#bring the ranchers back

[gtwscratch]

Homeward

Summary: Sometime after Double Life, communications manage to get set up between Hermitcraft and EmpiresSMP. Tango tells himself he’ll apologize to Jimmy as soon as it’s set up (spoiler alert: it takes a while).

Part two of my little Ranchers story! I highly recommend reading part one first to have the full experience :) 

CW: None!

Word count: 1,202 words

[Part 1] [Part 2]

===============================

It’s… been a bit since Tango’s gotten to talk to Jimmy.

He didn’t end up speaking to the half-avian anymore after their permadeath, and since getting back to Hermitcraft, he’s felt a bit guilty about it. Sure, giving Jimmy space (and taking space for himself to cool down, kind of literally) was the right choice, but a part of his brain nags at him that he should have apologized. That he shouldn’t have left them on bad terms. No one knows when they’ll be pulled into the games again. They don’t know who will be pulled. It could be a very long time until Tango can properly talk to Jimmy again and apologize for what happened.

So when Xisuma announces to the server that he and Pix had managed to set up communications between the two servers, it’s safe to say that Tango is more than a little surprised. And when the surprise ebbs into anxiety, he immediately starts making plans to talk to Jimmy.

After thinking it over for a few hours, he grabs his comm and scrolls to Jimmy’s name. Tango is going to apologize. He is going to tell Jimmy how sorry he is, how much the Ranch meant to him—how much it still means to him—how he was never actually upset with Jimmy but with the crappy situation they were forced into.

He’s going to..

To..

Huh.

Tango’s hands aren’t usually this shaky when he holds his communicator.

It’s just.. It’s just because he has a lot to say, right? Yeah, yeah, that’s it. There’s just a lot to apologize for, and he doesn’t want to miss anything. Maybe… he should make a list? Yes! A list. A list will keep him on track.

Tango sets his communicator down and looks for a pen and paper, finding a crumpled scrap and a nearly-out-of-ink marker amongst the mess that is Decked Out 2 planning. He gets to work making a list on what topics he wants to talk about.

1.) He’s sorry for yelling at Jimmy.

2.) The Ranch always meant something.

3.) He never blamed Jimmy for their permadeath.

4.) He wants to start over.

Tango looks long and hard at the list, going over it again and again to make sure he hasn’t missed anything. He picks up his comm again, but.. it still doesn’t feel right. Maybe getting Impulse or Etho to look it over and make sure it’s good will help with his nerves? Once again, another great idea. He hastily grabs the paper and shoves it into his pocket before equipping his elytra and going off to talk to his friends, leaving his communicator behind.

===============================

This goes on for days, and then weeks, and then months. Tango keeps making excuses on why he can’t talk to Jimmy yet, even ignoring any messages that Jimmy’s sent. It’s not at all that he doesn’t want to talk to his rancher friend. He desperately wants to set things right! He’s just.. absolutely terrified that Jimmy will never forgive him and that they’ll never have each other like they did before.

So… yeah. No pressure.

One day, when Tango is about to wrangle the ravagers back into their proper places inside the dungeon, his comm pings. He pulls it out and sees that Grian has sent a message to everyone.

<Grian> Everyone meet at the Rift

<Grian> Something weird is happening

About fifteen-ish minutes later, all of the Hermits are in the cave where the Rift appeared. Tango can’t say he’s been here very often, but even in his short visits, it’s given him the heebie jeebies. Despite Tango’s few and far between visits, even he can tell that the Rift is different. Its regular light purple glow has turned into something much darker, and the usually-calm surface swirls angrily, like a Nether portal but worse.

Grian claps his hands to get everyone’s attention, quieting the Hermits’ chatter down. “Right, so when I woke up this morning and came down here, the Rift was like this.”

Cleo crosses her arms, tilting their head to the side. “And this needed everyone’s attention because…?”

Something flashes in Grian’s eyes, so fast that Tango figures that he’s imagining things. “I think we should go through.”

That receives quite a few mixed reactions, some of the more easygoing (*cough cough* reckless and chaotic *cough cough*) members simply shrug and nod, ready to do whatever. Others are more hesitant, in the middle of big projects and not wanting to leave them unattended for any extended period of time.

“Quick question,” Impulse speaks up from the crowd, “do we have any idea what’s on the other side?”

“Oh, not a clue,” Grian responds with a smile. “I just have a feeling that it’ll be fun.”

“A feeling?” Xisuma questions.

Grian hums his confirmation, his grin only growing. “A feeling.”

After a few long moments, Xisuma sighs. “Alright, anyone who wants to go in can go. I’ll be going to make sure some of you,” he makes a pointed look at Grian who just grins even wider, “don’t get into too much trouble.”

One by one, Hermits start to walk into the portal, a few staying behind. Tango should stay behind. He still has a bunch of work to do on Decked Out 2, but.. a break sounds really nice. He’s long overdue for some relaxation, and maybe once his head is cleared, he can actually message Jimmy to talk about things. Of all of Tango’s procrastinating plans, this one is by far the best one, he thinks. 

He waves to the Hermits who’ve decided to stay behind, and he walks through the portal. It’s a weird sensation, unlike going through a Nether or End portal. It feels like he’s moving through cold honey, and Tango thinks he’s in that space between dimensions for much longer than usual. When he finally exits the portal, he stumbles onto the stone on the other side, being caught by Impulse before he can fall. Tango looks around, a bit surprised to see structures off in the distance. 

