We need to talk. I want to start off by saying there’s a trigger warning bc I will be talking about a sensitive subject, grape but no g.
I’m not here to post a story or anything but I’m here to talk about something much more important…We are need to be weary of what we post about Austin regarding sensitive topics. It has came to my attention by fellow writers and good friends of mine. We do not tolerate anything such as this piece right here. You have to understand that as humans with tumblr we have a freedom of speech but just because we can say some things does NOT mean we should. Rape is not something we should be writing about in the first place. That is an awful, nasty, and disgusting thing to make a story about. Austin is a human being we have the privilege of getting to watch and write about. He does not deserve to have such vile things written alongside his name. I do not want to make this all long and drawn out do I’ll end with this, think before you post. What would Austin say to that horrible stuff. I’m disappointed in those who think that shit is okay.
He lavishes your mouth in pure, unfiltered adoration. Despite your face being his favorite sight in the world, his eyes scrunch closed to properly survey and relish in the feeling of your mouth on his. The overwhelming privilege of being able to slot his tongue against yours, to taste it as it meets his with the same fervor and earnest, he is unsparing of the attention he feeds you.
If that’s not the definition of generosity, then surely the way his hands roam your body explicate it. His palms flit over your curves, fingers molding to the crevices, always a pressure there to lock you into place against him in case you’ll somehow dissipate into thin air.
But that’s what it takes. Bountiful touching. Charitable loving. A prodigal and cemented affection he harbors for you and desperately wishes to convey within the limitations of being unfairly human.
do you know how you want the story to end when you start, or are you just stumbling through the figurative wilderness hoping to find a road?
talk about a notable time a narrative or character has looked you dead in the eyes and said “fuck your plan, here’s what we’re actually doing.”
on a scale of 1-10 how much do you enjoy incorporating romance into the average story?
what is the plot bunny you’ve been carrying for the longest? optional bonus question: do you ever wonder why you haven’t written it yet and experience deep existential dread?
have you ever made a playlist about something you were writing as an elaborate means to procrastinate when you could have been actually writing and if yes drop a link, son
do you have any kind of consistent writing schedule or just hoping for the best?
tell us about the plot of the first fanfic you ever wrote
what’s your relationship with constructive criticism and feedback like? do you seek it out? how well do you take it?
in an ideal world where you’re already super successful and published, would you want to see a tv or movie adaptation of your work? why or why not?
at what point in the process do you come up with titles, and how easy or hard is that for you?
what’s something neat you’ve learned while doing research for something you were writing? also, how much do you worry about doing research in general?
do you ever have trouble focusing on writing? how do you get around that?
talk about a writing experience that has pleasantly surprised you.
what’s your worst writing habit?
where do you share your writing?
where is your favorite place to write?
what is your favorite line you’ve ever written?
what is your most and least favorite part of writing?
what are some books or authors that influenced your style the most?
what is your favorite trope to write?
pick a writer to co-write a book with and tell us what you’d write about.
describe your writing process from scratch to finish.
how do you deal with writers block?
on average, how much writing do you get done in a day?
what’s your revision or rewriting process like?
do you like to write one-shots or series, and why?
do you share rough drafts or do you wait until it’s all polished? 28. And who do you share them with?
handwritten notes or typed notes?
give us a spoiler for one of your stories.
most inspirational quote you’ve ever read or heard that’s still important to you.
tell us about one of your characters who’s an absolute joy to write
do characters influence your writing style?
do you start with the characters or the plot when writing?
how do you name characters and places?
tell us about a character who’s very different than you who you love a whole lot
do you base your characters of real people or not? If so, tell us about one.
when creating characters, what comes first: appearance, backstory, motivation, personality, something else?
how many stories do you work on at one time?
are you an avid reader?
best piece of feedback you’ve ever gotten.
what is the weirdest story idea you’ve ever had.
describe the aesthetic of a story in 5 words.
how did writing change you?
any writing advice you want to share?
name three of your favorite fanfic writers.
what time are you the most productive when it comes to writing?
what story are you most proud of?
do you reread your own stories?
do you want to be published some day?
do you plan or do you write whatever comes to your mind?
share the synopsis of a story you work on that you haven’t published yet
how many unfinished ideas/stories are you working on at the same time?
when writing, do you have an outline? and do you stick to it?
what’s a common writing tip that you almost always follow?
do you have any abandoned WIP’s? What made you abandon them?
five years from now, where do you see yourself as a writer?
what is the last thing that a fic made you google when you were reading it?
what is the last thing that a fic made you google when you were writing it?
where is the most dangerous place that you’ve read fic?
where is the most dangerous place that you’ve written fic?
what was the first commercial property (book/movie/tv show/etc) that you realized was actually professional fanfiction?
what’s the weirdest reason you’ve ever shipped something?
what’s the best insult you’ve read in a fic?
what is your favourite title for a fic you’ve read?
what is your favourite title for a fic you’ve written?
when have you felt the most confident in your writing?
when have you felt the least confident?
how long will you spend on a story or scene before you give up?
how do you write emotional scenes? do you ever feel what the characters feel?
are you very critical of your own writing? how much do you find yourself editing (either during the writing or after the fact)?
how do you balance writing and life? do you ever feel overwhelmed by the amount of writing you have to do?
what do you do if a scene gets too serious?
how do you visualize scenes? do you see it like a movie in your head, or do the words just flow?
are you a planner, pantser, or planster?
do you know how your story ends before you start writing?
what is one essential thing to remember when writing a villain?
how do you write kissing scenes?
how do you choose where to end a chapter?
are you an over-writer, under-writer, or just-right-er?
do you try to put themes, motifs, messages, morals, etc in your writing? if so, how do you go about it?
if you could go back in time and give your younger self a piece of writing advice specific to you, what would it be?
“proper” punctuation or all lowercase?
less is more or more is more?
said: overused or underused?
what would be on a moodboard for your current wip(s)?
which season best matches the mood of your wip(s)?
does your writing style change depending on the genre you write?
if you could have another author write your wip for you (bc we all dream of this occasionally), who would it be?
sarcastic narrators: entertaining or overdone?
do you notice your own voice in your writing style?
how has your writing style changed over the years?
first, second, or third person?
do you hear other people’s writing styles when they talk?
do you prefer dialogue or description?
do you describe a character’s appearance all right away or in pieces?
romantic/social sideplots: interesting or irritating?
abstract or detailed romance scenes?
what don’t you like about your writing style?
was being a writer a dream of yours when you were little? or did it spring up when your older? or is it just a hobby?
open question to the writer.
a compiled list of asks for me to reference. they are not my own. just some of my favorite questions i’ve picked out from a couple different lists. feel free to reblog and use too!!
austin butler - are you looking for trouble, honey?
warnings ; infidelity, usage of toys, penetration, orgasm denial, public play
prompt ; in which you’re the “other woman.”
a/n ; y’all put this idea in my head so here it is. cheater!austin but don’t worry you’re also the bad guy. two wrongs apparently make a right but like not really also kaia if you ever read this i’m so sorry bestie it’s just for the plot
destinado a morir - miguel
｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆
it’s one of those things where you’re not entirely sure how it started.
maybe it started when your best friend, kaia gerber, introduced you to her new boyfriend, who you assumed was for the month, austin butler, and when you two shook hands, it felt as though you had been zapped by electricity. when you had gazed into his ice-blue eyes, an angry swarm of butterflies or bees or whatever whimsical insect with wings had fluttered within the pits of your stomach.
maybe it started when you three had gone out to a bar, getting incoherently drunk and wobbling back to your respective hotel rooms, but austin had lingered out in the hallway, peering at you longingly.
maybe it started when he had placed a hand over yours, comforting you at your most vulnerable state and whispering sweet nothings in your ear.
or, maybe, just maybe, it started when he kissed you for the first time, underneath the dim lights of the almost-empty bar, as kaia slept peacefully and unknowingly in her bed only a few miles away.
maybe you need to confront the fact that despite your budding feelings and secret meetings and forlorn conversations, it doesn’t matter how it started; it has to end.
