#horse truck pl

[v2rremorqueoudalle]

Trouvez votre camion d'occasion en France avec V2R Remorque Oudalle

Lorsqu'il s'agit d'acquérir un camion d'occasion en France, il est essentiel de trouver un partenaire de confiance pour répondre à vos besoins professionnels ou personnels. Chez V2R Remorque Oudalle, nous mettons tout en œuvre pour offrir à nos clients une expérience d'achat fiable, personnalisée et économique.

Pourquoi choisir un camion d'occasion ?

Acheter un camion occasion france présente de nombreux avantages, notamment :

Coûts réduits : Les camions d'occasion sont nettement moins chers que les modèles neufs, ce qui permet de faire des économies importantes.

Disponibilité immédiate : Contrairement aux véhicules neufs qui peuvent nécessiter un délai de livraison, les modèles d'occasion sont souvent disponibles sur le champ.

Fiabilité éprouvée : Les camions d'occasion vendus par des professionnels comme V2R Remorque Oudalle sont rigoureusement inspectés pour garantir leur bon fonctionnement.

L'engagement de V2R Remorque Oudalle

Situé à Oudalle, V2R Remorque Oudalle est une référence incontournable dans le domaine des camions d'occasion en France. Notre objectif est d'offrir à nos clients des véhicules adaptés à leurs attentes et à leur budget, sans compromis sur la qualité. Voici ce qui nous distingue :

Un large choix de camions d'occasion

Chez V2R Remorque Oudalle, nous proposons une vaste gamme de camions d'occasion, allant des petits utilitaires aux poids lourds. Nos modèles couvrent différents secteurs d'activité : transport, bâtiment, logistique, et bien plus encore. Chaque camion est sélectionné avec soin pour répondre aux normes de qualité les plus strictes.

Des inspections rigoureuses

Avant de proposer un camion d'occasion à la vente, notre équipe d'experts procède à une inspection complète et minutieuse. Nous vérifions les aspects mécaniques, électroniques et esthétiques du véhicule afin d'assurer une performance optimale.

Un accompagnement sur mesure

Nous comprenons que chaque client a des besoins uniques. Notre équipe dédiée est à votre écoute pour vous aider à choisir le camion qui correspond le mieux à vos exigences. Que vous soyez un entrepreneur ou un particulier, nous vous guidons tout au long du processus d'achat.

es services complémentaires

Outre la vente de camions d'occasion, V2R Remorque Oudalle propose également des services annexes, notamment :

La reprise de vos anciens véhicules

Des solutions de financement adaptées

Un service après-vente réactif

Comment nous trouver ?

Notre siège est stratégiquement situé à Oudalle, en Normandie. Vous pouvez consulter notre site internet pour découvrir nos modèles disponibles ou nous rendre visite directement pour voir nos camions en personne. Nos conseillers se feront un plaisir de vous accueillir et de répondre à toutes vos questions.

Pour plus de détails, vous pouvez nous rendre visite :

camions chevaux

Camions chevaux d'occasion

transport cheval prix

[starscabaret]

Cowboy Yandere! Lane HeadCanons ✧.*

pairing : yandere! lane x fem reader 

summary :

authors note : i hope yall enjoy pls lmk

warnings : nsfw, breeding, pregnancy, daddy kink 

yandere! lane is a country boy through and through…he eats as much as a prize bull, making him damn near the size of one. Due to his hard labor, he is the perfect blend of muscles and fluff. He is the size kink king.

yandere! lane cannot be convinced to wear a condom or use protection no matter what stage of the relationship y’all are in. He wants a football team of kids and you will have them all.

yandere! lane also won’t wear a condom because the idea of anything separating him from his darling’s insides is infuriating. 

yandere! lane is a true dom, he values your pleasure more than anything. 

yandere! lane size comes into play when he’s pounding your pussy from behind. He tries to hold himself up and not squish you underneath him but somehow his chest always ends up pressed to your back. His arm around your tummy pulling your smaller body onto his cock as he continues his pounding. You couldn’t escape him if you wanted

yandere! lane never suppresses his guttural moans and groans from you. He doesn’t know how to be quiet but neither do you…

yandere! lane lives by the phrase ‘save a horse ride a cowboy’. When you’re on top of him he’s using his hips and hands to bounce you silly on his dick. Or he’s guiding your hips in just the right back-and-forth motion. 

yandere! lane washes his hands of all dirt and grime the second he enters the house, because right after he is going to find you and pick you up for a kiss. “Missed me Dollface? Daddy missed you.”

yandere! lane has rough hard days sometimes. If he’s too tired to fuck you silly he loves to pull you on his lap, lift your legs, and mindless play with and finger your cunt. Your back to his chest his large form looming over you with his chin resting on your shoulder. “Mhm good girl darling, too tired to fuck you properly, but what kind of man would I be if I didn’t pleasure my sweet girl every day?”. He definitely has just gotten off work, still clad in his jeans, hat, boots, and a black t-shirt. 

yandere! lane does not like to see you beg. He’s too soft and believes his darling shouldn’t want for anything, he is very willing to give you anything and everything that you want. Especially his mouth on your pussy.

yandere! lane will fuck you any and everywhere if you let him, god do you look so plump and round in a pair of blue jeans, but those long tight skirts are his favorite. The way they look when it’s pooled around your waist as he plows into you in the back of his truck drives him insane.

yandere! lane prefers that you have most or all of your pubic hair, his pussy just looks so cute with its little bush.

yandere! lane will not pull out no matter how hard you beg and squeeze his bicep, what’s the point of cumming, if it’s not in you?

yandere! lane when he finally gets you pregnant is the happiest man on earth, kiss your job bye bye the day you pee on that stick. You often catch him admiring every part of your body. Below your pregnant belly, he watches intently as his dick slides in and out splitting your perfect cunnie in half. Thinking about how it was just like this he bred you the first time. 

[almostempty]

right kind of dream (joel miller x f!reader) part one

wc: 12.5k | other fics | rating: 18+ | read on ao3 | PART TWO HERE

summary: rebuilding your life, chasing cans, and hitchin’ a ride to the rodeo with team roper joel

to my pedrostories secret santa recipient @katiexpunk: this was a challenge for ya gurl to be srs (and it’s not a tentacle gangbang, i lied in ur asks babe i’m srry) i hope i hit the mark on a handful of the prompts though, i had high hopes that i could really challenge myself and deliver some breeding kink cowboy but i fear it’s more of a creampie kink—i hope that still hits, i have horse knowledge, but only rodeo adjacent experience so if any rodeo queens find glaring mistakes pls forgive me — but happy holidays bb, i really hope you enjoy-- EDIT: I MADE IT TOO GIRTHY (or something?? sorry!!) and had to split it into two parts, the second part will be up and linked as asap as possible, and i'll add the full text to ao3 so it'll be in one spot

tags: modern cowboy joel au/ team roper joel and tommy, no sarah, enemies to lovers, dbf lite, choose your own age gap, small town romance, city girl returns to the country, miscommunication, guilty yearnful joel, horsegirl!joel, smut, ridin’ that cowboy bareback as the good lord intended, no beta–mistakes are my fault for writing at 4am 

thanks: to @syd-djarin, @auteurdelabre, @lovely-vamp-princess for support, eyes, ideas, etc.

The sun beats down on the gravel driveway as you pull your truck toward the old house. It looks almost the same as it did the summers you spent here as a kid when it was your grandparents–the peeling white paint on the porch railing, and the barn standing sturdy, but weathered further down the driveway. The fields stretched on as you rolled down the driveway, dotted with occasional wildflowers and critters dashing into the denser brush. 

The air blows warm through the window, same as you remember, but the weight of the memories feels different now. The summers used to feel endless here, the fields seemed endless, as did the sky. It all used to feel so liberating. It’s not an endless summer now. Everything looks smaller and more weathered. 

Except for the shiny white PVC fences on the other side of the driveway and the modern-looking house and barn built on the same soil you used to spend hours patrolling with your pony, Clover. She’d search for the best bits of grass as you laid across her back coming up with stories—some days you were an old-timey cowgirl traveling west or Clover was a wild horse you were training or you were on a quest to a magical kingdom together. 

But now it’s a new home for whoever bought up the parceled land your dad sold to cover the updates on the house when he inherited it. Someone with enough money for a fancy barn and shiny truck. You pull to a stop and hop out of the cab, still scanning the neighbor's property, making your first impression. 

Your dad emerges from the barn, wiping his hands on a faded rag. He gives you a smile and a nod. “About time you showed up,” he calls, his voice warm and teasing. “Thought maybe you had changed your mind.” 

You shake your head softly, rolling your eyes. “Nope. Nothing worth staying in that city for.” 

The gravel crunches under your boots as you round the bed to grab one of your boxes. All your belongings fit into a few boxes. At least, everything that mattered to you, everything that was still you. “Where do you want this?” You wonder how you’re going to manage living in the same house with your dad now that you’re an adult. 

“Just set it inside,” he said, gesturing to the house. “We’ll get you sorted after we have something to eat.” 

As you followed him toward the house, the outline of the neighbor's property loomed large. The barn caught your eye. It was close. A pair of horses stood in the near pasture, swishing their tails in the afternoon heat. The contrast was stark. Where your dad’s place still carried the scrapes and scuffs of decades–theirs looked new and polished. Smug even. Can a house be smug? 

“The neighbors are closer than I thought.” You cross the porch, the nostalgic screen door squeaking as your dad ushers you inside. 

“Don’t mind it. We look out for each other.” He points to the room you stayed in as a kid. “He damn near built the place by himself, and helped me with the new roof on this place.” 

You shoot him a sharp look. “You said you were gonna hire roofers instead of climbing around up there at your age.” He shrugs you off. Always stubborn. Convinced he can do it better and cheaper. Despite the toll on his body. 

“Paid him to help,” he argues, “wasn’t up there by myself. You don’t gotta worry about me like that.” 

You set your box down at the end of the twin-size bed, the room falling quiet for a moment. Your dad stays planted in the doorway, but his brows pinch and lips purse briefly before he lets out a breath. You scan the room, gaze landing on the floorboards, waiting. 

Instead of addressing the elephant in the room, he says, “You hungry?” 

You grin at that, letting out a shaky breath. Your father’s daughter, neither of you likes to dig into your feelings. He taught you to show love through actions, like keeping you fed, taking on hard labor jobs without a complaint, or changing your windshield wipers before the rainy season starts and you’re cursing yours out. 

“Yeah,” you say, brushing past the knot in your chest. “Starving.” 

The rumble of a diesel engine jolts you awake the next morning, the deep growly sound reverberating through the walls like thunder on an otherwise quiet morning. You groaned, stretching and blinking blearily at the pale light filtering in through the old curtains. It was barely dawn yet, which explains the dull headache you’ve got. 

Sleep had been restless. Tangled thoughts, ruminating on what you’d left behind. A failed engagement, the job you hated, the mix of excuses you had rehearsed for why you’d come back. You’d hoped coming here would ease the ache, but just when you were finally falling back asleep—the truck from hell pulled up to the house. 

The engine is already cut off, but now you can hear voices on the porch. Your dad’s, low and steady, just a hum, and another unfamiliar drawl. Whoever it is, they’re carrying on like the rest of the world wasn’t still trying to wake up. 

You drag yourself out of bed, wearing your soft sleep shorts and a thin shirt. The worn fabric clings to your body in places it shouldn’t, but you’re not thinking about being presentable, you aren’t really thinking at all yet. You drag your feet crossing to the kitchen to pour yourself coffee, for a brief moment you miss the coffee shop you used to stop at on the way to your old job, but the familiar roast your dad’s been loyal to has its charm. Like the free coffee at an AA meeting. It’s there and you need something to keep you going. 

You push past the squeaky screen door, stepping out onto the porch. Your dad sits on the worn bench, coffee in hand. Next to him, leaning casually against the railing is a man you don’t recognize. His black Stetson gives him a classic cowboy silhouette, the morning sun catches on the sharp cut of his jaw and the scruff on his cheeks. His plaid shirt stretches across his broad shoulders, his jeans are worn and dusty in a way that speaks to more than just appearances. 

He straightens when he sees you, pulling his hat off with one hand in a fluid, effortless motion. “Mornin’,” he says, voice low and rich. “You must be the daughter. Joel Miller.” 

