#Someone should take me out to a pasture

[hypocriticaltypwriter]

*skitters away*

I want him to actually shove his tongue down my throat like he's searching for those noodles

[projectilespiders]

wehen the self indulgent art is so self indulgent it makes you a little sick to your stomach

[madridfangirl]

A Weekend in Ibiza - Part 4 (final)

(Jude Bellingham smut fic)

(Part 1, Part 2, Part 3)

5.2k words. Jude*female reader. Smut & suggestive language. And many confused feelings.

A/n - When we don't get Jude holiday content (the kind with other women), we make shit up

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You missed him.

Son of a bitch, you actually missed him.

Jude had left an hour after waking you up for an early morning tumble. It had been your idea, since he kept yapping in your ear after you two were done, with the typical annoying chirpiness of a morning person, while you just wanted to snuggle in the cozy sheets, & enjoy the pleasant relaxation washing over your muscles. So, you had nudged him to take care of whatever it was he needed to take care of and he had left, promising to return soon.

But now, you missed him. The room suddenly felt too big, too empty, too quiet without him. 

His cologne was still all over you, on the pillow next to you. The sheets reeking of his scent. His belongings spread on the side-table - an expensive looking watch, an LV waist pouch, and a box of condoms.

Would it be downright pathetic to ping him for an ETA?

YES. Your inner voice chided you, loudly.

Remember what this is. What you are to him. The flavour of the week, if even that. 

Fine, you were gonna wait. Let him take his sweet time. You’d rather die than be accused of being clingy, especially in this context.

It’s been 90 minutes, stop being so dramatic. Screamed your inner voice again.

You stretched your limbs before getting out of bed, sighing at the soreness. A hot bath was the need of the hour. And house keeping.

Twirling in front of the mirror in your new deep blue summer dress, another daring purchase for the trip, you wondered if he’d like this one. 

Well, he had liked blue on you yesterday. A lot.

Heck, it DID NOT matter. It SHOULD NOT matter. You were dressing for yourself. To look good for yourself. 

But a little bit for him too.

3 hours. He’d been gone three hours now. It was already 10 am. You started to wonder if he was coming back at all. But he left his stuff? Well it won’t even be pocket change to him. Did he get bored already? Moved on to finer pastures?

Right on cue, the door opened, taking you by surprise. Jude emerged, in all his glory. Donning a loose multi-coloured unbuttoned summer shirt, with matching shorts. Chiselled abs on full display. The chest hair, with a trail going down into his shorts. And then there were those legs. Despite your annoyed state, you nearly salivated at the sight. 

He was mumbling something about taking your keycard, in case you were still asleep. But you couldn’t register a word. Senses too distracted to focus.

Jude had this air about him - a casual nonchalance, an unshakable confidence, an inherent swag. Used to getting his way in life. Making the world bend to his will. It was sexy as hell. 

But it irked you too. Was it because he operated like he owned every room he walked into, and everyone in it? Or because you wanted to let him own you? You couldn’t tell anymore.

‘Could have knocked first.’

Jude cocked his head sideways at the comment, smirking mischievously, scanning you up & down. A sight for sore eyes. Blue really was your colour.

‘Nothing that I haven’t seen already.’

But something he’d like to see a lot more of. All day today. The dress looked like a million dollars on you, but he’d still prefer it on the floor.

Your hands gripped your dress (a movement his eyes followed), to curb the shiver running down your arms. Even while being arrogant, he was still charming.

‘Someone else could have been here with me.’

You managed to find your wits, and shot back. 

His whole demeanour changed. Features hardening, gaze intensifying, as he stepped closer. Subconsciously, you retreated, gasping when your back hit the desk. He stood toe to toe now, towering over you. Your fingers started fiddling aimlessly as you avoided his burning glare, realising you had touched a nerve. HARD. 

The tension in the air reverberated through your body and you jumped when his large hands gripped your ass, kneading the exact spot he had spanked yesterday. The residual sting making you whimper & bite your lip, drawing his attention to your mouth.

Jude bent down, biting your earlobe, drawing another whimper, as he whispered in a low, raspy, menacing tone.

‘I NEVER share what’s MINE, especially when I have wanted it so much.’

You wobbled, and clutched his biceps for support, as his hand slid under your dress & found your dripping core. 

‘Already?’

The tone was half-mocking, half-proud, as he cupped you over your panties, your legs spreading on their own accord to accommodate his hand. Then, with a measured move, he lightly slapped you there. Sending shockwaves through your nerves.

You mewled and fell forward onto his chest. Stunned & turned on beyond any fathomable limits. Moaning his name, sounding unabashedly needy.

That proved to be his undoing. 

You found yourself bent over the desk, face down into the glass top, your dress yanked down & pushed up to pool at your waist, your hips adjusted to his preferred angle, your panties discarded somewhere, your hands struggling to find some kind of purchase on the glass, your shaky breaths making patterns on the sheer surface.

Vulnerable and spread open for him. Exactly as he liked.

A quick preparation with his fingers, and he was sliding inside you, groaning at the hot, tight squeeze of your walls, stretching you fully. Your back arched, as your body struggled to take him in. But he kept going, till he bottomed out. 

Sounds of sex filled the room - your choked moans, his uneven grunts, his body slapping against yours, while yours slapped against the desk. Your nails scratched on the glass, his angles shooting sensations up & down your spine, hitting spots inside you didn’t know existed. The rapid movement of your bare nipples pressed on the cold glass made you scream. Which brought him out of whatever trance he was in.

Jude paused instantly, bent down, & brought his face to the side of yours.

‘What’s wrong?’

Words failed you. Somehow, you managed to point to your chest. He understood, bringing one arm underneath your breasts, shielding them from the glass. You whimpered at the relief. He stayed put, unmoving, panting over your neck.

‘Too much? Should I stop?’

Your nervous shake of head was all the signal he needed. He went again, tad slower this time, but still rocking your world in a thousand different ways. Making you see stars & entire galaxies as your vision blurred. Your scream when you came was muffled by the glass, and you were far too overstimulated to register his groan as he climaxed soon after.

Jude put his hands on either side of you, half-bending, half-standing, still buried inside, as he came down from his high. Looking over your spent form.

As you stayed half passed out, few things became clear in your mind about him. 1) He was possessive to the hilt. 2) He liked to take from behind when he was in the mood for fucking / hard sex. Face to face was for softer, calmer, gentler situations, like this morning. 3) He was as much a boobs guy as an ass guy. 4) Football wasn’t his only natural gift, to the point it was unfair to other men. No way they could compare to the whole package that was him, and he knew that all too well. 5) His dominance and aggression didn’t end on the football pitch, he brought it to bed too.

Lost in these thoughts, you didn’t register when he carried you bridal-style to bed, looked you over for any bruises (he was kicking himself hard for not factoring in the glass top properly), cleaned you & tucked the blanket over you.

Only coming to your senses when you were pulled against a hard muscular body, laying on your side, his arms wrapped around you, his cheek caressing yours, as you heard him mutter softly.

‘Say something. Please.’

Jude had been half-hard before he walked in, the hours away were literal physical torture. Then that dress, and especially your comment made him tip over the edge. He hadn’t planned to be rough, not so soon in the day at least. Definitely not after last night.

You sighed as he showered you with forehead kisses, somehow re-discovering your voice.

‘You snore in your sleep.’

Amused, he turned his face slightly to look at you, then laughed an infectious laugh, his whole body shaking with the sensation, as he squeezed you lightly in his hold, bringing a smile to your tired face.

‘Well, we have already established you are a liar.’

‘Please, have the others not told you this?’

He didn’t usually sleep in the same bed with the others all night, not so soundly anyway. Even on some rare occasions, he parted ways swiftly in the morning, without much conversation. What was happening right now was not the norm, it was a massively astronomical exception. Something he was still struggling to wrap his head around.

‘Stay a few days more?’

That came out of nowhere, even for him. 

She turned her head, looking at him oddly.

‘Can’t. Work calls.’

‘Say you’re sick. Or, if your boss likes football, tell him he can have season tickets in whichever stadium he wants.’

You rose up on your elbows, to laugh at his silliness. But he looked sincere so you changed tact.

‘Clearly you haven’t worked in a corporate before.’

He hadn’t. And that effectively shut him up on the topic.

Few lazy minutes passed in silence. Your fingers traced patterns on his chest, half laying over him,  while his fingers carded through your open messy hair.

‘You really don’t do this, do you?’

He didn’t need to elaborate. You understood he was referring to casual sex.

‘I meant what I said earlier. Every word.’

‘Then why this? Why me?’

He sounded sincere, not trying to fish for compliments or anything, genuinely curious to know.

Because it became physically impossible to resist you.

‘An adventure I guess.’

You shrugged, trying to not give away anything more. Anything real. Anything about the state of desperation he had put you in.

He hummed, as he mulled over it.

‘And this trip was an adventure too?’

This time you didn’t need to lie.

‘Kinda. Work was getting a bit much. Needed this mini escape.’

‘Me too.’

He blurted out, again out of nowhere. Jude started to wonder if he was coming down with some kind of bug or something. 

‘Like how?’

He had sworn not to dwell on this, to leave it behind on the field, like he had promised his mum. But it was easier said than done. 

You sensed the heaviness in the air, and in his mood. Your hand moved to his face, stroking it gently, nudging him to continue. He accepted the comfort, leaning into your palm.

‘Lost a very important final for my country. Couldn’t play my best. Failed them.’

You didn’t know what to say to that. It must have been hard to deal with, and almost impossible to forget. 

‘Well, you have a long journey ahead. Second chances will come.’

He shut his eyes, not wanting to reveal the heartbreak. But his expressive face did the talking. 

‘This was the second chance. A third chance rather. And we blew it. I blew it. They won’t forgive me.’

His face contorted, and he sank further into the mattress.

The words clutched at your heart, and his pain hurt your soul. Deeply.

‘Heyyyy, look at me.’

He didn’t. He couldn’t. Still too raw inside.

You climbed on top of him and smothered his perfectly symmetrical face with kisses, every inch of it, slowly. Then moved to his lips, giving them a quick peck, which he reciprocated. Moving below, you brushed your lips against his long neck, as his hands unfisted from the sheet, wrapping around your waist. Your whole body weight was on him now, which he seemed to welcome.

But he was still hiding from you, behind closed lids.

Your thumbs massaged the frown lines on his forehead, soothing them, as you bit the tip of his nose affectionately. He sighed, a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

‘If you care this much, then you’ll make it happen again. And this time, you’ll go over the line. Just need to keep believing and working for it.’

Finally, he popped his eyes open, flashing a delicate, hopeful smile. You smiled back and leaned in to peck his nose again, but pulled you in for a deep passionate kiss, only breaking it when he sensed your breathlessness, & let you roll off of him. 

Jude turned to his side, eyes roaming your spent form (you hadn’t even bothered to pull up the blanket), as his warm hand splayed on your stomach.

‘We need to work on your stamina.’

Offended, you tried to push him away, but he stayed put & giggled at your meek efforts. 

‘Well, I am not a professional athlete, hello? And….I don’t do all this….stuff…nowhere as frequently as you. So, I am good, thanks.’

‘But what if someday you want to try more?’

Irritated, you decided to get back at him, knowing he won’t be able to retaliate given his guilt over your exhausted state.

‘Yeah, like what? A threesome maybe?’

That wiped the smile off his face. Good start, then.

‘Not gonna lie, it’s always been a fantasy having both of these (you pointed to your tits) sucked simultaneously.’

Jude had recovered enough to catch on to your little game by now. 

‘Careful, doll.’

You ignored him completely. Having tasted blood, you couldn’t stop, going for the kill.

‘Anyone from your entourage, maybe? Or a teammate? Cama looked cute on your Insta, is he here by…’

Jude didn’t let you finish. In a flash, he was on top of you, pinning your hands over your head as his mouth claimed yours in a punishing kiss. You squirmed under him, to no avail. 

‘Threesome huh?

He barked in between demanding kisses.

‘You barely take ME fully and you want another man? Tell me, how will you take two together? WHERE will the other one go?’

For the second time today, you realised you had bitten more than you could chew. The bear had been well & truly poked.

‘Here?’

He shoved two fingers in your mouth, past your gag reflex. Eyes wild, showing you what he was picturing.

You shook your head from side to side, desperate to hold on to at least some of your erstwhile principles. And panted when he withdrew his fingers.

His hand slid behind you, poking at the back entrance. Your whole body jolted at the touch, and the implication, as you tried to peel his hand away.

‘No? Didn’t think so.’

Next, he gruffly squeezed your boobs close, admiring the valley in between.

‘Now this is tempting, but still not enough to climax. Which leaves this.’

Jude grabbed your right hand, looking straight into your flustered eyes. Challenge loud & clear in his animalistic gaze.

You wanted to run. At the same time, you wanted to meet him head on, to wrestle the control back.

He could tell you were considering it, and pounced on the opportunity, dragging your hand to his briefs, over his crotch. You both gasped at the touch.

‘Yes? Say yes.’

You couldn’t deny him. You didn’t wanna deny yourself either, curious about what he’d feel like.

