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artyandink · 1 month ago

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farm baby .ᐟ.ᐟ

↳ SYNOPSIS: you needed some help over at your farm after WES sprained his arm, and it was the first time you actually noticed that CLARK was a tank— like, how does one person do their farm chores that easily? you were stuck here looking like a wet, muddy squirrel while PANDORA and CLARK looked like they came fresh out of a pantene commercial. someone stop you before you start throwing hands, or mud, just to bring them down to your level.

↳ PAIRING(S): wes x betty, clark x bonnie (friendly) (clark | bonnie)

↳ WARNINGS: nothing, just farmboy and farmgirl being cute

↳ RADIO STATION:

↳ night shift by jon pardi

↳ am I wrong by nico & vinz

↳ sunshine by onerepublic

wanna meet everyone again .ᐣ.ᐟ click here

Since your dad had injured his arm in a farming accident, Mr and Mrs Kent had ‘lent’ Clark over as a help for you and your mom while he recovered— and Clark wasn’t salty about it at all, you were his best friend and hung out with him, Pete and Chloe every day, so of course he’d help. Besides, even though you and the Kents had neighbouring farms, there was more help than rivalry, so it was a healthy thing, where if one was in need, the other would come to the rescue.

It was when you’d actually seen Clark working was when you realised that yeah, he was freakishly strong, walking around the farm, lifting hay bales and fixing tractors without breaking a sweat, while you looked like a huffy, sweaty mess, hair plastering to your forehead. Not a great look.

He was an absolute sweetheart as well, a ‘darling’, as your mom called it, as he was all boyish, sunny smiles and farm boy demeanour, helping you out with the farm until even the next day’s work was done the day before. Was this guy a machine or something? You didn’t care, it at least allowed Lex, Pete and Chloe to swing by for an evening of relaxation or homework help, which was nice.

“Hey, Bonnie?�� Clark called, popping out from nowhere, carrying a hay bale, and again having not a single drop of sweat from working in the Smallville heat— honestly, dude was made of titanium. Here you were, looking like a sticky squirrel in flannel.

“Where d’you want this?” He asked, nodding to the bale with that shine in his eyes that was always there, the one which told you that he was probably the kindest person you’d meet. Then again, that was a given, with how he’d relentlessly worked day and night with your dad out of commission.

Honestly, any more of him not becoming a wet rat while working and you’d probably throw a hissy fit. “Over there.” You pointed to the very messy stack of hay bales as you groomed PANDORA. You, in comparison to Clark’s pristine state, looked like a squirrel in mud. Great.

Clark did the thing boys annoyingly did all the time, where he’d effortlessly lift the bale and place it on top of the rest of the stack without so much as a flicker of his expression to acknowledge the weight, grunting under breath, “There you go.”

Clark chuckled when he saw you, your face and hair drenched in sweat as you petted poor ol’ PANDORA, your horse looking slightly amused herself despite her being downcast. “Lookin’ hot.” He teased, grinning and crossing his arms, making no secret of his amusement at your current frazzled expression.

“Ha ha, real funny.” You rolled your eyes playfully, petting PANDORA’S coat as you sat by her. “Now, stop bein’ a male model and c’mere, sit.” You patted the hay beside you, a smile stuck on your face— well, you couldn’t help it when Clark Kent was with you.

Clark chuckled at your response, shaking his head and rolling his eyes in good nature at your joke, before obeying your order and walking over and sitting down beside you, his smile still on his face as he bumped his shoulder with yours, teasing a little more. “Stop bein’ a girl model then,” He answered back, chuckling lowly as he tilted his head at you, bumping his shoulder with yours again, before his eyes slid over to look at you, his expression turning a little more… affectionate.

You smiled, leaning your head on his shoulder, sighing and using your other hand to pat PANDORA, linking your arm with his. “She’s lonely.” You mumbled, “Dad ain’t here.” PANDORA was a little under the weather, considering how Wes wasn’t doing his rounds on the farm and coming to see her especially, so you were spending more time after school working in the stables and the fields, which was where Clark came in after Martha spotted you slaving away with the hay bales.

“Just don’t lift any tractors,” — was what Johnathan said to him.

Clark chuckled softly when you leaned into him, a small smile appearing on his face as he linked his arm with yours when you slotted it with his, his free hand gently squeezing your own in comfort, fingers intertwining with yours. It was so very natural for the both of you, like a rite of passage after knowing each other for no short than since you were children.

