#Plaster Sand Plant

[rmxsolution]

Optimize Construction with a High-performance M Sand Plant

In the construction industry, efficiency, sustainability, and quality have become the key drivers of progress. One critical innovation that aligns with these values is the adoption of high-performance M Sand plants. These plants have transformed how construction aggregates are produced, making processes more efficient and delivering better quality sand for construction. In this blog, we will explore the importance of M Sand, how M Sand plants operate, and the numerous benefits they offer to modern construction projects.

What is M Sand?

M Sand, or manufactured sand, is a fine aggregate produced by crushing rocks or quarry stones to a specific size. Unlike natural sand, which is typically sourced from riverbeds and can lead to environmental degradation, M Sand offers a sustainable and consistent alternative. It is widely used in concrete, mortar, and other construction materials, particularly in urban areas where natural sand is scarce.

M Sand is produced using high-tech Sand Manufacturing processes, ensuring a precise particle size distribution that enhances the strength and durability of structures. High-performance M Sand plants are essential for producing quality sand that meets the standards of modern construction projects.

How Does a High-performance M Sand Plant Work?

An M Sand Plant operates through a series of processes designed to optimize the production of high-quality sand. Here’s an overview of the main stages involved:

Crushing and Screening: Large rocks are first crushed using advanced crushers. The crushed material is then screened to remove unwanted particles and ensure the correct size.

Plaster Sand Making Unit: This unit produces fine sand specifically for plastering work. The Plaster Sand Making Unit ensures that the produced sand has the right texture and size for smooth plaster finishes.

Dry Sand Washing System: To ensure the highest quality of M Sand, dust and impurities are removed using a Dry Sand Washing System. This method improves the cleanliness and performance of the sand without using water, which is an advantage in water-scarce regions.

Plaster Sand Classifier: The Plaster Sand Classifier is used to separate fine and coarse sand, ensuring that only the best-quality sand is selected for different construction applications.

Dry Sand Washer: This equipment eliminates excess fines and unwanted material from the sand, ensuring high purity and consistency.

By utilizing advanced machinery such as Dry Sand Washing Systems and Plaster Sand Classifiers, M Sand plants ensure that the sand produced meets the highest standards of quality and performance.

Benefits of High-performance M Sand Plants

Investing in a High-performance M Sand Plant offers numerous benefits for construction projects, ranging from cost savings to sustainability. Below are some key advantages:

1. Consistency and Quality

One of the primary advantages of M Sand is its consistency. Sand Processing Equipment in M Sand plants ensures that each batch is uniform in size and quality. Unlike natural sand, which can have varying particle sizes, M Sand offers precise control over the material, leading to higher-quality concrete and mortar.

2. Sustainable Solution

Natural sand mining has led to severe environmental damage, including erosion, loss of biodiversity, and depletion of water bodies. M Sand Plants provide a sustainable alternative by utilizing rocks and quarry waste, reducing the ecological footprint of construction activities.

3. Cost-effective

Although setting up an M Sand plant requires an initial investment, it leads to long-term cost savings. Dry Sand Washing Systems and Dry Sand Washers reduce wastage, ensuring that only high-quality sand is used in construction. Additionally, since M Sand is manufactured locally, transportation costs are significantly lower compared to sourcing natural sand from distant locations.

4. Higher Strength in Concrete

M Sand offers superior bonding strength in concrete due to its angular and rough surface texture, which improves the overall strength of the structure. It is especially suitable for high-performance concrete applications, where durability and strength are critical.

5. Reduced Water Usage

M Sand plants that use Dry Sand Processing Equipment can reduce the amount of water needed for sand production, making the process more environmentally friendly. This is particularly beneficial in regions facing water scarcity, where traditional wet sand washing methods are not feasible.

Applications of M Sand in Construction

M Sand has become a preferred choice for various applications in construction, including:

Concrete Production: The controlled particle size and shape of M Sand enhance the strength and workability of concrete, making it suitable for both structural and non-structural applications.

Plastering: The use of Plaster Sand Making Units ensures the production of fine, high-quality sand specifically designed for smooth plaster finishes.

Bricklaying and Masonry Work: M Sand’s consistent quality makes it an excellent choice for bricklaying, ensuring a strong bond between bricks.

Road Construction: M Sand is also used in the preparation of asphalt and other materials used for road construction, providing a durable surface.

Why Choose RCMPL for Your M Sand Plant Needs?

At Readymix Construction Machinery Pvt. Ltd. (RCMPL), we specialize in delivering state-of-the-art M Sand Plants, Plaster Sand Plants, and Sand Processing Equipment that meet the specific needs of the construction industry. Our advanced technology ensures high-performance sand production, minimizing waste while maximizing quality and efficiency.

What Sets Us Apart?

Customized Solutions: We provide tailored solutions based on the scale and requirements of your project, whether it’s a large infrastructure project or a small-scale construction.

Advanced Machinery: Our plants incorporate cutting-edge equipment like Plaster Sand Classifiers, Dry Sand Washers, and Dry Sand Washing Systems, ensuring optimal performance and durability.

Sustainability: We are committed to promoting eco-friendly construction practices, offering solutions that reduce environmental impact while maintaining top-quality sand production.

Conclusion

High-performance M Sand Plants have redefined the way sand is produced for construction projects. Their ability to deliver consistent, high-quality sand while reducing environmental impact makes them indispensable for modern construction. Whether you are working on residential, commercial, or infrastructure projects, investing in an M Sand Plant can significantly enhance construction efficiency, reduce costs, and ensure a sustainable future.

For more information on how Readymix Construction Machinery Pvt. Ltd. can help optimize your construction projects with high-performance M Sand plants, visit our website here.

[midseo]

Artificial Sand Making Machines, VSI Crushers, Jaw And Cone Crushers

We are Manufacturer, Supplier, Exporter of Artificial Sand Making Machines, Jaw And Cone Crushers, Finopactor, Special VSI Crushers from India.

Artificial Sand, Artificial Sand Making, Artificial Sand Making Machine, Artificial Sand Making Machines, Sand Making, Sand Making Machine, Sand Making Machines, Crush Sand, Crushed Sand, Sand Crusher, Sand Crushers, Stone Crusher, Stone Crushers, Jaw Crusher, Jaw Crushers, Cone Crusher, Cone Crushers, Hammer Crusher, Hammer Crushers, Finopactor, Plaster Sand Making Machine, Plaster Sand Making Machines, Sand Washing Plant, Sand Washing Plants, Benefication Plant, Benefication Plants, Conveyors Silo, Conveyors Silos, Hoppers, Constructional Machine, Constructional Machines, Constructional Machine Accessories, Concrete Mixer, Concrete Mixers, Hand Driven Concrete Mixer, Hand Driven Concrete Mixers, Semi Automatic Concrete Mixer, Semi Automatic Concrete Mixers, Semi-Automatic Concrete Mixer, Semi-Automatic Concrete Mixers, Concrete Block Machine, Concrete Block Machines, Vibratory Screen, Vibrating Compactor, Vibrating Compactors, Autoramming Block Machine, Autoramming Block Machines, Auto Ramming Block Machine, Auto Ramming Block Machines, Hydraulic Block Laying Machine, Hydraulic Block Laying Machines, Block Machines For Different Profiles, Dust Separator, Dust Separators, Dust Seperating Unit, Dust Seperating Units, Dust Free Product, Dust Free Products, Road Roller, Road Rollers, Oil Cooling System, Oil Cooling Systems, Drier Drum, Host Winch, Builders Hoist, Builders Hoists, Tower Hoist, Tower Hoists, VSI Crusher, Special VSI Crusher, VS Rotopactor, Bajree Sand, Bajaree Sand, Bajari Sand, Bajri Sand, Mining Sand, Construction Machinery, Stone Processing Machinery, Stone Cutting Machinery, Stone Crushing Machinery, Road Building Machinery, Granite Sand, Manufacturer, Supplier, Exporter, Karnataka, Mysore, Gulbarga, Chitradurga, Kolar, Bijapur, Dakshina Kannada, Raichur, Bellary, Belgaum, Hassan, Dharwad, Bangalore Rural, Shimoga, Mandya, Chickmagalur, Bangalore Urban, Madikeri, Tumkur, Bidar, Karwar, Udupi, Davanagare, Chamrajnagar, Koppal, Haveri, Gadak, Yadgir, Andhra Pradesh, Nellore, Cuddapah, Karim Nagar, Kurnool, West Godavari, Srikakulam, Anantpur, Adilabad, Chittor, East Godavari, Guntur, Hyderabad Urban, Khammam, Krishna, Mehboobnagar, Medak, Nalgonda, Nizamabad, Prakasam, Ranga Reddy, Vishakapatnam, Vizianagaram, Warangal, Madhya Pradesh, Sindi, Vidisha, Jabalpur, Bhopal, Hoshangabad, Indore, Rewa, Satna, Shahdol, Chhindwara, Ratlam, Balaghat, Betul, Bhind, Mandla, Chhattarpur, Damoh, Datia, Dewas, Dhar, Guna, Gwalior, Jhabua, Sehore, Mandsaur, Narsinghpur, Panna, Raisen, Rajgarh, Sagar, Seoni, Morena, Shivpuri, Shajapur, Tikamgarh, Ujjain, Khandwa, Khargone, Dindori, Umaria, Badwani, Sheopur, Katni, Neemuch, Harda, Anooppur, Burhanpur, Ashoknagar, asia, asian, india, indian, mumbai, maharashtra, industrial, industries, thane, pune, nashik, aurangabad, ratnagiri, nagpur, ahmednagar, akola, amravati, chandrapur, dhule, jalgaon, raigad, sangli, satara, belgaum, kolhapur, belgaon.

[itneverendshere]

THE OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE - rafe cameron (+18) - six

request: "a rafe enemies to lovers 🫣 the reader is jjs sister the whole drama before but then she gets left behind on the ship and rafe ends up comforting her and then yea that’s all I got you can do whatever else the rest 😛"

WARNINGS: domestic violence; blood; injuries; angst; smut;

word count: 7.6k

You saw it on the news before Sarah told you.

Ward was officially in police custody.

They were calling it the biggest crime operation in years, plastering his face on every corner of every newspaper in the country. You saw it first on your busted-up TV, the morning news anchor's serious tone making the gravity of the situation clear before Sarah had a chance to call.

He was stopped.

The man who caused so much pain to everyone you cared about was finally behind bars.

But your relief came with a bit of caution.

This was just the beginning. There was still a trial to face, and you knew how slippery Ward could be. He had enough money to buy whoever he wanted on the island if not the entire country, and the justice system wasn’t always as just as you hoped.

Trials could take months, even years before he was sentenced.

JJ cheered in the background, almost face-planting the ground as he struggled to get off his chair and call Pope. You hadn’t seen him this ecstatic in years, the hallways of your home echoing with “let’s fucking go, baby!” as he made his way upstairs.

You were content.

Was there really anything to be happy about?

Sure, a bad guy was getting what he deserved, but the destruction he left behind was still very much there.

Months ago, when the police contacted you again, you had refused to testify. What Ward did to you was terrifying, but what he did to Sarah, John B, and Rafe? They were the true witnesses to his evil.

You barely got a taste of his wrath. You were lucky. You wanted to be there, of course. Every person Ward hurt deserved all the support they could get. But watching Rafe Cameron—the boy who had idolized his father for years, now a man—sit in a chair facing countless cameras and strangers for hours as he recounted his life under Ward's control? That was a different kind of heartache.

Rafe.

You hadn’t seen him since that day he dropped by, and it felt like he vanished into thin air. You didn’t see him around town, not at the beach, and he never stopped by your job. You started wondering if he’d been cooped up in that awful house all this time.

You couldn’t shake this feeling of worry, knowing he was stuck in the shadow of his dad’s mess. Did he feel abandoned by you?

The thought of him, alone in that house, haunted you. You knew you should’ve reached out, found him as the town buzzed with the details of Ward’s arrest. More stories came out, each more horrifying than the last.

You almost gave in.

One evening, you found yourself riding past the Cameron estate. You'd forgotten how huge it was, and with the light fading, it just looked like this dark outline in the distance You almost went in, stopping by the gigantic gate, but then you saw movement inside and sped away on your bike.

You couldn’t do it. 

Whatever was between you both just felt… impossible to cross.

The sound of the waves crashing—it’s always been your escape.

You've spent so much time in the water, it felt like second nature to you. Growing up, swimming and surfing were your ways to get away from your dad’s violence and your mom being, well, absent. The ocean became your sanctuary, where you could forget about the yelling, broken furniture, and bottles littering your house. Floating out there, everything bad just… melted away.

But as soon as you stepped back on the sand and headed home, all that peace would disappear. Both your parents were long gone now, but that dread? It never left. It was like the house still held onto those old memories—the shouting, the fights. Even though it was quiet now, the walls were stained with the past. The creaky floorboards, the dim light, chipped paint—You hated it all.

You've thought about leaving so many times, but something always held you back. JJ, mostly. And, well, money.

Tonight, as you got closer, something felt off. JJ’s truck wasn’t in its usual spot, which wasn’t unheard of, but it felt wrong. The windows were shut too, which You never did—You always keep them open to let in the ocean breeze.

You called out for JJ, expecting his usual shout back, but there was just… silence. You brushed it off. Maybe he was out on the boat or glued to his video games.

You dropped your bag by the door and walked inside, calling his name again. That’s when you saw him.

Luke.

He looked even worse than before—disheveled, eyes bloodshot, reeking of alcohol. He’d been gone for a year. No calls, no messages. JJ and you paid him off, made sure he left the island, but here he was, standing in your living room like he belonged.

“You shouldn’t be here,” You managed, trying to sound stronger than you felt.

He laughed, this dark, hollow sound that made your skin crawl. “Just came to see my kids. That so wrong?”

Liar. You knew what he really wanted. “You need to leave. Now.”

His face twisted, the smirk gone. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“Watch me. Get out.”

He took a step back, hands up like he was surrendering. “I just need a little loan.”

You gripped the doorframe tighter. “No. You need to go. For good.”

He took a step back, raising his hands in mock surrender, “I just need a little loan.”

You tightened your grip on the edge of the doorframe, “No. You need to go, for good.”

For a second, you thought he’d listen, but then he took a step forward, and you could smell the alcohol on his breath.

“I’m not leaving without what I came for.”

“I don’t care,” You snapped, “Get your ass out of my house before I call the cops.”

“This is my house!” He all but screamed, the veins in his neck visible.

“Not anymore,” Your heart pounded in your chest, and every fiber of your being screamed for JJ, wishing he was here, “I’m not afraid of you,” you said, more to convince yourself than him.

He took another step forward, his face twisted in anger. “You always were a stubborn little brat.”

“And you’re a piece of shit.”

He lunged.

You barely dodged him, stumbling back into the living room. “Stay away from me!” You shouted, frantically searching for something, anything to defend myself.

Luke laughed again, that same twisted, hollow sound, and came at you. This time, he grabbed your arm, his grip painfully tight. You raised your other arm to block him, instincts kicking in.

“Stay away from me!” you shouted, frantically searching for something, anything to defend yourself.

“You little bitch,” he snarled, shoving you against the wall. The impact knocked the breath out of you, but you stayed focused.

You couldn’t let him win. Not again.

“You’re gonna give me what I want,” he hissed, his breath hot and disgusting.

“No, I’m not,” you spat back, summoning every ounce of courage you had.

With your free hand, you the grabbed the nearest thing—Mom’s old lamp—and swung it at him. The base cracked against his head, and he stumbled back, cursing.

“Bitch!” he roared, blood running down his face. It only made him angrier. He rushed you, knocking the lamp out of your hand, pinning you to the floor.

You were panicking, resorting to kicking and thrashing, doing anything to try to throw him off. “Get off me!” you screamed, clawing at his face.

His hand came down hard across your cheek, blurring your vision. “You really think you can fight me?”

He wrapped his hands around your throat, squeezing. Gasping for air, you remembred that you’d been here too many times. Your hand groped blindly on the floor, finding a heavy candlestick.

With the last of your strength, you swung it with everything you had, hitting him square in the head.

His grip loosened, and you scrambled to your feet, panting as he slumped to the side, groaning in pain.He groaned, trying to get up, but you hit him again. Harder this time. He collapsed, blood pooling around him. You stood over him, breathing heavy, barely processing what you'd just done.

But then, he stirred. He reached for your ankle.

You stumbled back, “Stay down goddamit!” you shouted, raising the candlestick again.

Luke pushed himself up, eyes wild with rage. “You’re gonna pay for that,” he spat, lunging at you again.

This time, you were ready.

As he reached for you, you twisted to the side, driving your knee into his stomach. He grunted, doubling over, and you brought your elbow down on his nose. It cracked. He roared, grabbing blindly at you.

You ducked and shoved a chair between you both, but he kicked it aside. It bought you just enough time to reach the kitchen. You grabbed the first thing yousaw—a cast-iron skillet.

He staggered into the kitchen after you, blood and sweat on his face.

“You just had to put up a fight, huh? Just like her.”

“Stay back,” you warned, gripping the skillet like your life depended on it. “I’ll fucking do it.”

Luke laughed, this sick, deranged sound that made your stomach churn. Then he lunged. Without thinking, you swung the skillet as hard as you could, the impact vibrating through your whole arm as it connected with his shoulder. He staggered, but you didn’t stop. You swung again, this time aiming for his head. The sound of the skillet hitting his temple echoed through the room. He collapsed, finally still.

Oh fuck.

For a moment, the house was deathly silent.

You dropped the skillet, your hands trembling.

Kneeling down, you checked for a pulse. It was faint, but there. Relief and horror flooded through you simultaneously. You almost killed him. There was blood everywhere—on the carpet, on the candlestick, on your hands.

You stumbled back, your mind spinning out of control. What if he dies? What if you actually killed him? This wasn’t supposed to happen. You just wanted him gone. Out of your life. Forever.

Your hands were trembling as you fumbled for your phone. You couldn’t think straight, your heart racing as you scrolled through your contacts. The names blurred through your tears. You needed help, but you couldn’t call JJ—he wasn’t here. And you couldn’t call the cops. Not yet. You weren’t ready for all of this.

Without fully realizing it, your finger landed on a contact you hadn’t called ever before. Your hands moved on autopilot, and the phone was already ringing. You kept your eyes on Luke, praying he wouldn’t move. The phone rang for what felt like an eternity.The phone rang, and you kept an eye on Luke, praying he wouldn’t move. It rang for only ten seconds, but it felt like an eternity.

