// Thinking about a new muse but hmm...

Thinking about Rooney.

Again—.

If Tenn wasn't so goddamn good at what he did, then he wouldn't HAVE this problem!

He tries, but he's too busy moaning out Tenn's name—.

Lip bites.

And walls, and floors . . .

. . .

OK, MAYBE he is a little obsessed with the cowboy—.

Heart for a nsfw gif of our characters - retweet to include a caption.

Yeeeeeehaw - ! (That's cowboy for 'I'll be selective with these' ! )

> offensive when given the chance.

"Y-Yessir!"

Well, at least he's got the whole "obeying commands" part of his brain functioning. Abnormally quick to press those lips against dear ol' Tenn's. Guess pleasing the raccoon is just invigorating!

What started out as an innocent enough kiss turned intense, with Tenn going on the >

"And you've got some good . . . hands—? Like you just know how to use them.

. . . sorry, I think my brain is still recovering after short-circuiting so many times."

Damn jock was rocking an hourglass figure. How does that even HAPPEN? It's no wonder Bam's popular around this island—.

> from exhaustion.

. . . eh, fuck it. What's one more?

So many leftover bite marks, enough to make Bam groan from another one.

"Just who are you? I'm still barely able to get up without my arms giving out, yet you're acting like nothing happened . . ."

It was . . . hot. Like REALLY hot. Bam could take more, but that'd likely leave him passed out >

He's STILL shaking after last night, and Tenn calls that bot doing anything?

There's no way he still has any stamina left . . .

Sorry, it's just he REALLY did a number on the buck—.

Too loud . . .

> real healthy dose of the Cooper treatment, eh? Who can blame him, though? Not many can resist that damn charm.

Dangling a carrot right in front of his nose . . .

Bam reveled in his touch, heart aflutter as the gunslinger established who's really in charge.

"And I like a man who can do everything you're doing right now. C-Can we uhm . . . yknow, kiss, maybe?"

D'aww, ol' buck was that desperate to get a >

> is all . . ."

Or whoring himself out willingly. Whatever helps him sleep at night.

"Tenn . . ."

Sharply inhaling in as his rough hand explored every nook and cranny, gliding down his physique with deceptive care. Bam stood at attention like a soldier, arms folded behind his back to leave nothing but his torso on display.

"Maybe I just wanted to show some appreciation of my own >

Bam huffed, shaky fingers gripping the bottom of his shirt only to lift the rest of it off. Whew . . . get a load of all THAT. Not often you get someone built like him ponying up that rear all willy nilly.

"You're free to touch more, but only if you want! Only if you want . . ."

"Just not used to saying that kinda stuff yet, I guess—."

Feeling Tenn's touch brought his heart rate to new heights, conjuring a visible burning in his cheeks. Bam didn't want to speak ill of the 'roo, but god . . . the raccoon was really giving him a run for his money.

"Haha . . . ah . . ."

"I wouldn't discount him that much, trust me. But . . . ok, maybe I do have something for that accent."

His heart does lay with Rooney, but fuck . . . Tenn here really knows how to drive him up a wall.

"Just get over here and make me s-scream—."

Jealous? Hardly.

Jealous of not having that voice in my ear, making my legs shake as you bite against my—

. . .

What was I talking about? I . . . lost my train of thought for a moment.

Care to show me then?

Hearing a loooooot of talking, cowboy, but I'm not seeing me being folded yet. Thought you'd be wayyyyy more quick to pounce, honestly—.

. . . just point me in a direction, cowboy.

It's been a bit since, well, y'know—. Rooney has been out for a tournament for the past couple of months, so there hasn't been a man recently that could really rock me something fierce.

Wanna test that?

Ah . . . I see—.

Shouldn't be TOO difficult. Though, I ain't the best with being a handyman, so don't expect a miracle if the bed frame needs to get assembled or something.

Who is he to deny helping out a neighbor? I've certainly got the bod to do it with.

Just point me in a direction and tell me what's what!

Kinda. Maybe.

. . .

Yes—.

Tenn . . .

// My mouth is open