#‘a wind farm in texas’

[barometric]

[prairietrashdotcom]

not to conjure a baffling crossover that would probably piss off fans of both works. but. if the blackwood sisters somehow crossed paths with the firefly family they would get each other. they would vibe.

[alltheirdamn]

Rotten | cowboy!joel x f!reader

Summary: Sharing land with Joel Miller has always been infuriating, but when your bad attitude finally gets his attention...things get messy. Rating: 18+ Explicit MDNI Word Count: 5.2k Warnings: No-Outbreak AU, banter and arguing, explicit language, brat taming, semi dark!joel, dubcon elements, degrading, choking, rough spanking, hair pulling, face slapping, throat fucking, touch of dacryphilia, rope/bondage, rough unprotected piv sex, hint of a subspace moment, orgasm denial, squirting, creampie, no aftercare because joel is an old, grumpy asshole A/N: Y'all probably wouldn't believe me if I told you Apple by Charlie XCX inspired this random fic...but anyway, this one goes out to my sweet bb angel @lotusbxtch <3 thank you for always being my partner in crime in the late hours of the evening ilysm

Part II

Masterlist | Ko-Fi

The Texas sun beat down on your skin as you rode through the acres of land—your land— stretching out before you. Passed down from generation to generation, this entire pasture of fields and wild barley was yours. After both of your parents died during a freak accident, you inherited the land and dealt with upkeep and farm animals as if it were your life. And it was your life. Every inch of this farmland was yours, no matter what anyone said. 

You pressed your heels into the side of your horse, Mac, and urged him further down through the tall grass. The summer hadn’t been kind to the fields, the grass yellowing in most places, but what would you do about it? Tell the sun to stop shining? All you could do was take care of the land and ensure nothing went wrong. The animals were taken care of, the wild wheat still grew strong in the outskirts past your tiny farm home, and you had enough money to put dinner on the table for yourself at the end of your night. 

No trouble at all. 

What was trouble, though, was Joel Miller riding his ass right down the edge of your land. The sun cast him in a dark silhouette as he rode closer, his broad body sitting tall on the back of his horse. You held back the reigns, shushing Mac gently as you slowed him to a trot, keeping a healthy distance from the insufferable man trespassing onto your fields. 

“Think y’got yourself a bit lost out here, Miller,” you hollered. 

Joel removed the black cowboy hat from his head; the grey hairs streaking through his curls shimmered in the sunlight as he swiped an arm over his sweaty forehead. Every inch of his skin was sunkissed and tan from hours under the sun, his greying beard patchy and well-kept despite his rugged exterior. If he weren’t such an asshole, maybe you’d even consider him attractive, but your irritation with him ran deeper than any other emotion. 

Staring up at you under thick brows, Joel quirked an amused grin and shrugged. 

“Ain’t lost at all, darlin’. S’my land out here.”

You steered Mac forward, keeping yourself parallel with Joel’s body. You weren’t intimidated by any man, let alone Joel Miller. He may have a few decades on you, but that didn’t matter. The Miller family had always been a problem. For generations, they feuded with your family over acres of land that stretched across the horizon, never agreeing on who owned what. Before Joel, his father had caused an uproar in your family, and now he just had to continue causing problems. Would you ever rid yourself of this man and his family?

“I suggest y’take your ass home ‘fore I make you leave,” you warned. 

The wind kicked around you, fanning your hair down around your shoulders. Joel caught how your hair flared under your cowboy hat, and a hint of mischief sparkled inside his dark brown eyes. He was a fucking nuisance and still on your fucking land. 

“Careful now, darlin’. Those are some mighty big fightin’ words.”

You straightened your spine, holding firm on the reigns to keep yourself anchored. Mac huffed impatiently as if he knew how sour your mood was turning. The longer you kept yourself around Joel, the quicker your anger grew. The sun would set soon, and you still had miles to cover before you made it home; you wouldn’t entertain an old cowboy all night, even if he were staring at you like you were a wild horse to be tamed. 

“This is the last time I’m tellin’ you to stay off my land, Joel. I mean it.”

Joel chuckled lightly as if your words meant nothing. He placed his hat back over the matted curls on his head and began riding past you. You glared over your shoulder, watching his body travel further into the horizon and away from the rolling fields of your land. 

**

The summer wasn’t getting any easier. The sun grew brighter each day, and the air thickened with humidity, making it nearly impossible to continue wearing anything restrictive. With no one else around to pester you, you paraded around the stables in a tight top, a pair of daisy dukes, and your usual worn leather boots. The fewer clothes, the better—even if that meant getting bit up by a few mosquitoes here and there. 

You were deep into cleaning Mac’s stall when you heard the sound of hoofs pounding against the dirt ground outside the stables. Your body went rigid; you knew who it was without looking. Who else would it be out here? The horse in the distance bristled as its rider dropped to the ground, his heavy footfall nearing you as you exited the stall with a towel slung over your shoulder. 

Joel stood tall in the entrance, his broad frame sucking in all of the light as he walked closer. He wore an old denim button-up, and the sleeves pushed up his tan forearms, exposing the thickly corded muscles that ran down to his hands. Without a cowboy hat resting over his eyes, you could see how rich and dark they were as they stared you down. Despite hating him, your body reacted on its own accord. You clenched your thighs, trying to quell the ache growing inside your core. Leaning against the stall, you narrowed your eyes, watching Joel stalking closer. His steps were confident—casually, even—as if he owned the damn place. 

“Not sure why y’think it’s okay to come waltzin’ in here,” you scowled, folding your arms over your chest. 

“Ain’t you just a ray of sunshine,” Joel smirked. 

“Fuck off, old man,” you snapped, rolling your eyes. 

“What was that, darlin?” 

Joel stepped forward, and you mimicked his movements, drawing yourself closer to him. Even with his height towering over you, you were unphased. This man wouldn’t get the best of you. 

“Oh, sorry. Should I be speakin’ louder? Ain’t sure if y’got your hearing aids in.”

“No, I heard y’just fine. Just wanna hear you say it again.”

The toe of your boot tapped against his as you glared up at him. With a smug grin stretching across your face, you repeated your retort. 

“Fuck off. Old man.”

Joel’s body tensed, his eyes narrowed as he considered your words. You weren’t backing down; he was on your property and, quite frankly, pissing you off. He could bitch and moan all he wanted about how this land was his birthright, but he was wrong. Your parents settled the matter generations ago and never once faltered against the Millers. That wouldn’t change now. You’d uphold their wishes and continue fighting for what was yours. 

“Y’gotta damn nasty mouth on such a tiny body. Ain’t your parents teach you some manners?” Joel questioned. 

“They taught me enough, but it ain’t gonna stop me from tellin’ you off. So, get the hell off my property,” you demanded. 

You glanced down, noticing Joel’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. It was amusing seeing him all riled up. Who knew he had that kind of spark in him? You wondered just how far you could push him until he snapped. 

“Ain’t you just spoiled rotten. Is that what it is? Y’think everythin’ is yours ‘cause your mommy and daddy said so?”

His voice was taunting, a litany of rhetorical questions to which he didn’t care to know the answer. Whatever you said, it wouldn’t matter because his mind was made up. Stubborn old man.

“I don’t think everythin’ is mine. I know it is,” you objected. “So, move your old ass back to your side of the pasture and get out of my face.”

Joel crowded your body, walking you back towards the stall door until your body pressed into the wood. You lifted your chin defiantly, watching his eyes clouded with rage. 

“Spoiled lil’ brat. Should teach you a lesson for the way you’re speakin’ to me,” Joel growled. 

Let’s see how far we can take this, you thought. 

“Whatcha gonna do? Spank me?” You laughed, gracing him with a rueful smile. 

Placing his hands above you on the door, Joel caged you between his body. You had nowhere to run; truthfully, you didn’t want to run. The incessant ache between your legs was swelling, your underwear practically soaked with the burning anticipation coursing through your veins. 

“Keep runnin’ your mouth, darlin’. S’only gonna make things worse for you.”

“I ain’t scared of you, Joel.”

“You damn well should be,” he warned. 

Joel’s hand shot out to grab the base of your neck, yanking you a breath away from his lips. The rich scent of whiskey wafted off his lips as he held you close, his fingers tightening around your throat. You rolled your tongue across your bottom lip, an invitation for whatever threat he had. You could take it. 

“Y’think it’s cute actin’ this way? Think you’re just tough shit, and no one will put you in your place, hmm?” Joel whispered. 

“You gonna be the one to do it, Joel?” You challenged. 

Joel used his grip on your throat to spin you toward the door, your cheek smashing into the wood as he pinned you against it. The instant sting of his palm radiated through the denim of your shorts, the heat of his hand melting into your skin. You yelped in pain, dragging your nails over the wood that strained against the press of your body. His hand smoothed over the curve of your ass before delivering another jarring smack. 

“Fuck!” You cried, biting back tears. 

“Spoiled.” Smack. “Fuckin’.” Smack. “Brat.” Smack. Smack. 

“Joel, please!” You begged. 

You weren’t sure if you were begging for more or begging for him to stop. Either way, he was unrelenting, his handprint leaving welts on your skin. Joel’s grip on your throat tightened, restricting your breathing as he dug his fingers into the supple skin of your ass. Prodding…smoothing…spanking. A continuous, viscous cycle you were weak against. Every bite of his hand on your body intensified the throbbing between your legs, your clit swelling with need. Repeating slaps against your other cheek forced tears down your face, their path leading down your neck and onto Joel’s warm hand. 

“You cryin’, darlin’?” Joel taunted. “Gonna beg me to stop?”

“Please—” You choked out, your words garbled and strained. 

Joel’s lips touched your ear, his breath fanning over your skin in waves. 

“M’fraid I can’t. Not til’ y’learn your lesson.”

You twisted your head around, your tired eyes connecting with his. There wasn’t a hint of brown in his irises as his pupils swallowed them whole, an unsatisfied look washing over his features. He wasn’t done, and neither were you. 

“Fuck you,” you snarled. 

Joel tilted his head, his graying mustache twitching as his lips curved into a smile. An unmistakable hint of desire masked his expression, keeping you reeled in and wanting more. If he could keep going, then so could you. 

“You just ain’t backin’ down, huh?” Joel questioned. 

You wagged your head back and forth, his fingers squeezing against your windpipes. Joel’s hand coasted up your waist, tugging at the belt loop on your shorts until your body spun to face his. Even with tears streaming down your cheeks, you grinned at him, clearly unbothered by the onslaught of pain he had inflicted. 

“That all y’got, old man?” You lipped off. 

“Call me old man one more time, darlin’,” Joel warned his face inches from yours. 

“Old. Man.” You punctuated each word through gritted teeth.

Joel cupped your sex through your jeans, no doubt feeling the arousal seeping through the denim fabric. A rouge whimper fell off your lips, and you bit back any more sounds to give away the desperation rolling through your veins.

“Fuckin’ brat,” he exhaled, but there was a lightness in his voice.

You were both giving into some carnal need, electrifying the humid air around you. You chased his mouth, wanting to lap up every threat on his whiskey-drenched tongue. Joel pulled back, your lips connecting with nothing as you arched forward. With a slight pout, you huffed in annoyance. 

“Look who’s actin’ all desperate now. Just beggin’ for this old man to fuck you.”

“Betcha can’t even get it up in the first place,” you grumbled. 

Joel’s hand connected with your cheek, a rough slap sending your face to the side. Dammit, if that wasn’t the hottest thing he’d done. The sting of his palm sent a wave of pleasure rolling through your stomach, a burning need just aching to come undone. Thick fingers gripped your jaw, wagging your face side to side. 

“I’ve heard enough of that bratty mouth,” Joel said decisively. 

His hands brushed over your collarbone, grasping your shoulders and shoving you to your knees. Your legs hit the straw-covered ground with a soft thud, your skin scraping against the dry hay. He wasted no time undoing his large belt buckle, working his cock out of the confines of his jeans, and your mouth went dry at the sight of him. Joel was hung like a fucking horse, his length thick and no short of any girth. Precum dribbled down off the tip, the sticky mess enticing you to move closer. Staring up at him through your lashes, you waited for his next move. He might have you on your knees, but you’d have his cock, and that was power in itself. 

“Make use of that mouth and suck,” he commanded. 

You lapped at the precum, his cock twitching against every flick of your tongue. You explored his length, dragging your tongue along the veins running down the underside of his cock. Joel gripped the hair at the crown of your head, guiding your mouth over the tip and down his length. Your nose brushed against the bushy hair at the base, his musky scent flooding your senses—it was intoxicating. 

“There we go,” Joel hummed, his voice gravely and strained. “So fuckin’ full of me y’can’t talk back.”

His name came out muffled as you tried to speak, your tongue flatted against the base of his cock. He pushed his cock a centimeter further, the tip knocking against the back of your throat. You gagged around him, your hands slapping against his thick thighs. 

“I don’t wanna hear y’say a damn word,” Joel growled. “You’re gonna take my fuckin’ cock down your throat and choke on it.”

You clawed at his thighs as tears sprung along your waterline, threatening to spill over the longer he kept himself inside your mouth. His fingers tightened around tiny strands of your hair, anchoring you to his cock as he thrusted himself deeper. You tried to protest and pull away, but his grip on you was unforgiving. 

“Please,” you garbled, spit rolling down your chin. 

“Still actin’ like a spoiled fuckin’ brat, ain’t you? Think y’can get whatever you want?”

He granted you an inch to breathe, pulling you halfway off his cock. You inhaled sharply through your nose, trying to latch onto any control. Joel used his grip on your hair to slide your mouth up and down his length, the sound of your lips around his the only noise aside from his labored breathing. You tapped on his thigh twice, hoping he’d relent and give you a reprieve. 

“Real fuckin’ cute,” he laughed. “Struggle all y’want, darlin’. I ain’t stoppin’.”

The tears flowed freely now, mixing with the saliva pooling down your jaw as you worked him deeper down your throat. Every strained attempt to beg him to stop fell on deaf ears; his cock only pushed further down until you had no choice but to sit there completely disarmed and helpless. The scratches left on his thighs didn’t phase him at all, nor did your whimpers as you tried to swallow a breath around him. 

“Keep cryin’, darlin’. Just makes you look prettier when I’m ruinin’ you,” Joel muttered. 

As your nose pressed against the hair at his navel, Joel’s hand brushed over your cheek, collecting a rogue tear on his thumb. Through blurred eyes and running mascara, you blinked up at him right as he tasted the tear pooling on the pad of his fingertip. 

“Delicious,” he hummed.

A dangerous grin split across his face, his hips jerking forward one last time before he wrenched you free from his cock. You coughed violently, the air wooshing back into your lungs with each heaving breath. You swiped the back of your hand across your mouth, wiping off the saliva coating your chin and jaw. 

“You fuckin’ asshole,” you choked out. 

Crouching down, Joel met you at eye level, his eyes soulless and dark. You shivered under his heavy gaze and flinched away from his face as he crowded you. 

“How’s that attitude of yours now?” He questioned. 

You reeled back, sending a glob of spit across the bridge of his nose. Joel scrunched his eyes together, jaw clenched as he wiped away your spit. You bared your teeth at him, still refusing to back down. Joel straightened to his full height, working at shoving his cock back in his jeans. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a bit disappointed; you hated him but wanted more. 

“Guess I ain’t been rough enough,” Joel grumbled, walking down the stable. 

You watched as he picked a bundle of lead rope off the hook near Mac’s stall, weighing it between his hands. A jolt of panic ran through your veins as you saw his eyes light up in mischief. You were so fucked. You half-considered running, but where was the fun in that? Joel would only chase you down, and even that sounded delicious. There was no use in fighting it now; you were in it for the long haul. 

“Now,” he started, his steps slow as he walked back toward your kneeling body. “I’m gonna give you two options. Y’either walk your ass outside like a good girl, or I drag you out by your hair. What’s it gonna be, darlin’?”

“I’ll walk,” you snapped, rising to your feet. 

Your knees ached with each step as you walked into the blinding daylight outside the stables. Gnats swarmed around your face as you stood idle by the entrance, glancing over your shoulder at Joel stalking behind you. The rope swung beside his body as he carried it in his hand, the lingering threat lying within the coarse fibers that wound together. His head jerked over to the tie rack beside the barn, his eyes trained on the vacant stall before the expanse of your land. 

“C’mon, brat.”

He waltzed in front of you, guiding you to the empty platform with a stern look gracing his features. Without a single word, Joel yanked your wrists together, his deft fingers working at knotting the rope around your skin. The fraying pieces bit into your skin, rubbing and burning the longer he twisted it in loops around your hands. He gave the rope a good tug, humming in satisfaction once the binding was tight enough. Guiding your arms upwards, he clipped the lead to the metal loop on one side of the tie rack, keeping your body suspended awkwardly as your wrists ached from the restraint. You refused to say a word, too frustrated even to protest his actions. If you thought you were helpless before, you were utterly powerless now. It was just you, Joel, and the empty stretch of land that went on for miles. 

Joel pressed his body against your back, the warmth of his touch ignited heat within your core all over again. You squirmed as his hands roamed over your curves, his fingers tracing the outline of your breasts under your sweat-covered shirt. He pinched at your nipples, finding their pebbled indentation hidden within your bra. A desperate whine left your lips as you swayed against the pull of the rope, your feet slipping against the ground. 

“See all that land out there,” Joel whispered, his teeth nipping at your earlobe. “That’s all mine, darlin’, and I’m gonna make sure you remember that by the time I’m through with you.”

“Tyin’ me up and fuckin’ me ain’t gonna change my mind,” you scoffed. 

“Guess I’m just gonna have to fuck some sense into you.”

Joel’s hands worked down your body, making quick work of undoing your shorts and shoving them down to your boots. The hot, sticky summer air breezed over your bare skin, hardly helping to soothe the painful ache between your thighs. Thick, calloused fingers massaged the skin of your hips, kneading your supple curves as you writhed against his touch. You could beg him for more, and oh god, did you want to. You wanted to cave and relinquish everything just to quell the burning pleasure inside your body, but you wouldn’t beg. Not for Joel Miller or any other man. 

Joel swiped a finger through your drenched folds, tutting at your pliancy. The brief touch alone was enough to spark stars behind your eyes, your breath growing shallow.

“Well, would ya’ look at that,” Joel tutted. “You’re soakin’ my fingers, darlin’.”

You refused to say a word, too afraid you’d succumb to your own devices. You wouldn’t ask him to fuck you, but Jesus Christ, you fucking needed it. Every fiber of your being cried for release, and if it meant you had to be tied up and fucked in front of the yellow fields in front of you, then that’s what you’d do. 

“I’ll give you one last chance,” Joel offered. “Say this land is mine and I’ll let you go.”

You glanced over your shoulder at him, no doubt a mess after being on your knees before him. There was a cruelty in his eyes that alarmed you, but you were too focused on what you needed, even to feel afraid. 

“This is my land,” you stated, your chin held high. “S’my family’s land and it’s gonna stay that way ‘til I’m in my grave.”

“Wrong fuckin’ answer.”

Joel knocked your legs apart, the denim of his jeans dragging against your slick arousal. There was a moment where there was absolutely nothing, a vacancy of sound or touch that deprived your senses. Maybe you were teetering on the edge of delirium, too far gone to know what he was doing behind you, but then you felt everything. The thick head of his cock brushed against your entrance, rubbing between your silken folds in tantalizing strokes. That was the only warning he gave before pushing himself deeper, splitting you open inch by inch. You cried out as your body worked to stretch around his length, and your vision blackened as the sharp pain of the sensation jolted through your veins. 

“Fuck!” You screamed. 

The adjustment to his size was agonizing despite how wet you were. Nothing could have prepared you for the way Joel broke you open, nor was there anything that could have prepared you for how brutal he would become. Thrust after thrust, he assaulted you, completely breaking you and molding you to his cock. The pull of the rope burnt the skin of your wrists as he took you harder, your body lurching against the restraints with each snap of his hips. Joel tugged your body backward, shifting your legs until you were forced to bend at the waist. Words wouldn’t form on your lips, and you dissolved into a heap of wailing cries as he plunged deeper into you. 

“Where’s all that loudmouthin’ now?” Joel grunted, his fingers bruising your hips. “So fuckin’ cock drunk y’can’t even speak?”

Your silence only drove him crazier, his speed quickening mercilessly. The ache inside your core was all-consuming, a burning wildfire inside your stomach. You dropped your head between your shoulders and dug your nails into your palms, keeping yourself grounded. 

