#The Life of a Farmer Woman

[arunparia]

Bride, 1970

A new bride has come, the palanquin has left.  Those who’ve come late — the old viewers: grim. Brittle-finger mothers measure the skin of the girl. Her ornaments’ weight. Hair. Teeth. The onlookers grow. This new girl’s laugh — Tell me, tell me, ma, will she be tame?

Will she not blind our boy (for how long they themselves could)? But a new girl shall possess new new tricks! Carrying paddy from the paddy fields to the paddy pots, pots to the oven. Oven to the mill. The animals of the flower-bed night bathe  the cattle, feed the cattle, smell of cow urine.

Love. Who calls its obtuse name? The clarinet calls. At the midnight play, Majnun bawls. The girl, too, weeps with him.  Till her man appears. To bring her — to bed. Till the birds cackle, the sun appears. The girl wakes up to sweep  the floor for another ten years.  Now when the cowshed is clean, her daughter goes there to read.

(The poem was first published in the May 2023 issue of Poetry India: https://www.ethosliterary.org/poetry-india/may-2023-issue/poems-by-arun-paria)

[angoragoats]

What’s in the bag you ask?

My kid of course!!!

[hood-ex]

Nothing better than being in a creative space with women where everyone is looking at each other's work like, "Oh my god that looks sooo good!" Everyone's just handing out praises like candy, and it's such a nice vibe.

[rawestrarityfairy]

Rainy rising farmers market

[the-busy-ghost]

Me normally: Let people love what they love

Me, after a Test Match Special commentator expresses their belief that the new All Creatures Great and Small is somehow "better" than the 1978 version: This is pure insanity and TMS can no longer be trusted on anything, how can they even be trusted to know about cricket, do they have no TASTE

[lifepath25]

[bound-and-bruised-boy]

[libraford]

Today I was helping run the booth for the local queer non-profit at the farmer's market and a woman told me that she would like a flag, pointing to our little bucket of flags. So I picked up the bucket and I brought it over and asked her which one she'd like.

"Well, tell me about them!"

"Oh! Okay! This one is the inclusion flag- its for everyone, including allies."

"What's this one?"

"That's the bisexual flag: it represents people who are attracted to two or more genders."

"Hmm... what about this one?"

"That's the nonbinary flag: it represents people whose gender isn't strictly 'male or female.'"

"Hmm... what's this purple one?"

"That's the asexual flag: it represents people who may not feel sexual attraction the way that others do."

She put her hand to her chest and got this really curious look on her face. "Tell me more about that!"

"Oh, happy to! So like if you're out with your bestie and someone real fine walks by and she's like 'omg look at him' and you're like 'girl get a grip?' Or like you just don't get what the 'big deal' is about sex or why everyone is so weird about it? But there's also room for like- you don't fall in love with the way someone looks, you're attracted to the person- their sense of humor and their kindness, or there's something about their personality that just makes it click for you? That's asexuality, too!"

And she got real quiet and seemed to think about it for a minute. So I grabbed our little informational sheet about different queer identities and handed her a copy. "If you want to do some research, this is probably a great place to start."

She thanked me and took an ace flag, stuck it in her hair.

Sometimes when you're online all the time, its easy to think that 'everyone knows about (topic), there's no reason to keep talking about it so much.' But while the people on the internet are real people, the internet ISN'T real life. And there are lots of people who do need to know that they do have community!

One of the jokes is that I'm a lot of people's 'patient zero' for discovering that they're queer. This is why.

[moe-broey]

I am...... getting A Little nostalgic for Stardew Valley........ but I know it is SUCH a commitment like if I get back into that shit I'm blacking out for a month. I Cannot Allow It

[the-melancholic-human]

I am in love with the thought of simon riley being a grumpy snobby nobleman who marries a boorish reckless girl that’s just a ray of sunshine

Simon views marriage as a way to protect his legacy, a way to carry out his high esteem bloodline, he views marriage as a financial decision, after all he’s in his late thirties now and he’s not getting any younger, a few silver strands of hair that decorate his dirty-blonde hair prove that fact

As much as he hates the thought of tolerating a woman who will stick to him for the rest of his life like an unwanted disease, he knows that it’s for the best, he needs heirs to protect his fortune after his death

And so he needs to find a wife as soon as possible, he can not marry a woman from a noble family, from what he has seen so far, noble women are more demanding, they’re constantly in need for attention and because they are used to living lavish lives they tend to be careless with money, he knows that if he marries a noble woman her family would constantly ask to visit her and that means even more unnecessary social events simon must attend, and so he has to search elsewhere for a wife

But he has a plan, instead of going for a woman with high status, he’ll just marry one of the girls that live in the village, and wouldn’t you know it, one of his farmers was more than glad to marry off his daughter to the duke for some quick cash

