#‘a wind farm in texas’

[barometric]

[darydover]

[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 disheveled 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.

[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.

1, 2 , 3

───────┈ · ·

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 decide 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 say 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)

[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.

[rav1377]

Goodnight Loving Trail

cowboy!John Price x fem!reader (ranch au)

put my whole Texas behind into this one…if it’s too technical for y’all lemme know. my family has experience cattle ranching so i have knowledge on this subject and if i wrote something that you’re looking like “what the hell is she talking about.” LET ME KNOW! if you’d like something more visual for the calf stuff, i HIGHLY recommend watching the Houston Rodeo reruns of team calf roping AND tie down roping, all on YouTube! i know it may seem harsh as you read this, but the cows aren’t being hurt.

tw:kissing in this one, comfort, father getting sicker, dementia, not taking pills, ranch work, etc etc etc NOTE: reader does reference something of John’s as “bigger than hers”, NOT a reference to readers size/weight, merely a JOKE, it’s a JOKE. I do NOT mean to offend anyone or make them feel this fanfic is not for them. reader is reader, meaning YOU!!! if you feel that im inaccurately writing or not being inclusive, LET ME KNOW! I will try to fix it! That being said, I’ve written these as if I was the reader, and I am personally a little chunkier! But if you don’t like this, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF THAT IS GOOD INFORM ME. -cass 💕:D

the cool Texas morning rolls in on the east wind, and the oak trees shift and move in the early hours of the morning. you lie awake in bed, on your side, and face the open window. your pa isn’t getting better and refuses to take his pills. the cows haven’t been worked in days. the fields need tending to. the garden has weeds over growing and strangling your other plants. the barns need to be prepared for winter. the goats and sheep need to be checked. the dogs need to be fed. the perimeter needs to be rerun. the fence on the west side needs to be fixed. the pipes are leaky and need new pieces. the roof is old and crumbling, needing new shingles. everything is falling apart to you. you sigh and sit up as your clock hits 4:30am. maybe with John here things will be different. you didn’t want to admit you needed his help, but you do.

you stretch and try to get the sleep in your eyes away. the wardrobe in the corner of your room is open and you reach for a pair of worn jeans and socks, slipping them on slowly. your belt comes on next, followed by an old tee shirt. walking to the bathroom, you turn the old sink on and brush your teeth thoroughly before splashing some cool water on your face. a hair brush pulls hair from your face and into a ponytail. the mirror sits in front of you and you don’t want to look. all you’ll see is a tired girl trying to keep a farm together, bags under her eyes, exhaustion clear. sighing you turn off the light and slip down the hallway. John’s rooms light is on and you hear him moving around. you’d told him to be ready at 5 to help with the morning chores and you smile, pleased he’s ready to work.

the stairs creak slightly as you walk down to the kitchen, pulling out bread and eggs. John comes down not even five minutes later. “mornin’.” he rumbles, deep morning voice present. you nod and buck your head to the toaster. “morning. could you put some bread in there for breakfast?” you ask. he’s quick to follow your orders, promptly entering two slices in before pressing the button down. he watches as you make scrambled eggs, adding a bit of salt and pepper. the toaster pops, and he places a piece on each plate that you already laid out. you turn back to him, eggs done, and serve portions onto each. you place a bigger clump of eggs on his and his eyebrows furrow. “no no, put some back on yours.” you roll your eyes. “John i have plenty on my plate. i made the extra for you on purpose.” orange juice is poured into cups as the two of you sit down. John’s miffed for him getting more than you. his father always told him to make sure his wife always got plenty of food before eating each meal, to make sure she was provided for. of course you weren’t his wife but he thought the philosophy still applied. you did seem okay with your meal, but it still rubbed him a bit wrong.

your sweet voice cuts through the chewing of food. “we have a lot to do.” you whisper, head drooping. “that’s what i came for.” John says, looking at you. “tell me what needs to be done.” he says, putting down his fork after his last bite. “well the priority is the cows. calfing season is coming up and we have a lot of heifers that are having their first babies. so we need to check and work them today.” he nods as you talk, taking a sip of his juice. your thigh is pressed against his and he watches as your hands move with everything you say. “we should also start to prepare the crop fields. we need those to get through the winter. and if we can squeeze it in, start on the barns.” you finally finish, head resting in your hands. “there’s so much to do John and I don’t have the time or means to do it on my own.” you whisper. tears prick at the corner of your eyes as your voice begins to shake. his chest hurts, distraught that you’re so stacked with things to do. “it’ll be okay. we can start on a bunch of the work today.” he tries to console you, hand resting on your back. “these aren’t one day jobs, they’ll take days.” you murmur, head back up. your eyes are far off and filled with worry. “it’ll be okay. y’ever thought about getting more help?” he says. you shake your head. “i don’t need help.” you say firmly, eyes coming to reality again. John sighs in his head. always stubborn. that’s what he remembers most about you from school. you’re hard to change, and when you found something you stood for, you dug your heels in like an anchor. “well we can still get a lot of this done today.” he says, rising from the nook in the kitchen. he takes the plates and glasses, rinsing them in the sink. you nod, eyes stinging. you stand and pull a pill box from the counter, writing something on a sticky note before placing the box on the table. John watches from the sink. “my dads meds.” you explain. he nods and returns to the dishes. “he refuses to take them, he’s just being stubborn.” you growl out. “reminds me of you.” he says, but his eyes are filled with something that you can’t put your finger on. you sigh and look away, headed to the back door.