You take a sip of your coffee. “Morning,” you mutter, voice still thick from sleep. “You always roll up this early, or is today special?” 

Your dad shoots a look at you, but Joel just chuckles softly. 

“Guessin’ you’re not a morning person?”

Your eyes are narrow, defensive. “I’m just fine in the mornings,” you say in a clipped tone that doesn’t support your statement. “Just not when I’m woken up by a jet engine at the asscrack of dawn.” The chill in the brisk morning air causes you to shiver for a moment somehow making you look more irritated. 

Joel glances at your dad with a faint smirk before tipping his hat to you. “Noted.” 

Your dad laughs. “Should’ve heard her when she was ten,” he says leaning back. “Wouldn’t let anyone tell her what to do. Still doesn’t take shit from anyone I guess.” 

“I’m right here,” you mutter, glaring at him.

“Just sayin’,” your dad replies, raising his mug in mock surrender. He turns back to Joel and they resume their conversation about fence posts or something equally riveting. You let your eyes roam as you wake up, drinking the rest of your coffee, tuning in and out of their conversation about their plans for the day. 

The easy camaraderie between the two of them was clear. Like a friendship forged through shared labor and quiet mornings. They flow between their plans for work and that subtle gossiping that men do–convinced it isn’t really gossip–as they share updates about other folks in town and a few of the local businesses. 

“What about you?” Joel asks, turning to you and pulling you out of the fog. “You’re back for a while then?”  

It’s an innocent question, but it grates at you anyway. You stiffen. “Yeah, just taking some time,” you say vaguely. 

Joel raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push for a real answer. You can feel the weight of his curiosity in the air between you. He looks to your dad, who doesn’t elaborate, letting something unspoken pass between them. 

“Well,” Joel drawls, “good timing. Lot of work to do this time of year. If you’re up for it.” 

The comment makes you pull a face. “I’m familiar with hard work,” you reply, your voice sharper than intended. 

Joel’s lips quirk again, into something like a smirk this time. “I’m sure you are,” he says with the faintest edge of a challenge. 

He takes a long swig from his stainless steel travel mug, trying to fix his eyes on the horizon. But damn, if it isn’t a challenge to see you standing there, looking every bit like you’d just rolled out of bed. In a shirt too damn thin for a morning like this, leaving too little to the imagination. 

He knew he shouldn’t be noticing something like that, shouldn’t look at you like that–especially not while you’re standing next to your dad. Hell, he shouldn’t want to look at all, but his eyes betray him. Darting for just a moment to your soft curves and the evidence of the chill in the air–the impression of your stiff nipples protruding in the soft fabric. 

Christ. He swallows hard, landing his eyes back on the scowl you wear on your face. You’re his friend's daughter. It just ain’t right. Sweet young thing like you. He battles the devil on his shoulder that reminds him you aren’t a kid. You’re a woman. A grown woman with your own life and clearly your share of grit, if the sharpness in your voice was anything to go by. 

He shifts on his feet, forcing his attention back to your dad who was still chuckling softly at something. Joel didn’t catch the joke, head too full of thoughts about you–or how to not think about you. He could feel the warmth creeping up his neck, unsettling him in front of your dad. 

You and him made loose plans for the day while Joel’s mind continued to wander. He shouldn’t have asked about why you were back. Your answer was vague, brushing him off like it was a privilege he hadn’t earned. For some reason that lodged it in his head further. He wanted to know more, even if he shouldn’t. 

Your dad stood up, stretching and declaring that all of you have work to do. You take that as your cue to head back inside, leaving the screen door swinging behind you. Joel lets out a low breath, shaking his head as he turns back to your dad. 

“She’s a spitfire,” Joel comments, keeping his tone neutral.  

“She is,” your dad agrees, adjusting his hat. “Good to have her back.”  

Joel huffs a small laugh, “S’pose we could use a strong woman around here. Keep us in line.” 

“No doubt she will,” your dad says, clapping him on the shoulder. The whole exchange stuck with Joel though. Something under that edge of yours, something unpolished that has him curious in a way he isn’t used to. He shakes his head knowing it isn’t his place to go digging. 

Your dad starts down the front steps. “Let’s get moving, then.” Joel moves mechanically, boots falling in line with your dad’s, but his mind is half on you—in that t-shirt, with that scowl on your face, and that faraway look that he’d like to unravel. 

You were used to hard work but your muscles weren’t exactly dialed in for the functional conditioning. It was humbling as you found yourself aching and exhausted by the end of the night. However, the fatigue did make it easier to fall asleep once your head hit the pillow instead of spiraling on about your failures until the birds started chirping. 

The next few days gave you a jump start into the rural routine. In bed early, up before the sun. Hot showers before dinner to wash away the layer of sweat and sweet-smelling dust from the pine shavings and hay. You found yourself looking forward to the strong coffee and the cool morning air before you started with your day. 

Your dad, and Joel, learned quickly to let you wake up rather than ask questions as they caught up on their plans before heading out together or splitting up. You didn’t mind listening, but you could feel Joel’s eyes lingering on you now and then. It made your spine straighten, determined to hide the sore muscles in your shoulders from him. If he was waiting to hear a complaint from you it was never gonna come. 

Despite getting more rest and having an endless list of labor to keep you moving–you often found yourself working solo and in silence during the day. A silence that your mind was more than happy to fill. You rehashed memories and dissected those little moments from your relationship with your ex-fiance that you wish you had seen more clearly at the time. 

You’re deep in one of those memories, mindlessly stacking bales of hay onto the trailer for a delivery your dad is making tomorrow when Joel enters the other end of the barn. He leans against the door, arms crossed loosely over his chest, just watching you work. The warm scent of hay fills the air, grounding and everpresent in his life. 

It wasn’t anything remarkable, just a common chore he’d do without thinking twice. But watching you was a whole different story. Your shirt was damp with sweat as you leaned into the work like you’d done it your whole life. You climb up a stack of bales and toss down some from the top of the next row, unaware of his presence. 

He is mesmerized by you. The sharp look on your face like you were mulling over an argument, the fluid movements as you worked, and the determination radiating off of you as you worked at an urgent pace. 

His gaze drifts lower as you climb down and bend to heave another bale onto the flatbed trailer. The muscles in his jaw tense as he lingers on the curve of your back as you bend to grab another. The way your legs shift as you work. The outline of your body in that shirt, the soft grunt you let out as you hoist another bale had him thinking indecent thoughts before he could stop himself. 

Joel drags his hand over his face, fingers brushing his scruffy jaw. Heat burning within him that has nothing to do with the Texas sun transforms into irritation. He was considering copping out and disappearing before you even noticed him when he was outed by the damn barn cats. 

The orange cat comes sprinting towards him, but it’s the black and white one meow-yelling at him down the aisle that catches your attention. A dull thud echoes through the barn as you drop another bale and watch as Joel squats down to give the cats the attention they demand. You watch, catching your breath. He’s gentle with them, murmuring something you can’t hear before he stands and strolls toward you. 

“Afternoon,” he greets you in his deep baritone voice. Joel grabs the two-string bale of hay in front of you and drops it on the trailer with ease, grabbing another before you can interject. 

“I can handle it.” You huff as you resume your task. 

“Never said you couldn’t,” he replies smoothly, setting another down. “Thought it’d go faster with two sets of hands.” 

“I wasn’t in a hurry.” You eye him warily for a moment before slipping into a coordinated dance like it was natural. Tossing the rest that needed to be loaded up into the aisle for him to grab. You work in silence, just the sounds of hay shifting and boots scuffing against the barn floor. 

You break the silence first. “Dad says you and your brother hit the rodeo circuit in the summer. That true?” 

Joel huffs a soft laugh. “True.”

“You compete?”

“Team roping,” he says, his voice warming slightly. “Me and Tommy hit most of the circuits within a day's drive from here. Keeps us outta trouble.”

You roll your eyes. “Hard to picture you in trouble, cowboy.”

Joel’s smirk returned, faint but there. “You’d be surprised, sweetheart.” He matches your playful tone. 

His words linger as you work, stirring something you don’t quite know what to do with. Your mind drifts to the idea of rodeoing, the adrenaline of it, the discipline it demands. You forgot how much you missed it, how much you gave up chasing a life that didn’t pan out the way you hoped. 

Joel shifts beside you, the faint scrape of his boots pulling you back to the present. You glance at him, catching the way his shirt clung slightly to his back, the easy strength in the way he moves.

For a moment, the quiet feels comfortable. Easy. The steady rhythm fills the space. But eventually, Joel speaks again. 

“Your dad said you used to spend summers out here,” he says, in a low and easy tone. 

“Yeah,” you say, a little out of breath from the exertion. “When I was a kid.”

Joel brushes some loose hay off of his shirt. “Guessin’ it’s different now.” 

“Everything’s different now,” you mutter, more to yourself than to him. 

His brow furrows slightly. “What brought you back?” 

You hesitate, not looking him in the eye. You’re searching for an answer in the dust particles caught in a beam of sunlight. “Just needed time to…rebuild.” It’s still vague. 

“You runnin’ from something?” 

You tense at that, before covering it in sarcasm. “I’m not an outlaw,” you jest, earning you a small smile. He doesn’t press further, but you feel his eyes on you, steady, and patient like he’s waiting in case you offer more. 

“It’s not as simple as people make it sound,” you say finally, the words slipping out before can stop them. “Starting over, that is.” You sit on a bale and pull your work gloves off, running the back of your hand over your forehead smearing sweat and dust in a most unsatisfying way. 

“No, it ain’t,” he adds quietly. 

Something in his tone makes your chest tighten, but you ignore the sensation. “What about you? How’d you end up here?” 

“Had to start over myself, I reckon,” he muses, dusting off his hands before sitting down next to you. The words hang in the air, heavier than you expected. He doesn’t look at you, instead, he watches the cats play with a piece of baling twine. “This place made it easier—focusing on getting the house built and getting the business running. Your dad helped too.” 

That catches you off guard. “My dad?” 

Joel nods, finally meeting your eyes. “Just seemed to understand, I guess.” 

You stare at him. You’re disarmed by the softness in his tone. Like there’s more beneath the surface if you ask for it. 

Joel feels the air thicken. He takes in the way your sweat-damp shirt clings to you, and the heavy rise and fall of your chest. For a split second, an image flashes in his mind—your chest heaving for a very different reason, your skin flushed and shining. His throat tightens, and he looks away quickly, cursing himself for letting his thoughts slip. 

The cats weave between your legs, easing the silence. But the air between you still feels charged. Your thighs are nearly touching. The proximity feels overwhelming for some reason and you're suddenly caught up in the details of his profile as he stares down at the floor. The lines at the corner of his eye, his nose, his lips.

He clears his throat and slaps a palm on his thigh. “Well,” he starts, standing up rather abruptly. “Just came by to check-in. See how you’re settling in.” 

“What?” You frown. You miss the grimace that flashes on his face, your eyes drawn to the cats darting away from the two of you. “How I’m settling in?” 

“Yeah, you know…” he gestures vaguely around the barn and your brows furrow and your eyes sharpen at him. Irritation flickers behind your eyes. 

“I told you I’m not afraid of hard work,” you snap, jumping to your feet in front of him. 

“That’s not what I meant,” he grumbles, like you’re misunderstanding him. 

“Did my dad send you to ‘check in’ on me? Or did you want to see if I could keep up?” 

“It ain’t like that.” He says lowly. 

“Right.” You cut, crossing your arms. You’re over this rollercoaster of a conversation. Your eyes catch on the deep crease between his brows and the glint in his dark eyes. Something flares in your chest. You can’t tell if it’s indignation or something else entirely. “Then what is it?”

His jaw tightens, gaze locked with yours. Something unspoken flickers in his expression. But instead of answering, he straightens, stepping back. “Doesn’t matter,” he says curtly. 

Your stomach twists at the coolness of his tone, the connection you just felt snapping like a wire. 

“This was a mistake,” Joel mutters to himself. 

“What was?” you asked, your voice deadly quiet. 

Joel only shakes his head before striding toward the far door. His boots echo on the floor and the cats follow after him like shadows, their tails swishing as they dart out into the sun. Joel pauses in the doorway, glancing back with a look you don’t understand. 

“Don’t work too hard now.” His voice carries easily before he stalks off.