And a week later, the girl is standing on the porch of his manor holding her suitcase, looking like a lost puppy, fidgeting with the hem of her skirt nervously as she’s waiting for someone to invite her into her new home

Instead of her husband opening the door to her, kissing her cheeks and giving her a warm hug, there’s the mean old lady that does the cooking for the riley manor, standing in front of her in the doorway

And as soon as the poor girl drops off her old ugly suitcase at her bedroom (and simon’s bedroom ofc) she’s running barefoot in the garden to catch a lizard

Now picture this, simon jumps off his stallion in the evening, waiting for his new “wife” to come greet him when he hears screams from the garden, so he runs to the garden to make sure everything is okay, and the scene before him is just unbelievably peculiar:

A young beautiful girl, running around the garden, her underskirt shoved into her belt, her feet covered in mud, and her hair an absolute mess, chasing the old maid with a lizard in her tiny soft hands

And when she runs up to simon, holding up the slimy creature to show it to her new husband, simon is just fucking in love.

Part 2 is here btw:

[froody]

Women throughout (American and English) history worked. The idea that in the past the sole responsibility of women was domestic labor and childrearing is largely inaccurate for the majority of women in these societies. Women were expected to do domestic labor like cooking and cleaning and raising children AND work to bring income to their family, this was true for the average woman, excluding the upper middle class/wealthy. If a woman’s husband owned a tavern or restaurant, she also cooked and kept bar and did the duties associated with the business. If a woman’s husband was a (small scale/subsistence/tenant) farmer, the woman did farm labor. Often a woman was expected to do labor related to her husband’s job.

Women also had vocations and forms of income unrelated to their husband. The nature of these jobs changed over time but many women did things like weaving, embroidery, crafting, beer brewing, chicken tending and laundress work to bring income. Women with skills were seen as better marriage candidates because they’d make money for their husband.

My great-great-great-great grandmother told fortunes and did farm labor, my great-great-great grandmother was a midwife, my great-great grandmother worked in a textile factory for most of her adult life and my great grandmother was a school lunch lady.

This is why it makes me irate when women on the right say things like “feminism forced me to get a job instead of being allowed to stay home with my children” before feminism you would have had to tend house, raise your children and bring income to your husband. Now, at the very least, the money is hopefully your own. Women were always in the workforce, their work was not recognized.

[d3stinyist1red]

Yandere town?? Live convenience store cashier or mall owner or police officer and paramedics or anything both platonic and romantic like the elders try to get reader married to their children etc

YASSS QUEEN 😛😛😛

Yan town who literally is obsessed with everything you do, like u could be drinking water and they'll praise you for drinking it

Yan town who literally has the biggest fanclub of you, they exchange pictures, and items that used to belong to you

Yan convenience store cashier who literally has the sluttiest clothes in his bag just in case you come in

Yan police officer that gets called everytime you try burning the town down, biting his lip while saying "N/n, your being a very naughty girl!~" He playfully slaps,and runs his fingers up and down on your arm.

Yan medic who is lowkey a baddie, litteraly whenever he hears that you have a cut, he puts on the most lil skirt possible, and literally brings out things that nurses would only use if your on fucking life support, acting as if your gonna die just because of a tiny ass cut

yan platonic elderly woman who begs you to marry her son. Her son was very attractive and rich, waving at you shyly as he thinks about the ways you could stroke and suck him off

Yan business man who tries to get you to be his secretary, begging you on his knees and shit. He literally kisses your feet anytime he is in a 5 mile radius of u

Yan farmer who literally is pushing 20 and acting like a middle school boy who barely hit puberty, humping at your shoe and everything. He gives you free fruits tho! Though, he does try to trade with you. Your panties for the fruits of course!

Yan cowboy who let you ride him and save his horse. He literally tells you to get on his horse with him, your in front of him as he guides the horse, his front leaning against your back. He tries to hide his huge boner, and how he's slowly thrusting it against you.

Yan loser who no one likes💀 if ur the angel of the town, he's the devil. He's a total weirdo, whenever he sees you, his hands immediately go for his pants, trying to patt his dick down. "H-hey, do you wa-wanna help me wit-with mini me?"