“Yeah, I bet,” He answered softly, his smile saddening slightly as he realised you were going through a tough time with your dad being injured, and gently rested his head onto yours, pressing his cheek to the top of your head. “You been holding up okay?” He asked quietly, concern in his eyes.

“Yeah, m’fine, I see Dad whenever I come home, but ‘DORA?” You nodded to the raven-coated horse as you stroked her mane, with her nickering in response and nuzzling your hand— Clark liked to think of you as an animal whisperer, or at least PANDORA as a human whisperer, cause sometimes there was the feeling like you knew what she was saying. Those big eyes were definitely sad. “She’s not as happy, I can feel it.”

Clark smiled a little when you spoke, his expression turning a little softer as he, too, regarded PANDORA, watching as you so sweetly brushed its mane. You’d always been an incredibly caring person, and right now, he couldn’t help but think of how adorable you were with animals.

He turned his head a little, pressing a small kiss to the top of your head, smiling softly. “Yeah, she’s missing your old man, huh?” He murmured quietly, his words tinged with comfort in an attempt to cheer you up a little.

“She’s the real daddy’s girl around here.” You laughed a bit, squeezing his hand— just an unconscious action, really. “I’d be surprised if she wasn’t. Upset, y’know.” Your free hand kept on petting her head, watching PANDORA blink slowly at him, probably reading him— no, actually, she was.

Clark chuckled at your words, amused as he looked over at your expression and laughed when you laughed, his smile slightly lopsided when you squeezed his hand, fingers squeezing back in response to your action, his heart fluttering a little at the sight of you.

“Yeah, doesn’t shock me one bit, honestly.” He replied softly, smiling at the sight of you fussing over your horse, before his eyes slid back to you again. That expression of concern returned, his expression growing a little sadder as he thought about how stressed you were probably feeling.

You noticed the silence and looked up to Clark, head tilting as your big eyes went puppy-like in confusion— sparkles, furrowed eyebrows. “Hey, sweet boy.” You poked his cheek gently. “Where’d the smile go?”

Clark smiled a little at your actions, chuckling softly when your eyes looked like sparkling puppy dog eyes, tilting his head a little as you poked his cheek. “M’fine, m’fine.” He mumbled out automatically, his words slightly mumbled under breath, his cheeks flushing a little as you called him ‘sweet boy’.

A teasing nickname you’d started when he was 14, which, even though he’d tried to shake, had stuck with him, a red blush on his cheeks as he smiled at you, before it fell again and he sighed. “Just worried, that’s all.”

“Worried about what?” Your arm that had linked with his patted his forearm, leaning your chin on his shoulder. “Talk to me, unless you’ll be stubborn.” There was no one more stubborn than a Kent.

Clark chuckled at your words and the slight accusation (which was very true, but he’d be stubborn and won’t admit to it, even though his cheeks burned a little at being called out), leaning his head to rest on yours, closing his eyes and sighing heavily, before he opened them again.

“Just worried about you, y’know.” He mumbled softly. “You seem down cause of your dad being injured, and I…” he trailed off, his cheeks growing pink, his eyes flickering over your face, “I don’t like it when you’re sad.”

“I guess it’s natural, I always thought Dad was, like, invincible.” You grinned slightly at the thought, at the memories of never seeing your dad sick, of when he’d lift you on his shoulder or throw a rugby ball to Logan like he did in his championship days, “But s’okay, I’ve got my other favourite invincible person with me.” You ruffled his hair. “It’s like you’re made of steel.”

Man of Steel.

Clark gave a small laugh, an affectionate smile taking over his face as you spoke, his cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink at your words, grinning when you ruffled his unruly locks. “Pfft, m’made of steel, am I?” He teased, his tone lighthearted as a chuckle escaped his mouth. It was a comment that had been said many times in his direction.

“Only for you, then.” He responded, grinning a little wider, his eyes dancing affectionately as they flicked up and down your face— how did you do it? Clark was yet to uncover how you always managed to make his worries melt away with one little smile and a joke from you.

“That makes me feel special, thank you.” You giggled, nudging him, both of you basking in the evening sun, casting shadows and that wonderful dewy-looking glow— mind you, you had an amazing view of it from your farm.

Clark smiled, chuckling when you nudged him, his eyes returning to your form as you basked in the setting sun. He just… smiled, taking in the sight of you and the golden glow of a beautiful evening, the sun bathing you both in this beautiful warm glow that made you look, I don’t know, Lex level expensive. He didn’t take his eyes from you, simply taking in your expression, the small laugh that escaped your lips, the beautiful view of the sunset lighting up your face…

“God, you’re gorgeous.” He breathed out quietly.