“Joel,” you gasped. “Please.”

You failed in your attempts not to beg this man, throwing everything to the wayside as you succumbed to the pulsing ache between your legs. 

“Shut up, brat,” he snapped. 

“Joel!” You sobbed. “I’m gonna—fuck—please. I need to—to…”

The words turned to ash on your tongue as he snaked a hand around your body, his fingers drawing circles over your swollen clit. You yelped at the roughness of his fingers, the sensation alone nearly causing your legs to buckle beneath you. If it weren’t for the ropes holding you firmly in place, you would have fallen to the ground. 

“Poor thing,” he crooned in your ear. “Y’wanna cum? Is that what you want?”

Another drive of his hips. Another draw of his fingers. Tormenting movements that kept you on the edge of ecstasy and suffering. Your arousal pooled down your inner thighs, mixing with the sticky sweat that clung to every inch of your skin. 

“I need it, Joel,” you gasped. “Christ, please!”

“Y’gonna change your mind?”

“N—.”

Joel pinched your clit between his fingers, and your words drowned out under a helpless wail falling from your lips. He pulled you back by your hair, winding it around his fist as he drew his lips down your neck. The sweltering touch of his mouth on your skin and his rough fingers on your sensitive bud were enough to topple you closer to the edge. The furnace igniting inside your stomach wouldn’t stop any time soon, but you still wouldn’t give up. He was always going to be wrong, and you’d rather die than give him the satisfaction. 

“Say it, darlin’. Say the words, and y’can cum all over my cock.”

“Never,” you panted. “Never gonna—.”

He pistoned into you, his cock spearing deeper and deeper, completely paralyzing you. Sobs wracked through your body as you took every thrust, and your mind began to float off into a blissed-out haze that drowned out the noise behind you. 

“Gonna own all this fuckin’ land,” Joel gritted out. “Own it just like I own this fuckin’ pussy.”

Please. Please. You weren’t sure if you repeated the words inside your mind or aloud; either way, Joel only huffed a laugh and continued with his repetitive assaults on your body. Your orgasm began barreling toward you, your core fluttering around him as it sparked beneath your skin. Everything inside you tensed up, and your jaw went slack with an outward cry as you slipped under the rapid release coursing inside your body. 

“Oh fuck!” You sobbed. “Fuck… fuck… fuck!”

Your sex clenched around Joel so hard he choked on a breath, his body rigid against yours as you spasmed beneath his hold. Hot, wet streams of your orgasm drenched his cock as he tore through your orgasm with shallow thrusts. Jole rammed into you over and over again until another wave of pleasure slammed into your body. 

“Fuckin’ brat,” he hissed. “Never said y’could cum, did I?”

His hand vanished from your waist and returned to the welted skin of your ass with a resounding smack. There wasn’t enough air in your lungs to cry out, nor any more tears to shed. You hung against the ropes, limp and pliant, as he took you with abandon. 

With another snap of his hips against yours, Joel spilled into you, his release filling you to the brim as he released a carnal groan. You could barely lift your head to look back at him as he untangled his fingers from your hair and pulled away. 

Every atom inside your body was pulsing with overstimulation, your ass welted and bruised, and your throat raw from screaming. The constant thrum of your heartbeat in your ears smothered the sound of Joel’s belt buckle clanging together, the warmth of his body far removed from yours as you stood on tired legs. Moments passed without a single touch, and you wondered if Joel would leave you there tied to the rack and dripping with cum. 

“Think y’learned your lesson now?” He asked, his voice sounding far away. 

All you could do was wag your head in protest, your eyes pinned down to the floor, fixated on the pool of saliva that had fallen from your lips. Joel appeared beside you, his grey hair dissolved and face red from exertion. He worked at unclasping the rope from the hook, unbinding your wrists until your arms fell limp to your sides. Your body was weightless without the stability of the rope, and you fell forward, anticipating the impact against the cement. Joel was quicker, though, winding a strong arm around your front and holding you up. 

“Easy now, darlin’,” he whispered softly. “Easy.”

Your fingers wrapped around his arm, clinging to anything to escape the impending collapse of your entire body. Your boots scruffed against the cement of the stall, kicking dust into the air around you. With his arm still braced around your chest, he used the other to guide your shorts back up your legs and onto your hips. You hissed as the denim rubbed against your ass, the swell of your skin still prickling with pain no matter how brief the touch was. 

“Can y’stand on your own?” He asked. 

“Mhmm,” you mumbled.

“Attagirl.”

Yet as he released your body, you staggered forward, grasping onto the tie rack for support. Joel waited until you found your balance and offered a hand. You were hesitant but relented silently. He took your wrists in one large hand and began massaging at the reddened skin, working out any tension left from the rope. You stared blankly at him, watching a crease burrow between his eyebrows. You still hated him, right? Right? Something so minimal shouldn’t make your heart pound against your chest, but there you were, speechless as you watched this rough man touch your skin with a tenderness he had yet shown. 

“Suns goin’ down soon,” he muttered, nodding to the sky. 

You peered over your shoulder, surprised to see the sun dipping over the horizon. You hadn’t noticed the pinky hue of the sunset while he fucked you, but now you stared at it in wonderment. 

“Guess it is,” you sighed. “Y’should get your ass off my property ‘fore it gets too late.”

Joel snorted, glancing up at you through thick lashes. In the dwindling sunlight, his eyes had dissolved from onyx back into a glistening amber color, the flecks of rich brown dancing as he looked at you. 

“Stubborn lil’ thing,” he huffed. 

He dropped your hands and straightened to his full height. Perspiration coated his button-up, staining it in dark spots as excess beats of sweat still rolled down his muscular neck. You tamed the flyaways of your hair, trying to minimize the obscenity of your look the longer he stood before you. It was no use after what he had done. 

“Y’ain’t changin’ your mind, huh?”

“Nope,” you shook your head. 

Joel rolled his eyes and shoved a hand into his front pocket. Leaning close, he brought his other hand to your face, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, letting his fingers brush over your cheek before pulling away. 

“Guess I’ll just come back tomorrow and try again.”

“Y’come back here tomorrow, and I’ll shoot you dead, Miller.”

He cracked a grin and began to retreat toward his horse beside the stable. You stood motionless as he mounted the brown mare, slipping the reigns between his hands. Joel gave you a farewell wave before taking off across the flowing fields, his broad figure dissolving into the sunset. You slumped against the wall of the stables, letting your body fall to the ground. A smile slid across your face, taking in the open land before you. 

You didn’t give up. It was all still yours.

[wolfstarlibrarian]

Cowboy Wolfstar Fic Recs

Cowboys have always been cool, and thankfully the number of cowboy AUs is growing! These are a few that I've found but reshare with links to more if you know them, please!

white snakeroot by @maladaptivewriting, something_about_mothman Storms are not uncommon in Remus’s sleepy rural town, what is unusual is spotting a cowboy riding through the rain and wind as if it didn’t touch them. The sightings of the mysterious cowboy have been plaguing Remus since he was a child, but after a chance encounter in one storm, Remus is suddenly flung into a nightmare that he’s not sure he’ll wake from. His friend, James, is missing and all signs point to a ghost town as James’s possible location. With nothing but the company of an old wive’s tale about dangers lurking in the town, Remus abandons his home to search for his friend. Unsure what he’ll find when he gets there, or if he’ll even make it home.

Drover by @krethes There he stands, leaning against the side of the wagon next to the remuda, their band of spare horses, casually picking dirt out from under his nails with the tip of a knife. He's just… watching him. He's dressed for the cold morning in the same brown coat they all wear this time of year, but it looks natural on him, like he was born in it. A small smile plays at the corner of his scar-slashed mouth, and heat floods Sirius face as memories of last night flood his mind, filtering through his groggy haze. OR: Cowboy Wolfstar. That's it. That's the fic.

The Ransom of Black Beauty by spaceboyharry He was whipping wind, humid summer rains, and the silent roll of heat lightning over Southern skies. He was a teeming school of red-breasted bream, a covey of quail in wild meadow-land, the roll of breath from Hagood’s snort on an early January morning. He was a herd of cattle thundering across a Texas plain, rope tight in my fist and thighs sure against my horse. He was hot, heavy, everything, everywhere, all at once. Remus and James need cash, and fast. A botched kidnapping scheme lands them in hot water, but Remus is willing to stand the flames to keep Sirius Black for his own.

Hell Outta Dodge -orphaned account In which Remus Lupin, Texas cowhand extraordinaire, stops to buy a drink from a saloon ran by a certain intriguing bartender.

stars are brighter in the countryside by @fromthetorturedpoet Most people would call him naive, even stupid, for leaving a place full of opportunities. However, as the days passed, he felt less and less comfortable in the environment he was trained to call home. Before he knew it, Sirius decided to venture into the countryside, diving into new friendships and a sweet relationship with a cowboy, capable of bringing him a sense of peace and tranquility he hadn't experienced in years.

The Road to Sweetwater by @euripidestrousers “Well. They don't call me Mad Sirius Black for nothing”, Black drawls lazily, “Speaking of drinks - you got any whiskey in your pack there or just old biscuits? Caught me talking politics and now my throat's awful dry.” Remus lifts his brow incredulously, disbelief creeping into his voice, “You must think I got a real short memory thinking you're owed a drink after that show back there. You clean forget you're at my mercy, and then go trying to steal my horse-” “Not in the habit of letting a man put me in the dirt without buying me a drink”, Black drawls, his grin turning sly, “Or maybe you got something else that'll make defeat a mite easier to swallow.” Sirius Black is wanted by the law in the state of Wyoming and Remus Lupin, who's still deciding which side of the law a bounty hunter sits on, captures him for the price on his head. It should be simple. But there's something in the air that Fall that sets Remus' compass spinning, and nothing seems simple anymore.

*Honorable Mention: Remus is NOT a cowboy in the following fic (I checked with the author) but he does work on a farm and he rides a horse, so I have to include it anyway:

Beneath a Big Blue Sky by @eyra The four-by-four heaves its way down long, twisting lanes, little more than dirt tracks scuffed into the surrounding fields and hemmed in by serpentine walls of flat, grey stone. They truly are in the middle of nowhere: the countryside rushes past, all rolling green hills and vast, endless skies, and it's odious. Sirius wants to murder James with his bare hands. Sirius and James accidentally find themselves on a Yorkshire farm during lambing season. The farmer’s son thinks that’s a bit annoying, actually.

BOOK REC:

Looking for a book similar to these fics? With characters that was SO FREAKING SIMILAR to Remus + Sirius that you’re looking around fandom for the author? Check out this book with an angel face ranch hand, his hippy mom, and a new dark haired stranger who was BETRAYED, WRONGFULLY IMPRISONED, AND OUT FOR REVENGE. Also they're both magic with animals. Guys Like Him by Aimee Nicole Walker 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️

Several heads swiveled in the blond’s direction as he walked by, but Finley seemed unaware of the attention. It stirred uncharacteristic feelings, making him want to mark and claim a man he didn’t even know.

[mickandmusings]

iii. pretend that it's love

part of the ' hangman & honey ' series!

summary: when janet and jacob sr. take off to austin for the weekend, they leave jake and honey behind to take care of the farm. jake finds himself in an empty pasture with honey on an usually chilly night. with hidden feelings festering in both of their hearts, once comfortable silence is now dangerous, leading to the end-all, be-all question: who will be the first to break?

word count: 3.3k

warnings: fluffy, awkward acts of love between teenagers, jake being a southern gentleman, unrealistic traditional southern grandparents, truly an opposites attract trope, honey being a sleepy girl (me too), plotting grandmothers and nosey grandfathers

-

For a Texas night in late April, the air was unusually chilly. The wind blew through with a sharp bite, sending chills straight down to Honey's bones. She's perched in the bed of Jake's truck, thick quilts under her to provide some comfort from the cold metal hitting her skin. Another blanket is draped across her legs all the way up to her chin, acting as a flimsy barrier between the chilling air and her cold limbs. She shivers lightly, curling herself into Jake's side. He looks down from gazing at the starry sky to look at her, pulling her close, the warmth in his body radiating like a furnace. His simple jeans and short sleeved shirt kept him plenty warm. He knew Honey ran cold, she always had, and it was something he was more than accustomed too. She always had his spare jacket thrown across her shoulders and arms, and she'd curl the sleeves around her fists to keep her hands warm. Honey buries her head into the crook of his arm, her nose cold. She and Jake had been outside in the empty field for a little over an hour, the endless sky clear and starry, prompting Honey to coax Jake to take the truck out to stargaze. It wasn't like there was anything else better to do in Haven-Janet and Jacob Sr. had gone into Austin for the weekend, leaving the two teenagers to hold down the fort. The adults trusted them, at least enough to feed themselves and keep the house standing for a few days.

"It wasn't this cold when I was reading on the porch, now I'm freezin'!" Honey was all but chattering teeth and icicles hanging from her face. "How are you not cold?"

"When you were sittin' on the porch it was still daylight, it's dark out now, it's gonna be colder," Jake shrugs and looks down at her, his windswept locks under a backwards baseball cap. "Guess I just naturally run hot."

He tacks on a wink at the end of his sentence, prompting an eye-roll from Honey.

"You're so cocky sometimes, Seresin."

Jake lets out an audible laugh, echoing off the trees in the distance. Silence quickly falls over the two, save for the chirping insects and the wind blowing around them. Jake finds this silence more deafening than if they were yelling at the top of their lungs. Silence seemed to be something new that had started between the two, one that Honey too found herself despising, despite her quiet nature. But, she had guessed, internally, what do you talk about with someone who already knows everything about you?

Honey said nothing, very rarely the first to break the quiet, only curling back into Jake's side, sending a jolt of electricity through Jake's skin. Her touch alone sent his heart racing. She simply smiled up at him and set her attention back on the stars sparkling in the expansive sky. Jake wracked his brain for something to say, the still air making his eye twitch.

"The night is kind of underwhelming don't you think? Feels like we should throw a party or a bonfire or somethin' since the adults aren't around."

Honey couldn't disagree more, she was thoroughly enjoying their quiet night. It was a little on the more romantic side, especially considering that they were just friends, but she let herself enjoy the moment. Honey takes her turn to shrug against Jake.

"It's kind of nice, don't you think? It's a beautiful night, quiet. Plus, anyone who would come to a party is at prom."

Jake only nods his head, he had completely forgotten about prom this weekend, he and Honey were underclassmen, so it wasn't like they'd be able to go anyway.

"Well," he starts, finding a response to Honey's statement. "As much as you enjoy the quiet, I hate it. We'll be at prom this time in a year or so, dancin' to music a decade old, eatin' PTO mom snacks, watchin' couples fall victim to teen pregnancy...truly a magical night we're missin' out on, huh?"

"I probably won't even go when it's our turn," Honey starts, resting in Jake's hold, his arm thrown around her to keep her close. "Why would I want to be in a room full mostly of people I detest in a dress I can't sit down in?"

"Aren't you a little ray of sunshine, Hon," Jake's reply is sarcastic, earning him a pointed look from the girl in his arms. "I mean, c'mon, prom is a rite of passage. If you don't go, who am I supposed to go with?"

"I hardly doubt you'll have any problem finding someone to go with, Mr. Haven-High-Football-Star," Honey bites back just as sarcastic. "I'll probably have to stand in line just to get a picture with you."

Jake says nothing, not having any retort for that, he only gives her a small head shake as he pulls her in close again. Honey sighs contently, starting to warm from her current ice-cube state. Her eyes gaze at the stars, taking in all the flickering lights. Jake's attention should probably be focused on the sky too, but he finds himself staring at her instead. She was here, in his arms, wearing his well-worn sweatshirt, with her eyes dazzling under a moonlit sky. It was a perfect scenario, the epitome of a romance book scene, like the ones Honey read, the very ones that lived on Jake's own bookcase. This would be her secret fantasies come to life if he could just muster up the courage to lean in and kiss her. His heart races at the thought, his overwhelming fondness for her bubbling to the surface. If she can hear his heart, she doesn't comment on it, which Jake is grateful for.

"Do you think we'll be together forever?" Honey speaks without thinking. Jake nearly chokes.

"W-What?"

"I just mean, we've been friends forever, and I know you'll sweep some girl off her feet, and you'll marry her and have like four kids. Do you think we'll still be friends? I'll be your kid's weird Aunt Honey who lives alone with her ten cats."

It hurt Honey's own heart to even say it aloud, to come to the realization that Jake would move on with his life loving someone that wasn't her, but she had quickly learned to accept it as her reality. He would find some beautiful girl, and Honey would hear all about her. He'd ask Honey's opinions about rings and proposals, and she'd go along with it, as if she wasn't madly in love with a boy whose heart belonged to someone else.

Beside her, Jake's heart sank. He'd never pictured her as some sort of quasi-relative. For nearly the past year, he'd pictured her as the woman in white walking down the aisle, the woman he pictured rocking his kids to sleep, the girl who would always sleep on the opposite side of a shared bed, just like she did now. Looking down at her wide eyes reflecting the stars, his heart begged his brain to just tell her, dammit! He longed to tell her that she would always be so much more than his best friend. Realizing he'd been quiet for perhaps a moment too long, he responds.

"Of course we'll always be friends, Honey. You can't get rid of me, ever."

His heart pounded in his chest, his palms feeling sweaty against the blanket she was covered by. She smiles up at him, one that didn't quite meet her eyes, before settling back against his chest. Silence falls between them again, and this time neither of them makes a move to stop it. Jake's mind is reeling, his heart begging his brain to just spill his every thought, while his brain fights back, saying that telling her would be a mistake he couldn't take back. Telling her could ruin the near decade of friendship, the level of comfort they found in one another, it would ruin everything.

Meanwhile, Honey sat melancholy in his arms as her cold hands played with a loose string on the blanket. Her heart sank at his response, truly hammering the nail in the coffin of her expectations. It was foolish really, to think he'd wax some sonnet for her, this was Jake, not Mr. Darcy. She let out a sigh and closed her eyes, silently vowing to herself she'd let off of the romance novels, maybe try a biography or two. Her eyes felt heavy, and her chest ached as she attempted to sleep it off.

So stuck in his own head, Jake had hardly noticed the tiredness seeping into Honey's face. Once he looked down, he'd noted her eyes drooping in exhaustion, her body limp against his. She was tired, and close to falling asleep.

"Let's get you back to the house, Hon, you're dozin' off."

Honey's chest felt as if someone had stabbed her. If they went back to the house, he'd peel her from his arms and they'd sleep at least a foot of distance from one another in Jake's bed. At least out here she could lie under the stars in his arms, pretending it was love instead of friendship between them. She shakes her head against his chest, letting out a sleepy mumble.

"M'comfortable, don't move me. Let's just sleep out here."

Jake simply nods, letting her be. She was often grumpy when she was sleepy, and there was no point in arguing with her. He'd just move her once she was completely asleep. She rested against Jake, her eyes closed as she began to breathe deeply. Jake smiled, brushing hair out of her eyes as she slept. His heart began to hammer again, she looked radiant, even in sleep.

He watches her for a moment, watching as the deep breaths cause her chest to rise and fall. With her asleep, Jake finds himself a bit more confident, knowing she won't remember anything he says or does. In an act of confidence he can't explain, he lets his lips meet her forehead, a breathy 'I love you' stumbling from his mouth. It's a quiet whisper, and Honey's asleep, so he relaxes as it falls into the night air.

Honey scoots closer to him, her head now burrowed into the side of his neck, making him stiffen. His heart beats rapidly against his chest, she had been asleep, he was sure of it.

"I love you too, J," her whisper is more quiet than his, but it's sealed with a kiss to the underside of his jaw, one that makes his face heat up. He looks down to confirm that she knew what he meant, but she was already asleep, for certain this time. He let out a chuckle, pulling her closer if that was possible. There was no great fanfare, not the love profession she deserved, but he had professed his love, and she'd accepted it. It was perfectly simple, which seemed fitting for someone like him. His hands threaded through her hair, his heart slowing in pace when he realized what this meant: he hadn't ruined anything, she felt the same way.

Honey felt the same way.

Jake was tired, and he wasn't sure if he was dreaming all of this, but as his eyes shut, his jacket under his head as a makeshift pillow, he allowed himself to fall asleep to this fantasy. Even for a brief moment in time, even if he woke up and all of this had been his mind's trick, he had the girl he loved sleeping in his arms, and she loved him the same way he loved her.