“fuck, baby,” he groans out, bottoming into you and filling you to the brim, tears lining your eyes as he stretches you out completely. it’s a daily occurrence, and you should be used to the way your walls tense around his cock, but somehow, he feels bigger tonight. his head lazily falls into the crook of your neck, “you’re so tight. not fucking anybody else but me, right?”
it’s laughable — the way you harness yourself to him, crumble at every word he says, powerless under his spell — but you know better than to go against him when he’s in a mood. you bite back your sarcastic remark, brain jumbled into senseless words as he fucks you with deep, slow strokes, enough to make you submissive and at his mercy. “n-no, aus. i don’t want anyone else but you,” it comes out as more of a breathy moan, a concoction of filthy promises.
“good girl,” he mutters into your hair, his pace steady as he places a hand on your lower stomach, pressing down gently, feeling his length glide into you to meet his hand. he smirks at the sensation, looking back up at your cock-drunk expression, nothing but insatiable hunger coursing through your veins.
you’re not intoxicated in the slightest; it’s just your average tuesday night, in your apartment on the upper west side, the sound of cars honking and the slight breeze brushing your skin from your cracked window, just your typical evening where you let him annihilate your morals and destroy your life. somehow, in that bed, in those silk sheets, you feel drunk. that’s the only way you can justify letting him into your home routinely.
“you always feel so good,” he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, plunging deeper inside of you and speeding up, and your response is nothing short of a whimper. it’s a meek sound that keeps him entangled with your skin, enough to let him know that you’re wrapped around his finger, and enough to remind him you’re never leaving, despite what you may say once everything is all said and done.
he leans his body back a bit, gazing into your eyes that have glazed over with lust. you’re not even sure you’re a person anymore, just a shell of who you once were before this whole thing started. one hand moves from your lower stomach to your neck, firmly gripping onto it. your oxygen is cut short, incoherent thoughts floating your brain. he’s taking you all in; your fucked-out expression, the heaving of your chest, the bite marks he left on your shoulder glistening with his saliva, and for a glimmer of a second, he almost feels guilty for doing this to you.
but only for a second.
you wrap your feeble hand around his wrist, hoping he’ll loosen his grip. he does, just a little, just to see you sigh with relief as he adjusts his pace inside of you. the sound of your juices squelching with each thrust fill the room, small moans spilling from your lips, “p-please don’t stop,” you beg, your lip tucked in between your upper teeth as you lie there at his indulgence.
he just chuckles at how silly and pathetic you sound, his other free hand reaching down to press a finger against your clitoris. that elicits a yelp from you as he rubs circles into your bundle of nerves, stimulating your entire body and shooting fireworks through every limb. you sink into the mattress, body trembling with delight. he knows you’re close, but despite that knowledge, he cares more about his own release; only because he’s well aware that you’ll cum regardless. he is cognizant of the way he controls your mind and body, the way he can maneuver you and make you his private property, to be touched and seen only by him.
with his hand wrapped firmly around your throat, other focused on pleasing your clit, he says through gritted teeth, “look at you, a fucking mess. you’re a fucking slut for me.”
you nod. the voice you use to speak to people, to confidently argue for yourself, is eradicated, dwindled down to nothing but breathy moans and nods. you hate the person you’ve become. “being such a good girl for me, taking my entire cock in your tight little pussy,” his grip on your throat tightens, enough to make you choke on any response you could muster.
you’re taking everything he’s putting out, like the good girl he repeatedly says you are. you’re a good girl when you remind him to take his vitamins in the morning, you’re a good girl when you make him breakfast, you’re a good girl when you take his cock in your mouth to completion, you’re a good girl when you look in your best friend’s eyes and pretend her boyfriend’s tongue was never in between your folds. he continues to pound into you mercilessly, his pace increasing at the thought of meeting his release.
his consistent moans wrap around you like silk. “i’m so fucking close, baby,” he’s now moving like he’s on springs, so desperate and so needy for his semen to exit out of him. and although it’s a nightly occurrence for him to be in your bed, to be skin-to-skin, he still feels the same as he did the first time; absorbed in your body, crashing down, down, down.
“you’re all mine, [y/n]. do you understand me?” he speaks in between thrusts, hips rutting as he paints your walls with his thick semen. small spasms elicit from his limbs, riding down his high. you let him come inside you, not for the first time, and you reach your orgasm within seconds, just like he knows you would. his head falls into the nook of your shoulder, teeth grazing over his previous bite marks. “all mine.”
the absurdity of his statement should make you chuckle — the fact that he’s laid up in another girl’s bed while his girlfriend sleeps a few miles away, empty promises of him coming to see her still in her text messages — but you’re cock-drunk, hypnotized, to say the least. so, you agree, and you fall for his trap, the one that keeps you tied to him for eternity. “i’m all yours.”
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
later that week, when you’re positioned in a chair at a five-star restaurant, remote-control vibrator nestled in between your folds, best friend and her boyfriend seated across from you, said boyfriend has access to the settings of the vibrator: you’ll start to realize you might have taken it too far.
“i feel like you guys need to be closer.”
kaia, you don’t want that. really, you don’t. plus, we don’t need to be any closer.
“really? i don’t know, i think i’m okay with where our relationship is at,” you smile feebly, and you pray she can’t see how pale you’ve turned, even though it is the middle of the day and you’re strolling down a crowded street.
but ever so oblivious kaia doesn’t bat her eyes at your reaction. instead, she chuckles, pushing her sunglasses higher up on her nose, “you’re my best friend, [y/n]. i want you guys to be close,” pause. “plus, i think i might really like him.”
you’ve heard those words exit her mouth before. in fact, it was a daily occurrence. she really liked him. she was a girl in love, a girl too kind and too sweet for her own good. your body falls limp, guilt washing over you as it always does. you want to scream at her, tell her to open her eyes, to realize that the reason why austin neglects to respond to her texts after 2 a.m is because he’s curled up in your bed, barbarically making you his. but, instead of the yells and the screams that beg to be heard, you say, “listen, i don’t know about close. how about… friendly acquaintances?”
“that’s basically what you guys are now,” she says matter-of-factly, sipping her green smoothie.
you groan in false annoyance, “i don’t get it. i wasn’t close to jacob, and you guys dated for like, a year!”
“you literally told me you hated him the first time you met him.”
okay, well-played. back when you were a better friend, someone kaia could actually trust, her only confidante in this shallow world beside her mother, you told her jacob wasn’t in it for the long haul. needless to say, you were right and they had parted ways. and despite your inner knowledge that austin also wasn’t in it for the long haul, you kept that tucked away in your brain, somewhere between a secret and a lie, something that would hurt her more if she knew the truth.
“well, i wasn’t wrong, was i?” you joke.
“how about one dinner? just one, and if it ends up being the worst thing in the world, i will personally deliver all the alcohol in the world to your doorstep,”
she drives a hard bargain; she always does. the girl has known you since you were still in your awkward phase, unsure of how to strut on a runway and not look like you were trampled by a bus beforehand, it should make sense, right? despite that, she might not know you as well as she thinks, because right under her nose, was the blatant reason why you couldn’t hang out with her boyfriend for more than 20 minutes at a time.
“i don’t know, kaia…”
“come onnn! please,” she looks at you with puppy dog eyes, ones that would usually make you fold in a heartbeat. this time, it just makes your heart crack at its edges a tad more. “for me.”
“if, if, i agree, we have to go to that restaraunt on bleecker i’ve been meaning to go to,” your lips are pressed together tightly. you know there’s no wiggling out of this one, no sun in between those looming dark clouds. kaia is used to getting what she wants, and it’s no different when it comes to her best friend. “and, you’re paying.”
she groans, “really?” she says it as if she has no abundance of money.
“isn’t austin gonna pay anyway?”
yes, he is. that’s just who he is. he knows how to act like a gentleman under the public lenses, that’s for sure.
“fair, fair,” she sips daintily from her straw, eyes darting around the crowded street as she weaves through people effortlessly. “you better not pregame this dinner.”
there she goes again, with another statement that proves her loyalty to you, and how intricate her knowledge of you goes.