Yan platonic unc who tries to get you to go on a blind date with his niece. You finally went, and his niece was down bad for u. His niece wouldn't even eat his food, staring at you the whole time with heart eyes, and giggling at you

Yan old man who lets you be his sugar baby. You don't even do anything, all you have to do is sit there and look pretty, and he will give you the money. Very cutesy very demure

[thebluester2020]

Blue... Blue.... Alex and the squirting farmer did something.... Can i ask for the other male's reactions to that :3 pwease

SDV Bachelors x Farmer Who Squirts

Summary: How the bachelors react to a farmer who squirts for the first time. Warning(s): S M U T, Sam being a bit of a horndog / perv, Munch Elliot and Sebastion (it's my favorite headcanons of them and I'm dying on that hill), Shane being a bit of a dom, Harvey being a slight sub. Side note(s): I love it when y'all have big-brained ideas 💙

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Elliot

Oddly confident?

I imagine he has a diverse collection of books. Erotica is definitely on his bookshelf somewhere so mentions of a girl (or guy) squirting aren't uncommon to him. In his mind? You squirting is a sign that he's doing something good and he would take pride in it.

So follow the vision, the two of you have been dating for a while and you finally work up the nerve to stay over at his cabin for the night just to spend some more time with him, as well as hear the waves at night.

One moment Elliot was reading to you, steadily getting to a particular spicy scene in the novel, and the next?

His head was in between your thighs slurping and sucking at your clit.

♡ - In the silence of Elliot's cabin, lewd squelching and feverous moaning could be heard.

What started as a simple visit. Elliot had sent you a letter that he had received a new book in the mail and wished to read it with you, a simple and impromptu date night that steadily turned more sensual as your lover continued to read.

Mentions of the woman in the novel being touched by her lover...his fingers slowly trailing up her legs until they reached her twitching sex before the man's fingers teased her folds, whispering sweet nothings into her ear as he fingered her to orgasm. You hadn't realized you were panting like a bitch in heat until Elliot teasingly mentioned the redness in your cheeks, questioning if you wanted to recreate the scene.

You couldn't imagine a scenario where you said no.

"Ah~! Elliot, oh fuck..." You moaned, your hands gripping onto Elliot's hair for dear life as he sucked and kissed at your clit, hums of appreciation escaping his glistening lips as his fingers teased your entrance.

Alone, his tongue proved his skill in pleasuring you. The whispered words of his love told to none other than your pussy as if it were capable of talking back to him, but, you oh so desperately wanted him to touch and scratch that itch inside of you. "You're twitching so much my love..." Elliot said, pressing one more kiss to your bud before he kissed up your thigh until he reached your calf.

"Elliot..." You whispered, teary-eyed and begging much to his amusement.

He leaned forward with a smirk, caging you in with his body as his free hand traveled back down to your pussy. "Yes~?" He smirked.

"N-Need you..."

"You already have me dear, what more can I give you."

Your blush only increased as your eyes looked away from his from both embarrassment and to gesture to the hand that was touching you everywhere but where you needed your lover the most. "T-There..."

"Your pussy? Aren't I already doing that?"

You pouted. "N-Need you...inside..." When his brown rose with that slow rising smile of his, your sex-dazed brain quickly remembered its manners as you whispered a shy 'Please' to him. And, without further convincing, Elliot's fingers plunged into your pussy, tearing a moan from the confines of your throat as your hands gripped the pillow behind you.

Elliot pressed sensual kisses all over your face, eventually focusing on nipping the shell of your ear as he felt your sex begin to clamp around your fingers. Your hands eventually left the pillow and moved to wrap around Elliot's neck as your moans suddenly increased in volume and frequency. "E-Elliot!" You keened. "S Something...oh fuck! C-Cumming!"

Without warning, there was a gushing noise, Elliot's attention swiping from your face to your sex before his eyes widened at the sight of a clear liquid spurting from your pussy and your legs shaking ferociously. His mouth fell open at the arousing sight, his cock twitching in its confines at the gorgeous sight before he looked back to you.

Your eyes were unfocused and cloudy, unshed tears brimming the edges of your eyes as your chest heaved up and down.

"My love..." He whispered. "Care to give me such a show again~?"

Sebastion

Flustered (his cock literally gets as hard as a diamond)

I like to believe that Sebastion is a virgin but he isn't stupid.

He knows of people being able to squirt, but he doesn't have experience due to him being a shut-in and never being intimate with anyone. When the two of you started dating though, his mind shifted as y'all got more handsy with one another.

The feeling of you cumming around his cock, the taste of your pussy. It all drove him nuts and eventually awakened something in him that screamed "Can they do more?".

And one night, when his family was out and you and him were getting hot n' heavy in his bedroom. Your body tucked into Sebastion's front as he looked over your shoulder as he fingered your lewd pussy, he got his answer.

♡ - He couldn't tear his eyes away from you.

And by "you", he meant your pussy that was clamping so tightly over his fingers if it feared of letting go of him! Such a lewd sight was a rarity- nay, an impossible scene for him to fathom for a shut-in like himself unless he watched porn or used his imagination. Of course, this was all before he got to know you.

