#five naked cowboys in the shower at RAM RANCH

[twigg96]

Ride Em' Cowboy

Chapter 1: Being Family is a Promise

Pairing: Bull Rider! Daryl X Male! EMT! Reader

Era: Rodeo AU (A Walker Free AU)

Pronouns: He/Him/You

Warnings: Swearing, Merle Dixon, Merle being Merle, Peer Pressure, Bar Scene, Smoking, Blood, light violence, slow burn

Chapter Summery: Daryl is just trying to live his life. But he has obligations that can't be ignored. Obligations to the farm he works on to keep food on the table. Obligations to friends to keep a good repour in the town. Obligations to his last remaining family member to keep him safe from his own self destructive ass.

Cigarette smoke swirled and made the air thick in the little po-dunk bar Merle frequented every single night. Daryl as the younger brother used the excuse that he had to accompany Merle... not just for the free smokes and booze Merle's friends inevitably bestowed upon him seeing him without a beer already firmly in his hand, but... to make sure Merle make it home in one piece alive and well whether he liked it or not. His brother was a bad driver even while sober.

Saddling up to the bar Daryl nursed his fourth beer of the night. Some shitty lager or Lite beer he didn't know the name of that one of Merle's shady biker friends shoved in his hands. "When you ever gonna learn?" The owner of the bar hummed shaking her head. Soft brown eyes conflicted with starlight grey hair. Staring up at the woman through his tipsy haze Daryl clicked his tongue, pulling a pack of Pall Mall Reds out of his breast pocket patting them against the bar's counter top. "Learn wha'?" He slurred, his eyes falling to his hands, flicking open the carton top of his cigarettes. Pulling one out by it's orange filter by his teeth, he wasn't surprised when a clean glass slammed against the counter in front of him. Following pale skin up to her face Daryl stared blankly back at the woman. "Followin' the likes of him around is only gonna drag ya down, pookie." Carol hummed her eyes skating past Daryl's shoulder to a table where Merle was bent over whispering in some pretty little young blonde's ear.

"Dumb sum' bitch..." Daryl huffed, throwing his arm back in his seat. "Bastard jest don't know when ta fuckin' stop." He hissed shoving the carton back in his pocket. Fishing the lighter from another pocket he ignored the forlorn way the owner stared at him. "Maybe... jest remember it ain't always your job ta clean up his messes." She hummed. Turning his glare onto Carol he huffed. "Yeah... and if it ain't then who's fuckin' job is it then?" He growled throwing himself back in his seat.

Taking a long drag from his cigarette he let the smoke linger and burn in his throat and lungs. Turning his glare to the wall full of posters behind Carol, Daryl huffed. Though he could hardly focus long enough on any of them to read the finer print with details and other nesciences, he could read the big bold titles that were meant to catch the eye of any passer by.

Fishing Contest at the Docks!! Bring the kids!!

One said in various fonts and bright bold letters that screamed it was meant for middle aged men and their wives. Daryl huffed rolling his eyes glancing down the bar to his right eyeing a blonde number who was trying almost desperately through her drunken stupor to snap a clear photograph of the poster with her cellphone. He assumed just by looking at her she was a deadbeat single mother. The large fake ass gold hoop earrings. The botched boob job and second hand knockoff designer clothing... Desperate to reconnect with her teenage kids in this last ditch attempt to keep some relevance in their life before they all ran off in their own ways... it was derepressing just to think about.

MISSING DOG: BUSTER WILL PAY REWARD

This poster in particular caught Daryl's attention with the bold capital letters screaming at him. The photo of the dog under the words looked sad, its black eyes wide and tearful, ears back as it looked up at whoever took the picture. Daryl hoped that where ever it ended up the dog ended up safer and happier than it looked there... He also wondered as he lifted his beer to his lips, if Buster was the name of the dog or the man paying the reward for the dog... It wouldn't do much good to go out yelling for the name of your bank when you need a loan would it? So why would he go out screaming some random man's name when he wasn't positive it wasn't the dog's? To top it off, one run over of the poster showed there wasn't a phone number for this person... nor an address... so what? This Buster just wanted to brag that his dog was missing? Or maybe it was a dog family desperately looking for their missing Buster. Now Daryl was really fucking confused...