pulling on your boots, you slip a jacket on to brace the cool fall air. John follows suit and you throw work gloves into your pocket. grabbing your hat, you open the door and walk out to what you call the shed. John follows close behind, steps heavy on the wet grass. the shed isn’t a shed, rather a large barn where you hold everything that you need for work. the tractors, mules, and atvs all sit out in here, waiting to be used. you’ll check cattle first though, and you prefer to be on horses for that so you can get really close to the cattle. “you know how to ride?” you ask, walking over to the tack room that’s connected to the stables. John hums in affirmation, still taking in the room. “good.” you say, walking into the much smaller tack room. you pull off a saddle blanket and saddle before kicking open the door to the stable. your horse Big Red sits on the right stall, chuffing like he’s waiting for you. you smile and throw the saddle over to sit on the fence. Oliver sits in the stable to the left, nickering at the commotion. John walks in behind you, saddle and blanket in hand. “this one okay for me to use?” he asks, showing you. you nod and return to Red, entering his pen. “you’ll ride Oliver today.” you jut your chin out at the large black horse. Oliver was named after Oliver Loving, co-creator of the Goodnight-Loving cattle trail. another black horse in a pen is Charles, named after Charles Goodnight. your father had bought them when you were fourteen, a rare pair of twin brothers. Big Red is your most recent baby though. you bought him as a foal when you had just turned 18, a sort of birthday gift to yourself. his brown-red coat gleamed in the sun and reminded you of the mountains of Arizona and New Mexico.

you enter the stall and throw the blanket and then saddle over your horse, securing it with the straps and belts. you hear John do similar across the room. you walk back to the tack room before bringing out a bridle and harness, then grab a lasso rope before calling out to John the things he’d need. “we’re not completely sure if premie calves have been born so we’ll take some rope just in case.” John nods and returns to the tack room to get his own supplies. you needed a saddle bag for the tag piercer and anything else you might need to work cows, including some water for you and John. some chaps sit in the tack room and you pull your pair on over your jeans, leaning over to fasten the clasps. you hear John’s steps behind you coming into the room and you stand, pointing to where some extra pairs lay. “see if any of those fit you, might be a little tight though. they were my dads.” you say and he nods, pulling on a beaten navy blue pair. they are a little tight, and squeeze his thighs, but aren’t too uncomfortable. when the two of you are finally ready, you open Red’s pen and walk him out into the pasture before mounting him. John follows, but Oliver is playing a joke on the new man, moving every time John tries to bring his right leg over his back, causing him to stumble. you watch, amused, as John tries to get on him again. this time, Oliver moves a good three feet, and John falls right on his butt. you laugh, pressing a hand to your mouth. he looks up to you from the ground. “oh this is funny?” he asks, eyebrows raised. you nod, wheezing. his eyes dance with playfulness as he grasps Oliver’s reins. you walk Red over there, barricading Oliver’s right side so he can’t move. John’s successful this time, and snugly fits into the saddle. “ride ahead to that gate. well go to the Dawn pasture first.” he nods. you watch and follow behind him as he guides Oliver where you directed. his strong legs grip the sides of the horse before resting his feet in the stirrups. eyes trailing upward, you can’t help but look at his ass that’s snug in the saddle. you smirk and look away. he’s got a fatter ass than me you think to yourself.

when you reach the gate, you explain how the farm works. 3 large pastures, each over 100 acres. the Dawn pasture, the Grant pasture, and the Conner pasture. the names help everyone keep track, though unusual. they were the last names of the men your pa worked with in the mines, killed in a mine collapse in Wyoming. Dawn pasture is where you keep a lot of the heifers and young cows, along with sheep or goats if you have them some years. Grant pasture keeps the more seasoned cows and bulls, ones that won’t be too crazy. Connor pasture is the biggest and roughest. Clearwater lake sits on the front part of the pasture that faces the house, and the albeit small Watson mountain ranges sits in the bag. Watson mountain range isn’t really a mountain, but this is Texas land and it does what it wants. it encapsulates the northwest side of the property and the land is rocky and tall, hard to navigate. mountain lions and coyotes roam the area, but you let some cows roam near the lake. they’re smart enough not to venture too close to the mountains. you have three crops that you grow; corn, cotton, and wheat. four if you count the hay field. the corn crop sits in front of the main house while the wheat field sits in front of Connor pasture. the cotton field is relatively small, and is snuggled between the horse pasture and the corn barn. the hay field is nestled between the grant and Connor pasture, and sits diagonal from the main house. that’s all John really needs to know for now, and you unlock the gate, riding into Dawn pasture.

heifers are roaming the hills, grazing at the grass. some of them aren’t pregnant with their first calves but most are. you silently do a rough count of them as you and John ride side by side. one sticks out. an early calf. you have to be careful with these, needing to check and watch over them because they’re a bit early. you look at John and gesture with your hands at the calf. “we need to tag that one.” you call, separating from John. he immediately picks up what you mean and rides to the right side of where the momma cow and the baby are. you turn off to the left as you get closer, pull your cattle stick from the hook on Red’s saddle. the mother is on the left side of the calf, staying close to her baby. John pulls off his rope and swings it slowly in his left hand, legs guiding Oliver on their own. you nod at him and start making noise, whooping lowly and clicking your tongue. the mom sees you now and turns to face you. John creeps to the right and speeds up, moving to lasso the calf. the rope lands around its neck perfectly, and John tugs the rope to get the mom away from the calf. you ride between the gap, and dismount. the momma calf knows who you are though, and thankfully doesn’t make too much trouble, instead watching the situation closely. you walk slowly to the calf, John staying on Oliver. the little animal is panicking, crying for its mother. the momma calf moos at her child, trying to calm them. the momma cow paws at the ground and scrapes up dirt nervously. you pull open your saddlebag, pulling out the tag piercer and a new number ear tag. you walk to the little animal, calming it as you rub its stomach. you swing one leg over its side slowly, pressing her, you check in between your legs. you’ve found that similar to a cow chute, these calves are calmer when they’re squeezed. you make shushing noises as you bend over, pulling its head up gently so you can slip the tag through its ear with the piercer with a clear ca-chunk.