The statement came from his mouth so suddenly, and he suddenly felt a lump in it upon saying it— it was the type’a thing he’d say to Lana, not you, not that you weren’t gorgeous, but he just couldn’t fathom where it came from. But you just… you looked to him, eyebrows raised with a small grin, still stroking PANDORA as she nickered beside you, almost like a small tease to his slip up. “You’re gorgeous too, Kent.” You said back with a soft chuckle, gently touching your temple to his, not sceptical, reassuring. After all, you were the town’s southern belle.

His heart was fluttering as he felt you gently knock your head against his affectionately, his eyes flickered from your eyes back to you, a soft expression that he couldn’t control from appearing on his face. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He mumbled out quietly, his expression still soft as he smiled, his arm squeezing yours gently as he continued looking at you, lip caught between his teeth. “Not as gorgeous as you, though.”

“That’s a high bar, yeah.” Then you let the silence linger a bit, hang in the air like a hovering blanket of sorts, trying to find the words— what? It’s not like only the Kents were stubborn. “Thank you, by the way. For the farm.” You smiled genuinely. “I’d be run ragged if it wasn’t for you.” You opened my arms for a hug, and like come-frickin’-on, how could he refuse that grin on your face?

“C’mere.” He chuckled, beckoning you over, and he felt at home, wrapping his arms around your waist and squeezing you tight against his chest, burying his face into your neck, his eyes closed as he inhaled your scent. “Hey. ‘S not a problem.” He murmured. “We’re both farm babies, it’s a rite’a passage.”

Your head popped up from his shoulder with a slightly confused giggle, head tilted, nose bumping against his. “Did you just call us farm babies?”

He raised his eyebrows in challenge, corner of his lip quirking. “Objections?”

“None.” And there you went again, burying your head in the crook of his neck, breathing in the earthy scent which made Clark him, feeling him shift you so you were sitting on his thighs, hand holding your dusty cheek like he was protecting you, cheek resting on your head. It always felt like that, really, like Clark was protecting something or the other.

You didn’t mind; it was part of him.

𝒇𝒊𝒏 ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

TAGLIST— @foolinthera1n @perseephoneee (special tag my loves)

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↳ @lyarr24 @ximm19

↳ @a-girl-who-loves-disney @deans-spinster-witch @deanspinsterwitchs-readinglist @kayleighwinchester

↳ @cheynovak

↳ comment ‘pandora’ to join the TAGLIST.

#clark kent x reader #smallville x reader #clark kent #tom welling #smallville #clark kent fluff #clark kent smut #artyandink #arty writes #pandora #01— farm baby .ᐟ

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solarmorrigan · 4 months ago

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It's Lovely Weather for a Hayride Together with You

For the @steddie-spooktober day 17 prompt: Hayride Rated: G | Words: 690 | CW: None | Tags: established relationship, Steve Harrington has bad parents, Eddie Munson is a sweetheart, experiencing vicarious childlike wonder Divider credit: @saradika

Everywhere Steve looks, there’s something to do. Pick-your-own-pumpkins in one direction, corn maze in another, pop-up carnival games with cheap stuffed prizes tucked in here and there, and everywhere little stalls selling pie, popcorn, candied pecans, cookies, cider, roast pumpkin seeds – the list goes on.

But the thing that keeps catching Steve’s eye is the hayride.

It’s mostly for kids, he knows. He and Eddie had come to the pumpkin patch to check out the haunted corn maze, maybe pick a few pumpkins to carve, and almost definitely gorge on snacks; they hadn’t come to sit in a straw-filled trailer hitched to a tractor pulling them at approximately 0.5 miles per hour. And yet–

Steve can’t help but remember second grade, when his class had taken a trip out to one of the local pumpkin patches. It had been a lot smaller than this one, but they’d still boasted a hayride which all the kids had clamored to get on. It had seemed to Steve at the time like the most exciting part of the day, feeling the breeze on his face and the coarse straw beneath his hands, waving at the people who were wading through the pumpkins as they drove by; he’d been enchanted.

He'd told his mom all about it when he’d come home from school that day, and she’d indulged his excited, childish chatter, but had closed off when Steve had asked if they could go back: the three of them, together.

She’d given him a faint, noncommittal answer and changed the subject. Messy things like pumpkin patches and hayrides weren’t really her thing, and Steve’s dad – well, he didn’t have time for silly things like that (things like Steve).