Finishing his beer in one go to help clear his head he sighed. The damned wall looked like the classified section of the damned newspaper.

Roommate Needed!

Ah yes... strangers in the home were always a fantastic idea. Fucking idiot was going to end up on 60 seconds...

Rodeo This Saturday!

Did Daryl look like a god damned clown? He only tolerated the ranch he worked at for the free food and reduced rent while living on property with Merle. He wasn't about to spend his free time around more animals than he had to.

Greene's Farm Half Price! Tomatoes Carrots Lettuce Peppers - Banana, Jalapeno, Ghost, and Bell Onions Whole Ducks Whole Chickens Eggs - Unsorted! by the dozen + More!

Now that... that Daryl could get behind. The Greene's Farm was a small family owned farm in town. They took care of their own. He appreciated that. Maybe he'd swing down later in the week to restock their fridge. It was looking a little bare.

Glass shattering against the wall Daryl was fixated on pulled him out of his thoughts. Whipping around he had to admit. He wasn't completely surprised to see the heavy set man with a bald head glaring daggers at his older brother. A large arm wrapped tightly around the tiny blonde Merle had just been flirting with. The man's handlebar mustache flared out with every breath he took. Dressed in clothing that was much too expensive for the likes of the hole in the wall bar Daryl cocked his brow wondering what a man like that was ever doing in a town like this in the first place.

"Listen here ya fuckin' no good shit stain." The man growled pointing directly at Merle's chest. "I don't ever wanna see ya near my Lou ever again ya hear! Or I'll paint yer fuckin' brains all over the god damned walls!" He hissed. A reasonable request if anyone asked Daryl. Didn't matter if she were his wife or his daughter... based off the age gap alone he surely hoped it was the latter.

"Now hold on and give me a minute." Merle mused, placing his hands down on the table splaying his fingers wide. A shit eating grin plastering his face. "I didn't even kiss her."

Oh fuck.

The man's face twisted from anger and confusion to rage. "You tryin' ta prove somethin' with that?! I don't give a damn if ya kissed her! Keep yer fuckin' mits off her!" The man screamed turning beat red.

Pushing off his seat Daryl moved to stand behind his brother. Whether it was to pull his ass out of danger or fight alongside him... he wasn't sure yet. But he knew his place and he knew it well.

Merle hummed his grin turning devilish with Daryl by his side. "Well... how about a friendly wager then?" He mused. Fucking asshole.

The man opened his mouth to speak but Merle's hand shot up to interrupt. "My best man against yers... this Saturday."

The fuck did he just say? Eyebrows shooting up way past his hairline Daryl could have cold cocked Merle in the back of the head had the situation been less perilous.

But the man straightened up. Seemingly taking the bet into consideration. At a glance he didn't seem like the type to gamble especially in fights... then again Daryl couldn't exactly judge in other's vices.

"Now hold on I don't even know yer name." The man said skeptically. Good on him.

But the eldest Dixon was cunning. He hadn't gotten out of five separate charges for grand larceny and fraud for nothing. Standing up straight he met the man's eyes. "You mean you ain't never heard of little old me?" He asked. "Name's Merle Dixon." A beat passed where Daryl was positive the man had soused Merle out. He would kick his ass and this charade would end. But instead... he nodded. "Jaxon Porter. You got a team in this weekend's rodeo?" Jaxon asked earnestly.

You've gotta be shi-

Daryl's thoughts were interrupted as Merle nodded reaching behind himself. Patting Daryl's shoulder hard enough to make him stumble forward the younger huffed staring hard and direct to the floor. "Sure do. Matter o' fact. Mah little brotha' is our cowboy in this year's roughstock events. Ain't that right Daryl?" Merle hummed turning a hard threatening glance his way.