you throw off the lasso and release the cow to her mom, hearing her duck under her moms body. you smile and nod at John before walking back to your own horse. the two of you walk around and check the pasture, counting only one more premie and working it. the rest of your heifers are looking great, still healthy and round with their coming babies. the whole ordeal takes about 4 hours, and by the time you’re done it’s almost 10:00. as you ride back to the horse pasture John sighs. “well, we got that done in four hours, we started at six?” he asks. you nod, looking at the brunette man. “we’ll have to run those calves to the chute to get them their shots and register them.” you say. John slides off Oliver to open the gate to the horse pasture. “well use the horses again, but i need to run inside to check on my pa.” you say, dismounting after he closed the gate. you hand Big Red reins to him. “ill be right back.” you say, nodding. his blue eyes bare into yours and you stay silent. the walk back to the main house is silent and lonely. wish John was here. your mind unconsciously thinks and you scold yourself. you can’t be thinking about him like that. he’s a ranch hand, nothing more. the house is quiet when you walk in.

walking to the living room, your pa is sat in his normal armchair, watching some news channel. “pa?” you ask, kneeling by him. “hello.” he says, finally looking at you. as you look up at him, you can see it in his face. he doesn’t recognize you. “hi.” you whisper. “what’s a nice young lady like you doing in my house?” he asks, sitting up straighter. “nothing sir, i’m just passing through.” you say, standing. “i have something for you.” he nods, rising as well. “you need to swallow these. do you understand that?” picking up your fathers pill box you open today’s day and hand them to your father. “swallow them with water or when you eat something, okay?” your pa nods and walks to the fridge. “well i’ll just swallow them right now then.” he says, pulling out the pitcher of sweet tea. you nod, eyes stinging as you pull him a cup. he doesn’t remember you. he pours himself a glass of tea and takes his pills. nodding, you walk back to the back door and pick up your hat from its hook. “you know, lemme tell you somethin’ girl. you look just like my wife Audrey.” he says, nodding as he sips his tea. “i bet she’s real pretty.” you whisper before walking out the back door.

John’s waiting for you like a loyal dog at the horse pasture. you climb back on your horse and John unlocks the gate. “you know how to team rope?” you ask as you ride side by side. “i do. i’m better at heading.” he says, voice gruff. it sends a shiver down your spine and you look away. in rodeo, team roping is one of the best events. two cowboys both with lassos, chase a cow. when they’re ready, they release those ropes, one trying to get the calf’s head, called a “header”. the other cowboy tries to get the calf’s legs or foot, called a “heeler”. that’s what you and John will be doing. it’s easier to get the calf immobilized so you can lead it back up to the cow chutes at the front of Dawn pasture than trying to get it there by herding alone. you don’t need the whole herd, just the two calves. luckily, you don’t have to go far. you can see the two calves from this morning with their moms and you head toward them. you pull off your lasso and John follows suit. he pulls a piggin string from his belt and tucks it between his teeth. as you spin the lassos, approaching, the calves are skittish, but you and John hook one successfully. his rope flies around the neck, tugging the calf to him and Oliver as you release yours, perfectly hooking on its rear left leg. Johns already off Oliver, turning the calf to tie its legs. when he finishes, he picks up the calf and rests it on top of his horse, sitting in front of him.

it’s your turn. you pull out your own piggin string and tuck it in between your teeth. John leads this one, blue eyes zeroing on the second calf. as you ride to it, swinging the ropes, John releases his, perfectly landing on the animals head, slowing it for you. you’re quick to release your own, roping both of its back legs, something challenging for heelers. you’ve only done it a handful of times. John lets out a whoop and a laugh as you dismount Red and wrap the calf’s legs together with the piggin string. “you ever done that before?” John calls to you, voice filled with excitement. “yeah, twice! and one of them the calf seemed like it was running through molasses.” you say, grinning up at him. hauling the young calf to your horse, you follow suit of John and place the calf across Big Red, sitting snug next to you so you can keep it safe. the two of you ride back in laughter, talking about what just happened, conversation flowing like wine. you can’t remember the last time you laughed so much. when John gets to the chute he enters the pen and pulls his calf with him, letting the thing run around in the pen. you follow suit, releasing your little calf. “want me to get them in the chute?” he asks from inside the pen. nodding, you walk up to chute controls, opening it for the first calf. John’s clicking his tongue and holds his arms out to herd one into the chute. the skittish one runs in instantly, and you close the door on the young calf to keep him trapped. he moos at you and you nod, pulling out the shot kit you keep in a storage box by the chute. “i know i know.” you say, continuing to babble back at the young cow as he bellows at you. they’re like your children really, you talk like they’re grown and can understand you. preparing the dosage, you come to the side of the chute before pressing the needle into it’s skin. the cow chuffs and rattles inside the chute. pulling out a clipboard, you fill out a registration form for the calf, including his new number and vet information. you pull open the lever for the chute and the young cow runs back down the fence line, back into Dawn pasture. John herds the second calf next, she seems to be the more stubborn one. she’s escaping John’s arms and refuses to move when he waves at her. you chuckle. “come on John! i thought you were a cowboy!”you call, leaning over the fence to watch him struggle. he growls something at you, and finally guides the calf into the chute. you hit the lever and the cow stops. preparing another shot, you carefully inject her before registering her as you did the other. John’s huffing and breathing hard as he comes to stand next to you. when you release the cow you face him. “worn out because of a little calf?” you tease, smiling up at him. he shakes his head, still out of breath. his face is flushed, and his chest moves rapidly under his white shirt. you laugh and pat him on the left side of his chest before walking back to the horses. you mount yours and John follows suit. it’s almost noon as you finish tacking away the horses and gear. the house is loud, some old music playing on the radio your pa listens to. “there’s sandwich stuff for lunch if that’s okay.” you offer, going to the fridge to pull out the pitcher of tea and some strawberries. John nods and pulls out bread. you pull ham and cheese out of the fridge as well, trying to balance it all. the packet of ham starts to slip out of your arms but John catches it. “thanks.” you smile at him and place the contents on the counter. as you stand side by side and make lunch, someone watches from the hall.