The moment you nodded, he ripped away his briefs, and brought your hand back over his already excited member, covering it with his. Guiding your motions.

Your eyes widened at the feel of him - he hadn’t put on a condom this time, wanting you skin to skin. No barriers.

‘Come here doll, let me show you.’

Jude proved to be a good teacher. And you had always been a good student. Keen, curious, eager, fast learner. And in this specific instance, deeply enchanted with a gorgeously horny boy, therefore extra motivated to be good for him.

Going by his grunts, you WERE good. Considering the way his eyes were rolling to the back of his head, you were better than good. He grabbed your face and smashed his lips to yours, cursing into your mouth, while his hand continued to guide yours, going at a frantic pace now.

Throughout, you couldn’t sway your eyes from his face. Every little twitch imprinted deep into your mind, a core memory even. One could climax just looking at him like that. If you weren’t so sore & spent right now….

‘FUCKING HELL.’

He came with a groan. Splashing everywhere. Making a complete filthy mess of the sheets. And of you.

He panted against your lips, slowly calming down, plopping back on the pillow. While you remained dazed by what you had just done & witnessed.

After a few minutes, he gathered you in his arms again, carrying you to the shower. You welcomed the comfort of hot water, and the support of his body engulfing yours, keeping you from crumbling. The sight of him under the water, all wet & glistening, was pornographic. Another memory stored for life.

A nap seemed super enticing post the shower. Wrapped in bath robes, limbs intertwined, you both fell into a relaxing sleep. When you woke up, it was time for lunch. Jude knew the drill by now, quietly hiding in the washroom when the waiter came with the tray. Both had built an appetite, so the food felt extra delicious.

Post lunch, you cleared out a few emails on your laptop, preparing for tomorrow, while he sat next to you, watching some pre-season match on TV, head resting over your shoulder. It was impairing the movement of your arm as you typed but you were never going to make him move. 

‘So, where do you work?’

You paused, and gave him a side-eye.

‘You are not supposed to know.’

‘Jeez, I mean which city.’ 

‘Amsterdam for the next 5 weeks. Then, back home.’

‘And where’s home?’

‘Far away. Not in Europe.’

You kept typing, eyes firmly on the screen, and Jude understood he wasn’t going to get anything  more than this.

‘Wherever it is, I could fly you out, you know.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘Fly you out, to Madrid. To be with me. Whenever we want.’

To be his booty call is what he meant. Now you understood. Is that what he did with others too? All part of some playbook? Well, she wasn’t going to become another entry in the long list of girls he had at his beck and call. 

‘Jude, I told you this was going to be just one weekend. Then we go back to our lives.’

‘I know, but, why is that set it stone?’

‘Because this is not me. I can’t go about my life while still doing this.’

‘But why? 

‘Why? Because I don’t recognise the person I am right now. I am not so rash, carefree, whimsical, BOLD. This is an anomaly. And for what it’s worth, I like who I am in my real life. I have my own little world that I am content with. My own principles, which I stand by. Taking an 8-10 hr flight for hook-ups does not really fit into my scheme of things. I’d much rather wait for a real relationship, stick to my beliefs.’

Jude listened intently, soaking in every said and unsaid thing, trying to get to the root of what was getting you so riled up.

But he had always been a straightforward person. Didn’t like living with regrets. Go after what you want was his mantra.

‘Do you like the person you are right now, with me?’

You stared open mouthed, connecting the dots of how he was trying to check-mate you.

‘I am not gonna play this game with you.’

‘It’s not a game. Maybe the universe is sending you a message.’

‘I highly doubt the universe would be messaging me to keep hooking up with you. Universe has better things to do than that.’

‘Has this been so forgettable for you, then?’

He knocked the wind out of your chest with the poignance of his words and the disarming vulnerability of his voice. You felt lightheaded, and reached for his arm to steady yourself. Your tone softened.

‘I - I never said that. Never meant that.’

‘Then why are you so cross with me? Looking at me like that. Was it so wrong to want to see you again?’

You scooted closer, towards his body heat, and rested your head on his shoulder.

‘Didn’t mean to. I guess shit just got too real when you said that.’

And because you hadn’t still fully come to terms with the choices you had made this weekend. Deciding to continue it will not let it remain an anomaly, and will go against everything you believe in. No, you can’t fall for this. Will have to resist the temptation that was this man. Cut the chord this weekend, for the sake of your sanity. And return to normalcy. Never letting a single soul know what happened here.

He was quiet. And still. Processing the rejection. You climbed into his lap, cupped his jaw, gazing into his turbulent eyes.

‘We still have half a day. Let’s not spoil our remaining time together?’

He didn’t say anything, just looked at you with a blank expression, and you threw your arms around his shoulders, hugging him close. Feeling a strange sense of guilt. But you hadn’t done anything wrong, this had always been the arrangement. He was anyway going to get bored of this (you) soon even if you had agreed to continue. This was for the best. A clean cut.

Then why was it eating away at you? Making your insides churn?

‘Please, Jude. Please, just..’

You snuggled your head into the crook of his neck, and felt his arms settle around you. He lifted you out of his lap and made you lay on your back, as his eyes roamed over you. And his mind worked extra time to arrive at a decision. You waited patiently.

‘How much do you like this dress?’

A lot.

‘Do whatever you want.’

He tore it off, ripping with force, taking his frustration out on it. Laying you bare for him.

But he wasn’t rough. No, what happened over the next hour was more intense than even any BDSM out there. 

Because, Jude made love to you. Worshipped your body. Touched you in ways that was ruining you for other men. Whispered such things in your ear that no other voice would ever be good enough. Looked at you with such longing & passion that you could see your image in his honeyed orbs. Kissed you so fervently that you were becoming addicted to his lips. Sucked your boobs so thoroughly that you almost came just from that. Ate you out with such determination like his life depended on it. Fucked you to oblivion, to the point you thought you were getting a stroke. Made you peak over & over, like he was trying to set a new record in the history of mankind. 

All while never breaking eye contact with you, never letting you slip away or hide from him.

You could tell he was proving a point, showing you what you would be missing out on. That the two of you still had a lot more to discover together. That only he could make you feel a certain way. And that sex with him can be like this also - more, different, real. Not just a sating of lust.

But you had to stay strong. Because if you fall, it’s gonna be a slippery slope. A bottomless pit. You had so much more to lose in this, because he clearly was not ready for anything more. Even if he didn’t fully realise that, you could tell as much. And this half-in, half-out arrangement would be a recipe for disaster in your life.

As your sweaty bodies laid intertwined with each others, basking in the afterglow, you couldn’t resist placing little kisses on his chest, earning sweet sighs from him.

It was almost evening now. Only a few more hours left with him. 

You had to pack, book your cab to the airport, do your web checkin. And call home - since you had been practically MIA for two days. So much to do, but you couldn’t move from his side. Just a few more mins like this.

Finally, you got up, moving around the room to gather your stuff. While he laid on his stomach, towards the edge of the bed, arms crossed & tucked under his chin, just watching you silently.

‘You…don’t have to stay if you are getting bored, you know.’

‘Do you want me to leave?’

You zipped your bag and kneeled in front of him, cupping his cheeks with both hands.

‘I want you to stay.’

‘I want you to stay too.’

You sighed, pressing your foreheads together, unable to respond in any other way. Because there was nothing to say.

‘How about dinner on the balcony? And some wine?’

You tried to sound enthused, looking at him expectantly. He gave in.

‘I have a bottle you’d really like.’

The dinner was light, neither of you in the mood for anything elaborate. The wine was heavenly though, you hummed appreciatively with every sip during your first glass. Later, both of you gulped it down fast, to fill in the awkward silence, emptying the bottle in an hour.

You swayed a little as you walked to the railing, soaking in the sound of the waves and the moonlight dancing on it.

Jude stayed on the couch, eyes firmly glued to you. The silver nightdress shone in the moonlight, creating a halo like effect. An elusive, mysterious fairy, who was flying away from him in a few hours. Never to be seen again. Pangs of a strange, hitherto unknown emotion gripped his heart.  And he closed the distance between you two, while he still could.

Strong arms came around your waist, holding you gently. You leaned back into his chest, as your hand reached behind to stroke his face.

‘Won’t you miss this?’

Wine had numbed your filters and inhibitions. You couldn’t lie anymore. Couldn’t pretend.

‘I will.’

‘No one special back home then? Someone who could make you feel this way?’

‘No.’

His lips brushed your shoulder, sending a shiver down your back. The cool night air adding to the charged touch, as his fingers played with the strap of your nightdress.

‘So let me have you till then. Till there is….till you find…..and then you can…..’

He couldn’t bring himself to say the rest - the sheer thought of you settling down with someone so unpleasant, like a punch in the gut.

‘If you are around, I won’t be able to.’

He was dangerous, so dangerous for your sanity.

He had gotten what he initially wanted - your body. Why wasn’t that enough? Why was he asking for more than you could give? Why did he want to come for your soul, your heart too?

‘You won’t know till you actually try. Maybe I’ll change your mind. Or maybe you’ll change mine.’

Another emotional whiplash with his thoroughly befuddling words. Chipping away at the carefully constructed shield around your heart.

It had to stop. This had to change course.

‘Please, this is the wine talking. You’ll be repeating this to someone else a few days later.’

‘You think so? You think I’d jump in bed with someone else straightway? Like tomorrow?’

His grip became firmer. On your body. And your senses.

‘Won’t you?’

‘Would you like that?’

‘It’s none of my business.’

‘WOULD YOU LIKE THAT? Answer me.’

‘Jude please…’

He flipped you by your waist, grabbing the back of your neck.

‘Stubborn. So stubborn.’

A wet, needy make-out ensued, where you met him halfway. Gripping your butt, he lifted you up as your legs wrapped around his waist. 

But he didn’t take you inside, settling on the balcony couch instead, making you straddle his thighs.

‘Not outside.’

‘Yes outside.’

‘But…’

‘It’s dark. No one can see us. Trust me.’

He lifted your nightdress over your head, pleased to find you naked underneath. His briefs were quickly discarded too, as he started to pull you down over himself, spearing you with this angle, while his mouth wreaked havoc on your chest, and his hands roamed your back with abandon.

For one last time, you submitted to him. Wholeheartedly. Just laying in his arms as he took you on a joyride. His hands doing most of the work when your legs couldn’t keep up with his thrusts.

‘How are you still so tight? After everything?’

Your body was filled with his marks and bruises, and you refused to even acknowledge the unseen marks he had left on you. The way he had penetrated the depths of your conscience. Clawing his way in.

Tears started to pool at the corner of your eyes, but you fought them valiantly. Not letting him see.

Jude had finally been able to put a finger on the strange emotion he had been feeling all day. It was desperation. He was desperate to not let you disappear forever. Feeling completely powerless - he’d never been on the receiving end of this before.

‘At least give me your Insta.’

He mumbled as you both were close, his strokes becoming sloppy.

‘I won’t follow. Won’t do anything to draw attention to you. But at least I’d be able to see you.’

But then he’d know who you were. Where you lived. Where you worked. He’d be able to find you, reach out to you. And this weekend won’t remain your secret only. 

‘Let me…think about that…yeah?’

You kissed him, shutting down any further protests, taking in the feel of his lips. For the final time. You moaned into each others mouths as you fell apart together. Wrapped around each other. Naked on a balcony. Under the dim moonlight. 

He carried you back to bed, settling in next to you. Both too emotionally & physically exhausted. You clung to him, moulding your body to his, snuggling into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent as you both willed yourselves to go to sleep. With a heavy heart.

Next morning, when he woke up, you were gone. Unable to handle the prospect of another goodbye, plus not wanting to wake him up after he had twisted & turned restlessly most of the night. Frankly, you weren’t sure you had it in you to leave if he woke up and looked at you in that trademark way of his.

He understood why you did what you did, looking around the now empty room. Not knowing what to do next. Feeling a sense of loss he didn’t know how to process. Needing a hug from his mum.

Just then, he saw a note on your pillow, carefully tucked under the TV remote.

‘I’ll always remember you. Please know, this was the only way.

Love,

Your first name.’

That made him smile. He said your name over & over, deciding it suited you perfectly. The signature making his heart flutter a bit.

He clicked a photo of the note. As a plan formed in his head. Of another post, drawing you back in. He knew you’d be checking his profile, maybe even following him by now. Yeah, he’d get you back, he just knew it already!

.............................................................

And there it is, the final chapter. This was meant to be a 2 part series but your love & feedback kept it going.

Thank you, I am so grateful. And I can't wait to hear your thoughts on this final instalment :)

[ellieslittlewh0re]

𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐧 (𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏)

* ೃ⁀➷ part 2 - part 3

pairings - farmers daughter! reader x farmhand! ellie

summary - your dad hires a stranger to help out around the farm

additional tags - inexperienced but flirty reader, shy/loser ellie, cowboy boot wearing ellie, mutual pinning, slight masturbation mention (e!), e! w/ a southern accent??, eventual smut, (nothing too crazy happens in this part it’s mostly just setting vibes lol)

Beads of sweat collected on the bridge of your nose, and your thighs stuck together as you sat on the porch swing, just lazily swinging back and forth, using your tippy toes to keep the momentum going.