Must be another server,  he thinks to himself. To double check, he pulls up the tabs list on his comm to see if there are other people who aren’t Hermits present, and he quickly sees that he was right. With their group's arrival, it seems as if they’ve doubled the player count on this server.

Tango glances over the names, wondering if he’ll recognize any of them and he’s pleasantly surprised to see so many names from the Life Games, looking forward to talking with them without the whole threat of ‘we need to kill each other eventually’ looming above them. And then he sees it.

Towards the bottom of the list, sitting right above his own name, lies the name SolidarityGaming.

Oh.

Oh shit.

They’re on the EmpiresSMP server.

Tango quickly turns around to dart back through the portal, but it’s already closed. And if Grian said it was just active like it was when he went down to check on it, then they have no way to get back to the Hermitcraft server. Which means Tango is stuck here. It means he can’t avoid his dread or Jimmy anymore.

===============================

So, remember when I said this was going to be a two-parter?

What if... I told you guys that while I was writing this, I changed my mind and made it three parts???

Uh.. surprise?

[okruee]

cow guy

[teamranchersheadcanons]

Jimmy frequently goes to one specific restaurant (Skizz and Tango's) just to flirt with the hot waiter (his boyfriend Tango).

Tango gets so distracted talking to Jimmy that Skizz sends up yelling at Tango to do his job because food is piling up on the counters and Jimmy is just trying to get Tango's number. They're already together but think it's cute to flirt like they're not.

None of the other customers care or notice because they just think that the food takes a long time to make but in reality it's just their waiter is flirting with a customer the entire time.

When Jimmy leaves, he leaves a huge tip for 'great customer service' even though he knows that tips are shared, he doesn't mind. Tango's half of the tip will most likely go back to Jimmy anyway.

[marzghost]

Seeing as fan kids are coming back, I just wanted to share my silly little rancher kid. Scar nicknamed him Nemo on account of his little wing. As a kid, he was SUPER scared of the chickens but loved hanging out with the goats. He won't admit it, but he's still a bit scared of chickens. He's not exactly good with redstone or building, but surprisingly, he's good at PvP and mob wrangling! Jimmy calls him his little spark while Tango calls him chickpea, everyone else pretty much calls him Phoebe! He used to have an imaginary friend named torchy up until he was seven years old and grew out of it. (I had toooo lol) His favorite color is periwinkle (NOT PURPLE ,he will correct you if you say purple)

[munchkinwsketches]

Forgot I had these in the back to be posted here. Anyway, Slime Rancher 2 is a very relaxing game.

[raddest-laddest]

i wish i could enjoy things and be creative on my own at the same time

[goldenroseeon]

No, you didn't come back wrong, I became wrong bringing you back.

You're perfect, just how I imagined you, but I'm no longer who I once was.

Can you still love me, then? So different than when you first met me?

[codgod-moved]

man the dailyteamrancher blog was kinda fun i should do something like that again

[xmooncanary]

New life series soon!! Maybe my mcyt hyperfixation will return to me.....

[arolesbianism]

I had the most stressful 30 minutes of my life today while playing oni ohhhh my god remind me to never underprepare for a rocket trip again

[gtwscratch]

Homesick

Summary: Tango misses Jimmy, and Skizz hypes him up (set in Secret Life)

CW: None!

Word count: 1,042

(Sorry not sorry about the Flower Husbands slander-)

========================

“Your rancher?”

Tango stops his small tangent as Skizz interrupts him with the question, sitting on a chest. He feels his cheeks heat up a little bit in embarrassment.

“Oh, yeah, um,” Tango scratches the back of his neck nervously. “Remember when you missed a round of the death games?“

“Yeah, I think Impulse said that you guys were, like, soulbound to another person on the server? Your health bar was connected or something?”

Tango nods. “Yeah, that sums it up. Well, I was.. um.. bound to Jimmy. We built a ranch and called ourselves ‘The Ranchers.’ We.. didn’t make it too far. Canary Curse and all that. That’s what he called it at least.”

He looks to the ground, glancing up every so often as he waits for laughter, or teasing, or just some kind of reaction from Skizz.

“Was he good to you?” Skizz asks the question with complete sincerity, and of course that’s the first thing he asks. It’s just a very ‘Skizz’ response.

While it’s not out of character for Skizz to be nonjudgemental, it’s still a relief to Tango, and he lets out a small breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

Skizz waits a few moments before prompting him again. “Well, was he?”

Tango nearly scoffs, a soft smile on his face. “He wasn’t just good to me.”

Memories from the ranch flash through his head. He remembers the reassurance that Jimmy gave him when he had gotten them both blown up in the first session. He remembers Jimmy bringing home some of their first cows and the excitement they shared. He remembers Jimmy calming him down when the ranch first burned down. He remembers finding RR, and—despite Jimmy’s hesitancy—bringing him onto the ranch and raising him as their own. He remembers Jimmy’s laughter, his smile, how his feathers looked golden when the light hit them just right. He remembers waking up to a wing or an arm wrapped around him, holding him close. He remembers never wanting to leave the ranch—never wanting to leave Jimmy.

His smile falters, also remembers not getting to give him a proper goodbye.

“He was.. everything.”

If Tango wasn’t so caught up in his head at the moment, he would’ve realized how cheesy he sounded and gotten thoroughly embarrassed. It’s not that he thinks Skizz is going to give him trouble (maybe he’d give Tango just a little bit of crap about it, but they’re bros, so it’s fine). Tango’s just not used to being so open about how much he misses life on the ranch. He glances away from Skizz, clearing his throat.