your father leans on his cane, but stands deathly still as he watches the scene. you’re smiling again. laughing. like some invisible burden was raised from your shoulders and you can be young again. it reminds him of his Audrey. they used to stand in the kitchen, making dinner together, dancing around the hardwood floor. he’s got so many regrets. he should’ve married Audrey sooner. should’ve had his family when he was younger. instead he waited until he was an old man, back tired and sore from the mines. now he’s older and has trouble remembering. remembering his daughter. he doesn’t want to leave you alone. hours spent in a collapsed mine surrounded by the corpses of his friends haunt him of that at night. the thought of his wife bleeding out on the street alone after being shot wake him up from sleep. that’s partially why he put in an ad. hoped that whatever ranch hand out here (after he made sure they were safe and hard working) would help after he died. maybe have some compassion and help you with the funeral before moving on. you’d be able to move away with the money from his will and from the land. go to the city. but he was a young man once. sees the glint in that boys eyes when you laugh. hears the way you laugh. maybe that boy would stick around. for good.

John and you eat out on the back porch. a swing sits on and faces the pastures, and the combination of the rocking, the breeze flowing down the hills, and the good meal you just ate is making you sleepy. John’s shoulder presses against yours as he eats. his eyes are wide and take in the scenery as he takes another bite of strawberry. you smile and relax your shoulders, placing the plate to the right of you. eyes drooping, you don’t even feel yourself drift off to sleep.

John feels a weight on his bicep. you’re leaning on him, eyes shut and arms crossed over your chest. he slows his feet that are pushing the chair and stills. the plate and sandwich in his lap are left discarded, and he slowly licks off strawberry juice from his fingers before relaxing. he could sit while you napped. wouldn’t move an inch. you were probably tired. it’d been a long day and the weather was only getting warmer, cicadas clicking in the distance. jackets had long been left inside and hats hung on their hooks for later use. your nose lets out little puffs of air, and your body begins to really relax. your shoulders go completely limp and your body leans forward more, unable to hold itself up. so John tucks you under his right arm. moving slow, he shifts so your left thigh is almost on top of his right and your back leans into his chest. his right hand searches for a place to sit and tentatively rests on your right hip. the breeze floats through the porch, soothing the both of you. John’s eyes flutter closed and stay closed.

it’s mid afternoon when you begin to stir. you feel something heavy slung over your hip as your eyes open. the porch sits in front of you along with someone’s wide legs. you sit up slowly, taking in the environment. looking to your left, John’s asleep, head tipped back against the porch swing. snores leave his mouth and drool runs down the right sound of his mouth. his plate sits in his lap, half of a sandwich left over. his hand is the one on your hip and you try to stand, blushing. his hand tightens and pulls on your waist before you finally escape his grasp. you’re sure your face is flushed as you straighten your shirt and pick up both discarded plates. leaving him on the porch, you walk inside and rinse them both, looking out the window that overlooks the land. your father comes up behind you. “y’all worked hard this morning.” he says, coming to get a drink of water. you nod, scrubbing at the plates with soap. “he’s a fine worker. good man.” your father remarks, taking a sip before walking to pull a chair from the breakfast nook. you nod along again, drying the plates with a rag. “y’all work together well.” he says, looking at you directly. you hum, placing the ceramic plates in the cabinet. “yeah. got work done quick today.” you say before grabbing your hat and placing it on your head. you pick up John’s as well, knowing he’ll want it. “we’re going to go check the fields. start on the hay one.” you say, looking back at your pa. for the first time in a while, you see him. he looks old, hair graying and bones weak. he smiles at you still, just like he did when you were a kid. “okay sunflower. i’ll be here.” he says, and you slip out the back door. gazing where John sleeps, your mind turns. you shouldn’t do it. shouldn’t let him get close. you think back to your high school days, when you’d exchange glances at each other in the halls. flitting stares in class. his eyes straining to see you as he stood on the football field on game days. you’d hoped there’d be something between the two of you then, but it never happened. that was 5 years ago. not long at all, but to you it was. you stare at his sleeping form for a few moments more. his large chest rises slowly as he snores, and you look down. you shouldn’t. you won’t. but at the same time, it’s John. you’d smiled more than you have in the past year, laughed more than you have in the past three. you’re not sure what to make of the feelings in your chest, but you know John’s the cause of it.

you step in front of him, and rub his left shoulder. “John.” you say, pulling him upward a bit. “John. we have more work to do. John.” you say all of this softly, and his eyes flicker open, head raising to look at you. his hairs tussled and sticks up, blue eyes blinking blearily at you. drool clings to the side of his mouth and you smirk. “wipe your face.” you say before putting his hat on his head and walking to the Shed.