-

When Jake finally woke up, hours later, just before the crack of dawn that Sunday morning, he rubbed his eyes and checked his watch, sighing at the early morning hour. He smiled as he glanced down at Honey, who was still fast asleep in his arms, before he moved slowly to scoop her up bridal style. He swings open the passenger door and slides her into the seat as she lets out a grumble. She was definitely still asleep, but she didn't like his interruption. Jake chuckles under his breath and kisses her forehead before closing the door. He quickly moved to the other side of the truck and started it, quickly reversing and moving out of the open gate. The noise prompts Honey to open her eyes, finally looking over at Jake with squinted eyes as he begins to drive out of the pasture.

"What're ya doin'?" Her voice was full of sleep, her accent thick.

"Takin' us back home, it's late, need to get you in bed, Hon."

She said nothing, only nodding as she gathered her blanket back up around her chin, sliding across the seat to rest her head against Jake's arm. He smiled and kept one hand on the wheel, the other slinging over her frame, giving her ample room to curl into his side. She was asleep before he could even get them back to the house, the lull of the truck making her eyes droop faster than he could drive. When he parks the truck in the driveway, he scoops her into his arms again, pushing open the front door and locking it back before making his way up the stairs. Jake set her down softly on their shared bed, carefully peeling off her shoes and tucking her under their comforter. After chucking his boots across the room, he slid in next to her, Honey's body automatically gravitating toward his like a magnet. He pulled her close, tucking her head into the crook of his neck. His arms came around her waist, and hers sat atop his chest. He found himself more awake than he should be for the few hours of sleep he'd gotten, but Jake simply couldn't stop looking at her. He pushed her hair out of her face, and her eyes blinked open.

"Didn't mean to wake you," he whispered down to her.

She shook her head. "You didn't, promise." Her eyes cut down to his chest, her fingers rubbing against the fabric of his shirt, tracing the logo on his corner pocket. She brought her knees to her chest, and Jake braced himself for what she was going to say. She just had that look drawn across her face, the one that told him she would likely take everything back. That she'd only wanted to express her platonic love.

"Jake?" Her voice is quiet.

"Hm?" His heart hammers, he'd never been so nervous in his life.

"I don't regret what I said, I meant it. It wasn't just some sleep-hazed confession, I-I've loved you since we were kids," Her eyes were glassy, and Jake's heart lurched, his thumb brushing off stray tears on her face. "I get it, if you didn't mean it like that, but-"

"Honey, I meant it like that."

Jake's words stop her in her tracks, her eyes darting between his own. Her brows furrow, her mouth simply opening and closing as she tries to form words.

"I love you, Honey. I've been in love with you, and I-I realized that 'bout eight months ago, that first night you slept here. Probably before then, I was just too stupid to realize it. A-And-," he pauses, letting out a nervous chuckle. "And I know you deserve better than this truly pathetic confession," his hand grazes against her cheek softly. "You're too good for me, but I'm yours if you'd have me."

Honey's warm eyes are full of tears, most of which had already fallen. Jake thought she needed dramatic, Say Anything-boombox declarations, but she didn't want any of that, she just wanted him. She smiled as her bottom lip wobbled, but she was so happy she couldn't get her eyes to stop watering. Her brain was in overdrive, and she couldn't form words.

"Didn't mean to make you cry, darlin'," his voice was a whisper, so impossibly soft, a tone she'd never heard fall from his lips. His calloused thumb wiped them away again, and she brought her own hand to the side of his face. He leaned into her cold hand, kissing her palm. Her eyes looked into his own at the action, so overwhelmed with love for the boy she simply couldn't speak. No one had ever loved her, not the way Jake seemed to. He moved closer, only an inch of space between them before he spoke.

"W-Would it," he whispers, the hand on her face tilting her closer to his own. "Can I kiss you?"

Honey's heart hammers as she lets out a chuckle, closing the gap between them both, their lips meeting. Fireworks erupted between them, as if the Fourth of July had come early. When they separated, Honey rested her forehead against his own, smiling a smile that made her eyes warmer than he'd ever seen them. He smiled back, pulling her back into his arms, kissing her forehead from where she rested in the crook of his neck, her legs intertwined with his own.

Within minutes, Honey was back asleep, resting peacefully in his arms. Jake stayed awake for nearly an hour after she'd drifted off, simply staring down at her, his chest nearly bursting with all of his emotions. With the weight now off his chest, he tucked Honey under his chin and let his own eyes fall shut, both of them falling asleep in the warmth of one another.

-

Just a few hours later, when Janet Seresin opened her front door and trampled up the stairs to wake the two teenagers under her roof, she lightly opened her grandson's door, her eyes widening dramatically. Jake and Honey slept tangled into one another-she had seen them sleep in the same bed their entire lives, but, this, this was different. If she was any other parent or guardian, she would've woken them up with a sort of disappointed expression, making them separate. Instead she simply smiled down at them, her heart warming at the young love she'd been praying to blossom. Never underestimate the power of a praying grandmother.

She'd been all smiles when she'd descended down the stairs, her husband standing at the kitchen counter when she entered the kitchen.

"Let me guess, those two were still sleepin'?" Jacob Sr.'s voice was always gruff, but it now had a tone of humor in it.

"Yes, and I'm not going to bother them, it looked like they were mighty tired."

Jacob Sr. lifted an eyebrow at his wife, she was far too happy for them to just be sleeping. Something had happened, and he wanted to know.

"Janie, honey, you're all but blushin' and skippin' like a little girl. What happened?"

Janet smiles, still feeling like a teenage girl in love every time her husband uses his pet names for her. She smiles a wide smile at Jacob, positively giddy.

"I'm not for sure, but I think those two are together, Jay," She smiled as she pulled out ingredients for dinner from the fridge. "You should have seen them, they've always been close, but it's different this time. I told you it would happen before graduation, so you owe me my part of the bet, Jacob Seresin."

The bet had started as a joke between the married couple, a silly competition that had started when feelings began to blossom between the two teens. Janet had bet that Jake would admit it before graduation, while Jacob Sr. had a bet on Honey. Jacob simply shakes his head, leaning in to kiss her head.

"Whatever you want, sweetheart."

The gruff man swung open the door and headed towards the barn, his own smile painted across his face. Honey reminded him so much of a younger version of his wife, and he, too, had secretly hoped Jake would have the same feelings the sweet girl so obviously had for his grandson. Sure, he'd give Jake and Honey both a hard time, and there would have to be some new boundaries set, but he'd do that later. Right now, he had to build a new porch swing, his wife had won their bet after all.

-

taglist:

@djs8891

[allwaswell16]

A One Direction fic rec of fics in which one of the characters is messy or unkempt in some way as requested in this ask. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other recs here. Happy reading!

- Louis / Harry -

✧ Remember Me Before You by @kingsofeverything

(E, 293k, New Girl au) Desperate to find a new place to live after he comes home to find his boyfriend cheating, Harry moves into a loft with three strangers.

✧ Let's Fall in Love in a Place You Want to Stay by embro / @harryventura

(NR, 134k, Tarzan au) A George of the Jungle / Tarzan AU where Louis is a model who meets Wild Man Harry in the Congo. 

✧ more than just a dream by spit_on_me_larry

(E, 122k, uni) Louis detests Harry Styles. Except for the inconvenient fact that he can't seem to get Harry out of his head.

✧  That’s What I’m Here For by @taggiecb

(E, 46k, farm) Louis Tomlinson is a dairy farmer on a tiny farm in eastern Canada. Louis needs help running his business but has no idea where to even start looking. Luckily for him his children know just the man for the job.

✧ baby blue by @soldouthaz

(E, 39k, cowboy) He saunters down the front steps of the farmhouse in his Levi’s, brown snakeskin boots curving out from underneath the denim Louis’ sure he had specially made. He’s got on a plaid button-down tucked into the jeans because of course he does, curls spilling out from either side of his cowboy hat around his sunglasses and country-tan skin. 

✧ Lambing Season by @helloamhere

(E, 24k, farm) lambing season brings sleep deprivation, noisy alarms, cold barns, demanding animals, and warm strangers.

✧ The Wilds (series) by @jaerie

(E, 21k, omegaverse) The creatures that Louis observed every day weren't exactly human, but yet they were. Researchers had plucked some of them from their secluded island and transplanted them into an enclosure against their will like a bunch of zoo animals. 

✧ some evening in springtime by delsicle / @eeveelou

(M, 20k, age difference) Fresh out of veterinary school, Louis moves to a sleepy small town in Texas to take over the local animal clinic. But his new life is quickly interrupted by a middle aged rancher with a bad leg and a mysterious past, who really needs Louis's yoga skills.

✧ let me be your goodnight by theboyfriendstagram

(E, 17k, hate to love)  Harry lives with Gemma who happens to have the worst best friend in the world. The guy stays over almost every night, is completely messy and has bad manners that would cause Harry's eyes to roll so far back he sees his brain. 

✧ Prince Harry and the Expert in Motorcycle Maintenance by @juliusschmidt

(E, 15k, omegaverse) cinderella au in which prince harry rides a motorcycle and louis, a simple mechanic, fixes it.

✧  A Light Illuminated (Calling You Home) by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(T, 14k, royal) Louis has inherited a farm from an uncle he barely knew. It's not in the best state, and he's facing the reality of having to let some of the workers go if profits don't drastically improve. It's not a nice idea.

✧ say forever, you'll be mine by dilfrry / @silverfoxrry

(E, 12k, age difference) the trucker harry fic i wrote for my own guilty pleasure

✧ it's hard to fight naked by amaltaas / @loustarlight

(E, 11k, enemies to lovers)  where Louis leaves dirty socks on the couch, Zayn does assignments while he's high, and Harry is hopelessly crushing on his roommate.

✧ rinse cycle by beautlouis / @thelovejandles

(E, 10k, humor) Louis and Harry are both students living in the same apartment complex. They end up having the same laundry night and time. Louis can't stop staring at Harry and he can't figure out why Harry consistently points out Louis’ inside-out shirts, and his untied shoes, and messy hair. 

- Rare Pairs -

✧ I Had Rather Hear My Dog Bark At A Crow by sunsetmog / @magicalrocketships

(E, 122k, Louis/Nick Grimsahw) The first time Louis Tomlinson kisses him, Nick is three sheets to the wind, wearing a pirate hat, and so fucking tired of Louis being a complete and utter knobhead that he's spent the last ten minutes snapping at him.

✧ in your hands by carissima

(M, 13k, Liam/Louis) Liam’s decided to play dress up for this session and has somehow stumbled on Louis’ favourite fantasy. Mechanic Liam, dirty, rough and smelling of cars and sweat, looking ready to mess Louis the fuck up.

[doiliedaze]

Apple of my Eye: part one

Butch Farm hand! Abby x Farmer! reader

Warnings: none in this part, however this series will have mentions and discussion of SA so if that makes you uncomfortable please don’t read

Genre: fluff, subtle foreshadowing of angst

A/N: Like I’ve stated in the warning this story will contain mentions and discussions of SA that the reader experienced and how it has effected her life so if that makes you uncomfortable or triggers you please don’t read. I make up my stories bit by bit so as of right now there shouldn’t be any other warnings. Both reader and Abby are southern. I’ve never written someone as butch so please be nice as I want this to reflect a femme4butch relationship (because I desperately want it). I hope you all can enjoy.

───────┈ · ·

The sun stretches into the room as the curtains lay still. The breeze outside wispy and sharp, pushing summer leaves in its wake. Pumpkin my cat mewls at me as she stretches. Her orange fur soft and short.

“Good morning” I say as I nuzzle into her fur. Pumpkin has been my closet companion since I left Atlanta. We found each other when we both needed it most. She was so small then, scared too. Pumpkin thought the whole world was out to get her and so did I.

Texas was our do-over in more ways than one. This land isn’t new to me and I’m not new to it but owning it is. This property was my grandpas, my pops and now mine. He was over running it and sprung it on me. My momma said, “opportunities don’t knock twice so decided if your door needs to open.” I know it’s mumbo jumbo but she has her point, this all fell in my lap when I needed it who’s to say I’d get a chance at solitude again. Speaking of solitude who’s taking me out of mine?

I haven’t even had a chance to take my bonnet off yet or change into some decent clothes before there was a rapping on my front door. Hurriedly I reach for my pink robe and shot gun. Peeping through the window I got a glimpse of a very tired looking woman.

She’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Her hair was long, braided back. The golden locks compliment her pale skin. “Who are you?” I say through the door. “The farm hand your father hired.” The drawl on her voice damn near made me melt and place the gun to the side.

I open the door but don’t take off the chains, “you gonna let me in little missy?”

“Yes sorry!” I take off the chains and fully open the door.

My pops mentioned that he was gonna hire a farm hand till I was more comfortable on the farm by myself but he never mentioned how beautiful she was gonna be!

“Abigail Anderson ma’am, but you can call me Abby.” She says softly like she’s afraid to raise her voice. “Hello Abby…well you know who I am so let’s sort out house rules I supposed.”

House rules:

Always knock

Be mindful of the other

Feed Pumpkin if you see her bowl is empty at 8 am and/or 8 pm

These three rules have kept us at bay for the last three months. I love new people truly just not when I find them attractive, so I haven’t given myself a chance to know her and been quite the cold roommate. Our farm is quite expansive. We home cows, sheeps, goats and horses. However we don’t sell them so we are a dairy farm!

Abby has a liking to the cows. I often catch her feeding them honeydew or reading to them, even falling asleep in the fields. It was one of those days.

I feel my heart thump as I approach her sleeping figure. Her hat tilted over her face, her button nose peeking out. Hair spilling from a loose ponytail. Her shirt open showing off her toned chest and wife pleasure. Boots thrown to the side I assume so she could be more comfortable.

“Hey roomie” she says slow and quiet. “Sorry!” I urge realizing I was staring. “Y’know you’ve probably said two words to me and I think both have been sorry.” She chuckles.

“I’m sorry.” I whisper

“What for?” Clearing her throat as she fixes her hat, “do you even know what your sorry for mhm?”

“Sorry for saying sorry.”

The only sound after that was the winding breaking our tension. Until she pat the spot next to her. Nervously I sat down.

“Why don’t you like me? Have I offended you or-”

“Please stop I don’t dislike you and I’m sorry to cut you off but I truly don’t dislike you I’m just nervous. Not just with you I mean with people. Like have you seen me bring a friend up here? Nope! Well I cut mine off but that’s neither here nor there, I feel like I’m sharing too much now so to make sure I answered your question I don’t dislike you, you make me nervous but people make me nervous.” I can feel heat settle into my cheeks and embarrassment weigh on me. I hate when I start to just ramble I probably sound so stupid to her…

Her blue eyes study my dark brown ones before saying “I get anxious too.”

I nod, wanting this moment to end. I meant it when I said I cut my friends off. I couldn’t handle people especially in a bustling city anymore.

“How about we finish our chores and have dinner on the porch and talk?” She said moving her face into my wandering gaze.

“Sorry I mean yes we can…sorry for-” her squeezing my hand was enough to shut me up.

The day seemed to fly by even when we cooked together. We sat on the porch swing, facing the moonlight. For comfort I wrap myself in the fuzzy knitted blanket my grandma made for me when I was a little girl. I wonder if she’s brought anything like that with her?

“Abigail…Abby may I go first?” I clear my voice as I speak and twiddle with my fork. She gives me a silent yes with that damned gaze of hers.

“Where did you live before you lived here?” Her freckled hand slightly tightened around her fork but she kept a calm expression. “Seattle, Washington…it was beautiful especially when it rained. Which was always so I guess it was always beautiful. The rains actually not as bad as everyone thinks. It’s like a constant drizzle.”

I take leisure sips and bites as I listen. Her eyes lighting up as she tells me a bit about what she’d do over especially with her big friend group.

“So how are you adjusting here then? Seattle is different from Texas.”

“I was born here I just moved up there for personal reasons for a while is all.” I nod sensing a weight to what she was trying not to say.

“So why are you taking over the farm? Your father mentioned you use to live in Atlanta most people wouldn’t make that switch.”

I laugh lightly…my dad would gossip about me to a stranger.

“Well my dad was ready to just say fuck it and let the farm get bought out but I couldn’t let that happen. My sister lives in Chicago and she is married with children so she wouldn’t shift her life understandably so. I was ready to change…I always am so I took it. I mean I helped when I was a little girl and it’s been mostly the same!”

I rocked myself a bit faster on the porch swing and she matched my tempo.

“I am not a cat person.” She says trying to break the silence I think I created. “Do you hate Pumpkin?” I gasp causing her to snort a little and shake her head.

“Never been much of a cat person. Use to have dog named Alice.”

“Do you miss her?”

“Everyday…” she says looking at me a little.

I scoot a little closer, “we can get a dog. Not to replace her or anything but I’d like you to be as comfortable as possible so if you want a dog we can get a dog.”

“You don’t think it’ll be too much?” She turns to me, “we are on a farm I think a dog is fitting.” I laugh.

The rest of the night was filled with laughter and conversation I only remembered having. I forgot how nice it was to talk to someone. Abby is a total enigma; she is sweet and inviting but she’s also closed off. I guess we’re similar in that way.

We wrapped ourselves into the blanket until sunrise, me falling asleep first. I could tell she was watching over me. She’s so warm, and smells like cider. Her musk lulling me to sleep almost as quickly as her voice is.

She’s caught my eye and I’ve caught hers let’s see who’ll make the first move.

───────┈ · ·

A/N: im quite nervous about how you guys will like this one but I hope you guys will like it because it’s near and dead to my heart. I’m tryna write a slow burn and I hope it’s working lol. I want to start a tag list so comment if you want to be on it!! I’m in love the idea of butch Abby so I can’t wait to really write out her character and I am inspired by @bambiesfics so I’ll be making a moodboard for certain fics and I definitely am making one for this one!!

Taglist: @manfuckthisimout

(Dividers- @dollywons)

[jarate-pissman]

Silly Doodle of TF2 if they were dogs. I wanted their accessories to resemble their human counterparts, but it can be difficult because putting a dog into human clothes is hard to draw.

Scout: A Boston Terrier. A breed known for being lively and happy, it's friendly and open to strangers. Scout as a guard dog would show you where his owners keep the valuables if you give him even a crumb of attention. Also, they can be bug eyed and derpy at times.

Pyro: A Dalmatian. Duh. With a bag on their head that resembles pyro.

Soldier: Solly is an American Pitbull Terrier. The fact that it's a controversial breed makes it an even better fit! ABPTs were used in combat missions in WWI and II. In WWII they appeared often on war propaganda posters. One of the most well known ABPT was named Sgt Stubby in WWI, and he earned himself numerous medals. Stubby is probably the deciding factor. Soldier has an American flag bandana and his food bowl over his eyes. He smells faintly of rotten bbq ribs.

Heavy: An Ovcharka (Caucasian Shepherd) while originally the breed hailed from Georgia, the USSR pushed to have the breed standardized. The huge dog breed was originally bred for guarding purposes, and has a serious and protective nature. Perfect for guarding his medic. He greatly treasures his Sandvich, a stuffed squeaky toy from the bargain bin at the pet store.

Demoman: A one-eyed Scottish terrier with a sturdy body and a manly beard. My personal experience with Scotties as a dog groomer is that they are absolute assholes who are wary of strangers squeezing their ass glands. I'm pretty sure Demo would bite me too if I touched his asshole. Demo has a squeaky bouncy ball that resembles a sticky bomb, one eye, and a hat that looks like a beanie.

Engineer: An American Bulldog. Mainly this was influenced by their stocky body and their friendly personality. Bulldogs are also a very intelligent dog breed that possess high endurance, agility, and strength. American Bulldogs were bred with the intention that they would be a farm dog. I would have gone with the Blue Lacy, but it didn't feel very Engie, despite being the only breed outta Texas. Engineer dog has doggles.

Spy: A french bulldog. Both the French Bull Dog and the Boston Terrier both descended from the Bulldog, so in a way they are related. While a poodle would have fit Spy as well, Frenchies are pretty expensive in their own right, and the cost of their medical bills might as well cost 5 poodles. They're like the luxury bulldog, and I feel like the fact that Spy and Scout's breeds resemble each other makes it better. Since dogs don't usually wear balaclavas, Spy-dog got his face stuck in a pair of red/blu underwear and started wearing them ever since.

Medic: What dog is more demanding, bratty, and sadistic than a Pomeranian? Pomeranians are extroverted, lively, alert, and highly intelligent dogs of German origin. They can be aggressive to humans and dogs to try and prove themselves. They don't seem to realize how small they are, and somehow wind up ruling the house anyways, even if there are other dogs. I can just imagine Medic-dog commanding Heavy-dog, and Heavy-dog going along with whatever he says. Medic has tiny glasses and a stray hair curl.