“listen, i agreed to go to this dinner,” you shrug, “i did not say anything about how i got through it.”
a part of it really is true. there will need to be a bit of alcohol consumed if you have to sit through a full four-course dinner with kaia and austin. there will be talk about his job, yours, hers, all while you’ll feel as though a sink hole will appear any second to swallow you up whole. yeah, you’ll need a drink or two.
that evening, you get ready like you always do. you put on a fresh outfit, adorn yourself with gold jewelry, and act as if everything is all fine and dandy in the world. until austin pulls up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and squeezing tightly, that your picturesque view of the world fades away. “why did you agree to this again?”
you sigh, “i can’t say no to her.”
“you could’ve said you were busy,” he unwraps himself from you, fixing himself beside your body in the mirror.
“we do everything together..”
“everything?”
he says it with a sarcastic tone laced in. it’s hysterical, and you would laugh under any other circumstances, but these don’t allow for so much as a chuckle. “maybe not everything.”
“is there any other reason to why you agreed to this?” he questions, moving away from you and sprawling out onto your bed, all too comfortable.
“no, she just said she wanted us to be closer —“
he snorts.
“—and that she really likes you.”
there’s a tension that falls over the room, both of you silent. there is not a word left in the world to say. austin’s snide expression falters a little, enough to give you hope that he might rethink his relationship status. but you know better than to go down that road again.
“damn,” is all that exits his mouth.
“yeah.”
he’s mute for another second before he sits up on his elbows, glancing over at you. “can i ask you a question?”
your heart skips a beat for a moment, and you stop applying your lipstick to look over at him, “yeah?”
for only a millisecond, one pocket of time, you find yourself hoping and praying that he might ask you if it’s worth it to allow yourselves to be together. but alas, it’s just another dream that lives rent free in the nook of your mind. he says, “are you sure you’re not doing this to prove something to yourself?”
the question smacks you across the face and leaves red slashes on your cheek. you feel as though you’d been deprived of water for weeks. your mouth slightly parts, sputtering to find the words to respond. yet, you know; deep down, you’re aware that there is a fraction of you that is desperate for kaia to find out, to end the ache and suffering that comes along with falling in love with someone who can never be yours. it’s a ridiculous kind of infatuation, the one where you’re not the good guy, but the villain in someone else’s story.
“no,” you try to say firmly. “she’s my best friend, aus.”
“if you’re her best friend, you wouldn’t be sleeping with me.”
he says it so sure of himself, like you’re the only one who was in the wrong, like you messed up a perfectly healthy relationship, like you wrecked a home that was never yours to begin with. “well, you’re her boyfriend, so what does that say about you?”
he chuckles sadistically, “don’t worry about me, [y/n]. i don’t give a fuck about how this ends.”
you think that you might spare yourself his harsh words, but he keeps spewing fire at you. “it’s like this. i’m up for an oscar, and kaia makes me look good. i’m gonna keep dating her until the show, maybe drag it out for a month after. when that’s over, i’ll be free to do whatever i want. now, what happens between you and me… that’s up to you.”
“how is that up to me?”
“depends,” he sits up, legs hanging over the edge of your bed. “depends on if you’re ready to lose kaia forever.”
if you were sane, bolts and screws tightened in your brain, you would be appalled by the suggestion of losing your best friend to a man. but, in that bedroom, him so close to you you could almost taste him, your judgement is impaired and your morality is down the toilet. you’re not ready to lose kaia. but you’re sure as hell not ready to lose him. “i don’t, i’m not —“
“cat’s got your tongue?” he jokes.
“no. just not in the mood to go down this road when we have dinner with your girlfriend in an hour.”
“how about…” he trails off, standing up on his legs and striding over to you, “…we stop talking about this, and do something else?”
his large hands snake around your hips, pulling you closer into his warmth. he brushes your hair behind your ear, dragging his lips down your lobe to your neck. you melt into him, your thoughts escaping you and blissfully falling into the ignorance you know so well. he drags his lips up to your jawline, peppering kisses before planting a chaste one on your parted lips. he’s not going to give you what you want — he doesn’t believe in dessert before the meal — but a tease for later will get him through the evening.
“i actually brought you something,” he speaks against your lips. your eyebrows furrow in confusion as he removes himself from you, rummaging in his pants pocket to retrieve something; a piece of cloth? “something for you to wear.”
you narrow your eyes into slits, trying to focus on the piece of fabric he holds in his hands. soon, your eyes widen when you realize it is not what you thought it was: vibrating panties, with the little toy sewn in and all. you had discussed playing with it before, but on a night like tonight? you weren’t exactly jumping at the opportunity. “aus…” you begin, but he shuts you up with one stern look.
“i didn’t bring it to ask if you were okay with it.”
his tone is laced with dominance. he’s well aware what he’s asking of you: he’s asking you to hold yourself together while you crumble piece by piece, in front of a packed restaurant. even with the fear and adrenaline of getting caught, you both know it was no use denying that you would submit to him no matter if you tried to object or not. “but, but —“
“sugar, you know you’re not gonna get your way.”
it rolls off his tongue like a bad habit; he knows just what to call you to mold you like putty in his hands.
“but i’ve been good,” you say, expression bleak, eyes falling down to your feet. you feel small, as he towers over you with an unspeakable force, as the balance shifts back into his palms.
“i know, baby,” he reaches out to caress your face, his thumb imprinting upon your cheekbone. “but you got us in this mess in the first place, didn’t you?”
you’re used to the vile words that rot you to your core, and you’re used to brainwashing yourself to believe everything he says. it’s no different when he says it now, standing in your bedroom, eyes gleaming with hunger, panties hanging from his index finger like a white flag. so, you nod, bobbing your head up and down like a slinky, shakily taking the panties from his hand. “good girl,” he remarks.
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
an hour later, austin butler finds himself seated next to his girlfriend, across from his other girlfriend — that’s all he could use to describe what you two had — remote control burning a hole in his pocket. his arm is draped loosely over the edge of kaia’s chair, mindlessly tuning in and out of the conversation. he could barely breathe with the knowledge that he controlled your entire body; your pleasures, your desires, your highs and your lows.
you’re shocked by his apprehensiveness towards pressing the green button on the remote. it had been twenty minutes since you three sat down for your meal, and his finger hadn’t lingered near his pocket once. you’re almost certain he’s waiting for a moment where you’re at your most vulnerable, like a predator hiding in the shadows for its prey.
“so, [y/n], have you decided if you’re taking that brand deal with celine?” kaia asks, sipping from her glass of chardonnay, leaning back into her chair. her body languages indicates she would like to be as close as austin as possible, and you can’t help the twinge of burning jealousy that rages through you.
“i’m not sure yet,” you shrug. it wasn’t out of the realm of conversation topics to discuss your jobs. you had met kaia through a modeling gig, a show that you didn’t even want to participate in. she was the only person there who had made you feel seen, like you were more beyond the clothes and jewelry you adorned yourself in. she had made you feel real again, after months of staring at yourself in the mirror wondering if you were just an imposter. “think i’m gonna shelf it now in case i hear back from another brand.”
“really? i would’ve thought you’d go for it,” she says enthusiastically, “you really fit their style.”
“yeah, i guess,” you’re eager to switch the topic to anything but you; you’re too on edge to speak. your eyes flicker over to austin for just a millisecond, and he meets your gaze, allowing himself to escape in you for just that pocket of time. “what about you, kaia? are you gonna walk in new york fashion week?”
“probably!” she sits upright, placing a gentle hand on austin’s thigh. you’re praying she doesn’t notice how your entire body tenses up at the contact; austin, however, notes it. “my mom’s kinda pushing me to do it though.”
“you’ll do great,” you reply encouragingly. “you’re one of the best out there.”