Your thoughts have you spinning. “The fuck is his problem?” you wonder out loud, sharp in the warm air. In the space he left. 

But deep down, you can feel the edge of something else. Something more than frustration, curling low and unwelcome in your chest. The weight of his gaze was still lingering, and try as you might, you can’t ignore the way his presence had pressed into every corner of the barn, or the faint scent of leather and bourbon that still hangs in the air. 

Your routine locks into place, and the days begin to pass in a blur. Joel stops by for coffee and acts like the conversation you had in the barn never happened. The stoic, gruff cowboy thing works just fine with you.

Except for the moments you catch him staring at you like he’s trying to find an answer to something he never asked.

If you’re honest, though, despite your hostility, you seem to catch yourself studying him with the same frequency and intensity. You’re loath to admit you catch yourself hung up on his obnoxiously broad shoulders, his arms sculpted from the physically demanding work, and that gravelly morning voice he has before he finishes his coffee.

Aside from whatever Joel’s problem with you is, everything else seems to be falling into place. You catch up on your dad’s list of projects. You pick up a part-time job at the feed store in town, keeping yourself too busy to have idle time and too tired to dwell on the past or the future. You get to know folks in the town while you work at the register.

The town seems smaller than it was when you were a kid, but there’s also a charm in the simplicity that you find comfort in. The regulars keep you up to date on the town gossip, and you’re laughing loudly with your boss, Linda, one day over a joke she’d never admit to teaching you when your neighbor struts up to you with a list in hand for a bulk feed order.

You’re cordial to him and the man at his side who gives you a flirty wink that has you raising your eyebrows in disbelief for a moment before you put it together. “You must be Tommy?”

He grins brightly and offers his hand. “And you must be the neighbor?” You give him your name and a polite smile. Your eyes flick to Joel, taking in his neutral expression. His hands rest in his pockets, but his posture is loose, his broad shoulders back in a way that draws your eye before you can stop yourself.

As you enter the details of their order into the prehistoric computer, Linda chats both of the men up, asking them about their horses and when their next rodeo is.

You give Joel his total and take his payment, trying not to roll your eyes when he doesn’t make eye contact with you. You’re ready for the interaction with him to be over when Linda puts you on the spot.

“This one’s been talking about looking for a project horse of her own.” She nods her head toward you. “You boys have any leads for her?”

You can feel your face heating up as they both look at you. It’s not like it was a secret, but you weren’t planning on making Joel privy to your plans. You still haven’t forgotten the way he said this was a mistake after having one conversation with you. Or the way he is always looking at you. Like you don’t belong here or something.

“I’ll do you one better,” Tommy says. “We’ve got a couple of colts just getting started under saddle. They could use the miles, and they’re real sweet-tempered if you wanna come by during the week.”

“Thanks, Tommy.” You give him a genuine smile. “I’m actually going to take a look at one that’s got potential this weekend. Marilyn from the post office said her cousin’s got a six-year-old quarter horse she’d sell for a steal.”

Joel lets out a dismissive laugh under his breath. “You mean that Hancock gelding? The blue roan?”

“Yeah.” You confirm, slowly growing more confused by the reactions on all of their faces. “Why?”

Linda’s mouth is hanging open like you said the devil was gonna sell you his horse. Tommy gives you a modest smile like you’ve told him two plus two equals eight, but he’s too polite to correct you. Joel’s expression remains unreadable, but the crease between his brows deepens.

“Am I missing something?” you ask, hoping for an explanation. You do not like feeling like you’re being played for a fool. 

“She’d sell that horse for a dime and a handshake,” Linda says. “Her cousin broke her jaw getting bucked off that horse. That’s why he’s been out to pasture ever since.”

You’re quiet for a beat before the familiar challenge and determination wrap around your heart. “Can’t hurt to look,” you say with a shrug.

“Hancocks are notoriously stubborn and broncy,” Joel adds, his tone low and edged with warning.

“They’re also incredibly smart, loyal, and full of try if you earn their trust and ask ‘em the right way,” you shoot back, meeting his eyes for just a moment too long. Why does it always feel like he thinks you’re out of your element? Does he think you’re incompetent? It only strengthens your desire to prove him wrong.

Joel’s mouth presses into a thin line, but his gaze doesn’t waver, and it stirs something uncomfortable low in your chest.

“So I’ve heard,” Tommy cuts the tension simmering between you and Joel. “Offer still stands if he doesn’t work out.”

“Thanks.” You pointedly direct your appreciation to Tommy, not looking back at Joel. “We’ll give you a call when the order’s in.”

They take that as their signal to move along. You think that would be the end of the drama for the day, but Linda’s got one more tidbit in store after the door closes behind the two men.

“God, those two are so hot it’s unbearable,” she sighs. It catches you off guard, and you blink at her. “Too bad they’re cowboy Casanovas.”

“What?” You give her a scrupulous look, shifting on your feet as she leans against the counter.

“Oh, yeah,” Linda says with a knowing smirk. “Every buckle bunny in a three-county radius knows those two. I hear they have a sign-up sheet at the trailer.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head, but the image comes unbidden—Joel, shirtless and panting, sweat glistening on his chest, his jeans slung low on his hips, every muscle taut as he leans over some woman. His gravelly drawl slides through your mind like warm honey as he murmurs something low and dirty, but you can’t make out the words. Your thought derails violently, and you scowl at yourself, heat rushing up your neck, but Linda’s still talking. 

“I’d stand in line for either of ‘em if I were single,” she adds with a shrug.

The image morphs into smug Joel tipping his hat, a self-satisfied grin on his face as some random woman climbs out of his bed. Your throat tightens unexpectedly, and you shove the thought away, scowling at the knot of irritation it leaves behind.

The trailer rocks faintly as you haul it slowly down the driveway toward the barn. Blue shifts inside, and the loud thud of him pawing at the floor, anxious to get out of the small space, echoes loudly in the driveway as you ease to a stop. You cut the engine and hop out of the cab, you can hear your dad’s boots on the porch steps before he’s striding toward you. “You actually brought him home, huh?” 

“You knew I would.” You grin. Your dad unlatches the trailer door and you slip past the divider to untie your new gelding and back him out of the trailer. Blue’s ears flick rapidly and he snorts like a dragon, wary of his unfamiliar surroundings, but you steady him with a calm voice and wait for him to drop his head before coaxing him backward. 

His hooves hit the solid ground and he blows out a sharp breath, shaking his neck to de-stress. “He’s gonna be perfect,” you say, running a hand along his neck. “Just needs someone who knows what they’re doing.” 

Your dad gives you a look that says he knows he couldn’t change your mind if he tried. His gaze flicks over Blue’s body, taking in his confirmation and conditioning, the scar on his back leg, the brand on his flank, and the stocky ranch horse build. “Linda said he’s got a bad reputation.” 

“Linda says a lot of things,” you shoot back, leading Blue toward the barn. “He was misunderstood. Had a rough start, that’s all. That girl who got bucked off never shoulda had him to begin with—not after he’d been out to pasture for so long. She was scared, and he felt it.” 

Your dad hums, the kind of sound that tells you he’s skeptical but not enough to argue. “Well, he’s in good hands now.” 

“And we both know I like a challenge,” you say with a steady voice, edged with something sharper. 

The sound of boots on gravel draws your attention and you glance back to see Joel strolling over from the direction of his property. His hat tipped low as his dark eyes flick between you and Blue. 

“Afternoon,” he calls, steady and smooth. 

Your dad turns and gives him a nod. “Joel.” 

“That the Hancock gelding?” 

“Yeah,” you reply shortly, adjusting Blue’s halter. 

Joel steps closer, his expression unreadable as he studies the gelding. Blue swishes his tail before shifting his weight, resting one back leg like he’s already starting to relax. Joel walks a circle around Blue, before pausing next to your dad. “Well-built,” he comments. “Is he sound?” 

You can barely hold back your eye-roll. “I had Barb meet me at the farm for a pre-purchase exam. Passed with flying colors.” You swallow down your irritation. Once again Joel thinks you’re a fool? That you’d go off and pick up a horse without a vet inspection?

Before you give Joel a piece of your mind you take a steadying breath, grounding yourself and whispering into Blue’s ear. “He might doubt both of us but he’ll be eating his fuckin’ words real quick once you and I get started.” With that, you turn away and lead Blue to the barn. 

Joel watches the two of you walk off, resting his hand on his hip. “She got a death wish or somethin’?” he grumbles.

Your dad crosses his arms, both men still watching the barn door where the two of you disappeared. “She’s tougher than she looks. And she’s got more patience than the two of us combined—for animals that is. Lord knows she’ll let us have it just for looking at her sideways.” 

Joel grunts, ignoring the heat crawling up his neck at the thought of you telling him off. “Hope you’re right.” 

“It’ll be good for her to have her own project. Haven’t seen that light in her eyes since she got here. S’about time she started moving on.” Your dad’s words eat at Joel. He still wants to know what you’re trying to rebuild from, but he doesn’t ask. Letting the silence stretch before your dad continues. 

“Plus, she’s got the right touch for it,” your dad drawls, tone laced with pride. “Always drawn to the ones that seem a little rough around the edges.” 

Joel doesn’t respond right away. His eyes narrow on the horizon, but his gaze flicks back to where you walked off, the sway of your hips lingering longer than it should. The deeply twisted interpretation of your dad’s words messing with his mind. 

In the barn, Blue seems less concerned about getting the lay of the land now that there’s food in front of him. He munches greedily, tearing hay out of the net tied in the stall. You’re buzzing with a mix of emotions, already imagining the next steps for the two of you. 

Your thoughts fall back on Joel and your dad, their low voices carrying faintly in the warm air. You can picture Joel still standing there, one hand on his hip, eyes fixed on you, that infuriatingly unreadable look expression he always has. 

Your chest tightens, heat rising in your cheeks as you lean against the stall door. You hate how Joel looks at you like that. Like he’s waiting for you to fuck up. To prove him right. Like he’s already decided you’re in over your head. 

“He doesn’t know me,” you mutter under your breath, “doesn’t know you,” you tell Blue, “doesn’t know shit.” 

Blue snorts softly, and you take that as his agreement, a smile tugging at your lips. 

Days blur into a steady rhythm—early mornings with Blue, afternoons at the feed store, and long evenings under the arena lights. Each ride sharpens your connection with him, his turns growing tighter, his strides more confident. Progress comes in small, steady victories, each one lighting a spark of hope in your chest.

One afternoon, when the sun hangs low in the sky, painting the fields with warm hues of orange and gold. From his spot near the fence of his own property, Joel leans one arm against the top rail, his black felt Stetson shading his eyes. Across the way, you’re working with Blue in the makeshift round pen. 

Joel can tell from the way you hold yourself that you’re tired. Your shoulders seem stiff and your jaw tense. But you don’t stop. Your voice carries in the breeze, warm and steady as you encourage Blue to make another pass. 

The horse resists, throwing his head and stomping at the ground, but you don’t flinch. You give him the space to settle before asking again. Joel’s lips twitch, with a hint of a smile. You’ve got grit. 

He can’t shake the feeling that you’re working off more than just the horse’s rough edges. You move with purpose and focus, but with a weight that doesn’t seem entirely about Blue. 

From where Joel stands, he can’t make out every detail, but it doesn’t stop his eyes from lingering. You draw his attention with a pull that he can’t resist.

Against his better judgment. He traces the line of your spine as you step forward, the way your hips shift when you pivot. He knows better than to look, knows it’s wrong, but he can’t stop himself. 

Blue gives in, his steps evening out as he settles into a steady rhythm circling you. Joel watches as you slow him to a halt. The tension in your posture releases and you reach out with ease and satisfaction to stroke Blue’s neck. 

That invisible pull between you draws your eyes to where Joel is standing. Your face hardens when you catch him observing your training session. He gives you a nod before pushing off the rail and heading into the barn. 

He catches glimpses of you working together in the mornings and evenings. He tries to stop himself from watching, but it’s useless. He catches himself inadvertently timing out his schedule to be able to keep an eye on you. Tells himself he wants to be sure someone’s keeping an eye on you in case something goes wrong. Or that he’s curious about your progress. 