Now, as much as Steve feels the pull of that excited seven-year-old, still buried somewhere inside him, he dismisses it. Hayrides are for little kids.

Except Eddie, who seems to know what Steve wants sometimes before even Steve himself does, follows Steve’s wandering gaze, and asks, “Do you want to go?”

Steve immediately withdraws, shaking his head. “No, I’m good,” he says quickly, turning instead towards the corn maze.

“Well, I do,” Eddie declares, grabbing Steve by the arm and tugging him back towards the ride. “C’mon.”

They must make quite a pair—two grown men, Steve in his sweater and his still-new glasses, and Eddie with his rock-and-roll ready hair and leather jacket, standing in line with a handful of waist-high kids and their parents—but no one comments. They all pile into the trailer when it comes back around, claiming seats wherever they can find them on top of the bales of hay, and the tractor takes off again.

It's crowded enough that Eddie and Steve can justify sitting close, pressed together from hip to knee, all in the name of giving other people some room. Eddie’s thigh against Steve’s own is a warm counterpoint to the cool breeze as they sail past the pumpkin patch and the mostly harvested fields of corn.

It really isn’t as exciting as Steve remembers it being, but he can tell that for the kids sitting around them, maybe experiencing the ride for the first time, it’s magic. They tug on the sleeves of their parents’ jackets and point at things in the distance, and their parents pretend to marvel. One kid is busily spouting every fact he knows about tractors while his mother listens and nods along. They all wave at the people in the fields as they go by, and the people wave back.

It's not what Steve remembers, but it’s good.

“Having a good time?” Eddie asks, leaning in to speak in Steve’s ear so he can be heard over the rumble of the tractor.

“The best,” Steve deadpans, but Eddie only grins.

“Good,” he says, leaning back on his hands.

From where he has one hand braced on the haybale behind Steve’s back, it’s almost like he’s got his arm around Steve, keeping him warm in the October chill, creating a little bubble just for them as they pass the fall scenery at a sedate pace.

It’s not what Steve remembers, but it’s good.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie-spooktober #solar wrote #eddiesteve

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itmeblog · 1 year ago

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As someone from a city who navigates by memory, the sun, and prayer to whichever god is out there listening, the corn maze is where I go to die. It's my final hurrah, I enter with the gravitas of walking myself into the sea.

I have never made it out of one of those under my own power. Tall stalks obscuring any true landmarks, the sun the only thing with a definite direction. It is a sea of greens and browns and yellows with the brilliant blue sky up above, which on cloudless days mocks you with a twisted reflection of the sameness you're experiencing in that hellhole of a maze.

From my many hours of podcast sampling I have deduced a few hidden secrets of this sphere. For example: Americans really like the the phrase "buck wild"

#also a hayride is like a wagon(?) with hay bales you can sit on or with like a hay dusted floor pulled by a tractor

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afyrian · 4 months ago

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hay bales everywhere sakusa kiyoomi x fem!reader (fluff) m.list | wc: 1.2k | halloween event: day four

“thanks for coming with me, sakusa. normally i wouldn’t take a first date on a hayride… but they’re almost closed for the year and i haven’t had time,” you stand amongst a cornfield, hands clasped in front of you.

sakusa kiyoomi, your first date partner, stands beside you. his shoulder has bumped into yours more times than you count as you wait for the last ride of the day. the sun has started to lower in the sky, the clouds parting to reveal a ray of beautiful oranges and yellows. you had messaged on and off for a week before proposing the idea.

and despite his initial objections, he’s standing next to you, hands in his pockets. “i get it, didn’t you say it’s a tradition? or dream, or something?” sakusa ponders, gaze constantly moving away from you and to the ticket holder who stands beside the two of you.

“tradition. although, it’s more like, try a hay bale ride, not a specific one. it’s just that i’ve heard good things about this one and i couldn’t come last year,” you look over at him, taking in his features all at once.

you remember his photos from his profile, the ones his friends seemingly added. one of him with a random dog, one of him during a game, one of him and a friend who you could only assume to be the one to make his account. none of them quite capture the natural appeal he garners. the way his smile is soft and gentle, overtaken only by the curls on his head.