“you really are, baby,” austin leans over to plant a kiss on her cheek, and she giggles at his public display of affection. and just as you think to yourself i fucking hate him, it’s almost as if he can read your mind, and his finger reaches into his pocket, pressing that little green button that turns on the vibrator nestled perfectly on your clitoris.
shit, shit, shit.
it’s a steady stream of stimulation, profanities airborne in your brain as your hand comes into contact with the table, grasping the edge of the wood for stability. kaia doesn’t bat an eyelash. your knuckles are nearly turning white as austin keeps the pace stable, eyes darkening as he watches your unadulterated reaction for any signs of you falling apart.
now it’s your turn to ignore the conversation at hand; kaia and austin fade off into the distance as you press your thighs together, hoping to relieve some of the tension occurring between your core. despite being entangled in conversation with kaia, out of the corner of his eye, he’s inspecting you intently. the second he suspects you might experience a moment of painless pleasure, he lowers the settings within the confines of his pocket. now, it dwindles down to just a measly buzz, pleads bubbling up inside of you. your eyes meet his, bottom lip drawn in between your teeth. he just continues on with kaia.
you sit there numbly, dissolving into pieces as he teeters you over the edge just to reel you back in, like he always does. you’re so absorbed in the sensation against your core that you don’t even hear kaia repeatedly call out your name. somehow, you finally comprehend words, snapping out of your trance. “[y/n?] hello, earth to [y/n],” she jokingly snaps her fingers at you.
“s-sorry,” you manage to stutter out, but to no avail sounding like a child having stage fright. “you know how i am, silly ol’ me, lost in my thoughts.”
you don’t even have to look at austin to know his lips are curled up into a complacent smug.
“right..” she trails off, and if she lets on to your antics, she doesn’t show it, just moves on. “well, i was asking if you’d wanna split the charcuterie board. i know you’re a sucker for brie cheese.”
“uh, yeah, yup, that’s good,” you rush to say before austin decides to torture you again. your fingernails dig into your thighs, leaving marks that you’re sure you’ll have to hide later. his nimble finger reaches into his pocket, upping the speed to a 3, enough to make you squirm in your chair.
your cheeks burn with anticipation, bottom lip red and swollen from chewing on it repeatedly. you’re nearly certain you’ve soaked through your underwear. the room feels as if it’s spinning as you slip down a path you know all too well, mesmerized by the feeling of losing yourself at his mercy.
the noise of your phone buzzing repeatedly against the table jolts you back to reality, back to the conversation kaia and austin are having, back to the way the weight of his gaze falls upon you as his eyes gesture to your cell phone. you shakily pick it up, thighs clenched and all, and read what he managed to text you even with kaia so near.
austin
don’t you dare think about cumming.
your entire being shatters at the text. your fingers don’t come near to the keyboard, eyes just slowly inching up to meet his, a sinister smile plastered on his face as he pretends to scour the menu. your legs shake with longing, to have that release, to let it all go.
to: austin
please, i’m begging
you look back up at him eagerly. instead of responding with a text, he just shakes his head slightly, putting his phone back into his pocket and leaving you out to dry. you’re so drunk on the ecstasy of the vibrations that you don’t notice his wavering hand on kaia’s thigh, the way it lingers for just a few seconds too long.
kaia has looked over at you numerous times, but she thought nothing of it, chalking your silence up to the fact that you just never seemed to like her boyfriends. oh, how you wished that was the case.
“hi! my name’s katie, i’ll be taking your order today! what can i get started for you guys?”
god fucking damnit.
you know what’s coming before he even does it. that’s how well you know his tricks. he glares over at you, finger pushing on the button that brings you up to a 5; the highest setting possible. the waitress is no more than 20 years old, ice blonde and eyes full of light and life, her cheeks a rosy tint, lips bubblegum pink. you ache to be in her shoes, sinless and incorrupt. she pays no mind to the way you’re seated in your chair, fingers wrapped tightly around the stem of your wine glass, chest heaving.
kaia’s voice echoes somewhere, “hi! can we get the charcuterie board? me and her are gonna share it.” you don’t even have the willpower to look in her direction.
the waitress collects her menu, notepad pointed towards austin. his raspy voice utters, “i’m just gonna get the steak. medium rare, please.”
“and, for you?”
you’re mute. silent. absolutely and utterly speechless kaia’s eyebrows furrow, this time, a concerned expression painting itself on her face. “[y/n]?”
sweat beads at your forehead as you swallow thickly, letting out a shaky exhale. “i-i, uh, um.”
you know it’ll be worse if you don’t speak, but somehow you hide behind your words, unable to form a coherent thought with the vibrator pressing into your bundle of nerves, austin’s gaze locked into you. you’re stuck. a mere depiction of what you’ve been since you started sleeping with him two months ago. “can i, um, can i just get, the, oh, the caesar salad?”
there’s a moan tucked into your sentence somewhere, and your brain is screaming, crying, hoping that there’s some form of release coming your way. the inconspicuous waitress asks if you would like any grilled chicken on it. your body is on fire, taking you apart piece by piece, limb by limb, as you stagger on the edge of your orgasm.
you’re aware that when you stop talking, all will know something is wrong. when you attempt to hold your breath, try to anchor yourself by tightly gripping the stem of your wine glass, biting the inside of your cheek roughly enough to draw blood, you’re nothing but his property. “are you okay?” the waitress asks, eyebrows raised.
“she’s fine,” austin reassures. “i think we’re all good here.”
and it’s as if he has a spell on you, his voice powerful enough to send you over that edge. just like that, you’re cumming. you know you’re going to be punished for it at a later date, but none of it matters, anything to calm the storm that was brewing within you. your face turns pale, and your palm meets the tabletop, slamming down on it. kaia is startled by the noise, watching as you squeeze your eyes tight, tight, tight and bury your face in your hands.
stars explode in your vision, different hues flying across your sight as you let your juices splatter onto the chair. austin, however, could care less. he already got what he wanted.
he has you appearing so strung out, and so in agony that your best friend is extending her arm out to comfort you, asking what’s wrong with pleading eyes. but, under the roof of that restaurant, sitting in a chair that was too big to fill you now, your body so tiny and fragile, you’re lulling yourself from the depths of your orgasm, your words from earlier in the week persistently darting in your brain: all yours, all yours, all yours.
wc 6,366
trigger warnings 18+ minors dni ; violence, m*rder, its based off tex’s character idk what u expect, smut at the end, oral (m + f receiving)
note it’s here!! the tex fic!! this put me thru the ringer i’m not even gonna lie and i don’t love it but i didn’t want to keep you guys waiting. i love u all
a very special shout out to @karamelcoveredolicity for the beautiful gif of my baby tex, pls go check out their gifsets they’re phenomenal !!
Thank you a billion times for all the love and support! I will be back to writing in the next couple weeks! College started for me yesterday! I’m going to be a tad bit busy and then I’ll be ready to get back into the groove! I love you all! ❤️
a/n: hiii my sweet loves! i appreciate all the love and support! only one more part!! i’m working on requests! please be understanding with me, i move to college tomorrow! this week i will seem very transparent but i really hope to post as much as i can! i really cannot express the amount of thankfulness i have for ALL of you!
warnings: SMUT!! minors please please please DNI. swearing, pet death, fire. this one is kinda angsty.
w/c: 3.7k
Part IV.
You ran a stick of brownish lipstick across both of your lips. Rubbing them together, you pick up a brush and relax your curls that you’d done earlier but let them sit so they’d stick a bit more. Granted, you had no hope in them but you’d look cute for at least an hour. You wore a cute pair of bell bottoms and a striped tube top. Papa cleaned your nasty boots for you but you didn’t exactly tell him why you’d asked him to. Unplugging the curler and cleaning up your vanity, you give one last look before going downstairs.
Austin waits on the couch in the living room and whistles when you finally stand in front of him. You smile and he grabs you hand and gives you a little spin before he speaks when his eyes are already saying. “Aren’t you just the prettiest cowgirl?” You grin and hum, “Well I’ve got the most handsome cowboy, so it’s fitting.” You receive a kiss on the cheek from him and he turns you so that the both of you can leave. Mama and Papa were already winding down, which meant you both were free to do virtually anything you wanted. There was a church but they could skip if they played their cards right. But they shouldn't get in much trouble even if caught. You take the passenger’s seat as Austin hops into the driver’s and starts the 68’ Ford F-150, taking off after a few seconds. The sun was coming down and painted a beautiful gold scene on anything it touched. His hand found its way onto your thigh, making you smile as you glance out the window.