You look out over the vast pasture- green as far as the eye can see, with nothing to distract from the country landscape except for some power lines out in the distance.

Even with the sun starting to set- it was still unbelievably hot.

"Keep goin' like that and you're gonna die of a heat stroke."

You yell to your father who was working under the hood of his rusty truck. Usually, he pays no mind to your nagging, but this time it seemed to work- or perhaps he was just finished for the night.

He shuts the hood, slamming it with a metallic thud before wiping his hands on a greasy rag.

His boots rang loudly against the hallow wooden stairs of the porch, looking down at you through bushy eyebrows.

"I don't need your sass, kid."

You roll your eyes at his comment. He's always been stubborn and tough, but in his old age, you can't help but worry. His cheeks have hallowed over the years, sun spots forming from the countless hours working on the farm, and his movements became slowed from the hard work catching up to him.

"I wouldn't sass if you'd just listen. Seriously, it's okay to hire someone to help. no one is gonna shame you for that." You pester affectionately, standing from the swing to open the screen door and enter the house with him following behind.

You follow him to the kitchen, listing all the reasons why he should have help.

One: he's getting old.

Two: his knee has never been the same since he had that operation done 4 years ago.

Three: the farm is too big and demanding to tend to alone.

"Okay- enough.. you sound just like your mother sometimes I swear." He hold a hand up, pausing you mid-ramble, and takes a sip from the glass he filled from the tap.

You pouted, and once again, your suggestions felt shot down.

He finishes the water, wiping his beard with the back of his hand.

"I actually have someone comin' by tomorrow. They were recommended t' me by Phillip at the feed store."

Your eyes lighten up, a smile grows on your face, and you finally feel like you can breathe, knowing that the hardships wouldn't be your dads alone anymore.

You rush around the kitchen island, placing a kiss to your dads cheek and squeezed him tight.

"Thank you! I can't wait- I'll have to bake em' something sweet tonight."

"Alright- settle down-" he pushes you away slightly with a smile on his weathered face. Truly an adoring annoyance that only a parent could love.

Your old man calls it a night, showering and off to bed he went, but you? Oh- you were busy. You tried your hardest to keep the sound down to a minimum, bowls, and kitchen utensils splayed on the counters.

A small apron draped around your waist, flour smudged on your cheekbone as you pulled the blueberry scones out of the oven. A satisfied smile grows on your face as you observe your work and finishing of the pastries with a dusting of powdered sugar.

Maybe, you were going a tad bit overboard, but the truth is, you were painfully lonely. The only time you had any visitors on the farm was when you held pumpkin patches in the fall, but even then, it was always young families that didn't bother to stay around for too long.

You go upstairs, a slight pep in your step as you did so. You showered and put in your favorite pajamas- a short, soft floral patterned dress with bows that secured the straps.

You tossed in bed, sleep not being in favor since your mind was still wide awake. You try to picture what they would look like- what they sounded like.

Was he tall? Around your age, or is he just another old man like your father? Maybe they're not a man at all.

It's best not to get ahead of yourself; whoever this person is, they are coming to work for your dad and not to become your friend.

-

You slept lightly, and your senses became more aware as a muted thud rang outside your second-story bedroom window. You open your eyes slowly, blinking away the sleepy confusion as dust particles dance in the sunbeams of your room.

It took you a few seconds to realize why today was so important, but once you remembered- it had you scattering out of bed to your window, pulling back the sheer laced curtains, and taking a peak outside.

There was a truck you didn't recognize parked in the driveway. It was slightly newer than your dad's, but that's not saying much; a simple 2-door with an extended bed, slightly lifted with sturdy-looking tires.

A slim figure stood next to the driver's side door, hands on their hips as they looked up at the house. To your surprise, it wasn't a man at all.

You squint, trying to get a better look at her without realizing how big of a creep you are being.

Her hair shined a brilliant shade of auburn in the morning light, a brown button up shirt with the sleep rolled up to her elbows, slightly flared and worn denim jeans hugged her hips with brown cowboy boots that seemed to match the leather of her belt.

You caught a glimpse of something on her arm, dark lines that disrupted her pale skin. It was a tattoo, although you could make out the details of the design.

She looked the part of someone who knows how to run a farm, but something about her seemed so out of place- almost like she was too pretty for such a dirty job.

While you were too busy eyeing her up and down, you didn't realize she had caught you. She put her hand up, holding it there for a second before bringing it back down to her side. You wave back, a slight wiggle of you fingertips which made her smile.

You watch her walk out of the frame of your window before sitting on the edge of your bed- your fingers grasping at the embroidered comforter. You had this weird feeling in your tummy; it was something you couldn't explain, almost like nausea but also like when you go on a big rollercoaster.

You felt nervous but excited all at the same time. You figured it was because she was around your age, maybe slightly older- shrugging it off as you got up and got ready for the day.

You brush your hair before tying it into two loose braids, finishing it with light pink ribbons at the ends. You wanted to put a little more effort into your appearance today since you're meeting someone new, and as daddy always said, "First impressions are the most important."

You take a deep breath in the last most of solitude of your room before making your way down the stairs, the conversation between the stranger and your father growing louder and louder from the kitchen as you inched closer.

"There she is-" your dad motions an arm in your direction, the stranger immediacy turning to meet your face.

"Ellie, this is my daughter, y/n, and y/n, this is Ellie."

"It's nice t' meet you, Ellie." You said in your sweetest voice you could muster as you walk towards her, holding a hand out.

"Likewise." She smiles, taking your hand in hers and shakes it firmly. She seemed respectful, maybe even a little flustered- seeing that her cheeks started to turn a deep shade of pink.

Upon seeing her closer, it didn't help settle your nerves. She was gorgeous; freckles adorned her alabaster skin, a scar that ran through her eyebrow and upper lip, and her eyes a mossy shade of green with dark, long lashes framing the shape.

She was honestly the prettiest girl you've ever seen but not in the same way you were often described. There was a boyish charm to her that you had never seen before.

"Well- best we get to it then." Your dad chimes in, causing you to let go of the calloused hand that you hadn't realized you were still holding onto.

"I'll see you around Ellie." You just barely make audible to her, bitting down on your bottom lip before turning on your heel and leaving them to do their jobs.

Ellie was almost speechless upon meeting you. Never in a million years did she ever think a girl like you could live in this small country town, but fuck, leave it to her luck- you were the boss's daughter, which means you were off limits.

You didn't make it easy on her either, prancing around in your little summer dress that flowed with your movements, rising dangerously high when you would turn around, almost giving her a peek of your ass.

Ellie swallowed hard each time, the saliva filling her mouth with all the dirty thoughts she had- which mostly consisted of you underneath her, completely naked and trembling after she forced a 4th orgasm out of you.

-

The sun was starting to set, blanketing the canvas in shades of orange and pink, and to your disappointment- Ellie would be leaving soon.

She was walking towards her truck, slightly dragging her feet from exhaustion, and you're happy she did so. It gave you enough time to run out of the house barefoot, container filled with the homemade goods in your hands.

"Ellie!-" you called out to her which made her turn around, her hand opening the driver side door.

You nearly bump into her, slightly out of breath as you held up the tupperware with both of your hands.

"Sorry- I made them last night, must've forgotten in to give 'em' to you earlier." Again, your voice is so sweet and innocent- like honey coated candies on her tongue.

A smirk grows on her face, taking the gift from you to inspect them.

"That's mighty kind of you.. oh no, are these blueberries?"

Your face contorts to concern, and Ellie can't help but think how fucking cute you look all worried like that.

"Yeah, why? Do you not like 'em?" You pout, almost like you're on the verge of tears

A low chuckle reverberates in her throat, "I'm just messing with you, doll. They look delicious."

"Meanie."

A few seconds of silence go by, and Ellie looks everywhere except your face, and I mean everywhere- including the plushness of your breast that spilled over the top of your dress - she couldn't have you knowing how red her cheeks are right now.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" She said it almost like a question- as if you'd miss out on such an opportunity.

"See you tomorrow, Ellie. Goodnight." You stand on your tippy toes, planting a quick kiss on the rounds of her cheeks, and run back inside, leaving Ellie in full panic mode.

She gets into her truck, taking a moment to herself before turning over the engine. Her fingers tighten around the steering wheel as she replays it in her head. She felt like she could combust, literally and figuratively- her head came down to rest on the wheel, and her cheeks ached from the smile that wouldn't seem to leave her lips.

In fact- she thought about it all night long. When she showered, when she laid in bed trying to sleep, she was tingling, an ache growing inside the depths of her stomach.

I mean, could you blame her? You didn't try to hide how hard you stared or how flirtatious you were towards her.

Maybe you were just like that with everyone.

Still- it didn't stop her. And It didn't stop her hand from slipping into the waistband of her checkered pajama pants, and it definitely didn't stop her from fingering herself to thoughts of you.

She came hard that night, harder than she had before, and she can't help but wonder- if simply her imagines of you felt this good, how would fucking you for real feel?

❥ taglist - @machetegirl109

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Blood Ties Chapter 10

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore, blood, injury, vomiting

A/N: This chapter is admittedly self indulgent. I love Daryl whump and I’ve been kind to him physically for most of the story so far. Not anymore! That being said, I feel like I should have split this into more than one chapter because—to me—the quality suffered because of the length. Anyway, on with the show!

Moodboard by @dannyo000

gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams

The sun was shining through the open curtains when you awoke. You scowled at the rays but the gentle heat that your skin was absorbing seemed to sooth the irritation. You stretched stagnant muscles, not even venturing to suppress the moan invoked by the action. You let your head fall to the side, finding the opposite margin of the bed empty. Daryl had already left. You shouldn’t be surprised. He was a hunter. Your variety were early risers. Well, you were admittedly a bit of a slacker. 

Your stomach felt moderately uneasy but not unmanageable. Hershel must have given you that injection while you slept. Your IV was disconnected and a glass of water sat on the bedside table, this time closest to you. You picked it up after gliding your legs off the side of the bed, taking slow careful sips. You were just placing it back on the table when there was a soft knock on the door. 

“Come in?” You weren’t sure if it was Hershel or maybe someone else who lived in the home. It felt odd to invite them into a room that didn’t belong to you. 

Carol peeked inside and smiled before opening the door fully to enter, a young blonde girl right on her heels with a glass of something—colorful. “Hi, honey. How are you feeling?” You accepted the woman’s embrace. 

“Better.” You smiled reassuringly when she pulled back to get a look at you. “Who’s this? And what’s that?” Carol looked behind herself on one side and then the other before stepping aside. 

“I’m Beth. My daddy is the one that helped you.” The girl was just that: a girl. She was older than Carl and Sophia but still a kid. “We made you a fruit smoothie. Patricia says it’s good for you and shouldn’t make you sick.”

You offered her a tight smile and accepted the drink, fearful of not only the taste but the consistency of the thing. You’d never done well with solid things being made into liquids. With an uncertain frown, you took a small sip. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Holy shit, that’s good.” When you took another drink, a smiling Carol put a hand on your arm. 

“Go slow.”

You nodded, tilting your head at the pile of clothes in Carol’s arms. “Are those for me?”

“Mhm. Thought you might like to clean up and change.”

“Oh my god, you read my mind.” You took another sip and made a grateful noise that had Beth giggling. “That is really good.”

It was early evening by the time you had showered and decided to venture outside. The nap in between was desperately needed. You were still a little weak from your ordeal. 

It was your first glimpse of the land. Beautiful fields with horses and cows out to pasture, while the blue, cloudless sky blanketed it all. 

Blue like Daryl’s eyes. 

You frowned, shaking your head at yourself. “Where the hell did that come from?” You brushed it off easily and approached the little camp your fellow group mates had set up. It felt odd being around them all without Daryl being somewhere nearby but it wasn’t bad per se.

Lori looked up from the bin of laundry and smiled at you. It was small and you could sense something behind it. Nevertheless, you returned it. It wouldn’t be a horrible thing to get to know everyone better. You made two steps in Lori’s direction before noticing Rick, Shane, T-Dog, and Dale huddled together out of the corner of your eye. 

Normally, you’d think nothing of it, except you happened to catch Dale risking a glance in your direction. His expression pinched, concerned. He was quick to look away but it was too late. 

“What’s going on?” You asked, stuffing your hands in the pockets of your jeans. The way they all looked between one another spoke volumes. There was something they didn’t want to tell you. 

Shane did that thing where he shoved his thumbs through the belt loops of his jeans and looked around at nothing before meeting your eyes. “Nothing for you to worry about, darlin’. We got it under control.”

You couldn’t help but sneer at him. “Don’t call me darlin’ and I can decide if I should worry or not. Rick?” The officers shared a look with Shane shaking his head but Rick seemed to disagree. 

“Daryl took a horse out today to look for Sophia.” 

You shook your head and raised a brow inquisitively. “Okay?” 

“The horse came back. Without him.”

Your stomach dropped before twisting with a feeling of dread. “You’re going out, right?” 

“Well, this is Daryl. We’re gonna give him until nightfall and set out first thing in the morning if he’s not back.” Rick explained. The incredulous expression you donned must have been enough encouragement for him to stammer out further explanation. “We can’t risk going out and not making it back before dark.”