“But that’s all in the past now,” he quickly adds on.

“But you don’t want it to be,” Skizz points out just as quickly, and Tango can feel his cheeks burn a little.

“Well.. yeah, of course I don’t. It was fun.”

He was fun.

“And you’re still down bad for him,” Skizz smirks. Aaand there the teasing is. It causes Tango to blush a little more.

“Yeah, obviously,” Tango rolls his eyes.

“Then I guess there’s only one thing to do,” Skizz decides, standing up. “We’ve gotta get you your rancher back.”

“Wait, what??” Tango’s tail flicks to the side as he looks to Skizz with wide eyes. “What in the void do you mean?”

“What do you mean ‘what do I mean?’ We’re going to convince Jimmy to join us, and then you guys can get back together.” Skizz says it so nonchalantly, like it’s common sense.

This time, Tango does scoff. “Yeah, like it’s gonna be that easy.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Skizz crosses his arms and tilts his head to the side slightly, mildly confused.

“Because it’s just not,” Tango says, a snippy edge to his tone.

Skizz seems unbothered by Tango’s quickly-rising temper. “That’s not an answer. You literally just said you’d want to team with him, but now you don’t want to? What’s up, Tango? You can talk to me, man.”

The flames in Tango’s hair and on the end of his tail flare a bit, but only for a quick moment. “What if he doesn’t-..!” He takes a second, balling his fists against his sides. Tango takes a few breaths before continuing, his voice a lot quieter than it had been before. “What if.. he doesn’t want me back anymore?”

Skizz’s expression softens lightly, and he takes a few steps forward, putting a hand on Tango’s shoulder. “That’s ridiculous. Why wouldn’t he?”

Tango sighs. “I know he and Scott were a thing the first time we did all this.. And he’s always going after Jimmy in these games. Well, except for the third game.. I think.” He pauses. “He seems really determined to get Jimmy back.”

“And? Jimmy’s never said yes to him,” Skizz says, sounding very sure of the statement.

“Well, yeah, but-“

Skizz is quick to interrupt Tango. “Ah! No buts, mister! You’re going to be quiet and listen to what I have to say before you try to argue with me, okay?”

Tango gives him a small nod, and Skizz continues. “If Jimmy’s not saying yes to Scott’s advances, it means he’s saying no. Just because Scott wants to get back together with him doesn’t mean Jimmy wants the same. Relationships—romantic or not—work two ways, and from what I’m hearing, this is a one-sided relationship.

“So, you still have a chance, my friend.” Skizz gives Tango a reassuring smile. “And, between me and you, you and Jimmy sound like you make a way cuter couple than Jimmy and Scott were.”

Tango chuckles at that, and Skizz gives him a genuine smile. “Really, Tango—you should shoot your shot with him. You sound like you were really happy with him.”

Tango smiles back. “Yeah, I was..” His smile turns into a smirk. “And you’re right—Jimmy and I are a much better couple than he and Scott ever were.”

“Of course I’m right!” He gives Tango’s shoulder a light squeeze. “Now! Shall we go find Jimmy and ask him to join us?”

Tango has no idea why Skizz asked him that because the man is already walking towards the island’s shore. He just shakes his head and sighs softly, smiling. “Alright, alright. Let���s go get him.”

=====================================

I hope you all enjoyed! There are more one shots on the way!! :DDD

[loserboysandlithium]

Sexual Healing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Reader faking an orgasm with Eddie because she’s too in her head and her anxiety is through the roof. Eddie notices and helps ground her in a very unique way.

18+ minors dni, explicit sexual content, mentions of anxiety and using the five senses to ground yourself

****

“Did you just... did you just fake it?” Eddie’s eyes go wide as you toss your head back into the pillow with a groan.

“Did it not feel good? Was I doing something wrong?” Eddie asks, his fingers trailing up and down your arm lightly.

“It’s not you, baby.” you sigh, peeking at him through your lashes. “I’m just in my head. Too many thoughts.. I don’t know. I’m sorry baby.” you whisper, embarrassment creeping up quickly.

“You don’t need to be sorry, sweetheart. What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, hm?” he presses gently.

“Just too much.” you reply, shutting your eyes once again. You hated when your brain got like this. So many thoughts. So many emotions. Just so fucking much. You just wanted to turn them all off.

You suddenly feel Eddie’s body weight on top of you. An instant calm rushing over you. Not fully quieting the thoughts, but pushing them further away. You open your eyes to see his deep brown ones looking at you carefully.

“Stay right here. Don’t move!” he grins before jumping off of you. Your body feels empty again, the bad thoughts clawing their way back in immediately. You just want to scream at them to shut up. You can feel the bubbles in your chest building and building like a soda bottle that’s been shaken up, just waiting to explode.

You hear something in the distance. You know it’s Eddie’s record player but it sounds so far away, your thoughts louder than anything else in this moment.

The lights shut off, only the flicker of a candle illuminating the room. And then you feel him again. His soft skin on yours. The beautiful feeling of his body pressing you into the mattress.

He leans down, his soft lips barely brushing yours before moving to your cheek. Soft kisses until his lips meet your ear. “Close your eyes, sweet girl.” he breathes, his voice soothing and warm.

You allow your eyes to fall shut once again, listening to Eddie’s instructions. “What do you feel baby?” he mumbles into your neck as he continues planting wet kisses up and down.

“Y-your lips.”

“And how does it feel?”

“Feels so good, Eddie.” you breathe, doing your best to focus on the feeling of his lips sucking your soft skin.

“Mmm, and what do you hear?”