Sniper: A dingo. Aloof, mysterious, and a bit scrawny for his size, he's an excellent hunter who can brave the scorching bush and all Australia has to offer.

[yourfavoritewitchbitch]

Badge Bunny - Part VI - Silver Linings

Home was never a place, until it was with you.

18+ Only! MDNI!

CW: Minimal use of Y/N. Read is referred to as "Bunny" or "Bun". Fluff and sweetness. Gator holds onto his insecurities from the past. SMUT AHEAD! Oral (m and f receiving). Fingering. Unprotected p in v. Reader with a vagina. Creampie.

WC: 7.7K

It seemed only natural. The two of you set off with no particular destination in mind, taking only what you could load in your old beat-up car.

The sun was setting low, casting its last rays of the day across a wide open sky as hues of orange and gold danced beyond the horizon. It was a slower change of pace driving with the windows down, your free flowing locks blowing in the breeze, as you chanced glances his way anytime you could.

There was a shift in him. It was small but it hadn’t been there before. He was smiling, tapping his foot along with the music and humming a lyric or two when he recognized the song that was playing on the radio.

Neither of you seem to have a care in the world, but you're struck with the sudden realization that this was the first time that Gator was free to live his own life and do as he pleased without the constant fear or pressure of living under his father's thumb. The weight of the past was no longer a heavy burden he had to carry.

He turned, as if he could sense your eyes were on him.

“What?” His grin widened, as he tilted his head.

“Just admiring the scenery.” You smirked, reaching over to lace your fingers with his. Your answer seemed to satisfy his curiosity as he chuckled and returned his attention back out the window.

You headed west, crossing the rest of the country heading for the coast, finding yourself in sunny California a few short days later. His skin was more tanned than you had ever seen it. Cheeks and nose dotted with a few more freckles in the process, with a permanent smile plastered to his face.

He was happy. You both were.

The money wouldn't last the way you were hopping from town to town but neither of you seemed to care. You'd make it last as long as he was content, saving where you could with dumpy motels and cheap gas station snacks or dollar menu drive-thru meals.

By the time he had been released, the ranch had been sold along with any of his belongings seized by the government. Karen and the girls were off in the wind, somehow weaseling her way out of any implications in the affairs of her imprisoned husband. He knew he'd never see them again. She'd most likely changed her name much like Dot, trying to make a new life for herself.

He left that prison with absolutely nothing, except you, but that's all he needed.

When it was time for that conversation of what you were going to do and where you were going to go, he brought up your parents who were still in Texas, asking if you wanted to visit and maybe stay a while. He'd never been that far south, used to the unforgiving northern winters and mild summers. You thought it might do him some good.

So, you ended up back in your hometown. Your relationship with your parents was still good, always keeping in touch with them while out on your own. They never understood your need for freedom, but they were supportive anyway.

You were a free spirit. Small towns made you feel caged in, yearning for a freedom you thought you needed, especially this small town. Except when you came back with him, you no longer had that feeling.

They owned a small farm on the edge of town, not nearly as large as what Gator was used to in Lehigh, but it had a few horses he could tend to in his free time. He had said he found it relaxing.

Your parents welcomed him with open arms and never judged him for his past. They were simply thankful their little girl had finally come home, certain that he had something to do with that.

You slept in your old bedroom for a few weeks while you sorted out your plans, cramped together in a twin sized bed, nestled cozy amongst your old comforter. It was surreal to have him here. Something you could have never quite imagined.

“I want to take care of you.” He whispered in the dark one night, as a sliver of moonlight through the curtains shown down on the both of you.

“You do take care of me baby.” Whispering back from the spot your head lay against his chest, listening to the soft thumping of his heartbeat.

“No, I mean I don’t want you workin’ in shitty dive bars to make ends meet. If I'm gonna be your husband you're gonna be taken care of.” He huffed, his calloused fingertips softly drawing patterns onto your side and down your back.

“Gator, I hate to break it to you, but that money isn't going to last forever, and you can't go back to law enforcement. Not to mention the fact that you're now an ex-convict.” Sighing out the last part, as you sat up, the old springs squeaking under your sudden movements.

“I'm sorry,” you quickly added as your chin drifted toward your chest.

“Hey, you've got nothin’ to be sorry for.” Rising up to sit beside you, gently lifting your chin to look at him. “You're just sayin’ the truth.”

He gently presses his lips to yours, pulling you back down to lay with him.

“If you—” trailing off a moment, not sure if you wanted to suggest it. “If you wanted to stay here for a while, my uncle owns an oil rig about an hour south. I'm sure my dad could talk to him about a job for you.”

“He'd do that f’me?” He asked incredulously, as if he shouldn't be afforded any kindness.

“Of course he would. You're family.” Saying it so assuredly, as you began to softly trace the moles dotted across his abdomen and chest.

He wasn't used to this. A family that seemed to care about one another without some ulterior motive at work. Warmth bloomed in his chest at the thought of finally finding a place where he belonged, right here with you.

He tried not to let his thoughts drag him down, but it had been weighing on him since he'd gotten out of prison. Your willingness to stand by him through the entire ordeal only solidified his unending love but he had to find a way to take care of you like he promised.

“I'll talk to him in the morning, baby. Get some rest.” Yawning out, as your eyes began to grow heavy, your hand stilling at his side.

“Okay, sweet thing.” He smiled to himself, kissing the top of your head letting himself drift off peacefully for the night.

-

Much to your delight, your dad was more than willing to talk to your uncle. Even going as far as offering to take Gator to talk to him in person the following day.

He showered, shaving the stubble he'd been neglecting the past few days and pulled on a pair of clean jeans.

“Bun, have you seen my… shit…” he called down the hall, as you moved toward the bedroom to help him.

You came to lean up against the doorframe, as he dug through the suitcase with his back to you, continuing to grumble. You couldn't hold back the grin that lifted the edges of your lips, biting down on your thumbnail watching the way his taut back muscles worked.

“Have I seen what, baby?” Finally asking him with a singsong voice.

“That black button up? I used to wear it t’church an’ for special occasions. I could've sworn it was in here.” Huffing out, as he continued shuffling clothes out of the way to get to the bottom.

“This one?” You gingerly replied.

He turned, unbuttoned pants hanging off his narrow hips slightly, as he looked at you.

You held it up, freshly pressed, with a self satisfied smirk plastered to your face. You'd figured he'd want to dress nice, even if he didn't have to, ironing out the wrinkles and making sure the collar was just right.

His lips curled up into a beaming smile as he crossed the room, taking the hanger from where it dangled on your outstretched finger.

“You're the best, baby.” He stated, pressing a kiss to your cheek, and shuffling over to the bed, laying the shirt down gently and pulling on a white undershirt he had already laid out.

He's tense, you could see the worry etched across his face before he turned back around. You came up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressed a kiss to his shoulder blade.

“You don't have to be so worried. My uncle always needs help, and you're practically family. There's no way he'll turn you down.” He sighed heavily, his shoulders deflating a bit.

“S’not what I'm worried about.” He mumbled, prying your hands away so he could face you.

He clasps his hands at your lower back, to pull you back into him, his honey hued eyes looking down at you swimming with sweet adoration.

“M’worried I won't do good enough. Fresh outta prison, they'll think I'm jus’ some idiot. Some kinda fuck up.”

His words made your heart ache. It wasn't Gator's words you were hearing; it was Roy's. Something he had heard his father tell him countless times. No matter how much distance he puts between himself and the past he still has trouble shaking those false insecurities.

“Baby, they'll teach you how to do what they need.” You soothed, gently laying your hand to his cheek as you spoke. “I have no doubts you're going to do amazing. Fuck anyone who thinks otherwise, my opinion is the only one that matters anyway.”

He grinned at that, pressing his lips to yours. You immediately card your fingers through his damp locks at the nape of his neck, pulling him further into your kiss, parting your lips for his tongue to glide past.

Under different circumstances, you'd ease him back onto the bed and make him forget what he was feeling but he had to finish getting ready.

He reluctantly pulled back and groaned as if he could read your mind, pressing his forehead to yours. You opened your eyes in time to see him frown, pursing his lips slightly, drawing a soft giggle from you.

“Don't pout.” Placing a quick peck to his lips, as an idea crossed your mind. “How long before you head out?”

“Uh, thirty minutes or so. Why?” He asked, as you looked up at him with a devilish smirk.

“I think you should relax, baby.” Moving your hands to his chest, pushing him back as his ass hit the bed, the metal frame groaning under his newly added weight.

“What're you… Oh.” He breathed out, as your hand reached down to palm him through his pants, pushing his thighs apart with your knee, before you began to sink down to the floor.

“Just relax baby.” You cooed, reaching up to pull at his jeans as he lifted his hips, dragging them and his boxers down at once.

His cock was already half hard, kicking up further when you leaned down spitting directly on his length.

“Fuck, you're my dirty girl, huh?” He hissed, as you wrapped your hand around him, watching through hooded eyes as you began to spread the makeshift lube up and down his hardening shaft.

“Just for you, Gator. Always for you.” Replying with a sultry tone, taking your tongue and running up the entire underside of his cock, kitten licking his tip, catching a pearlescent bead of precum before wrapping your lips around him, humming at the taste.

“Oh fuck!” He groans at the feeling when your mouth fully envelops him, his tip already pressing at the back of your throat, pausing a moment, before hollowing your cheeks and bobbing up and down his length, your hand continuing to work what you couldn't fit.

His hand found the back of your head, fingers tangling in your locks helping you move, watching the way your warm mouth and full lips molded around his thick cock, he was mesmerized.

“Yeah, baby. Just like that.” His praise went straight to your core as you hummed against him, rubbing your thighs together for a little friction but you reminded yourself this was all about him right now.

“I'm… fuck… I'm close.” He blurted out, pushing you further down as you tried to relax your throat, eyes watering at the sudden intrusion as you continued to bob and work your hand in tandem.

He bucked his hips upward, suddenly spilling into your mouth and down your throat as a string of expletives leaves his lips.

You swallow around his shaft, causing him to whine out bucking up once more before your hands pressed his thighs back to the bed, pulling off with a gasp, catching your breath as some of the mixture dribbled slightly out of your mouth.

His chest was heaving as he looked back down at you, muttering a quick apology, running his thumb under your eye wiping at stray tears before running it across your chin collecting his cum. You grab his hand holding it in place as you wrap your lips around the digit, swirling your tongue across the pad swallowing down every last drop.

“Fuck, I owe you one.” He grinned, as you pulled off with a pop, standing back up running your hand through his hair before wrapping your arms around his neck.

“You do.” Grinning back at him. “But right now, you need to finish getting ready.” Kissing his forehead, hugging him into your chest before reluctantly releasing him to finish getting dressed.

You were in the kitchen watching the horses in the field lost in your thoughts when you heard his heavy footsteps coming down the stairs and subsequently walking up behind you. His hair slicked back into that usual style you hadn't seen in a couple of weeks.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. Leaning your head back against his shoulder, the scent of his woodsy cologne and freshly laundered shirt surrounds you, bringing you a sense of comfort.

“Whatcha thinkin’ bout, sweet thing?” He hummed, lowering his chin to your shoulder, looking out across the same field.

“Nothing.” You giggled, causing him to lift his head.

“What’re you—” He began, before the back door swung open as your dad walked in.

“Oh, good.” He smiled seeing you both standing there. “Ready to go, Gator?”

“Sure, Mr. Y/L/N.” Leaving you with a kiss to your cheek. “We’ll be back soon.”

You watched them go, eyes lingering on the outline of the truck as it left the driveway. You already knew Gator would have a job by the time he left, so you thought you should celebrate when he returned home.

Your mom has gone into town earlier, bringing back everything you needed for a celebratory picnic. A small surprise that would surely bring a smile to his face.

Fresh fruits, along with a couple of sandwiches and his favorite chips were loaded into the old wicker basket before you went back upstairs to get yourself ready.

Heading straight for your closet, you had hidden a dress away just for the occasion, finding it exactly where you left it.

You produced a mid-length floral milkmaid sundress, that you knew would drive Gator absolutely feral, pairing it with your favorite cowboy boots.

-

They made it back around dinner time, and he would surely be starving.

You watched as they rounded the rusty pickup, your dad clapping a hand to Gator's shoulder as they walked to the house, both smiling.

“Hey pumpkin! Lookin’ pretty as a peach.” Your dad beamed as he entered, giving you a quick hug and kiss to the cheek before heading to the living room to find your mama.

Gator stopped and gaped at you. Only his wildest dreams could conjure up an angel as pretty as you standing before him now.

“Hey sweet thing! What'cha all dressed up for?” Eyeing you up and down before finally landing back to your face.

“Well, handsome.” Taking a few short steps between you to stand in front of him as he continued to pour over your curves. “I thought we could celebrate.” You smiled, throwing your hands around his neck.

“How'd you know I got the job?” He narrowed his eyes at you, while moving his hands to your hips, pulling you into him.

You shrugged, feigning innocence.

“I just had a feeling.” You giggled, nails scratching his scalp at the back of his head.

“A feeling, huh?” Raising an eyebrow in question.

“Yeap.” You simply stated, moving out of his grasp to take his hand, pulling him back out the door. “Now come on Mr. Tillman, before it gets too late.”

You'd already loaded the basket and a checkered blanket into the car a few minutes before he arrived, adding a bottle of white wine your mother had stashed away in the pantry.

“Wait, where we goin'?” He asked, obediently following you out.

“You'll see.” Looking over your shoulder as you rounded the car.

His hand was on your thigh as you drove, with the windows down and the radio up.

“So, you gonna tell me where you're takin’ me?” He finally asked about twenty minutes in. You'd been unusually quiet, just letting the music fill the comfortable silence.

“Nope.” You said with an over exaggerated pop and a small giggle.

“Fine.” He sighs, feigning annoyance but loving the sound of your excited laughter.

The car turned down a gravel dirt road that eventually turned into little more than a dirt path with the trees closing in around you.

“Uh, Bun?” He said with a little hesitation to his voice as he turned back to you.

“Trust me, baby.” You assured him so casually. “Look, it opens up ahead.”

His eyes looked out to where you had pointed. Sure enough, it opened up to a clearing, with a creek to the right of the small field.

The creek was picture perfect, just as you remembered it as a kid. An old swing was tied off to the big tree to the right, surely dry rotted by now but you can still remember using it during those hot summer days to stay cool.

On the other side of the bank, it was an open prairie. A few cows were grazing nearby, paying no attention to either of you as you began to spread out the oversized tablecloth.

You chatted as he helped you set out the food. It didn't go unnoticed the way he turned his nose up to the fresh fruit.

“Don't worry, I brought you plenty of chips and cookies.” You laughed, as he planted a wet kiss to your cheek.

“That's my girl.” He hummed, sitting down beside you, stretching his legs out, taking in the scenery as you handed him a sandwich and bag of chips.

He scarfed it down without a second thought, as you leisurely plucked berries from the Tupperware, popping them into your mouth.

He got distracted as soon as you stretched out beside him, kicking off your boots, legs on full display beneath your billowy skirt. The breeze catches it here and there, lifting it just enough for more of your plush thighs to be on display.

“You ready for dessert?” Reaching into the basket beside you pulling out some of his favorite cookies, handing it to him.

“I do want dessert, but I had something else in mind.” His eyes trail your curves, licking his lips, crooked grin on full display as he leaned in. “I think it's time to return that favor.”

He captured your lips, hand trailing up the inside of your thigh reaching the hem of your dress and sliding further still, expecting to find the edge of your panties but was met with your soft, bare skin instead.

“Bunny, you been walkin’ around without any panties on?” He asked, not waiting for a reply brushing his thumb across your slick lips before pressing in a little further finding your clit, eliciting a breathy moan from you.

“Not all day,” you managed to get out before he began to rub slow, torturous circles to the already puffy nub. “Mmphm… just… just took em’ off right before you got home.”

You whined, as he pulled his hand away.

“S’okay, I've got you. Just lay back and look all pretty f’me.” He hummed, as you lowered your upper half to the cloth below.

He crawled over, placing himself between your parted thighs, pressing his already hard cock against your needy core for just a moment with his lips to your neck before he began trailing kisses lower to any exposed skin he could find.

Down the column of your neck, across your shoulder, the top of your breasts as he trails lower still, relishing the feel of his weight, lips wet and warm against your skin. A hand to your thigh, pushing your skirt up as he lowers himself down, breath suddenly fanning across your exposed cunt.

You chance a glance down at him, eyes blown dark and wide with lust. He presses a kiss to your inner thigh, nipping the tender flesh drawing a small squeak from you as you drag the hem of your dress higher. His hands wrap around the tops of your thighs, nose nudging the seam of your slit breathing in your earthy scent.

His tongue darts out, dipping his head down, licking a fat stripe upward nudging your lips apart just barely grazing your clit, moaning to himself as your scent and taste overtake his senses.

Your back arches for him when he suddenly delves back in, tongue prodding at your aching hole making you clench around nothing, so worked up from earlier this morning already teetering along the edge.

“Ya’ taste so fuckin' good.” He mumbles out with a moan, grinding his hips down, searching for friction as his tongue finds your clit once more, circling it deftly before his lips close around you to suck harshly.

“Oh, Gator!” You moan out, fingers combing through his gelled locks, tugging when his ministrations didn't let up, undoing his styled mane.

He continued to switch between sucking and flicking or swirling his tongue, every little movement sending you hurtling toward the edge, as the heat began to build in your core.

You cried out when he added a finger, curling it expertly to find that spot on your frontal wall, then adding another to fill your aching pussy as it fluttered around him.

Your hips chased the feeling, as he drove his fingers in and out, working in tandem with his mouth guiding you further to your impending release.

“Gator, please—ahhh,” losing all coherent thought as your mind went blank.

“C’mon sweet thing,” popping off, letting his thumb replace his mouth so he could watch you properly fall apart. “I want t’feel you let go. Cum f’me.”

His words send you careening over the edge, as white hot heat pools at your midsection, your gummy walls contract around his fingers, squeezing and spasming around them.

“That's it… fuck…” He hissed, watching the way your hole pulsed around his thick digits as he worked you through your high.

Your legs felt heavy, falling further open as he finally removed his fingers, placing them in his mouth, sucking them clean.

“Mmm, so fuckin' sweet.” He laid his head against your thigh, watching your chest expanding and falling, trying to catch the breath he'd just helped take away.

Your face held a blissed out expression in the afterglow, a small smile tugging at the edges of your lips with your cheeks flushed the prettiest shade of pink.

There was no doubt in his mind he was staring up at the face of an angel. He didn't need to enter the pearly gates when his time on earth was over, not when he had heaven right here with you.

Finally coming back to your senses, your hand moved to shield your eyes from the sun as you squinted down at him, your ring catching the light and reflecting back toward him.

It weighed on his mind daily to ask you properly just as he'd promised. He'd been trying to find the perfect time to get down on one knee, do the whole shabang but suddenly in the quiet of this moment it just felt right. He was suddenly overcome with an idea.

“Whatcha thinkin' bout, handsome?” Your sweet voice cuts through his train of thought, your southern drawl that you hid so well beginning to sneak through the more time you spent in Texas.

“You. Us.” Replying without hesitation, as you lift your hand to card through his hair, pushing it back from his face. His eyelids fluttered closed with the tender touch.

You had similar thoughts running through your mind. Lucky you had found something in Gator, when no one else took the time to nurture and see his potential. He was strong willed and fiercely protective, showing you a love like you could never have imagined.

“C’mere baby.” You murmured softly, fingertips tracing his jaw. He laid a kiss to the inside of your thigh before he slowly pulled the hem of your dress back down, crawling up the length of your body, pressing a chaste kiss to the tip of your nose laying next to you. You rolled onto your side to face him.

He didn’t say anything at first, but he was suddenly looking at you with such adoration it made your heart ache.

“Marry me?” He blurted out after a moment, sporting that lopsided grin you’d come to love when he has some mischievous plan.

“What?” You giggled, furrowing your brow at the small outburst. “I am marrying you, Gator.”

He sat up then, taking your hand in his, warm and calloused pulling you to sit up with him.

“Bunny, ugh, fuck… I mean Y/N.” Clamping his eyes shut momentarily while internally scolding himself for already fucking it up. “There’s no reason we should wait, we can drive to the courthouse right now. I just want you to be mine forever.”