“But it’s okay for Daryl—who could be hurt—to be out there alone all night, right? Are you fucking serious right now?” You were finding it increasingly difficult to keep your anger in check or your voice at a low volume. 

“Listen, missy, you don’t have a lot of right to say much of anything around here! Let me tell you something—” Shane began. You were having none of it. 

“Oh, shove it, Dudley Do-Right!” You hissed. You had spun away and started looking for Daryl’s tent, missing the undoubtedly furious—but comically memorable—expression on Shane’s face. “I’ll go find him myself.”

You heard Rick’s frantic footfalls before he stepped in front of you, palms out. “Wait, wait, wait. We can’t let you go out there.”

“Let me?”

Dale joined Rick, taking off his hat as he spoke. You weren’t sure why he did it other than maybe attempting to show you some form of respect. “Daryl would be less than thrilled if something happened to you.”

“I thought I didn’t have any rights around here?” You crossed your arms, eyes sliding to the side when you heard someone approaching from behind. When they didn’t move where you could see them, you felt your hackles rise. They must have not been informed that you were also a hunter. “If you touch me, you risk losing a body part.” You spat over your shoulder, venom dripping from every syllable. “And I promise you, it’ll be something you’ll definitely miss.” Shane gave you a wide berth as he circled within your sight, hands up as if he were being detained. 

“Look, Y/N, we know that’s Daryl’s baby.” Rick dropped his hands to his sides, bringing one back up immediately to rub at his forehead. 

“And how do you know that?” You knew it was a stupid question. The archer hadn’t left your side the entire time you were unconscious. After you awoke, he was at your beck and call: bringing you food, making sure you drank enough, watching over you as you rested. 

“You were unconscious. You didn’t see him when he brought you here.” Rick was trying so hard to be nice and you knew he meant it. He was a genuine person. 

“He was off the rails! Rantin’ and ravin’ like a lunatic!”

“Shane, you’re not helping.” Rick had tilted his head, directing his statement at his partner but keeping his eyes on the ground at your feet. When he spoke again, his gaze found yours, full of kindness and concern. “We just can’t take any risks.”

Regardless, you would not be deterred. “I’m not asking you to. In fact, I’m not asking at all.” They allowed you to sidestep around them, not following you but you could hear them muttering loudly amongst themselves. 

Finding Daryl’s tent was a piece of cake. You used what you knew of him to conclude that he would be the furthest from the rest. Once inside, you found your pack and knives sitting to one side, surprisingly in a neat pile. In fact, the entire space was orderly enough for you to scratch your head and second guess if you had indeed entered the right tent. 

His bedroll had not been used, the cot not set up. That made sense. He had spent the nights in the house with you while you recovered. You could still feel the warmth his body gave off even with several inches between you. Damn him for going off alone. 

He did have some goodies in his area that you were happy to borrow. Some dried jerky, a length of rope, some extra clothes (for him, just in case), a meager amount of medical supplies (also, just in case), and a flashlight. You’d give it all back. Maybe. 

Knives holstered and bag on your back, you bent down to exit the tent, standing to come face to face with Carol and Lori. Throwing back your head, you groaned. “Not you guys, too.”

“Daryl made it pretty clear that the baby is his.” Lori spoke first. “We’re gonna worry.”

“You’re new, but we’re all in this together. Daryl, too. He’s out there looking for my girl, after all.” Carol held out two canteens of water. “Maggie and Glenn aren’t back yet. That shot Hershel gave you isn’t gonna last much longer. You need to stay hydrated.”

Before you could react, Lori handed you two apples and a can of kidney beans. “You need to eat too. Fruit and protein are good for the baby and for nausea.”

“Thank you.” You turned to allow Carol to place the items in your bag, getting caught in a hug on your way back around. “I’ll be careful, I promise.”

Carol nodded while Lori took your hand and squeezed. “We’ll handle the men. Go on. Daryl left out that way.” You turned your attention to the direction she pointed and gave a nod, jogging off before anyone could intercept you. 

Situations like this were when being a hunter and tracker was beyond beneficial; it could be potentially life saving. Finding the horse’s trail was easy. The shape of the hooves indicated whether the mare was coming or going, as well as the depth, indicating whether or not Daryl was in the saddle. 

He had gone some distance, that was certain. Being on horseback allowed him to cover more ground but he gave up the advantage of being close to the paths. It had to be harder to see any trails from horseback. Then again, he was a marksman with his crossbow. He was eagle-eyed for sure. 

You had been tracking him for at least an hour, the sun getting lower and lower. Rick and Shane had been right about one thing: Daryl would raze that farm to the ground if he came back to learn you had gone out alone. Still, you had to think he’d find it at least a little funny that no one volunteered to go with you. Big strong manly men letting the petite sickly pregnant woman go in the woods all by her lonesome. You snorted at your own thoughts. 

You paused to check the sun’s position in the sky, estimating you had about an hour of daylight left. Even if you abandoned the search and went back at that moment, it would still be dark when you made it. You weren’t hungry, which you considered might be a bad thing, but you were thirsty. Pulling the bag from your shoulders, you crouched to dig through the contents for one of the canteens. It was easily found toward the top. 

“Small sips, small sips.” You reminded yourself. You didn’t yet feel nauseated but tempting fate was not an activity you regularly enjoyed. You did enough of that in the woods with Daryl and now had a baby in your belly for your efforts. You were screwing the lid back onto the canteen while simultaneously scanning the tracks you had been following, when you noticed a drastic change. “The horse startled.” You whispered urgently. You were quick to set aside your bag, moving low to the ground to inspect each print. “She reared. Fuck.” The next set of hoof prints were not as deep. “She threw him.”

You stood quickly, ignoring the very slight bout of light-headedness. “Daryl!” You whisper-yelled as loud as you dared. Efficient as you were, you could only handle so many walkers alone. Again, best not to tempt fate. “Daryl!” When you had made a 180, you saw a drop-off. You felt the nausea then, but it had nothing to do with your condition. You placed a palm against a tree, just in case you were to feel any sudden dizziness. You’d rather not topple over and go tumbling down the rocks into the bloody—water. “Oh fuck.”

The red was billowing out into green and yellow clouds in the water, showing it had been there long enough to dilute a substantial amount. “No, no, no. Daryl!” You moved hastily down the edge, following the water hopefully toward land. You had called louder only to be met with silence. Maybe he was out and gone. Back at camp and ready to have your head on a platter for going after him. Maybe he was nearby and would appear momentarily and call you an idiot for being so loud. 

Neither of those proved to be the case. 

When you spotted the gravelly riverside, you easily found the hunter. The sound you made was somewhere between a sob and a whimper. He was only halfway out of the water, his legs submerged up to his waist. The blood in the water was still a dark red, indicating active bleeding. There was something protruding from his left side that looked suspiciously like one of his bolts. Your first thought was that someone had taken his crossbow and shot him with his own weapon. However, it was lying just above his head, his hand loosely wrapped around it. 

You were past the point of thinking rationally. He could be a grade A asshole but he was your baby’s father. That was enough reason to try your best to get him out of the fucked up predicament he had somehow gotten himself into. 

It wouldn’t stop you from cursing his name the entire time though. 

“How the hell am I supposed to get down there?” You paced the ledge, pulling at your hair. The slope was steep and littered with rocks, limbs, and roots. You couldn’t risk falling. You wouldn’t. 

But there was so much blood. 

“Think, Y/N!” You crouched down, tapping your fingers against the dirt while willing Daryl to move. To yell. Anything. “When I get you out of this mess, Daryl, I’m going to string you up by—” Your eyes flew wide, a gasp leaving your parted lips. Scrambling back to your bag, you dug through it haphazardly until your fingers wrapped around the rope you’d swiped from his tent. “Yes!”

It probably wasn’t long enough to get you all the way to the bottom but it would do to get you low enough for a fall not to injure you. You’d have to be creative, regardless. You couldn’t rappel down; the length was definitely not enough for that. You also couldn’t tie it to a tree on the ledge either. It would take too much rope. You needed to move down the slope a bit and use one of the tree roots. 

Which meant taking a risk. 

“I swear if you die, I’m killing you.” You muttered, while shrugging your bag onto your back. Your ass met the dirt somewhat roughly in your haste to get moving. The body could only lose so much blood before—Anyway, you had to go. You moved down carefully, keeping your backside firmly on the ground whilst you prodded rocks and limbs to ensure they would hold your weight. There was a sturdy, sizable root just a few more feet. If it was embedded deep enough, you could use it to get you down safely as well as get you both back up. 

You were nearly there when your foot slipped from the edge of a rock. It was easy to right yourself, given how carefully you were moving but it didn’t stop your heart from leaping into your nose. Looking down, you realized you had grabbed your stomach instinctively. With a calming breath, you gave your tummy a pat. “We got this, little thumper.”

The root was easy to get the rope around, secured with a bowline knot. You then loosely secured the end around your waist, high enough not to snap taut around your belly if you were to fall. It’d probably break your back, honestly, but eh, you were optimistic. 

You let the slack fall and grabbed on a couple of feet below the knot. “Here goes nothin’.” You started down at a faster pace than before. You couldn’t slide on your ass the whole way, that would take forever. 

Daryl didn’t have forever. 

You called his name every few seconds, as quietly as you could while being loud enough for him to hopefully hear. You made about three-fourths of the way down when you heard a familiar sound that made your blood freeze. Your head snapped up to some foliage across the riverbank, panicked eyes zeroing in on the walker making a beeline for the same figure you were trying to make your way toward. 

“Hey!” You shouted. You waved an arm frantically but the stench of blood had the corpse’s entire focus. “Goddamnit!” With no alternative, you ripped off your flannel and put it between your hands and the rope. Bracing your weight mostly on the root above, you stood slightly and all but ran down the slope. Each time you misstepped, you threw your weight onto the rope. It would sling you sharply but with nowhere else to go, you could get right back to the descent. 

Unfortunately, the rope eventually ran out. 

Eyes on the walker getting entirely too close to Daryl, you scrambled to untie the line. “Fuck!” The corpse had dropped to its knees and was crawling the last few feet. You yanked your knife from the holster and cut yourself free in a single swipe, barreling toward the water. “Get away from him!”

It finally noticed you, looking your way while Daryl’s arm was in its rotten clutches. Your knife sank into its skull with ease. As much as the smell made you gag, you grabbed the thing as it toppled and pulled. You couldn’t let it fall into the water. Not with Daryl having an open wound. 

Panting through tears, you freed your knife and crawled toward the archer. If you had been one second later, he’d have been bitten. The way that thought devastated you down to your very soul frightened you. You checked his arm first, just to be sure. No bites. No scratches. There was no time to revel in that relief. You stopped to brush your fingertips over a cut above his right temple. From the fall, you surmised. 

The most concerning injury was that it was indeed his bolt impaling his side and it seemed to have gone all the way through. “Damnit, Daryl, what happened?” You felt lost, hands hovering while your chest began to tighten with the all too familiar heaviness of impending panic. “No, you can’t freak out. You cannot freak out.”

First thing was first. You had to get him out of the water. He would be lucky if bacteria hadn’t already seeped into his wound. You could only pray that Hershel had antibiotics in his possession. 

You shed your rucksack close to a nearby tree. The area would give you a view of the entirety of your surroundings. With Daryl injured, you would need to remain vigilant. You were responsible for the safety of three now. 

Moving him would be difficult. It would be pulling dead weight, and was most definitely over the weight limit a pregnant person should be messing with. But you didn’t have a choice. 

“Okay, little thumper. You just be strong in there while I get your dumbass father out of this mess.”

It was a struggle to get him angled on his right side. You couldn’t drag him flat and risk disturbing the bolt lodged in his skin. Hands tightly gripping his forearms, you began to pull, your boots sliding in the gravel. It was going to be quite the journey but you were moving him little by little. 

With a strained grunt, you paused and leaned forward to put your hands on your knees to catch your breath. Just as you leaned forward to grab hold of him again, a cold slimy hand grabbed onto your bicep, yanking you back. How had you not heard the walker approaching? Wasn’t pregnancy supposed to heighten your senses?

“Fuck!” You grappled with the corpse of a man, finding it tough to keep his clicking teeth away from your arm. He was pushing you back easily but you couldn’t let go to get to your knife. One wrong move would result in a chunk being ripped from your arm. Your muscles were tiring, being pushed to their limit. To make matters worse, you could see another walker shambling its way toward the scrap. There was no hope of fending off two of them. 

You cried out in frustration and lifted your foot to connect the toe of your boot roughly with the corpse’s knee, causing it to stumble. You had one shot. With your forearm pressing into its throat, you were able to grab your knife and sink the blade into the soft skull with a sickening squelch. There was no time to catch your breath as the second one slammed into your side and took off your feet. 

Your legs were pinned under its body, forcing you to battling at an awkward angle to stave off its attempts to rip into your thighs. Your knife was within reach, but grabbing it meant one side would be vulnerable. 

“Goddamnit! Get off me, you decaying bastard!” 