the first thing John hears is your sweet voice saying his name like it means something. he blinks his eyes open, your pretty eyes look down at his, hair looking perfect beneath your hat. he’s caught up in you, your soft lips and face with a healthy dose of warmth on them. “wipe your face.” is all he hears before you’re placing his hat on his head and walking off. he scrambles up and jogs after you, porch swing rattling in the process. he does what he’s told though, wiping dried drool off his mouth before catching up with you. opening the door to the Shed, you pull keys for an atv four wheeler. “we should go check the hay field.” you say, walking to the garage door, hitting the controls to open the large thing. “you okay with riding on the same one?” you ask. “kind of forgot to fill up the other one…” your voice trails off and you rub the back of your neck. that really was on you. John couldn’t care less, nodding as you walk back over. he watches you swing your leg over and lean to the front of the vehicle before turning over the engine. John didn’t account for being so close to you though. as he swings one leg over, the front of your thighs become flush with the backs of yours. he tries to keep himself leaned back, not touching you at all with his hands. “good.” he says gruffly and you nod, pulling out of the Shed. the drive to the hay field thankfully isn’t too bad. John’s more focused on the way your thighs touch his. as you slow to the fence of the field you nod at him, and he gets off to unlock the gate. basically a universal ranch rule. the youngest or the grunts get the gate. right now, he’s the grunt, so he gets the gate. as he pulls it open, you ride through and idle, waiting for him to get back on. “you can leave it open! we’ll be back.” you call over the rumble of the engine, and he climbs back onto the vehicle. a worn down path cuts through the middle and you ride down it, eyes scanning. John leans in closer and you feel his stomach touch your lower back. “what are we looking for?” he shouts so you can hear him. “animals, bull nestle, any odd plants, vultures, or large groups of bugs!” you yell back. John leans away at that, his eyes start scanning.

you’re riding the permiter of the fence now, looking out at the field to the left. just then, something catches John’s eye in the air. his right hand darts to your shoulder and his left points upwards. “there!” he says, and you slow before taking a path cutting through the field to the left. a vulture is circling around something on the ground, floating in the air. finally you see it. a dead coyote laying in the patch of grass. the vultures don’t scare and continue to pick at the dead animal. you turn off the engine and reach down by the bottom of the atv to pull off the rifle strapped there. leaning the barrel over the seat of the atv, you aim carefully before you have the vulture picking at the animal in sights. John crouches next to you quietly, soft breath hitting your shoulder. you exhale and take the shot.

dead on. John’s impressed as the vulture falls to the ground and you’re quick to aim for the one in the sky, holding the barrel still for all of two seconds before another shot rings out. dead on. you’re like Annie Oakley or something. he watches you rise and strap the gun back to the atv. “pop the seat, there’s some trash bags in there.” you say before pulling on your work gloves. he pulls the bags out before he’s pulling his own work gloves from his back pocket and tugging them on. like the chaps, they’re a little tight but not terribly bad. the two of you walk to the animals, John helping maneuver the coyote and vulture into the bag before picking up the other dead vulture that’s a few feet away. “this all looks fresh so the grass should be okay.” you say as you walk back. John ties the bag into a bungee cord on the back plastic part of the atv before you drive, ready to check the rest of the field. thankfully, everything else is clear, grass healthy and tall. Itll be time to bale it soon. the sun is getting lower in the sky when you’re finally done. dinners next. the house is quiet, your pa reading a book in the breakfast nook. “hey pa.” you say, taking off your hat and resting it on a hook. he looks up and grunts. “i was going to make mac n’ cheese with some chicken we have. that okay?” you ask, not really directing the question to anyone. John nods at you while your father speaks up, always something sarcastic to say. “you ask that like you’ll cook something else.” he grins. rolling your eyes, you pull out the ingredients, laying them on the counter. “well no, but it’s polite to ask, ain’t it?” you counter. your pa huffs and returns to his book.

everyone’s laughing at dinner. John told your father of how you roped both legs of a calf today and the older man brought up the time you tried to do that as a girl with a much bigger bull, and got thrown straight off your horse when the bull ran. you’d gotten thrown into the mud, completely dirtied, but you didn’t let go of the rope, held right onto it until one of the other men in the ring picked you up. even then, you were screaming like the devil, trying to get that bull. Johns eyes danced with light, and they flitted to you with every laugh. your pa was grinning like a cheshire cat, letting out wheezing laughs. you felt your face flush as you smiled into your lap, shoulders shaking as you suppressed laughter.

your pa helped you with dishes today, bones feeling good to stand. he laughed and teased you about things that happened when you were a girl. “you were such a pretty baby. cutest cheeks on earth. I thought you were the most beautiful thing I ever saw.” he chuckles, drying off a plate. you smile and rinse silverware. he looks at you, placing a plate back in its stack. “you still are the most beautiful thing in my life, sunflower. my daughter.” his hand comes down on your shoulder and you smile at him. he pulls you in for a hug before pressing a kiss to your temple. “i’m going to bed.” he says, walking off onto the stairs. “goodnight! i’ll be back later, going to do the night chores!” you call, and he replies with a goodnight back. walking to the front door, you open it to see John sitting in a rocking chair, eyes looking at the setting sun. “hey. want to help me with the night chores?” you ask, walking to him slowly. his eyes look up at you, shining in the orange light of the sun. he nods and stands. “okay. well i usually go to the Shed first, we lock everything up and make sure the horses have hay for the night, then we go to the corn barn and make sure everything’s stored properly. we have some barn cats in there so we feed them as well.” you say, leading the way to the Shed.

John goes to check on the horses while you lock up the doors and check fuel levels on the vehicles. “they’re fed, got hay in the feeders. low on the troughs though.” he says, walking over to you. trying to ignore the way he just fills a room with his presence, you nod. “we’ll feed them in the morning. let’s go to the barn.” you say, trying to turn away from him. the walk is silent, and his hand brushes yours as you walk side by side. John walks slowly, basking in the day. you have no desire to make it go any faster, comfortable with the large man next to you. the corn barn is silent when you walk in, but two heads peek out behind a corner wall, mewling at you. “Matthew and Matilda.” you say, pointing at the cats. one is a white cat, dusting of brown fur along her back, and the other is a tawny color. “Mathew’s the tawny one.” you explain, walking over to a storage closet. pulling out the cat feed, you open a can and toss the other to John. “sometimes we spoil them with meat meat, but this is what they get for now.” Matilda walks over to you, rubbing on your legs as she purrs. when you place down her tin, she’s quick to dive in. Johns letting Matthew smell him, petting the cats head gently. Matthew whines when he smells the food and John smirks, placing it down on the ground. he rises, looking over to you. orange light still streams in from outside and an idea pops into your head. “cmon.” you say, turning to a set of stairs pushed on the side of the barn. the old steps hold your weight and when you get to the second level, you push open a door to the roof. you look back at John and smile, climbing up. when your feet are planted, you walk up the ton roof to the top, sitting on the flat part of the peak. John sits next to you, and looks out over the land. the view is better from here. the sun hits the grass and trees just right, and the painting of colors in the sky makes him feel at peace. he’s seen sunsets before of course, but never from here. never with you. your legs are stretched out in front of your and your hands sit on either side of the ground.