“Music… Marvin Gaye. You hate Marvin Gaye, baby.”

“Mhmm, but you don’t.” he chuckles against your lips before kissing you once again.

His kiss is harder this time, his tongue slipping into your mouth, urgent but also very delicate. You focus on his kiss. Feeling his tongue exploring the inside of your mouth, whimpering as he pulls away.

“What do you taste?”

“Weed. Camel blues and… jolly ranchers?” you giggle as he sticks his tongue out, a light blue from the candy coating the entire thing.

“Blue raspberry.” he smiles before he starts to move lower. His lips travel across your breasts, small kisses before his lips wrap around your nipple, gently sucking. You let out a soft moan as you reach out, running your fingers through his curls.

“What do you smell, baby?” he continues his efforts to bring you back to the present moment.

“Pine trees. The candle I bought you for your birthday.” you answer as his lips work even lower.

“Good girl.” Eddie winks up at you, making your stomach flip.

You feel his large hands on the inside of your thighs, pushing your legs apart, pressing a kiss to the top of your pussy. You let out a soft moan in response. You realize you can hear the music now, louder than before. Actually hearing the words.

Oh I can tell you, darling, that it's sexual healing.

“And what do you see, sweetheart?” Eddie soothes, dipping his tongue inside, licking a long stripe from your hole to your clit and back again.

“You baby, only you.” you whimper. Eddie’s plan to ground you had worked perfectly. The only thing on your mind was him. The pleasure you were receiving below.

His lips wrap around your clit, tugging the sensitive bud into his mouth over and over making your moans grow louder.

You grip his curls, shoving his face deeper into your cunt making him moan into you. You can feel how wet you are, all of your worries floating away with every flick of his tongue.

He switches his tempo, taking his time, his tongue seeming to reach every part of you as he laps at your soaked pussy. Long strokes up and down before he’s shoving it as deep as possible making your back arch.

“Yes, baby. Fuck yes.” you encourage him to fuck you with his tongue. His nose brushes against your clit perfectly as he darts his tongue in and out of you. You can feel it twisting and swirling around, being coated with your slick as he watches your pretty face.

You begin bucking your hips, grinding your pussy on his face. His thick fingers dig into your skin as he allows you to use him for your pleasure. “Don’t stop until you cum, baby. Ride my fucking face.” he groans before he’s back between your thighs.

You don’t even know what part of him is inside you at this point, what’s rubbing against your clit so deliciously. His nose, his chin, his tongue. It didn’t matter, it all felt so good.

Your eyes are shut tight as both hands cling to his hair, your hips rutting up against him desperately. Filthy moans and cries pour from your lips as you cover Eddie with your wet pussy.

“Gonna cum.. Eddie I’m gonna cum.” you cry out, feeling his hands on your ass, helping you as you practically hump is face. Eddie’s moans are audible even with his mouth working hard to bring you to your peak.

Your voice cracks, a strangled moan forcing its way from your throat as you feel your body let go. All the built up tension breaking free, leaving your body in a way you didn’t expect.

You hips jolt against Eddie’s face a few more times as he does his best to lap up your cum. You can feel it running down your ass, a sticky sweet mess.

Your back falls back to the bed, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you struggle to catch your breath. You feel Eddie’s tongue cleaning up your mess, his lips kissing the insides of your thighs before pressing one last kiss to your swollen clit.

“Holy shit.” you giggle as he comes back up to meet your eyes.

“Feel better?” he grins, his face glistening from his job well done.

“So much better.” you breathe, pulling him in for a kiss, tasting yourself all over his tongue. “And thank you, baby.”

“For what?” Eddie murmurs as he buries his face in your neck.

“For always grounding me.”

“I love you, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I love you so much, Eds.” you smile up at him. “By the way, I’m telling all your friends you fucked me to Marvin Gaye.”

“You wouldn’t.” Eddie gasps dramatically, narrowing his eyes at you.

“Oh but I would.”

[thedevilsfamiliar]

Me: petition to do art on the high way pillars and to start community gardens in my city, it would bring beauty to the city.

That one freak in my comments: my tax dollars won’t fund this >:V petition denied!

Me: who said anything about tax dollars— it could be a community event, there’s such thing as volunteers too.

Same freak: oh so we’re now going to try and feed the poor? You’re going to want to make homes for them too?

Me:… yes? Why is the right of shelter a foreign concept to you? People shouldn’t be homeless.

Same Freak: you’ve become too liberal you used to be different

Me: what are you on??? Just because I don’t usually vocalize my stances doesn’t mean I was ever conservative

[crazylittlejester]

Warriors prepared himself for Twilight to die and still isn't over it, an analysis by me

I wrote a ton of analysis posts going into further detail on how uncharacteristically down Warriors was acting in nearly every update since Twilight was first injured, so I'm not going to do super in depth on the stuff prior to the most recent arc, but to recap:

(art cred @/linkeduniverse from Sunset 13)

When Twilight was talking about how he could literally feel himself dying, Wars was like the only one who wasn't horrified, he looked accepting in a way. He's a soldier, he fought in a war, he's very used to death. He tried to keep everything together and help the others as best as he could, and I'm just making an assumption that there was a lot he did behind the scenes to help care for the others when Time was with Twilight and Hyrule in Sunset 14. We see Warriors smile and joke around in Dawn 2 when he sees Twilight is okay, but it seems like followig this initial relief he's a bit more down than usual, he also seems a little tired

(Dawn 3)