It was about a 15 minute drive to Marfa, 5 minutes to the restaurant. That left a bit of time for talking, getting to know one another. You found out he has a sister, Ashley. He was born on August 17th. He hates cookie dough ice cream, and his favorite color is blue. You also found out that he lost his mom a while back too…You were hesitant to admit the same thing, you didn’t want to make him feel like you were downplaying his near identical loss. But you told him about yourself, how you played soccer for 6 years as a kid, took up ballet for a day, cried and didn’t go back, how you used to spend summers with Mama and Papa. You even told him about the one time you couldn’t get out of the tire swing and peed your pants because you were so upset. Then you talked about your dad, how he worked as a dispatcher and was kind of a freelance worker, and you talked about your mom. How she was the sweetest lady on earth and you wished to be like her one day. You didn’t necessarily mention her death but Austin took notice.
Arriving at Planet Marfa, he tells you to wait in your seat before he could run around the front of the truck, to your side and open the door. “Let me get this for you, darlin’.” he says. You scoot out and thank him, granting him a kiss on the cheek. He closed the door and you hook your arm around his and enter the venue. There was live music playing and lights were strung all over the “beer garden”, as Austin could best describe the place. You both took a seat at the only table that seemed empty and awaited a server. The waitress, she said you could call her Trixie, asked what you were having and Austin ordered nachos for the table. After showing her ID’s, you both ordered drinks. A Corona with lime for the blonde boy, and you just got a rum and coke. The nachos and drink came to the table after only about five minutes, you were impressed with the quality of the food. The drinks were good too. You really enjoyed the music, the atmosphere, everything. You two talked and laughed, the date was near perfect.
Back at home, you and Austin find a couple more beers to crack open. He sat at the table while you stayed standing, grabbing a glass of water along with your alcohol. “I’m gonna have to take you dancing, I’m sorry I didn't take you out on the floor.” He apologizes, you shrug. “It’s okay,” you say, taking a sip of your cold water. “I’m not much of a dancer. The best I can do is sway and pray.” He stands and pushes the chair in then starts tapping at his phone.
“Well let's get to swayin’ and prayin’ then.” He clicks his phone off and sits it on the counter. “Rainbow” by Kacey Musgraves begins to play and he leads your arms to wrap around his neck and his own find comfort on your hips. You both begin to sway in sync. He gives you a dorky smile, you roll your eyes then lay your head on his shoulder, his head following to lay on yours. You two let the song play while you slow dance in the dimly lit kitchen. He softly hums along to the tune. One of your hands gently drag your nails wherever they could reach.
Austin holds you like you’d leave the second he let go. His grip on you was never painful but it was so secure. And you felt so at home in his arms. Like you’d been longing for this feeling from another person for as long as you could remember. You’d been in a few relationships but never had such a good connection. It was a new feeling. It made you a bit nervous. Your heart was beating so hard you were sure it’d leave a dent in the blond’s own chest.
Both pairs of boots scuffle across the wooden floors, denim against denim. The ending of the song comes too soon, he spins you and gives you a dip. Finishing, you fall apart from each other. He stands in front of you and places a hand gently on your face and slowly his face gravitates towards yours, a single hand still on your hip. The pitter patter of rain starts to tap the tin roofing, it gets harder by the second. But you swore you could only hear Austin’s breathing. He must’ve been nervous too. That’s probably why he didn’t take you out on the dance floor.
His lips were inches away before you both heard creaky footsteps finding their way to the kitchen and you both pulled away before anyone could see anything. “What in tarnation are you two doing? Go get in bed.” Mama asks, her hair back in a ponytail and her muumuu wrinkled.
You both chimed “Yes, Ma’am.”
Something told you to go stay with Austin that night. You didn’t want sex, but you wanted to be next to him. You weren’t ready to have tonight end just yet.
You turn your light off and your feet take you to Austin’s room as quietly as you could. He was already in bed, lights off and everything. So you just climb into bed with him. You throw the covers on and fit into his arms. He wakes up for a second but doesn’t fret. “What's going on, pretty girl?” He asks. “Nothing, just felt like having a sleepover.” He nods, “I’d like that.” And he pulls you in and sleep finds you.
You wake up to Papa shouting. You shoot up from your spot in the bed and Austin hazily asks what you were doing. And then Mama’s shouting for the both of you. That rids Austin of any tiredness he had a split second before. You and Austin jump out of bed and race downstairs and slip your boots on. The scent of burning hay, wood, and whatever else fills your nostrils. You fly out of the door to see the chicken coop, pig pen, and part of the stables engulfed in angry orange flames. Your heart stopped beating for damn near the whole 10 seconds that you stood on the porch in shock.
Austin brings your back from your paralyzed state and hurries off the porch, out to the pen and stables, you follow him. Papa and Mama are already letting the horses out. Austin opens the coop and rushes Hank to heard the chickens out. Though old and tired, Chuck is already at work with the hogs. You grab the garden hose and start to spray the fire as much as possible. Austin takes the chicken’s water bucket and pours it on the hay that was set ablaze, taking most of it out then stomping on the rest.
Papa hollers at Mama to get water from the inside and throw it on the pigpen hay. The stables grew even more burnt by the second even though you were spraying it with water. Nothing seemed to be going out. Austin runs to shut the gate even though the cattle guard did a lot of the work on its own.
Papa takes the hose and gets closer to the fire and starts to lessen the burning. “Go help Mama.” He demands, you take off into the house and begin to fill a bucket with water that sits next to the counter that’s usually for eggs. After it is filled, you struggle to take it out and throw it on the fire.
Chuck was a good dog. He always listened. But when you hear Austin screaming at the dogs to get back from the flames, it stumps, and honestly broke your heart, when Chuck didn’t listen. He ran straight into the pigpens which meant there was probably still livestock. And you hated that Chuck was such a good dog. He knew his job was to clear out all the animals. And he was doing his job.
“Chuck!” You screamed, dropping the bucket. You ran as fast as your legs could go. “Chucky! Get out of there!” Your voice wailed, tears starting to stream down your face. “Y/N!” You suddenly feel strong arms holding onto you, picking you up and then dropping you to your knees. Of course it was Austin, he couldn’t stand seeing you get hurt. So he did as any good cowboy would do, he told his cowgirl to stay back while he went to find your dog. All the while, Hank barks and pleads for someone to save his best friend.
Within minutes, Austin walks back out, Chuck’s lifeless body in his arms.
“No!” Your scream was bloodcurdling. You rush to Austin and the cow dog. He places him on the ground and Chuck just flops to the ground. “Mama! Papa! Help!”
Mama quickly came over and felt for a pulse, breath, anything. Nothing was working. Her watery eyes look at yours and she shakes her head. You break down, laying on the sweet, loyal dog. “Goddamnit.” You cry, tears falling from your eyes. You couldn’t do anything but cry over your dog.
“Deanna! I need help!” Your papa shouts, and you look up to see Hank whining over your and Chuck’s body. Austin and Mama run to him and start to help.
Then, you felt a droplet on your head. And another. Another. It starts raining. You look over at the fire, the hard rain makes it shrink at an incredible pace. Until it’s out and Papa drops the hose. And Mama starts shouting praises to God. But you were almost positive Chuck was the one who made it rain. The three came back to you, everyone was crying. Papa laid a hand on your shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Poppy. He was a good dog.” You breathlessly sob over his body until Austin pulls you off of him, you shake your head begging that he left you with the dog. That you wanted to wait and make sure he was going to wake up. “C’mon, Y/N. Let’s go back inside.” Unwillingly, you went back inside and took a tearful shower and went back to bed, curling into a ball, crying yourself to bed.
You all had a short and sweet service for Chucky that rainy morning before church. He was buried underneath the tree that he would chase you around as a child. The tire swing that once hung wasn’t there anymore. Instead, a small wooden cross staked into the ground. It had a small epitaph written on it with a chunky sharpie.
Good Boy, Chuck. 2008-2022.
You didn’t bother doing makeup that morning. Austin held onto the whole day. You couldn’t get through the service without crying. Mama was crying the whole time too. You had gone out to the car half way through. The sermon was about how there was a place for all of us after we die. And although you weren’t sure about your religion, you hoped Chuck went to that beautiful place they promised there was.