Now? As you whined and moaned so prettily for him, your arms looped around his head in a subconscious way of trying to ground yourself while you practically fucked yourself on his fingers...his cheeks were so red that he felt as if he were on fire, he hadn't the slightest clue how he hadn't cum in his pants yet.

Sebastion pressed a sensual kiss to the corner of your lips. "You're so pretty Y/N...y'know that?" Sebastion whispered before his eyes went back to the scene before him as his fingers steadily grew more and more coated with your slick.

However, it was when a keen escaped your lips that he knew there was something different about the way your pussy twitched around his fingers then. How your hand raced to try and stop his hand and you began to whisper and beg for a break.

"Huh?" He said almost like a confused puppy. "You've never asked for a break before..." Cruelly, the thrusts of his fingers sped up as a smile cracked onto his flustered features at the sound of your moans increasing in volume.

"S-Sebby...!" You whined as your legs started to thrash and your cunt got sloppier, wetness started to coat his hand more and more as Sebastion's eyes were glued to the unfolding scene before him.

Yet before even he had a chance to predict what might happen, his hand was soon coated with the warmth of your gushing juices. His eyes widened in both shock and arousal as your legs shook and seized, the very scene stealing the very breath from his lungs as he struggled to not cum in his pants and save his load for when he was fucking you.

"Yoba..." He whispered as he brought his hand up to his face.

"Sorry..." You whispered, barely even coherent as you tried to will the energy to look at him.

He scoffed as he licked your slick off from his fingers. "Sorry?" He scoffed.

"Don't be~ let's do that again, but on my cock this time."

Sam

Excited (my favorite lil' perv)

I'm going to stick to my own personal theme of Sam being a bit fo a pervert and say that you squirting has been on his mind for a while now, along with the other nasty ideas floating around inside his head.

Some nights, when he's fisting his cock to the thought of you in a sundress or that time when he visited your farm and found you bent over to pick something up. He'd think about the 'What if?' moments of where he's behind you.

Beads of sweat dripping down your skin from the summer heat as he plunged into you repeatedly, his hand coming down to rub circles onto your clit as he got drunk off of your moans and begs for release.

Up until, much to his surprise, he felt a wetness splash onto him and drip down his thighs, your thighs quivering as he had to hold you up to keep you from collapsing.

Poor you, now you had to go at least three more rounds with him!

♡ - A pornographic moan escaped his lips when you squirted for the first time.

As sweat dripped from Sam's forehead as his cock dragged against your warm walls, he couldn't help the delirious moans that left his kiss-swollen lips. Almost as if he were the one who just squirted and not you. "B-Babe?" He said, lazily wiping the sweat from his eyes with the back of his arm before he leaned forward. "Can you do that again...? Fuck...you have to do that again" He begged, needy whines leaving his lisp as his thrusts picked up speed with a fervor more ardent than moments previously.

He couldn't even begin to explain how long he'd been waiting for this moment!

Since the first time he slipped into your pussy all those months ago!

When his imagination finally became reality.

From then on, he felt like a dog in heat. From a brief whiff of your perfume, to those rare-spotted moments where you bended forward in front of him. Your pussy was far too addicting for him to let go so easily, his aching cock always hard and at attention when he was around you as the thoughts of what he wanted to do next, what he wanted to experience next with you plagued his every waking thought!

But...now that he's seen you squirt? All the times he's had sex with you prior seemed to pale in comparison as the memory replayed again and again in his mind.

"S-Sam...!" You gasped. "S-Slow down- Ah!"

He pouted. "I can't..." He whined in your ear. "I just can't, fuuuuckkk, your pussy feels too good." He said, watery blue orbs looking into yours as a dopey grin slowly crawled its way onto his blushing features.

"You'll squirt on my dick again, right Y/N? Oh pleaassee say that you will..." To accentuate his begging, the side of his face dug into the valley between your bouncing breasts as he moaned at the feeling of your pussy clamping down on his dick and the sound of your fucked-dumb pleas of 'More' or 'Go faster' rang in his ears.

"Don't worry Y/N..." Sam chuckled as his grip on your love handles tightened to the point you knew in the back of your head that you'd have some bruises there in the morning, his balls slapping against your sex echoing throughout his room. "I'll make sure that you feel really good."

Harvey

Similar to Sebastion, he's flustered but like way more.

You were taking control for the night and were fucking yourself onto his dick. Yet, the deeper angle pressed into a delicious ache inside of your cunt and caused you to become a little more...greedier than you typically were.

To the point, you were unconsciously overstimulating your poor lover as he was too fucked-dumb to even still you how you were fucking him too good. How, like yourself, were beginning to feel strange as his balls tightened up at his oncoming unexpected release.