“Maybank?”

“Rafe?” Your voice broke, the word barely making it out before a sob tore through your chest.

There was a brief pause, and then his voice came through, “Hey, hey. What's wrong? Are you okay?”

But you couldn't speak. Hearing his voice after all this time, after everything that had happened, it was too much. The fear, the relief, the chaos, all of it came crashing down, and your breath hitched.

You couldn’t think.

“Hey! Are you there? Talk to me!” Rafe's voice grew more urgent.

You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat, a sob escaping instead. Your knees gave out, and you sank to the floor, the phone slipping slightly in your grasp. You could barely breathe.

“Where are you?!”

You focused on his words, trying to match your breath to his timbre.

In. Out. In. Out. It helped, if only a little. The shaking in your hands lessened, but the fear never disappeared.

“I think... I think I killed my dad.”

You looked at the bloodstained carpet, the unconscious body of your father still lying there. The words felt foreign on your tongue, like someone else was speaking for you.

“Are you home? Are you safe?”

“I’m home,” you whispered, “JJ’s not here. I don’t know where he is.”

“I’m coming,” Rafe said, no hesitation in his voice. “Stay there. Don’t touch anything. I’ll be there soon.”

“Rafe—” You began, but he cut you off.

“I’ll be there soon. Just hang on, okay?”

The minutes ticked by, and you found yourself staring at the door, willing Rafe to appear. This wasn’t you. You didn’t hurt people. You just wanted peace. Why did it always end like this? What were you going to do? How were you going to live with yourself if Luke died?

Why did things never work out the way you wanted them to?

Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, you heard the sound of a car pulling up outside. Moments later, the door burst open, and there he was.

“Maybank?”

He called out for you as he stepped inside.

Seconds later, he was standing in front of you, scanning the room, analyzing the scene. He rushed to your side, pulling you into his arms without hesitation. 

“It’s okay. I’m here. You’re gonna be okay.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple as he guided you away from the scene, his eyes lingering briefly on your father’s motionless figure.

“What happened?” He asked softly, leading you to sit on the couch. 

“He just showed up out of nowhere. He wanted money. I told him to leave, but he wouldn’t. He got violent, and I... “

“It’s okay.”

His warmth helped. But guilt? It stayed. The blood on your hands—it all felt surreal, like a nightmare you couldn't wake up from.

“Have you called 911?”

You shook your head, lips trembling as you tried not to cry.

“Do you want me to?”

The thought of police cars and paramedics filling the house, made your stomach churn. The fear of what might happen if Luke woke up, or if he didn't, paralyzed you. It took you a second to realize he already had his phone out, pressed to his ear.

"I need an ambulance.”

He stayed on the line with the dispatcher, giving them your address and the details. Your ears were ringing, unable to make out exactly what he was saying. 

"They're on their way," he reassured softly. "It’s gonna be okay."

You nodded, but you weren’t sure you believed it.

"They'll take him to the hospital," He murmured, more to himself than anyone else. "He'll get the help he needs."

"I... I didn't mean to..." you finally managed to whisper, your voice trembling.

Rafe’s hands griped yours, despite the blood coating it, "I know.”

The minutes felt like hours as you waited for the ambulance. You just wanted it to be over.

When the paramedics finally arrived, Rafe guided them to Luke's unconscious form while you sat numbly on the couch. They immediately went to work, assessing his condition and preparing him for transport. Police officers soon followed, asking questions, and taking statements. Rafe handled most of the interaction, protecting you from the brunt of their interrogations. After what felt like an eternity, they finally moved Luke onto a stretcher and carried him out of the house. He followed them to the door, speaking briefly with one of the paramedics before they loaded Luke into the ambulance and drove away.

He kneeled in front of you, “You can’t say here, okay? They called JJ, he’s on the mainland, but he’ll take the first ferry down here tomorrow.”

You nodded, feeling drained.

"Come on," Rafe urged, helping you to your feet. "Let's get you out of here."

He guided you out of the house and into his truck, the engine already running. The drive was quiet, the only sound being the hum of the engine and the occasional sniffle from you.

Rafe reached over, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. You slumped back in the plush seat, eyes closed, trying to steady your breathing, too embarrassed to look at him.

“I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

You didn't even register where you were headed until the truck pulled to a stop. When you finally opened your eyes, you realized you were at Rafe’s place.

Tanneyhill.

It felt odd, being there, and under such circumstances. He helped you out of the truck, guiding you inside with a protective arm around your waist.

"Sit down," he said gently, leading you to the living room. "I'll get you some water."

You sank into the expensive couch, feeling the soft cushions envelop you. It was weird sitting in his home after everything that had happened.

He returned quickly with a glass of water, pressing it into your trembling hands.

"Drink," he instructed, sitting beside you.

You took a small sip, the cool water soothing your dry throat. Rafe watched you closely.

"You need to rest," he said. "I’ll be right here."

"But I—"

"You need to rest," he repeated firmly, "We can talk more in the morning.”

There was a part of you that wanted to argue, to insist that you were fine, that you didn’t need his help. You’d done this for years, alone. And yet, here he was, offering you help. Maybe it was the exhaustion, maybe you just missed him, but for once in your life, you didn’t fight him. 

You nodded, letting him take you upstairs.

"Let's get you cleaned up," he said, noticing the blood still on your skin and clothes. "You can’t go to bed like this."

At this point, you were too tired to speak, simply following his instructions as he guided to the bathroom.

"Here," he turned on the shower and adjusting the temperature. "Take your time. I'll leave some clean clothes for you right outside the door."

You slipped into the bathroom and shut the door behind you. The sound of the water running felt comforting, like a tiny slice of normalcy in the middle of this mess. Your hands shook a little as you peeled off your clothes, your shorts sticking to your skin. The sight of the dried blood on your hands and shirt almost broke you all over again. This couldn't be real.

You just stood there for a while, letting the heat work its way into your muscles. Eyes closed, you tried to block out the image of your dad lying there on the floor. Slowly, you started scrubbing your skin, trying to wash away every trace of what had just happened. The soap smelled like lavender, and for a split second, you smiled—this was Rafe’s scent. You recognized it from earlier when he hugged you. Somehow, that tiny detail grounded you, pulling you back to the present.

By the time you stepped out and wrapped yourself in a fluffy towel, you felt slightly more like yourself.

Outside the door, Rafe had left you some clothes: his sweatpants, a t-shirt, and boxers—like he said he would. They were a little too big, but warm and soft, like a hug. And, well, they were Rafe’s. That felt oddly comforting.

You opened the bathroom door to find him waiting in the hallway. He seemed relieved to see you and you hated yourself for making him worry so bad.

"Feeling better?" 

"A little," you admitted. "Thank you."

He nodded, then motioned for you to follow. "Come on, let's get you to bed."

He led you to a guest room, the bed already made with fresh sheets. It looked so inviting, you almost forgot everything that happened tonight. Almost.

“Sit here,” he said, gesturing to the edge of the bed. He disappeared for a second and came back with a first-aid kit. Kneeling in front of you, he gently took your hands in his. “Lemme see.”

Your hands were scratched up and bruised, still carrying the marks from your dad. You hesitated but then slowly extended them to Rafe.

“This might sting a little,” he said softly, wiping the cuts with antiseptic. You winced but didn’t make a sound. He noticed though, his brows furrowing in concern. “I’m sorry."

"’M used to it. It’s okay,” You nodded, biting your lip as he cleaned the wound. 

The antiseptic burned, but you focused on Rafe’s face, the way his brow furrowed in concentration, the softness in his eyes as he wrapped your hand with practiced care. 

“I didn’t want to drag you into my mess.”

Rafe paused, his hands stilling for a moment.

“You’re not a mess.”

You let out a short, dry laugh. “Right.”

His fingers continued their work, securing the bandage with gentle precision. “I mean it.”

His tone was so final, like there wasn’t even room for doubt.

“Why—Why did you pick up the phone?”

“You know why.”

His answer made your heart hurt, the kind of hurt that came from months of trying to keep your distance. But he wasn’t budging, and that did something to you. When he finished wrapping your hands, he set them gently in your lap. “All done.”

You sank into the mattress as he pulled the blankets over you and ssomething about it felt so foreign and so… nice. No one ever took care of you like this.

“C-Can you stay here?”

He paused, adjusting the pillows, clearly debating with himself. “I don’t think—”

“Please.”

Without saying anything, Rafe slipped off his shoes and climbed into bed next to you. He pulled you into his arms, and instantly, everything felt a little less terrifying. His warmth, the steady rhythm of his breathing, the faint scent of lavender—it all made you feel safe, like maybe you could finally let go.

"It's okay. I'm here. You're safe."

You buried your face in his chest, tears finally spilling over, but this time they weren’t from fear. They were from relief. From release. Rafe held you tighter, his hands gently rubbing your back in soothing circles. He didn’t say anything more. He didn’t need to. He just held you, and that was enough. The minutes passed and your breathing synced with his, your body finally relaxing for the first time in what felt like forever. The tension started to melt away, and before you knew it, your eyelids were getting heavy.

"Thank you," Your voice was muffled against his chest. "For everything."

He pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Sleep.”

You snuggled closer to him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest, and for the first time in a long time, you felt at home.

When you woke up the next morning, Rafe was gone. The bed next to you was cold, but the events of last night still pushed heavy on your chest. You sat up, your heart dropping to the floor as you realized the nightmare wasn’t over. The bloodstained clothes on the floor, the hollow feeling in your chest—it was all real.

You felt an immense amount of guilt as you remembered how you had leaned on him for support after you cut him out of your life. He had enough going on with his own family, his own problems. And now you’d dragged him into yours.

You rolled out of bed, Rafe's oversized sweatpants and t-shirt practically swallowing you whole. You had no idea where he went, so you headed toward the door, ears perked for any clue. As you walked down the hallway, you heard voices coming from the kitchen—well, Rafe’s voice, specifically, speaking in a low hushed tone.

You hesitated for a moment, your curiosity getting the better of you. Slowly, you made your way towards the kitchen, the sound of his voice growing clearer with each step.

“…I don’t care what it fucking takes,” Rafe all but spat, his tone filled with determination. “Yeah, I know the charges will stick. Just make sure he doesn’t get out on bail. I don’t want him anywhere near her again.”

You froze mid-step. What?

He paused, listening intently. You took another step closer, peering around the corner to see him standing by the counter, his phone pressed to his ear.

“No, she’s fine,” he continued, “But I want to make sure she stays that way.”

You felt your breath hitch. Oh my god. He was talking about your dad. He was trying to protect you, even now.

“Rafe…” 

He turned around, his eyes widening as he saw you standing there.

“I’ll call you later.” He hung up fast, slipping his phone into his pocket, trying (and failing) to act casual. “Hey, you’re up.”

“What were you doing?” You asked, arms crossed. “Who were you talking to?”

“Hmm?”

“Rafe,” You warned, too tired to play games, “Who were you talking to?”

He sighed, looking impossibly uncomfortable as you sized him up.

“My lawyer. Getting a restraining order for you.”

The confirmation nearly made your brain split into two.

“What?”

Rafe hesitated, knowing he couldn't hide the truth from you. Not that he even tried lately. He ran a hand through his buzzed hair, a gesture you recognized as a sign of his unease. 

"I'm trying to get a restraining order against your father."

"Why?"

“Why?”

His eyes met yours, so serious. “Because you need one.”

You stood there, completely thrown. He was really doing this—for you? He was going to bat for you, putting himself in the line of fire to protect you from the man who had haunted your life for so long. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you didn’t even try to stop them.

“I’m sorry.”

"Stop saying that," He rubbed his hand over his face like he didn’t know what else to do, "What happened last night… it’s not something you should ever have to deal with. I should’ve been here sooner. I should’ve—"

“You couldn’t have known.”

Rafe shook his head, "I should've been here.”

You walked closer, closing the distance between you. "Rafe, you don't owe me anything."

He reached out tentatively, his hand hovering in the air for a moment before he gently cupped your cheek. His touch was familiar, comforting and you leaned into it, closing your eyes briefly.

"I owe you everything," he murmured. 

You let out a shaky breath, “Don’t say that.”

But he wouldn’t let it go. He tilted your face up, thumb brushing away a tear. “You think I’d be there if it wasn’t for you? Shit—Pretty, look around. It’s just me.”

Your heart pounded in your ribcage, the sincerity in his tone making it hard to breathe. You had spent so long building up walls around your heart, convincing yourself that you didn’t need anyone, that you could handle everything on your own.

“You’ve been alone?” You all but sob, “You’ve been here all this time? By yourself?”

Rafe’s jaw tightened, “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry,” His hand on your cheek trembled slightly, “I’m okay, see?”

You covered his hand with yours. “I was so mad at you,” You admitted.

“Baby—”

“You don’t understand,” you explained, voice cracking slightly, “I just... I didn’t know what to do.”

He drew you closer, his other arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you against him. You melted into him instantly. 

"I deserved it,” Rafe muttered, trying to laugh but failing.

You shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks, "You told me you were getting clean, that you were seeing a psychologist, and I-I wasn’t there.”

Rafe’s grip on your hand tightened, his eyes pleading with you to understand. “I was a train wreck, and I hurt you. You needed to protect yourself.”

“But I should’ve been there for you,” you insisted, your voice breaking. “You were trying to get better, and I just...walked away.”

“Jesus Christ Maybank” He let out a breathy laugh, almost like he didn’t know how to handle the conversation.. “Stop the waterfloods, you’re gonna make me cry.”

“Shut up,” I sniffled, laughing through the tears. “I’m trying to apologize—”

“You don’t have to, baby,” He cut you off, shaking his head, “Not to me, or anyone else.”

His breath mingled with yours, his presence soothing you in a way you hadn’t felt in months.

Your heart pounded in your chest as he closed the distance, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, hesitant kiss. It was as if he was testing the waters, ensuring you were okay with this, and when you didn’t pull away, the kiss deepened. His hand moved to the back of your neck, holding you gently but firmly as his lips explored yours.

You felt yourself give in to him, your hands gripping his shirt to make sure he was real. You’d dreamed about him for too damn long to understand the difference. The kiss was slow, deliberate…loving.

When you finally broke apart, gasping for air, Rafe rested his forehead against yours, breath ragged.

“Can’t believe you made me fall in love with a pogue.”

Oh.

You blinked, caught off guard.

“In love?”

He bit his lip, looking nervous all of a sudden. “Yeah.”

You could see the anxiety roaring inside him. The way his shoulders seemed to squeeze back in, eyes dropping to your lips. 

You smiled, brushing yours fingers against his cheek. “Never thought I’d fall for a kook.”

Rafe groaned, dropping his head onto your shoulder, teeth grazing against your skin, “Don’t play with me.”

“I’m not,” You whispered, tilting his chin up so he had to look at you. “I mean it."

His eyes examined yours for a long moment as if confirming your words. Then, without even saying anything, he closed the distance between you again. This time, no hesitation. None of that uncertainty from before.

His hands roamed over your body, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t get enough. The kiss was so different from the one before. You could feel the heat building between you, that undeniable chemistry pulling you together.

His hands slipped under your shirt, his shirt, the touch of his fingertips on your bare skin sending shivers down your spine. Rafe’s lips trailed down your neck, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin there, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You gasped, tilting your head to give him better access. His hands were everywhere, exploring, caressing, making you dizzy with need.

“I need you,” your voice came out all breathless, your fingers clutching his shoulders.

He stopped for a second, lifting his head to look at you, those blue eyes dark with desire.

“You’re hurt,” he muttered, swallowing hard. “Last night—”

“I don’t care,” you replied, shaking your head. “You fucked me after I got shot.”

“That night was different. We were different.”

You nodded, the memory flashing in your mind. The urgency, the desperation, how you clung to each other like you were drowning.

He hesitated for a split second longer, his thumb brushing over the bruise on your cheek. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“You won’t,” you promised, pulling him back to you. “I trust you.”

That was all he needed. His restraint melted away, and he kissed you like he couldn’t help himself, lifting you easily and carrying you upstairs. When he laid you down on the bed, it was so gentle, like you were the most precious thing to him.

Rafe hovered over you, his eyes locked on yours as he stripped off his shirt. Your hands traced the lines of his muscles, loving the way they moved under your touch. He leaned down, capturing your lips in another kiss, hot and deep, as his hands started unbuttoning your shirt.

Everything blurred after that—clothes disappearing, just the two of you, skin to skin. His hands, his lips, everywhere.

“Do you know how much I missed you?” he murmured.

You smiled, cupping his face, “Tell me.”

Rafe’s breath hitched, “Every damn day. Every fucking minute. I’d close my eyes and all I could see was you.”

His voice faded, but his hands kept moving, tracing soft patterns along your sides. He was rediscovering you, like it had been forever.

You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer. “I’m here now.”

Rafe smiled against your skin, his hands sliding down to grip your hips, holding you steady. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked again.

You nodded, pressing a kiss to his jaw, “More than okay. I want this. I want you.”

His kisses trailed down your neck, slow and deliberate. “I love the way you laugh,” he whispered against your skin, his lips brushing your collarbone. “How your eyes light up when you talk about something you care about. How strong you are, even when you don’t see it.”

You shivered at his words, your heart swelling with love for the man holding you so tenderly. "Rafe..."

He kissed your lips softly, silencing you.

"I love the way you look at me," he continued, his hands slipping under your shirt, caressing the bare skin beneath. "Like I'm the only person in the world. Like I matter."

You could feel tears welling up in your eyes, overwhelmed by the intensity of his words, his touch.

"You do matter," you whispered, your voice breaking. “You matter to me.”

Rafe's hands moved lower, teasing the waistband of your, his, boxers.

“I love how brave you are," he said, his voice husky, "How you face everything, even when it's terrifying." He slid them down, eyes never leaving yours. “Last night… I was terrified. I thought I was gonna lose you.”

You reached for him, fingers tangling in his grown-out hair, pulling him closer. “I’m right here,” you whispered, lips brushing his. “Right here.”

Rafe's hands found your hips, his touch firm and reassuring. "I love you," he said again,  "And I need you to know that. Shit, I need you to feel it."

You nodded, tears streaming down your cheeks. "I do. I feel it."

He kissed you again, this time with an urgency that made your heart race against your ribs. His lips, his hands, everything about him was showing you just how much you meant to him. You could feel him holding back though, his body tense under your hands. You trailed your fingers down his back, feeling every inch of him, and it wasn’t long before he pressed against you, letting you feel just how much he wanted this too.