You knew things at home wouldn’t continue the same. There was a lot of rebuilding to be done and though it wouldn’t take much for the stables to be boarded up and painted. And the pens for the pigs and the chickens wasn’t a big deal. Everything just felt so heavy.
You were washing up the plates from lunch when you feel a pair of strong arms come around your waist and a head rest on your shoulder. “Are you okay?” You nod because that felt easier. It felt a lot easier than explaining how your childhood was wiping out a lot quicker than you had liked it. You were being forced to grow up without a reminder of what a lovely childhood you’d lived.
“Are you sure?”
“No. But I can’t keep crying. I’m so tired of being sad.” Your lip wobbles.
“Then let’s do everything we can to make sure you’re not sad anymore. Let’s be happy, okay? The sun isn’t out but it’s raining. And rain helps the crops and there are puddles we can jump around in.”
You laid down the dishes and wrapped your soapy hands around Austin.
“I’m really lucky to have you. Please don’t leave me?” He says and it didn’t feel out of place. Just…unexpected.
“I never will.”
Finally, it’s the evening. The rain had seemed to stop and it became warmer. You and Austin take Elvis and Jagger down to the pond to let them frolic while you two sit and talk about whatever was on your mind. You laid back on the plaid quilt while Austin skipped rocks across the lake. The setting sun smooches your skin with its golden glow as much as it could through the wandering clouds. You wore a little sundress you’d been hoarding for months, Austin said the color was a good one on you. You listened to anything this boy said. It amazed you. The way you were so infatuated with this soul. The wind whistles as it passes by you to say hello. Against the gusts, Austin’s music played off his phone. Just a bunch of country oldies, Chris Stapleton, George Strait, Johnny Cash. All that jazz, it was his favorite. And quite honestly, it was becoming yours too. Your eyes fall shut under the impression you’d take a nap while Austin did whatever it was he brought you both out here to do.
“Y/N.” The boy plops down next to you. You roll on your side, propping your head up with your hand, the boy mirroring you. “Hi, lover.” You smile, cupping his face with your free hand. “We need to head back soon.” You remind him of the time. 7:42, your phone displayed last time you checked. “We don't have to go back just right away, right?” He asks, giving your wrist a gentle peck. You take that hand and tuck a piece of hair behind your ear that was blown into your face.
He leans in to give you a kiss that lasts at least 25 seconds. He pulls you in, you now laid on your back. Your heart was racing after he kissed you again, this time with tongue and you knew he wanted more. You did too.
His lips attach to your neck, sucking soft pretty pink marks that were almost invisible into your tender skin. His free hand finds the hem of your pulling it up just enough to reveal your panties and he plays with the band, wanting to break through. You prop your legs to give him more room. His lips litter chaste kisses across your chin. His fingers migrate towards your heat and back up to your belly that rose and fell with your shaky breaths.
Austin lets a deep breath out and his hand finally breaks the barrier between you and him. He looks at you for confirmation. You nod. Two fingers divide your folds and they rub tiny gentle circles into your clit. A huff exits your body, your eyes closing. Austin’s lips gently suck at your neck again, the pace picking up, pressure starts to build in the pit of your stomach. You let out a whimper that could only be described as desperate. Desperate for more than this.
His fingers dance along your clit while you writhe, your voice calling out his name every other second. Austin speeds his pace, making you lose control of your legs. They shake while the wind plays with your dress. You prop back up when you feel the sensation becoming too much to handle. You gasp and moan until your climax runs through your whole body. A sound that Austin would later call “the most heavenly thing” left your lips as you trapped his hand between your legs. You grab his wrist, pulling it away. He smiles at you in your hazy state.
You eventually grinned back, the quiet thunder woke you from your open eyed rest. You reach over and push him to his back and settle between his legs. Stretch and begin to pluck the buttons of his shirt until his chest is on full display. You both giggle at the deed that was being done, unbuckling his belt. With his help, you pull his jeans and boxers to release his painfully hard dick. You take it in your hand and lick the length of his cock, taking the tip in your mouth once you reach the top and swirl your tongue around it for a few seconds. Taking the rest into your mouth, you place your hands on his thighs, gripping them. He lets out a filthy moan, a hand grasping the picnic blanket.
“Fuck, Y/N. Feels so good, baby.”
You suck hard and bob quickly, trying your best to get a good reaction out of him. You knew he was feeling good from the way his hips would buck to help the tip of his penis meet the back of your throat. He was close, very close. He grabbed your hair as you let off with a wet pop. Austin’s face contorts into a confused look. You stand as he sits up. You slip off your panties from under your dress and toss them.
You straddle Austin and slowly, you lower yourself onto his cock. You let out a sweet, soft moan over Patsy Cline sorrowfully singing about how she’s crazy over someone. Austin enveloped your waist with his arms, prompting you to move. You do the same to his neck, pressing the side of his face into your chest. Thunder cracks, but you two don’t care a bit. Your breath is heavy again as you roll your hips against his. He would push his pelvis into yours as much as he could without support behind him.
You both kept the pace slow, it was enough to get both of you off but that didn’t even seem like the point of the current moment. Just being intimate and so close felt like the only thing that mattered right then and there.
Soon enough the rate picked up. You couldn’t help but throw your head back in pleasure, whimpers falling from your lips again.
“I’m close, baby.” Austin hums into your shoulder. “Me too,” You said, panting.
“Austin! Y/N!”
You both froze.
“Dinner’s almost ready! Come inside before it starts to rain again! Bring the horses in too!” Mama’s voice rang out all the way from the house.
“Okay, coming!” Well, not now, you weren’t.
You both got up and made yourselves presentable, but you had one minor problem, you couldn't find your underwear. You searched around but gave up after 2 minutes, not wanting Mama to worry about you two anymore.
After calling the horses back to you, walking them back to the stable and taking care of all of that, you walk straight up to your room to change. Austin just sits on the couch with Papa and discusses rebuild details.
“I’m glad you and Austin get along now.” Mama says, chopping the potatoes up while you make gravy. You laugh, little did she know. “Yeah, he’s a good guy.”
“Papa! Can you come in here for a second?” She hollers from the kitchen into the living room. Shouting was her specialty. “Yes, ma’am?” Papa says, leaning against the counter. “Why don’t you tell Poppy the good news?” Papa smiles and crossed him arms.
“We’re buying you a place in Denver.” He starts, your breathing stops. “In the same place as your daddy. And we’re giving you money for a few month's rent and some groceries. I have a friend up there who just started a feed business and I told him about you and he said he’d love to give you a job in the office or hands on.”
You were caught off gaurd to say the least. “That’s great! Uh- I- Thank you!”
“Well, we’re just super proud of the work you’ve been putting in and we wanted to set you up and make sure you knew how much we appreciated all you’ve done.”
“Does Austin know?”
“He doesn’t yet but we don’t think he’ll mind being the only farmhand again.”
“Can I tell him?”
“Well, sure, kiddo.”
You nod and go on with cooking. You’re leaving. After such a short time with Austin. How was the timing always so bad?
a/n: hiii my sweet loves! i appreciate all the love and support! only one more part!! i’m working on requests! please be understanding with me, i move to college tomorrow! this week i will seem very transparent but i really hope to post as much as i can! i really cannot express the amount of thankfulness i have for ALL of you!
warnings: SMUT!! minors please please please DNI. swearing, pet death, fire. this one is kinda angsty.
w/c: 3.7k
part three 🌾
Part IV.
You ran a stick of brownish lipstick across both of your lips. Rubbing them together, you pick up a brush and relax your curls that you’d done earlier but let them sit so they’d stick a bit more. Granted, you had no hope in them but you’d look cute for at least an hour. You wore a cute pair of bell bottoms and a striped tube top. Papa cleaned your nasty boots for you but you didn’t exactly tell him why you’d asked him to. Unplugging the curler and cleaning up your vanity, you give one last look before going downstairs.