The Dawn arc really brought out a much different side of him than we'd seen before, he had lower energy and while previously he'd been screwing around and cracking jokes, we saw him tell Legend and Hyrule in Dawn 7 to stop poking fun of Sky and stop interrupting, which was something he himself had literally done in Regroup

and while Warriors does go back to acting more like himself towards the end of the Dawn arc into where we are now, he sticks VERY close to Twilight in like every update since

I mean he was even the one to bring him his horse in Dawn 9

And in today's update, Central Room 2, him telling Time his whole plan really just seems like HE'S the one who desperately needs to keep an eye on Twilight:

Wars, sweetheart... "If you're that concerned, I could keep an eye on him" king it's okay to be worried about your friend, promise 😭

I just think he really really prepared himself for Twilight to die so that he'd be able to keep himself together and help the others grieve and now that Twilight's NOT dead he's a Bit worried about him, because it's probably hitting him now how terrifying the whole situation was. Like yeah he knew it was bad, that's why he's so stressed out about Wild and is being a bit overprotective of him, but I think the EMOTIONS and the stress are starting to hit him, but he can't suddenly let it slam into him so he's trying to play it off like "it's okay Time i'll watch the rancher" as if he ALSO can't leave Twi alone for two seconds. He's just as bad as Time is lmao

anyways this is all just my opinion i just wanted to share my thoughts, hes my special guy 🫶

[jksprincess10]

His hand so calloused from his pistol softly traces hearts on my face || Joel Miller x reader

Summary: Tommy hires a new ranch hand behind Joel's back and he's not happy about it.

CW: jackson era, rancher!joel and helper!reader, mean!joel, perv!joel, unhinged and bold!reader, lots of banter, mentions of parent death, alcohol, masturbation, smut, dry humping, unprotected p in v, fingering, daddy kink, degradation kink, lots of pet names (baby, etc.), big cock joel miller, lots of dirty talk, some fluff and feelings, no y/n, multiple POVs. (2.8k words)

A/N: Special thanks to @fhatbhabiee for proofreading, @notjustjavierpena for the beautiful banner, @saradika-graphics for the dividers.

“The hell is this?!” Joel’s fists are closed against his hips, his head cocked to the side as he looks at what Tommy has brought into his home, another lost sheep.

“This is your new helper.” His younger brother gestures towards you and you look at the older man, an eyebrow raised in defiance. It wasn’t the warm welcome you had expected. “Maria’s about to pop out any day now, so I hired someone to take my place in the ranch.”

“You think a lil’ girl can help me?” Joel looks down at you, his steel gaze analyzing your reaction. But Tommy cuts you off before you can say anything.

“Don’t be a sexist ol’ prick. She has experience and took care of animals in her previous community.”

“And I’m not a little girl.” You add, detaching every syllable. “Shall we try that again? You must be Joel.” You tell him your name, and he takes your extended hand in his calloused palm, squeezing it stronger than necessary.

“Nice to meet you.” He grumbles.

“So, where’s my room?”

“Your… room?” Joel asks, his murderous gaze pinning Tommy down.

“Listen, she just got here. It’s temporary. Give ‘er a room, feed her and she’ll work for you for free.”

“I sure fuckin’ hope so.” Joel mutters.

How dare he bring this pretty young woman into his home without asking him before? The worst part is, you’re hard working. Every day, you get up at the crack of dawn to feed the cows and the sheep. You’re stronger than you look. And sometimes, you cook for him too, and he hates admitting that you’re good. You’re too fucking young, too fucking good looking and he shouldn’t be looking at you like that. He shouldn’t be fucking his fist every night since you arrived with your name dying on his chapped lips.

Joel joins you in the barn to see if you’re working well. You are, of course, milking one of the cows; your knees in the mud, pulling on the cow’s udders.

“When you’re done, put the milk into glass bottles and bring ‘em inside… We can trade ‘em.” Joel orders, then clears his throat. “D’ya… need anythin’?”

When Joel doesn’t bark out orders, he’s silent. It’s the first time in a week he’s shown any care for your well-being.

“Hm… clothes for the cold months coming would be nice.” You finish milking the cow and get up. You look at your ruined pants and sigh. “Yeah… clothes would be nice.”

“Sure thing, kiddo.”

You cringe at the nickname. “Thanks, Joel. But stop calling me that.” You can’t look at him, and you simply pet the giant, but soft beast who moos in response. You chuckle and turn to Joel. You pretend for his sake that you don’t hear him on the other side of the wall every night, wet noises mixed with heavy pants. You pretend you don’t do the same. “I’m closer to 30 than to 20.” You watch as he swallows heavily.

Still, 26 years is a big age gap, and Joel curses in his head as he hears you confirm your age.

“Right, but I’m 56. You’re jus’ a kid to me. I could be your dad.”

“I’m a woman. Treat me like one.” You respond firmly. He sees how worked up that gets you, how your body is facing him with your fists tight like you’re keeping yourself from hitting him.

Joel sighs and stays silent for too long, leaving with a last glance at you and another order. “Be ready in 10. We’re goin’ downtown to get you clothes. Be late, and I’ll go without ya.”

You’re fuming, and you want to curse the man’s ancestors, but you stay silent, obedient. You pack the milk harvest of the day: 3 good bottles, that would only need to be filtered before consumption. You go into your room to put on your only clean pair of jeans, and join Joel at the front, where he’s stoically waiting, big, stupid strong arms crossed against his chest, the sleeves of his flannel pulling against his muscles. You stomp to him with a box of milk in hands, and he chuckles, the asshole chuckles –

“Listen, asshole – ” You push the box into his arms, and he takes it effortlessly, an amused grin on his face. “I don’t know if you’re just sexually constipated or what, if so, please for the love of God, get fucking laid, but you don’t have to be mean to me all the time. Just because I’m young or because you don’t want me here or…. You know what? I had a dad, he’s fucking dead. You’re not my father, move on. Treat me like a fucking person.”