“Gator, we– are you sure?” You asked hesitantly, making sure this is what he wanted. You’d never pressure him into anything. You would have married him ages ago, had he already suggested it. The two of you were practically attached at the hip as it is.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I don’t need nothin’ else, as long as I have you. I should’ve wifed ya’ up a long time ago. So, whaddya say sweet thing? Marry me? Make me the happiest bastard in the world?” He smiled, big and bright as he searched your face for the answer.

“What’re we waiting for then?” You shrugged, with a smile mirroring his own. His eyes lit up, as he leaned in pressing his lips to yours, his hand coming to rest at the nape of your neck pulling you further into him. His tongue swept across your bottom lip, but you giggled again, pushing him away.

“Wait, baby, we need rings. We can’t just go get married without them. C’mon.” You quickly pulled your boots on. “I’ve got the perfect idea, but we need to hurry!”

The two of you packed up the picnic, in between kisses and laughs, rushing back to the car. The courthouse closed in roughly three hours. Plenty of time to get what you need.

“You sure ya’ wanna do this?” He spoke up, after you got out onto the road. “I mean, we can wait. Do the whole church thing, invite your family.”

“Gator, when have we ever done anything the traditional way?” Eyes cutting to him briefly, before looking back to the road, reaching over the console to intertwine your fingers with his.

“Yeah, I know. I jus’ didn’t want ya’ to feel like you’re missin’ out on somethin’ because a’me.” The last part came out a little quieter, overthinking the situation.

“Baby, if you’re sure. I’m sure. I’ve just been waiting on you.” A grin lifted the edges of your lips as his head whipped back around.

“Is that so?”

“Yeap! So, Gator Tillman, let’s go make it official!”

Your first stop was a small pawn shop on the edge of town. The place was a little dilapidated but the guy who owned it was pretty trustworthy. It had been around for as long as you could remember.

“Bunny, isn’t there a jewelry store ‘round here?” He asked as you pulled into a space out front, shutting off the ignition, turning to fully face him. His expression was a little crestfallen. “You deserve somethin’ better than some second hand ring.”

“Gator, baby, I would wear a paper ring if it meant being your wife. Just think of these as placeholders if you want to.”

A grin split his face at your admission.

“I love you.” He leaned over the seat, kissing the apple of your cheek.

“I love you too, so come on handsome.” You pushed your door open, rushing out leaving him to hurriedly catch up to you.

Luck was on your side, finding two simple gold bands that fit you both perfectly. You had called them placeholders, however they were anything but. Rings to signify the union that was about to take place. They would forever hold a special place in your heart.

You and Gator had endured so much misery and grief to finally come out the other side together. No, they were much more special than you had led him to believe but you didn't want him overthinking again.

“Hey baby, pull over.” He said, knocking you from your train of thought.

“For what?” Quirking your brow. “Cold feet?”

“Just right over here. Hurry!” He pressed, ignoring your little jab.

You hit the turn signal, coasting the car to a stop to the side of the road. He hopped out quickly without another word.

“What the hell are y—” The words die on your tongue as you watch him reach a small patch of wildflowers. He bent down and began gingerly picking the delicate stems one by one until he had a small bouquet worth.

Raising back up, he dusted himself off and walked back grinning ear to ear.

“Can't get married without flowers, right?” He said, sliding back in and setting them neatly in the cup holder.

It never ceased to amaze you how utterly tender and thoughtful this man could be, regardless of his rough exterior he outwardly shows to others. This gentle side that was never taken for granted, saved only for you.

“Yeah baby.” You replied, smiling as you looked down at them, the simple gesture making your heart swell.

“Come on, Bun.” He softly said, pulling you back to the present, grasping your hand in his as he placed a kiss to your knuckles.

You pulled back out into the highway ready for the next adventure.

Hand in hand, the officiant went through the small ceremony in his office at the courthouse with his secretary to bear witness to your union. Neither of you thought of changing, you still in your sundress and he in his button up and jeans. It was perfect just the way it was. Just the way you were.

“Gator, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? Will you honor and cherish her; love, trust and commit to her, through joy and pain, sickness and health, and whatever life may throw at you both, until death do you part?”

“I do.” Searching your eyes as he says it with no hesitation or waiver to his voice. He’s never been more sure of anything in his entire, miserable life. With you by his side, there’s nothing he can't do. You’re his rock. The one person who has never let him down.

The officiant then turns to you speaking the same words. Vows you plan to uphold the rest of your life because you couldn’t imagine doing it with anyone else. He finishes as you respond with the same, simple “I do.”

“And do we have the rings?”

“Oh, shit, yeah.” He drops your hand momentarily to dig through the front pocket of his jeans, pulling a giggle from you as he produced the two newly purchased bands, handing you his with a slight tremble to his hand.

He wasn't nervous to get married, ready to give you the world if he could. He was worried one day you'd finally come to your senses and leave him, just like everyone else he'd loved but when he looked back up into your eyes he saw the pure adoration and unwavering love you held for him.

You smiled and mouthed “I love you” as he finally slid your ring on, as he did the same when it was your turn to slide his on.

“You may now kiss the bride!” The officiant finally uttered those last few words, as Gator wound his arm around your waist, with his hand coming to cradle your jaw, pressing his lips firmly to yours.

Any lingering trepidation melted away with the warm glide of his lips across yours, pulling you in tight to his chest. That tiny bouquet of wildflowers long forgotten, crushed between the two of you.

“Alright kids,” the officiant cleared his throat before it got too heated, as you broke away from each other grinning ear to ear and a little out of breath. “I've got to get back to some clerical work. But you're officially Mr. and Mrs. Tillman.”

“Thank you!” You rang out, grabbing the certificate and dragging Gator out the door.

-

He drove you home beaming the entire way.

“Gator, do you feel any different?” You asked timidly, wringing your hands in your lap. Somehow nervous and excited at the same time.

“I feel— well, I don't know. I just know I love you, Bunny. A ring or certificate makes no difference. I knew you'd be my girl the first time I saw ya’.” He genuinely smiles, leaning over to take your hand in his.

“Is that so?” You smirk, with a lift of your brow.

“Prettiest thing I'd ever seen in Lehigh, hell in all o’Stark County. And the way ya’ blew me off. I knew you were gonna be a handful.”

Gator was never one to express his feelings so openly. It has taken a lot to get him this far to be able to open up to you. That first meeting had been memorable.

“Well, I remember a very handsome but very arrogant deputy blowing his vape right in my face as his way of flirting. Who wouldn't blow you off?”

He scoffs slightly, feigning offense.

“It worked though.”

You laughed out, causing him to follow with his own laughter.

“Do you feel any different, Mrs. Tillman?” He asked, lifting your hand and planting a kiss close to your new jewelry.

You smiled at the new last name, matching the man you loved but your smile fell for a moment. It seemed there would always be a feeling of something lurking in the corner, hiding and waiting to come out and ruin your happiness.

“I feel happy and nervous, but— I feel like something bad is waiting around the corner. This is the first time we've had peace since we've been together and I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

You didn't want to admit it. Since you've been together you have seen more drama and heartache than most people see in a lifetime. It was hard to somehow imagine a peaceful life ahead of you.

It's not something you could easily put away. It was always in the back of your mind, fearing it would never be put at ease.

“Bunny, it's ok. That's all behind us. We're out of that state and Roy won't be able to do anything behind bars.” He squeezed the hand he still held and you hoped to whatever higher power that was out there he was right.

-

Your parents weren't surprised when you told them the news. You were and always has been their rash, wild child. Though you didn't take things lightly, once something was made up in your mind there was no changing it.

They were happy for the both of you. And suddenly questions and comments were thrown around the room.

Are you staying here? Where are you going to live? You need a house, and permanent roots to settle down.

Very politely, yet firmly you told them that Gator had just gotten a job, and you'll figure it all out. They understood and also let you know you could stay with them as long as you needed to.

When the day had finally started to wind down and draw to a close you both got ready for bed.

You showered and neither of you bothered to redress, laying as close as possible, skin to skin. His heartbeat was in your ear as you laid your head on his chest, listening to his breathing even out before he began to softly snore.

You suddenly envied the way he could fall asleep so easily. It would be one of those long nights of tossing and turning before sleep would find you. Rolling away from him woke him immediately.

“Where d’ya think you're goin’, hmmm?” he hummed with a groggy, sleep ladened voice turning over to press his chest to your back as he draped his arm around your waist.

“Can't sleep. Didn't want to bother you, baby.” Replying, as he placed a soft kiss to your shoulder before nuzzling into your neck.

“Mmmm.” He hummed, pressing another kiss just below your jaw. “I can help with that.”

His hand trailed its way down the soft plains of your tummy, before slipping a calloused digit between your folds that made you gasp his name and grip his forearm when he brushed past your bundle of nerves igniting your core.

You spread your legs a little further apart, letting his fingers slip lower to your entrance, already beginning to grow slick with arousal as he slowly traced the outer edges.

“That's it, Bunny. Just relax, let me make you feel good so you can turn that little brain off for th’night.” He knew you far too well.

He dips his finger in slightly, your chest releasing a heavy sigh as it drifts back up to your clit where he began drawing lazy circles. There were no hurried movements, no reason to rush. You had all the time in the world.

He drew torturously slow patterns, continuously kissing up and down your neck and jaw until your breathy moans and pleas turned high pitched and whiny.

“What is it, sweet thing?” He whispered, withdrawing his hand from you completely.

“Please.” Replying with a pout, rolling over to your back. You could barely make his face out in the dim moon light streaming in from the gauzy curtains but it was enough.

You found the nape of his neck pulling him in to meet your lips. He moved, lowering his body to drape over yours, laying in between your parted thighs, leaning on his elbow to keep from completely crushing you, wrapping your arms around his neck keeping him there.

“Need you s’all.” You hummed, licking into his mouth eagerly, before sucking his bottom lip and releasing it with a slight pop, rolling your hips up into his for emphasis.

His cock suddenly kicked up with excitement, pinned between the two of you, growing with the eagerness you both shared.

He places soft kisses to the underside of your jaw, as you wrap your legs around his waist. His arousal now very evident, pressing up against your core, his velvety shaft against your soft, sensitive skin.

“Gator, I need you, please.” You rushed out, rolling your hips against his once more, loosening the grip around his neck.

He lifts up slightly, never breaking away as your hands trail his sides.

He hisses, pulling away when your hand wraps around his aching cock but he quickly replaces your hand with his to line him up with your entrance. His tip catches a moment later as he pushes himself in with a slow, fluid motion, your pussy giving no resistance from how he had worked you up.

“Fuck… always so goddamn tight.” He says, moaning out when he's buried himself completely, your pussy flutters at the feel of his thick, long cock sitting snugly against your inner walls.

“I love you, Bunny.” He whispers out, lifting his face to look at yours.

“I love you too.” You reply softly, all breathy and wanton, your hands trying to search and find purchase to pull him closer.

“Love you more than anything, baby. You're fuckin' perfect.” He says, removing himself almost entirely before plunging back in, somehow feeling deeper than before, taking your breath in the process.

Moans push past your lips, as he moves languidly, taking his time to work you up, watching all the subtle movements of your face contorting with pleasure. A pinched brow and slack jaw, eyes closing with unshed tears, each thrust of his hips pulling small gasps from you as he pressed you into the mattress below.

He reaches back, pulling your hand from him as he threads his fingers through yours, connecting and grounding you both.

“Can't believe I get to call you mine. Make you the happiest housewife out there… mmph… fuck Bunny. I felt that pussy move. You like that? Wanna be a little housewife?” He continues to thrust slowly, unbothered with changing the pace, relishing the way you feel wrapped around his cock.

“Yeah, Gator. I… ahhh… Always yours.” You moan out, when his tip grazes that sweet spongy spot as your eyes roll back from the pleasure. He buries himself impossibly deeper on the next thrust, pubic bone grazing your clit on the upward drive.

“Fuck! Right there.”

“Yeah? That it, sweet thing?” He coos, driving in and out, a pleasurable but unhurried pace. Grinding his hips with each thrust, working you toward climax.

You nod, suddenly rendered speechless, gripping his hand a little tighter as he pushed you toward the edge.

“Can't believe you're my wife. I'm fuckin’ my wife.” He rushes out, in seemingly disbelief but utter delight.

You couldn't help the laughter that bubbles up at his statement, that he paid little attention to as he continued to mumble, stilling his hips.

“My wife. My beautiful—” pausing to place a soft peck to your lips. “Sexy, way too smart for me, adorable—” another peck to your cheek. “Spit fire, sometimes crazy—” a peck to your nose.

“Hey, watch it.” You chide.

“You're amazing, Bunny. I love you.” Mumbling against your lips, pushing his hips back into yours with a groan.

“I— mmmm— I love you too.” Managing to breathe out before he sits up and pulling your hips into his, fingers digging into the sides of your waist to set a now brutal pace, chasing both of your highs.

“Ahhh— Ga— Gator!” You scream out, before he pushes your knees into your chest. His cock plunging in and out of your soaked pussy, hitting so deep, practically folding you in half with his weight pressing into you.

“Gonna— mmph— fuck. Gonna fill this tight little cunt until she can't take anymore.” His filthy mouth always did you in, pussy fluttering at his words.

“Then I'm going to fill it up again, fuck it back into to that tight hole.” He lets go of one of your legs, suddenly toying with your now aching clit making your hips jolt at the contact.

“Cum on my cock, baby, so I can fill this pussy full.” You clench around him, unable to control the way he was affecting you.

“That's it baby. Want me to fill you up? Go from housewife to stay at home mommy?” He chuckles, when he feels you clench again.

“Mmmhmmm… Ba—baby I'm—” You couldn't get the words out before you were coming undone. Unraveling beneath him as he continues to work you through your orgasm making sure you felt every inch of him, as he was hanging on by a thread to make sure you were satisfied.

You screamed his name, throwing your head back against the pillow as his thrusts became more erratic, the feeling of you wrapped around his cock was too much as he spilled inside of your tight channel.

“Fuckfuckfuck,” he hissed, trying to catch his breath as he stilled and collapsed on top of you, letting himself slide free as his legs stretched behind him out on the bed. He wound his arms under you, laying his head to your chest listening to your heartbeat steadily decrease as you came back down to earth.

“Are you trying to kill me?” You finally asked, running your fingers through his hair.

“Just tryin’ to show my wife a good time.” He says, placing a kiss between your breasts before looking up at you, laying his chin there lightly. His eyes had returned to their shade of muted gold and green, unhindered by the pure lust that was there moments ago.

“Mmhmm.” You hum. “My husband really knows how to drive me wild.”

“Yeah?” His grin grows wide, as he starts shifting to move beside you. “Say it again.”

“What? You drive me wild?” You ask teasingly, pulling the sheet up over the both of you before he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest.

“No baby,” he huffs, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Oh,” You release a giggle. “My husband likes his new title?”

“Mmhmm,” He mumbles into your hair, placing a soft kiss there. Sleep was already starting to pull him back under.

“I love you, Gator.” You softly whisper as he faintly hums his acknowledgement.

A year ago, the thought of being exactly where you are now was nothing more than a dream that always seemed out of reach. Laying here, safe and content in the arms of the man you loved was almost overwhelming.

As you finally drift off to sleep, the many thoughts of what is yet to come wash over you with a sense of comfort. No longer dreading what tomorrow may bring, instead looking forward to what possibilities life had in store because no matter what happens, he'd be by your side.

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

Never have I ever everlark on the prairie

Sooooo I’m just gonna summarize this one because in just a few minutes of thinking about it I came up with intricate backstories and am just… nope. I do not need another WIP, especially not an historical AU where I’d fall down a deep rabbit hole of Research! 🧐 lmao I’ll probably wind up saving this in a doc and thinking about it too much anyway

Thanks for the ask, Anon.

❤️ kdnfb

Never Have I Ever

Peeta married young, to the pretty girl on a neighboring farm in Ohio. They had twin daughters and a few happy years of marriage before a string of bad winters and failed crops end with his leg permanently injured, and his wife being pregnant and ill. She and their third child both die during childbirth. Devastated and financially strapped, Peeta packs up his girls and moves out west, to a small mining town where he’s one of the few farmers. He grows wheat and also does work as a blacksmith for his neighbors because the town blacksmith is usually overwhelmed working for the mines. That way, Peeta’s not solely dependent on crops for income.

Katniss the daughter of a Tejano miner and a Boston girl who fell in love with him while she was in Texas with her father for a year. They eloped to the more northern prairies and raised two daughters nearly to adulthood before he died in the mines. Katniss’s mother never officially went to medical school, but she works as a midwife and doctor, and everyone in town calls her Doctor. In an attempt to heal the breach caused when Mrs E eloped, her family back east offers to help put both girls through school, and Katniss returns west after graduating to become the school teacher.

Katniss meets Peeta when her stagecoach breaks down on the road along the boarder of his farm. He fixes it, and offers food to the travelers, which Katniss finds endearing since he looks like he could use a couple dollars extra, a bath, a shave, and a new shirt. She’s already curious about the kind farmer she met when she sees him again a few days later, dropping his twin daughters off for school before he heads into town for supplies.

She’s smitten within weeks but tries not to show it because she doesn’t want to have a reputation. What would the parents of her students think if she started shamelessly flirting and throwing herself at Peeta Mellark?

Peeta’s daughters suspect their Papa might be sweet on their teacher when he keeps getting tongue tied around her. They absolutely 💯 get in trouble just so that Ms Everdeen has to talk to their papa as often as possible.

Peeta is embarrassed, thinking Ms Everdeen will believe he’s an awful father, but he’s really not. Also, she doesn’t think that at all. She thinks his daughters are just desperate for motherly attention.

Primrose comes home after medical school, takes one look at them together and asks when is the wedding.

It’s about four weeks after the first time they kiss. And that’s only so her cousin Gale can be present to give her away.

[chelseypprimrose]

Farmer Wants a Mistress / farmer!negan x richbrat!reader / 18+ / AU

Summary: Living the good life since you married into money, you’ve become desensitised to the more simple ‘live off the land’ lifestyle of your sister. Her husband Negan sets out to teach a harsh lesson for you not to be so judgemental.

Warnings: infidelity, brat!reader, smut, rough sex elements, use of “hayseed hick” which are derogatory terms for a farmer, degrading terms, outside/forest sex, spitting, choking, negan is a warning in its self, mean!negan, slapping, dumbification (slightly), oral (male receiving), slight hint of dacryphilia

A/N: i need sedating, this GIF, oh my good LORD. fyi, i do not condone anyone looking down on another person for their profession/how much they work or earn, this is purely fiction and the needed attitude for the brat character/reader! also i’m telling you now, reader is a BRAT, like ‘Wild Child’ Poppy Moore level of brat, if that isn’t your thing, this probably isn’t the fic for you! 🤍

“god, i don’t know why i even let you drag me here, we are in the middle of nowhere.” you huffed, using the inflight magazine you’d taken from the flight to fan yourself off, unaccustomed to the sweltering heat of texas this time of year. your sister’s grip of the steering wheel got tighter, trying to hold her tongue at your obvious annoyance.

“i’m so sorry it’s such a inconvenience for you to visit your only sister, which by the way, you only do once a year.” she sniped back, rolling her eyes. adjusting your sunglasses on your nose, you stared out at the crop farmlands as you drove past, a vast difference to the city skyscrapers you were used to back home. “look, i’m just not the biggest fan of farms, or farm animals. they smell and it’s just too much work! why you ever let yourself marry into this, i’ll never understand.” you quipped back, throwing the magazine down into your lap as it wasn’t doing anything to help your rising body temperature.

like she had said, you only ever made the journey from new york to texas once a year to visit your sisters side of the family, granted it was only the two of them. her and her farmer husband, Negan, born into a farmer family himself, he’d taken over the land once his parents had moved on, settling for a smaller place, unable to keep working due to age. him and your sister had married a year after you and your own husband had, the two men couldn’t have been more different if they tried.

your own husband was a banker, giving you a penthouse apartment, what seemed like a unlimited supply of money and multiple trips away every year to the most luxurious resorts and locations. growing up poor and then overnight having more money than you knew what to do with had changed you, you wouldn’t deny that.

you couldn’t remember the last time you had bought anything that wasn’t designer, having your hair done monthly and various spa weekends, keeping yourself in tip top condition. you and her led very separate and different lives, you couldn’t help but feel like she’d got the short end of the deal, slaving away on a godawful ranch seven days a week.

she finally pulled up to the front of the farm, the slightly open window forcing you to smell the various animals that were loitering around outside of the barn next to the rustic-styled house. the exposed white wood of the front porch, multi-coloured chicken wind chime made of bamboo hung off the plinth of the patio, making small clinking noises from the slight wind that gathered up the dust of the grain. all these elements together started to remind you that you were far from your own home comforts of proper electricity and pleasant smells.

you opened your door, being careful not to step in the mud that was right under your feet, your stiletto heel digging into the soft ground. walking around to the back of the car, you opened the trunk, taking out your louis vuitton suitcase, stopping in your tracks when you realised you didn’t want to put it on the muddy ground. “have you got something you can take these in on?” you questioned, your sister looking at you in disbelief.