He can admit he admires your perseverance and the skill you have. He would never admit the way he finds himself waking up hard and aching thinking about you and what it’d feel like to have your hips rocking on his lap instead of a saddle, your tits bouncing in his face, and your sweet blissed out smile. And when trudges up the steps of your porch in the mornings to see if your dad needs anything from town—he prays neither of you can see the remnants of his sins in his eyes. 

He can’t stop himself from trying to talk to you, though. One morning he asks straight up, “How’s the project horse coming along?” He tries to sound casual, averting his eyes as he sips his coffee. 

Your smile flickers, equal parts excitement and hesitation flashing across your face. “Good,” you say after a beat, sitting on the wooden bench. “He learns quick, got good stamina and drive.” 

Joel hums, tilting his head slightly. “He give you any trouble?” 

Your jaw tenses, though you try to hide it. “Nothing I can’t handle,” you reply, tightly. 

Joel nods. “Good,” he says simply, but he still looks at you, like there’s something else weighing on his mind. 

Your dad clears his throat, breaking the tension. “She’s got him started on the pattern already.” 

“You gonna run barrels?” Joel asks, curiosity sneaking into his eyes. 

“That’s the plan.” 

Joel hums, taking a long pause. “You wanna run him in a real arena? Bring him over to get some practice in with the right kind of footing and see what he’s really got for a motor?” 

Your eyes narrow and your shoulders tighten, straining with disbelief. A real arena? It’s like nothing you do is ever good enough for him. “We’re getting along just fine as is, thanks.” The words are dripping with venom as you slip back into the house letting the screendoor slam shut behind you. 

Joel’s brows furrow. “Didn’t mean no harm, by it,” he says to your dad. “My mistake,” he adds gruffly. 

Your dad looks a bit miffed at the sharpness of your rejection but gives Joel a shrug back. “She’s always gotta do it her own way.” 

The conversation with Joel sticks in your mind. You’re still chewing it over that evening as you run Blue through some drills, working on his lead changes and corners. When you finally bring him down to walk to cool down you hear the sound of hooves hitting the dirt across the field. Sharp and rhythmic. You walk Blue along the fence line. Pausing when you catch sight of Joel and Tommy in their outdoor arena. 

Their horses move like extensions of their bodies. You loosen the reins, letting Blue’s head sway with every step as you stay transfixed on the two men. Tommy’s bay gelding moves with a quick, snappy stride. His hindquarters tucked under him as he spins on a dime at Tommy’s commend. You can feel the thrill and see Tommy’s grin from where you sit. It’s infectious. You roll your eyes as he tosses his rope catching the dummy steer in a single fluid motion. 

You make another lap before you let yourself study Joel. 

He’s riding his big red mare, her muscles rippling in the sun as she powers forward at a lope. Joel’s hand is steady on the reins, his posture relaxed but exact. Every movement he makes is calculated, and deliberate, yet to an untrained eye seems completely natural and fluid. Like he and his horse were born to do it. He barely shifts to ask the mare to pivot. Her body arcs beautifully, bending around his leg as they make a sharp turn toward the roping dummy. 

You’ve seen good riders before, but there’s something different about the way works. He doesn’t just ride—he leads. Every muscle he moves is a quiet conversation between him and his horse. It’s seamless and controlled. And damn if it isn’t mesmerizing. 

He leans forward slightly, and your mouth goes dry watching his arm flexing as he tosses the rope with precision. His red mare halts instantly, kicking up dirt around her hooves. Joel adjusts his hat with a smooth motion, you can see the focus on his face. Serious and competitive.

You swallow hard as you change directions, still walking on a loose rein very aware that Blue’s sweat is long dried by now. You feel warmth burning in your core that has nothing to do with your tired muscles. He looks good out there. Too good. The kind of good that makes you think about things you shouldn’t be thinking about. Your eyes drift, taking in the way his jeans hug his thighs, the line of his back as he shifts in the saddle. You imagine his hands, thick, precise fingers. Something coils hot and tight within you. You shake your head at yourself. You are not having those thoughts about Joel Miller who thinks you don’t know your ass from your elbow. You swing your leg over the back of the saddle dropping to your feet. Loosening your cinch and still trying to shake your thoughts out of your mind when you hear Tommy hollering at you. 

“Watch and learn, neighbor!” Tommy calls, snapping you out of your thoughts. 

You glance up, cheeks burning as Tommy tips his hat your way with his charismatic grin. Joel follows his gaze, dark eyes locking on you for a moment. Tommy gives you a demonstration of his prowess with the rope–as if you hadn’t been watching–but, Joel says nothing before turning his mare and heading in the opposite direction. 

His cool look sends a shiver down your spine. 

You walk back to the barn, and the sound of their horses fades behind you, but that image of Joel sears into your mind. His commanding and maddeningly attractive exhibition just stoked a fire you’re desperate to ignore. 

You have the same stubborn streak as your father and you’d be damned if you’re gonna cave and ask Joel to use his facility. You find a summer barrel series in a nearby town with low entry fees.

You start hauling Blue out to get some experience. At first, his runs are clumsy, but as you get your miles in, his turns get tighter, his confidence grows, and your times get quicker. And you quickly feel like the two of you are ready to enter your first rodeo.

The air smells like dirt and livestock, as you unload your horse and tie him to the side of your trailer. There’s a hum from the generators, buzzing conversations, and the occasional whinny of a horse or thud as one paws at the dirt.

You had made a point not to ask if Joel and Tommy would be attending, but you catch his familiar shoulders tapering to his slim waist, with one boot on the lowest rung of the fence a few yards ahead when you head toward the warmup pen before your division gets called. He isn’t even facing your direction but you instinctively square your shoulders and raise your chin. You wonder if he’s just here to see if you’re going to fail. Or maybe he’s just watching to earn some other woman’s favor. 

Something ugly simmers in your blood and your chest feels tight. You attribute it to irritation, refusing to acknowledge any alternate reasons. You’re going to prove him wrong. 

You’re still staring at him when he turns to say something to the man standing next to him. You grit your teeth. Superstitious–as every cowboy is–his usual salt and pepper scruff is neatly trimmed, he’s got on a pair of deep blue Wranglers–nicer than you figure he owned, and a crisp long-sleeve pearl snap. Dressed to earn Lady Luck’s favor. 

The devil on your shoulder whispers a thought in Linda’s teasing voice. He doesn’t need to do all that to get lucky. You take a deep breath and peel yourself away from the sight. You’re here to focus on Blue, not your asshole neighbor and his conquests.

Despite trying to let go of your issues with Joel, a scowl stays plastered on your face throughout your warmup. Blue picks up on your distraction and he’s a little hot, as you head him toward the alleyway when it’s time for your run. Against your will, your eyes search for Joel. A wash of heat floods your veins when you find him already watching you. He mouths good luck at you and you can only manage a curt smile before you’re pushing Blue to a lope, making one tight circle before you cross the start. The sound of his hooves pounding into the dirt matches the blood pounding in your ears. The burst of adrenaline is instant. The run isn’t perfect. He breaks his stride around the second barrel and you lose time nudging him back into rhythm, but you finish the pattern without knocking anything over. The announcer calls your time as you slow to a trot, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. It’s such a blur you don’t think to look for Joel. You don’t think about him at all until you’re untacking Blue at your trailer, brushing sweat marks from his coat when movement near another horse trailer catches your eye.

Joel stands close to a woman with long, shiny dark hair. She flashes a wide smile, leaning toward him and resting a hand lightly on his arm. The sight makes you grimace. You shove down the feeling. “None of our business,” you mutter to Blue as you keep brushing. But, your eyes flick back despite yourself. She tilts her head, laughing at something he says, or doesn’t say, you can’t tell. He stands stiffly, hands in his pockets. You can’t see his face from your angle.

The woman reaches to touch him again, and you feel a headache brewing in the back of your skull. Joel glances away from her, landing in your direction for the shortest moment, before his weight shifts and he takes a small step back. You scowl again, tossing your brush back into the tack room shelf with more force than necessary making Blue toss his head. Your heart thuds louder than it should and you run a hand over Blue’s cheek, murmuring softly to calm both him and yourself. When you glance back, the woman is still talking, but Joel’s looking at you again. His dark eyes are sharp under the brim of his hat. He nods, barely noticeable, before turning away from the woman entirely. You clench your jaw, forcing yourself to take another deep breath before loading Blue back into the trailer to head out. You weren’t sticking around to watch any of the other events. Especially not the team roping. 

You smile when you pull onto the highway. You count the day as a success and feel ready to enter a bigger rodeo. The idea makes you glow. Finally feeling like you’re getting back to your true self. You feel like a new woman compared to the version of you that showed packed up her truck desperate to put miles between your ex-fiance and your corporate nightmare.

“It’s not that bad,” you argue, crossing your arms as your dad leans against the truck with a skeptical look. “The hell it’s not,” he replies, gesturing toward the trailer. “That’s floor is one step away from dropping your horse onto the damn highway.” You sigh, dragging a hand over your face. “I know,” you grumble lowly, disappointment sinking in your stomach. “I was just hoping you’d see something I didn’t.” “Sorry kid,” your dad says. “S’fine. I’ll figure something out. Or just eat the entry fees I paid.” “Or,” he says pointedly, “you could ask Joel.” You glare at him, fire burning in your chest. “I don’t need his charity.” “Ain’t charity,” he interrupts your sour attitude with a gruff tone. “He’s practically family. Don’t let your pride get in the way of your goals.” The words stick, heavy and uncomfortable. You’ve got half a mind to keep arguing. Joel might be your dad’s best friend, but he’s nothing like family to you. But before you can talk yourself out of it, you’re dragging yourself up the steps of Joel’s front porch. 

You realize as your boot hits the last step that you’ve never been to his place. He always offers to have you and your dad over for a whiskey or for a fire out back, but you always brush him off. You see why your dad takes him up on it though.

It’s beautifully made with stunning wooden chairs and a bench for seating on the porch. You’d consider complimenting him on his craftsmanship if you weren’t already dreading what you’re about to say. Joel opens the door, his hat already in hand like he’d been expecting you. “Somethin’ wrong?” “Yeah,” you admit, trying not to hesitate. “Uh, trailer’s shot,” you point your thumb in the direction of your dad’s place. “Was wondering if you’d have room in your trailer to haul Blue with your horses.” 

The corner of Joel’s mouth twitches. The gleam in his eye makes you want to say never mind. You brace for a smart-ass remark. “‘Course,” he replies. You blink, caught off guard by the simplicity of it. “Of course?” 

He leans back into the house to grab something, then he’s handing you his keys. “Load your tack up tonight, and get your bags in the living quarters.” “No need,” you shake your head, leaving him holding the keys between you. “I’ve got the truck. And a tent.” 

Joel leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms. You pointedly avoid how his sleeves strain around his biceps. “You’re ridin’ with us. Not riskin’ that truck dyin’ on the highway.” You glare, lips pressed into a thin line. Of course, you’ve got a trailer with a busted floor and a truck with more miles than you’d like to admit on it—while Joel has a shiny truck from this decade and a horse trailer with a tack room and living quarters. Probably has AC and everything.

You catch the glint in his eye, realizing you’re the one asking for a favor and you steel yourself, reminding yourself to bite your tongue.

“Fine,” you grit out, holding your hand out for the keys.

The truck hums beneath you, the steady vibration doing nothing to ease the thick tension in the cab. Tommy’s passed out in the back seat, his hat tipped low over his face, leaving you alone with Joel and the steady drone of the country ballad playing through the speakers.

“You always listen to this?” you ask, breaking the silence as you reach toward the radio.

Joel glances at you, one hand resting casually on the wheel. “Somethin’ wrong with it?”

“Didn’t know you were a ‘sad songs for sad cowboys’ kind of guy,” you mutter, flicking through stations before he can answer.

Joel doesn’t stop you, but when you pause on something irritatingly upbeat, his hand moves toward the knob just as yours does.

Your fingers brush his, and the contact jolts through you like a live wire.

You pull back instinctively, your breath catching as your heart slams against your ribs. Joel pauses for half a second before retreating, his knuckles tightening faintly on the wheel.

The silence that follows is suffocating.

Joel stares ahead, his jaw clenching as his thoughts spiral. He knew telling you to ride with him was playing with fire. But he can’t stay away from the heat. You glance out the window, pretending the spark you felt wasn’t real. It’s just Joel, always better than you, always an ass. The charged silence stretches on though, every shift of his hand on the wheel drawing your attention. Every shallow breath reminds you of his proximity. 