His lips found your breasts, kissing and teasing, his hands caressing your sides, your hips. You moaned, arching into his touch, your body trembling with need. "Rafe..."

He looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire, "I love the way you say my name. Like it's the only word that matters." He kissed his way down your stomach, his hands sliding lower, teasing you, driving you wild with anticipation. "I love the way you taste," he breathed, hot against your skin. "The way you feel."

You gasped, your body arching off the bed as his fingers found you, teasing, exploring. 

"Rafe, please..."

He kissed his way back up your body, "I've got you. I'm here. Tell me if you want me to stop."

You shook your head, urging him on. "Don't stop.”

He kissed your hip bones, his hands gently spreading your legs wider. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, and the intensity in them made your breath catch. He moved lower, his lips trailing down your inner thigh, his fingers lightly caressing your other leg.

When his mouth finally reached your pussy, you gasped, your body arching off the bed. His tongue flicked out, teasing you, tasting you.The sensation was electric, sending jolts of pleasure through you. Fuck you missed this. His grip on your thighs tightened, holding you in place as he continued his slow, deliberate assault.

He explored you with his tongue, each movement precise,intentional. He found a rhythm that made your head spin, alternating between gentle flicks and firm strokes. You moaned, your fingers tightening in his short strands, pulling him closer, needing more.

Rafe responded to your silent plea, his tongue delving deeper, his hands gripping your thighs harder, fingernails digging into your skin.

The pressure built, an overwhelming pleasure that threatened to consume you whole. He groaned against you, the vibration sending you even higher.

"Mmm," you gasped, your breath coming in short, desperate bursts. "Don't stop. P-Please, don't stop."

He didn't.

He increased his pace, his tongue moving faster, his hands sliding under your hips, lifting you slightly to give him better access. You could feel the heat pooling in your core, the pleasure building to an unbearable peak. Rafe’s mouth never left you, his tongue driving you to the brink. You cried out his name, your body trembling as you teetered on the edge. He sucked gently, his tongue flicking rapidly, and that was all it took. You shattered, not a wave, but an entire fuckcking ocean of ecstasy crashing over you, your vision going white as the pleasure consumed you. He continued his ministrations, guiding you through your orgasm, his tongue and lips never slowing, drawing out every last bit of pleasure.

When you finally came down, your body spent and trembling, Rafe kissed his way back up your body, his hands soothing the aftershocks with gentle caresses.

He hovered over you, his lips capturing yours in a deep, passionate kiss. You could taste yourself on him, the intimacy of it making your heart swell.

"My perfect girl," he growled against your lips.

Your bruised hands roamed over his broad shoulders, feeling the tension in his muscles, he shifted, pressing his hips against yours, letting you feel his arousal. You moaned into his mouth, your hands moving lower, wanting to touch him, to feel him inside you.

Rafe’s breath hitched as your fingers brushed against the waistband of his boxers, teasing him.

“Are you sure?” he asked one more time, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I’ve never been more sure,” you answered, and that was it.

He cared so much it nearly sent you into an emotional spiral again.

In one swift motion, he shed his boxers, and you took in the sight of him, hard and ready. He moved over you, positioning himself between your legs, his eyes never leaving yours. He took his time, teasing you with his fingers, making sure you were ready for him.

You gasped at the feeling—God, you missed him. Every inch of him.

He paused, forehead resting against yours, giving you a moment to adjust. “Fuck, I missed this,” he groaned, his voice strained.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him to move. “Don’t hold back,” you whispered, almost begging. “I want all of you.”

Rafe didn't need further encouragement.

He started moving, slow at first, but each roll of his hips had you feeling like you were losing it. Every time he pushed deeper, you swore you could feel him in your bones. Your nails dug into his back, leaving marks that you knew would be there tomorrow, but right now? You didn’t care. You just needed to feel closer to him.

His kiss was intense—like he was pouring everything into it, his tongue matching the rhythm of his hips, making your whole body shiver. His hands were all over you, one sliding under your back to pull you even closer, the other tangling in your hair, keeping you exactly where he wanted. You moved with him, your bodies syncing up like you’d never been apart.

Rafe’s pace picked up, and you could tell he was losing control, his thrusts coming faster, harder. And then, his voice, low and rough, sent a chill straight through you.

“Don’t stop, baby. Fuck—don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” he growled, his words barely audible between breaths. “Never.”

That was it—he completely let go, moving even harder, like he couldn’t get enough of you. The sound of your bodies crashing together, the moans and gasps—it was all so intense.

You didn’t understand the sudden urge, but suddenly, without even thinking, you pushed at his chest, flipping him onto his back.

“Your turn,” you whispered, climbing on top of him, straddling him. He looked up at you, a little surprised, but the way his hands landed on your hips made it clear he was all in. And God, you’d never seen him look so good.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, his hands sliding up your sides, cupping your breasts gently. “Every part of you."

You leaned down, brushing your lips against his stubbled jaw. That roughness on your skin sent a rush through you, especially when you felt him brushing against you just right. You let out a soft moan, then pulled back, grinding down on him. The way his eyes darkened, the way his fingers tightened on your hips, it was like you were driving him wild.

“You like that?” you teased, your voice low, your fingers running down his chest.

“Fuck, yes,” he groaned, gripping you harder. “You feel incredible.”

You reached between you, guiding him back inside, both of you gasping at the sensation. You started moving, slow at first, taking your time with it, loving the way he filled you.

Rafe’s hands were everywhere, caressing you, teasing you, making you lose it a little more with every touch. “God, you’re perfect,” he murmured, his eyes locked on yours. “Ride me, baby. I wanna see you come again.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, spurring you on. You increased your pace, rolling your hips, finding the angle that drove you both to the edge. Your hands braced against his chest, your nails digging into his skin as you rode him harder, faster.

“Fuck, Rafe,” you gasped, your breath coming in short, desperate bursts. “You feel so good inside me.”

He groaned, “You can’t be real,” his hands guided your hips, urging you to move faster. “This can’t be real—Shit, keep doing that.”

The pleasure built with every movement, your bodies moving together like they never parted.

You could feel the heat pooling in your core, the tension building, ready to snap. Rafe’s hands slid up to your breasts, teasing your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure through you.

“Come for me, baby,” Rafe urged, his voice rough with desire. “I want to feel you come around me.”

His words pushed you over. You cried out, your body arching, your vision going white as the orgasm crashed over you. Rafe groaned, his hips thrusting up to meet yours as he followed you, his release filling you, pretty hisses and groans filling your ears.

You collapsed on top of him, both of you completely spent, still trying to catch your breath. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close, and you buried your face in his neck, overwhelmed by how intense everything felt.

When you looked up, the way he was staring at you caught you off guard. There was this softness, this disbelief in his expression, like he was seeing you for the first time.

"What?" you asked softly, a smile tugging at your lips despite the slight confusion.

He blinked, like he was snapping out of it, then gently traced your cheekbone with his fingers.

“I just… I can’t believe you’re real.”

“Rafe…”

He silenced you with a soft kiss, his lips barely brushing yours, but it sent a wave of warmth through you.

“I love you,” he whispered.

You smiled, heart full. “I love you too.”

[madebyrolo]

Beach date

Rafe Cameron x Reader

She/her

one shot / fluff

summary: “VICTOR, YOU ACTUALLY DID THIS!?” Type fic.

Obx masterlist

┗ •◦இ•◦ ┛

I was sitting on my bed scrolling through TikTok when Rafe texted me.

“Be ready I’m picking you up at 6.”

“And for what can I ask?” I responded

“It’s a surprise peach”

Rafe came up with that nickname when I was over one day and I accidentally drank the rest of his peach juice.

“Okay okay see you then :)”

With the time being 5:38, I get up and put on denim skirt and white halter top with little blue flowers on it. I grab my Uggs cause they’re cute and comfy and I put my vanilla perfume. I get my purse and make sure my lip gloss is in it and soon I get the text that my bae has arrived. I love calling Rafe bae cause he hates it.

“Mom I’ll be back, I’m going out with rafe!” I call out from the stairs.

“Okay honey, be home before 10 please!” She calls out from her office.

She absolutely loves Rafe and luckily she trust me and him enough to let me out without asking anything. And with her having my location on 24/7

I shut the door behind me and I walk to the black truck in my driveway. I see Rafe standing right by the passenger door with his dopey smile plastered across his face.

“Hey dream boat” I say walking up to him placing a small kiss on his lips.

“Hey hey? That wasn’t a kiss come one give daddy a real one.” Rafe said earning a laugh from me before pulling me in by the waist completely smashing his lips on mine.

“That was sweet but you’re eating me Rafe.” I joke with him.

“Oh so with that hurtful joke, I don’t think you deserve these.” He said grabbing a bouquet from inside the car.

“Rafe, you didn’t oh my god they’re beautiful!” I saw grabbing them from him and smelling them.

It was a mix of blue hydrangeas with lilies and mums with the perfect amount of greenery . They smelt amazing, like peace which I loved about flowers.

“Blue like my eyes so you think about me every time you look at them.” He somewhat joked.

“I always do Rafe.” I say before planting a small cute long kiss on him.

“Now come on, I’m dying to know what you’ve planned.” I say adjusting the collar of his white dress shirt.

“Okay peach get in.” he said opening the door and letting me in.

After a 15 minutes drive with a quick pit stop for a pizza at dominos, we finally made it. We stopped by the beach putting the car in park and once again opening the door for me.

“What are we doing at the beach? I didn’t bring a suit.” I say while he grabs my hand leading up to the sand.

“We’re not gonna for a swim.” he said.

“You should’ve mentioned the beach, I wouldn’t have picked these Uggs Rafe.” I tell him.

“You know Uggs were actually meant for the beach? They were for surfers” he explains.

“Do I look like a surfer?” I complain.

“Hey I got you to stand in the board once!” He nudged me

After a short walk we are greeted with a blanket that had a basket with lemonade and other goodies. There was 2 easels and some paint supplies along with more flowers.

“Happy date night!” Rafe said as let put down the pizza.

“Rafe this is so cute!” I say as I sit down in the blanket and look at everything he got.

“I did this all myself, thought we deserved a nice cute date to end off the summer.” Rafe said sitting next to me.

“Rafe this is perfect. Thank you.” I said hugging him.

“I got us some paints so we can do a little couples art maybe and some extra canvas for fun but mainly cause I know I’ll mess up.” He joked bringing out all the colors.

“You’re actually the best boyfriend ever Rafe.”

“I know I know. You can pay he back later.” he said with a wink as you nudge him.

“Okay give me a plate I want pizza.”

After your small dinner and some laughs shared with Rafe you finally get to the painting.

“Okay so we can do thumb prints, handprints, kisses, little things that represent us,” Rafe listed ideas as he scroll through Pinterest.

“Let’s do a handprints, something easy and then maybe we can cover it in sand to reminds of us this little beach date.” You offered

“Yeah I like that” he kissed your nose.

“Alright so many kisses today I think you just did this to get some.”

“No no I actually did this for us, but that’s just a perk” Rafe gave another kiss but on your neck and started going down.

“Okay okay! Let’s get to painting!” You giggled due to the friction of his warm lips on your skin.

As you guys finally decided on a paint color which took absolutely forever because Rafe wanted to do blue to match his eyes (once again) but you wanted a sage green because it was nice and calming which was a perfect way to describe this date. Certainly not this relationship yk how Rafe is.

“Okay your hand first cause it’s giant” you as you painted his hand a dark green.

“Hey you love these hands, especially these finger-”

“OKAY. So place it straight don’t make it crooked.” You guide his onto the canvas

“I can do it myself I’m a big boy okay y/n” he said placing his own hand down.

“Okay leave it there for a couple of seconds to get a good print.” You order.

You grab a lighter green to match his and paint your hand. The ticklish feelings and smell remind you of elementary, and the one time Jayj ate paint (not as a dare.)

“Oh that’s a cute color” Rafe said as you put the paint back.

“Okay you can take your hand off now. Longer you keep it, it’s probably gonna dry on there.” You joked.

“Don’t make it crooked.” He said as he grabbed your hand placing it down on the canvas on top if his.

After a couple of seconds you take it off and see the perfect imprints of you and Rafe.

“Aww it’s so cute!” You commented

“Oh now we have to make another, I’m gonna want one too.” He said admiring your art work.

“Here you go.” he said handing you a cup of sand

You sprinkle the sand ontop of the paint making sure to put enough then shaking the rest off.

“Okay now while this drys I wanna paint another.” you say grabbing another canvas.

You decide to paint a turtle on the beach. Turtles are your second animal cause they’re just so darn cute. As you paint, Rafe also decides to paint whatever he is. He has an assortment of colors and he’s just in his own world. As you watch him you can’t help but notice how his tounge pokes the inside of this cheek as he concentrates.

After 20 minutes, you finally have finished yours projects.

“Okay on, one…two…three!” You count down and flip your canvas.

“Oh thanks cute!” Rafe says and you stare as his… maybe pizza?

“Nice…I don’t even know. Rafe what is that?” You say confused.

“It’s a boat!” He says excited.

“Look it’s me and you!” He points to small blobs

“Oh I thought those were olives…”

“Y/n…” he says with a pout.

“Oh come on it’s cute!!!” You say trying to make him feel better.

“Maybe you should just keep to gallery walks instead of making the art…” you pat his shoulder as you both stare as his “boat”

“Your turtles are so good but look at my boat.”

“Rafe calm down it’s fine beside you can always buy classes.”

“But you’re a natural! It’s unfair.”

“Rafe quit it, besides you’re better at other things than me!” You try to cheer him up.

“Like what?”

“Golf”

“Wow lousy golf. Topper is the king let’s face it.”

“Whatever who cares he got cheated on.” You managed to crack a smile from him.

“Beside, you’re an absolutely an amazing boyfriend. My boyfriend.” He turns to look at you.

“Look at this amazing date you planed. And set up all by yourself too. Gotta give yourself props.” You give him a hug.

“Yeah I’m a pretty good man..” he said playfully rolling his eyes.

“My man.”

You guys share another slow and passionate kiss.

“Come on let’s clean this up. You can spend the night at mine.” You offer as you began to throw things into the basket.

“Okay good, I already told my dad I was.” He said as he grabbed the trash and threw it in a bag.

As you guys drive home you play your oldies playlists. You singing along while Rafe learns new songs.

Soon you guys make it to your house. Rafe parks the car and you guys make your way to the front door with him holding the insane amount of followers.

“Wait we never made my painting” Rafe stopped in his tracks.

“Here you can have the hands, I’ll take your pizza boat.” You say handing him his.

“Guess we have to have another date night to make another !! Ugh!” You said sarcastically.

“What a bore.” Rafe plays along.

You guys reach upstairs. Taking a joint shower because Rafe kept insisting on taking one first but you were too tired to wait. You both got the amazing date night, and hot and steamy sex.

┗ •◦இ•◦ ┛

Came out of hibernation and finally wrote 😩

Sorry for any typos I got too lazy.

Love me some soft Rafe 💁🏽‍♀️

[f0rlorn]

days spent in the sun → treech

a/n → making coral’s moodboard sent me into a spiral and now i have moodboards for every district 😭 is it worth it to post?

notes → in which nature is the perfect place for treech to show his love for you. feminine intended reader (though not sure pronouns are mentioned)

warnings → not edited & upload via iphone

     your hands were wrapped around treech’s arm as he carefully lifted his axe up to the tree, beginning to carve the shape of a heart. he was prudent in his work, meticulously shaving the bark off of the tree from inside the shape he had formed. you watched him silently, in awe of his handiwork. the result was a perfect heart shaped carving, permanently engraved on the tree. beaming, you pressed a quick peck to the boy’s cheek, then pulled him along with you as you walked atop a tree trunk bridge back to the lake. currently, the two of you were clad only in your undergarments, having gone out with the intention of swimming for the whole day. your clothes were strewn over the branch of a fallen oak, basking in the sun. the water was freezing, a stark contrast to the midsummer heat that lingered in the air. treech held your hand as you stepped in, prepared to catch you if you accidentally slipped. at first, you sunk into the shallow water leisurely, but as the water reached your hips, you let go of treech’s hand, completely submerging yourself in order to get used to the temperature. as you arose, your teeth chattered, but a grin was still plastered on your face.

     “get in, the water’s great!” you invited treech to join you with a sarcastic remark as he stood to the side, opting to just watch you. you could tell he contemplated it, but he denied, shaking his head. “where’s the fun in that?” you whined.

     “i’ve gotta do something first.” he simply replied, a roguish glint in his eyes. you were suspicious, but let him do his own thing as you bathed in the water and sunshine. the gravelly sand that covered the bottom of the pond indented the skin on the underside of your legs, adding a soothing pressure as you sat down, letting the water ripple around you. many minutes passed, and you grew restless the more time you spent alone in the water. venturing further into the pond, schools of minnows could be found darting rapidly. they brushed past your skin, maneuvering around your moving form. all was quiet aside from the waves of the water as you forded through. a rustle in the bushes from behind you startled you, causing you to jump and turn around quickly. treech had come back, his hands behind his back.

     “whatcha got there?” you queried, swimming over to him as he kneeled by the water. he just smiled, pulling out a bouquet of colorful wildflowers from behind him. vibrant pink poppies, orange lilies, mauve colored petunias, a few orchids scattered here and there, and yellow wallflowers galore all seemed to bloom from his hand. you were in complete and utter astonishment at the bundle of flowers and the work he had gone through to pick them for you. they were tied together with a loose stem, and you delicately took them from his hand. mother nature’s sweet scent wafted from the stunning plants, instantly soothing you. “these are beautiful, treech,” he grinned, eyes lighting up with pride. his smile always made you melt, and the way his hazel eyes, speckled with green and honey tones, glowed golden in the sun made him seem ethereal. laying the flowers down gently on the grass beside treech, you draped your arms around his neck, placing a tender kiss on his lips. treech gradually joined you in the water, but not before you plucked the sole, pale blue morning glory from the bouquet and tucked it behind his ear, brushing his curls out of his eyes. he took your hand as you guided him further into the pond. the two of you splashed around, laughing for hours until your fingers pruned.

     treech had to drag you out of the water as the sun got lower and lower, the sky growing a burnt orange. you groaned playfully, but shook the water out of your hair anyway, allowing it to drip on the grass below you. the earth felt cool and damp under your bare feet, and the wind blew against your body, making you shiver. quickly, you slipped your shirt over your head, and tied your skirt around your waist, hoping to gain some warmth from the items of clothing that had been strewn out in the sun all day. it seemed to work, but your arms were still bare and the wind was picking up. treech noticed the goosebumps that had formed all along your forearms, and he helped you into his wool coat. smiling, you thanked him, grateful for the extra source of heat. gracefully, you picked up your dainty bouquet of flowers. intertwining your fingers with his, treech led you out of the familiar woods, taking you down the roads of district seven, back to your home. like the gentleman he was, treech walked you to your door, waiting to make sure you got inside safely before leaving. he was just about to leave as you slipped through the front door, but you called his name before he could go any further. he raised his eyebrows, urging you to go on.