John’s fingers twitch. he shouldn’t. you’re his employer. you’re busy and don’t need this. you don’t like him. nothing happened when you were in highschool. he shouldn’t touch you like this. but something pulls at his heart.

you feel fingers brush your right hand, curling to hold your own. you flinch and look at John. what the hell is he doing. why is he touching you. oh my god he shouldn’t be touching you. but his hand is so nice. he’s treated you so well. he made you laugh. you still love him.

so maybe that’s why you don’t pull away from his touch. maybe that’s why you lean on his shoulder. maybe that’s why when his right hand comes to cup your cheek so you’re forced to look at him, you relent.

“is this okay?” he asks, thumb brushing your cheekbone. you feel yourself nod, mind to blank and heart racing too much to think. he slowly presses his lips against yours and you feel like your melting. it’s soft and sweet, he’s moving slow like he’s trying to savor it. your lips feel like they’re made to be against his, and you sigh his name against his lips. he pulls away and drops his hand, looking for a reaction from you. “still okay?” he asks. “yeah. ‘m okay.” you reply, leaning in to kiss him again. your lips press against the right side of his mouth, and they drift up to place one on his jaw. his sighs, and you’re placing your left hand on his bicep, gripping it as his hand drifts to your hip. he moves his head to catch your lips again, and the warm Texas sun makes the whole thing a little bit warmer.

you’re sneaking back to the house now. the sun had gone down significantly, but the purples and blues still lasted. John’s trailing behind you, hand clasping yours as you open the door. you sneak up the stairs and pause at the hallway between your two doors. he pulls you close, chest flush against his as he cups your face, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “i’ll see you in the morning.” he whispers before opening the door to his room. you nod, retreating to your own. as you go to the hall bathroom to shower, the warm water slows your mind down. slipping a nightgown over your head, you tug it down before brushing your teeth. your hair is damp and tangled as you walk back to your room, shutting the door. you hear John’s footsteps into the bathroom, followed by the squeaky shower pipes. turning to your mirror, you brush out your hair before laying down in your bed. you’re still up a hour later, mind racing over the days events. so you creep out of bed, open your door, and open John’s. he’s snoring softly, blankets kicked down to his thighs. an old band shirt sits on his chest, hand pushing it up to expose his stomach. he’s hairy, dark hair covering so much of him. you see the dark happy trail snake under his belly button and down to the v-in his hips. his boxer shorts fit loose on his legs, and you shut the door behind you. walking to his bed, you climb in next to him, curling into his side. his eyes flutter open and once he sees you, he relaxes. “hey.” he whispers, pulling his arms around you. you whimper into his neck and he kisses your cheek. “everything okay?” he says, hand tracing down your back. you nod. “i wanted to be with you.” you admit softly, curling your hands into his hair. he chuffs and smiles, pulling the blanket to cover you both. “goodnight-lovie’” he whispers as he sees you close your eyes.

PHEW!!!! LONG CHAPTER!!! MY FINGERS HURT!!! SO GLAD ITS DONE!!!!! SMUT IN THE NEXT CHAPTER! SIMON IS COMING NEXT!!!

-cass💕:D

[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.

[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.

[forwhatiam]

Happy 28th! <3 As always, here's some of my favorite fics I've had the pleasure of reading this month, arranged from longest to shortest. Fics with a * before them found their way into my bookmarks!

Golden by shaylea (E, 128k)

On a rainy night in Auckland in the middle of his world tour, popstar Harry Styles loses his ability to carry on. Instead of continuing to Sydney and the rest of his tour, he seeks sanctuary with Louis Tomlinson, a man with a macadamia nut farm and a mysterious past.

*wildflower by blueskiesrry (E, 112.7k)

a 1950s hollywood story spanning half a decade where harry and louis are constantly growing towards, away from, & around each other and everything harry wants are things he can’t have.

babydoll blues by devilinmybrain (E, 111.5k)

Louis is a high profile, filthy rich label executive who has the world at his feet - a music god.. Harry is the sugar baby trying to make a name for himself singing in shady bars and hanging off the arm of Louis' biggest rival. What Louis wants, Louis gets. But what if the game gets too hot and hits a little too close to the heart?

Tattoos and Temptations by refusethyname (E, 67.1k)

“Love,” he drawled, the word dripping with sinful allure, “I’ve got tattoos that are older than you,” he murmured, his voice a rough whisper, his breath warm against Harry’s lips.

Harry tilted his head, a teasing smirk of his own tugging at his mouth despite the rapid beat of his heart. “What can I say, I like experienced men.”

Louis chuckled low in his throat, a sound that sent heat rushing through Harry’s veins. “Cheeky little thing, aren’t you?” he murmured, his hand sliding up Harry’s back to tangle in his curls. He tugged lightly, just enough to tip Harry’s head back and expose more of his neck.

“You’re the one winding me up.”

*Finding Lou by stylinsoncity (M, 60.2k)

Louis is the nomadic stranger who wanders into Harry’s bookstore. Harry is the skeptic who falls for him.