Swallowing hard Daryl shuffled his feet. He hated this. He didn't exactly have plans. But he knew how fucking dangerous it all was. He fucked around cleaning enough of the bull's hooves back a the ranch to know how temperamental they were in a stall. On their back? With nothing but a rope? Never having been dehorned? Nah fuck that.

But Merle stared expectantly. The man in white expensive clothing with way too many rings on his hands was eyeing him up like a prized pig. He honestly doubted he even looked the part of a real cowboy.

But then Merle laughed rubbing his back in a way Daryl resented. "Don't worry bout him none. He's the quiet type." He mused to the rich prick. To his surprise the bastard nodded rubbing the stubble on his chin. "Makes sense. Most are." Are what?!

Shaking his head Jaxson looked down at... Lou who nodded excitedly back before meeting Merle's eyes with a gleeful expectant glint tainting her own that Daryl had seen over and over in every five dollar whore Merle brought home.

"Alright... deal. Your boy against mine. If he can out ride 'em you get ta see Lou again..." he sighed. Merle nodded smirking victoriously. "Until then-" He extended his hand toward the girl taking her hand in his raising it to his lips. But before he could even get close Jaxon's hand moved to his waist band where a pistol would be.

Stepping back Merle gripped the back of Daryl's shirt dragging him to the door with him. "AND... that's my queue baby! See you both Saturday!"

It was silent outside of the bar. Only the sound of the crickets singing and the cicadas screaming echoed through the parking lot as both Daryl and Merle stumbled to their cancer riddled truck. Struggling for domain of the driver's seat, Daryl pulled the keys from his pocket dangling them high for Merle to see. From the hard cracked leather seat he watched as Merle threw his usual temper tantrum. Bitching and complain through the glass of the truck he kicked a few rocks in the bar's parking lot before taking a piss beside the truck to mark his territory.

As Merle climbed into his side of the truck Daryl couldn't help himself... not that he wanted to anyhow. Cocking back he punched Merle square in the fucking nose just as the dick got the door closed so that the back of his head smaked off the glass window pane on his door. Watching for a moment as Merle groaned as held his face, blood flowing freely from between his fingers onto his lap, Daryl pulled a used MacWondles napkin out from the cupholder and shoved it in Merle's face.

"The fuck was tha' for?!" Merle growled with tears springing to the corners of his eyes holding the useless napkin up to his face that instantly turned to mush in his hands from the sheer amount of blood that soaked up in it. Pulling out of the lot Daryl stayed silent. Focused on the road and not swerving all over it both in his anger and drunken haze.

"Well?!" Merle hissed once more, winding the window down to toss the soaked paper out the window and pull his wifebeater off to use as a rag,

"Know damned well what ya did..." Daryl murmured. Staring like Daryl had just grown a second head Merle waved his free arm around exaggeratedly. "Obviously fuckin' not dip shit!" Merle screamed his voice sounding congested and nasally as he pinched his nose shut.

Pulling to a stop at the only stop sign in town Daryl turned and glared at Merle. His full attention on his brother he took in everything he desperately tried to find something redeeming in his brother... in that moment it was damned near impossible. It was a good thing he had been with him this long to know what his thick and thin looked like.

"You know I never rode a bull before." He murmured softly, his shoulders dropping and face falling.

Merle smirked a warm chuckle swelled from his chest. "Well hell baby brother." He hummed, relaxing in his seat. "Didn't have ta hit me just cause ya were scared... I'm sure learning ta ride a bull is jest as easy as riding a bike... you'll see. It'll be easy as pie. And trust me, there will be a hefty lump sum in for ya too if you win."

Daryl doubted that. He doubted that he'd ever make it out into the ring without being caught as a sham. Christ... who were they fooling?

Pulling away from the stop sign towards the trailer they both shared Daryl couldn't shake the nagging gnawing dread that ate into his stomach. But... Family came first. Right?