     “i love you,” you professed, coyly.

     “i love you more,” treech declared with a smile, before promptly turning and bidding you goodnight, the flower still adorning his hair. 

[swifty-fox]

scrunch and/or adore for the ways to kiss prompts? 👀

let's go with Scrunch! Have the Buckies seeing the ocean for the first time while stationed in Florida for training

A breeze ruffles Gale's hair, smelling of fish and salt. There's a tightness to his shoulders that says he's going to color beautifully and there's a pleasant sort of stinging headache flirting around his eyes from hot sun and not enough hydration.

It is his first time seeing the ocean, Bucky's too, sheltered midwestern boys that they were. He picks up a handful of pale sand, the granules more pale than any he'd seen at quarries or creekbeds. It trickles through his hand in a slow kinetic flood until there's nothing left but clinging scraps and a few bits of shell and plant matter sticking to his sweaty skin.

They'd arrived in Florida less than six hours ago, rumpled from the train and tired from the journey. They'd reported their arrival, dropped their scant few things in their bunks and, having nowhere to be until classes next day, Bucky had whined and wheeled and begged off a well-needed nap for them both.

Come on Buck, it's the ocean. You know, like a pond but a bit bigger?

I know what the ocean is, Bucky.

It had been hours now and while they'd made a good show of being official and composed on the walk down, the first glimmer of turquoise water had them shoving each other like boys and racing to be the first to dive into the spray. The bitterness shocked Gale, and the way it tasted just like the salt from the dinner table only richer and more earthy. Here and there brightly colored fish and irate crabs had darted about their feet and Gale and spent a good long while simply kneeling in the shallow water watching all the living things. John had swum out as far as he dared. Until he was little more than a speck in the waves and Gale's heart had pounded with sudden anxiety.

"Don't go out that far again." He'd told John like a scolding wife and the man had just grinned, curls plastered sodden to his head and dripping beautifully in the bright sunshine.

When they'd tired of splashing in the waves Gale had gone to stretch out in the sand and John had set about digging a hole to nowhere with single-minded determination. His broad shoulders were a brilliant shade of pink, flexing smoothly as he leaned down into his pit to scoop out another handful of rough sand, careful not to splatter Gale's dozing form.

"You know," John says, "the other oceans ain't gonna look like this one. All blue and warm and pretty white sand."

Gale cracks open an eye, "other ones?"

John gestures out to the expansive horizon line, blue on blue, "Europe. They got different oceans there."

"It's the same ocean. It's the Atlantic."

"Yeah but this is a tropical paradise, Buck. It's gonna be all cold and gloomy in England, not like this."

"Maybe you should have become a marine if you wanted to splash around in a tropical paradise, Miss Jones."

John pokes his tongue in his cheek at him, glancing around the empty beach before leaning over Gale with an arm on either side of his shoulders. "maybe I should have, could send you a pretty pin-up postcard of me for you to pin to your dash."

Gale gives him a long-suffering smile before tilting his head to look back out over the ocean horizon again. There was a whole world stretching on endlessly out there, and for a brief moment Gale feels very small and far less worldly than he'd like. A world and a war and more beaches than he could ever count.

"Do you think there's some German soldier out there now lying on a beach and seeing the ocean for the first time?" He instantly feels childish for the question but John doesn't laugh at him.

"Mmm, maybe." he leans down, nose bumping along Gale's cheekbone and then nuzzling against his, "Think there's no way he's as pretty as you, though."

Cheeks coloring, Gale shoves him away. John drags him with him and the two men wrestle in the sand, shoulders stinging and laughter turning breathless until Gale ends up perched on John's chest with a triumphant grin.

"You need to focus on your physically training more Soldier, you got twenty pounds on me."

John grins up at him, heartbreakingly young and Gale's stomach lurches as he realizes one day soon this man beneath him might die, "Maybe I just like having you on top."

[roosterbruiser]

"listen to me.. take deep breaths, yes follow my breathing just like that. theres no need to panic, i'm right here now, aren't I? you're safe"

Jake or Bob helps you through a panic attack plz!

it's Jake that finds out outside The Hard Deck.

you've only been standing out there for a few minutes, choking on your sobs, keeping your feet firmly planted on the concrete. you're trying to stave it off--that acidic panic that's climbing your spine, making your hairs stand on end. but it's overwhelming you already, pressing against your teeth and licking your heels.

"there you are," Jake says, a goofy smile plastered to his lips--the one he only gets when he's tipsy or looking at you. and right now, it's a little bit of both. "been lookin' everywhere for you!"

he closes the door behind him and squints through the dusk, locating the back of your body as you quiver minutely and stare out across the dark beach and the rolling waves.

"needed some fresh air?" Jake tries again, stepping towards you.

but then he hears it--the tiny sounds of your upset. the sharp sniffling, the unhelpful deep breaths, the little unmistakable whimpers when you manage to choke down your saliva.

"hey," Jake says, suddenly feeling more sober now. he pushes past the random patio furniture and presses his hands against your shoulders. you hardly move beneath his touch, just stifling sobs and that's all. "babygirl, what's-a matter?"

that's all it takes for you to break finally. you bend at the hips and sob out into the open, a choking and sordid thing, clutching your chest as your heart fruitlessly tries to hammer its way out.

"alright," Jake says softly, his brow creased in concern. he maneuvers himself so he's standing before you, anchoring himself to your body by his solid grip on your hips. "s'alright, hold on," he whispers.

carefully, he holds onto one of your legs and pulls up, which leaves you grasping for purchase on his shoulders.

"I've got ya," he promises, "just gonna take these pesky heels off, huh?"

you allow him to do that, firmly planting your bare feet in the cold sand, burrowing your toes deeper and deeper until your teeth are chattering.

Jake soothingly rubs your legs, kissing your hips. he knows how this all goes by now, what it's like loving a pilot who lost their wingman, what can trigger your trauma. he always allows you to get those initial sobs out, the ones that he knows make your head ache, but it's when you start hyperventilating that he takes the next step.

"listen to me, babygirl," he says, his voice velvety and smooth. he holds your face, strokes your wet cheeks with his calloused thumbs. and then he ducks to be in your field of vision. then he puts on the show--wrinkling his nose, inhaling deeply. "you smell that?"

and through your tears, you're just able to make out that grimace on his face, just able to see how serious he looks.

"Jesus, what is that?"

you fall for it every time, taking a deep breath in through your nose, inhaling precisely nothing except salt air and the beer lingering on his breath.

"there you go," he soothes, petting your face. "I've got you, babygirl. you're alright. standing in the sand with me outside The Hard Deck, huh? everything's okay," he tells you.

the panic is subsiding already, which you know is a little bit because of the cold sand on the soles of your feet and a lot a bit because Jake is here, on his knees, coaching you through this like this is the only thing in the world he cares about.

he knows you're coming down when your grip loosens on his shoulders, when your breaths become deep and less pitiful.

"there she is," he mumbles, honing in on you and only you--disregarding all his friends just inside the building, a few too many shooters split up between them. "you've got it."

when you're finally able to wipe your face, looking down at him, he smiles up at you with his brows knit.

"you tricked me," you mumble to him, voice hoarse.

"and I'd do it again," he tells you with a grin.

[xxdemonicheartxx]

Flight Rising flights but as art mediums:

There are some overlaps in mediums since dragons are so tight knit and far spread

Earth: tile work/mosaics, jewelry work, ceramics, stone sculpture, chalk, clay work, plaster, leather work, rain chains

Water: plaster work, woven tapestries, shell jewelry and chimes, pearl inlays, decorative sails and flags, basket weaving, sandstone carving, watercolors, mirrors and glass sculptures

Shadow: optical illusions, black and white photography, puzzle boxes, uranium glass work, maybe iron work, mycology arrangements, shadow boxes, gouache, anything that involves glowing in the dark

Light: stone carving and gold foiled painting, sometimes tapestry weaving to depict an image or scene, impressionism, oil paint, tempera, portraiture, clothing and attire, mirrors, pigment making

Plague: hyper realism, and taxidermy, ceramics, bone carvings, tattoos, ink block prints, collage art, murals, leather work, totems and large outdoor installations

Nature: floral arrangements, dye work, wood work, candle making, hot wax painting, landscaping, rain chains, wind chimes, tapestries, needle felting, carpentry, animal cosmetics (haircuts, animal safe dye, nail and claw painting, etc), apparel/clothing, pigment making

Ice: needle felting, wood carving, quilting, ice carving and sculpture, snow sculptures, knitting, the art of tea blends, dried plant arrangements, carpentry, fabric weaving, tapestries, crochet, wood burning, blanket weaving, candle making, dye work, wood turning

Fire: welding, decorative weapon smithing, glass blowing, wood burning, wrought iron, stained glass, latticed metal, terracotta, ceramics, obsidian and basalt carving, graphite, slate, charcoal

Wind: paper mache, ribbon mediums, basket weaving, sonorous sculptures, wind chimes, feathered attire, really tall and thin structures/sculptures, jade carving, blanket weaving

Arcane: resin, stained glass, welding, intricate silver work, collaborative neon work with shadow (they need that special eye for glow in the dark), crystal carving, zen gardens, bonsai art, screen printing, photography, illuminated manuscripts, clothing and apparel, gold foil work, abstract art

Lightning: bronze cast sculptures, sand sculptures (when lightning strikes the sand and turns it to stone) aluminum casts poured into ant colonies/hills, pop art, up-cycled art, photography, art that is still capable of being utilized and interacted with because people and dragons are part of the medium, assemblage art, banners and flags

[bucking-mustangs-with-wings]

GREENER THAN WYOMING - Clegan (Barbed Wire Hearts AU series) fic

Posted here on ao3

Part 5 in my BWH buck x bucky series, again wrote in a day and a half coz god I needed this installment so bad, I had so much fun writing this. Hope you guys love this one as much as I loved writing it!

Didn't realise I wrote 12k+ words for this. Oops

BE WARNED: there is slight smut in this one :p

@swifty-fox @trashbag-baby666 @moghraidhs (if you want to be added to the tag list when i add more posts about this story, let me know!)

There's still sand and grit stuck to the side of his face when Bucky makes his way through the back of the bull chutes into the direction of the announcer's box, sweat making the fine granules plaster themselves to his skin and get stuck to the damp ends of the dark curls falling messily across his forehead.

He can feel also the sand that had gotten lodged in between his vest and shirt, some of it having fallen in against the skin of his ribs, but nothing he hadn't felt before. It came with the territory, and he couldn't help but feel the adrenaline still ebbing and waning in amongst his limbs and muscles like a familiar friend.

Despite it only having been a practice run before the current rodeo they were preparing for at the end of the week, it was still a good run. The fact that he'd half face planted into the dirt on his attempted dismount from the practice bull was only schematics. Easily brushed off in the grand scheme of things.

Sometimes he managed to land unsteadily on his feet, other times he got a little bit flung or the dismount was a little less graceful than he would have liked. But no one really batted an eye at it. All the other boys were used to it themselves so it was just another day at the office.

As he turns the corner building, absentmindedly bringing his hand up to brush some of the dirt away from his nose with a sniffle, Bucky can't help the way his heart picks up its still already racing tempo when he zeroes in on the familiar line of Buck's back standing just outside the door of the sponsor's office.

The other cowboy has his back to him, blond hair flicking up at the back from underneath his signature black hat, arms folded across his chest, making his shoulders that were only marginally slighter than Bucky's own seem wider as he talked calmly to whoever was standing in front of him. The white Wrangler logo stitched across the expanse stretched out slightly on his black button down he had worn that day.

Letting his eyes linger on the other man's form, a few seconds longer on the shape of him in the well fitted blue jeans, John made his way closer until he was standing at Buck's side. He brought his hands up to rest against his own hips, shifting his weight between his feet and realised it was Chick that Buck was currently locked in conversation with.

The older man glanced at Bucky with a smile and tip of his hat, a silent acknowledgement between them before focusing back on Buck with barely so much as a pause in the conversation.

"Really think he'd be a good fit for you, Buck. He's been in the circuit down in Kentucky for a couple years now. Still a little bit of the amateur class but he's looking to rise up and play with some of the big boys,"

Bucky only took half interest in what Chick was saying, still hearing the rush of sound behind his own ears and the ebb of adrenaline start to fade to the point that his body was sinking into that familiar lazy afterglow. Could feel his left knee wobble a little bit under his weight.

"What are we talkin' about?" Bucky asked offhandedly, looking between Buck and Chick in question.

Buck turned his face in his direction slightly, bringing him into their conversation as easily as a shift in his shoulders.

"Chick was just-" Buck paused momentarily, a hitch in the flow of his words when he looked at Bucky's face, a frown knitting his brow as he reached up and absentmindedly brushed away some sand off of Bucky's eyebrow and forehead in one flick before resuming what he was saying like he hadn't even stopped.

"Chick was telling me about some of the new boys he was thinking of adding to our circuit. Some new ropers this time too, and he was asking if I'd be interested in taking one or two under my wing for a bit. Test drive 'em and see if they can hold some mick up to the rest of us."

"That so?" Bucky smiled, looking down at Buck and the blank expression on his face, like always. But he could see the excited spark behind his eyes, the telltale clink of a spur being toed at with the other boot down below them.

He had to stamp down the sudden need to reach out to curve one hand over the blond's hip and pull him closer into his side.

Chick chuckled, a deep and amused sound as he nodded at Bucky from underneath the brim of his cap. "Figured our Buck, here, would be better than any to put them through their paces. And we got just under a week to see if they'll make a good fit."

"I'd be more than happy to," Buck grinned, aiming the last half of that smile towards John. "Got some new bull riders wanting to start too."

Bucky raised a brow in question, his own teeth glinting in a smile as he looked at Chick. A hound being sicked on the trail.

"Oh, fresh meat?" he drawled playfully. It earned him a barely felt side kick to the ankle from Buck, that only served to make him smile wider. "I'm kidding! But also, not really."

Chick laughed at him, shaking his head slightly in the way of a father being exasperated by the antics of an unruly son.

"As green as they come." Chick told him. "Couple of boys from the Juniors who just turned 18 and wanna come sit the big dogs."

Bucky nodded, thinking on back when he was that age and first sat on the back of one of the proper bulls, all 1500 pounds of muscle and agile rage between his thighs. Thought of the way he shook like a leaf for a good hour once he had his feet back firmly on the ground, but an adrenaline fuelled smile that he couldn't wipe off his face.

He hadn't stuck that day, being tossed within a mere 2.4 seconds, but it slotted something in to place for him and confirmed then and there that there was nothing else he would rather do from that point forward.

His only thought was when he would do it again, already chomping at the bit like a little kid wanting to take another go on the roller-coaster at the county fair.

"I'll look after 'em," Bucky told him, smile turning a bit softer. "Don't you worry that big head of yours, Chick."

Chick eyed him and hummed with a smirk, slightly disbelieving but fond.

"Im sure, I'm sure." He turned his amused gaze back to Buck, an air of seriousness now amongst the familiar comraderie. "The new ropers are due to roll in tomorrow, I got the word that they were headed out yesterday, so they should be here by mid morning. Mid day at the latest."

"The guy you were telling me about, Rosenthal," Buck questioned. "You say he was a heeler?"

Chick nodded. "Heeler and Header. He's whatever you need him to be, Buck. Guy near had a coronary on the phone once I told him I was handing him off to you to take care of."

Bucky didn't miss the slight colour that rose to Buck's cheeks at Chick's words, blue eyes lowering in his usual gesture of bashfulness at any praise or hint of reverence that came with his name.

It was something that Bucky would never cease to feel absolute endearment towards the other man for, and he couldn't help the way his heart stuttered every time he saw it. Like Buck still couldn't believe he was a revered and well know name amongst the rodeo and its fans and competitors alike. And it only served to make Bucky fall harder and harder each and every day, the humble nature burying itself deep down in his soul.

"I'll make sure to have Ken on stand-by, then." Buck muttered, and Bucky couldn't help the laugh Buck's words pulled from his chest.

Chick looked between the two men with a small smile, an air of pride obvious in the way he straightened his posture with a small nod. "I'm counting on you two. Now go on, get outta here. I've got paperwork to settle and I'm sure you've got somewhere important to be, shit to get ready."

He eyed Bucky up and down, head to toe, taking in the still sweat slick hair and sand and dirt that was covering one side of him like an overgrown half-sugared donut, smile feigning innocence.

"And a shower." He tacked on as a last minute thought.

Bucky threw Chick a lazy salute in reply, grinning as the other man turned and wandered back into the office muttering under his breath.

He turned to look at Buck, plastering on a wide innocent smile. The blond could only look at him in exasperation, but the small smirk Bucky spotted underneath the black brim of Gale's hat took any serious bite out of it.

--

Just like Chick had promised, the new crew rolled in around 11am the next morning, a train of brand new Chevy pickups dragging along new and old goosenecks and trailers through the grounds to park in a polite and organised manner amongst the others across the camp ground.

John watched from afar, seated in a fold out chair lazily underneath the awning of Buck's trailer with Curt and Crosby while half a dozen unfamiliar faces filtered out of the trucks. Some boisterous and brash, loud young men who were obviously the greenest of the bunch, while two or three others leisurely surveyed their surroundings, taking in the arena not far off aways and the atmosphere that this particular ground gave off.

A couple of the men wandered back towards the rear of the trailers, swinging open double doors and Bucky could hear the thundering steps of horses banging in the back, obviously eager to step off and on to new soil after being holed up in the small spaces for hours on end.

Letting his head roll back loose on his neck so John could look back towards the closest end of the arena, he let his eyes settle on the familiar form of Buck perched up on Baby's back where he'd been for the past half hour, expertly turning her this way and that with barely a twitch of his fingers on the reins.

The mare went easily and obedient, golden coat gleaming under the not-too-harsh sunlight as she spun on her heels and started off at another lope in the opposite direction. They reached about half way before Buck made a low noise, eyes tilted downward at her neck and she planted her hooves in a dead stop, backing up a few steps before spinning and repeating it with a light squeeze from Gale's leg against her flank.