Austin waits on the couch in the living room and whistles when you finally stand in front of him. You smile and he grabs you hand and gives you a little spin before he speaks when his eyes are already saying. “Aren’t you just the prettiest cowgirl?” You grin and hum, “Well I’ve got the most handsome cowboy, so it’s fitting.” You receive a kiss on the cheek from him and he turns you so that the both of you can leave. Mama and Papa were already winding down, which meant you both were free to do virtually anything you wanted. There was a church but they could skip if they played their cards right. But they shouldn't get in much trouble even if caught. You take the passenger’s seat as Austin hops into the driver’s and starts the 68’ Ford F-150, taking off after a few seconds. The sun was coming down and painted a beautiful gold scene on anything it touched. His hand found its way onto your thigh, making you smile as you glance out the window.
It was about a 15 minute drive to Marfa, 5 minutes to the restaurant. That left a bit of time for talking, getting to know one another. You found out he has a sister, Ashley. He was born on August 17th. He hates cookie dough ice cream, and his favorite color is blue. You also found out that he lost his mom a while back too…You were hesitant to admit the same thing, you didn’t want to make him feel like you were downplaying his near identical loss. But you told him about yourself, how you played soccer for 6 years as a kid, took up ballet for a day, cried and didn’t go back, how you used to spend summers with Mama and Papa. You even told him about the one time you couldn’t get out of the tire swing and peed your pants because you were so upset. Then you talked about your dad, how he worked as a dispatcher and was kind of a freelance worker, and you talked about your mom. How she was the sweetest lady on earth and you wished to be like her one day. You didn’t necessarily mention her death but Austin took notice.
Arriving at Planet Marfa, he tells you to wait in your seat before he could run around the front of the truck, to your side and open the door. “Let me get this for you, darlin’.” he says. You scoot out and thank him, granting him a kiss on the cheek. He closed the door and you hook your arm around his and enter the venue. There was live music playing and lights were strung all over the “beer garden”, as Austin could best describe the place. You both took a seat at the only table that seemed empty and awaited a server. The waitress, she said you could call her Trixie, asked what you were having and Austin ordered nachos for the table. After showing her ID’s, you both ordered drinks. A Corona with lime for the blonde boy, and you just got a rum and coke. The nachos and drink came to the table after only about five minutes, you were impressed with the quality of the food. The drinks were good too. You really enjoyed the music, the atmosphere, everything. You two talked and laughed, the date was near perfect.
Back at home, you and Austin find a couple more beers to crack open. He sat at the table while you stayed standing, grabbing a glass of water along with your alcohol. “I’m gonna have to take you dancing, I’m sorry I didn't take you out on the floor.” He apologizes, you shrug. “It’s okay,” you say, taking a sip of your cold water. “I’m not much of a dancer. The best I can do is sway and pray.” He stands and pushes the chair in then starts tapping at his phone.
“Well let's get to swayin’ and prayin’ then.” He clicks his phone off and sits it on the counter. “Rainbow” by Kacey Musgraves begins to play and he leads your arms to wrap around his neck and his own find comfort on your hips. You both begin to sway in sync. He gives you a dorky smile, you roll your eyes then lay your head on his shoulder, his head following to lay on yours. You two let the song play while you slow dance in the dimly lit kitchen. He softly hums along to the tune. One of your hands gently drag your nails wherever they could reach.
Austin holds you like you’d leave the second he let go. His grip on you was never painful but it was so secure. And you felt so at home in his arms. Like you’d been longing for this feeling from another person for as long as you could remember. You’d been in a few relationships but never had such a good connection. It was a new feeling. It made you a bit nervous. Your heart was beating so hard you were sure it’d leave a dent in the blond’s own chest.
Both pairs of boots scuffle across the wooden floors, denim against denim. The ending of the song comes too soon, he spins you and gives you a dip. Finishing, you fall apart from each other. He stands in front of you and places a hand gently on your face and slowly his face gravitates towards yours, a single hand still on your hip. The pitter patter of rain starts to tap the tin roofing, it gets harder by the second. But you swore you could only hear Austin’s breathing. He must’ve been nervous too. That’s probably why he didn’t take you out on the dance floor.
His lips were inches away before you both heard creaky footsteps finding their way to the kitchen and you both pulled away before anyone could see anything. “What in tarnation are you two doing? Go get in bed.” Mama asks, her hair back in a ponytail and her muumuu wrinkled.
You both chimed “Yes, Ma’am.”
Something told you to go stay with Austin that night. You didn’t want sex, but you wanted to be next to him. You weren’t ready to have tonight end just yet.
You turn your light off and your feet take you to Austin’s room as quietly as you could. He was already in bed, lights off and everything. So you just climb into bed with him. You throw the covers on and fit into his arms. He wakes up for a second but doesn’t fret. “What's going on, pretty girl?” He asks. “Nothing, just felt like having a sleepover.” He nods, “I’d like that.” And he pulls you in and sleep finds you.
You wake up to Papa shouting. You shoot up from your spot in the bed and Austin hazily asks what you were doing. And then Mama’s shouting for the both of you. That rids Austin of any tiredness he had a split second before. You and Austin jump out of bed and race downstairs and slip your boots on. The scent of burning hay, wood, and whatever else fills your nostrils. You fly out of the door to see the chicken coop, pig pen, and part of the stables engulfed in angry orange flames. Your heart stopped beating for damn near the whole 10 seconds that you stood on the porch in shock.
Austin brings your back from your paralyzed state and hurries off the porch, out to the pen and stables, you follow him. Papa and Mama are already letting the horses out. Austin opens the coop and rushes Hank to heard the chickens out. Though old and tired, Chuck is already at work with the hogs. You grab the garden hose and start to spray the fire as much as possible. Austin takes the chicken’s water bucket and pours it on the hay that was set ablaze, taking most of it out then stomping on the rest.
Papa hollers at Mama to get water from the inside and throw it on the pigpen hay. The stables grew even more burnt by the second even though you were spraying it with water. Nothing seemed to be going out. Austin runs to shut the gate even though the cattle guard did a lot of the work on its own.
Papa takes the hose and gets closer to the fire and starts to lessen the burning. “Go help Mama.” He demands, you take off into the house and begin to fill a bucket with water that sits next to the counter that’s usually for eggs. After it is filled, you struggle to take it out and throw it on the fire.
Chuck was a good dog. He always listened. But when you hear Austin screaming at the dogs to get back from the flames, it stumps, and honestly broke your heart, when Chuck didn’t listen. He ran straight into the pigpens which meant there was probably still livestock. And you hated that Chuck was such a good dog. He knew his job was to clear out all the animals. And he was doing his job.
“Chuck!” You screamed, dropping the bucket. You ran as fast as your legs could go. “Chucky! Get out of there!” Your voice wailed, tears starting to stream down your face. “Y/N!” You suddenly feel strong arms holding onto you, picking you up and then dropping you to your knees. Of course it was Austin, he couldn’t stand seeing you get hurt. So he did as any good cowboy would do, he told his cowgirl to stay back while he went to find your dog. All the while, Hank barks and pleads for someone to save his best friend.
Within minutes, Austin walks back out, Chuck’s lifeless body in his arms.
“No!” Your scream was bloodcurdling. You rush to Austin and the cow dog. He places him on the ground and Chuck just flops to the ground. “Mama! Papa! Help!”
Mama quickly came over and felt for a pulse, breath, anything. Nothing was working. Her watery eyes look at yours and she shakes her head. You break down, laying on the sweet, loyal dog. “Goddamnit.” You cry, tears falling from your eyes. You couldn’t do anything but cry over your dog.
“Deanna! I need help!” Your papa shouts, and you look up to see Hank whining over your and Chuck’s body. Austin and Mama run to him and start to help.
Then, you felt a droplet on your head. And another. Another. It starts raining. You look over at the fire, the hard rain makes it shrink at an incredible pace. Until it’s out and Papa drops the hose. And Mama starts shouting praises to God. But you were almost positive Chuck was the one who made it rain. The three came back to you, everyone was crying. Papa laid a hand on your shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Poppy. He was a good dog.” You breathlessly sob over his body until Austin pulls you off of him, you shake your head begging that he left you with the dog. That you wanted to wait and make sure he was going to wake up. “C’mon, Y/N. Let’s go back inside.” Unwillingly, you went back inside and took a tearful shower and went back to bed, curling into a ball, crying yourself to bed.