**Author's Note:

Hi guys!! This is the first Chapter fic I've ever posted to Tumblr made for Tumblr!! I would really really appreciate some feed back to know how I'm doing! I am so excited to share this WIP with you as it progresses!

Thank you all so much!!

[bonkedupscringo]

What? Troongendros invading women's spaces? I promise you miss, I would never. As a matter of fact, I don't want to share spaces with anyone. Every time I hear someone piss I am filled with an unquenchable thirst for blood. Ideally I'd like to have my own spaces so I don't have to hear you fry chicken two feet away from me. I don't even want other trannies near me. If anyone comes within five feet of me, I will immediately activate my stand ability, Eighteen Naked Cowboys In The Showers At Ram Ranch, and use it to rip out all of their toenails. Leave me the fuck alone.

[lyricaloveranalysis]

Does Ram Ranch Really Rock?

In the viral song “Ram Ranch” by Grant MacDonald, the song is set at a ranching facility known as “Ram Ranch”. The song begins with a guitar riff and vocals that are off rhythm saying “18 naked cowboys in the showers at Ram Ranch, big hard throbbing cocks wanting to be sucked. 18 naked cowboys wanting to be fucked. Cowboys in the showers at Ram Ranch on their knees wanting to suck cowboy cocks, Ram Ranch really rocks!” 18, or eighteen is the number above 17 and below 19. They are naked, as in having no clothing, as they are in the showers. The cowboys possibly live there if they are showering there. At least two of the cowboys have large erections, that are so intense that they feel the blood throbbing, and the possessors of these penises want to receive the act of fellatio, which is when the penis is sucked. All 18 of these cowboys want to engage in sex acts. Some of the cowboys are even on their knees, which creates a visual image as you can beg on your knees, but also a common oral sex position is where the person getting “the suck” stands, and the person doing “the suck” is on their knees. If they do receive the cowboy cocks, they are already in the proper position to do so. Grant MacDonald then goes to claim that Ram Ranch really rocks, however that is his opinion and there is no input from any of the cowboys. The next verse has the lyrics “Hot hard buff cowboys, their cocks throbbing hard. 18 more wild cowboys out in the yard, big bulging cocks ever so hard.” There are sexually attractive muscular cowboys with intense erections, however Grant MacDonald states the cowboys are hard twice, which he did not need to do. We already know that their penises are hard. We are then told that there are 18 more cowboys, that are wild, possibly undomesticated, in the yard, who also have extremely hard erections, so intense that it is visible through their pants or other leg garments. There is a chord change and then the lines “Orgy in the showers at Ram Ranch, big hard throbbing cocks ramming cowboy butt, like a breeding ram wanting to rut.” There is an orgy, which I believe to be where five or more people engage in sex acts with each other, occurring in the showers, likely between the 18 cowboys mentioned earlier in the song. Said cowboys are engaging in the act of anal sex, which is compared to the manner in which rams mate, playing on the name of the ranch they are at. A rut is a sexual activity in deer and some other mammals which males fight each other for access to females, meaning that they are “fighting” each other with their penises in a very rough manner. The next verse, “Big hard throbbing cocks getting sucked real deep, cowboys even getting fucked in their sleep. Ram Ranch, it rocks! Cowboys love big hard throbbing cocks.” The erect penises of the cowboys are being orally pleasured, and some of them even are the recipients of sex acts in their sleep. It is possible that only cowboys who have a kink or fantasy of sleep sex enter Ram Ranch as this could be a possible breach of consent otherwise, or a contract is signed while entering Ram Ranch to affirm that they are OK with doing it. Ram Ranch is then claimed to “rock”, or be “cool”, and I cannot confirm this, and then Grant MacDonald claims that “cowboys love big hard throbbing cocks”. I cannot speak on behalf of all cowboys, however I struggle to believe that a general trait of cowboys is their love of large erect penises. It is possible the only cowboys Grant MacDonald is familiar with is cowboys who do enjoy big hard throbbing cocks, or he is overgeneralizing. The entire song is then repeated again, and I can safely say that Ram Ranch might rock, although I have never been to it.