*Dreaming of You by louislittletomlintum (E, 30.1k)

the one where harry's in his mid-20's so it's probably about time louis took his virginity

Suddenly They're Right by sapphichug (E, 22.3k)

Louis is a painting professor with an art block the size of Texas and a global superstar for a non-boyfriend, who he wants to keep.

a fic about feeling stuck and learning to free oneself

Take Our Bodies Higher by littlelouishiccups (E, 21k)

In which Harry is a phone sex operator and Louis dials a wrong number.

*i'm the queen of rock n roll by fairytalefemme (T, 17.2k)

In which Louis is in love with two girls she doesn't know - one she's never met and one she kissed upon first sight - and it takes a lot of zines and weed and Bugles for her to figure it all out.

(Or, it's 1993 in Olympia and everyone's just a useless lesbian with a riot grrrl band.)

Call Me a Thief by moodlighting (NR, 8.8k)

AU. Of all the people on campus, the one person Louis can’t seem to stop running into is Harry fucking Styles. And he keeps stealing all of Louis’ shit.

You Have it Easy by louislittletomlintum (E, 6k)

the one where Harry shows Louis exactly how he gets himself off

give me forever for awhile by mercutionotromeo (E, 5.4k)

light sweet kittenplay because Harry owns multiple collars and he has to use them for something, right?

BONUS NON-1D POEM: Statuesque by idlt (Baseball RPF, G, 184)

On June 26, 2024, Danny Jansen was the batter for the Toronto Blue Jays against the Boston Red Sox. The game was suspended during his plate appearance. Today is August 26, 2024, except at Fenway, where it is June 26, 2024. Danny Jansen is the batter for the Jays/the catcher for the Red Sox/frozen in time.

[political-us]

The current U.S. power grid is not fully prepared to handle the rising demand from AI, EVs, and crypto without significant upgrades. While the grid is evolving, challenges include aging infrastructure, transmission bottlenecks, and the need for more renewable energy integration. Here’s a breakdown of key factors:

1. Capacity vs. Demand Growth

• The grid has enough total generation capacity today, but localized demand spikes (like AI data centers or EV clusters) can strain certain regions.

• By 2035, electricity demand could rise by 15-25%, requiring hundreds of gigawatts (GW) of new capacity.

• Many utilities are already struggling to build out transmission lines fast enough to keep up with demand.

2. Grid Reliability & Stress Points

• AI & Data Centers: Large data centers are being built in regions where power supply is already constrained (e.g., Northern Virginia, Texas).

• EV Charging Peaks: If too many EVs charge at the same time, local grids could experience voltage drops or blackouts.

• Extreme Weather: The grid is already vulnerable to extreme heat, storms, and wildfires, which could worsen with climate change.

3. Solutions & Grid Upgrades

• Transmission Expansion: The U.S. needs to build more high-voltage transmission lines to move power from wind/solar farms to urban areas.

• Battery Storage & AI for Grid Management: Advanced battery storage can smooth out supply-demand mismatches, and AI can optimize grid operations.

• Decentralized Energy: Microgrids, rooftop solar, and community battery projects can reduce strain on the centralized grid.

• Smart Charging for EVs: Managed charging (incentivizing off-peak charging) can help distribute demand more evenly.

Can the Grid Handle It?

• Short-term (2025-2030): The grid will face localized stress, especially in high-demand regions. Rolling blackouts or infrastructure failures could occur if upgrades don’t keep pace.

• Mid- to Long-term (2030+): If investments in transmission, renewables, and smart grid technology accelerate, the grid can handle these changes, but delays in modernization could lead to reliability issues.

[rjzimmerman]

Excerpt from this New York Times story:

A growing group of Republicans and business leaders is rallying behind an unlikely cause. They want to protect Biden-era tax credits for wind, solar and other clean energy.

President Trump has made dismantling federal efforts to address climate change a signature part of his agenda, eliminating environmental regulations, withholding congressionally approved funding, firing workers, halting permitting for wind energy developments and fast-tracking fossil fuel projects.

But the clean energy tax credits, which were signed into law by President Joseph R. Biden Jr. in 2022 as part of the Inflation Reduction Act, have helped spur a boom in manufacturing investment in the United States, especially in Republican districts.

Now, as Mr. Trump pushes Congress to slash federal spending to pay for broad tax cuts, some House Republicans from districts that got billions of dollars in investment from the tax credits have begun a campaign to keep them.

The Republicans are making the case that supporting renewable energy is squarely in line with Mr. Trump’s “energy dominance” agenda, despite the president’s rallying against what he calls the “green new scam.”

Last week, a group of 21 House Republicans wrote a letter to Representative Jason Smith of Missouri, the chairman of the Ways and Means Committee, asking him to preserve the credits. And in recent weeks, several groups of conservative environmentalists and business leaders have traveled to Capitol Hill to lobby members of Congress on the issue.

“To meet President Trump’s campaign promises of bringing back manufacturing and taking energy production at home seriously, we need to look at an all-the-above approach to these things,” Representative Andrew Garbarino of New York, who organized the letter, said in an interview. “These credits have been helping do that.”

President Trump has not specifically said which if any of the credits he wants to eliminate, but he regularly talks about repealing the Inflation Reduction Act. The White House declined a request for comment.

The credits, which offer financial incentives to companies producing renewable power and sustainable aviation fuel, making components for clean technology and working to pull carbon dioxide from the atmosphere, have helped push billions of dollars into domestic factory construction in recent years. The United States recorded more than $315 billion in clean energy investments last year, according to the International Energy Agency.

About 80 percent of the investments tied to the bill have gone to Republican congressional districts, according to an analysis by Atlas Public Policy, a research firm. They include battery plants across the Southeast, a lithium mine in Nevada and wind farms in Texas.