You all had a short and sweet service for Chucky that rainy morning before church. He was buried underneath the tree that he would chase you around as a child. The tire swing that once hung wasn’t there anymore. Instead, a small wooden cross staked into the ground. It had a small epitaph written on it with a chunky sharpie.
Good Boy, Chuck. 2008-2022.
You didn’t bother doing makeup that morning. Austin held onto the whole day. You couldn’t get through the service without crying. Mama was crying the whole time too. You had gone out to the car half way through. The sermon was about how there was a place for all of us after we die. And although you weren’t sure about your religion, you hoped Chuck went to that beautiful place they promised there was.
You knew things at home wouldn’t continue the same. There was a lot of rebuilding to be done and though it wouldn’t take much for the stables to be boarded up and painted. And the pens for the pigs and the chickens wasn’t a big deal. Everything just felt so heavy.
You were washing up the plates from lunch when you feel a pair of strong arms come around your waist and a head rest on your shoulder. “Are you okay?” You nod because that felt easier. It felt a lot easier than explaining how your childhood was wiping out a lot quicker than you had liked it. You were being forced to grow up without a reminder of what a lovely childhood you’d lived.
“Are you sure?”
“No. But I can’t keep crying. I’m so tired of being sad.” Your lip wobbles.
“Then let’s do everything we can to make sure you’re not sad anymore. Let’s be happy, okay? The sun isn’t out but it’s raining. And rain helps the crops and there are puddles we can jump around in.”
You laid down the dishes and wrapped your soapy hands around Austin.
“I’m really lucky to have you. Please don’t leave me?” He says and it didn’t feel out of place. Just…unexpected.
“I never will.”
Finally, it’s the evening. The rain had seemed to stop and it became warmer. You and Austin take Elvis and Jagger down to the pond to let them frolic while you two sit and talk about whatever was on your mind. You laid back on the plaid quilt while Austin skipped rocks across the lake. The setting sun smooches your skin with its golden glow as much as it could through the wandering clouds. You wore a little sundress you’d been hoarding for months, Austin said the color was a good one on you. You listened to anything this boy said. It amazed you. The way you were so infatuated with this soul. The wind whistles as it passes by you to say hello. Against the gusts, Austin’s music played off his phone. Just a bunch of country oldies, Chris Stapleton, George Strait, Johnny Cash. All that jazz, it was his favorite. And quite honestly, it was becoming yours too. Your eyes fall shut under the impression you’d take a nap while Austin did whatever it was he brought you both out here to do.
“Y/N.” The boy plops down next to you. You roll on your side, propping your head up with your hand, the boy mirroring you. “Hi, lover.” You smile, cupping his face with your free hand. “We need to head back soon.” You remind him of the time. 7:42, your phone displayed last time you checked. “We don't have to go back just right away, right?” He asks, giving your wrist a gentle peck. You take that hand and tuck a piece of hair behind your ear that was blown into your face.
He leans in to give you a kiss that lasts at least 25 seconds. He pulls you in, you now laid on your back. Your heart was racing after he kissed you again, this time with tongue and you knew he wanted more. You did too.
His lips attach to your neck, sucking soft pretty pink marks that were almost invisible into your tender skin. His free hand finds the hem of your pulling it up just enough to reveal your panties and he plays with the band, wanting to break through. You prop your legs to give him more room. His lips litter chaste kisses across your chin. His fingers migrate towards your heat and back up to your belly that rose and fell with your shaky breaths.
Austin lets a deep breath out and his hand finally breaks the barrier between you and him. He looks at you for confirmation. You nod. Two fingers divide your folds and they rub tiny gentle circles into your clit. A huff exits your body, your eyes closing. Austin’s lips gently suck at your neck again, the pace picking up, pressure starts to build in the pit of your stomach. You let out a whimper that could only be described as desperate. Desperate for more than this.
His fingers dance along your clit while you writhe, your voice calling out his name every other second. Austin speeds his pace, making you lose control of your legs. They shake while the wind plays with your dress. You prop back up when you feel the sensation becoming too much to handle. You gasp and moan until your climax runs through your whole body. A sound that Austin would later call “the most heavenly thing” left your lips as you trapped his hand between your legs. You grab his wrist, pulling it away. He smiles at you in your hazy state.
You eventually grinned back, the quiet thunder woke you from your open eyed rest. You reach over and push him to his back and settle between his legs. Stretch and begin to pluck the buttons of his shirt until his chest is on full display. You both giggle at the deed that was being done, unbuckling his belt. With his help, you pull his jeans and boxers to release his painfully hard dick. You take it in your hand and lick the length of his cock, taking the tip in your mouth once you reach the top and swirl your tongue around it for a few seconds. Taking the rest into your mouth, you place your hands on his thighs, gripping them. He lets out a filthy moan, a hand grasping the picnic blanket.
“Fuck, Y/N. Feels so good, baby.”
You suck hard and bob quickly, trying your best to get a good reaction out of him. You knew he was feeling good from the way his hips would buck to help the tip of his penis meet the back of your throat. He was close, very close. He grabbed your hair as you let off with a wet pop. Austin’s face contorts into a confused look. You stand as he sits up. You slip off your panties from under your dress and toss them.
You straddle Austin and slowly, you lower yourself onto his cock. You let out a sweet, soft moan over Patsy Cline sorrowfully singing about how she’s crazy over someone. Austin enveloped your waist with his arms, prompting you to move. You do the same to his neck, pressing the side of his face into your chest. Thunder cracks, but you two don’t care a bit. Your breath is heavy again as you roll your hips against his. He would push his pelvis into yours as much as he could without support behind him.
You both kept the pace slow, it was enough to get both of you off but that didn’t even seem like the point of the current moment. Just being intimate and so close felt like the only thing that mattered right then and there.
Soon enough the rate picked up. You couldn’t help but throw your head back in pleasure, whimpers falling from your lips again.
“I’m close, baby.” Austin hums into your shoulder. “Me too,” You said, panting.
“Austin! Y/N!”
You both froze.
“Dinner’s almost ready! Come inside before it starts to rain again! Bring the horses in too!” Mama’s voice rang out all the way from the house.
“Okay, coming!” Well, not now, you weren’t.
You both got up and made yourselves presentable, but you had one minor problem, you couldn't find your underwear. You searched around but gave up after 2 minutes, not wanting Mama to worry about you two anymore.
After calling the horses back to you, walking them back to the stable and taking care of all of that, you walk straight up to your room to change. Austin just sits on the couch with Papa and discusses rebuild details.
“I’m glad you and Austin get along now.” Mama says, chopping the potatoes up while you make gravy. You laugh, little did she know. “Yeah, he’s a good guy.”
“Papa! Can you come in here for a second?” She hollers from the kitchen into the living room. Shouting was her specialty. “Yes, ma’am?” Papa says, leaning against the counter. “Why don’t you tell Poppy the good news?” Papa smiles and crossed him arms.
“We’re buying you a place in Denver.” He starts, your breathing stops. “In the same place as your daddy. And we’re giving you money for a few month's rent and some groceries. I have a friend up there who just started a feed business and I told him about you and he said he’d love to give you a job in the office or hands on.”
You were caught off gaurd to say the least. “That’s great! Uh- I- Thank you!”
“Well, we’re just super proud of the work you’ve been putting in and we wanted to set you up and make sure you knew how much we appreciated all you’ve done.”
“Does Austin know?”
“He doesn’t yet but we don’t think he’ll mind being the only farmhand again.”
“Can I tell him?”
“Well, sure, kiddo.”
You nod and go on with cooking. You’re leaving. After such a short time with Austin. How was the timing always so bad?
for a good 2 years of my life i would eat, sleep, and breath 80s. i genuinely believe it’s what kept me from an untimely demise. and just to think abt austin being best buds w rob lowe, michael jackson, patrick swayze, micheal j fox, etc. i would coMBUST. YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND. but like just imagine
the movies, the music, the clothes, do you know what austin in this