One of his eyebrows lift, and he looks at you for a few seconds, before asking: “You done?”

“No. Tell me you’ll stop being an ass or I’ll go find someone more annoying than me to replace me.”

“Fine. I’ll treat you like a woman and a person.”

“Thank you for the bare fucking minimum. Let’s go, cowboy.” You say between your teeth.

Your walk from the ranch to downtown Jackson calms you down. Everyone else is too nice for you to stay mad.

“S’here.” He points at the storefront with a sign that reads clothing and repair services. You go in with him, a soft bell announcing new guests. There are a few racks with seasonal clothing, a few different sections clearly identified: for children, women and men. Joel brings the milk up to the counter and the owner gives him five coupons in exchange.

“You can get five things.” Joel tells you as he hands you the coupons.

“But…. Don’t you need anything?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Okay…”

You look around while Joel waits at the counter. You find two sweaters your size, two pairs of pants and some underwear (that were on “sale” for 3 for 1 coupon). You give your coupons to the owner, she counts your items and tells you that you’re good to go.

Weeks pass, where Joel really tries to be nicer to you after your little meltdown. He doesn’t call you kiddo anymore – thank God – but you sometimes feel his gaze linger. You both try to stay away from each other – why would you fuck your new boss - because truth is, you find him very attractive despite his ill manners. But seeing Joel every day in the most domestic of settings lights something inside of you – a profound want and… affection.

In some rare occurrences, you have fun together. There are a few people in your backyard – Tommy, some townies you met through Joel, Ellie, Joel’s adoptive daughter who had moved away with her girlfriend. You’re settled around a bonfire to shield your bodies from the cold. Joel has a guitar on his lap, and his face has a pleasant glow from the beers you shared. You’re sitting between him and Tommy.

“Hope the old man’s treating you well.” Tommy jokes, a dig at his older brother.

“Surprisingly well. Well, after he stop treating me like a fucking kid.” You snort.

“Yeah, he tends to do that.” Ellie concedes.

“Stop talkin’ about me like I ain’t here.” Joel grumbles.

“You just had to be nicer.” You grimace.

“Had to see if you were a good worker ‘fore.”

“Am I?”

Your shoulders brush, and you smile innocently at him.

“Guess so.”

That’s the closest thing from a compliment you’d get.  You call it a night shortly after, but everyone seems determined to spend the night outside.

You wake up in the middle of the night to a door closing, so you decide to get up for a glass of water. You pad silently on the cold wooden floor, only wearing your panties and an oversized long-sleeved shirt. You almost jump out of your skin when you see Joel sat on his favorite chair in the living room, knees spread like he owned the world. He had a half empty beer in hand.

“Didn’t mean to wake you up, sweetheart.” His voice is rough. He looks up at you, eyes tracing your curves through your shirt, focusing on your bare legs, on your nipples peaking through your shirt. You self-consciously wrapped your arms around your torso.

“S’okay…” You go into the kitchen to get a glass of water. You could still feel Joel’s gaze on you, since the house was open-floored.  “Hm, Joel?”  You suddenly felt bold, maybe it was the remaining alcohol in your system.

“Yeah?”

“Why do you masturbate every night when I’m right here?” You sip on your water as you walk back calmly to where Joel sat. “Why don’t you fuck me, huh?”

Joel’s face burns with shame, and you smile when you realize you were right.

“You’re way too young and pretty for me, darlin’.” He leaves his bottle on the table next to him, and he pinches the bridge with a long sigh. “And you’re workin’ for me.”

“Let me be clear, Joel.” Your glass joins his bottle, and you lean towards him, your legs between his, your arms around his neck. “I like you. I want you. Please. Let me have you.”

Joel’s breath comes out shaky, and his rough hands grab onto your shirt. “Tried so hard to make you hate me, so this wouldn’t happen.”

“You succeeded for a while.” You smile sweetly, your fingers treading in the curls on the back of his neck.  “You’re very hot, Mr. Miller. I won’t beg again.” Your breath fans his dry lips.

“Okay. Okay.” Joel pulls you down even more, and you’re almost falling on his lap as his lips crash on yours. It’s hungry and angry, desperate. He’s angry at himself, you know it, but you don’t want his shame. The older man tastes like beer and smells like fire. Your teeth pull on his bottom lip.

“I do the same thing, Joel. I fuck my fingers every night while I imagine yours.” You whisper against his lips after a chaste kiss to his swollen bottom lip.

Joel groans and drags you down. You sit comfortably on his lap, feeling the rough tent in his jeans.

“Le’me see you.” He sounds more confident now as he pulls on your hem and lift your shirt over your head. You like his heavy gaze on your breasts, his calloused fingers pulling on your nipples to make them harder. You sigh happily and thrust your hips against his hard cock. He feels so big, but you’re confident you could take all of him.

“Y’wanna rut against my cock like a bitch in heat, huh? Go ahead, sweet girl. Make yourself wet for daddy.”

You didn’t think Joel had such a dirty mouth on him, but you obey. You rub your wet panties against the large bump in his jeans. The rough texture of the used fabric pleases you, but you need more. You clumsily remove your panties and abandon them on the floor. Joel, in a trance, admires your pussy. His fingers barely touch you, and you’re already panting.