“you have any traditions during this time of year?” you take in a deep breath, the cool autumn air filling your lungs.

sakusa looks ahead at the track, narrowing his eyes. “uh, no, well, my team does. it’s just an event we have after the fall tournaments. i never go, but they all seem to really enjoy it-”

his sentence is cut short as the tractor and bed comes down the trail. the loud murmur of the motor rattles through the air as it comes to a stop behind a large archway. a family and a few couples step off of the bed, hay falling off the sides. one of the individuals look familiar, the blonde hair dye burned into the back of your mind.

looking back at sakusa, you try to ignore the nagging feeling, instead choosing to walk towards the tractor. walking with him, you make your way to the steps. sakusa, his hand a little shaky, holds your hand as you walk up the steps. he stands there, an almost hidden smile on his face when you make it up the final step.

“gosh it feels amazing out here,” you breathe in the country air, sitting down on one of the many hay bales.

they’re all tied in, yet pieces of flying astray across the wooden bed. sakusa makes his way up as well, looking at the hay, bits of dirt on the bales. his breath hitches when he looks over at you, wondering if he could still back out now. however, when the driver shouts out ‘please sit down, the ride starts soon’, sakusa’s forced to sit beside you.

“yeah, it’s quite chilly out here,” he nods, hands resting on his knees, tapping constantly.

you raise an eyebrow, feeling the tractor starting to move. “you want my jacket or something?” you question, smiling widely as the night of festivities and first date blunders begins.

sakusa looks over at you, rolling his eyes. despite a tenseness he feels running down his back, listening to you joke brings an ounce of peace to him. “that would be so kind of you, i don’t know what i would do without you,” he leans back against the wooden railing, closing his eyes and bringing the back of his hand up to his forehead.

“you’d never experience this amazing hayride and slightly awkward first date,” you nod, looking out at the cornfields and fields of pumpkins.

the rest of the bed is empty besides the hay bales, leaving just the two of you. it’s not necessarily awkward, but the silence between you is palpable at best. you look back at him, watching as he plays with the zipper on the end of his jacket. “so… what do you consider to be the best first date question?”

sakusa looks back at you, eyebrow raised. “‘best first date question’? i’ve never thought of that before, i don’t go on dates all that often. but, if i could think of any, i would say ‘what did you want to grow up to be when you were younger?’. sorry, it’s the only one i could think of,” sakusa shrugs, swaying as the tractor runs over a small pothole.

“what did i want to be? would it be ridiculous to say an astronaut?” you shake your head, thinking back to the spaceship drawings and watching different space programs that lingered on television.

sakusa looks back at you, mouth slightly open as he smiles. tapping his foot against the wood incessantly, he shakes his head, “no, no, it’s not. i mean, you still have a chance. you have a favorite constellation or whatever?”

looking up at the sky, you look for the specific constellations in the sky that you can recognize. different ones that are no longer clouded by the light pollution of the city. and finally you can spot the specific one in your mind. pointing towards the sky, you lean towards him, so he can follow your finger.

“you see those four stars up there? it’s my favorite constellation, called ‘this is a good first date’,” you look over at him, face a little too close to his.

sakusa looks back at you, his face dropping as if he’s trying to hide an egregious smile. “really? i’ll have to look into it more after this. maybe there’ll even be one that mentions a second date,” a sudden coarse of confidence runs through sakusa, his hand bumping into your knee as the driver hits another pothole.

you shake your head, suddenly feeling very nature with him. the aura he emits feeling warm and gentle beside you. either that or your cheeks have just received more blood than needed, even your hands start to feel clammy under the cool evening air. “right, i think you’re right. but i’m sure you could send me a link, perhaps a reservation,” you can feel your breath hitch, meeting your match.

just as you’re about to say something else, comment on how much you’d love to tell him more about astronomy, the driver shouts something. due to the engine and speed, the two of you can’t hear him. however, you soon learn what he means when the bed hits a large pothole, sending you flying into sakusa.

pushing him against the hay bales, you’re practically laying on him. your hands are on his chest, fingers sprawled out against his shoulders. looking into his eyes, you bite your lip, “i assume he said something about a pothole.”

“yeah, i think so too,” sakusa nods against the hay bales, pieces getting stuck in his dark black hair.

not able to pull your gaze from his, you hold back a smile. his eyes move frantically, looking between yours, hand finding itself on your hip, “you’re gorgeous, by the way.”

“you say that to all your first dates?”