Bucky couldn't help the shiver that trailed up his spine as he watched Gale so expertly put her through the paces of a warm up, keeping her movements quick and agile and working as a perfect team that most other ropers on the circuit could only dream of accomplishing with their own horses, even after years of training and experience.

Riders that had been in the saddle for longer than Buck had been alive still struggled to mirror the air of confidence and partnership that the two had.

It made a coiling heat sit in the bottom of John's stomach as he took in the barely-there grip that Buck had on the long pieces of leather in his hands, delicate looking fingers only twitching here and there in practised commands that Baby could obviously feel against her mouth, no matter how light.

John had to swallow harshly against the sudden dryness of his throat. Images and flashes of memory of those same fingers threaded through his hair and tugging insistently in the throes of a quick bout of passion earlier that morning, tucked away in Gale's trailer as the sun was barely creeping its way up above the horizon invaded his mind.

When the rest of the campground's occupants were still dead quiet and lost to sleep. Bucky had rolled over still half asleep himself when Gale had elegantly climbed his way over him to start getting himself ready for the day, and he'd watched through the small opening from the bed loft into the extended living space of the trailer as the other had wandered naked and quiet gathering up jeans and a shirt from the wardrobe, pulling his belt from a hanger with a clink of metal.

It had only taken a few minutes of John watching him through half lidded eyes, taking in the sight of Buck's tanned shoulders, the small spatter of scattered beauty marks here and there that broke up the perfect expanse and the curve of the cowboy's toned and perfect ass before Bucky had felt his cock stir to life underneath the sheets.

He'd waited silently, feigning sleep until Buck got close enough to the loft's opening before he'd struck out in one quick movement like a rattlesnake and grabbed the blond by the arm, pulling him back in and up onto the bed with an answering surprised yelp that had Bucky grinning like a mad man despite himself.

Despite Buck's quiet protests that he had shit to do and he didn't have the time, it only took a few instances of lips pressed expertly to certain places against the taut line of his throat. John's large hand buried in the back of sandy toned blond hair to pull his head back to expose more of it, ripping involuntary and slowly growing rapid shaky breaths and sounds, that had Buck finally breaking and growling out a sharp frustrated shout like an infuriated mountain lion and flipping Bucky onto his back in one expert movement.

He couldn't help the self satisfied feeling that enveloped him when Buck surged up to kiss him, insistent and hungry, teeth sinking into the plush skin of his bottom lip. Proud and smug knowing that he could melt away Buck's carefully crafted resolve and self control with only a few words or touches of his hands or lips in certain areas, with certain pressures. Could have the other lose it and charge forward head first into Bucky like a captured wild horse that had just had the gates to freedom swing open right in front of him and out into the wilderness.

He had expected the usual, Buck pressing all the right buttons in the abandoned way he always did, driving John to near madness with starved yet soft kisses that would slowly begin to trail downwards, first over his throat before descending to his chest.

A prisoner to the way Buck would drag his talented fingers and lips over the sensitive buds of his nipples, looking straight up at him with those baby blues, clouded over with something dark in lust like a storm cloud when Bucky would have to lift his head just to get a glimpse of him that he would always be helpless to crave.

Just a quick look before it became too much for his melting brain to handle and he would have to let his head fall back against the blankets before it was over a lot quicker than he would like.

He would lose himself even more to Gale's ministrations, not long before the blond would open him up on those same talented digits while perfect lips enveloping his cock as he worked, leaving John a writhing mess of a man before feeling Buck sink perfectly into the warm wet heat of him.

But Buck had crawled back up the length of his body, studiously ignoring the heavy heat of his cock that was leaking in unrestrained want against the dark hair trailing against his stomach and grabbed his chin between thumb and forefinger.

He'd pulled Bucky's face back down to his own, making him focus on blue eyes that seemed far too bright and electric, manic, with so little light, and it had made John pause and just stare at the sudden vulnerability there that had mixed itself amongst the lust.

Gale had kissed him, sweet but still frantic, a whispered "Gotta be quick, we don't have long," before kissing John once more and then leaning back.

Bucky felt the cold shock of the air in the absence of Gale's warmth, thinking he had meant they had to be quick before the other boys started to stir awake themselves with the progression of the sun's rise.

But the thoughts had whisked themselves away into nothingness, swept away into just pure dumb want as he watched Buck reach in to one of the little side nooks around the edge of the bed, pulling out the small tube of lubricant they'd stashed away and then reaching back before working himself open on his own fingers.

Something in John's brain completely misfired, crackling into an exposed and heated live-wire, could only prop himself up on his elbows and watch helpless and open mouthed as Buck moved. The hand not currently moving inside himself reaching out to grip against John's knee, shaky and flexing without thought.

John's eyes had darted over every inch of Gale's body, the way his back had been bowed backwards slightly to accommodate the angle at what he was doing to himself. The expression on his face screwed up in pleasure but also with a timid far away concentration that had him make eye contact with Bucky for a few fleeting moments before he closed them and colour had risen to his cheeks.

It was that nervousness John could pick up on there, the vulnerability that had Buck's body trembling from it as well as the sparks of pleasure he was feeding into himself, a small broken noise sounding in the back of the blond's throat, that had Bucky finally break out of the melting hold his mind was currently suffocating him with and reaching out for Buck.

Pulled him into his arms, into his lap with hushed whispers of "C'mere, oh my god, Come 'ere" until the other had been positioned perfectly in the envelope of his hold, still shaky and trembling and pressing his forehead against Bucky's with eyes squeezed shut, arms draped over John's wide shoulders loose and careful.

It was a fleeting moment when Buck finally opened up his eyes to connect with John's, wide and shy but that little hint of courage John found there had him lifting his hands and fixing themselves firmly over Buck's waist, swallowed up by the size of his fingers and palms like a puzzle piece slotting perfectly into place.

He had gently lifted him, feeling Buck straighten up onto his knees from where they were sat at either side of John's hips, never breaking eye contact as the other man reached back with one shaking arm.

Bucky could only let out a small exhale, just as shaky as the vulnerable cowboy in his arms against similarly parted lips when he felt Buck's fingers wrap delicately around the girth of him.

Could only mirror the sound Buck made against him with a gentle frown, eyes still glued to Buck's as the smaller man slowly positioned himself over the still leaking head of his cock and lowered himself, panting at the stretch.

The arm still around John's shoulders flexed, pulling their chests together tighter, a whine escaping from the back of his throat as he sank down those last few inches until he was fully seated in John's lap again, filled to the brim with him.

John had brought one of his arms around the lower half of Buck's back, just holding him there as a silent support, not game enough to move in fear of scaring Buck out of whatever had made him brave enough to pursue the feeling, of allowing John access to the most vulnerable side of him.

It was a rare occurrence that Buck ever truly opened himself up physically to John in the same way he had emotionally. Too stuck in his own past of never being allowed his own thoughts and free will, being taught by his father from the moment he could step up into a saddle that emotions were worthless, they clouded minds and made you weak and that giving up any kind of control, be it physical or mental, was something to feel shame for.

Something to lock away behind reinforced walls with a key that you should melt down into a useless pile.

It was something that Buck had come to expect a closed fist against his cheek or against his ribs for if he showed anything that could be named as vulnerable.

Bucky had felt a sense of awestruck wonder, staring at the man he was holding safely in his arms now, feeling the reach of what felt like forbidden pleasure coil low in his abdomen when Buck had slowly started to move.

Another sense of privilege mix in when he was subject to the primal sounds of slightly restrained rapture escaping between Buck's parted lips and whisper against his own.

In the aftermath of it all, when Buck had painted the space between them without so much as a brush of John's hand against his own neglected need and left it dripping down the planes of both their stomachs, had held him so tightly as he shuddered and trembled through his release in a strangled cry against John's throat, John had been helpless but to follow suit.

Had filled him deeply and reverently with every single ounce of raw emotion that had been coursing through him with his own low groan against a shivering tan shoulder.

Both ended up laying together, sweat dripping over warm skin and breathing harsh but satisfied, and John had gathered Gale back up into his arms to hold him through what he knew was probably an incredibly daunting and scary thought process.

Yet judging by the relaxed muscles he could feel underneath the tips of his fingers as he stroked them up and down Gale's arm in thought, the blond letting out a long winded sigh against his pectoral, he didn't feel as if the other was freaking out as much as he would have expected at having given himself over to being vulnerable and controlled.

He had felt a strong sense of pride at being something Gale would gladly give himself over to when his courage allowed it.

The quiet chuckle he had let become audible, as well as the comment that 'I didn't think Champion Rider extended over to me, too, Buck," had earned him a bony elbow to the ribs in reply, but also the feeling of a grin being pressed to his side.

Curt's hand slapping in to his chest from beside him brought Bucky's thoughts back to the present like a well aimed cattle prod, and he jerked slightly in his seat from where he was still looking over at Buck to face the smaller brunette questioningly.

Curt had a knowing smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, but he nodded in the direction of where the new cowboys were still unloading their horses and gear. One of the tall ones, who John could only just make out had dark hair underneath an off-white cattleman hat, was walking in their direction.

Looking back to where Buck was still working Baby, John let out a high sharp whistle in his direction to get his attention, and the blond's head snapped up, alert and questioning.

John gestured with a wave of his hand out towards the line of new trailers and the newcomers, and saw the barely there nod Buck sent his way with a tip of his chin in acknowledgement before spinning Baby with practised ease and walking her up the length of the arena leisurely towards the gates.

When Bucky focused his attention back towards the approaching new cowboy, the man had stopped near Crosby just under the edge of the awning, hands coming up to rest on his hips and tipping his hat in greeting.

Piercing blue eyes scanned over the three of them, but not in a judgemental way, just in a gesture of taking them in, curious and friendly. He hazarded a glance around, tongue darting out to swipe over his lips in a nervous gesture underneath a neatly trimmed moustache.

"Gentlemen," he said brightly, small smile beaming. "Figure this is the right place. I'm Robert, Robert Rosenthal, but just Rosie's fine. I'm with the new bunch of ropers, Chick said you knew we were comin'?"

Crosby nodded at him, leaning forward in his chair to reach for Rosie's hand in a friendly greeting and introducing himself before Curt and John copied and did the same.

"Sure did," Crosby smiled, all typical cowboy friendliness turned up to a full ten. It was a move John knew well, watching the barely veiled curiosity and calculated observation in both Cros and Curt's body language, taking in the new guy and if he was as genuine as he was giving out in first impression. John couldn't help the small grin from tipping up one side of his lips. "Right on time, actually. Hope it wasn't too hard finding the place."

Rosie smiled even brighter at the welcoming air he was receiving, a small weight lifting off of his shoulders.

"Nah, just followed the signs. Was easy enough even after the GPS in the truck conked out on us halfway here."

Crosby chuckled at Rosie's words, the last of his demeanour softening, and in turn John felt his own reservations melt away about the man as he shifted further down in to his seat and shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie comfortably.

"Say," Rosie suddenly piped up, expression turning just that touch of sheepish around the edges. "Chick was saying when we got here I was meant to go see Gale Cleven? Said he'd know where to point us to get us settled?"

As if on queue, the distinct sound of a horse sidled up to Bucky's left, and he turned his head just in time to see the gold sheen of Baby's distinct coat come around the corner of the trailer, said Gale Cleven seated up on her like a king astride his steed.

The blond shot Bucky a quick fond little private smile from above, using his tongue to move the toothpick currently sitting between his lips from one side to the other before he looked up and focused in on Rosie. The classic friendly Cleven smile painted itself on his face in a matter of moments.

"Howdy," Buck drawled, tilting his chin in greeting and oozing with unintentional charm, and John snorted in amusement like he was witness to an inside joke. Gale leaned forward with an air of ease and leaned his elbows on the horn of his saddle. "You one of the new boys, I'm guessing?"

Rosie stared at Gale for a moment, eyes widening and jaw going slightly slack before he sputtered and collected himself with a shake of his head. He reached up and removed the hat from its perch above somehow perfectly styled near black hair and stepped up to Baby's shoulder, hand reaching out to shake Gale's hand.

John saw the telltale signs of worship and respect from a mile away, a slight tint rising to the new cowboy's cheeks as Gale reached down and gripped Rosie's hand in greeting.

He didn't know why something started niggling against his gut like an insect buzzing for the pure intent of irritation, but he swallowed it down, eyes flickering back and forth between Gale and Rosie like a hawk, a frown threatening to crease his brow.

It wasn't the first time another cowboy had been star struck by meeting one of the top ropers in the country, Gale Cleven. He was the golden child of the rodeo world and had a famous last name spanning back three generations to prove it. A downright western nepo-baby but with the talent and good nature to keep that good name going and do it justice instead of just relying on the name alone to garner the fame.

And with looks like that as well as the humble disposition and talent on top, Curt had quickly learned not to make bets with Bucky on how many buckle bunnies sidled up to Gale at each rodeo, all sickly sweet smiles and daisy-dukes paired with bedazzled cowgirl boots and low cut tops trying to tempt the rider into their beds.

Only to be shot down politely with a charming smile. Much to their disappointment. And Bucky's sharp, self satisfied dangerous grin that usually followed them from over Buck's shoulder as they turned away with dramatic pouted botox lips over said cowboy.

Rosie looked like he'd just met a damned God, expression bashful and eyes diverting every few seconds from Gale's gaze as he brought a hand up to nervously run through his hair before sitting his hat back atop his head.

"Yessir, Rosie Rosenthal. We just rolled in," he glanced back at the trailers in the direction he'd come from, Gale's eyes flickering to the same direction before focusing back on each other.

"Yeah I thought so. Chick mentioned you yesterday, said you guys were comin'. Hope the trip wasn't too hard on you and your boys."

Rosie scoffed dismissively but friendly. "Ah we did alright. Took a bit of-"

"Hooooly shit, you're Gale Cleven!"

All five cowboys looked up at the same time to see a kid no younger than 20 years old come jogging up from the direction of the new trailers, breathless and wide eyed. Bucky didn't think he'd ever seen a greener roper in his life, bright eyed and overly confident in his steps and the line of his shoulders.

He stepped up next to Rosie, who suddenly had an expression of fond exasperation, looking down at the ground with a slow shake of his head. Like a big brother tasked with having to look after a younger sibling and slightly embarrassed to be associated.

"When Rosie said we were gonna be riding with the Gale fuckin' Cleven, I honestly woulda believed him more if he said pigs fly," the kid smiled. "The name's Nash."

When he walked up to shake Gale's offered hand, the blond still smiling with the greeting charm turned all the way up to ten on the dial, Bucky couldn't stop the smile from breaking out onto his own face at the way Baby turned her head with an evil eye, ears pinned back slightly and teeth bared as she attempted to nip at the kid's shirt.

Gale didn't even react besides picking up the reins and secretly forcing her mouth in the opposite direction without anyone being the wiser or even noticing. She huffed out a sharp breath, nostrils flaring and shifting her back feet in disappointment.

Bucky had to bring his hand up, pretending to brush his fingers along the hair of his moustache to hide his amused smirk from the others.

"Nash from Nashville?" Curt leaned over and whispered behind his hand and Bucky nearly palmed his face away with a slap. He was barely hanging on to his composure by a thread from watching Baby.

That horse would be the death of him, right alongside the cowboy still perched up on her back. Gale had leisurely hooked his left leg up and across the pommel of the saddle in front of him, all the air of a calm and cocksure cowboy if there ever was one. And Bucky knew he didn't even do it on purpose. Didn't even have to try.

"Well, it's good to have you boys joining us. Needed some fresh new faces to join the ranks." Gale grinned, toothpick bobbing.

"Where you boys from, anyways?" Crosby piped up, asking as if Curt's offhanded joke had sparked some genuine curiosity.

Nash turns to Crosby, suddenly aware that there are, in fact, more people privvy to his starstruck excitement, and Bucky sees the moment the kid's eyes widen even further and wonders if maybe they should have brought Ken in for standby medical attention.

"Oh lord, you're Harry Crosby!" Eyes pan over to Curt, zipping between him and then to Bucky, mouth agape and sputtering. "The John Egan, and Curt Biddick!"

Curt leans over to Bucky, eyes watching the kid like he wasn't sure if he should be moving backwards in case he spontaneously combusted on the spot. "He knows who I am?"

Nash looks shocked at Curt's words, hand flying up to palm his forehead underneath the red flat cap he was wearing. "Oh man, of course I know who you are! I've seen those tiktoks of you backflipping over those bulls like it's nothin'!"

Curt gets a satisfied smile lighting up his face at Nash's enthusiasm, propping his left ankle up on his knee in an air of nonchalance but doesn't say anything further as Nash focuses in on Bucky.

"And you! Man, you're the reason I nearly changed my mind from ropin' to bull ridin'. My sisters love you!"

Bucky chuckles, suddenly gaining an air of fondness for the kid, like a little brother who can at once annoy the ever-loving hide off of you, but one you'd also show up at 2am for when they call drunk saying they needed your help. Has a feeling if the new ropers stick around and fit the bill that at some point he'd end up having to do just that.

"Texas," Rosie suddenly pipes up, answering Crosby's earlier question before Nash got them all side tracked. "Me and Nash are from Texas. Other boys are a mix of everywhere."

Gale nods in acknowledgement from his perch on Baby, demeanour still interested and warm. "Texas, huh? Heard it gets awful hot down there, can't say I've been too often, not during the warmer months anyways."

Rosie laughs, a hearty sound with still that hint of shaky nervousness, no doubt from having Buck's attention back on him. He rubs in a bashful gesture at the back of his neck, smile small but no less bright.

"Yeah she does get a little warm. Me and Nash did most of our first shows down there, did a few roping clinics as well in the beginning."

"One time we practised for twelve hours straight!" Nash piped up, bouncing on the balls of his feet, excitement still at the forefront. "Ended up stripped down to nothing but our underwear it got so damn hot, near fell off my horse at one point!"

Bucky looked between the two men, eyebrows climbing up towards his hairline. He didn't have to glance at Buck to know the blond wore a similar expression, calm facade broken for a few seconds.

"You boys… rode in your underwear?" Bucky slowly asked, a smile crawling onto his face as he pictured it with ease but also with a feeling of sympathetic discomfort. Saw Buck grimace from the corner of his eye, no doubt thinking on how uncomfortable that would have been on their privates, saddles digging in with the rough motions from the horse's movements.