“S’all fo’ me, huh? D’you need help?”

You nod enthusiastically.

“Words, baby.” He pressed, his free hand holding your chin up.

“Touch me, daddy. Please.”

“Suddenly so polite and sweet.”  Two of Joel’s fingers circle your clit as you keep desperately moving your heat against his jeans, your mouth falling open in a silent moan. Pleasure builds rapidly in your core, and you’re thrusting your hips even harder, until you come in a moan.

“That’s it, that’s it.” He soothes. “C’me here.” He holds you in his arms strengthened by years of manual labor and lifts you up as he gets up. You wrap your legs around him. “M’not done with you, but I want you to be comfortable.”

He brings you to his bedroom, which you had never seen fully. Only glimpses here and there. Somehow, it felt more intimate. He drops your body on his large bed.

“How are you still wearing clothes?” You complain, and he chuckles.

“So eager, aren’t ya?” Joel starts undressing, still on his feet by the bed. He only leaves his boxers on, and you try to see him in the dark. You decide to rely on your touch instead, when he takes the spot between your legs. Your fingers trace his strong back, finding scars here and there. You kiss him, softly this time.

“Need to get you ready fo’ me,”

“Yes, please.”

His calloused hands spread your legs more, before he inserts one of his thick fingers in. You tighten around him, it already feels like he’s stretching you out.

“Relax baby.”

You breathe, in and out, slowly relaxing your walls at the same time.

“That’s it, le’me in.” He thrusts it in and out a few times, before adding another finger. He uses his thumb to caress your clit, soothing the pain through another wave of pleasure.

“F-Fuck, Joel. That’s so much.”

“I know baby, you’re doin’ so well. Jus’ let go.”

He fucks you hard and fast with his fingers, pressing on your swollen clit with his thumb. You’re moaning and thrashing through your second orgasm of the night, and Joel’s looking at you intently, his free hand caressing the lump in his boxers.

“Need to fuck ya now. Can you take it?” His fingers leave you empty, and he soothes you with a kiss on your forehead.

“Yes. Give it to me, please.”

He pulls down his boxers and throws them away. You watch in awe as his girth jumps out. He holds the base and swirls the fat head against your wetness, making you jump a little, still sensitive.

“So wet fo’ me.”

He aligns the head of his cock with your hole and pushes in slowly. You let out a breath after the big tip has breached your entrance.

“That’s only the tip. More?”

You nod your head a few times. “I want everything.”  You’re so scared this will be the only time you can have him like this, bare and desperate.

He thrusts in, feeding you his cock as slow as he can bear. You hold on to him.

“You’re so big, Joel.” You whine.

“I know baby I know.” Joel kisses you lazily and sensually, stopping his movements when his hips are flush with yours. He waits until you move on your own, and he thrusts in and out with your help, still slow and careful. Your eyes roll in the back of your head, you had never felt better in your life.

“Faster.”

He listens, snapping his hips faster and harsher, but he can’t seem to be able to fuck you as hard as he wants in this angle. He suddenly leaves you empty and grabs your hips to turn you around, your ass in the air.

He thrusts in before you’re even ready, and the angle is perfect.  He fucks you hard and fast, the sound of his hips snapping against your ass and your pants fill his bedroom. The line between pleasure and pain is so thin, but you love the way he lets himself go. His big balls hit your clit a few times, and you’re crying of pleasure. You hold on to his silky sheets and to the solid, wooden headboard as he pounds into you.

“Gimme ‘nother one, c’mon.” He urges you through gritted teeth. “Come on my cock.”

He slows down to catch his breath, fucking you deep and hard, and one of his hand sneaks to the front of your body, teasing your tits with expert hands. Your pleasure builds in your tummy, before the pressure releases, and you come hard around his cock.

“Atta girl.” He praises, breath heavy. You feel him move away, and you turn around just in time to see him pumping his cock a few times, until he comes in any piece of fabric he can find – which ends up being his boxers.

You lay down on his bed, all members spread as you catch your breath with a dumb smile on your lips. You couldn’t believe you were just fucked by Joel Miller.

“I never came so much in my life, God.” You whisper in amazement, a hand against your sweaty forehead.

Joel chuckles and you hear his steps moving away from the room, but he isn’t gone for too long. He comes back with a warm, wet cloth, which he uses to soothe your swollen pussy, and clean himself up. He climbs into bed with you, and you hope he doesn’t ask you to go back to your room. Ever.

You’re both laying on your side, facing each other. Joel lifts the blanket over you and lays his palm against your warm cheek.

“M’glad Tommy hired you behind my back.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Stay. I like you.”  He adds after clearing his throat. You smile and bring his palm to your lips to kiss it.

“I like you too. I won’t leave, if you want me to stay.” You assure him.

“Good.” He says as he closes his eyes.  “Sleep, you’re workin’ early tomorrow.”

“You’re the worst.” You mumble as he chuckles weakly.