“This’ll do,” you say tightly. Joel huffs softly, but says nothing, keeping his eyes pointed straight ahead. Neither of you speaks again for the rest of the drive, but the weight of the accidental touch remains, thick and suffocating. The rodeo grounds are already alive with motion by the time you’re parked and unloading the horses. The evening sun casts an amber glow over the circus of trucks, tents, and trailers. You help get the portable fence set up and the horses settled before the three of you head off to check in at the visitor's tent and get your meal tickets. 

The smell of barbecue wafts through the air and you get in line to fill your plate. Folks chat eagerly. Tommy strikes up an easy conversation with a group of riders near the picnic tables.

You watch as some folks head back to their campsites, hesitating on whether you want to do the same or find a table. Joel passes you and sits at a nearby table and before you can debate any longer a voice interrupts your thoughts. “Long travel day?” the wiry cowboy drawls, tipping his hat and gesturing to the bench next to him. “Take a seat.” 

You give him a quizzical look, but you’re hungry enough to take the opportunity to sit and eat. 

“Name’s Cody.” He introduces himself while you eat. He tells you he’s a bull rider. Asks if you’re runnin’ barrels tomorrow. He’s chatty with a smooth and easy voice and a playful look on his youthful face. You answer his questions, politely, suddenly keenly aware of Joel’s gaze boring into the back of your head. It makes your spine prickle with something you can’t name. The heat of his stare burns into you, fierce and unwavering, making every laugh at Cody’s jokes feel like defiance. Cody continues on and you find it easy to listen to his stories, but you can’t help feeling compelled to glance over your shoulder betraying the distraction you’re trying to ignore. Cody points out some of the other riders he knows and invites you to come hang out at their campsite and have a drink. You’re still searching for the right words when you catch sight of Joel walking swiftly past your table. He mutters something to Tommy–who seems to be proving Linda’s rumors true with a woman wrapped around his arm and batting her lashes at him–and stalks off. Your stomach twists as you watch him go, irritation flaring hot and fast. “The fuck is his problem?” you mutter under your breath, turning back to your plate. Cody shrugs, clearly oblivious. “Who knows? Anyway—” But you’ve already tuned him out, your eyes following the path Joel struts down before he disappears.

You joined Cody and his friend for one drink, hoping it would ease your nerves. He had a kind group, a little rough around the edges, but tough as nails like you’d expect bull riders to be. They kept your mind distracted with their wild stories, but you decided to head back to the trailer before anyone got drunk and stupid. The walk back to the trailer feels longer than it should, every step weighed down by something stirring within you, something that has you on edge. You check on the horses before pulling the door open and climbing into the living quarters. The cool night air hasn’t soothed the heat that’s been simmering within you since dinner—or since that moment in the truck if you’re honest. You toe off your boots before looking up to see Joel, leaning against the wall, his jaw set tight, and his eyes sharp as they snap to yours.

“Where’s Tommy?” you ask, realizing it’s just the two of you in the small space. “Reckon he’ll be out til the sun's up,” Joel says in a quiet, low tone. “Alright,” you nod. Another point goes to Linda for that one, you figure. Joel’s jaw remains set in that infuriatingly unreadable way that seems to be his signature look. The dim light in the trailer casts sharp shadows across his face that darken his gaze. “You enjoy yourself? With your new friend?” he asks, his voice raw, edged with something you can’t place. You stop short, narrowing your eyes. “Excuse me?” He steps closer, reaching past you to hang his hat on the hook by the door. “Took your time gettin’ back.” He says, his eyes flick over you, dark and assessing.

You’re acutely aware of the scent of the campfire on your shirt and beer on your lips. It swirls with his leather and bourbon musk like they were designed to enhance each other. His words sink in, cutting and daring. “What’s your point?” “Did you fuck him?” The bluntness of it knocks the breath out of you. Your mouth falls open. Shock and fury battling for control as you glare at him. “What did you just say to me?” “You heard me, sweetheart,” Joel says, his voice calm but razor-sharp. “Just wondering if that cowboy got what he was after.” It takes everything in you not to slap him across the face. “What the fuck,” you hiss, stepping closer, your fists clenched at your sides, “makes you think you’ve got the right to ask me that, Joel?” 

He shrugs his shoulders, but his expression remains cold. “Lookin’ out for you. Your dad’d kill me if I didn’t.” You laugh bitterly. “Bullshit.” His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t respond. Silence fanning the flames within you. “You aren’t my dad,” you snap, voice trembling with rage. “And you sure as hell don’t get to tell me who I can or can’t fuck.” Joel’s eyes narrow, his shoulders stiffening as he steps even closer. “That’s not what I—” “Save it,” you cut him off, word sharp as a whip. “I don’t know why you think I’m so weak or clueless all the time. Like I can’t handle myself. Like I’m some kid you’ve gotta babysit.” 

Joel’s expression hardens, his dark eyes flash with something that looks like hurt beneath his anger. “That’s what you think I see?” his words come out like a dangerous growl. “That’s how you’ve acted toward me since day one,” you fire back, stepping toe-to-toe with him. “If you don’t respect me, Joel, just stay out of my business.” His chest rises and falls sharply, his breath warm against your skin as the air between you thickens. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talkin’ about,” he grits, voice tight with frustration. “Explain it to me then,” you challenge. Shaking with the force of everything you’ve been holding back. “Or stay away from me if I’m such a thorn in your side.” He works his jaw, and for a moment you’re glued to the corded muscle in his neck and the exposed golden brown skin of his chest. He glares at you, making no move to back off. His voice drops sinfully low and quiet. “You really wanna know?” “Yeah,” you breathe, heart pounding like it’s trying to break through your ribcage. “I do.” His hand moves fast, gripping your wrist—not rough, but firm enough to make your breath catch. “You drive me fuckin’ crazy,” he accuses in a rough and uneven voice. You blink. “What?” “You heard me,” he rumbles, dark eyes locked on yours. “From the first day, you showed up here, lookin’ at me like you had somethin’ to prove.” Anger burns in your veins. “How does that make me your problem?” His grip tightens, his body presses closer. “You ain’t my problem,” he mutters. Guilt twists into his words, “Shouldn’t even be lookin’ at you like this. S’wrong.” He swallows thickly, only sharpening the edge in his voice. “But I can’t stop thinkin’ about you, and it’s pissin’ me off.” His confession hits you like a brick over the head. The trailer is silent, but the sound of the blood rushing in your ears, and your ragged exhale seems deafening. 

“Then stop,” you challenge, voice trembling with defiance. “If it’s so wrong, just leave me alone.” Joel’s eyes darken, his other hand settles on your hip, fingers digging into you. “Can’t,” he says,  voice so thick with frustration, it sounds like it hurts. “Don’t think I want to.” 

Silence stretches and time feels thick and warped. Your ragged breaths fill the space. His eyes search for a reason to stop, but he finds none. 

You don’t get a chance to reply before he drops your wrist to wrap a large hand around your jaw, pulling you into a feverish kiss. Nothing gentle about it. It’s raw and desperate, equal parts frustration and hunger. Your fingers curl into his shirt as if you could pull him any closer as your teeth scrape over his bottom lip, in a sharp, biting challenge that makes him groan low in his throat. He angles your face so he can kiss you deeper, harder, until your knees feel like they might give out. Your mind goes blank, flashing white with anger and need. All you can process is the hot slip of his tongue against yours and the sharp bristle of his facial hair against your tender lips. Your back hits the cool metal wall of the trailer before you realize your feet had even moved. Joel’s hips press into yours, pinning you against his body–solid and unrelenting. His lips trail down your jaw to your neck, the edge of his teeth scraping at your skin. The rasp of his stubble sends sparks to your core, and you dig your fingers into the hair on the back of his head. Pulling him toward you, needing him in a way that verges on painful. He lifts his mouth, breathing hotly against your damp neck. “This what you want?” he says, his tone matching the burning desperation coursing through you. “You want me to fuck it outta you? Til you can’t keep runnin’ your mouth at me?” “Shut up,” you snap, but the way your body arches into him betrays the hostility in your voice and the subtle stretch makes you keenly aware of how wet and needy you are already. He makes a low, guttural noise in his throat that makes your cunt throb. His hand slides down to grip your thigh, hitching it around his waist as he grinds into you. The hard ridge of his cock pressing into you makes you gasp. The sound you make sends heat ripping through him like wildfire. We can’t, he thinks, but the words die on his tongue. The thought of how wrong this is flashes in his mind, but it’s drowned out by the way you’re looking at him. The way your nails dig into his shoulders as you pull him closer, your breath hot and shaky against his cheek. He can’t think. He can’t stop. He doesn’t want to. Not when you’re so soft and warm and furious beneath him. He’s helpless. His hand slips under your shirt, rough fingers brushing over soft skin, leaving a searing trail that grounds you as your mind spins. He pushes your shirt up, baring you to the dim light of the trailer. Time slips back into the warped, syrupy dimension as you absorb the unbidden lust and awe in his eyes. You’re the one exposed, but you feel like you’re seeing something just as naked in his face. Time catches up and you pull your shirt the rest of the way over your head, committing to sin wordlessly. You shiver at the sudden contrast between the heat radiating off of his body and the cool air hitting your flesh. “Joel,” you gasp, your head tipping back as his mouth closes over your nipple like a wet furnace. His teeth graze the sensitive skin causing you to spew breathy curses over the top of his head. They only spur him on. He sucks hard enough that you tug him off you by his hair, but he only switches to your breast, delivering the same delicious punishment as his fingers roll and pinch at the wet, puffy, flesh he abandons. 

It’s like he can predict your needs before your mind can, biting down harshly enough to pull you away from the angry, hissing thoughts and keep you desperate to stay lost in the physical sensations. He palms the full weight of your tits, gliding his thumbs over both, slick and shining with his saliva. He presses them together before releasing them. “Goddamn,” he murmurs, taken by the way they bounce more perfectly than he could’ve imagined. It’s wrong to have you topless and panting beneath him, but his name falls so sweetly from your lips that it doesn’t matter. The heavy-lidded look you have makes him feel confirmed. When you moan lowly as the pain melts into pleasure when he kneads your soft, slippery skin, his cock aches and weeps for you. He needs more. He needs everything. Needs to wreck you, to see you so fucked out the only thing you can say is his name. 

It’s an exquisite brand of torture. 

You hate how good this feels, how badly you want him to keep going. To show you every move he knows. To break you down with his hands and mouth. You should push him away, tell him to fuck off. But your body doesn’t want that. You don’t want that. You roll your hips against his, begging wordlessly for more, as you tug at his hair hard enough to pull a throaty groan from deep within him. The sound he makes nearly has you short-circuiting, but he doesn’t give you the respite to fall apart. His hands are everywhere, frenzied like he’s losing control. Hasn’t he already lost it? You wonder distantly. Slowly, you realize he’s littering dirty little threats and filthy promises into your warm flesh. You hate the way his words make you shiver, how much you crave every pledge he makes. “You’re gonna feel me for days, sweetheart,” he husks hotly, just behind your ear. It’s a commitment you unwittingly pray he keeps. Some part buried deep within you blooms at the idea of feeling every memory of his touch as you go about your day tomorrow. “Get to it then,” you snap, hands reaching for his belt with urgency. Joel doesn’t need any more encouragement. His hand slips between your legs, teasing you through the soaked fabric of your underwear, and the sound you make at the pressure—the breathless, needy, whimper—makes him forget how to breathe. All he knows is that he needs to hear it again while he fucks into your soft, warm cunt. 

He wrenches your jeans open and works them down your thighs as you tear at his shirt buttons. He’s barely able to let you go long enough to pull his shirt off; watching you kick your pants off the rest of the way makes him nearly trip over himself. 

The air between your naked chests is sticky and warm. He dips his hand beneath the hem of your underwear, fingertips gliding over the soft hair on your mound making his eyes roll back. 

The edges of your vision blurs when he prods two big fingers between your slick lips, but you’re glued to the way his dark eyes are nearly black now. He looks every bit possessed by a beast, and fuck if you aren’t driven by the sick desire to make him snap. 

“You like having me touch you like this, don’t you?” His voice drips with need underscored by the slick sounds coming from between your legs. 