The walker shifted and gave you the opportunity to bend your right knee and place the sole of your boot against its abdomen. A solid kick forced it back. You were free to scramble backward and grab your knife, but when you lifted it to strike, you spotted another walker crawling toward you, its empty eyes giving you a glimpse of your fate. Ripped open, half eaten only to rise again; mindless and starving for a taste of flesh. 

This was it. You’d done all you could. You’d fight them to the death but they had you. It was only a matter of time before—

A bolt pierced the second walker, entering through its temple. It landed in the dirt with a dusty thud. You knew exactly what had happened and once the last walker was dead, you would survey the damage. You flung yourself forward and drove your knife through its right eye. It fell still, its weight heavy on your lap. 

“Goddamnit, Daryl!” You exclaimed. 

The hunter was on his knees at the water’s edge, swaying dangerously. The left side of his body was now void of the bolt, rivulets of blood dripping from his saturated shirt. His crossbow fell from his grip as he pitched forward to land on all fours. 

“Shit.” You wiggled free from beneath the walker, sheathing your knife before dropping to your knees beside Daryl. You laid a gentle hand on the middle of his back. “Hey, let’s get you over there so I can take a look at you.”

“Who—came with—you?” He asked breathlessly, his head remaining bowed as if he just didn’t have the strength to lift it. Hell, he probably didn’t. 

You knew he wouldn’t like the answer. You hated to upset him but you wouldn’t lie. “I came alone.” He visibly tensed, fingers digging into the dirt and rock below him. 

“Why—the fuck—would ya do that?”

“Because the horse came back without you. Because our baby needs their father.” You reached for his bicep and pulled him up onto his knees so that you were able to put his arm across your shoulders. “Because I was worried about you.” 

He gave you a look from the corner of his eye, his head still hanging. “S’a shit reason—to risk the—two’a ya.”

“Did you miss the other two reasons?” You shot back, getting your legs under you so you could lift him without pulling your back or stomach. “Selective hearing, I swear. On three: one. Two. Three!” You managed to get you both upright, but Daryl was quick to curl forward with a sound much too close to a whimper for your liking. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“S’fine. Just—” He trailed off with a languid wave of his hand. You took that to mean he was ready to move and began the short walk to the tree. It didn’t take long but he was somehow even more pale and sweating by the time you helped lower him to recline against the trunk. “Found—found her doll.”

“What?” You weren’t really listening. With his shirt pulled up, you could get a good look at the wound. It was still bleeding sluggishly, but still far too much for your liking. “Did you really pull out that bolt?” You asked while leaning around him to see the back as best you could. 

“Y’ain’t—ain’t listenin’.” The hunter gave you a weak shove, barely moving you at all. “Found—Sophia’s doll.”

“She was here.” Looking around, you saw nothing and you would not leave him to go track. “Where’s the doll?” Daryl jutted his chin toward a downed tree that was close to the shallow water. Even going that meager distance from him felt like you were leaving him unprotected. However, you knew he would hound you until you obliged his request. 

You jogged over, your muscles tired and stomach beginning to feel ill at ease. Sure enough, there laid the doll. You snatched it up and returned to him, taking a moment to place the toy in your bag and pull out supplies. 

“How did this happen?”

“Fell—fell on it.”

“Graceful.” You smirked, ignoring the weak middle finger lifted toward you. “Let’s get this bleeding under control and get back to the farm.” You raised his shirt again but this time he seemed to take notice and went rigid. 

“It’ll keep, just leave it.”

Your mouth gaped. “You can’t be serious.” You admonished him. “I’m not sure you noticed but there is a literal hole in your side. We can’t go back without some sort of treatment first.” His usually bright blue eyes were cloudy when he looked at you. “It’s nearly dark. Stop arguing with me and let’s get this done.”

“Ain’t enough—time to—get back tonight.”

“We can’t stay here, Daryl. We’re sitting ducks.” You started grabbing other things you needed even as he tried to talk you out of it: food, water. 

“I can. Go on—back. Come back—back tomorrow—with help.” He winced when he pressed a palm against the wound so he could shift to a more comfortable position. 

“I’m not leaving you.”

“Y/N, s’not—”

“I said no, Daryl.” You reached for his shirt again and he didn’t stop you but there was a panicked undertone in his eyes. “Just far enough for me to see the wound, okay?” A visible relief; his shoulders dropped and he let his head fall back against the tree. 

The bleeding had slowed, showing signs that it was beginning to clot. That was great news but it didn’t replace all he had already lost. The wound needed a proper cleaning and stitches, both of which you were not well equipped. You could handle it if you had the supplies. You’d sewn yourself up plenty of times. 

With a sigh, you got up to fetch your flannel from where you’d left it near the rope. You were already tearing it into strips before you returned to Daryl’s side. You tried to be as quick as possible; taping down gauze, folding pieces of your flannel to press over those. Lacking enough to make a compression bandage, you tied pieces of material together. 

“Almost done.” You had to lean into his space to pull the makeshift bandage around his back. His tired eyes flitted back and forth between yours while you found yourself glancing at his lips. You cleared your throat and sat back on your heels. “This is gonna hurt but just try to be as quiet as you can.”

Daryl watched you for a moment and then nodded. He visibly tensed and closed his eyes a mere moment before you pulled the material tight around the wound. To his credit, he merely grunted but the hard lines of pain on his face told a different story. 

“There. That’s the best I can do right now.” You were beyond concerned. The thought of spending the night there with the archer being so grievously wounded was intimidating. You knew there was no other choice. One of the canteens was on the ground beside you where you had placed it when grabbing out supplies. If he was going to stand any chance of surviving, Daryl had to cooperate. This should be fun. “I need you to drink some water. You’ve lost a lot of blood. We have to keep you hydrated until we can get out of here.”

“Nah.” Much to your chagrin, he turned his head. “Ya need—it more—than I do.” He was beginning to look dazed, fighting off the overwhelming urge to allow his body to rest. 

“Stop being a brat and drink the water.” You pressed the canteen to his lips, dropping your mask to wear your concern like a second skin. “Please. I promise I have enough for me too.”

You thought he might argue or once again refuse, but he finally parted his lips with a sigh. You tilted the canteen, flinching when his much too cold hand covered yours to help control how much he was getting. 

“I need to build a fire. Keep it small.” You weren’t really talking to him but he hummed in response anyway. He was cold and clammy. You’d bet money that would be worthless in that world that if you checked his pulse, it would be racing. “I think you’re going into shock. I need to get you warm.”

“M’fine.” His voice was quiet, too drained to offer up a convincing tone. 

You went about gathering what you could find that could hold the highest possibility of burning. “You know what, keep telling yourself that. Maybe your stubbornness will pay off.” Placing some rocks down so you could control the flames, you placed your tinder bundle in the center along with some sticks and wood chips for kindling. You had to do this the old fashioned way. Daryl was watching you with slow blinks as you went about your method. 

You thanked whatever deity that was listening for your experience in the wilderness. You were nurtured by the woods growing up. The trees were like family, offering shade, protection, and a means of warmth or preparing your meals. You had learned the ways to survive. Granted, back then, walking corpses that wanted to eat your intestines weren’t a thing. Scared as you were, you knew you could make it. You could make it. But now, you had to keep Daryl alive as well. 

“Finally.” You sat back with a smug grin, watching the fire burn. You just hoped it would be enough. “Come on, let’s get you settled closer to the fire. Then I’ll heat the beans I have. Daryl swatted at your hands. 

“M’fine here.”

You huffed through your nose. “No, you’re not. Your skin is freezing. I don’t have any blankets. We need to keep you warm.”

“Fine.” He began to lever his way to his feet, growling with annoyance once you swooped in to help him. “Can do it—can do it myself.”

“Shut up and let me help.” You didn’t let go and he didn’t try to force you. He was panting by the time you lowered him down to lie on this back. He couldn’t be comfortable. “Um, one second.” There wasn’t a lot left of your flannel but you could make it work. Folding it to the best of your ability, you gently lifted his head and placed the article  beneath it. As an afterthought, you pulled the clean shirt you had grabbed for him and draped it over his upper half. It would have to do for the time being. “Okay, just rest and I’ll wake you for some food and water in a bit.”

Hours passed agonizingly slowly. You had tried to get Daryl to eat but he had refused. At least he drank the water. You yourself had eaten a third of the can of beans. Everything seemed to be going alright until you found yourself regurgitating into the bushes. Your stomach was turning inside out, now rejecting even the water. 

Carol had warned you this would happen but you couldn’t wait. You didn’t regret it either. Daryl would have surely died had you not gone in search of him. 

Wiping your mouth on the back of your hand, you staggered back toward the fire. You were steps away when you realized that Daryl was—talking. And not just talking, but conversing. There’s no one there. 

It felt wrong in some ways to move closer; to be able to hear him. It was as if a person was sitting right next to him. Daryl’s eyes were open; mere slits but open. 

“Screw you.”

“A girl. They—lost a little—girl.”

“Shut up.”

“Tried like hell—to find ya, bro.”

Bro? Daryl had a brother. It was unknown if he was alive or dead. You only knew from Carol. Daryl never let you that close. He was hallucinating which was bad. Very bad. You took a step forward, ignoring your stomach’s protests for the time being. Should you wake him? 

“We went—back for ya. Rick an’ I, we—did right by ya.”

“I ain’t nobody’s bitch.”

“Don’t talk—’bout her like that. Y/N—she’s—diff’rent.”

Wide eyes blinked. He was talking about you. Granted, it was during a moment of psychological weakness but still. It felt even more wrong to allow it to continue. 

“I ain’t gonna be—like our daddy. My kid—ain’t gonna be like us. Like you or me.”

Your heart ached for him. You knew nothing about Daryl’s childhood but now you knew it wasn’t pleasant. Shaking your head, you kneeled next to his arm and placed a hand against his cheek. No fever. This had to be coming from the head injury. “Daryl.” He seemed to be looking right through you. Still, he lifted a hand and let the back of his knuckles brush along your jaw. 

“See, Merle? Told ya—she was diff’rent.” His hand fell away, blue eyes disappearing behind heavy lids. 

“Daryl?” You said urgently, fingers searching along his neck for a pulse. It was there, albeit a little fast but there. You felt weak and allowed yourself to fall back onto your ass, scooting until your back was against the tree. 

From what Carol had told you, Daryl’s brother was vile. He was toxic and the younger Dixon had changed slightly without his influence. She had said Daryl was brash and intimidating, preferred to be alone. Hated to be touched. Yet he had sought out your company twice a week like clockwork. He had talked to you, brief and unimportant statements and questions, but he had talked. He had let you touch him. Intimately. 

“She’s—diff’rent.”

It was dangerous to let your mind wander down the paths it had created from his simple words to a brother who wasn’t there. But let it wander, you did. Maybe Daryl didn’t just care about the baby. Maybe he was impertinent toward you because you had gotten too close. Maybe you had managed to penetrate the walls he had built to protect himself. 

Maybe—just maybe—you had allowed him to pass through your own defenses. 

And that was more terrifying to you than any walking corpse in a dystopian world. 

[hedgehog-moss]

Poldine's Hike, Vol. II

(^ people who said this on my last post, I sure hope you meant it !)

I went on a few more walks with her (though not all the way to the stream) since the one I talked about yesterday, so here's some bonus Pampoldine-on-a-walk content :)

She's a little bit devious sometimes (trying to make her mum proud) (without actually breaking any laws. It's tough) and in the first 10min of each walk she pretends to be stumped by every branch or shrub that even slightly blocks the path, in the hopes I'll go "oh no, an insurmountable obstacle, guess we'd better go home then :( " No one buys that you can't deal with a branch in your way, Poldine. There are trees in your pasture. You know what a branch is.

(I love that she rewards herself with some leaves after the strenuous feat of ducking under a branch. I'm not sure if the cheek kiss I got was apologetic or just an unthinking reflex as she walks past someone with a face. I should change this post's title to Poldine's Kisses: Vol. I)

2. Pirlouit has a new job! A fixed-term contract. The farmer who owns the barn near my pasture always cuts the grass around it in the spring and this year I offered Pirlouit's services to spare him the trouble, and he said it was a good idea. So I moved Pirou to a small enclosure around the barn, and he's taking his mission to clear all the grass seriously.

(well, here I caught him on a union break)

He can see the llamas (and my house) from where he is so he's not in exile, but he's still by himself at the moment so we went to pay him a visit. Poldine immediately did what she does best.

3. I also spent some time walking on the road with her so she'd get used to cars (that was the initial plan but since cars are rare it turned into me sitting on the side of the road reading a book to Poldine as we waited for a car to show up). One car stopped and the driver & passenger rolled down their windows to ask if they could take pictures of Poldine, which they did, and then I asked them if they would like a bise greeting from a llama and they looked pretty delighted and leant out of the window so Poldine could kiss their cheek. (I'm trying to teach her to give more than 1 bise because we're not in Brittany but she prefers quality over quantity.)

She was still a tad bit nervous about being so close to a car with the engine running, but she came closer of her own volition when she realised she had the opportunity to distribute kisses.