But by the time you got off his cock, that last feeling of friction suddenly made him squirt just as, if not more than you had.

He was squirting allllll over his stomach.

♡ - When you squirted on Harvey's dick, your warm wetness splashing against his thighs as you threw your head back to let out a keen of sheer ecstasy. He felt like he was in pure heaven.

Yet as you slowly came down from your high, the aftershocks from your orgasm still washing over you as your pussy clenched and unclenched around Harvey's cock. When your gaze finally settled back onto your lover, you could've sworn you saw hearts start to appear in Harvey's eyes as you steadily began to roll your hips on his still-hard cock.

"Harvey?" You spoke breathily. "You okay?"

He was more than fine.

But, it took a long minute for the doctor to express that as he lazily looked up at you as if you hung the very moon and stars just for him. After all, he was far too focused on how your hips were rubbing against him oh so perfectly. How your sloppy pussy was so warm and so tight even after the countless times that the both of you had been together...so much so that he was slipping further and further into the fogginess that his pleasure-ridden brain provided.

"Harveeyyy~" You said his name like a siren as you caressed his cheek. "Feelin' good?" You purred, giggling when Harvey answered honestly with an eager nod and an 'Uh huh'.

At his honesty, you began to speed up your hip rolls, a choked-up whine just barely escaping Harvey's throat as his grip upon your hips tightened as he ground up into you in search of more friction. Yet, you knew your lover, although he was more vocal than your previous partners. This time? He was a lot more vocal than he typically was (not that you were complaining).

You almost wanted to be concerned.

But the sight of Harvey's eyes starting to roll into the back of his head?

It was far too delectable for you to give up on.

"So cute f' me baby~" You praised as you pressed your hands onto Harvey's chest, your hips falling and rising more rapidly onto your lover as more and more unashamed moans left his lips. "You should be this shameless more often." You giggled.

"I love how shy you are but I think I like this side of you a lot more." You giggled before you quickly snapped back to Harvey's face as his moans and occasional whines began to increase in pitch.

"Oh....shit, Y/N. H-Honey, I feel weird...please don't stop!"

"I think something- Oh fuck, d-don't stop...!"

"Yoba! Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-"

Quickly, you dismounted your lover before finishing him off with your hands, wanting to see the amount of his spend before you were met with the unexpected scene of him squirting. The white liquid sprayed all over his stomach and just underneath his chest as Harvey's screamed to the point you feared he'd wake your animals. Your eyes were as wide as saucers, yet...as your gasping lover struggled to catch his breath.

A part of you begged to see him do it again.

Shane

RIP to your pussy

He's definitely fucking you harder after that little display.

But how he reacts in other ways definitely depends on the location. If you two are having sex at your place? I like to imagine that he'll get really kinky with it and try to make you scream as loud as possible, making sure that everyone within a ten-minute radius of your farmstead knows who made you squirt.

If you're fucking at Marnie's house, however? That'll be the time you find out just how good (and sexy) slow sex with Shane can be.

Ultimately though, when you squirt, Shane is in the business of making sure that you continue the party alllllll night long until he's satisfied or you passed out.

♡ - Ohohoho...he's been waiting for this moment since the second he had access to your tight little cunt.

"Shit farmer...didn't know you could squirt~" Shane groaned as he pressed a hand into the middle of your back, forcing you to arch even more as he drilled his cock further into your sloppy cunt. "How many other secrets are you holdin' out on me, eh?" He continued to interrogate you even though he fully understood you were incapable of answering in a complete sentence, much less uttering a single word aside from the breathless moans that escaped your hoarse mouth.

Yet as the local drunk fucked pussy, his full balls slapping against your cunt as the noises filled your otherwise quiet bedroom.

He couldn't help but remember the fact that he used to be so rude to you before he actually stopped and got to know you.

Suddenly, your face appeared in the forefront of his mind and as he became more drunk off how your walls squeezed his cock, the enveloping warmth began to make his hips stutter as he felt his release close in on him. All he could think about was making you his cute little farmer wife.

The two of you could raise allll the chickens you wanted.

But most importantly? And the most special little bonus that he and only he would get unlike the other people in this town who possibly had a crush on you? He'd have 24/7 access to your squirting little cunt, your moans that shamelessly told him to keep going despite your overstimulation.

He uttered out a guttural 'Fuck' at the idea. "Fuck pretty...we should get married after this, huh?" He smirked. "Ain't no way I'm losing this tight pussy, especially after figuring out what you can do tonight."

[charliemwrites]

Part 2!

Finally finished moving house so hopefully I’ll be updating semi-regularly again.