“jesus christ doll, it’s goddamn mud! it’ll wash off, don’t get your panties in a twist.” you whipped your head around to the bellowing deep voice, eyes setting on him as he made his way over to the car. you moved one of your hands off the handle of the suitcase to your hip to jaunt it out at him. “oh i’m sorry! let me just put my bag, that’s probably worth more than your house, on the dirty ground. i take pride in my possessions Negan.” you retorted, your sister sighing in defeat, taking the bag from your hand and walking with it towards the house. you took your sunglasses off your face, Negan now stood right next to you, his arm leaning on the side of the car, looking at you. dressed in his usual brown cowboy hat, opened mustard yellow flannel shirt with a slightly off white tank top underneath, cargo trousers with a thick black belt to keep them up. the long, black leather pendant sitting just above his naval.

“i always love when the city mouse comes to visit, you ready for a week in hell, princess?” he laughed, rolling around a toothpick between his pearly white teeth. not that you had anything against the man before he married your sister but he absolutely revelled in mocking you whenever you came to stay, you imagined he saw you nothing more than a spoiled little girl, not understanding that you just preferred the finer things, even if you were a bit of a snob when it came to his way of life. not that you really cared for his opinion on you. you’d imagine that if circumstances had been different, you would have been attracted to such a handsome man, if only he’d change that usual cowboy get up for a nice three piece suit.

“if it isn’t the hayseed hick himself, how are you darling?” you threw your insults right back at him, this was just how you communicated with each other, both of you had tongues as sharp as swords. you grabbed your other bag from inside the trunk of the car, moving to take it to the house before his large hand grasped over yours that was on the leather handle. “let me take it, wouldn’t want you to break a nail, princess.” Negan laughed, before using his other hand to close the trunk firmly, causing you to jump slightly out of its way. you followed closely behind him, Negan taking wide strides, his hips moving slightly as his forearm muscles tensed from the weight of your bag in his hand.

“did you pack for the month or something? jesus christ.” he managed to huff out, even with how strong he was, it felt like you’d put rocks in your bag. “not all of us can just take a toothbrush and clean boxers on holiday with us, Negan. not that you’d know much about that, furthest you ever go is the farmers market, is it not?” you bit back, using your hands to push your hair back out of your face, having to put your sunglasses back over your eyes to avoid the harsh dust from getting into your retinas. you pushed past him, walking up the steps to enter the house, a small grimace on your face as you remembered how much your sisters place looked like Dorothy’s house from the Wizard of Oz.

it was honestly like you’d gone through a time machine back to the 1900’s, your sister didn’t even have a TV in the place, no wi-fi or good working signal. Negan followed up behind you, almost denting your case with how harshly he’d placed it near the staircase. “jeez, be careful with that would you!” you exclaimed, picking it back up off the ground, starting to make your way up the stairs, heels making it a difficult feat. Negan started to laugh at you struggling, causing you to turn around to give him a death glare. “i’m glad this is funny to you, most men would be gentlemanly and help a lady with her bags.”

“i would doll, but i don’t see a lady here.” he continued laughing at you, your mouth dropped wide at his rude statement, slightly growling you stomped the rest of the way up the stairs to your assigned room you always stayed in when you came here. god, you couldn’t wait for this week to be over but it was only the start.

“god honey, i know you don’t like the way they do things but this is your sister! she’s family, you have to respect their lifestyle. you are a guest in their house.” you rolled your eyes, your husband clearly wasn’t getting how annoyed and stressed out you were. “i’m honestly trying! you come here and get woken up by a damn cockerel at five am in the morning and see if your still saying the same thing then!” you crossed your arms over your chest with your phone held up to your ear, angrily pacing back and forth on the porch, the only place you could get one bar of signal. it was no use telling your husband the grievances as he’d only been here once and he always seemed to forget how hellish that week had been for him, how he sighed a breath of relief once you got on the plane home.

“you’ve only got a couple more days until you’ll be back here with me, i’ll set you up a appointment with the spa, give you some time to relax, okay?” you smiled, almost jumping with glee. “oh thank you! god knows i’ll need it after being around all these horrid animals.”

“goddamn it!” you turned your head towards a very angry Negan, the hosepipe he’d been using had sprayed all over the front of his clothes, causing the wet fabric to stick against his abdomen. he grabbed the bottom, whipping it over his head, using his strong hands to wring the water from the top. the veins in his arm were in full motion, you could see his muscles flexing, his toned abdomen now on display. the light of the sun caught his frame just right, the hot temperature making the light sheen of sweat mix with the water he’d just got all over his torso. you couldn’t take your eyes off his body, like a mirage in the desert. you’d never found yourself looking at him this way, his dirty mouth turning you off him from the very second he opened it but silent like this, he was a vision.

he could feel a pair of eyes on him, his gaze shooting up to look towards you. “honey? honey? are you still there?” you snapped back into reality, letting out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding in your throat. you turned your back to Negan with a quickness, heat reaching your cheeks as you realised you’d been caught gazing at him. “yeah, i’m here.” you answered your husband.

Negan softly chuckled to himself, already coming up with a rolodex of new material to tease you with.

two days, two days was all you had left to endure before you could take your leave and go back to new york. while you’d like to say you’d had a pleasant experience, that would be far from the truth. your sister had convinced you to do some grunt work while you’d been here and out of sheer boredom due to the lack of entertainment here, you’d begrudgingly agreed.

this had resulted in being bitten by a chicken when trying to retrieve its eggs, causing Negan to nearly die with laughter as you yelped out, a small trail of blood seeping from your finger. he’d took your delicate hand in his rough one to assess the damage, claiming you were being a big baby about it, giving a small kiss to it which made you freeze up at his inappropriate action. you felt it was more just to make you feel more embarrassed, knowing he loved to do things to antagonise you even further. you’d yanked your hand out of his, giving a small noise of disgust before stomping away from him to get a plaster.

you’d been given the more easy task of brushing the horses, claiming you didn’t want to get bitten again and your sister swore the horses were completely domesticated and not prone to acts of aggression.

you’d nearly finished when you saw Negan coming over to you, that small arrogance in the way he sauntered around this place. “any more injures happen today doll?” he asked, leaning on the barn doorway, that usual toothpick in his mouth. you sighed, dropping the brush back in the tack box and crossing your arms over your chest. “no, nothing for you to make fun of me today, i’m afraid.” he pushed himself off the doorframe, taking a couple steps towards you. “come on doll, let’s go for a ride. i need to go and get more firewood from the forest, live a little. i tell you, having the wind blowing past you when you are on the back of these magnificent animals, no feeling like it in the world.” your eyebrow raised a little, you were actually considering it for a good while.

you sighed, not like you had anything better to do. “okay fine! only if you do the actual work. i don’t feel like getting my hands dirty.” you agreed, letting him walk past you to get the riding saddles and strapping them to the horse. he did it with ease, stepping up with his large boot to get his foot into the stirrup, his long leg being thrown over the horses back. he put out his arm to help pull you up on the horse behind him, you’d hadn’t realised how close your groin would have been to his back with you sitting behind him, the feeling making your body betray you with how good it felt to be so close to him.

he started at a slow pace, guiding the horse out of the open stable door, setting off for the wood that you could see vaguely in the distance at the back of the farmland. you’d been holding onto the metal bar that was at the back of the saddle before Negan let out a laugh. “hold on doll!” your face contorted into confusion before Negan gently applied pressure into the horse with his leg causing it to accelerate into a fast gallop. you slightly squealed, taking your hands off the bar and threw your arms around his torso, nearly in death grip, scared of coming off the animal with how much bouncing around you were doing. your hands linked around the front of him, you could feel the hard abdomen muscles underneath his tank top, you knew he’d done this on purpose to either annoy you or try and get you to come off the horse.

the leather underneath you kept rubbing against your core, the bouncing causing your clit to keep hitting the seat, a small wetness gathering on the material of your panties underneath your flowy dress. well, at least horse riding was good for something, you thought to yourself.

you’d finally got into the wood, Negan bringing the horse to a stop, dismounting with you still on the back, tying the reign to a small stump of a tree. “can you help me get off please?” you asked, looking down at how far you were above the ground, getting a little nervous at getting off by yourself. “move your legs to the side and jump down, don’t worry doll, i’ll catch you.” he reassured you, his arms coming out, his fingers moving in a ‘come here’ motion, that stupid grin on his face at your obvious nervousness.

you brought your right leg to the other side of the horse, your palms digging into the saddle, you made no move to jump off, slightly worried about Negan actually catching you. he huffed, grabbing you by your thighs, causing you to let out a slight scream before he pulled you off the horse, his hands sliding from your thighs, trailing up your bodies sides as you slipped down from the height.

your legs were now wide open, your feet finally meeting the ground, Negan’s hands still placed on your waist as you looked up at him. you realised he was still touching you, before you pushed his hands off you, smoothing out your dress. “thank you but i was just about to jump down myself, i didn’t need you to manhandle me, farmer boy.” you snapped, walking away from him to pet the animal. he slightly chuckled, while moving to grab the axe from the satchel that was strapped to the horse.

“sure you were, princess.”

you’d been here for around half a hour, helping Negan by putting the chunks of firewood in the bag on the back of the horse. your hands were red from gripping the wood, trying to avoid getting any splinters, causing you to be quite slow at packing it away.

“you do know, you could go a bit faster doll, we’ll be out here until nightfall if not.” you rolled your eyes at his taunting. “i don’t want any further injuries thank you.”

he growled, obviously annoyed at how unwilling you were to pick up the pace. “look, you might be able to sit around doing absolutely nothing back in your fancy palace at home but i’d rather not get my ass chomped by whatever creature could be lurking in this place, so just pick up the pace, please.” you scoffed, turning around to face him, he had the axe in both hands, his hip slightly twisted to face you. “no, you look! i don’t know what kind of impression you’ve gathered in your head of me, but.. yes i don’t do much work, yes i’d rather play the pretty housewife than go out and bend over backwards for work. if that makes me lazy, then so be it. i can’t help i have a taste for a easier way of life.”

it was now his turn to scoff at you, he threw the axe down to the ground, taking large footsteps towards you, you back yourself up against a tall tree behind you, the sharp bark of it digging into your skin a little. he towered over you before bringing his face closer to yours, his arm just above and slightly to the side of your head, resting on the tree.

“you mean your pretty little life of faking orgasms for your dear clueless husband? faking pleasure so you can continue to use him for his precious fucking money, that the easier way of life you are talking about?” he taunted, you screwed your face up in anger, how dare he?!

“excuse me? how dare you make your false assumptions about my marriage?! who do you think you are?!” you shouted out at him, taking your hands off the bark of the tree to try and push him away from you. not even moving him a inch due to his strong frame, he grabbed your wrists, forcing your hands above your head, digging them into the rough surface.

“oh give me a fucking break sweetheart, you think i didn’t notice the way you looked at me the other day. looked like a damn fucking dog in heat, you need a proper man like me to teach you some fucking manners. the way you look down at me from your ivory tower, i’ve kept the peace for your sisters sake but now i’m getting fucking tired of it, princess.”

“i don’t know what the hell you are talking about! like i’d ever look at your hillbilly ass like that, Negan, you must be joking!” you slowly laughed, truth not really following your words and he could tell. he gave a gravely laugh back, he moved his hand off your wrist, now applying more pressure with the remaining one so you couldn’t move. he moved his other under the skirt of your dress, fingertips brushing your inner thigh.

“let’s take a wager doll, if your panties ain’t fucking soaking for me right now, i’ll let you go. if they are? well, you’re going to get a lesson in basic southern hospitality from good ol’ Negan, let’s see shall we?” you tried to come up with some sort of smart mouth retort, the pure lust in his tone had you silent. his fingertips finally moving over the lace of your panties, his mouth moving to a wide grin when he did indeed find that the material was absolutely soaking wet.

“well, well, well? would you look at that?” he moved the lace to the side, now running his fingers up and down your folds, his fingertips now slick with your juices.

“don’t fucking flatter yourself, farmer boy. i just haven’t had any in months.”

the hand he used to hold your arms quickly pulled off, a slight slap to your cheek, the skin underneath turning red at the motion before he grasped your chin roughly.

“you still never fucking learn do you, you fucking slut. wet over your sisters husband, ain’t so prim and proper now, are you? now i think the only way to finally shut you up is to stuff that pretty fucking mouth with my dick, get on your fucking knees.”

his voice dark, you swallowed hard to be rid of the lump in your throat. he whipped you around so his back was now against the tree, pushing down on your shoulders to get you to your knees, his large frame now looking even more scary looking up at him. he unbuckled his belt, undoing the button of his cargos to pull out his impressively large and already hard cock.

you cried out, small tears leaving your eyes at his size, it was bigger than you’d had before and the thought of it being inside you, scared you to death while also causing your panties to get even wetter.

he laughed, grasping your hair roughly into a painful, makeshift ponytail. “keep those tears coming princess, just makes you even sexier, down there on your knees for me, now open that fucking slutty mouth, i’ve got a present for you.” he grasped the base of his dick, his fingers pulling your hair even more as he guided his cock towards your mouth. you reluctantly opened as wide as you could, the salty precum meeting your tastebuds.

“goddamn! ain’t that the prettiest sight i’ve ever seen!” Negan grunted out, his hips rocking forward to force more of his cock down your throat, the whimpers coming from you making him hiss in pleasure. your spit gathered at the base of him, getting caught in the soft hair there. he was enjoying the sight of you softly crying on your knees for him.

he kept himself buried at the back of your throat, keeping you struggling to breathe, coughing and gagging around his length, Negan throwing his head back at how good your mouth felt wrapped around him like he was. your mouth bobbed up and down against him, you tongue tracing the underside of his length, as he rolled his hips, looking down at you, savouring seeing you completely obedient to his control.

he pulled himself out of your mouth, finally letting you breathe, your throat and jaw burning with the force he’d had held you at.

he forced you up by your hair, moving you over to a large, jagged rock, your back forced against the cold surface.

“spread those pretty legs for me, slut. i want to see how wet you are for me.”

you moved your legs open for him, your feet coming to rest on the side of the rock, knees bent. Negan pulled your dress up to bunch around your torso, he yanked the top of it down, exposing your tits to the cold forest air. he grasped one in his hand, flicking your nipple, giving it a harsh slap afterwards. you yelped at the pleasurable pain of it, your breathing becoming ragged and unsteady. moving your panties to the side again as he had before, he gathered saliva and spat right on your core, the dirtiness of the action causing you to moan. giving a slap to your pussy, you whimpered at the pain that shot through your chest, head thrown back before he threw your leg over his shoulder, pulling your head back by your hair to meet his eyes.

“none of that doll, i want you to look at me while i stretch this pretty pussy out. look at it squeezing for me, begging for me.”

Negan hardened his grasp on your leg, holding on to it, he released your hair to run a finger up your pussy, your juices collecting on them as he bought them up to his mouth, sucking on them.

“you taste fucking divine princess, i’d eat this pretty little pussy all day but you don’t deserve that do you? you need putting in your place, this ain’t meant to be enjoyable for you, now is it?”

he lined up at your opening, letting no time go to waste before he entered you, filling you up to the hilt. you softly moaned when his hips snapped against yours, tightening yourself around his length, the pleasure nearly too much for you to handle. your back scraping against the uncomfortable rock, knowing you’d have cuts afterwards but you were too focused on the situation at hand.

“goddamn princess, absolutely squeezing me, this is what you wanted isn’t it. you may not respect my lifestyle but you couldn’t wait for me to teach you a fucking lesson could you?”

you could only moan, his hand that wasn’t on your leg coming down to wrap around your throat, thumb pressing down on your windpipe, restricting your breathing. it would have scared you, but in a funny way you trusted Negan to guide you through the experiment of a intoxicating mix of pain and pleasure.

his thrusts built up in not only speed but aggression as well, your body contorted into a curve as he pulled you to meet your lips in a rough kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth, biting on your lower lip as his hand still wrapped your throat. your arms gripping onto his broad shoulders, pressing down your nails into his tanned skin.

“i can feel how wet you are, you slut. come on princess, i want to feel you soak my fucking cock.”

your mind was hazy, absolutely cock-drunk from this man, never had you had such pleasure in your marriage, never realising how much the thought of being used would light such a unknown fire inside you.

“nega-negan i’m going to cum, please, can i cum?” you begged, your voice almost stopped as he rammed into you, the pressure on your throat causing your begging to come out as a broken set of words. the thought of something or someone coming along and seeing your sisters husband and you in such a precarious position made your mind run at a thousand miles a hour.

“go on you slut, come all over my cock, i wanna see those pretty eyes roll back into that empty fucking head of yours.”

that was all the permission you needed as you let yourself go, your body trembling, overwhelming pleasure as the shame of what you just allowed your sisters husband to do to you washed over your brain. it was the first time you’d ever squirted in your life, your juices dripping over Negan’s cock as he followed close behind you to his own release.

he came himself with a loud grunt, small whimper mixed in as well. “yeah, let me fill that tight pussy up, want myself dripping down your thighs for the rest of the day princess.”

he let go of your throat, you both trying to catch your breath, your task being harder than his as his choking had almost cut off your circulation. he leaned against your leg, watching as his seed started to slowly spill out of you, laughing at the sight.

“that is fucking gorgeous, look at that! have you learnt your lesson doll?” you weakly nodded, your eyes meeting his.

maybe you could stretch to a couple more visits a year.

[wildemaven]

fall apart, again : chapter one | joel miller

Pairing: Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x OFC!Genevieve

WC: 5k

Warnings: 18+ Blog; Heavy on the Angst, post-outbreak world, no specific age mentioned but reader is close in age to Joel, minor character death, Ellie and her smart mouth, leaving the rest to read at your own risk to not spoil things, reader has a name but there are zero references to her appearance/she’s a blank slate character, 2nd POV, this is way AU so can be read as Game Joel or TV Joel

A/N: I’ve been so excited and nervous for this series. I don’t have a timeline for posting with this one, just going to take my time with it. Big thank you to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for listening to me wrack my brain over this series and for being my second set of eyes!! Please go check out her new Dieter Series!!!

Series Masterlist / Playlist / Inspo Board

Next

Spring was slowly transitioning into the next season. 

Bright fragrant blooms wilting away into the dry soil from where they were born— a poetic reminder of the time. 

21 Summers. 

21 years of surviving. 

Enduring. 

Remembering—  the normal life before the outbreak that you mourn daily. 

A giant Bur Oak lends itself to you, branches providing ample shade as you sit resting against its sturdy trunk, the ground cool beneath where you sit. 

The harsh sunlight filters through the tree’s canopy, a warm dapple light speckled all around you. 

There’s a gentle flicker to your left that catches your attention, a single light-ray hits the small diamond on your dainty gold band where it sits heavy on your ring finger. You hold your hand up, remembering back to when you both had found it, he had immediately dropped to his knee— it wasn’t much, but it was perfect. 

“I give you this ring as a reminder that we face this world together. We’re an unbreakable team.”

Even after all these years and the circumstances of the world around you, it’s a vow you stand by. 

Branches above rustle and crack as a breeze sweeps through, the edges of the paper that is resting on a book in your lap fold over with each small gust, drawing your attention back to the words you’ve written. 

…We passed what looked like it was a small farm at one point. It made me yearn for normalcy. Where we could settle into the small farmhouse, drink our morning coffee on the wraparound porch while we watch the sun rise. Have all the animals that would give a homestead atmosphere. A coup of chickens where we would gather eggs daily, a flock of sheep and goats for milk, and a small herd of cows— because what’s a farm without some cows I can give silly names to. 

We’d raise a family in that farmhouse— lots of babies running around to wrangle. Breakfast of pancakes and fresh eggs, all of us together around our table, then tucking them all in at night after we’ve read them several stories. 