I might just introduce a tollbooth on this road. Little kiosk with Pampoldine inside (wearing some kind of official hat), you take a ticket and a long llama neck slithers out and a fuzzy kiss is deposited on your cheek, then the automated gate goes up.

[mickandmusings]

iii. pretend that it's love

part of the ' hangman & honey ' series!

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

word count: 3.3k

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

-

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

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

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

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

"You're so cocky sometimes, Seresin."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"W-What?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Honey felt the same way.

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Jake?" Her voice is quiet.

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

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

"Honey, I meant it like that."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Whatever you want, sweetheart."

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

-

taglist:

@djs8891

[bullet-prooflove]

They say there’s no time left So, let’s live for tonight

For Kayce Dutton

Tagging: @kmc1989 @midnightheat @queenslandlover-93 @littledreamer9211

Bonfire Heart - Kayce starts to feel something for the first time since Monica.

Jean Jacket - Kayce loves the sight of you in his jacket.

Changing of the Seasons - Kayce realises he misses you.

More (NSFW) - Kayce tells you he needs more.

Final Words - Kayce discovers the truth about Lee.

As always time runs out on you and Kayce, after a year of doing this he should be used to it but he’s not, he never is. When you straddle his hips tonight, he can tell you feel it too. You’re softer then all of the other times, more tender. Your fingertips ghost along his jaw as you look into his eyes and Kayce can see how hard this is for you, it’s hard for him too.

His hands chase all over your skin as you make love in the darkness, the sound of your hitched breathing resounding through the air as he hits that sweet spot, over and over and over again until you combust like a star underneath his hands.

You’re beautiful in the moment, wild, untamed, everything that Kayce has spent his entire life craving and it’s at that point that he realises how far he’s fallen, how deeply in love with you he really was.

Stay he wants to say, stay with me.

But he doesn’t because a woman like you, she needs to be free and Kayce, he understands that more than anyone.

It’s the next morning that he says goodbye to you on his front porch, his thumb chases over the apple of your cheek as his forehead comes to rest upon yours.

“Stay in touch alright?” He whispers, his lips ghosting over yours. “I wouldn’t mind hearing from you every once in a while.”

“We’ll see.” You tell him and that’s all that he can ask for because you don’t do commitment, it doesn’t make sense when you’re on the road for the majority of the year.

It’s a week later that Kayce’s phone rings, he’s expecting it to be Ryan or Rip, filling him in on some bullshit he needs to fix up in the pastures. He doesn’t expect to hear your voice or the way that something just lights up in his chest when he does.

It becomes a regular thing, you calling him from the road. You fill him in on your exploits, on Travis slowing down his antics. You think he’s seeing someone and the two of you spend an entire evening trying to work out who it is that has captured the old rodeo king’s heart.

It’s when you get back in his orbit he realises just how much everything has changed. Instead of turning up in his bed the way you usually do, you hug him with a ferocity he feels in the very depths of his bones on the porch.

“Christ, I’ve missed you.” You say as he clasps you close and he understands how much the concession costs you, that by telling him that, you’re choosing to take a risk on him.

“Oh Darlin.” He whispers, his lips brushing over your hairline. “Lord knows I’ve missed you too.”

Love Kayce? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[bellarkeselection]

hey! I have a submission/request for a fanfic for whenever you can get to it.

While Monica and Kayce are separated, Kayce and a female farm hand (who has been around for a few years) end up having a drunken night together. Feeling ashamed, she ends up drinking in the pasture (clearly hasn’t learnt her lesson) with Rip. She ends up having a night with Rip as well. Well a few weeks later she finds out she is pregnant and doesn’t know who the father is. She tries to hide the pregnancy for a bit until she can find out the paternity but something happens and she has to spill the beans to them

Two Baby Daddy’s

None of us say that we are going to help someone cheat on their husband or wife…sometimes these things happen. But what I didn’t expect was having two possible baby daddy's to the infant growing in my belly…let's go back to the beginning though shall we?

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes I rolled over on my side feeling a soft bed mattress underneath me. My gaze found a familiar tousled locks of brown curly hair that could only belong to Kayce Dutton. I sat slightly up on the pillows just staring at him. “You sure know how to show a girl a good time, Dutton.” I kissed his head climbing out of the covers shrugging on my clothes that we had thrown around the room the night before.

I snatched my hat off the door handle leaving his bedroom and went straight to the barn. Climbing on my horse the work day wasn't bad and the guys were playing poker and drinking beer by the end of the night. I walked outside of the building leaning against the wooden fence drinking from my beer hearing footsteps coming up behind me. “You didn’t talk much today. Care to explain why?” Rip came walking up to me.

“The cattle don't care much for talkin’. And I just didn't have anything good to share except that I am a coward who can’t tell the guy I like how I feel without a whole lot of alcohol.” I take a long drink feeling the buzz in my head starting to appear.

Rip leans on the fence watching me. I had been a loyal farm hand for years. He respected me as much as John does. “Everybody makes mistakes in their life. You just have to man up and take responsibility for it.”

“That sounds like a good idea. But I'd rather do the opposite it and just make the pair go away for a few hours. What do ya say, Wheeler?” I swayed my hips at him holding the beer bottle in my freehand trying to gain his attention.

Rip stood there for a moment debating in his head. He knew Beth would tear down whoever slept with her man even though she didn't much care for labels on relationships. “Beth wouldn't like that very much if we hooked up.”

“Hey, it's not like I'm just some random girl. I am her best friend and you could just say you did it to make me happy for a night. She won't sink her claws into me over that.” I slowly walked up to him running my freehand down his chest ever so slowly. “What do you say. One more girl before you make Berh your wife forever?”

Y/n, I….hell with it.” Rip decided to change his mind cupping my face and smashing his lips onto mine before his brain told him this was wrong.

Moving my hands up his chest I moaned into the kiss enjoying the feeling. The bottle in my hands dropped to the dust and dirt underneath our boots. Rip tugged me closer to his chest deepening the kiss. “We should get out of here before they come looking for us out here.” He warned me of the cowboys fighting inside the bunkhouse over who was really winning the poker game.

Dragging me to his cabin Rip kicked open the door and I jumped up into his arms wrapping my legs around his waist. He carried me to his bedroom, sitting me on the bed. We each quickly removed our clothes before I held his face in my hands pulling him down onto me and the bed.

That night was two weeks ago and it brought more conflict than I ever wanted in my life.

Walking down the hallway of the main house and to Beth’s room I knocked three times before she opened the door knowing it was me. “Did you get what I asked you for?”

“Yes I did. My father knows I can’t have kids. So you better be more discreet about this.” She moved out of the way, letting me inside the bedroom. She reached into her purse handing me a pack of pregnancy tests.

Taking out one I went into the nearest bathroom while she stood guard inside with me, blocking the door shut with her body. “Thanks Beth…..oh I’m so screwed now.” Holding the test in my hands it took a few minutes before we had an answer.

“Do you know who the father is?” She questioned me, arms crossed over her chest.

Lifting my head up I felt my entire body shiver at the thought. I hadn’t told her about me and Rip yet since it was just a one time thing. “I uh….I slept with Rip. But I also slept with Kayce a few days earlier.”

“If you were anyone else I would kick your ass. But because you are my friend I will help you hide this until you find out who the father is.” She responded to me helping me to my feet before we went our separate ways.

Weeks later -

Climbing down from my horse as quickly as possible when I got into the barn after work saying that I wasn’t feeling too good and so Rip let me heed back earlier. Stumbling into the dirt I rushed over to one of the empty stalls that we kept the horses in. I bent my head over the wall and puked whatever was in my stomach. “Y/n, woah hey. Hey are you alright?”

“Kayce?” I croaked through the fact that I was trying to catch my breath still.

He was holding my hair back out of my face when I slowly turned around to face him. “Rip said you weren't feeling well so I thought I'd come check on you.”

“Thanks Kayce. But I'm fine.” I pushed away from him, snatching my hat up from the dirt ground and dusting the dust off of it.

Kayce stared at me and stepped forward grabbing me by the forearm when I attempted to leave the barn. “Hold on a second. There's something I need to talk to you about. Beth, just told me she wants me and Rip to come down to the hospital with you.”

“Shit Bethany. What the hell are you doing?” I cursed under my breath.

I have been keeping this a secret for a few weeks now. I needed to keep my job after all and not ruin my friendship or whatever that I had with the Dutton standing in front of me now. I had gone to the hospital yesterday evening asking for a paternity test to find out who the father of the baby was. “Do you want to explain why she would want me and Rip to go to the hospital with you?”

“Kayce, I…it’s because-”

“Y/n, are you feeling better? We managed to finish the job earlier so the boys are going out for drinks if you want to come with us.” Rip's voice entered the barn and he dismounted his horse seeing the two of us.

Glancing over my shoulder, my chest tightening in a panic mode. “Rip?”

“Is something going on here I need to involve the boss in?” Rip points his finger from me to Kayce.

Clutching my hands into fists I sucked in a sharp breath. The two men were just staring at me now. Thanks to Beth I supposed I have no choice but to explain the situation if I don't want them to both be angry with me later down the line. “There's something I need to talk to you two about…I'm pregnant.” Lifting the sweatshirt I had on you could see a growing belly underneath the shirt I was wearing.

“You're pregnant. How far along…do you think it's mine?’ Kayce covers his mouth with his hands.

Rip blinked when I focused my attention on him. “Or it could be mine.”

“Yes, That's why I took the test. The reason Beth told you Kayce is because the doctor has the results now.” I whispered avoiding their gazes on me.

Rip headed towards the doorway and we followed him to the truck. Beth came with us since she knew I needed a friend when we entered the room and the doctor came in with the results. “This will be a very interesting conversation for the father. So I will say congratulations to you Y/n. The father has the same blood DNA as Mr. Dutton.”

“I'm gonna be a father again?” Kayce breathed out.

Beth pushed the doctor out of the room and Rip followed her out into the hallway leaving us alone in the room. “Thanks for the help. Now let them yell at each other then kiss alone.”

I remained in my seat, hands covering my mouth with my hands so terrified of what I would say to him. There were two options he could say to me. He would either be happy or not want anything to do with me and our baby. “Kayce, I don't know where to start. I should have told you how I felt before now. It shouldn't have been alcohol to make me have the guts to tell you that I've had feelings for you for years.”

“It was because of Monica and me why you didn't say anything wasn't it?” He turned his head at me and we were looking the other in the eye. “I'm sorry I didn't see your feelings earlier…I love Tate. I guess he was right that I was too chicken to tell you the truth.”

I blinked through some tears needing to hear the words from him to believe it. “Kayce, how do you feel about me?”

“This is how, Darling.” He got to his feet, getting down on his knees in front of me. I gasped feeling him press his lips down onto mine slowly. Wrapping my arms around his neck I kissed him back until we needed air and he was panting for breath. “I've always had feelings for you. I won't leave you and this baby.”

I gasped sniffing through happy tears. “You won't. But what about Tate?”

“He's gonna be thrilled to have a sibling.” Kayce chuckled, kissing my forehead. “I love you Y/n.”

Laying my head against his chest I smiled when he wrapped his arms around my waist holding me. “I love you too, Kayce.”

[copperbadge]

I went to the library this afternoon, intending to get a study room and do some work on the novel, but I got distracted and ended up spending the two hours working on a short story instead.

Georgie has said that Michaelis hired her after she rescued his friend's child from a kidnapping, and it was suggested to me recently that the friend could be Oliver McAllister, Michaelis's old school mate from Pirates of the Riviera. I was skeptical because the timing didn't quite work out, but I couldn't stop thinking about the idea, so I decided to try making it work.

And let me tell you, these messy bitches.

In 2015, Michaelis is deep in his Kingbot 3000 phase so he doesn't have to Have Feelings, and Gregory has coerced him into taking a vacation by threatening a coup. Meanwhile, Olly is fresh from his second divorce, from a woman who just tried to kidnap their child. Georgie is the most together person in the room and she's an unemployed twentysomething who just beat three men unconscious to prevent said kidnapping.

And the most amusing part to me is that because of how I set it up, Michaelis is just trying to be friendly but inadvertently keeps coming across like he's trying to seduce Georgie. Which also makes Georgie joking about trying to marry him for his money in Royals/Ramblers even funnier.

"Ma'am, the police would like to take a statement," Lael said to Georgie.

"I can have Lael find you a lawyer if you want," Michaelis added. She gave him a sardonic look. 

"All right, let's get it over with," she sighed. "There goes my visit to the Musee D'Orsay."

"We'll give you the room. Olly, why don't you go in with your boy, so the police can speak with you if needed. Lael and I will be at the cafe next door when you've finished."

Georgie nodded, but he stopped as he passed her and put a hand on her arm.

"Come see us when you're done," he said quietly, ducking his head so the police at the doorway couldn't see their faces. "And cancel your job interview in London."

"Excuse me?" she asked.

"Stay in Paris. You can see the museum this weekend. The palace will cover your lodging and food."