Content: brief and non-descriptive explanation of Rasputin’s backstory (injury and illness)

Agatha is over again.

You don’t know why. She doesn’t like you, your cats, or anything as far as you can tell. It seems her primary motivation for talking to you at all is to exercise her role as neighborhood matriarch. She “keeps tabs” on everyone, but especially you - the unmarried woman living alone that keeps odd hours.

A rebellious part of you wants to roll your eyes and make snarky comments whenever she sniffs at your life choices. The same part of you that would make scenes at holiday dinners or slam doors when you were a teenager. That girl has long been smoothed and polished - or maybe just worn down. It’s so much effort to make rude, nosy, traditionalists clutch their pearls. Much easier to smile in their face and do what you want anyway.

Still, that part of you itches at the surface sometimes. Makes your eye twitch.

“I know your generation is different but that’s just not the type of neighborhood we live in,” she’s saying.

You’re a bit foggy from a late night patching plotholes and haven’t registered much of anything she’s said. You really just want to go inside and stare at the TV until words make sense again.

“What do you mean?” you ask, for once not feigning your confusion. But of course this is the one time she doesn’t buy it.

She looks down her frail little nose at you, cornflower blue eyes baleful. You don’t feel scolded, but you sense that you’re supposed to.

“Now you know just what I mean. People will talk.”

People always talk, it’s an unfortunate byproduct of the human condition. Like a deaf bird, you’ve never understood all the chatter.

“Talk about… the buttercups?” you wonder, pointing at the blossoms. You’re quite proud of them actually.

Agatha puffs up and hisses out a breath. “You ought to keep to this side of the street. Away from those men.”

You blink. Men…?

A bang comes from across the street, followed by rough German cursing. (At least you think it’s cursing.)

Ah. Those men.

“I was just welcoming them to the neighborhood.”

It comes out of your mouth automatically, innocent excuses for something you remind yourself you don’t need to justify.

“I’d rather they didn’t feel welcome,” she snips. “Better they sell that awful house and go somewhere else.”

You flick your eyes over her bony shoulder. Konig passes by a window, massive biceps on display as he lifts something outside of view.

“They’re nice,” you say. Nice to look at. Krueger’s face alone quite makes up for his conversational shortcomings.

“The only reason men like that act nice is because they want something,” Agatha snaps. “This is a respectable neighborhood.”

Yeah, soooo respectable when Bertram rifles through your mail or Lisa looks into your backyard.

“Well,” you muse, “better to be on good terms with them, I think. They're not the type you want to piss off.”

That defiant streak lights up at the way her face sours. If only she knew what sort of words you use when it’s just you and the cats.

“You’ve just proven my point. Those are not the type of men young ladies should associating themselves with.”

You have to try very hard not to scrunch up your face. One blessed day, people will stop referring to you as “young lady” in that insufferably condescending tone. You can’t wait for that day.

Some of your mounting irritation must show on your face because she takes on a sickly sweet “teaching” tone.

“Neighborhoods are like gardens. Everything grows best when the rows are kept separate. That’s why the farmers plant them that way.”

You glance pointedly at your own yard, where the flowers are blooming in haphazard sprigs wherever you tossed the seeds. Agatha’s lips get thin.

“Best that you stay on this side of the street, missy. That’s the last I’ll hear of it.”

She spins on her heel and stalks off like a particularly drab bird. You stand on your porch for a second longer, face contorted in annoyed confusion. You don’t even have strong feelings about the three men; the simple act of someone - Agatha of all people - labeling them as “Off Limits” makes them instantly more appealing.

Maybe you should see someone about that or something. Then the pathetic cries of Guy through the window lure you back inside.

It’s nearly sundown when there’s a knock at your door. Still agitated from your talk with Agatha, you puff up like Shithead when Rasputin sits on her favorite toy. March up to the door, fling it open - and come up short when you see the three men looming on your doorstep.

Before you can recover, a little gray blob scrambles past your ankles, crying like the sky is falling.

“Oh!” Konig gasps in pleasant surprise. “Hallo, Bubchen!”

And all 6-foot-plus of Austrian instantly folds to scoop Guy up. You’ve barely managed a now-useless shout of alarm when Shithead wedges her fat head between your calves. Behind you, Rasputin politely screeches his little chainsmoker call.

And somehow, in the chaos of fumbling for furballs, you end up with all three men in your foyer.

Guy is purring away in Konig’s thick arms. Shithead is attempting to scale Krueger’s tight cargo pants. And Rasputin is pawing the air at Nikto, visibly calculating the jump to his wide shoulders.

Which leaves you with the clean serving platter you dropped off just yesterday. You blink at it for a moment, then glance at them.

“So… the cookies were good then?”