Rosie had the sense to look embarrassed, cheeks heating up into a bright hue of red and eyes diverting from the boys for a moment or two as he chuckled nervously. They glanced up at Buck like he was about to be reprimanded by the horseman.

"Ahh, yes sir, that we did."

But Buck didn't have a cruel reprimanding bone in his body, not unless you were downright abusive to your horse or an idiot to the point you put yourself and your men or your horse in danger, and that amused smirk coloured the cowboy's expression once again as he watched Rosie with something akin to fascination.

It only served to bring light back to that uncomfortable coiling burn still perched in Bucky's stomach and chest, irritating to the point he had to bring a hand up and rub questioningly at his sternum with a confused frown. He could feel Curt's eyes currently searing a hole into the side of his head, but chose to ignore it.

"Can't say I envy you on that," Buck laughed, straightening up in the saddle with a stretch of his torso and a small groan, muscles probably aching from the morning warm up with Baby. "How about I come on over with you to meet the rest of your boys, make sure you lot get settled in okay and help out a little?"

Rosie looked lost on words, eyes raking over Buck quickly that John managed to catch easily, frown finally shaping his brow above sharp eyes and pursed lips.

"Yeah, yeah! Sure thing, we'd all be glad of it. I'm sure the other boys are busting their asses to meet you." Rosie stuttered, turning his body but his head still turned back to keep his focus on Buck.

Gale urged Baby forward with a nudge of his spurs and a barely audible click in his throat, the mare tossing her head as she was finally pushed in to moving. She walked along for a few steps before being pushed up further into a trot, going along happily as Buck directed her over towards the new trailers and the line of men now visible standing with their horses tied up against the sides of them.

Bucky watched as horse and rider got further and further away, the blond cowboy rising and falling in the saddle perfectly in time with Baby's gait like he was part of the horse himself, Rosie and Nash following behind at a more subdued pace.

Noticed Rosie watching Gale's form in the saddle as well as the other moved ahead of them.

John couldn't help the way he turned his head to Curt, the other man still watching him with no shame, icey blue eyes focused on him like an accusation, chin propped up in the palm of his hand. One eyebrow raised slowly as John looked at him, a smirk curving one side of his mouth.

"I ain't sayin' nothin'." Curt drawled slowly, never breaking his stare with Bucky.

John sighed and looked away, extracting his pack of cigarettes out from the pocket of his hoodie where he had his hands rested, pulling a single white stick out with his lips and teeth to light with a more aggressive than necessary flick of his wrist with the lighter.

"Nothin' to say, Curt."

--

After the new ropers had been officially settled in, horses finding a place and getting their programs from Chick at the office, the rest of the week was a long winded process of practices and warm ups from sunrise to sundown.

Along with Rosie and Nash, there were a total of two others out of six that had travelled in with them looking to recruit themselves in the the current circuit alongside the roping greats that were Gale Cleven and his team.

Each and every one with hopeful smiles and talent as quick-footed and sure as Chick could have ever hoped for. A lucky draw of a bunch, and with them came high hopes as well as pre-drawn contracts ready and waiting for after the rodeo set to play out at the end of the week.

Rosie's main crew consisted of the pre-mentioned Nash, the youngest out of the lot, still singing praises of each and every cowboy he met with a pep in his step and bright smile as he followed John or Curt or Crosby around like a new puppy at his master's heels.

The main header who Rosie said was a spitfire of a man with a roping hand as sticky as molasses was Winifred "Pappy" Lewis. A stout young fellow just as eager and fresh as the rest but with an air of maturity to him that had him quickly gain favor with Buck.

He took in every single thing that Gale told him and every pointer and piece of advice he got as if he was a sponge, and Bucky could tell that Gale had nothing but respect for the kid and knew he would go as far as he wanted if he put the effort in.

Pappy often had his best friend, another bright and intensely eager man who went by nothing other than Speas, which made Bucky smile with amusement at the information in a quaint understanding, noting that even Pappy would always and only refer to him as such.

It reminded him fondly of him and Buck and the nicknames that they often only teased each other for in the beginning when they first met before that mutual respect was earned.

As such, most of Gale's and Bucky's days were filled with either practice of warm ups leading up to the main rodeo event, leaving little one on one time between the two of them. But it was to be expected. And it wasn't something either men were new to, especially having brand new charges under Buck's wing that he was given full responsibility for, and the task of having them all ready for what was ahead.

In the few moments in between being behind the chutes and the rare scant moments of free time he had, Bucky would often perch himself up against the rails of the arena and just observe Buck and his new little team of amateurs with a fond smile.

The blond cowboy looked right at home out there, voice clear and authoritative as he ordered them around and through their paces, keeping an air of respect about him that kept that respect well received continuously amongst the newbies.

He never got angry, never lost his temper no matter how stupid Nash or Speas sometimes got when exhaustion started gripping them towards the day's end. And John knew that alongside Buck's more often than not kind and calm demeanour, it was also a conscious effort to keep the teaching mellow but firm, not violent and dismissive, not too strict, like his father.

Knew Buck recognised that being a friend as well as a mentor got the younger ropers further and more willing to listen to him and have that information stick, rather than hold them under an angry hand with a cuff around the back of the ear for not listening well enough.

He found gentleness and conscious effort and time was more productive in the long run, much like the training of a young horse.

You couldn't whip a young horse for making a step left instead of a right and expect the horse to know what it did wrong from the violence alone with little to no feedback. It didn't work like that.

It had Bucky's affection for the other cowboy continue to grow and grow until he felt like he would fall to knees under the weight of it.

Often having to find the strength not to slip through that arena fence and march right up to Buck, perched high on Baby and grab the other man and pull him down in to a crushing kiss every other moment. Often keeping that affection pent up until the two found a few seconds alone like they'd always done and slip between trailers to steal a kiss in privacy, or in the quiet moments in Buck's trailer they were all but lucky to have at that point in time.

Those moments seemed to get further and further in between though, with the amount of time training and practising took up for the rodeo lately.

And now with Buck having his new charges, Bucky often would enter Buck's trailer for the night to find the blond already dead to the world face down on the trailer's loft bed, face peaceful and once or twice only having managed to take off one boot before sleep took him under.

It was something Bucky didn't mind in the slightest, understood on a different level because they were in the same boat. And on those nights he'd quietly remove Buck's other boot and put his hat up on the hook by the trailer door before climbing into bed, careful not to disturb the other, before pulling the smaller man into his arms against his chest and letting himself drift off to sleep to the smell of Buck's hair and horses under his nose.

The only problem that had arisen, as well as that uncomfortable burning sensation against Bucky's chest from the day the new ropers pulled up, was that the quiet moments or scant few minutes Buck and him were able to achieve were getting less and less.

Especially when every waking moment that Buck had was filled with the other ropers and their attention, or Rosie. Who very quickly came to be who Buck started to fill most of his time with.

The new roper had all but become Buck's shadow, following the blond around either on foot or horse-back, that ever growing reverence and smitten expression intensifying with every word or look Buck offered him.

The man practically had hearts for pupils, and Bucky didn't know if Buck was stupid or ignorant, or just that damned innocently clueless that he didn't realise that Rosie had the biggest damn crush this side of the equator, but it was really starting to rub Bucky the wrong way.

It left a sour taste in his mouth, especially when he noticed more and more the answering soft smiles or laughs Buck would direct right back at Rosie.

That burning feeling deep in the core of him started eating away, until his heart started constricting in a valiant effort to protect itself from the flames, until his thoughts were swallowed with it every waking moment.

It only seemed to drive the flames further that very morning when for the first time in a while, Bucky had woken up to the realisation that Buck's side of the bed was empty, already cold from the amount of time that the blond had been vacant from it.

It had taken him a few groggy moments to blink the sleep away from his mind, frowning in confusion as to why he hadn't woken up to the smaller man being tucked into his side and waiting for him to wake before he started to get ready for the day.

He'd stumbled out of bed, yawning wide with a stretch and walking over to the small kitchenette to flick the kettle on, intent on making coffee, when the familiar sound of Buck's laugh had reached him from outside the trailer.

Bucky had walked over to the small trailer window that was faced towards the arena in the distance, and had managed to notice the two figures by the rails in the early morning light.

Buck was standing beside Baby, the mare fully tacked up with her head down managing to slip in a quick nap, his arms rested up on a higher rail, his posture relaxed and easy going. He had his back to the trailer, but John would be able to pick that cowboy out among a crowd of a million.

He would have also been able to pick out Rosie, who was standing on the other side of the fence, his own horse pawing lazily in the sand behind him in boredom as the two men talked in a low murmur into the early morning air.

Bucky watched in silence, breath catching in his throat as Rosie smiled, all timid but flirtatious, and reached out to put his hand on Buck's arm where it was leaned against the rail.

Buck laughed, face tilting down to stare at the dirt below, and didn't move his arm out from underneath Rosie's touch.

Bucky made himself look away, something horrid and hurtful squeezing his chest and throat.

He reached for the kettle which had started squealing at him as if it was mocking his misery.

--

The night before the rodeo, the usual tradition of beers and bonfire gets amped up in to full swing, a pre-rodeo celebration as well as a late welcome party for the new ropers before the big day.

The fire is bigger than just a measly fire pit this time, Curt and Ken having convinced Chick to call in to the owners of the current rodeo grounds and get permission to build a bigger bonfire in one of the designated spots on site.

It only takes a couple of hours to have the permission texted back, and even less time for the group as a whole to have built up a fairly decently sized bonfire that crackles and whooshes to life to the answering manic cackling of Curt like some mischievous gremlin in the echoes of it.

Brady and Hambone had gone into town in Brady's pickup to get the alcohol, and promptly returned soon after with enough cases of beer of several different brands, as well as a few bottles of stronger stuff that in whole could satiate an entire army and still have a fair portion left over in the morning.

By the time the sun has disappeared behind the distant hills, a familiar lull of some random country playlist murmuring behind the voices of the boys from a Bluetooth speaker, Bucky had already meandered his way past Brady and a few of the others to pluck two beers from the crate on the fold out table and flop himself into his usual camper chair.

He observes the others in a calm disinterested silence as he pops the top off his first beer and takes a heated and long pull from it, relishing in the sharp taste as the cooled liquid slips down his throat.

It settles on top of the burning pit that had become a permanent fixture in his abdomen, soaking it up and dampening it a small amount once the alcohol finally starts digging its fingers in.

In a good turn of events, the newer boys, Nash and Speas and Pappy had all but been accepted rightfully and instantly amongst the league of the others, all fanning off into their respective little circles to talk and make good atmosphere.

They melded in like they'd always been there, and it did make Bucky happy that Brady and Cros and all the other boys had ushered the others into those circles like long lost brothers.

Rosie had been accepted just as easily too, the man's good nature and kindness earning him the same back tenfold amongst the boys.

But as Bucky's gaze comes to rest on the man in question from across the fire, standing close with Buck, smile soft and direct as he lowers his head closer to Buck's ear to be heard over the roar of the fire and the music, Bucky can't help the possessive jealousy that instantly cuts into his very soul at the sight.

Feels even worse when Buck looks up at the other roper through his dark blond lashes with an answering soft smile, and tries to dampen the feeling again by taking another aggressive mouthful from the beer bottle in his hand.

He can feel the jealousy spark and rip up into him when Rosie obviously tells Buck something that has the blond throwing his head back in a laugh, Rosie's eyes trailing over the expanse of his throat, and Bucky toys with the idea of getting up and waltzing over there to plant one very giant possessive and territorial kiss onto the cowboy's mouth in a show of dominance.

Knows that he can't, though, just in case.

Knows that none of his boys would bat an eye at it. But he doesn't know the thoughts of the new boys, of Nash and Speas and Pappy, enough that he would risk him and Buck being shunned because the new men were the same type that would have crucified them where they stand and then proceed to slander his and Buck's names through the rodeo circuits like a disgusting curse, all because of bigoted religion.

The way that Rosie is currently staring at Buck though, all wide eyed and giddy and adoring, has Bucky half ready to do exactly what his invasive thoughts are screaming at him to do, let that festering possessive emotion culminate into acting on it.

He's just about to rise from his seat, thighs tensing when Curt's voice sounds from right beside him, close enough to his ear that it has the larger cowboy startle and nearly lose the the death grip of a hold that he has on his beer.

"The wind changes too quick and your face is gonna get stuck like that,"

Bucky whips his face around to the smug grin of Curt's right next to him, but the shorter man's eyes are currently looking over to where Buck and Rosie are still standing. Still talking close and soft.

Still ripping at Bucky's insides in a dangerous game.

Bucky lets a long winded sigh rush from his lungs, making his body settle back into the chair at the feeling of Curt's hand coming up to rest on his shoulder and squeeze from where he's bent over to talk to John.

He pats John's shoulder in a good natured gesture before taking the empty camp chair beside him, throwing himself into it with a grunt.

"Your boy's been making new friends, huh?"

John snorts, a cruel, sharp sound, and takes another sip from his beer. "Somethin' like that."

He's focused back on Rosie and Buck, surprised neither of them can feel the heat of John's stare, but he can see Curt glance at him from the corner of his eye. Can see the way the other observes him, running his eyes up and down John before sighing and clasping his hands together in contemplation.

"And.. how do you feel about it?"

John forces his eyes away for a moment, looks at Curt in a questioning way, before looking back across the fire. "He can do whatever he wants. 'm not his keeper."

Curt lets his head loll back in exasperation at John's words, disbelief as he looks up at the dark night sky above them before looking back down at Bucky.

"True. True, but, you are his man. His whole world, if you wanna put it bluntly I 'spose."

Bucky flicks his tongue out to lick his lips, the heat of the fire leaving them dry and uncomfortable. A complimenting feeling to the one in his chest.

"Seems his orbit has extended a bit," Bucky remarks, and isn't prepared for the feeling of Curt's hand cuffing him up the back of the head in a rapid strike.

His hat flies off and falls into his lap, and he can't help the affronted noise that makes its way out of his throat as he turns to Curt with wide, shocked eyes and a slack jaw.

Curt's staring him down with a look of disbelief and barely concealed annoyance, light blue eyes cutting through the very recesses of his soul and down to the bone. It makes Bucky want to shrink down into the collar of his coat, like frightened turtle hiding itself away from a predator.

"The fuck y' do that for!?" he yelps, rubbing at the back of his head tenderly at the still smarting impact that Curt made. It was more shock than anything, barely something resembling actual hurt, but he rubbed at it all the same.

Curt pointed his finger at him, jabbing in his direction, face still impossibly hard and serious. "I know you're a bull rider, but god, you can't actually be that dense."

Bucky opens his mouth to protest, but Curt shushes him, making him snap his jaw closed.

"That man over there thinks the goddamn world of you, John Egan. I've seen and heard things I wish I never did, but by god if there's one thing I do know, is that he only has eyes for you, no matter what your dumb mushed up brain is telling you. Or how much better Rosie's moustache is than yours,"

John looks at Curt with feigned hurt, an affronted scoff falling from his mouth but before he can retort, Curt cuts him off again with another well aimed jab of his finger, this time straight into Bucky's chest.

"I may have known you since highschool, Bucky, but I've known Gale a long fuckin' time too. Long before you showed up in our circuit. That man is the sweetest, most loyal soul in existence, and if you ever think that he'd give you up when he looks at you the way he does, I'll bury your body myself and leave a fuckin' note on his trailer door."

Bucky swallows, letting his eyes wander from Curt's back over to where Buck is standing with Rosie, still talking, and feels his heart stutter when Gale's eyes finally find him over the flames.

They lock on to him, and his expression and smile softens into something so adoring and beautiful that it steals John's breath right from his lungs.

He doesn't have the chance to smile back before Buck turns back to his conversation, Nash having joined him and Rosie, and John forces himself to look back at Curt again.

The other man is staring at him, no less intense, but there's something understanding there now too. He looks between Bucky's eyes, sitting back when he finds whatever he was looking for, and plucks Bucky's beer right from his hand to steal a swig.

John doesn't even try to protest, just glares un-bitingly in disapproval as he takes the beer back with a swipe when Curt offers it back.

"All I'm saying is, think for a minute or two for me, yeah? Before you go ripping Rosie to pieces over something that's not even there. You'd be surprised." Curt tells him softly, reaching out to Bucky's knee to pat it before hoisting himself up and starting to walk around the fire to where Ken is sitting with Douglas and Everett on the tailgate of Brady's pickup.

He watches as Ken's face lights up like the moon sitting high above them, letting Curt fit himself in between his legs dangling over the edge of the tailgate and leaning down to press a gentle kiss to Curt's lips.

Everett wolf whistles in a quiet tone as Curt pulls Ken's arms around his waist with a smile, before Curt turns back around to Bucky, fixing him with a pointed look before bringing two fingers up and making the telltale 'I'm watching you' gesture between his own eyes and John's several times.

Bucky sees Ken look up to him too, a knowing smile aimed pointedly at him and Bucky feels like he's being judged over information he's not at all privvy to.

--

The rodeo the next day goes off without a hitch.

John absolutely decimates the lineup of bull riders with a near perfect score that has him throwing his hat off into the crowd with a well aimed toss as the announcer praises him name over the loudspeakers, just barely audible above the sound of the crowd and their exuberance.

He even landed on his feet this time, granted wobbling just that tiny bit and nearly face planting in to the sand as Curt rushed past him in his rodeo clown get-up to distract the bull, before he managed to catch his balance and sprint up to the chutes and leap his way out of the bull's raging war-path.

He had felt the heat of the bull's breath over the denim on his thigh as it had brushed past him, but it only kept that adrenaline rushing through every vein in his body, ramping it up to that next level as he'd been grinning like mad man, laughing at the rush.

After he'd calmed down and made his way into the alleys behind the chutes to get a better view of the arena, sweat damp hair falling into his eyes, he'd waited patiently while the officials had raked over the arena with the tractor for the ropers.

Felt the rapid thundering of his heart in his chest speed back up in anticipation of watching Buck take his run, only giving the thought of him partnering with Rosie as his heeler a momentary allowance before the speakers crackled back to life and the crowd started filtering back into the stands after a brief intermission.

Speas and Pappy went first, nailing their run and managing to heal and head the steer in almost perfect form, the two men smiling wide and giving each other high fives from where they were seated up on their horses as they rode past and then back into the alley to make way for the next pair.

It was a waiting game for Bucky, three more pairs of riders having their goes before finally he spotted Buck trotting a very eager Baby up to the starting pen.