“No.” You rasp, as you grind your clit against his palm. He pumps two fingers inside of you, curling them just right to make you moan. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he drawls, thick like honey. You grip the muscle flexing in his arm to steady yourself. His concentration and competence makes your walls flutter around his fingers. 

“You’re gonna come for me, right here.” He declares. 

You shake your head. “I’m not—fuck—I won’t.” 

“You will,” he interrupts. Dark and calm. His pace quickens, fingers focused on the spot inside you that makes you a mindless wreck. His thumb draws circles around your clit. 

“Can feel how close you are.” Your hips rock and your muscles all pull taut. “If you’d quit fuckin’ fighting me.” He somehow crowds even closer to you. You feel like you’re about to snap when he pulls his hand away, leaving you feeling empty and ragged. “But you’re too fuckin’ stubborn, ain’t you?” 

“Joel,” you whine, angry and devastated. “I hate you.” 

You grip the back of his neck with one hand, and both of you watch as he finally takes himself out of his jeans. 

The view makes you salivate. 

Everything about Joel is rugged and masculine. The muscles carved into his arms and chest. The trail of dark hair leading down his stomach that thickens around his base. The deep flushed color of his thick cock. The ragged inhale he makes when he presses the blunt tip against the drenched fabric that clings to your swollen folds. 

“Say it,” he growls, rubbing along your barely clothed seam. 

“I hate you,” you whisper unconvincingly, digging your nails into the back of his neck and arching off of the wall. 

“Tell me you want it.” You can’t tell if it’s a demand or a plea. This strain in his voice and the muscles tensing across his broad frame make you tremble.

“I don’t.” You lie. You snake one hand down your body, peeling your ruined panties to the side so he can slot his tip at your dripping entrance. You tilt forward, impatiently, stretching around him just enough to override your filter. 

“Oh, fuck,” you start. Unable to stop the stream of whispered curses from rolling off your tongue. 

“Yeah,” Joel rasps, inching deeper inside of your tight, warm walls. He feeds himself into you slowly, the overwhelming fullness as you adjust makes your thighs shake. He pulls out and you whine, unable to say a word before he’s moving, dipping you onto the thin trailer mattress and slipping your underwear down your legs. 

“Gonna fuck you full,” he mutters. You spread your legs, making room for him to settle above you. He draws his cock back through your lips, coating himself in your arousal before driving into you with a powerful stroke. 

Your lips part, sucking in air as he sets a pace. He fills you deeper than you’ve ever felt, relentlessly making room for himself as he saws in and out of you. It’s powerful and primal, but refined by his athleticism. Fluid rolling hips and his strong core make you see stars as he fucks into you.

“That’s right,” he rasps above you, and you realize he’s responding to you. 

“So good,” you’re murmuring, “so full.” 

“Taking it like you were made for it,” he says to himself. The intensity of your tight, warm pussy coaxing him deeper makes him spill his thoughts. Unfiltered. 

He sets a pace, slow and deliberate at first, each stroke filling you completely before pulling back, leaving you desperate for more. The friction is maddening, plunging his length into your sensitive walls as he pins you beneath his hard body.   

“You feel that?” His breath is hot against your neck. “Feel how deep I am? How I’m splittin’ you open?”  

You nod frantically, your nails digging into his shoulders as you whimper his name.  

Joel’s control falters at the sound of it, his hips snapping harder, faster, as his desperation takes over. “Thought about this,” he rasps, his voice hoarse. “Fuckin’ hell, I’ve thought about this too damn much. But you’re better than I ever imagined.”  

His confession sends a jolt through you, but you’re too far gone to process it, your body tightening around him as pleasure builds again, sharper and hotter than before.  

“Joel, please.”  

“Fuck,” he chokes the word out, his pace faltering for a split second before he slams into you harder, deeper. “Say that again.”  

“Please,” you whisper, your voice breaking as your release breaks through you, leaving you gasping and cursing.  

Joel’s hips snap erratically, pinning you into the mattress with a tight grip, as he buries his cock as deep as he can inside of you. 

“Gonna fill you up,” he mutters, his voice ragged. “Every drop, sweetheart.” Make you mine, he barely keeps the last thought in his head. 

“Yes, yes, yes.” You chant as your body jolts with each collision with his. 

“Fuck,” Joel mutters, cock driving deeper and swelling at your words. “That’s it. Take it all, sweetheart.”  

Your release hits again, your body trembling violently. Or maybe it never stopped—he only drew it out of you in waves. 

Joel curses low, his hips slamming into yours one last time before you feel him pulsing inside of you, hot and thick. 

When he pulls back, his eyes linger on the mess between your thighs. “Look at that,” he mutters, his voice low and reverent. His wide hands slide up the back of your thighs, bending your knees to your chest so he can watch the mix of your releases glistening and dripping from you. 

He takes one hand and drags it through the mess, pushing it back up inside of you. You squirm, sensitive to the touch, but fixated on whatever is burning behind his eyes. 

You wait for him to say something characteristically Joel.

To dismiss you as naive, to rub it in that he broke you down. That he had you crying his name. That you shouldn’t have done that. 

But it never comes.

You’re convinced he was trying to put you in your place. To give you another reminder that he thinks you’re useless and clueless. You’re too wrapped up in the thoughts to speak or move. 

He doesn’t say anything at all which nearly makes it worse.

Instead, he pins you under a heavy arm, holding you against him until you both doze off. Succumbing to exhaustion.

-> PART TWO

dividers by @/saradika-graphics 🤠🤎

tagging the usual babes in case you want some cowboy!joel for christmas too:

@lovely-vamp-princess @gothcsz @auteurdelabre @adoreyouusugar

@swankyorange @itwasntimethatdidit40 @ivoryandflame @magneticecstasy

@indiegirlunited @syd-djarin @harriedandharassed @bbyanarchist

@94namkooksworld

[pierregazly]

a diamond's gotta shine ꨄ lance stroll smau

lance stroll x fem!reader

pic credit: pinterest

i know lance is daddy's money through and through (and i love a nepo baby sorry), but he is so 'my love language is gift giving so i'm going to spoil my girlfriend with everything i can' boyfriend material so here's that basically

yourusername

liked by lance_stroll, chloestroll, estebanocon, and 467,891 others

yourusername he ALWAYS let me drive the truck... sorry taylor

view all 1,347 comments

lance_stroll it is not a truck and PLEASE stop eating in the aston martin

lance_stroll at least stop eating in it without me

chloestroll wouldn't want a matcha date with anyone else 💗

liked by yourusername and 462 others

username imagine just casually eating fruit in a literal aston martin??? i dont even eat fruit in my car in fear of everything getting sticky 😭

username i want her life so bad

lance_stroll

tagged yourusername

liked by yourusername, chloestroll, fernandoalo_oficial, and 1,206,708 others

lance_stroll spent the last 2 years with her shoes in my hands after nights out, hoping for a hundred more

view all 9,071 comments

yourusername i am SO obsessed with you

yourusername even after 2 years, gonna be obsessed with u forever lance_stroll wouldn't have it any other way

username the toaster and i have a hot date with the bathtub tonight

username the things i would do to have lance stroll hold my shoes in his million dollar hands after a night out :(

username i want someone to love me even half as much as lance loves y/n ugh

chloestroll i taught you well

yourusername

tagged lance_stroll

liked by lance_stroll, yourfriend, estebanocon, and 450,687 others

yourusername all i asked for was a picture, and he decided to give me 2 years of his life and his heart. i'll love you til my lungs give out.

view all 3,491 comments

username all she asked for was a PICTURE 😭 and he gave her his heart 😭 and she'll love him til her lungs give out 😭

username im literally throwing up, sobbing, screaming, dying at this caption

lance_stroll my heart has been yours since the day you blew my breath away

liked by 5,782 users

username i usually hate lovey-dovey couples but these two... girl they got me wanting to be adopted frfr

username im calling it... girlypop's gonna have a ring by year 3 for sure

lance_stroll

liked by yourusername, mickschumacher, chloestroll, and 203,456 others

lance_stroll yeehaw

view all 2,340 comments

username this is such a look... are we sure this man isn't from alberta

yourusername i will save all the horses if it means i get to ride this cowboy

username y/n.... estebanocon there are children on this app

username i was literally waiting for that y/n comment... these two are disgustingly unhinged

yourusername has added a story

liked by lance_stroll, chloestroll, and others

replies

lance_stroll why didn't you post the pic of both of us in the bath :(

yourusername i wasn't trying to traumatize your family my love lance_stroll u posted that you're going to 'ride this cowboy' but a pic of me in the bath is too much?

yourusername

tagged lance_stroll

liked by lance_stroll, scottyjames31, chloestroll, and 102,340 others

yourusername do you think i get to meet emily in paris or am i stuck with lance

view all 1,341 comments

lance_stroll i just bought you that croissant and coffee and this is what i get as thanks????

yourusername i am so obsessed w u im sorry my favourite cowboy 🥺

username this is so wholesome lance is so boyfriend coded im crying

username y/n is literally living her best life ever i want to be her so bad

scottyjames31 i just know all of these photos were taken at least 75 times

yourusername mind ur own business scotty

lance_stroll and yourusername

liked by chloestroll, estebanocon, mickschumacher and 2,304,550 others

lance_stroll watching you walk down the aisle will make me the luckiest man alive

view all 6,789 comments

estebanocon did you pay her to say yes?? congratulations you two 🥂

chloestroll even though i helped plan this entire thing i STILL cried on the phone. so happy for you both!!

username this man bought her like 5k worth of goodies and then put a RING that's probably worth my yearly salary on her finger??? god has chosen his favourite

yourusername im so lucky to be the one you've chosen to spend the rest of your life with. je t'aime 💗

taglist

@leclercdream @myescapefromthislife @leclerces

i didnt tag anyone that specifically requested in the replies to be tagged for 'to live for the hope of it all' and all its parts (mostly bc idk how taglists work and i dont wanna bother yall), so if you'd like to be on my taglist for everything please send me a quick ask/dm (or u can just reply and say you'd like to be tagged for everything)! thank you for all the love

[wasitforrevenge]

oh sweetheart pt. 2.5

pairing: boxer!ellie x f! jesses sister!reader

word count: 1.2k

rating: 18+ (smut will be coming in later parts)

warnings: dealer! boxer!ellie, weed, alcohol,

summary: ellie gets your phone number.

author notes: hi just something small for a filler, setting up for the next part, hoping to have it posted up friday the 1st! thank you for reading! pls reblog, comment, or like! i love the support, and thank you for over 1000 likes and 100 followers!! it’s a great feeling

italic = ellie and bold = reader

part 2.5 | part 3

series masterlist <3

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸

READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.

its been a week and a half since you last saw her when she drove you home from the match in her old busted truck. thoughts of her plagued your mind all week. you wondered if she was working. you wondered if she was out with friends. you wondered if she was thinking about you. she is but you don’t know that. you’re not aware she’s thinking of you also. thinking of the way the smell of strawberries stained her car after you left. thinking of the way you said you like it when she calls you sweetheart.

both of you wonder when the next time you’ll see each other is.

its a wednesday afternoon, you’re currently sitting on the couch with dina. she’s the only friend you have down here so far and its not weird that she’s dating your brother. she has come over a bunch, helping you shop, getting little things for your apartment, watching movies and of course, getting high. which is exactly what you’re doing right now. you both sat on your old lumpy couch and watched the iron man series that you had on dvd, not paying to much attention to the tv, but rather your conversion.

“so no luck still? you should just come work with me at the farm, i mean i love it- the horse shit not so much.” dina exclaimed.

“yeah its like no one is hiring, i may have to take you up on that, i still wanna keep looking though, maybe something will come along.” you told her.

“yeah avoid horse shit as long as you can, something will come along don’t worry!” she said trying to make you feel better knowing you’re stressed. but at the end of the day, you need something to fill your time besides thinking of the boxer that drove you home.

you guys just sat and talked then eventually as the credits rolled for the last movie, you got up and started to clean up the mess from the pizza you ordered earlier. after you went to the kitchen and put the plates in the sink, you grabbed the bottle of wine and two glasses and made your way back to dina still in the living room. you hold it up to her and with the look on her face, you knew she was thinking the same thing.

by the third bottle, it was 10pm and you’ve run out of weed and not much wine left but you both are feeling great, laughing and giggling like kids. its nice to have a friend you thought.