“Very good!” Konig rushes to say. Krueger and Nikto each nod, almost comically solemn.

“We have no baking or cooking skills,” Krueger continues, “so tell us what needs fixing.”

It takes you a moment to understand what he means. The house. He wants to fix your house. It’s surprisingly sweet, and you laugh a bit, shaking your head. “You don’t need to do that, I was just-“

“Is custom,” Nikto interrupts.

Konig nods with all the enthusiasm of a bobblehead as Krueger crosses his arms. (Whatever effect he’s going for is ruined by Shithead clinging to his pocket and screaming.)

“In our country, we bring gifts as guests. Our gift is repairs,” he explains.

You arch your brows playfully. “I don’t remember inviting you to be guests.”

He arches his brows right back. “We did not invite you either.”

Well shit.

“Okay, okay. I guess there’s a couple things…”

Konig perks up. “We would be happy to help, Biene!”

It’s strange having men in the house. You think you should be more nervous about it, can’t remember the last non-family man allowed into your space. Especially alone.

There’s a sharp awareness, of course. Hard not to be aware of them. It’s not just that they’re big, dwarfing all of your you-sized furniture. There’s a presence to them, something felt but not seen by your untrained eye. Maybe it’s in the set of their shoulders, the way they stand with both boots firmly planted. Maybe it’s the precise way they speak and move, not just separately but as a unit. Acting more like a collective consciousness than as individuals.

Whatever it is, you couldn’t ignore them if you tried. And you’re definitely not trying.

You set Krueger to work on the kitchen cabinet you’ve been meaning to replace. He clicks his tongue at the tape-and-lean method you’ve been using to keep the old one in place. Shithead immediately sets to work helping by gnawing at his shoelaces.

Konig is stationed in the guest bathroom, where the sink doesn’t run right. Guy comes mewing into your arms when he’s set down, effectively tattling that his new friend is mean and awful for withholding affection for even a moment.

You try not to visibly hesitate when you corner yourself in your own laundry room. Nikto has followed you right in, seemingly unaware that he’s invading your personal space. He’s not even looking at you though, eyes zeroed in on the dryer you point to.

“It’s not heating up, so the clothes stay wet or take forever to dry,” you explain.

He grunts in acknowledgement, then nods to Rasputin, who has taken up residence on the washer. His one golden eye blinks slow and serene at the two of you.

“What happened?” he asks.

You hum, softening in pleasant surprise at the question.

“I’m not sure how he lost his eye. It was infected when I found him. But I know for sure the tail and leg are from getting hit by a car.”

You sigh, scratching at Rasputin’s chin. A rusty purr starts up as he tilts his head, revealing some nasty scars around his throat.

“The vet said that that’s probably from a fight with another cat,” you add.

Guy steps from your arms to cuddle up to Rasputin, shoving his face into his ragged ear. Grooming time, then. That’s as good an indication as any that Nikto’s probably safe enough.

“I ran down from an office building to save him.” You blink hard, eyes stinging just from the memory. “But anyway, he gets to rest and be pampered now.”

When you glance up from Rasputin’s happy little face, you almost startle at the sharp blue eyes pinning you in place. Your face feels warm, even though you’re not embarrassed.

“I’ll, um, get out of the way,” you say, clearing your throat. “Keep an eye on things, Ras.”

With the men occupied, you find yourself once again at loose ends. You drift towards the den, but it feels awkward to sit on your ass watching TV while your neighbors fix your house.

You check the time on your phone - ignoring the text from your mother - and figure it’s not too early to start dinner.

“Will I be in the way if I start cooking?” you ask Krueger.

He flicks you a dimissive glance. “A little thing like you?”

You scoff and cross to the fridge. “You could have just said no.”

“Nein,” he snorts.

Rude bastard, you think - though not without fondness, unfortunately. The surly attitude is already growing on you.

There’s meat and spare boxes of pasta and veggies - that’ll work. You start tugging out ingredients, mentally doubling portions for your guests. They look like they work out even beyond the construction labor, hopefully you’ll have enough to satisfy their appetites.

“So what’s the plan with the house?” you ask as you get to work. “Just fixing it up to sell or…?”

“We will live there, the three of us,” Krueger answers. He swipes a screwdriver from Shithead’s batting paws. “Somewhere to stay when we are not working.”

You hum, biting back the next obvious question, loathe to become as nosy as the rest of your neighbors. Still… getting to know people, right?

It sounds like they expect to travel a lot. You can’t imagine them as business types - not in the traditional sense anyway. Though the image of Konig sitting in a tiny cubicle does make you smile a bit. Between their statures, their clothes, their shoes, and the occasional nasty scar, you take a guess.

“Are you guys military?”

“Contractor,” Krueger corrects.