The mare was bobbing up and down in excitement under him, nostrils flaring and tail swishing while Buck checked his rope, one set held between his teeth as he coiled the excess into perfect loops in one hand, giving no mind to Baby's barely contained energy.

Bucky couldn't help the smile from spreading across his face, bringing one boot up to rest on the bottom rail as Buck and Rosie finally squared up into their positions.

He kept his eyes resolutely on Buck, seeing the moment he glanced down at the cowboy manning the steer chute and giving that telltale nod.

And then they were off.

It barely felt like a blink in time as John watched, seeing the two riders move perfectly in sync as they took off after the steer, hot on its heels and lassos twirling with practised ease.

Buck had cast his out into a perfectly aimed arc and roped the steer's horns in a matter of seconds, shortly followed by Rosie capturing its heels and then it was a quick flurry of the two pulling their respective horses into the normal halt.

The horses knowing exactly what they were supposed to do and making everything look so easy Bucky wondered if they could have done the maneuvers without their riders, just memory alone.

John was expecting it, knowing that the fluid movements both Rosie and Buck had worked were the picture perfect dream team, but even as the scores were tallied up at the end of the event, he couldn't help the way his heart raced at hearing Buck's name spoken out in victory, letting out a loud celebratory whistle in the blond cowboy's celebration.

Seeing the way the other man had looked up into the crowd, taking in the fact that they were cheering for him and Rosie and the wide, bright smile that had lit up his face in turn lit up Bucky's entire soul, and he couldn't help mirroring it.

But he also couldn't help the way that the sinking feeling returned to his stomach when he watched Buck and Rosie ride up to each other, clasping hands and pulling each other in to a quick one armed hug, smiles beaming.

So when all was said and done, he turned his eyes away and decided to make his way back to Buck's trailer to strip off his gear and start to settle himself down in the adrenalised aftermath.

He resolutely ignored the tight restricting feeling crawling its way up his throat.

He had only been in Buck's trailer for a matter of minutes, hands fumbling with the straps of his protective vest in anticipation of stripping himself of the heavy material, when the trailer door had slammed shut behind him and startled him in to turning around.

Buck was standing there, but was very pointedly staring at the trailer floor, hands on his hips over the leather of his chaps and taking a long, deep breath out from his nostrils, face blank and unreadable.

Bucky took a small step back when he felt the sudden tense air fill the small space of the trailer, taking in the hard and trembling line of Buck's shoulders, heaving slightly with what John could only discern as barely concealed rage.

He didn't dare speak, just standing there with his fingers still paused in the movement of undoing his vest straps, and watched the way Buck's eyes still wouldn't meet his, the steely blue gaze hard and unflinching but flickering back and forth with silent thoughts.

Both cowboys stood there for what felt like an age, neither daring to move lest the other lash out like a snake at any sudden move, and Bucky could feel his heart sink lower and lower the longer Buck kept silent, dread crawling up his throat and into his mouth in a sickening wave.

When that feeling felt like it was about to bubble out of him like an overflowing shaken up coke bottle, he parted his mouth, trying to get some type of sound or word out, but snapped his jaw shut again when Buck whipped his head up to stare straight at him.

It felt like those blue eyes were boring holes into his very soul, stormy and enraged and something else that Bucky couldn't quite discern and didn't necessarily want to.

He kept himself still, not wanting Buck to unleash whatever was building there inside his head, just stared right back, wanting but not able to break their stares for fear of what would happen if he did.

So when Buck finally moved, making a beeline straight for him, eyes still sharp and unreadable, Bucky found himself taking another small step back, steeling himself as Buck got closer and closer until he got so close that Bucky felt himself swallow in a suddenly dry throat, ready for the rage of Buck's words to finally pour out.

He took a small breath, not afraid of Buck but afraid of how truthful Buck's words would be, but instead found himself making a small sound of surprise as two hands came up to grab the sides of his face and drag him downwards into a fierce bruising kiss against the other man's lips.

It only took him a few scant moments before he let the tension ooze out of his body and melt into the other, allowing his eyes to close as Buck kissed him harshly, digging his thumbs into the sides of Bucky's jaw until he parted his lips properly and was rewarded with Buck's tongue invading his mouth with an energy he was struggling to compete with.

He risked moving his own hands, abandoning the straps he didn't realise he was still holding on to and fit them perfectly against the curve of Gale's ass, squeezing against the denim and soft leather of the chaps and pulling the smaller man's hips against his own.

Bucky couldn't help the disappointed groan he let slip when Gale pulled his lips away from his, breath panting hot and rapid over his lips in a staticky wild energy, both men's eyes still squeezed shut at the onslaught of emotion suddenly coursing through them.

He felt Buck's fingers shift back from his jaw to grip harshly at the longer curls at the back of his head, pulling until a sharp pain made him groan again against Gale's lips.

"You're such a fuckin' idiot, John Egan."

John felt his eyes fly open, a confused frown pulling at his brow as he finally looked at Buck, who was staring at him with that same stormy anger he had seen when the other man had entered the trailer.

He let his gaze scan over Gale's features, sitting on the kiss swollen redness of his lips before making eye contact again.

"What?"

Buck sighed, sharp and irritated and tugged at John's hair again that had Bucky hissing through his teeth as Buck knocked their foreheads together harshly.

"I said, that you're an idiot, and I can't believe you thought for even a second that I would ever think of replacing you, or be jealous of Rosie, for Christ's sake."

John gaped at Buck's words, feeling hot shame and embarrassment coil into his stomach, and had no doubt that his face was turning a bright shade of red as he cringed.

He looked away from Buck's eyes for a few seconds, trying to wrangle that shame under control before he looked back at him. He could feel the way his face melted into something sad and shameful, and he couldn't control it.

"Buck, I-"

"Shutup, and listen to me for a second. When I told you, all those weeks ago that you had made your home in my heart, I damn well meant it. And I don't know about you, but I mean what I say."

The shame increased for a few moments before something that felt suspiciously like relief started to chase it away, a new sensation building as he stared at Buck.

He took in the raw emotion that was growing in the blond's expression, the way his lips trembled slightly and the crease between his brows, a bead of sweat trailing from his hair and down the side of his face.

He couldn't help but think Buck was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, a thought that often overtook every waking moment.

"Rosie is not interested in me like that, John. And I can tell you that with complete honesty, right now. He respects me, is starstruck by me, has looked up to my dad and now me since he was a kid. There is nothing there besides respect and adoration for my riding and my name."

John swallows heavily, the shame now disappearing completely, and he suddenly thinks that he would really, really like to kiss the man standing in front of him again. "But I-"

Buck brings one hand around to grip Bucky's jaw in between his fingers giving him a gentle shake to quiet him again.

"Besides," Buck murmurs suddenly, a small grin crawling its way on to his lips, and Bucky watches the motion with reverence before returning his hold on Buck's eyes, which have gone softer in their intensity. "He likes Crosby."

Bucky feels his brain short circuit, like someone has cut the wires again, leaving him in a state of sudden confusion and shock like Buck had just slapped him with the hand still holding his jaw.

The sudden images of small secretive smiles, of giddy looks and signs that he had resolutely ignored, had pushed down into the back of his mind like unimportant information because all he had been focused on was Buck and Rosie, suddenly made him feel, indeed, very stupid.

He frowned at Buck, mouth opening and closing a few times as Buck watched all the pieces click into place in his mind with a self satisfied smirk on the blond's lips.

"Crosby!? Wh- How the hell do you know that?"

Buck laughed, low and quiet, and let his grip on John's jaw loosen slightly, thumb stroking over the sharp angle of it.

"Curt." He said simply.

Bucky sputtered, still trying to process the onslaught of information that he had suddenly been made aware of in such a short amount of time, and his head started to ache.

"How the hell does Curt know that?" John questioned. He brought his hands that were still sitting against the curve of Buck's ass up to rest comfortingly against the shape of his waist in a comforting hold. Buck rolled his eyes, his smirk only growing. "Curt knows everything, you should know this. He's also the reason I found out you were being a jealous idiot for the past week."

Bucky cleared his throat at Buck's words, averting his eyes in embarrassment and cursing under his breath, but was quickly pulled back by Buck's hand so he was face to face with the other man once again.

He was also face to face with Buck's sudden look of complete fond adoration, eyes partially lidded and staring over the contours of his face, eyes scanning every inch of it like he was seeing the stars for the first time.

He felt the continuous movement of Buck's thumb running against the skin of his jaw, the barely there whisper of movement that sent a shiver straight up his spine in an electric over load from being the sudden subject of Buck's soft attention.

"Told you you should'a worn a helmet. Your brain's startin' to turn to mush," Buck smiled up at him, amusement plain on his beautiful face and Bucky felt himself mirror it with a raised brow.

"Oh ha ha, Cleven's got jokes," he purred, slowly lowering his face down to Buck's until he pressed his lips gently against Gale's, feeling the ghost of his smart-ass smile melt away into John's ministrations.

He flexed his fingers against Buck's waist and the other leaned into the kiss perfectly, hand that had been gripping John's jaw finally releasing its hold and running down the column of his throat, fingers caressing in a barely there touch that had Bucky groaning into him.

The sound of familiar muffled voices outside the trailer suddenly had Bucky snapping his eyes open with realisation, pulling away from Buck's mouth suddenly as he leaned over to the window, reaching out with one arm.

Buck made a disappointed sound where he was still held carefully with John's other arm as the bull rider flicked the glass of the window open, face leaning closer to the opening as he shouted out into the open campground.

"You're a fuckin' traitor, Biddick! A big fat goddamn traitor!"

Curt's barked out laughter reached them from a short distance away, a half cut off 'You're welcome!' shouted back in answer as Bucky slammed the sliding glass shut and cut the world out again, leaving him and Buck standing in the ensuing silence.

Turning his attention back to Buck with a soft smile, he noticed the blond cowboy's eyes had dropped from his face down to the expanse of his chest, and he followed his gaze down to where Buck was suddenly fiddling absentmindedly with the still half-done straps of his vest.

Buck cut his eyes up to his again, smile spreading across his face, all sweetness and barely concealed mischief held behind the blue, and Bucky felt his cock stir unhelpfully against the harsh denim seam of his jeans.

With slow practiced ease, Buck lent up, by-passing Bucky's lips completely and instead brushed his lips against the shell of John's ear, making the taller man shiver and tighten his hold back on the waist between his fingers.

"Get this off, and get your ass up on that bed, now," Buck purred, low and so dangerously rumbled that it had Bucky huffing out a breath of surprise as Buck suddenly moved back and pushed a hand against his chest, making him stumble back a few steps.

He watched Buck with wide eyes as the other started fumbling with the buckles holding his roping chaps around his hips, eyes never leaving John's and Bucky felt his brain suddenly kick back in to gear, heart pounding in excitement.

He turned away from Buck for a few moments to hoist himself up onto the mattress of the bed in the loft, almost tripping in his haste and hands flying down to rip the straps of his vest open.

"Sir, yes sir, King Cleven," he teased, letting out a breathless 'oof' as he turned around to recieve a boot straight to the center of his chest, grabbing it before it fell to the floor with a laugh of surprise and then a yelp as a body quickly followed.

[rmxsolution]

The Complete Guide to Setting Up a Modern M Sand Plant

As the demand for construction materials grows, the importance of sustainable and efficient sand manufacturing becomes more evident. One of the critical components in modern construction is M Sand (Manufactured Sand), which is an excellent alternative to natural sand.

This guide will walk you through the process of setting up a modern M Sand Plant, covering the essential components such as the Plaster Sand Making Unit, Dry Sand Washing System, and more.

What is M Sand?

M Sand, also known as Artificial Sand, is created by crushing solid rocks to produce smaller particles that closely resemble natural sand in quality. Its durability and affordability make it a popular choice in the construction sector. By setting up m sand factories, companies can fulfill the market need for high-quality sand and help promote sustainable construction methods.

The Importance of M Sand in Modern Construction

With the depletion of natural sand resources, M Sand has become a crucial alternative for modern construction projects. It offers a sustainable and cost-effective solution without compromising the quality of the final product. By setting up an M Sand Plant, companies can tap into the growing demand for environmentally friendly sand that meets industry standards.

Compliance and Quality Control in M Sand Plants

Quality control is critical in Sand Manufacturing to ensure the sand meets industry regulations and project-specific requirements. By using advanced equipment like the Dry Sand Washing System and conducting regular checks, you can maintain consistent particle size, purity, and moisture levels in the sand. Setting up a proper system for compliance also ensures your M Sand Plant meets environmental and safety standards.

Essential Components of an M Sand Plant

When setting up an M Sand Plant, it’s essential to understand the various components that make up the facility. Each unit plays a significant role in the overall efficiency and quality of the sand produced.

1. Plaster Sand Making Unit A Plaster Sand Making Unit is a crucial part of any M Sand Plant. It is specifically designed to produce fine, plaster-grade sand, essential for plastering walls and other surfaces. This unit ensures that the sand particles are uniform in size and shape, improving the quality of the end product.

2. Dry Sand Washing System The Dry Sand Washing System is another vital component. This system ensures that the sand produced is free from impurities like dust, clay, and other particles. Unlike traditional wet washing, the dry system saves water, making it an environmentally friendly option.

3. Plaster Sand Classifier In order to achieve the desired particle size for plaster sand, a Plaster Sand Classifier is used. This equipment separates sand particles based on size, ensuring that only high-quality, fine particles are used in plaster applications. This contributes to superior plaster finish and reduced material wastage.

4. Dry Sand Washer The Dry Sand Washer plays a crucial role in removing unwanted contaminants from the sand. Unlike the traditional wet process, the dry method ensures that the sand is completely dry and ready for use, reducing the need for drying time before it can be used in construction.

Benefits of an M Sand Plant

Setting up an M Sand Plant has numerous benefits. In addition to addressing the increasing need for top-notch sand in construction, it also aids in sustainability by decreasing dependence on natural sand.

Major advantages include: Cost effective: Synthetic sand is cheaper than natural sand, reducing overall construction costs.

Consistency: The use of advanced equipment such as plaster sand makers and plaster sand filters ensures sand consistency in all types of projects.

Environmental Sustainability: By using dry sand washes, businesses can reduce water consumption and help protect the environment.

Increased efficiency: Modern sanding and processing machines increase the overall efficiency of sand production, producing more in a shorter period of time.

Choosing the Right Equipment for Your M Sand Plant

Investing in the right equipment is essential to the success of your M Sand Plant. At RCMPL (your company), we offer state-of-the-art Sand Processing Equipment that ensures efficiency and sustainability. From Dry Sand Washers to Plaster Sand Classifiers we offer the complete range of equipment needed to build a modern Plaster Sand Plant.

Our machines are designed to reduce maintenance costs, improve productivity and deliver consistent results. With decades of experience in the industry, RCMPL is your trusted partner in setting up a successful m sand plant. See RCMPL for more information about our product offerings.

Conclusion

Setting up a modern M Sand Plant is an excellent investment for businesses looking to meet the growing demand for high-quality sand in construction. With components like the Plaster Sand Making Unit, Dry Sand Washing System, and Plaster Sand Classifier, the process of producing M Sand is more efficient, environmentally friendly, and cost-effective than ever before. By choosing the right equipment and processes, you can ensure the success and sustainability of your sand manufacturing business.

If you’re looking to set up an M Sand Plant, RCMPL offers a complete range of solutions tailored to your needs. Explore our offerings today at RCMPL and get started on building a plant that will support the future of construction.

[smokeygrayrabbits]

maybe plants run cold, so vash and nai would curl up to eachother, or rem, or the nice toasty vents on their sisters tanks and just, cling and flop and nap. that's all gone now. no rem. no nai. no safe home where he can lay at his sisters feet while they whisper stories and songs to him.so vash used to just lay on the hot sand and take a lil nap. but he has friends now!!! so he just kinda flops on them instead. he can often be seen pulling Meryl onto his lap like a lil hot water bottle, or draped around Milly's shoulders like a scarf, or laying across Roberto's lap, or plastered to wolfwood as they drive.

vash's grabbiness gets varied reactions.

meryl just gets used to it when vash does grabby hands at her.

Milly, like the absolute saint that she is, just accepts it. even going so far as to pick vash up and tuck him into her side when she thinks he looks a little too chilly on long desert nights.

Roberto pretends to be bothered, but isnt. like Milly, he also sees right through vash and will sometimes throw an arm around the plants shoulders, claiming that vash is like his portable ac.

he does it to wolfwood, who reacts differently depending on the day. sometimes wrapping vash up in his arms, other times just shifting the punisher off his shoulder and carrying vash around like a scarf / backpack. wolfwood is vry strong man. he doesn't even falter when vash does it.

extra sleepy / drunk vash just kinda climbs into wolfwoods lap, who is Very Flustered™.they're in the middle of a bar!! what are you doing needle noggin!!!Vash slurring and giggling that Wolfwood is waaaarm. wolfwood does absolutely nothing to remove him.

nai, who also runs cold, has a little heatty vent he lays on and makes a blanket oven out of his gate. (like that one part in diary of a wimpy kid)

nai fr^ 📸

[bonnymori]

Captain's food rolls

A/N: This is me trying out writing again, seeing the scene where Kid and Luffy eat a bunch of mochi in Udon gave me an idea. This work feels very goofy for me lol, this whole post is silly, including the pics, I think I'm gonna use this format for now

Word count: 1,3k

Contents/Warnings: Silliness ahead, two lovers being silly. Next up is a law draft ig, either law or killer or heat

The sand under your boots is a comforting contrast from the crass waves of the sea, rumbling and coming near your feet - but not reaching quite yet.

It's unusual, but today is a great day, after a great battle against many marine ships, that you honestly wouldn't dare count, the Kidd pirates share a feast and drinks in a pacific island (even though Kidd scored the secluded place with no 'pacific' methods).

What is unusual, you would ask? Well, normally on the day-to-day of the Kidd pirates, meals are fulfilling, but not so much as to be bloated after eating. Of course, the massacre soldier – and crew's chef – Killer goes great lengths to make sure every member eats well and has a chance of asking for more, but still, in the sea you can ever eat so much, food needs to be watched so the ship doesn't run out again.

In a banquet, though, it's highly different.

The other pirates were kind – terrified – enough to make the beach look very presentable, placing up lighting upon the coconut trees and laying out tables for your friends to enjoy. It looks like some sort of luau, an illuminated beach next to the pitch black ocean, with lots of barbecued meat and endless pitchers of beer. The crew is scattered over the place, most of them are still eating, a few went down the city to find a pretty face to sleep with, and some of them who've had enough of eating are busy playing cards, such as Heat and Wire – you can always observe how they finish eating together, and go kill time together, it's a heartwarming friendship (or more?) between pirates, very similar to the captain and his right hand man.