“what are you doing friday night?” she questioned.

you responded to her, “probably exactly what im doing right now” you both laughed.

“well there’s another match this weekend, me and jesse are going if you want to come along again, ellie will be there too.” she replied. you couldn’t hide the smile on your face when she said her name.

“woah! what’s with the smiling and the blushing…” she joked asking. you didn’t tell either of them what happened that night at the first match. from outside or inside, they assumed you both got an uber and you didn’t tell them any differently.

“nothing, i just thought she was nice thats all.” you said trying not make any signs of anything more.

“oh she is!,” dina started, “well maybe not at first but once you get to know her, we’ve been friends for years now,” she laughed and kept going, “she fights at the gym sometimes, but she works there too, its a good hang out space plus cheap drinks. plus she’s bringing us the restock.” she finished as she picked up her weed jar.

“oh you get it from her?” you inquired, thinking back to the faint smell of weed in her car when she drove you home.

“yeah she’s got good stuff and nice deals, ugh its great, always easier to get it from someone you know,” she ended. you thought about asking her if you could tell her to get you some to and for some other non-obvious reason but she beat you to it.

“ill send her your number and she’ll text you.” she said to you as she pulled out her phone and sent a message. a few moments later, her phone rang and she answered, it was jesse waiting outside for her so she gave you a hug and grabbed her stuff and you walked her to the door.

you locked it before you turned around to sit back down on the couch, grabbed the wine glass and poured the last bit in your cup, you were still drunk and definitely feeling it. you heard your phone buzz and you picked it up, answering the call, not paying attention, thinking it was dina but the voice surprised you.

hey sweetheart

you didn’t expect her to call so soon, you haven’t even given yourself a moment to think about what to say beforehand. you weren’t prepared for this. you feel yourself getting nervous over the girl you only met last week but you just cant help it. she’s been on your mind since you met her.

hi ellie

dina sent me your number i hope that’s okay

yes she said she was going to

well in that case, she said you needed to buy

yeah we managed to smoke up all her stash and i haven’t gotten any since i moved here, probably cause i didn’t know where to get it

well no worries, i’ve got everything you need sweetheart.

thank you ellie, you said smiling but she couldn’t see you through the phone, you wondered what she’d think if she saw how red your face was right now.

you can call me el sweetheart, no need to be so formal.

she laughed through the phone, and then asked if you were coming to the gym on friday with your brother and dina.

they invited me but i hadn’t thought about it yet, not wanting to sound too eager about the potential thought of seeing her on friday.

mhm- well you should, we’re just gonna have some drinks and chill so nothing crazy. but i will have the weed for you then if that peaks your interest.

bribing me with drugs?, you laugh into the phone and she laughs with you.

if that’s how you want to put it sweetheart, sure

you smiled into the phone, not even sure how to respond to that before becoming flustered, before you continued,

i guess we’ll just have to wait and see then…

yeah i guess we will… goodnight sweetheart.

that was the last thing she said before she hung up and you sat staring back at a black screen. thinking that now she has your number and you have hers.

it’s almost 11 now as you brush your teeth, throw on a t shirt and cuddle up in bed. falling asleep to the thoughts of how friday was going to go when you finally saw her again.

[rafesbowbunny]

🐄⋆₊˚─── introducing farmgirl!reader

the farmer's daughter .ᐟ berry picking. silver & gold jewellery. crosses. apple pie. gingham. old radios. patchwork. church. cowboy boots. wildflowers. chestnut. early mornings. lace bows. linen sheets. hard liquor. vinyls. lace bows. ferns.

𐙚 farmgirl!reader who loves feeding chickens at the crack of dawn and collecting the eggs. you'll often find her in flowy short linen dresses and her father's brown jacket. she loves baking her family whatever they ask.

𐙚 farmgirl!reader who wears her cowboy boots with lace bows tied on them. she's incredibly headstrong, no one can hold her down (other than maybe bsf!stableboy!rafe). she flirts with every guy but has never had a boyfriend, though she sings 'before he cheats' like she has. she takes absolutely no one's shit.

𐙚 farmgirl!reader who often walks around in little gingham bloomers and gumboots when she's feeding the animals. she loves driving her father's truck - which is stick shift. her best friend is a stray orange cat that roams around. is a victim to crying when she's frustrated or angry, though she has a temper.

𝜗᭪ farmgirl!reader works below .ᐟ

⋆ farmgirl!reader x stableboy!rafe moodboard & lore

⋆ farmgirl!reader surprises stableboy!rafe with a picnic

⋆ farmgirl!reader watches stableboy!rafe handle horses, then he manhandles her

!! layout insp by @sematarygirls <3 just want to make it clear that i am not the first or last person to have a farm girl type !reader, credits to all others who do & the tumblr posts on my alt account that made me want to create her lol !

taglist ! ; @drewscoquette , @dollyfiles , @holes4rafe , @filthyrafe , @bambiangels , @rafesheaven , @bambrinaa <3 ( pls lmk if you want to be added or removed, i wont mind ! )

[jeankirsteinsgirl]

Omg I’m ovulating and I need Jean right now 🥸could you pls write something about country boy Jean and a shy reader 🙈 I just know he is so charming, low key kinda cocky, and drives a pickup truck 😿😋

Your wish is my command

Save a horse Ride a...

WC: 5.5K (i promise its worth it)

Summary: city girl reader comes home to her family far and sees Cowboy Jean

CW: finger-sucking, cunnilingus, creampie, slut, good girl, princess, sweetheart, Jean has a huge cock, slight dumbification, slight degradation, doggy, spanking. NSFW MDNI 18+!!!

It’s been a few months since you’ve been home but you’ve really been missing the small back-roads town you grew up in. Growing up, generally, no one really left your home town so it was rather unusual for you to take a job in a big city a few hours out. No matter how hard you tried to convince yourself you knew in your soul you longed for the sound of the crickets at night under the full moon, the one diner in town with the absolute best burgers and shakes, the smell of your family’s farm wafting through your open window at night, and how much brighter the stars shined under the wide country sky. 

You missed it more than you cared to admit, so coming back home to work on the farm for two months this summer didn’t sound too bad. Your mom posed the idea one night when you were ranting to her about the stress of your “big city job” over the phone and she suggested you were just homesick and needed to take some time off, get back to your roots, and she was right. So here you were driving down the interstate through miles of nothing on either side in your fancy new car that dramatically contrasted with the dusty environment around you. You knew you’d hear a bunch of grief from your friends and family about how you dressed now and the loss of your sweet southern accent but you were prepared. Pulling into the long gravel driveway of your family's farm just on the outside of what was actually considered “town” you saw your dog run down from the front door to excitedly greet you. You walked out slamming your car door and slinging your bag over your shoulder before smothering your best friend with pets and kisses “Wish you’d do that to me sweetheart” came from a low raspy voice behind you in that signature cocky southern tone, you didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was. Of course, it was him, your father's favorite farm hand, Jean. How could you forget that he’d be here? 

You and Jean had a long history, and by history you mean the ongoing phenomenon of you secretly pining after him for years as he worked for your dad and him constantly flirting with every woman he laid his eyes on. He was very popular around town, especially among the girls. When you were home you’d always see Jean dragging back a different girl to his cabin next to the horse stables and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, deep down feeling just a twinge of hurt that it wasn’t you. 

You just rolled your eyes and stood up, walking towards the front door of the big white house you grew up in “C’mon darling, I don’t even get a proper greeting?” He said smirking while leaning his right arm against your car “I’ll see you later when I go to help out with the stables Jean..” you replied in a mildly annoyed tone promptly reaching the door of your house and slamming it shut behind you. You were already stressed out about your job the last thing you needed to be stressed about was Jean fucking Kirstein. 

You walked up the rickety old stairs stained with splotches of paint, dirt, and who knows what else before reaching your room, the first one on the right, unfortunately with a perfect view of Jean’s cabin through your big, open window. You quickly shut your curtains and turned away from the view. You were not doing that. Not again. You didn’t need to know who Jean was gonna bring home tonight and cry into your pillow like you were 16 again.

 So you unloaded your things onto your bed and walked back downstairs to your mom who had already prepared a huge lunch for you. She insisted working in the city with such a stressful job had made you far too skinny and you needed to “put some meat back on those bones” so she sat you down at the round dining table in the corner of the kitchen and placed a cornucopia of your favorite foods from when you were little, her famous southern mac n cheese, a few tenders of fried chicken, some green beans for vitamins, and of course a slice of apple pie complete with a scoop of vanilla ice-cream and a coke. “I’m never gonna eat all of this mama” you giggled looking down at the absolute feast laid in front of you, god you’d been here for maybe 15 minutes and your slight accent had already made a comeback. “Well baby whatever you don’t finish we’ll have for dinner how ‘bout that hm?” She said sweetly stroking your arm “Saw you talking to Jean out there. Such a sweet boy, that one. I know your father likes him a whole lot.” You laughed softly to yourself at your mother’s comment of Jean being a “sweet boy” not wanting to get into an unnecessary argument, all you asked in response was where your father was, considering it was strange he hadn’t greeted you in one of his famous bear hugs yet. You were informed he went into a town a few towns over to pick up some more cows for the farm and wouldn’t be back for about three days. Three whole days you will have to work on the farm with just Jean, without the presence of your father as a buffer. Great. 

You scarfed down the delicious meal your sweet mother so graciously prepared for you, maybe she was right, you hadn’t been eating enough. You put what was left over in your oversized fridge and thanked her once again for welcoming you back with such open arms. You did the dishes and took your dog for a run, trying to put off your farm responsibilities until tomorrow mainly for one reason in particular. Unluckily for you the path you took on the run winded through Jean’s smoking spot when he was in-between tasks, how could you forget that? 

“Hey, princess why don’t you take a break and sit with me, hm? Got an extra cigarette just for those pretty lips.” He exhaled, smoke ghosting over his lips as he patted the spot next to him with his large hand. As much as your heart longed to find some semblance of affection in Jean’s flirtation you knew you weren’t special, he flirted with every breathing female who crossed his path, and playing into that would only hurt your feelings more in the long run. So no you would not smoke with him, you had things to do, none of them being Jean Kirstein. 

“Don’t smoke anymore, ‘ts bad for you, you know.” You remarked annoyingly trying to come off completely disinterested in his advances. “Oh, I see, the big city’s turned you into a good girl huh?” he teased taking another long drag, god he looked so good like this. All sweaty from working outside all day, tan with a slight sunburn across his nose dotting just a few freckles, his hair pushed back. “I’m not about to take advice from someone with a mullet” you scoffed and continued your walk as he protested behind you, it was hard to walk away from the opportunity to sit with him but you had to do it. You couldn’t run the risk of being any more captivated by him than you already were. 

After you returned from your walk and had been sulking in your childhood room a few hours later the time had come, like a doomsday countdown your mom stalked your door and asked why you hadn’t been out to see the horses yet. “They miss you a whole lot honey, don't know why you’re leaving 'em all high and dry like this.” She said with a slight tone of disappointment. She was right, it had been forever since you’d been in the stables and you couldn’t let Jean keep you from the horses forever, besides that wasn't fair to them. You’d just have to tough it out. Who knows maybe he’ll be somewhere else when you decided to go check up on them and perform your chores. 

You agreed with your mom and sighed as you pulled your body away from the soft comfort of your warm bed. It was boiling hot out so you needed to change it if you were going to be doing any actual work. You threw on a tank top and pair of old cut-offs you’d cut from jeans when you were 17. You looked pretty good you weren’t gonna lie to yourself. You headed downstairs out the front door and into the stables. Luckily it appeared the only living thing inside was the horses. You breathed a sigh of relief as you greeted each of them, pressing soft kisses to their noses and scratching the special spot they like behind their ears. You noticed at least two of them needed a bath, god does Jean even do anything around here besides antagonize you? 