[lesbiansimqueen]

LESBIAN CHARACTERS ! in order of the books! all of my couples are butch/femme lesbians. each has a book (only one published, the next two upcoming, and another i'm finishing the first draft in the next few days)

some important notes: - these characters stop aging when they hit their "physical peak," usually in their thirties. that is why they are all beautiful young adults. - the gathering is a group of magical beings who are responsible for protecting and bringing justice to magickals in both the human realm and the other world

lorelei and ashara - tides of enchantment

lorelei - blue because she is from a race of water gods called the hydreia. her family was exterminated after she ran away with ash, only having met her the night before. she is bipolar; her moods can be so explosive they are dangerous because her ability to manipulate water becomes out of her control. ash calms her down easily. but she is also so very kind and welcoming and wise.

ashara (ash) - ashara was born and raised on a farm in rural texas. she is a strong, powerful charmer with the ability to manifest anything lor could ever want. she is usually calm and collected, stoic, always ready to lead. with lorelei, she can get a little more riled up, especially when her wife is in trouble.

lilith (lily) and ellis - blood and embers

lily - lilith is a private investigator who has lived thinking that she was a human her entire life, up until her abilities manifest at the worst possible time. she finds out that she is a goddess of fire, and that ellis is her natural mate. her panic attacks begin again, putting everyone in more danger. lily is kind of uptight but incredibly sweet and soft. she is curious and determined.

ellis -ellis is a sanguipir, sort of like a vampire but they bathe in blood instead of drinking it. she is older than many civilizations. she is nonbinary--her pronouns are she/he (i use she out of habit because that's what i used in the book), and she flows between calling herself a man and a woman. charming but kind of awkward at the same time, doesn't like people. not necessarily grumpy but introverted and prefers to be alone.

camilla and aella - windswept desire

camilla - camilla is the only human featured in the stories, but she's incredibly important. she is the princess of amoura before she and aella run away together to fight with the gathering. aella and camilla have been best friends their whole lives, raised side by side as protector and princess. camilla begins to discover and come to terms with her lesbianism once her feelings for aella become clearer to her. she is SO soft and cute and sweet and funny. completely fearless. the gathering still calls her "your highness" or "princess" even when she leaves the city she ruled over for good.

aella - aella is part of a race of warrior gods of the wind and has trained since she was a child to fight primarily with a staff. she has loved and wanted her best friend since the moment she learned to want. she struggles with the vows she took to her own ancestors never to "defile" her princess. when they begin training together, she becomes overwhelmed by her feelings and can't hide them or resist the urge to touch camilla any longer. aella is grouchy as hell. she only smiles when she's with her princess, and she's incredibly bossy.

angelique and charlie - (untitled)

angelique - angelique is on the run from her dangerous past when she settles into the same city that charlotte is trying to take over with her group of magickals. angelique's history compels her to make the choice of peace. she thinks the oppressive humans can be compromised with in order to run the city. angelique is very uptight, has very severe ptsd, but she just melts for charlotte's beaming charm.

charlotte - charlotte does not believe in peaceful protest. she believes that the only way to get through to the humans is to dominate them as beings with magical abilities. since they are both leading their own operations, they butt heads a lot. charlotte is charming, adorable, very endearing. but she's desperately impulsive, and gets herself into trouble all the time.

[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.

[winitichorrors]

𝐔𝐍𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍. (𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐓 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑.)

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐮𝐩𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲'𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐬. 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐇𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐭, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫. 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting eerie shadows across the desolate Texas landscape, you found yourself lost on a winding dirt road. Your car had sputtered to a halt, its engine dying in a cloud of smoke. Panic set in as you realized you were stranded in the middle of nowhere, with no cell phone signal and no other vehicles in sight.

Desperation led you to start walking, following the road in hopes of finding help. Eventually, you came across a weathered sign that read "Hewitt Farm." With no other options, you decided to take a chance and follow the sign. After a long and uneasy trek, you arrived at a dilapidated farmhouse hidden among the trees.

As you cautiously approached the house, the unsettling feeling in your gut intensified. The place seemed abandoned, but something told you it wasn't entirely empty. Just as you reached the front door, it creaked open on its own, revealing a dimly lit interior. You hesitated for a moment, debating whether to enter or run back into the night.

Inside, you discovered a macabre scene. The walls were adorned with grotesque decorations made from animal bones and human remains. Your heart raced as you realized you were in the lair of the infamous Leatherface, a chainsaw-wielding killer who had terrorized this region for years.

Just as you turned to flee, a massive figure emerged from the shadows. Leatherface stood before you, his grotesque mask concealing his true face, and a bloodied apron draped over his hulking frame. The revving of his chainsaw filled the air as he approached, but instead of attacking, he simply stared at you, head tilted in curiosity.

You trembled with fear, unable to move or scream. Inexplicably, Leatherface didn't strike. Instead, he reached out and gently touched your hand, causing you to flinch. His touch was surprisingly gentle, almost comforting.

Over the following days, you found yourself trapped in the farmhouse, but Leatherface didn't harm you. In fact, he seemed strangely protective, as if he wanted to keep you safe from the horrors of the outside world. He brought you food and tended to your basic needs, all while wearing his terrifying mask.

Gradually, you began to sense a glimmer of humanity beneath the monstrous exterior. You discovered that Leatherface had been raised in an abusive and twisted family, and his actions were the result of a lifetime of torment and isolation. In his own twisted way, he yearned for companionship and acceptance.

As the days turned into weeks, an unlikely bond formed between you and Leatherface. You started to see glimpses of the vulnerable person hidden behind the mask. It was a complex and deeply disturbing relationship, one that defied all logic and morality.

In the end, you had a choice to make. Would you try to escape from the clutches of the Hewitt family and the horrors of the farmhouse, or would you continue to stay, finding solace in the unexpected connection you had formed with Thomas Hewitt, the man known as Leatherface?