[imsofreakingtired]

Hiii I love ur writing 💕 and I was wondering if u had any cowboy sevika hcs :)

anon i know you asked for headcanons but my maladaptive brain took me elsewhere-

destined to meet again

artist: @/olgasnoww on twitter

content warning(s): set in a wild west au; some au-typical violence (masc fem reader, but ambiguously described)

"it's been a shining star, it's been a blue sky gonna tell you something 'bout my story."

~~~

Dusk was falling, and the salon was still and nearly empty. The hot, dry air was putting everyone in a stupor, and the wind whistled a lonely song across the brittle grass and sweeping sand. 

With a bang, the doors of the salon swung open violently. Heads snapped toward the noise. Standing in the doorway was a tall figure in a dusty red cape. She wore a wide brimmed hat with a bandanna covering half her face. Peering over the cloth flashed steely grey eyes. 

Immediately, the three men sitting at the front table jumped up, pistols pointed at the stranger. 

It happened in a heartbeat. The cape whipped aside, a glint of the revolver, three gunshots. The men lay dead. 

The stranger sauntered over to the bar, where the barkeep stood quaking in terror. She sat down, tapped the table lazily with her right hand. Then she pulled down the mask. 

If he didn’t know it from the moment she walked into the salon, the barkeep knew he was a dead man now. The silver lined scars webbed over the left side of the stranger’s face were recognizable to every single person living in this side of the West, from the old men in their banks to the little children who heard of those scars as bedtime stories to scare them into good behavior. Rumor had it that she had tattooed the silver along her very scars, to bear them as a trophy and a warning to strangers. It matched the grey in her eyes. Many a rancher who survived an encounter with her weren’t able to recall those cold grey eyes without a shudder. 

The barkeep’s throat went dry. 

Sevika Jain—the Brute of the West—was in town. 

She gestured to the bottles lining the pantry. With shaking hands he poured her a drink, which she tipped back. As he refilled the glass, she looked over at the bodies on the floor. 

“Hope they got a chance to tell their wives they loved ’em,” she mused with a dry chuckle. Her voice was deep and smooth, as if she held the wind of the west in her lungs. “Isn’t that right, Chuck?”

The barkeep’s heart quailed with loathing. “You ain’t got a heart in that chest of yours,” he said furiously, despite the sweat staining his underarms. 

She just laughed again. 

A door banged shut in the back of the salon. The barkeep heard this, and took renewed courage. “In trouble now, aren’t you?” 

She swirled the whiskey in the glass. “What makes you think that?” 

“You wouldn’t have come crawlin’ back to this town if you weren’t in some pinch. Your men finally walked, didn’t they?” 

Idly, she pulled aside her cape, and for the first time revealed the infamous mechanical arm. As it gleamed in the fading light, the barkeep shrank back. It was a sinister contraption imitating the shape of a human arm, except there was a shining revolver in the place of where the hand should have been. It was this arm that rippled terror throughout the west. The arm that earned her her titles. 

“S’long as I got her, there’s nothin’ but the devil that can bring me to the ground.” 

She downed the second drink. Wiping her mouth with the back of her human hand, she glanced at the barkeep. “I got a meeting with your mayor.” 

He gave her a nervous jeer. “You’ll get it in prison where you belong.” 

The revolver clicked. “No,” she said. “I’ll get it now.” 

Outside the salon, a voice thundered, “You’re done for, Jain!” 

Sevika turned around. She could hear hooves pawing the dusty ground outside the door. She stood and walked slowly out the doors, and found herself face to face with a half circle of six armed men, the sheriff at the center. 

“Hands where I can see ’em!” He barked at her. 

She raised her right hand, brought it to her shoulder, and ripped off the cape. Before they knew what was happening, she raised her left arm to the signboard of the salon and shot it off. It crashed to the ground with a billow of dust. The sheriff and his men began shooting, and Sevika disappeared into the salon. They charged after her. 

Glasses shattered and tables cracked and splintered under the feet of the horses as they galloped through the salon. Sevika jumped over the bar counter for cover, turned around, and took out three of the six men in a single line of shots. Then she turned her revolver to the liquor bottles lining the shelf and shot them through, drenching the place with alcohol. With a spark from her gun she lit up the table. 

A rush of flames and smoke overwhelmed the place. Gunshots fired at random, bullets whistling over the crackle of burning wood. By the time they had made it out of the wreck, a horse from the salon stable was missing, and Sevika was nowhere to be seen. 

☆

You stood in front of the mirror in your bedroom, inspecting your reflection. You had just taken a bath to clean the smell of sex and cigarette smoke off your skin. Your poor mayor father, running the town and living the height of propriety, could never know that his daughter was running off every other night to meet her girls at Red’s House of Sin. 

Visits to Red’s always left you winded and a little bored. The initial thrill was ebbing away, and you knew the day was drawing closer and closer when your father would attempt to marry you off to the stuffy old doctor in town. You were thirsting for a way out, one way or another—out of this town, away from the miles and miles of dusty canyons and sharp toothed hares. 

You mused over the rumors you heard at Red’s tonight—the place was buzzing with talk of some notorious outlaw having been spotted on the plains. What was the alias? The Brute? Some of the girls claimed that they’d had her once or twice before, but when you pressed them they insisted they couldn’t remember what she looked like. All they knew was that she had a fearsome scar on her face and a gun for a left arm. And that she was as handsome as the devil. 

You snorted at that. There was room for only one handsome woman in town. 

Suddenly, you heard your window shatter and a muffled curse. You whirled around. A tall, muscular figure hoisted herself clumsily over the windowsill and sank down to the floor with a loud groan. The right sleeve of her shirt was bloody, the left sleeve—wasn’t there. In its place was a mechanical arm ending with a shining silver revolver. You stared at her. She looked up at you and raised an eyebrow in mock surprise. Her crooked lips curled into a smirk, she reached up and tipped her hat at you.

~~~

a/n: this has, quite against my best wishes, ballooned into an idea for a whole ass fic so umm,, to be continued 😭