Speaking of which, during these celebrations, the captain's table is always at the center, a big round table where he can lay down plates and food to scarf down as the night goes on. You observe the captain, aka your lover, fill his belly with delicious meat and booze, a small smile forming on your lips as you know what to expect when the party ends.

It's when something unusual happens, and you can't help but feel giddy.

"Your social energy has ended already, Y/N?" A pair of crewmates join your table, more specifically Hip and Emma, who also seem to huddle together whether to dance or eat during the feasts.

"I guess yes, you always come to a more far away table when you get tired of partying around." Emma answers Hip's query herself, bringing her beer mug to toast with yours, which differently than hers, is almost empty. She observes the small grin plastered on your face and chuckles, "I bet you were looking at the captain just now."

"My, you caught me red-handed." They both giggle at your comment, and you prop your chin on your hand, thinking of a good response, "You know I can't help it, he always looks pretty cute and round after eating so much."

"Yeah, when that happens he can't be rough around the edges anymore, afterall he won't have any edges!" Hip exclaims then covers her mouth to laugh, pulling Emma with her to Wire's table, "We're gonna gamble too, see you Y/N!"

You wave bye-bye to the duo, they are so very sweet.

As they walk away, you glance yet again at your beloved Kidd only to see that he has given up eating to chug on a few pitches of beer, excitedly talking to Killer in the process. Since you don't like approaching while he's eating – it's so messy he's akin to a piggy – you decide to go see him now, just because you'd like to kiss him bye-bye before you retire to the ship.

He doesn't seem to notice when you appear, planting a kiss on his goggles-free forehead, "Hi Kiddo, having fun so far?"

"Heck yes babe, I'm stuffed, and not even done yet." The redhead doesn't even mind the affection, too buzzed and full to protest. You look down, and it looks like he's already displaying a little belly.

You gasp lightly when his arm loops around your waist, your own arms embracing his shoulders and bringing his head closer to give him another kiss, this time in the top of his head – which he happily leans into, after all his hair is a soft spot.

To think about it, from this angle above, his hair really looks like a tulip.

He seems to indulge in your kisses, the alcohol making him loose to public displays of affection.

"Okay okay," You say while pulling him off from you, his arm is bulky but he's weaker from the beer, "I came to tell you I'm heading to the ship to take a short nap. See you later lov."

His eyes blink open, staring at you for a short moment where he lets you go with a 'okey' – you think he got the memo just fine.

Your trek to the ship is quickened by your jumpy strut.

Nap well taken, you've decided to wait for your lover on the deck, knowing very well most of the crew must be passed out on the beach, whether it be the sand or upon the tables or chairs, some would even sleep over the grill so as not to lay on the ground – you can think of a few that would be laying on the tables as well. The point is, nobody really could bother you both at this moment.

Oh lawd he's coming, is your first thought, spotting a big red dot far from the ship, walking with no difficulty yet swaying nonetheless, you just know Kidd is going to have a killer hangover tomorrow.

It's unusual, only happening during the days he feels famished enough to eat for three people in one sitting, his tough muscles disappearing under the new gained weight, how he does it, you cannot know.

But every time you think, he looks so cute.

Your big, angry boyfriend now turned into a big, round boyfriend climbs the plank ladder that leads up on the deck, stopping only once he is a few steps away from you.

There, he flops on the floor, sitting as he looks at you expectantly, knowing damn well that you like his softness when he's chubby like this.

"It's fucking weird the fact you think I look… nice like this." Eustass is the first to break the silence, avoiding the word 'cute' as he huffs at you. It seems his angry act is back, now that he might be a little sober.

Kid groans at your giggle of amusement.

"You look so squishy and soft, I can't help but love your rolls." You walk over to him and make yourself comfortable at his side, resting your head on him but not your weight, or else gastric reflux could a bitch about it at any moment.

He rolls his eyes and looks away with a small blush, his arm looping over your waist much like in the party – at this point, this action feels so familiar to you, you can almost feel it when it comes next. "Satisfied?"

"Very much." You chuckle at him, and silently, sneak your hand up to squeeze one of his chubs.

The big red lets out a yelp caused by the unexpected action, glaring angrily at you. "Hey!"

Even though his tough act, on the inside, Kidd was actually happy to receive free affection, being the selfish bastard he is. At the same time, he couldn't be more relieved, knowing that you could have reacted the opposite of this, and thankfully, you had not. And he loved you for it. But of course, he'd never say that even in a million years.

Eventually, the both of you stilled, the playful bicker coming to an end as the sea waves filled in the silence.

Now there are only two lovers, sleeping soundly side to side.

And content smiles on their faces.

[alpaca-clouds]

Can you help debunk what I have been told that solar panels are bad for the environment and cause more waste because they take a long time to decompose and wear out in a couple years?

Okay, let me try and answer this. Because yes, this is a more complicated issue, than a lot of people make it out to be.

So, let me start with the big thing that gets often overlooked: Without even looking into ressource use, big photovoltaic power plans have definitely a negative environmental impact. Not as a negative as anything fossil energy related, but negative never the less.

With power plants I mean those giant fields where we plaster photovoltaic panels over acres of land, to have a central power plant based around photovoltaic. And while we might not get around some of those big power plants, part of the energy revolution should be to move towards micro grids instead of current macro grids (so, decentralization), hence lowering the need of central powerplants.

Now, a lot of people who are anti-pv - mostly people who are from the fossil fuel lobby, but also some nuclear-lobby folks - tend to exaggerate those negative impacts... But they are still there. (Mostly having to do with depending on the type of pv panel used they can impact the ground temperature - and of course they just disrupt the environment.)

Sooo... Let's get to the raw materials. The important bit in photovoltaic is silicon. And this is one of the good old environmentalist "well actaully" things. Because when I was a kid I got told: "Oh, silicon is never a problem, because it is just sand! We have so much sand!" But of course I learned that it is not quite as easy. Because not all sand is created equal and not all can be used for stuff like concrete (which is shit either way), glass or photovoltaic.

Though still it is not as much of an issue as a lot of rare earth materials. Some of which are currently used in photovoltaic. But here is the other thing...

Photovoltaic is currently one of the fastest developing energy technologies. Basically anything I am gonna tell you here will be outdated next year. I guarantee.

But yes, in the creation of photovoltaic we currently use rare earth metals, that are at times sourced through bad means. Both in terms of it being mined through slave work and through the mining being done in a way that harms the environment. But... for one, we are currently working on reducing the need for rare earth metals in the creation of photovoltaic. And like with nuclear materials: We could mine the materials in a much more sustainable way - both on a social and ecological level. It is just that the current capitalist system has all the incentives to mine those materials wiht exploited workers or even slaves, and to not take care of the waste created in the mining operation.

And this gets us back to the recycling.

Short version: Yeah, we have ways to recycle about 65-80% of the materials in a photovoltaic panel. And like everything else: We are working on it and it will probably go up to 90%. But once again: Like with all recycling the issue is, that recycling materials is way more expensive than getting new materials. Which is why under capitalism all the things we could recycle often do not get recycled.

But it is possible.

tl;dr: Yes, there are drawbacks to photovoltaic, but it is not as bad as many make it seem. And a ton of the drawbacks are not inevitable but only exist because of capitalism.

[poisonouswritings]

Okay...hear me out..but ear kisses for Sage.

Like just- MC and Sage are cuddling or smth and MC just cups his ear and plants a smooch right there.

And our boy would be sooooo flustered. And then MC plants more, and more and more. And he's just so giggly.

( on the more dirty side note.. cats ears are very sensitive, so with MC warm lips planted on his ears, breath trickling down his fur. He just freaks.)

- No-shame-anon 🤫

I think about Sage's ears. All the time. Actually.

GN!Reader, sort of a scene, suggestive headcanon stuff towards the bottom but nothing too intense so I won't be tagging it as NSFW or anything but I'll have a mini disclaimer, red text is Sage's thoughts, I haven't really done any writing in like a month so sorry if this is bad!!

Sage has always been very particular about his ears. He didn't let you touch them until he really trusted you (he says it was only because he was cold but you know how he is), and if anyone else tries then they get growled at/bit. And when you're brushing his hair, you have to be mindful of his ears. The bristles of the brush can be painful if you don't do it gently enough, and he doesn't like the feeling of it anyways.

But then he manages to get a bunch of gunk in his hair - and no you're not really sure how, he went out drinking with Tulsi and that's the best explanation you're getting - and you're the one that has to wash and comb it out.

So you do. Slowly, carefully, gently, trying not to pull too much. And he grumbles and growls and bites at the brush but that's what he always does anyways. Frankly, he's more well-behaved than usual, though that might just be because he wants it done faster. You talk to him throughout the process, trying to keep him calm. Tell a few stupid jokes, tease him here and there, that sorta thing. It seems to be working...

Until Stella wanders into your room.

Then Sage is trying to jump up to chase her away. You have to wrap your arms around him and hold him in place because running around will only make his hair/tangles worse. And the best way to get him to stop trying to run around?

Smooching his ear!

It stops him cold. Or, well, hot. His cheeks go red and he gets that adorable flustered smile on his face and his tail starts wagging wildly. The more you smooch him, the more he purrs. It's almost enough to make him forget about Stella.

Almost.

Then she hops on your bed and starts gnawing at your pillow and he actually does chase her away.

But now you know a new way to get him flustered!

---

The next time you try it is at the tavern. Sage is getting a little too overstimulated and he can't calm down on his own. It doesn't help that some of his old "friends" are riling him up. 'After all,' they say, 'Sage is only any fun to be around when he's plastered.'

Needless to say you don't like them.

Currently they're trying to pull Sage out of the booth and over to the bar to play darts and do shots. When he tries to turn them down they start needling him, saying he's gone soft. Is he really that whipped? Doesn't he wanna impress you? He better toughen up, or someone else is gonna catch your eye-

You promptly lean over and smooch Sage's cheek. His angry growl softens to an uneasy purr as he finally settles in his seat.

And then you very calmly tell the band to go pound sand (or something much more creative and violent, that's up to you). They finally do back off with a few more mumbled complaints, and you drag Sage out of the tavern to have an emergency cuddle session.

---

Back at Fathom, you've piled your bed full of soft pillows and warm blankets. Sage has his cheek on your shoulder, arms around your waist and tail around your knee. He's sobered up for the most part and is now in sulking mode.

He hasn't gone soft, damnit! He's still Sage Lesath, the super cool-and-sexy mercenary who can kick ass any day of the week! And sure, maybe he likes having his hair brushed and his head patted and his forehead smooched, but that doesn't make him any less badass!

... okay maybe a little less badass. But is that such a bad thing? He knows he doesn't deserve it, but-

You promptly smooch his ear. It's all soft and silky and flutters lightly against your lips. His words end in a surprised little stutter and the tip of his tail flicks and fluffs against your skin.

You keep kissing him over and over and over again while also petting behind his ears and that - combined with the buzzed state he's still in - quickly renders him a giggling mess.

No self-deprication for you!!

He deserves to be cared for and protected. He deserves to be soft if he wants to be. He deserves to be loved. And you'll keep reminding him of that as much as he needs.

He's giggling too much to even try beating himself up anymore. Except he's also purring at the same time so your chest/body is vibrating so much it feels like there's a mini earthquake.

Happy kitty cat :3

-----

Suggestive stuff below!! Nothing too explicit

-----

You don't even have to kiss him to get him flustered. You can just blow some warm air along the edge of his ear. It drives him up the wall.

His inner ear is softer than the backside. The fur is a little more delicate and overall just sensitive.

B,,bit,,,biting his ear?? Sorry that you're getting a little bit of fur in your mouth but ohohoho!! He's putty in your hands. His pupils get massive and he starts rubbing against you and purring and his tail won't stop wagging.

Sometimes when you brush his hair you give his ear a little kiss/bite and then you just get too darn busy to finish brushing!!

He genuinely will just start babbling and even drooling a tiny bit if you do it long enough. Especially if your breath is all warm and heavy and you whisper that he's being such a good boy for you,,,,, oooooh,,,,,, He Just Perishes™

[anachronistic-falsehood]

SO. ON THE TOPIC OF LOSS OF AUTONOMY. i am having the analysis brainworms now i hope u dont mind me going off in ur inbox. hi :]

there is something to be said about how vash's name is used against him constantly. that loss of who he even is as a person. i think about this so much. his name, his very identity is taken away from him. just the mere mention of the name vash the stampede is enough to send an ENTIRE town into a panic. it happens so much and its DEVASTATING to me. hes been labelled a monster across the entire world, and people who stick by his side after hearing his name are few and far between. theres been so much fear tacked onto his name, so much so that OTHER outlaws have used it on multiple occasions to make themselves more powerful. using his name to commit crimes that the real vash would be horrified to even consider. power in names and all that.

vash even. leans into it himself at a certain point. in order to protect the people of augusta he runs through the city shooting bullets into the air and solidifying his image of a deranged killer in the pursuit of. saving everyone. the only way theyll listen to him is if they think hes going to kill them all. if theyre afraid of him. theres also the part in hang fire (? i think its that one) where hes walking through the halls of the sand steamer singing about killing people in order to scare the bandits into not hurting the hostages.

and then you think about. eriks. how lina and her grandma took him in and accepted them as part of his family. how the town around them accepted him only because they had no idea who he actually was. he was a good guy... up until they learned he was vash. and then we get the conversation between the two men in the bar talking about how they should chase him out of town, despite living around him and knowinf him and seeing how good he is for . two years.

but lina and her grandma still accept him after that. theyre one of the only people besides milly/meryl/wolfwood who genuinely love and care abt him despite his name. they still want to keep him safe, grandma asks wolfwood to protect him and keep him out of trouble, even after learning hes the legendary outlaw gunman. because shes seen the true vash ans doesnt let the name scare her.

aughhh im rambling now i probably should have made this into my own post but this makes me SO fuckign crazy dude . give me ur thoughts id love to hear them.

I. YEAH. YEAH. OH MY GOD. Like. nothing is his own anymore. His name is used against him, his face is plastered on wanted posters. There is nothing about himself that he can truly call his. Not even his Plant powers! Because those are used against him time and time again by Knives in EVERY ADAPTATION!!!!

Like. Vash is no longer the name of a kid who once argued with his brother and laughed with his mother and celebrated his birthday and rolled around in grassy fields. It's the name of an outlaw who will kill at the drop of a hat. It's the name of an out-of-control human natural disaster who's leveled cities. If he doesn't even have his name, then what part of himself is really himself anymore?

AND THAT'S WHY I LOVE ERIKS! He finally has something of his own! He's got a name that attached to no one, and a life where he can settle down and stay out of the public eye. He finally has something that is truly his. And no one lets him keep that except for Lina and her grandma.

This guy really has no control over his own life doesn't he!!! He's a passive character in the story of his own life!!! He has nothing of his own, no identity past "humanoid typhoon" because everything about his identity has been stripped from him and morphed into something he's not. He has no say in anything in his life, not even who he is as a person, AND IT DRIVES ME BONKERS N FUCKING YONKERS!!!!

[loudenver]

A sea of faceless people clapped Louis on the back, congratulated him, pressed their hands into his and gave it a firm shake as he made his way out of the building. He tried his best to plant a smile on his face, to exude grace and appear grateful. Things had gone well, Ivy-related disasters aside. Louis hadn't anticipated how god-fucking-awful it would be to stand in front of a camera and plaster on a fake smile for someone who hated your guts. Louis doubted there was a single good picture in the bunch, but that was really the least of his problems. All he wanted to do was go home, drink beer in front of the television and fall asleep there, ruminating in everything that had happened today.

He scanned the crowd for his single saving grace, who appeared to him in the form of a five-foot something brunette in a tight dress and chunky boots, holding a phone that seemed permenantly fused to her hand. Ava was the person who got Louis from point A to point B most days, told Louis his writing was actually worth something when he doubted everything. He didn't know what he'd do without her. When she saw Louis approach her face broke into the widest smile he had ever seen, throwing her arms around his neck.

"That was amazing! Oh my fucking God, Lou." she squealed, disentangling himself from Louis' wiry frame. She put a hand either side of his face, cupping his cheeks as pride beamed from her face. It wasn't until she saw the look on Louis' own that her brows furrowed together, fierce, protective concern washing over her features.

"What happened, hotshot?" she lowered her voice, her body providing a protective shield between Louis and the rest of the crowd. God, he loved her for that.

"I uh," Louis' voice shook, gnawing on his bottom lip. "The photographer, she's my ex's... my ex's best friend."

Ava's eyebrows shot up so high, they almost disappeared into her hairline.

"The ex?"

Louis nodded, not trusting himself to speak any further. For once, he was at a loss for words. He always knew how to conduct himself on paper, but the surprise meeting with Ivy had left him wrung out, vulnerable.

"Listen, Ava, can you find me a cigarette?" he asked, trying to ignore the way her rouged lips pressed into a thin line, the unspoken disapproval there.

"You don't smoke anymore."

Technically true, but Louis thought there should be a fucking clause in there for something like this. The 'your first love's best friend is the photographer at the launch of your career as an author' clause. Perhaps less clunkily worded. He fixed Ava with a stare, his dark brown eyes softening on her. With a haughty sigh, she reached into her bag of tricks and pulled out a pack, pressing it into Louis' palm.

"I love you." he insisted, pressing a hasty kiss to the corner of her mouth. He thought he heard her shout something along the lines of, 'just one, Lou!' before he was disappearing out the front door, into the crisp, New York air.

Pressing his back firm against the wall, Louis forced himself to take a deep breath, cold air filling his lungs as he counted, one, two, inhale, exhale. Visualised a fucking sand timer or whatever shit Emilia had him doing. He hated that it actually worked.

Soothed in the knowledge he wasn't about to have a panic attack on the clock, Louis uncurled his fingers from around the packet of cigarettes Ava had handed over. He plucked one from the pack, fingers scrabbling around for the lighter that was sure to be tucked inside. Alas, no fucking dice.

"Goddamn it." Louis hissed, his breath clouding the air. Glancing around, Louis decided to put to the test just how friendly New Yorkers were. Forcing a smile he didn't feel, Louis' boots flattened the perfectly mowed grass as he crossed the small courtyard in front of the overly impressive building, approaching a figure with his back turned to him.

"Excuse me, darlin'. Do you have a light?"