We’d lay in each other’s arms as the crickets sing their chirping songs. A breeze washing over us through the open windows, the evening air lighter and crisp as the night fades and our worn bodies succumb to sleep. 

There wouldn’t be heartache or sadness. No fighting or stressing over jobs. We’d be happy. We’d be together… 

“Eve! Let’s get goin’— we only got a few more hours of light left. Should be at the cabin before sundown.” The thick Texas twang breaks through your thoughts. 

Steve standing off in the distance, his blonde hair disheveled and wind blown as he looks back to where you’re tucked under the tree. 

He’s handsome in his own right, not someone you would have ever found yourself with in different circumstances, but now you wouldn’t know how to function without him. 

A chance meeting the day of the outbreak had brought the two of you together. 

You were working as a traveling nurse at a hospital 4 hours from where you lived, instantly going into crisis mode as lead of the trauma response team, the ER quickly overwhelmed with patients seeking treatment for bites or flu-like symptoms— it was unlike anything you had ever seen before in all your years as a nurse. 

Steve, a retired detective, was on vacation with his wife visiting a friend before the initial outbreak happened. The morning of, he’d gone on a duck hunting trip, while his wife went to breakfast with some girlfriends at a local Waffle House. He had brought her into your ER when he noticed she was acting strangely, similar to the symptoms the news was reporting as a widespread epidemic. Her outcome was not hopeful as you did your best to administer vials of antibiotics and fluids, the infection moving through her was beyond anything you could treat. 

It was Steve who made the call to abandon his wife and the hospital and the realization hit fairly quickly that there was less you could actually do to help others. 

Fleeing the area, seeking solace in one another as you both navigated through quarantine zones— searching for familiarity in your former hometown, only to be met with decimation and nothingness. 

Steve’s way around a gun helped keep you safe when evading FEDRA, the nursing kit you put together came in handy when stitching him up between shootouts and fighting off the infected— this was now your new normal. 

As the years progressed, you both found contentment with each other. Security gave way to a sense of comfort and revival, falling into a deeper connection beyond two people surviving a post outbreak apocalypse— if you were going to be in each other’s lives, you might as well be fully committed. 

“Eve! Pack your shit up— let’s go!” He spits out a little harsher, no real malice behind his tone— he likes to stick to his schedule. 

You don't respond, folding your letter carefully then tucking all of  your items into your canvas pack.  Standing to your full height, you give your legs a minute to let the blood reacquaint fully, your hands brushing the bits of dust and weeds from your pants. 

You hear Steve continue his huffing, as you make your way closer to where he’s standing. 

“I thought I told you to knock it off with those pointless letters!” He gruffs, hands secure at his hips and his head cocked to the side, hoping to catch your gaze. 

Your letters. They had become a loose journal, your stream of thoughts you needed to get out so you were not plagued by the pain and anxiety that came with them whirling around your brain. 

Letters to your past, letters to a new life that awaits you and sometimes to no one at all— you wrote about your travels, things you missed or longed for now, hope for the future. 

They were too much to keep, pages and pages filled with your words and stories, some containing memories too painful to read or share, a weight you didn’t want to carry, so you scattered them throughout your travels. In the last 21 years, you’ve written hundreds of them, dropping them in abandoned mailboxes, or tucked away in the abandoned spaces you’d settled into in passing, as if to send them to whomever you were writing to— leaving a trail of your life across cities and states. 

“And I thought I told you to stop calling me Eve— guess we don’t always get what we want?” You had asked him multiple times over the years to not call you Eve, that was your former life and you hated the reminder, but you know he doesn’t do it out of spite. 

The gravel crunches under your boots as you walk past, not looking to argue with him in the heat of the sun. 

Steve’s hand reaches out clasping around yours, halting your movements, his eyes fixed on you, furrowed brows as if he wants to say something. 

“Hey— Ya know I love you, right?” He sighs, his fingers toying with the gold band on your ring finger. 

You look to where your hands are joined, the twisting of the gold band a small gesture of his when things get tough or tense, you smile when you meet his gaze again. 

“I know.” You do know, and you feel it too. “Come on, we’ve only got a few hours of light left.” He shakes his head, but gives you a smile at the way you throw his comment back at him. 

*

It had been close to 2 hours of walking, nearly dark, by the time you both made it to the cabin, nestled among dozens of other abandoned cabins on the hillside of an old ski resort. 

You imagine it was a popular spot in its prime, filled with families taking their kids on their first snow trips, friends racing each other down the slopes, non-skiers enjoying warm beverages in the lodge while everyone else enjoyed the snowy weather. 

Now desolate and forgotten, a stop for raiders on the hunt for supplies and hostages or survivors seeking refuge in search of a town just north of here, Jackson. 

Steve had managed to trade for a hand-held CB radio early on, he kept tabs on chatter that happened among FEDRA, staying one step ahead of their whereabouts. At some point he had stumbled upon private channels used by other survivors, he didn’t talk much about what they discussed with you, it was his realm of expertise and a small thing that was just his, so you didn’t push him to share more than what he was willing to. 

It was a year ago he had connected with someone and heard about Jackson. There was an offer for a place for a fresh start, a community of other survivors, somewhere to feel safe and comfortable without fear of being attacked, placed in solitary confinement, killed— or infected. Steve decided it was where you both were meant to be, hashing out a plan and specific route on his tattered map, making sure to stay in constant contact with this person in Jackson as you both traveled. 

Venturing further into the resort, you both settled on the lesser marred of the dilapidated cabins.

“I’m gonna check the perimeter, you go on inside— check each room first, I’ll be right in. But remember, if I’m not back in ten minutes, you don’t come looking for me— you wait until morning and you head over that mountain, under no circumstances do you leave that cabin before sunrise.” Steve instructed, his hands on your shoulders reassuring the doubt he can see written all over your face. 

“Steve— W-what if, there’s something inside—“ Your voice is barely a whisper, nervousness creeping in as your hands grip onto Steve’s wrists that have moved to cup your face, his thumbs smoothing across the apples of your cheeks. 

“We’ve done this a million times before, I know you can do it— I wouldn’t send you in there if I didn’t think you were capable, you’ll be fine. Just think, this is the last time we have to do this. Then it’s you and me, in Jackson, together and safe— ‘kay?” His direct eye contact really drives home the message— together and safe.

“Okay.”

“I love you, go be brave.” Romantic and encouraging as he presses a kiss to your forehead. 

“I love you— be safe, please.” 

“Always.” He shoots a wink with his mustached smile, a few slow steps backwards then turning to make his way up the backside of the cabin, pulling the butt of his rifle close to his chest, hunched and scanning every inch of the surrounding area. 

The cabin would seem warm and inviting if the possibility of a Clicker behind the door wasn’t a high probability. 

Armed with the knife Steve insisted you keep on you at all times, your refusal at his request for you to carry a gun, you make your way up the front steps. 

Each move was slow and calculated, the wood beneath your boots wobbled and creaked the closer you got to the front door. The handle is cold to the touch as you twist it open, pushing the door with a little extra effort to unstick it from the doorframe. 

It’s dark and musty, uninhabited by the living and anything beyond that at first glance. Dust and cobwebs cover every surface, pictures still mounted on the walls slightly hanging uneven. A floral couch with two side chairs still arranged in an inviting way, waiting to be enjoyed during a long conversation. The kitchen was small but large enough that it still would have been possible to whip up a hearty meal over the stove, then gather at the tiny table to enjoy the meal and dessert. 

You’re grateful the floor plan is an open space, no immediate threat to you upon entering. 

There’s only two doors, which you assume hide a bathroom and a bedroom. 

The first door reveals nothing but a sink, toilet and shower-tub combo— you’re looking forward to a hot shower when you get to Jackson. 

You stare at the closed remaining door, the handle of the knife twisting in your hand as you prepare yourself, not really feeling like you have it in you to take out anything that might be waiting for you on the other side. 

A deep breath in, reaching for the the handle you give it a quick jiggle announcing your presence, twist and a quick swing open— a queen size bed draped in outdated sheets, bedside tables with lamps covered in a layer of dust, a dresser opposite the bed with a giant mirror hanging above it. 

Empty. 

Relief washing away the dread. 

Stepping into the room, you toss your pack and knife onto the dresser before finding a seat at the end of the bed, the mattress shifting under you, the springs groan as you settle into a comfortable spot. 

You’re not sure how much time has passed since you entered the house, noting it’s been a while since you had heard or seen anything from Steve, but knowing he likes to be thorough, you’re hoping he makes his way through the front door soon. 

The moon has crept into the night sky, shining through the small bedroom window, illuminating the reflection staring back at you. 

Sometimes you forget how long it’s been since you’ve seen what you really look like. While it’s you that you’re staring at in the mirror, you feel slightly unrecognizable to yourself— aged by 21 years in every sense, tired and worn down by the state of the world and lack of sleep. 

Your fingers lightly trace over your skin, taking in every detail, rediscovering every angle of your appearance— the old characteristics blending into the new ones. 

A yawn escapes you, remembering what Steve had said about not leaving, you decide to get yourself comfortable in bed and wait for him. 

Kicking your boots off, you crawl up the length of the bed, plopping your head down onto the stack of lumpy pillows, your mind wandering as you run through all the scenarios as to why Steve hasn’t returned yet, debating whether you should go take a look outside or listen and wait for morning— scared of what you might find waiting for you. 

Your eyelids begin a heavy blink, struggling to remain open and alert, your breathing evening out as your body relaxes into the mattress, sleep consuming your mind. 

Warmth surrounds you, the bed dipping and creaking pulls you from your sleep, immediate panic bursts in your chest as your eyes shoot open, your vision blurred as you seek out the movement of a shadowy figure behind you. 

“Hey, hey it’s okay— it’s just me.” 

“Steve?!” Turning your body to lay facing him, your hands fisting his shirt, scanning his face for any sign of distress or discomfort. “What took you so long?”

“I’m fine.” Placing a hand over one of yours that’s settled on his chest. “Decided to wait a bit, just to be sure nothin’ was out there— I’m sorry.” His hand moves to the base of your neck, his forehead resting against yours.

“S’okay.”

“No— I’m sorry for callin’ your letters pointless earlier. I know how much they mean to you.  I just—“ He releases a heavy sigh, voice quivering as he avoids eye contact with you. 

“What— what’s the matter?” You sense there’s something Steve’s not telling you. 

“Nothin’s the matter. I just worry about what’s goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours— you shut down on me and I just wish you’d let me help you carry the burden.” His gaze moves back to yours. “Promise me, when we get to Jackson, you don’t let your thoughts weigh you down any longer— promise me you’ll let yourself be happy there.”

“I p-promise.” You say, brushing the blonde strands of hair off of his forehead. “I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier.”

“Nah, I was pushin’ your buttons— I deserved it.” You both laugh at his response. 

Steve leans into your space, his lips slotting over yours, it’s angled and slow, his grip on your neck still steady as the kiss begins to deepen. Throwing your leg over his hip, canting against the sturdiness of his thigh, seeking out some sort of friction to relieve the building ache between your legs. 

But before things are about progress, Steve’s pulling away from your mouth, slowing the roll of your hips with his hand. 

“We should get some sleep— we’ve got close to a 3, maybe 4 hour walk tomorrow, we need to get all the rest we can get.”

“Y-yeah, of course.” Your response is breathy, a slight pang in your chest at his soft rejection, questioning whether you had been too harsh towards him earlier in the day— but your body could use the rest. 

Adjusting yourself, you turn away from Steve, his large arm wrapping around and pulling you closer to him. Your back now against his firm chest, each one of your tense muscles slowly relaxing into him and his warmth. 

Thoughts of a new start in Jackson flood your mind as you drift off into a deep sleep. A chance at a better life, where Steve and you can settle into normalcy together. Retire from the constant fear and panic of daily survival out in the open. The taste of prosperity and the sense of peace, an almost tangible reality for the two of you. 

Steve senses sleep has set in for you, the ease of your regulated breathing paired with your gentle snores. He nestles himself into the crook of your neck, his fingers instinctively migrate to your ring smoothing over the cool metal, his thick whiskers tickle lightly at your skin as he whispers reserved confessions into the balmy. A gentle kiss to your shoulder before allowing himself to fully breathe easy, deciding to keep a watchful eye throughout the night. 

“You’ll be happier Genevieve, I promise.”

*

The sun is in its full glory once you both set out on the last stretch of your journey over the mountain.

Steve had been rather short with you all morning, you chalked it up to his tossing and turning all night, his eyes bloodshot, evident in lacking sleep— he had promised everything was fine, so you believed him. 

“How much longer do you think we have?” Not really knowing what to talk about with the uneasiness that’s been going on all morning. 

“I don’t know, Eve— they guy said it was about a 3 hour walk from the resort. We’ve been walking close to 2 and a half, so we’re probably close.”

“Please don’t call me—“

“Jesus Christ Genevieve! I’m fucking sorry! But you don’t make it easy for me sometimes— I feel like I’m always at a fucking arms length away from you even after 21 fucking years.” Anger shoots from his mouth like bullets, you’re not sure you’ve ever seen him like this, at least never towards you. “It’s a goddamn name! Gen, Eve, Genevieve— they’re all the fucking same!” 

“I-I’m sorry.” Tears prick at your eyes, you try your best to not let them fall— you’ll save them for when you’re alone in the safety of your new home. 

“Fuck! No, I’m sorry— shit! C’mere.”

Steve pulls you into him, his face hot against your cheek as he holds you close, the button down he’s wearing is drenched in sweat, there’s a slight tremble to the grip he has on you. 

“Are you okay?” You pull back to get a better look at him, beads of sweat glisten across his forehead, his cheeks flushed a bright red. 

“Yeah, just really fucking tired.” 

*CLICK*

“Hands where we can see them! Slowly, no fast movements!” A woman’s voice echoes through the air. 

Steve releases you from his arms, both of you slowly turning, arms raised up as you were told. 

There’s 5 of them, all on horses with their guns drawn in your direction. The woman seems to be in charge of the group, her horse placed a few feet in front of the others.

“We don’t mean no harm, we’re just trying to get to the settlement just over this mountain. You must be Maria? I was told you might greet us before we got there.” Steve says, keeping his tone even as explains himself. 

“Am I supposed to know who you are?” She asks, her expression still unreadable as she waits for Steve to respond. 

“No— you don’t, but I was told you would bring us the rest of the way in.” 

Maria takes a minute to decide whether she wants to believe Steve or not. 

“Scan them.” Looking back at one of the men behind her, nodding to where Steve and you are still standing with your arms raised. “I don’t care who you talked to, you get scanned before you come in.” 

The man grabs a device from his saddle pack, then makes his way towards you, the other 3 men’s guns still aimed, fingers hovering over their triggers. 

“Lady’s first.” The man states, placing the device on your neck, there’s a small zap to your skin when the scan is administered. 

“Green!” He shouts, holding the device up to show the green screen in Maria’s direction. 

You breathe a sigh of relief, even though you knew you were fine. 

Turning towards Steve, the man places the scanner on Steve’s neck, Steve’s eyes locking with yours as the man presses the designated button to conduct the virus scan. 

The man steps back quickly, a flash of red catches your attention. 

“RED!” He holds the device up. 

The other men direct their aim to Steve, his head hanging low and no sign of resistance to finding out he’s infected. 

“Steve! No— Tell them you’re not infected!” Insisting he speak up. “He’s not infected! Scan him again! Please!” You scream at the group, your voice straining as you plead with them to scan Steve again, convinced it was a bad read. 

“Please!! Scan him—“

“Genevieve— it’s not wrong.” Steve says. 

You turn to him, chest heaving and your throat burning from yelling, confused by what he’s saying.

“What? What do you mean it’s not wrong? You’re not infected Steve— you’re just tired, they need to scan you again!”

“I was bit.” 

You can feel the blood drain from your face as the words leave his mouth. Your brain takes a moment to register what he had said. 

Bit. 

Infected. 

“No— no! No, no no!”

“Genevieve—“

“W-when?”

“Last night, there was a runner that came out of one of the other cabins—“

Steve’s confession hits you like a ton of bricks in slow motion. You hate it and don’t want to believe a single thing he’s saying, because the reality is that this is where it ends for him— for you. 

The tears burn as they begin to stream down your face. 

“You didn’t say anything though—“

“I needed to get you here— I needed you to be safe.”

Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, throwing yourself at him, anchoring your arms around his neck. 

“No! I can’t do this without you— I can’t lose you too!” 

“Yes, you can. You’re the bravest person I’ve known in a long time. You’re going to get there and you’re going to meet new people and you will be able to help out because that’s what you love— you love helping people and I love that about you. This is your chance to start over, to be happy— do that for me?” His hands cup your face so he can look at you, his eyes filled with tears as well. “Do me a favor, write me one of your letters— I want to know everything.”

You nod, unable to speak, the lump in your throat growing as your remaining time together dwindles away. 

“I love you, Genevieve.” His words muffled against your skin, leaving one last kiss on your forehead. 

“I love you, too.” You breathe out, your eyes closed savoring his soft touch one last time. 

“How long?” Maria asks Steve.

“Probably ‘nother hour left, give or take.”

“Alright Genevieve— you’re riding with me, hand your pack to one of my men. Andrew, you hang back with Steve— you know what to do.” Maria orders everyone. 

Wiping your tears before placing a kiss to Steve’s cheek, then turning to where Maria is waiting for you, handing your pack to one of her men. Maria leans down to grab onto your arm, as you hoist yourself up onto the backside of the horse. 

“Let’s head back.” Maria says, pulling the reins up and to one side to signal the horse to turn around, a click of her tongue has the horse moving forward in the direction of the settlement. 

You can’t bear to look back in Steve’s direction, not trusting yourself to not run back to him. 

Leaving him and knowing his fate is like reliving the same pain you endured 21 years ago. The outbreak takes everything from you for a second time. 

Your world shatters, crumbling as the horse carries you further and further from him. 

*BANG*

The sound ricochets out over the valley, your heart sinks as a new wave of tears silently fall. 

*

You don’t remember the entire ride to the settlement or how you ended up on the porch of a two story house. 

Maria had mentioned putting you up in her brother-in-law's converted garage, a small studio bedroom where those new to the settlement would stay while their permanent residence were being cleaned and prepped. She said it wasn’t anything special and you’d have to use the main houses kitchen and bathroom, but you’d have your own space in a few days— so interacting with a few strangers was the least you could do for the hospitality. 

You honestly didn’t care where she put you for the time being, the stables would have been enough, you just wanted to be alone. 

Glancing over your shoulder you see others moving about freely, children running about in the open, a stark contrast between what you had been so used to. 

There’s rows and rows of homes, a small town-like area, a community garden— this place was everything that Steve had described to you, he would have loved it. 

The opening of the front door pulls you back to the front porch where you’re standing with Maria. 

“We’ve got a newcomer, she’s going to stay here until we get a room ready down the street.” Maria explained to the young girl who is glaring at you. 

“Why do you keep bringing them here? This isn’t a shelter— can’t she stay somewhere else?”

“No, she can’t. This is Ellie, her bark is worse than her bite— she’ll grow on you. Ellie, this is Genevieve let’s let her get comfortable and situated— she just lost whom I’m assuming was her husband, so please make her feel welcomed.” Maria coerses Ellie into letting you stay, but you don’t miss the eye rolling throw your way. 

The home is spacious and inviting, you decide it’s far more comfortable than the stables would have been. 

“Ellie, can you grab Genevieve a glass of water please.” It’s more of a demand than an ask. “Here Genevieve, have a seat here at the table. I’m sure Ellie can make you something to eat if you’re hungry too.”

“So now we’re a shelter and we have room service? Her legs don’t seem broken to me—.” 

“Ellie, glass of water!”

The girl grunts something under her breath as she follows through with getting you water, you settle into a chair and try to not let the unwelcome feeling that’s been looming over you since you set foot in the house add to the pain that is still radiating through you. 

You wipe a few tears you hadn’t realized had fallen, a new wave of emotions hitting you, another moment of realization of Steve not being here with you like you had both talked about. 

“Is there anything else I can get you Genevieve?” Maria cautiously places a hand on your shoulder, you take it as her way of apologizing for your loss. 

“Umm, just my bag would be great and a shower would be nice.” You sniffle, ready to lock yourself away for the day, not wanting to be forced to have unwanted conversations with a teenager who already hates your new presence. 

“I’ll go grab your bag from the stables, then you can start getting settled.” She gives your shoulder a light squeeze before turning for the front door. “Ellie, be nice.”