You perk up. “Wait, really?”

He scowls. “Does it sound like a joke?”

You huff and turn back to the veggies you’re cutting. “No, no. I just - you know about guns and knives and things, then?”

He pauses. You shoot him a curious glance, only to quickly look away at the intense scrutiny directed your way.

“Yes,” he answers slowly.

“Then… could you maybe answer some questions…?”

His eyes narrow. “Questions?”

You keep your gaze on the cutting board. “Okay, wait, it's not suspicious. I’m a writer and it’s hard to google very specific questions sometimes. It’s just easier to ask an expert in person.”

Never mind that majority of your readers would never know the difference. It bothers you when things aren’t accurate.

He makes a considering noise. “A writer?”

You flush. “That’s what I do. Why I’m always home? I publish fiction.”

He stands, brushing his hands off on his pants. You peek his way, shocked to see a task you’ve been putting off for weeks already done. Hell, it looks sturdier than the rest of the cabinet doors, too.

“And your fiction requires knowledge of guns and knives and ‘things’?” he asks.

Your face feels like it’s on fire. “Sometimes…”

“Fine. I will answer your questions,” he allows.

You beam. “Thank you!”

He grunts, snatches a slice of pepper and pops it into his mouth.

“What else needs doing?”

Dinner ends up much more pleasant than expected. Nikto abstains from eating, you assume because he doesn’t feel comfortable removing his ever-present mask, but he sits at the table with Rasputin in his lap. He speaks little, and has that intense gaze that prickles at your freeze instinct, but you grow used to it as the meal progresses.

Konig, however, becomes chattier with food in his belly. He’s much more forthcoming when he answers your polite and totally casual questions - though you notice Krueger kick him under the table once or twice.

You suppose he gets you back by effectively announcing to the others what your career is. Which just kicks off the usual line of questioning about how and why you got into writing. Still, there’s no judgment from these men that make their living in labors of blood and sacrifice, where you expected censure. You only find genuine curiosity and intrigue, good-natured questions. Not even Krueger makes backhanded comments about it not being a “real” job.

Before you know it, the moon is high and you’re sending the three of them off, bellies full and a little friendlier than before. Nikto nods to you (and Rasputin) as he leaves, a big Tupperware of his dinner portion in hand.

You tell yourself it’s not anticipation that goes through you, knowing they’ll be back with it soon.

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Masterlist

[rafesangelita]

cowboy!rafe who wakes up to farmer’s!daughter!reader making him breakfast in one of his shirts 🥞 fluff with a little bit of spice please! thank you so much, i love all of your works!

warnings: suggestive language, fluff, suggestive ending

a/n: lol i made breakfast this morning and listened to this song, so that’s what i imagined lol

rafe was a heavy sleeper, but when he smelt crispy bacon in the air and heard ‘foreigner’ playing on the radio downstairs, he figured he’d go check on what woke him up so pleasantly this morning. wearing nothing but his flannel, there you were making a full table of breakfast. fried eggs, pancakes, bacon and hashbrowns.. all of rafe’s favorites. deciding he wasn’t going to make his presence known just yet, he leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen, watching as you swayed your hips to the music.

“i’ve been waiting for a girl like you to come into my life..” rafe whispered the lyrics to himself, his eyes traveling down to your bare legs. you were really in for it if he found out you weren’t wearing anything underneath the worn out fabric. rafe could see you pop a finger in your mouth to try the strawberry jam, the tip of his tongue running across his bottom lip. there was something about a beautiful woman, his woman, making breakfast after a long night of love making that just made him want to propose to you right then and there.

deciding he couldn’t keep his hands to himself any longer, he snuck up behind you, lifting you off of the floor by your hips. “ray!” you yelped, laughing hysterically as he showered you in kisses. “what are you doing up so early?” his arms were wrapped around your waist, holding you tightly against his chest as your head rested in the curve of his neck. “making my favorite man one helluva’ breakfast. ‘figured you’d wake up hungry after last night..” he hummed. “oh, i woke up hungry all right.” you shivered when you felt his fingers trailing themselves down your stomach.

it wasn’t long before he had you sitting on top of the counter, his stature standing firmly between your thighs as he kissed you sloppily. with your nails digging into his skin, a silent plea for him to take you upstairs, you and rafe groaned when he leaned an arm against the cabinet, the old wood creaking under his weight. “you ‘turn that stovetop off?” he picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he took two handfuls of your ass. you nodded your head, both of you abandoning the feast downstairs for something much more.. filling.

[robitherat]

friendly reminder to anyone who talks like this from someone who lives in a red flyover state: you don’t actually know anything about us lol everything you think you know about rural states is wrong i can guarantee you