"I...don't want to offend," she said slowly, "but I'm not -- " 

"I'm not flirting with you," he said, realizing belatedly how it might seem to her, and taking his hand from her arm. She looked faintly relieved. "I'm going to spend the time you're giving a statement assembling a job offer for you with my security office. Any young woman who can spot a kidnapping before it happens and soundly beat three grown men should not be leaving Askazer-Shivadlakia to do a job she hates in London. Now, regardless of that, and I say this as a concerned friend, not as king or employer: be honest and helpful with the police, but...economical."

"Just the facts?" she asked. 

"Exactly." He gave her an approving nod and followed Lael out. They were silent in the hallway and lobby, until they stepped out into the street and Lael exhaled.

"That was impressive," he said. "Young lady has a great right hook."

"She's certainly very alert," Michaelis agreed.

"It's been a long time since I've seen someone throw a punch like that."

"Say it and you're fired," Michaelis said good-naturedly. He'd known Lael since the head of security had been a young palace aide during Michaelis's first days as king -- if still years older than the king himself -- and he knew what was coming. 

"Not since our last trip to Galia," Lael said, voice full of relish. "That time a young hothead punched Duke Tomas in the face."

"Utterly fired. I've found your replacement. I'm putting you out to pasture with no pension." 

"You think she'd make a good successor to me?" Lael asked. He was joking but, simultaneously, he was not -- they were both getting older, and Lael was as aware as Michaelis that when a new king was elected in a few years, whoever it was, they would need someone younger, someone who could more easily keep up with them. 

"You tell me," Michaelis said. "You're the expert." 

"Oh, I've been fired, clearly my opinion isn't wanted," Lael said, as they settled into a table at the cafe, Lael with his back to the wall, eyes always scanning behind Michaelis. There had never, at least as far as Michaelis knew, been an attempt on his life, but he'd become used to never getting direct eye contact in public from the man whose job it was, after all, to watch his back. 

"Fine, I withdraw your firing. I suspect purely on her ability to sass me, she is your equal if not your better," he added, as the waitress approached. He ordered coffee and pastries briskly, then turned back to Lael. 

"Well, it's difficult to tell on two minutes' acquaintance," Lael replied, "but actions do speak louder than words." 

"Agreed. Perhaps a contingent offer? She has a law degree; she could likely earn more than we could offer her for a job like yours, but I think she's looking for the right job, not the right pay. Say three months of probation with guaranteed six months of pay to ensure she takes it, and a firm permanent offer at the end if you approve? Conditions non-negotiable but a bit of wiggle room in the salary, I think." 

Lael considered it, then nodded. "I suppose it's paranoia to imagine she might have arranged all this to get into the Palace employ."

"As what, a spy? I love a thriller novel, Lael, but they are fiction," Michaelis replied, amused.

[crippled-peeper]

I found you through the thick water shortage post you made back in February and honestly decided to follow you because I admired the way you chose to respond to the ableist comments.

I’ve spent most of my life figuring out how to be a well spoken and charming people pleaser thinking it would help me get my needs met and convince people to respect me and. Holy shit was I put through hell anyways because I didn’t fight back. Not ONE person respected me more because of how I acted, if anything people respected me LESS and just hurt me more (I’m fine now, dw).

I’m now learning that if someone, especially a stranger, already doesn’t respect you, nothing you can do will convince them and all throwing yourself at their feet will do is make you the perfect doormat to be walked all over. Seriously fawning and complying with “moderate your tone” remarks may work at first but it’s always a fucking trap. When people start to expect that shit from you, you just get STUCK doing it. And they’ll just keep PUSHING for more until you have NOTHING.

So given everything that was said in those comments, your replies were more than warranted.

What I’m trying to say is that given what I’m used to, it was nice to see someone push back and not hold anything back. Honestly this may come off as glazing but when I saw your replies I was genuinely in awe of how you didn’t back down or bother filtering yourself despite how many people told you to. And you’ve become somewhat of an inspiration for me.

Like I’m not joking, I was genuinely happy to see you fight back with your full unfiltered anger and not give a fuck what anyone thinks and I thought “I wanna be more like that.” Because I genuinely think the world needs more anger and people should be allowed to be rude instead of spending ages formulating well spoken sentences, like no one should have to ever filter their rage at being mistreated and told to “take the high road.” The high road holds no promises that they will stop.

Please continue to piss off the ableists who complain about you being mean, we both know what they’re really trying to do. No one deserves to be mistreated and why the fuck should you let them get away with it?

But also, remember that if those assholes start weighing on you and replying to people who sound like a broken record gets tiring, you don’t owe anyone your time or attention. Frankly it’s way more than they deserve.

Wishing you well ❤️

P.S. I love your blog theme, green is my favorite color.

This is such a sweet letter thank you for sending me it. It really makes me feel valued and understood and appreciated 😭❤️ I will keep kicking around on here until the cows come in from the pasture

[creekfiend]

I love my imp that tracks my heart rate continuously because I was planning to go down to the pasture and brush out blues undercoat this afternoon but as I was changing into pasture clothes my imp was like "hey what are you doing please take it easy this is way too much exertion!!!" which tells me that I should wait until a day when I can get someone to drive me down and back bc walking up that hill made me skyrocket to like 160 bpm the other day lmfao.

[phillippadgettwrites]

Sense, Chapter 3: Smell

Rated X / 1130 words / Posted on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

Mulder leans across the console with a familiar impish glint in his eye, the corner of his mouth already cocked in amusement. 

“That’s a direct violation of the Bureau’s agent conduct policy, you know,” he teases, so close that the heat of his breath warms her cheeks. 

The skunky bite of cheap motel coffee creeps into her nose, alongside something so distinctly Mulder that she could never properly describe it. When did she learn to recognize the smell of his breath? 

She lifts her head and smiles at him mirthfully, knowing that the rest of their day will be spent carefully suppressing flirtatious one-liners and sidelong glances. 

“You’re not going to report me, are you?” she asks, feigning helplessness, and he laughs, sending another waft of his toothpaste-spiked coffee breath her way. 

She feels a flush from her shoulders to her pelvis, ending in a hearty throb from her clit. Her face falls, caught off guard by her own arousal, and Mulder quirks his head at her curiously. 

“Something wrong?”

Scully shakes her head, turning towards the windshield and sitting up straighter in her seat. 

“We should probably get moving,” she tells him, and he starts the engine.

She’s recently learned that he’s handsy in the morning, pawing at her under her T-shirt while she spreads butter over freshly toasted bread. He likes to watch her get ready for work and then hike her skirt up around her hips so he can eat her pussy before they drive to the Hoover in separate cars, or bend her over her kitchen table with her slacks bunched up around her knees and fuck her so hard it makes her eyes water and her mascara run. He doesn’t even come most of the time, perhaps as a courtesy so she doesn’t have to feel him leaking out of her half the day—not that she’d mind it. When he sleeps over, she wakes to the smell of coffee brewing and realizes she’s already turned on. 

He might get her in the shower, two fingers curled up inside her and the butt of his palm pressed against her clit, the huff of his coffee breath and the sight of his stiff wet cock taking her over the edge. He could pop her up on the edge of the kitchen counter, still in her robe, and fuck her in long, deep strokes while he sucks on her earlobe. Sometimes she doesn’t even make it out of bed before he rolls her onto her belly and slips into her from behind. Prone and half asleep, she’s coming before she hears the coffee pot beep its announcement that it’s done brewing.

But today she woke up alone in a motel bed, the only identifiable smell the musk of a prior occupant who did not adhere to the room’s non-smoking designation. No one watched her strip off her pajamas or slipped in behind her in the shower. No one waited until she was primped and polished to defile her below the waist. It makes her feel like pouting, which she knows is ridiculous. 

Scully huffs an overly dramatic sigh and watches the flat pasture land surrounding the highway whip past them. She has a feeling it’s going to be a long day. 

“Do you wanna stop for coffee?” Mulder asks, and she turns and looks at him. 

He looks markedly delicious in his navy suit and gray tie, and she can practically feel the smoothness of his freshly shaved cheek on her lips. Coffee isn’t the pick-me-up she wants right now. 

He flashes her a surprised smile and her cheeks heat up at her own boldness; she hadn’t entirely meant to say that last part out loud. 

“It’s another half hour to the police station,” he says, reaching across the console and playing with the hem of her skirt between her knees. 

Scully looks around like someone could be watching, but the road is next to deserted and his hand is hidden well below the window. 

“I don’t know…” she says weakly, but she feels blood rushing to her cunt and she knows she’s already wet. 

“Pull your skirt up,” he says, eyes on the road. His tone is just commanding enough to make her want to comply. 

She tugs her skirt up past the tops of her thigh-high panty hose, exposing the cherry red gusset of her panties. She looks around again, then spreads her legs to make room for his hand. She tells herself that she’s doing it for him. 

Mulder groans when he touches the damp fabric between her legs, and she watches the side of his face as he slips two fingers behind it and gently strokes her slippery lips—the flex of his jaw, the narrowing of his eyes as he forces himself to keep them open. He plays with her clit a little before he finger-fucks her steadily, his breath huffing and his free hand gripped tightly on the steering wheel. He looks at her in short flashes, sometimes her face and sometimes his hand between her legs. She can see the tent of his erection at the front of his slacks and she slumps down a little, curling her hips forward to give him as much access as possible. 

Scully swallows hard and tries to keep her expression neutral and her eyes open. She tries not to look like her partner has one arm slung over the console and his fingers inside her, like she’s not quickly approaching climax. 

Mulder slips his fingers out of her and pushes her panties to the side with three of them while stroking her clit with his index finger. Soft, consistent, concentric circles that lift her higher and higher, making her legs tingle and her mind go blank. 

“I’m coming,” she whispers, and he stuffs his fingers back inside her just as she erupts. 

Scully turns her face toward him, tucking her chin to hide her expression from any onlookers, and comes long and hard around his fingers. 

“Exit’s coming up,” he says, pulling his hand away. 

She sits up quickly, tugging her skirt down and checking her reflection in the visor to be sure she doesn’t give herself away. Her clit is still giving off latent throbs when they pull into the parking lot of the police station. 

Mulder parks and looks over at her, a self-satisfied smirk on his mouth. He takes a sip of tepid coffee from the paper cup he brewed at the motel, then smacks his lips and pops his eyebrows at her. 

“Feeling better?” he asks, and she suppresses the urge to kiss him. 

“Much,” she says casually. “I could go for a cup of coffee, though.”

He laughs, and she smiles, and they go to work like they always do

[midnightmoodlet-art]

https://www.tumblr.com/midnightmoodlet-art/766503128317280256/affogato-may-have-fallen-but-red-velvet-has-the?source=share

Ok hardest question out of curiosity and incase it sparks some art ideas or idk lmao:

Why is red velvet the better husband material? Like I simp hard for both him and affogato but I really wanna hear you out!

Sorry and idk why but this feels like an 'ok, hear me out-' moment lmao!

OKAY so I see a major distinction between the two because it is indeed a "hear me out"

Affogato is more like a "cat" husband whereas Red Velvet is more of a "dog" husband, so their affection styles are completely different from the get go. This isn't where I compare who's better, more like what vibes they give off.

How I see it, it's incredibly difficult to gain affo's affection, and it's like a long term kind of courting that you have to do with him (aka expect a 100k slowburn kind of buildup). In contrast, if you're chill with cakehounds and the cakes in general, you already have half of RV's soul in your hand already.

this is getting long so UTC <3 TLDR: thinking about it more, it depends on your taste in affection styles + they are both intense.

I think it all comes down to how open you want them to be with their affection: ❧ This is incredibly "hear me out" but affo strikes me as someone who would rather keep it private. Like as much as he might give off the impression that he's enjoy flaunting his spouse and flexing (he still does it to cookies he hates), he seems more the kind to have them all to himself. He wants to be the only one to witness the inner machinations, he's just greedy like that. Keep in mind while in public, he's get protective and try to verbally shoo whoever gave him bad vibes all the while placing his hand at the back of his spouse. ❧ RV on the other hand is more nonchalant when it comes to PDA. If his spouse likes to be picked up, well they are never walking again lmao. He'd also be a lot more transparent with his affection, since growing up within the COD gives him limited contact with the average cookie. Would also be a lot more protective and might growl towards others he deems "bad".

There's an important con to take into account with the both of them and it comes down to loyalty: ❧ They are villains after all, so they have specific "quirks" to look out for. ❧ Affo only had himself for the longest time, so there are two ways this can go: either he'll give everything of little importance and leave for "greener pastures", throwing his spouse to the wolves in worst case scenarios, or get completely utterly obsessed, and in turn his "loyalty" turns intense to the point of overbearing (he doesn't want to lose his spouse, the only good thing in all of Earthbread after all). For the former, the spouse might have been seen as a "sacrifice worth doing" to reach whatever new delusional goal he has in mind. So no matter what, obsession dictates his every action and in turn he can get a little intense to say the least. ❧ RV on the other hand, grew up by the Tower of Chaos, so in turn his loyalties lie with Dark Enchantress first and then everything else. He know nothing else so expect him to be absent for long periods deployment-style if his spouse doesn't live by the base. He'd insist they should move in and grumbles when hearing yet another "no". So ultimately, when faced with a choice between his spouse and being with DE, he might choose the latter...

[mysticheathenn]

What Career Path Best Suits You?

Hi, Hexlings!