A glass of water is placed in front of you, a few cubes of ice float around the clear liquid. You don’t even remember the last time you had enjoyed an ice cold drink. 

Ellie situates herself in the chair across from you, looking as if she wants to say something. 

“So— your husband is dead?” 14 years old and a great conversationalist. 

“No— y-yes.” Your chest aches at the mention of ‘your husband.’

“Well, that’s not confusing. So, did you watch him die?”

“Hmm?” 

“Your husband, did you watch your husband die?” She asks again. 

“N-no.”

“I’m all out of questions then.” She slinks back into her chair. 

You stare at the ice, almost half the size it was when it was placed in front of you. Wishing you could slowly melt away, become the nothingness you feel like. 

The front door swings open and closes with a gentle click, the clunking sound of boots makes the presence of whoever stepped into the house known. 

“Hey kid, sorry I’m late. Tommy wanted to get drinks after our patrol.” 

A deep husky voice permeates the room, its thick syrupy tone seeps into every little crevice of your memory, its familiarity prompting the goosebumps to form across your body. 

“I didn’t know we were having guests— this a new friend of yours?” He asks, his foot step getting closer to where you're still seated at the table, your back turned to him. 

“Fuck no! It’s one of Maria’s strays. Said she has to stay here until her room is available— which is bullshit if you ask me!” She spouts off, her annoyance very apparent. 

“Ellie, manners!” He grits out. 

You lift yourself from the chair, steadying your weak state on the table and chair as you turn in his direction. 

Your heart nearly stops the moment your eyes land on him— a ruggedness to him, his soft brown eyes filled with a darkness that comes with loss and sorrow, his dark locks and beard sprinkled with tuffs of gray, an overall hardness about him that hides his true self. 

“Joel?” Your eyes wide and filled with more tears, the name is barely a whisper as it falls into the air. 

“Eve?” A name he never thought he would say again. 

[mariacallous]

While solar power is growing at an extremely rapid clip, in absolute terms, the use of natural gas for electricity production has continued to outpace renewables. But that looks set to change in 2024, as the US Energy Information Agency (EIA) has run the numbers on the first half of the year and found that wind, solar, and batteries were each installed at a pace that dwarfs new natural gas generators. And the gap is expected to get dramatically larger before the year is over.

Solar, Batteries Booming

According to the EIA's numbers, about 20 gigawatts of new capacity was added in the first half of this year, and solar accounts for 60 percent of it. Over a third of the solar additions occurred in just two states, Texas and Florida. There were two projects that went live that were rated at over 600 megawatts of capacity, one in Texas, the other in Nevada.

Next up is batteries: The US saw 4.2 additional gigawatts of battery capacity during this period, meaning over 20 percent of the total new capacity. (Batteries are treated as the equivalent of a generating source by the EIA since they can dispatch electricity to the grid on demand, even if they can't do so continuously.) Texas and California alone accounted for over 60 percent of these additions; throw in Arizona and Nevada, and you're at 93 percent of the installed capacity.

The clear pattern here is that batteries are going where the solar is, allowing the power generated during the peak of the day to be used to meet demand after the sun sets. This will help existing solar plants avoid curtailing power production during the lower-demand periods in the spring and fall. In turn, this will improve the economic case for installing additional solar in states where its production can already regularly exceed demand.

Wind power, by contrast, is running at a more sedate pace, with only 2.5 GW of new capacity during the first six months of 2024. And for likely the last time this decade, additional nuclear power was placed on the grid, at the fourth 1.1-GW reactor (and second recent build) at the Vogtle site in Georgia. The only other additions came from natural-gas-powered facilities, but these totaled just 400 MW, or just 2 percent of total new capacity.

The EIA has also projected capacity additions out to the end of 2024 based on what's in the works, and the overall shape of things doesn't change much. However, the pace of installation goes up as developers rush to get their project operational within the current tax year. The EIA expects a bit over 60 GW of new capacity to be installed by the end of the year, with 37 GW of that coming in the form of solar power. Battery growth continues at a torrid pace, with 15 GW expected, or roughly a quarter of the total capacity additions for the year.

Wind will account for 7.1 GW of new capacity, and natural gas 2.6 GW. Throw in the contribution from nuclear, and 96 percent of the capacity additions of 2024 are expected to operate without any carbon emissions. Even if you choose to ignore the battery additions, the fraction of carbon-emitting capacity added remains extremely small, at only 6 percent.

Gradual Shifts on the Grid

Obviously, these numbers represent the peak production of these sources. Over a year, solar produces at about 25 percent of its rated capacity in the US, and wind at about 35 percent. The former number will likely decrease over time as solar becomes inexpensive enough to make economic sense in places that don't receive as much sunshine. By contrast, wind's capacity factor may increase as more offshore wind farms get completed. For natural gas, many of the newer plants are being designed to operate erratically so that they can provide power when renewables are underproducing.

A clearer sense of what's happening comes from looking at the generating sources that are being retired. The US saw 5.1 GW of capacity drop off the grid in the first half of 2024, and aside from 0.2 GW of “other,” all of it was fossil-fuel-powered, including 2.1 GW of coal capacity and 2.7 GW of natural gas. The latter includes a large 1.4-GW natural gas plant in Massachusetts.

But total retirements are expected to be just 7.5 GW this year—less than was retired in the first half of 2023. That's likely because the US saw electricity use rise by 5 percent in the first half of 2024, based on numbers the EIA released on Friday. (Note that this link will take you to more recent data a month from now.) It's unclear how much of that was due to weather—a lot of the country saw heat that likely boosted demand for air-conditioning—and how much could be accounted for by rising use in data centers and for the electrification of transit and appliances.

That data release includes details on where the US got its electricity during the first half of 2024. The changes aren't dramatic compared to where they were when we looked at things last month. Still, what has changed over the past month is good news for renewables. In May, wind and solar production were up 8.4 percent compared to the same period the year before. By June, they were up by over 12 percent.

Given the EIA's expectations for the rest of the year, the key question is likely to be whether the pace of new solar installations is going to be enough to offset the drop in production that will occur as the US shifts to the winter months.

[originalcrime]

prompt: irony

thanks!

Thank you for the prompt remindmeofthe! No recollection of whether Eddie’s relationship with horses has ever come up on the show, so don’t take this too seriously if it completely contradicts canon please!

It turns out Eddie Diaz, son of Texas, has never actually ridden a horse. He was too busy as a kid—he had sisters to watch out for, and a mother to take care of, and male classmates to pretend he wasn’t crushing on—and then there was Shannon, and Christopher, and the military, and working three jobs, and L.A.

Evan “did you know I worked on a dude ranch once?” Buckley deems this unacceptable. Luckily, Tommy’s got some queer friends who own a farm a few hours outside of the city, and they’ve got horses, so. Giddy-up, Cowboy Diaz!

It’s not until Eddie is being instructed to pat a white mare named Bianca that he realizes—he’s got a healthy fear of horses. But Tommy and Buck are both really good with animals and really good with Eddie—and they manage to get him up there. Eddie winds up having a pretty good time, but if he’s going to ride, he’d honestly rather it be one of his boyfriends.

Send me a short prompt and I’ll write a few sentences of Buddietommy headcanons.

[miss-bushido]

kiss me, underneath the moonlight

Eddie and Steve are on their third date at a local farm, when the rain starts.

Written for @softsteddieseptember week 4, prompt 'dancing in the rain'.

Rating: T Tags: Kissing, Steve Harrington has bad parents, heavy petting, making out, secret tattoos

The sky had been threatening rain all day. Dark grey clouds, lots of wind. Typical for mid to late autumn. It was a bit of a bummer because Steve had planned this third date with Eddie to take place outside. He knew enough about him now to know that Eddie was obsessed with Halloween and all things spooky. So, a date at a farm on the outskirts of Hawkins that boasted not only a pumpkin patch and a corn maze, but an outdoor set up to show movies in the late afternoon? Well, it was perfect. Eddie’s face had told him that he’d planned it well.

They had picked their pumpkins and put them in the back of Eddie’s van for safe keeping. They had gone through the corn maze- managing to find a few hiding spots to surreptitiously make out in- and they were now sitting side by side in some wooden Adirondack chairs, holding hands and sipping hot apple cider. There was a bag of warm kettle corn at Steve’s feet, and once the projector was set up, they would be watching a double feature of 80’s horror films ‘Children of the Corn’, and then ‘Near Dark’.

Eddie had been ecstatic about the whole thing, but particularly about the second movie. ‘Near Dark’ was a cult classic vampire movie, and not many people knew about it who hadn’t seen it when it was first released. At least not many people they knew. Most people their age preferred movies like ‘Saw’ or the remakes of ‘Texas Chainsaw Massacre’ and ‘Rob Zombie’s Halloween’. Not many people shared Eddie’s enthusiasm for old horror films, but, luckily, Steve was one of those people. “This was such a fun date, Stevie,” Eddie said, squeezing Steve’s hand before he took another sip of his apple cider.

“I’m glad, Eds,” Steve replied, reaching out to tuck a long lock of hair behind Eddie’s ear. The wind made his hair more wild than it normally was, and that was saying something. “The date’s not done when the movies are, either,” he couldn’t help adding, giving him a wink as he settled back into the chair.

Eddie’s eyes widened at the implication, and he gave Steve a wide cheeky grin. “When you put it like that, maybe we can just find these on Netflix later on.”

“And miss out on this experience?” Steve asked. “It’s not every day you can see a horror movie outside next to a pumpkin patch with a sexy metal head.”

“You’re really not making a case for us to stay when you talk like that, baby,” Eddie grinned, biting his lower lip.

“I guess we’ll both just have to exercise some restraint,” Steve answered, leaning forward to kiss Eddie on the lips. He licked into Eddie’s mouth, tasting the apple cider and the popcorn he’d eaten. “And restraint enters into it…if you’d like,” he whispered, licking Eddie’s bottom lip before he pulled away.

“Damn it,” Eddie muttered, exhaling heavily to get himself under control. Steve grinned and sipped his own apple cider, smiling to himself at the reaction he’d gotten at the implication.

‘Children of the Corn’ started, and he settled into his seat, ready to enjoy the rest of their date. The scenery of Nebraska rolled out on screen, cornfields and all. It reminded him of Hawkins, but then, they were both part of the Midwest, so it made sense.

On screen, the little kid Job had just received his strawberry milkshake at the diner when fat, cold raindrops began pelting them. Seconds later, it turned into a deluge. The bag of kettle corn and the drinks were abandoned as they moved quickly to try and get to the closest shelter. Unfortunately, where they were, the closest shelter was the Boo Barn, named for the children to go into and have a few kid-friendly scares, and by the time they got there, everyone else had already filled it up. The doors were closed to anyone else.

“Well, shit,” Steve commented. They were soaked to the skin, and the rain was showing no signs of stopping.

“It’s okay, Steve,” Eddie reassured him. “It’s just rain.”

Steve turned to look at him and burst out laughing. Eddie’s wild hair was now a mess: completely waterlogged. He looked like a drowned cat, which only made Steve laugh harder.

“Something in my hair?” Eddie asked, laughing as well. He reached for Steve’s hands and pulled him away from the Barn.

Steve took it upon himself to pull Eddie back into his arms and then spin him back out, almost as if they were dancing. The lyrics to a Lady Gaga song came into his mind then, and he sang-yelled:

I’d rather be dry, but at least I’m alive! Rain, rain on me

He repeated this, pulling Eddie close, pretending he was dancing with him as they made their way back to Eddie’s van, water dripping everywhere once they were seated inside. The rain was still coming down in sheets, fogging up the windshield, turning the whole world outside watery grey as it continued pouring.

Eddie looked out the window and shook his head, water from his hair flying onto the dashboard. “It’s not stopping any time soon,” he said as he got up from the driver’s seat and moved into the back of the van. He had put a thin mattress with some pillows and a few blankets back there years ago. It was handy to have a place to sleep when you were a struggling musician and couldn’t always afford a decent motel room. “I have towels back here,” he said, grabbing a red one out of a canvas bag, and beginning to wring his hair out. “They’re clean, I promise.” They had been in the bag that he’d put back there earlier in the summer when there had been plans to go to the pool. Those plans had fallen through, and he’d just never gotten around to moving them back out.

Thank you, Past Eddie for being lazy.

Steve followed Eddie into the back, grabbing a green towel to wipe himself off. He grimaced at the way his shirt was sticking to his skin. “I don’t suppose you’d have an extra shirt I could wear, do you?”

Eddie rooted through the bag, tongue out in concentration, before he pulled out a black tank top. “This is the best I can do for you,” he said. Steve reached for the tank top, but Eddie pulled it back, eyebrow raising.

“Trying to play keep-away, huh?” Steve asked, lunging forward to grab Eddie by the wrist. He pulled him flush against his body, wrapping his arms around him to hold him while they kissed. He ran his hands up Eddie’s damp back, pushing his shirt up. “Take this off,” Steve breathed, sucking Eddie’s bottom lip before he resumed kissing him.

Eddie responded by pushing Steve’s own shirt up, both of them breaking away from the other to get out of their damp clothes. Once they were both shirtless, they began kissing again in earnest, Eddie moving forward to lay on top of Steve on the blankets. “Is this okay? Is this too much?” Eddie asked, slotting his left leg between Steve’s thighs. From what he could feel, it was not too much, and seeing as how this was their third date, he assumed something would happen.

He also didn’t want to assume and be disappointed. The signs were there, though. And he still had the memory of Steve’s kiss before they got soaked to the skin.

Steve swallowed thickly. “No, it’s not too much,” he said, looking down at where Eddie was pressing into him. “Can you take these off of me?” he asked, bringing Eddie’s hands to the waistband of his jeans. Not everything he wanted to do tonight would happen in the van, but he wanted some of it. He wanted Eddie fiercely, and that need was growing by the minute.

Eddie kissed him once more and then sat up, straddling Steve’s thigh. He unbuttoned and unzipped Steve’s jeans, beginning to pull them down. They stuck a little to Steve’s skin and Eddie gave them a strong pull. As this happened, he pulled down part of Steve’s underwear on his left hip. He looked down, and immediately froze, his face going pale.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked. He glanced down at where Eddie was looking and he froze, too.

Unlike Eddie, whose tattoos adorned him in numerous visible spaces, Steve’s tattoo was hidden. It was a small crown on his left hip, just under the waistband of his jeans. Robin was with Steve when he got it: right after he was kicked out of his house when his Dad found out he was gay. Robin had taken him in immediately, and he had set up in her two-bedroom apartment with the meager belongings he’d managed to grab on his way out the door.

The problem was that Steve didn’t have access to a lot of money. Just what was in his bank account, which his father could not touch, thankfully. He had applied for numerous jobs, but wasn’t able to get much. He was starting to panic around the first of the month before he landed a job as a host at a local restaurant. The pay wasn’t much, but it was money, and he could at least give Robin his share of the rent, and buy some things he needed.

While Steve applied for other, better paying jobs online, he kept seeing people talk about their OnlyFans sites, and how much money they made. He made his own account, Hail to the King, using the pseudonym King Sexy. Robin had laughed herself sick when he told her the names, and the tattoo had followed soon after.

Steve never shared his face. Made sure he had no identifying rings or watches on when he posted his pictures. And especially not when he posted his videos. The only thing his subscribers could see was the tattoo, and they ate it up. He made a lot of money with his content, and there were more than a few accounts who made his live streams very lucrative indeed.

“Why do you have that tattoo?” Eddie asked, voice quiet as he traced the edges of the crown.

“Uh…I uh…” Steve struggled for an answer before something dawned on him. “Wait, does it…You can’t be bothered by it when you have…” he trailed off, eyes roving over Eddie’s torso and arms. If he was bothered by it, he was a major hypocrite.

“No! No, I’m not…I just….” Eddie exhaled and put his hands over his eyes. “I just didn’t realize that you were King Sexy until this moment.”

Record scratch.

“What the- You- I-”

“Yes, exactly,” Eddie answered. His shoulders were shaking, and for a second, Steve worried he was about to cry. This fear evaporated when Eddie burst out laughing, tears coming out of his eyes as he doubled over. “Oh my God, this cannot be my life!” At Steve’s confused expression, Eddie managed to say, “I’m BardsCurse666.”

A laugh of his own burst out of Steve. What were the freaking odds? One of his best customers on his account was someone he was on a third date with.

They fell over one another laughing hysterically, until they physically couldn’t anymore. Eddie was sobbing with laughter, tears rolling down his cheeks. “Oh my God, oh my God.” He sounded like he was pleading, holding his stomach.

Steve managed to get himself under control quicker, though he was still wiping his eyes as he giggled into his hand. He looked over at Eddie laid out on the blankets behind him. “Is this…Does this change anything?”

Eddie snorted. “Hell no it doesn’t change anything.” He reached for Steve’s hand. “Well, I guess the only thing that will change is that I may not be as active on the site. Since I have King Sexy all to myself.”

Steve grinned wickedly and crawled over to him, looming over Eddie’s body. “You certainly do. Let me know if you want to be part of things in the future.”

Eddie groaned and pulled Steve down for a blistering kiss. “There’s enough time to talk about that later.”

“Indeed,” Steve agreed, kissing him back just as fiercely.

[beasbees]

Weekend Bee Work? 1.18.25

My husband regularly reminds me that I work too much and give too much of myself to the business without the same return, specifically from the owner, and he's not wrong. But I love what I do, I care genuinely for the bees and my customers and the wellbeing of the farm, and I have a strong moral drive to do the right thing every time, so I'm often dragged into work at inconvenient times. Sorry husbando!

I got a call from an employee who was frantically contacted by one of our hive management customers yesterday. We do colony management on private property for people seeking tax relief via agriculture valuation on their property, a super common thing out here in rural communities. There are a lot of options for ag val programs: cattle, prairie, timber, bees, etc. We have learned the basics for getting someone started in the process and the laws for maintaining the valuation, so that the customer can benefit from the tax relief without learning a whole new skill or taking on another responsibility but still improving the land.

ANYWAY, this customer had purchased a parcel of property from one of our larger ag val customers, which had about 20 colonies, and inherited the colonies and tax breaks. This parcel was close to a country highway, and the bees were behind a structure but close to and visible from the road, which we don't recommend for a number of reasons. One of those reasons is the temptation of vandalism and theft, which surprises most people to learn is common with bees. At some point shortly before they purchased the parcel, the structure had caught fire and burned down, exposing the colonies more and making the parcel seem abandoned I assume. So a few weeks after they took ownership, they came out to clear the land and found their colonies ransacked, and the bees were gone.

We promised to get them right again so that they weren't in trouble with the tax office, but the beekeeper who did the work didn't bother to communicate with the property owners at all, but simply came out, changed things, and left. So the customer was confused.

Granted this all happened last summer, so I don't know what took them so long to notice something seemed wrong, but whatever.

We previously had those 20 colonies to meet the needs of the parcel as it was attached to a larger piece of land. To qualify for an ag val with bees in Texas, you can only have between 5 and 20 acres on the parcel, and each amount of acreage requires a specific amount of colonies to qualify. Each county has its own rules and amounts per acre, too. Once the new owners purchased this now smaller, detached parcel, the amount of colonies they needed reduced, but they weren't informed of that at any point in the process, which annoys me to no end. Because then you get situations like this where the customer is freaking out about not having enough bees, and I am running an hour outside of town to potentially move bees in dangerously cold weather in order to make it right on my day off.

Thankfully I gathered all of the up to date, accurate info on the land parcel, could take visual cues and clues from what all the beekeeper left behind to track their work and sus out their reasoning (this particular beekeeper annoys the life out of me, and doesn't keep records of their work!!), talked with the landowners for a bit and got them up to speed, and inspected the colonies from the outside. Since it was a nice sunny day, the bees were active around the entrances, but not flying very much in the cold wind, so I could see that they were alive and well. The owner was understandably concerned, since if you didn't know much about beekeeping you could easily assume there were no bees there and all her colonies were dead or absconded and the tax office was about to throw the book at her. Unfortunately this lead her to unceremoniously (being uninformed, of course, not malicious) rip the lids off the two colonies pictured to try to illustrate to me that there were no bees, which I had to correct her for. You can't be exposing whole colonies to this kind of cold weather like that, it's dangerous for their survival. But now she knows and she knows those colonies are occupied, so hopefully that won't be happening anymore and she can rest easy.

Also, if you read all of that, thanks for listening and sorry for rambling lol. Please enjoy this silly banana cat photo my sweet employees made of me 😂