a larger room of sorts, which is well lit.

My eyes widen as I realise exactly what he means.

The room acts as his bedroom and bathroom, and also has space to sit and relax, the whole area having a homely feel to it. What was missing in the rooms in the house can be found down here, including more photographs, though these ones seem different to the others. They adorn the walls, all except one, which is decorated with a variety of weapons, both guns and knives. Going over to it, I look over the rifles and shotguns hooked onto the wall, struck speechless as I then turn my attention to a machete, the blade honed but chipped from use, seemingly out of place as it hangs beside another, smaller hunting knife.

Moving on, I regard the photographs, only now realising that they're military pictures, many of them containing images of a youthful John in fatigues and uniform. A smile creeps back onto my lips as I feel my eyes land on a particular image of a group of men, where I can see John standing amongst them, a triumphant grin on his face, long locks of dark hair held back by a strip of fabric around his head. The others also smile, though there's something bittersweet about the inscription at the corner of the photo: Baker Team, Vietnam. As I look past the other pictures, I notice that the team slowly dwindles, beaming faces becoming drawn and solemn, eventually just leaving two people behind. Beneath this image is another inscription: Baker Team Survivors.

"That was my team in 'Nam." John says suddenly, voice husky as he remembers the friends he had, "None of them made it back. Not really."

Eyes wide, I look back at him, taking in the distant look in his own eyes, the barely concealed grief still raw in his expression as he stares at the photographs. Noticing my gaze, John gestures for me to come sit on the edge of his bed with him, the veteran pulling another photograph from it's place on his bedside table. Doing so, I make sure I'm not touching him, but am close enough to reassure him, waiting patiently for him to start talking of his own accord, knowing that this is a sensitive subject for him.

After a moment, he starts, his voice low as he pulls me into his stories, taking me through suffocating jungles and blistering heats, through recon and rescue missions, through bloody gunfights and hellfire, through hours spent in torturous situations. He puts me in his shoes as he loses every single member of his team to the gruesome fight he should never have fought, the harrowing grief and pain of letting go of a comrade, someone who's supposed to be by your side for as long as the two of you can stay alive, laid bare for me to see and experience. And even as he moves on, back to familiar territory in the States, the fight never leaves him.

Facing harassment in what should be his safety and security, I can feel every bit of betrayal, of anger and grief that he felt as he is let down by his own country time after time, used again and again by the authorities to do their dirty work, only to be cast aside when it doesn't go their way, the old catchphrase he once lived by, "I've got your back, you've got mine" completely meaningless in this hollow life. His disgust in humanity is plain to me as he outlines his most recent forays into warfare, where the rage he felt is once again transferred to me, and I experience the violent need to take out the parasites in the world that destroy anything good that he did. It's as if I'm there with him, through everything, his description and memories so vivid they chill me to the core, keeping me hooked on his every word.

After a long while, he eventually trails off, and I realise there's a tear rolling down his cheek, his body shaking a little as he holds himself back. My heart breaking, I have to fight the urge to reach out and pull him into an embrace, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. I place my hand on his shoulder instead, rubbing the tight muscles soothingly until he looks up at me with the most heart-rending gaze I've ever seen in my life. At that point, my resolve breaks.

Carefully, I lean in and wrap my arms around his shoulders, pulling the veteran towards me. He goes willingly, sobs wracking his body as he wraps his own hands around me, burying his face into my neck, tears flowing freely now as he lets himself go, each pained sound agonising to hear. Tightening my grip, I lay back onto the bed, allowing him to press his body around me, holding me against his muscular form as I rub his back, whispering soothing things to him as his breathing starts to calm a little. It takes time, but eventually he starts to relax, body going limp as he lays in my arms, his larger form awkwardly wrapped around mine as he depresses his face into the crook of my neck.

I barely hear his broken voice as he whispers to me.

"Thank you."

Breathing in his familiar scent, I just mould myself closer, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead as he does the same to my neck.

"I'm here for you, John. I'm here, and I'll never leave. Not as long as I live, I promise."

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