“just the ones who take me on hayrides.”

taglist (open): @eggyrocks @causenessus @applepi25 @softpia @bakery-anon

@bae-ashlynn @puffychu6781

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fic #haikyuu fanfic #hq #hq x reader #hq fanfic #sakusa x reader #sakusa kyoomi x reader #hq sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #haikyuu sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa fluff #☆ halloween event

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vivwritesfics · 10 months ago

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Idk if you got this already but,

Rooster with a western rider gf (this is my first time doing this sorry if this is bad)

-🐎(also if no one has taken horse can i)

YES OFC YOU CAN BE HORSE OMG I LOVE THIS (i'm an english rider and my western rider knowledge is little to none lol)

The rest of the Dagger Squad didn't know all that much Rooster's girl. They knew she was slightly younger, knew he saw her as often as she could.

She had never been to The Hard Deck, had never met any of the other naval aviators. It was always Bradley driving his Bronco to see her.

He sat in The Hard Deck, had one single beer with his friends, with Pheonix, Hangman, Bob and the rest of them. "When are you going?" Asked Jake, pointing the pool cue towards him as Bradley walked away.

He grinned and pushed his sunglasses over his eyes. "I'm going to see my girl," he said and walked out of The Hard Deck.

The other aviators watched him go. Only Nat smiled. Only Nat believed him. The rest of them didn't voice it as they went back to their game of pool, but they didn't think Rooster's girl was real. If she was, surely they would have met her.

They didn't know just how busy she was.

But Bradley knew. As he drove down the driveway, past the fields of horses, he knew just how busy she was.

He parked the car outside of the barn and climbed out. Bradley's first stop was always the barn. He walked in, walking over to Chief. The chestnut horse stood with his head over the stable door, whinnying when he saw Bradley.

"Hey, Chief," he muttered, stroking the white stripe down his face. "Where is your mom?"

Chief searched through his pocket. He nosed Bradley's jeans before chewing on his Hawaiian shirt. But Bradley quickly pulled himself from Chiefs mouth without too much damage to the shirt.

It was at that moment when she walked into the barn, a sandy coloured horse behind her. "Hey!" She called as she walked the horse into a stable and shut the door behind her. She hung the rope over the door and ran through the barn, jumping into Bradley's arms.

He held her easily, his hands under her ass. She pulled her hat from her head and kissed him. "Miss you, Roos," she whispered against his lips.

"I missed you too," he said and put her down. As soon as she was on the floor, she took her hat and placed it on Bradley's head. It was one of his favourite things about coming to her farm.

"Are you ready for dinner?" He asked, taking her hand and slowly walking her out of the barn.

She bit her lip, her expression almost guilty. "I will be, Bradley. I just gotta bring in Circe and Linda in from the top fields, throw hay into the back fields, and get changed."

"Anything I can help with?" Bradley asked. He always did ask. A rather large part of him loved working on her farm, loved helping where he could. He wasn't born to be a cowboy, but a cowgirl's husband.

She fished a set of keys from her pocket. "Wanna drive the tractor?"

She knew that was Bradley's favourite part. They loaded the tractor trailer with bales of hay and Bradley set off with her in the passenger seat.

Bradley knew exactly where to go. He'd driven the trails around the fields enough times. He took the tractor to the first of the back fields and stopped.

He jumped out of the tractor and immediately grabbed the bale of hay before she could. "Bradley," she groaned and he put the bale back down. Just so that he could take off his Hawaiian shirt, flex his muscles as he threw the bale into the field.

Immediately, the horses came running. She climbed into the field and cut the twine away from the hay, putting it into the pocket.

They did this for two more fields before Bradley drove her up to the top field. She climbed out of the tractor and walked over to his side. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she kissed him again. "Should I meet you at the barn, Cowboy?" She asked as she flicked the brim of the hat, tipping it up slightly.

"You got it, Cowgirl," he said and kissed her, his moustache brushing her top lip. She loved it more than anything. The sight of him in the cowboy hat, wearing the Hawaiian shirt, the feel of his moustache, she loved it.

When she climbed into the field, Bradley drove off. He drove around the fields while she grabbed a hold of the two horses she needed to bring in. "Come on, ladies," she said as she walked them to the gates, taking them to the barn.

Bradley waited at the barn, just as she had asked him to. He leaned against the tractor, the keys in his hand as she walked past with Linda and Circe.

Even while she had the horses, she stopped and kissed him. "Almost done," she promised, taking the hat from his head and placing it back on her own.

Bradley watched her go, watched her walk into the barn and walked Linda and Circe into their stables. She gave them their prepared feed and walked back over to Bradley.

When she wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning against him, he slipped the keys into her pocket and held her hips. "Almost ready to go," she said, grinning up at him.

Bradley frowned down at her. "But you look gorgeous already," he said, kissing the inside of her wrist. "C'mon, let me take you out for dinner."

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