This pick-a-card reading is for my Patreon Cosmic Stargazers and above. This pick-a-card reading is all about what career path best suits you and what will happen if you follow it.

This is a general reading, remember to take what resonates and leave what does not. This reading does not supplement your need to seek professional help.

Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture that you can’t stop looking at. Listen to your intuition.

Extended Patreon Includes:

What Career Path Best Suits You?

What will happen if you follow the best-suited path?

Extra Messages (Careers that could be of interest)

MasterList

Patreon Link

Ko-Fi Donations

Pile 1:

What Career Path Are You Used To? Tarot: 10 of Swords, 8 of Swords, Strength, The Hermit, King of Pentacles

Pile l you may be used to careers where you feel are a dead end. Some of you could be the type to job hop a lot where whenever you feel you either get bored or you are feeling as if you are not growing or feel appreciated you tend to leave and move onto what you hope is better pastures but end up being something similar to your last job in environment, management, or even the position. It's like an endless cycle you keep repeating that you can't seem to jump off. You may also be the the type of employee where everything is piled on your plate because upper management knows that if they pass things to you things will get done and more. You are most likely that go above and beyond employees, if not beyond you may do a little extra on tasks if you have the time or feel creative to add extra stuff to something. I'm hearing you're the strongest soldier fighting all the battles. You may not complain much about these things because even though your pay isn't the greatest of what it should or can be, it does help provide you with the things you need (shelter, food, etc) and sometimes want (new clothes, trips, etc) Patreon Post Link

Pile ll:

What Career Path Are You Used To? Tarot: 10 of Wands, Death, Queen of Cups, 6 of Wands, Queen of Swords

Unappreciated by Cherish played in my head for your pile. You are used to careers/jobs where you are constantly feeling unappreciated, undermined, emotionally and mentally drained. I hear some people may even take credit for some of the work that you do at work. Overall I feel that your work environment loves to make you the leader of everything without giving you leader money. Example: Before I moved up in management and I was a front desk agent, my colleagues would always come to me as if I was the manager and not the manager themselves because management was either choosing not to be available, not helping, or knowing management doesn't know what they are talking about. Even though I wasn't getting management pay everyone including managers were coming to me for guidance but not giving credit to where it's due. This maybe your current position pile ll or at least environments where you have worked in. Not exactly the same example but examples similar to it. You are also probably used to repetitive jobs where nothing but situations change but everything stays the same so maybe retail, being a waiter, working at a call center, being an assistant, etc. Patreon Post Link

Pile lll:

What Career Path Are You Used To? Tarot: The Moon, 7 of Swords, 4 of Cups (reversed), Knight of Swords (reversed), 5 of Swords (reversed)

Pile lll you may be used to environments that are toxic all around you. Every time you turn around someone is being sneaky, conniving, secretive, moving behind the scenes to either level themselves up, make themselves look good, or plot against other people. You may deal with people who think they are your manager when in fact they are either in the same position as you or a level below you. You may also deal with businesses or corporations who like to cut corners and don't do things the right way. They trick and scam people out of more money or the same money but less quality in items/food. Example: I used to work at a subway where back in the day when the month of February was always $5 deal month our owner would tell us to not give everyone the full amount of meant so he could pinch on supplies. so if you bought a turkey sub instead of getting 8 slices you receive 6 and we had to spread them out to make the sub look full. Overall I am feeling the environment you are used to working is an every person for themselves environment. The "We're a family/team" kind of environment. This is very specific but some of you may even work for Chick-fil-A or corporations similar where they believe in doing things the "traditional" way or even fire people for one small mistake like not saying my pleasure to customers. You may work in fast food, retail, restaurants, warehouses like Amazon, Corporate, bank jobs, etc overall I am getting minimum wage or slightly above the jobs you may be used to. Patreon Post Link

Thank you for liking and reblogging my readings. I always appreciate you guys on here and on Patreon.

Stay safe and be blessed

[annepsilvaauthor]

Begin Again - Lee Dutton

Pairing: Lee Dutton x OC (Natalie WentWorth)

Summary: The life of renowned lawyer Natalie WentWorth was quiet in Boston, but everything changed when she received a call from a former Harvard colleague, Jamie Dutton. After reflecting a lot, Natalie agreed to solve some problems at the Yellowstone Dutton Ranch, but she did not imagine that her life would change completely when she arrived in Montana. One of the reasons for this change was Lee Dutton, the eldest son of John Dutton, cowboy and livestock agent, who would represent all the comfort she needed to have in the midst of the chaos of the Dutton family. Natalie could begin again at that ranch.

Warnings: Subtle sexual innuendos, brief language, alcohol consumption, angst, smut, fluffy.

Fix the law after you break it

A few more kilometers and she would finally arrive in Yellowstone. Her Volvo XC40 exceeded the thousands of miles at a speed fast enough to make a journey of thirty-six hours of travel in less than thirty hours. Yes, she liked speed. It was one of the few things she allowed herself to "lose control". Her life experience and her profession had taught her to take care of her own control. If anyone would lose their mind, it would be the other side and not her.

She looked at the folder on the bank next to her. There was her name engraved on it: Miss Natalie WentWorth. She smiled proudly. She had not chosen the law, the law had chosen her. And her last civil hearing had proved it.

Natalie's thoughts were interrupted when she observed a movement a few kilometers ahead. There were men mounted on horses, armed, wearing bulletproof vests, on one side of the fence, and other men without any armament, but with unfriendly expression were on the other side of the fence. Natalie reduced her speed and a lawyer's sense of curiosity did not allow her to move forward, stopping on the shoulder.

Looking more closely, she realized that the men on the other side of the fence were indeed armed, some police officers and other civilians. She also noticed that there was a huge herd of cows on the side of the fence and she soon considered a problem. Natalie got out of the car and put her high heels on the dirt floor, something she wasn't used to.

"You should move on, ma'am. The thing here will soon be very bad." One of the cowboys warned her by jogging next to her.

"What's going on?" She asked ignoring his request.

"What happens every day here in Yellowstone: big dog fight." The cowboy waved his hat and trotted towards the discussion that was forming.

Natalie noted that the fence was free of barbed wire, so it would not be very difficult for cattle to go from one place to another. However, she doubted that the cowboys of that ranch had left the fence like that, just as it would be almost impossible for the cattle to take a different direction from what they took every day, unless someone attracted them with food. She got closer to the scene and noticed the remains of hay on the other side. Wow, a crime scene right on her first day in Montana.

"Madam, I'll ask you to leave, please." A serious and deep voice echoed behind her and she turned around. One of the men in the bulletproof vest was in front of her and at that distance she could read Livestock Agent on his chest. He carried a powerful rifle between his hands.

"As far as I know, the road is public." She responded without being able to see him right, because the strong light of the sun prevented her.

"This one is not. It belongs to the Reservation."

"Well, then they should take me out of here and not you...agent." Natalie replied pointing to the police and heard a low laugh coming from him. "Besides, I'm much more helpful here."

"I doubt that."

"OK, agent. I can tell what I know to the police officers of the Reservation and so they can win this fight." Natalie crossed the fence and walked a few steps on the pasture, but his voice came up again.

"I could get you out of there with little effort, ma'am!"

"Try it! Let's see what happens to you after that."

Natalie turned her back on the agent and approached the Indians of the Reservation, but seconds later a heated argument began. One of the Indians insulted one of the cowboys and he crossed the fence to attack him, but the Indian quickly knocked him out on the ground. The scene was transformed without Natalie being able to keep up. The police officers lifted their weapons, as well as the cowboys on the other side, but soon the agent came up with the rifle and threatened the Indian with his barrel on his head.

"Whatever happens next happens to you first." The agent threatened in a loud and deep voice.

"Son of a bitch." The Indian released the cowboy under his hands and faced the agent with danger in his eyes.

Tensions were stifled with the arrival of a helicopter on land. Natalie managed to read Yellowstone Dutton Ranch in the helicopter body and smiled playfully. What an unusual way to meet the boss. He got off the vehicle dressed as the good landowner he was, with simple clothes and a hat. The livestock agent went to meet him and exchanged some words that Natalie could not hear due to the distance and noise of the helicopter propellers.

The two men approached the fence and John exchanged glances with Natalie, surprised by her presence there, but he had more urgent matters to deal with than to know why a white woman dressed in a white satin blouse, navy blue pencil skirt and high heels was on the other side of the fence. She soon found out that she was on the wrong side of that fight, so she walked slowly towards the track, and she had difficulty walking due to her high heels sinking into the grass.

"This is a tribal issue, John. Livestock commission's got no authority here." One of the police officers informed John with caution.

"Those look like livestock to me." He pointed to the cattle on the other side of the fence and kept walking.

"The Chief's at Commencement, but I'm calling the shots."

"I'm impressed you said that with a straight face, Ben." John mocked with a smile and continued walking on the tribal ground until he approached a gentleman sitting on the hood of the truck that was among the cattle.

"If you know anything, it's better to say it now. Things won't be more friendly between us and them for much longer." The agent approached Natalie again and she remained looking at John's back, wishing to hear what he said, but it was too far away.

"If I say what I know, I lose the letter in the sleeve I have, don't you think?"

"Look, ma'am, I don't know where you come from, but here in Montana we solve the problems in two ways: either we follow the law, or we break it." The agent responded politely after a brief pause, as if he were thinking about what he should say. She liked it, he didn't want to push her away, he thought she was important enough to try to insist on the subject.

"I come from Boston...and from what I see now, you will need a good lawyer."

"I don't think we'll win this fight through laws, ma'am."

"You really won't go, so you'll need a lawyer: to fix the law after you break it. I have my card in the car, if you want."

The agent smiled openly, showing his white and big teeth. Very perfect for a cowboy and livestock agent, she thought. Either he spent all the money on dental appointments or...

"Lee Dutton." He supported the rifle in one hand and offered her the other. "Can I know your name, Madam from Boston?"

"Natalie WentWorth." She accepted his greeting and had her small hand engulfed by his big hand, tanned and full of calluses in a strong but gentle grip. "Don't worry, I'm on this side of the fence."

He just kept smiling and Natalie could watch him at that moment, since he covered the sunlight from her face. Lee was tall, although any man taller than one meter and seventy was taller than her, he wore a cream hat that covered most of his hair, and he wore a grown beard, blonde, and looked well cared for. And there was that smile that besides being beautiful, was cheerful. How could he be happy in that situation? She didn't know, but she was curious.

"Lee!" John Dutton's voice sounded authoritarian when he crossed the fence. "Clear everyone out."

"You know, there was barbed wire on this fence a week ago." Lee explained to his father.

"I know. Clear them out."

"Alright! Move on!"

While Lee gathered his men, Natalie hurried the step to accompany John Dutton, but her high heels did not help, so she removed them.

"Mr. Dutton! Mr... Dutton!" She called feeling her feet pincing due to the tall grass. After a few seconds, he stopped and waited for her to approach.

"It wasn't a good choice to wear these shoes today, ma'am." John mocked with a smile as he observed the high heels in Natalie's hands.

"I'm a newcomer to Montana, sir. I can get used to it." She put on her shoes and extended a hand to him. "My name is Natalie WentWorth. Your son Jamie told me that you were in need of help."

"All the help I need is in my house, ma'am. I don't need another lawyer." John seriously informed without accepting her hand.

"But I came here from Boston. Jamie told me that..."

"I don't know what Jamie wanted with you, miss, but it certainly has nothing to do with me or my ranch." He stared at her in a mixture of pity and anger. "If you want, we can take you back in the helicopter."

"I've been driving, sir."

"I'm sorry for what Jamie made you go through. I hope you have a good trip back." John put his sunglasses on his face and walked away from her with slow steps towards the helicopter.

Natalie was planted in the same place for so long that the police officers of the reserve had left, as well as the tribals and most of the cowboys. She couldn't believe that. After all the effort to get there, after thinking long before getting close to cowboys again, she was rejected. Natalie didn't know who else she was angry with, if it was Jamie, Mr. Dutton or herself.

"Miss WentWorth, is everything okay?" Lee appeared next to her and she had to control herself so as not to shrook another Dutton next to her.

"It'll be." She started walking again and heard his steps following her. She rolled her eyes and growled softly. "Go back to your work, Mr. Dutton. You're going to need a lot of work."

"What do you mean? Hey, wait!"

Natalie was already used to walking with high heels on the grass and was already approaching her car on the side of the side. However, to her misfortune, one Dutton was determined to leave her away while the other did not leave her alone.

"What did you mean?" He put himself between her and the driver's door.

"I need to go now, Mr. Dutton. Can I get in my own car?" She asked impatiently, but Lee remained in the same place.

"Only answer the question." Lee asked kindly, but Natalie was too angry to notice.

"I am not obliged by law to answer anything. And if you don't get out of the front of my fucking car now, I'll sue you for so many things that you'll never have a penny in your cowboy pants again." She threatened him fervently and Lee took a few seconds thinking to then clear the way. "Thank you, Agent."

"Aren't you going to give me your card?" He asked at the window when she got in the car.

"It will no longer be necessary."

Natalie started the gear and started the car, causing the tire to leave stains on the asphalt.