You set your hat on a fence post and led one of the horses out into an open area where she could be bathed. You grabbed the hose and went to work scrubbing her silky mane and making sure to get her hooves as well. While you were diligently working on the task before you, Jean returned from wherever he was previously causing trouble. You caught him out of the corner of your eye just outside the big open doors of the stables talking to a tall blonde girl. “Yeah baby ‘ll see you later tonight all right,” he said in that sly seductive tone as he pushed some of her fried blonde hair behind her ear, and even worse you could see his large calloused hand resting on her ass. God you wanted to disappear right then and there, why did you have to be subjected to Jean’s promiscuous affairs? You pretended not to notice and continued working a brush through the black main of the horse in front of you “Can you believe him” you whispered to her “You probably can I guess, you must see it all the time” you said as you began to work little braids in the freshly brushed out mane. “Hey Princess picking up my slack huh” his voice came from the open doors as he stomped his way towards the other horse that needed to be bathed. “Not really, I’m just doing what needs to be done around here. Someone has to.” You scoffed in response to his obnoxious comment, how could you be so into him when he’s so aggravating?

You couldn’t stop thinking about his hand on that girl’s ass and his promise of seeing her later tonight, the look of lust behind his pretty amber eyes. Why couldn’t that be you? It’s not like his standards were high and you weren't ugly… why had he never chosen you. “What you thinking about over there pretty girl?” he said “Nothing just trying to get my work done so I can go back home” you replied nonchalantly not wanting him to see behind your facade. So you finally got your work done and succeeded in avoiding Jean for the rest of the night. You kept your promise to your sweet mom and ate your leftovers with her at the dining table before heading up to your bathroom for a hot shower. As you soaped up your body you thought of his hands, how they would feel against your soft skin, what his lips would feel like against yours, then you thought of her. About how he’s probably bottoming out in her as you were showering and the thought made you shiver. You could always check… He left his curtains open all the time, you could see what he was doing right now. No that’s pathetic. You're not 16 anymore. You quickly finished your body and wrapped yourself in a warm towel before walking back down the hall to your room to get dressed for the night. You finished up your nighttime routine, brushed out the long locks of your thick hair, and threw on a big comfy shirt you kept from one of your past boyfriends.

Walking to your bed to scroll through your phone for a little bit the curtains blew open from the movement of the air and you could briefly see into Jean’s window. You didn’t turn around, for about 5 minutes that is. You couldn’t stand not knowing what he was doing. You had to know if he kept his promise of meeting that girl, so you slowly walked over to your window and took the thin fabric of the curtain between your fingers, carefully moving it to the side.

Your fears were confirmed when you looked straight into his bedroom and saw his slender fingers digging into the hips of some girl with a terrible fake tan. Her face was contorted in pleasure and you could even hear them as Jean was making her scream around him due to their proximity. You saw his face too, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration and little strands of his brown hair making their way into his eyes, a red tint across his cheeks from exertion and a slight glimmer of sweat against his skin. You shouldn’t be watching this, this is a private moment between Jean and whoever his girl of the night was, but you couldn’t help yourself. The way his hips snapped up into her with delicious fervor just had your mind wandering about how that would feel if it was you instead. His abs contracting with each thrust had your hands wandering down the hem of your cotton panties as you sat back on the edge of your bed. Your eyes were glued to him the entire time as you slowly played with the wetness pooling between your legs, dipping your fingers inside yourself imagining they were his. You felt yourself getting closer and closer to orgasm as your breathing grew deeper and more labored. His grunts and groans were music to your ears as you felt yourself slipping over the edge. You called out his name as you let go, your body shaking with pleasure.

Your eyebrows now too were furrowed in pleasure as you watched him please the girl bouncing on top of him, You briefly shut your eyes as you got closer to your approaching high, imagining he was thrusting into you, whispering nasty things about how good you were for him. You wanted him- no you needed him so badly. As you came on your delicate fingers you opened your eyes to the pornographic scene displayed through your window, and whether you imagined it or not you could've sworn for just a second that Jean’s eyes were on you, watching your body heave up and down at the pleasure you gave yourself. But just as soon as it happened it was gone, he was whispering dirty inaudible things to the girl below him, you weren’t sure if he spotted you watching him at all. 

No, he didn’t, it was just your imagination, you decided. Jean’s never been in your room, he doesn’t know you have a view of his house from your window so why would he look in your direction at all? It just doesn't make sense.

Having found comfort in your conclusion that Jean had not caught you touching yourself for him while he fucked another girl, you quickly washed your hands and tucked yourself in for the night, dreading having to see him tomorrow. You lay in the dark and thought about the situation. You wondered if you should confront him or just pretend it never happened. Your heart raced as you tried to decide what to do.

Unfortunately, the sun rose the next morning, bringing about a new challenge of having to face Jean after the last night. You slept in for as long as you could, hoping to burn the daylight and not face him any sooner than was absolutely necessary. Your mom, however, knocked on your door around 10:30 to make sure you were feeling okay, as it was unusual for you to sleep in on the farm, thus beginning what would be a painstakingly long day. You ate a quick breakfast of microwaved oatmeal, you figured if you had to face him, it would be better to get it over with, kindly declining your mother's invitation for a home-cooked breakfast. You made your way back upstairs and threw on your uniform of a tank top, hat, and jean shorts before slowly walking towards the barn to begin your tasks for the day. Surprisingly Jean wasn’t in the barn when you arrived and instead were two new farmhands your dad recently hired from town. Teenage boys, looking for a little extra money on the side. This happened occasionally when the farm was under a little more stress than usual. You just tipped your hat to them and went on with your work as they did theirs. 

You were lugging bales of hay into a pile in the corner when you finally heard him arrive. The sound of his old pickup truck sputtering to a stop could be spotted from a million miles away. He stepped out and into the barn and surprisingly, he barely spoke to you all day. No sarcastic comments, no flirting, just a “Scuse me” every now and then when he’d accidentally bump into you.

It was nearing the end of the day which had gone at a surprisingly fast rate without being taunted by Jean. You were wrapping up your chores and started to say your goodbyes to the farm hands when he walked up to you. “Hey princess wanna come back and have a drink with me on my porch, we gotta lotta catching up to do. Wanna talk to you before you run off again.” He said in a more sincere, but slightly arrogant manner, a tone of mystery to his voice. You decided you’d have to talk to him at some point and after last night you’d have to get over your stupid little schoolgirl crush on him. You figured actually having a conversation would be good exposure therapy to get a head start on getting over him. 

So you followed in his large footsteps back to his rusty old truck he’s used to pick up countless girls and sat down in the front. He pulled out of the driveway of the stables and it was a quick 3-minute drive back to his house. The drive was quiet and the expression on Jean’s face was one you hadn’t seen in all your years of knowing him. It looked like there was a marble rolling around in his head. What was he thinking about? God, what you would do to find out. He stepped out of his old truck and swung open your door for you, what seemed like a sincerely nice action, very out of character for the Jean Kirstein you knew. You quietly followed him up the wooden stairs to a set of old dilapidated rocking chairs on his front porch. He motioned for you to take a seat, and he sat in the chair next to you. You both sat in silence as if he was waiting for you to say something. You braced yourself for whatever it was he wanted to talk about.

As you sat he flung open the screen door to his house and returned a minute later with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. He poured two drinks and handed you one. He held his glass up and said, "Cheers." You clinked glasses and sipped your drink, still anxious about not knowing what was on his mind. He leaned back, drink in one hand and the other behind his head as he rocked back in his chair. Suddenly the realization of what was happening hit you, what do you even say to him Do you know I’ve liked you for 5 years? Why were you banging that trashy blonde girl last night? Did you see me touching myself for you? Your thoughts wandered everywhere except acceptable conversation topics. You opened your mouth to try to say something, but nothing came out. You simply stared at him, unable to process the situation and all the emotions running through you, eyes focused on his piercing amber gaze.

"Missed having you 'round here princess," he said nonchalantly as he rocked back in his chair, seemingly lightening the mood. He felt the tension too and wanted to make you more comfortable. You swallowed the lump in your throat and found your voice again. You managed a small smile and replied, "Missed being here I guess." You shrugged and looked up at the ceiling before swallowing a large sip of the whiskey, hoping it would give you a little liquid courage. "Big city girl now huh? Not used to being back on the farm." He chuckled and you could feel the tension dissipate slightly, yet still uncomfortable. The question had been stirring in your brain all day. Had he seen you? Is that what he wanted to talk about? He handed you the bottle and you both sat in a brief silence, watching the fire flicker in the lanterns lighting up the doorway. "I'm still me Jean, just been gone a while that's all…” you trailed off awkwardly “Still know my way around the farm." He smiled and you felt an overwhelming sense of relief wash over you. You smiled back, grateful for the reminder that you were still the same person underneath it all. "Seems like you forgot your manners, sweetheart." He chuckled as he stretched his arms over his head, revealing the little trail of hair hiding just above the hem of his jeans as you tried not to stare for too long. 

Taken aback, you tried to understand what he meant had you said something? “Well I don’t think I’m the one who’s been rude lately Jean, you barely looked at me all day. Might’ve said all of three words.” You said with furrowed brows, your voice trailed off sounding a little angrier than intended, accidentally letting your frustration out. “Oh yeah? And why do you think that is princess?” he said a small smirk forming on his face as he sipped his whiskey. “I dunno” you whispered under your breath as you looked down at the floor to avoid his intense glare, feeling your heart speed up. “Didn’t your daddy ever tell you it’s rude to look in people’s windows” and with that your heart stopped, your hands grew clammy and you couldn’t swallow the lump in your throat. 

He knew. Fuck. Of course, he knew. That’s what this is all about. “Jean I-” you started to say before he cut you off. “Don’t apologize, princess, you think I haven't seen you staring at me, hm? Watching me workin’ out in the sun probably getting all nice and wet for me.” “I’ve been watching you too sweetheart, walking around in those tight little shorts basically beggin’ me to fuck you right there.” He said nonchalantly as if he was just asking how your day was, sipping his drink.

Were you dreaming or did Jean Kirstein, your father's favorite employee, just say he wants to fuck you. You didn’t know how to respond so you simply stuttered out what came to your mind first “B-but that girl th- the blonde one-” you said shakily, not having looked up at Jean once since the conversation took this turn.

He stood up from his creaky chair until all you could see were his muddy boots next to yours. He grabbed your face gently with his tough, calloused fingers to make you look up at him “Wanted to put on a good show for ya. ‘Was thinking about your pretty little body under me the whole time. You know how cruel you are wearing those tiny ass tank tops, showing your tits off to all the farmhands? Know how many times I’ve thought about you wiggling under me, hm? I don't give a fuck about any girl I bring back, how could I when I'm thinking of you the whole time?"

With that, as you were about to respond Jean yanked you up to stand beneath him, smoothly catching your lips in a sloppy wet kiss. The taste of whiskey on his tongue made it all the more intoxicating, the way his hands roamed your body. You couldn’t help but moan into the kiss as his tongue explored your mouth, teeth lightly grabbing your bottom lip between them. 

Without saying anything Jean lead you into his house straight to his bedroom and sat you down on his creaky bed, towering over you. He removed your clothing painstakingly slowly as his lips ghosted your neck before taking in the view below him “Even more fuckin’ sexy than I imagined” You could see him growing hard against his jeans as you tugged at his waistband “N-need you Jean, need you so bad” was all you managed to whine out. As he removed his dirty work clothes before you your eyes wandered over his toned muscles, your mind roaming a million different places from his fingers inside you to his huge cock. 

You reached for his thick cock, pretty pink tip absolutely dripping with precum but he tsked “Uh uh baby, I’m here for you, alright? Now why don't you show me how you play with yourself for me, hm?” He whispered in your ear, chill bumps racing down your spine as a vibrant red blush crossed your face. The thought of touching yourself for Jean made you both extremely embarrassed and extremely turned on 

“C’mon princess you weren’t too shy last night now were you?” He said as his teeth lightly scraped the sweet spot on your neck making you let out a soft moan. You simply shook your head and leaned back against his pillows. You took your bottom lip in between your teeth and slowly lowered your dainty fingers down to your core, you could feel your pussy already dripping down your soft inner thighs as Jean’s gaze stayed locked on you. You began rubbing slow circles on your needy clit as you looked up at him “This what you do when you make yourself cum for me?” Jean asked, his signature cocky tone returning. You nodded and started to dip one of your small fingers into your aching pussy softly whining out “Jean..” “Yeah what do you think about baby, hm?” he said inquisitively, watching every movement of your hand on your messy pussy, making him harder than he thought possible. “Think about y-your hands and how they’d feel, s-so big and strong-” you whimpered out as you added a second finger to your sopping cunt. “Yeah just my fingers, princess?” He asked cockily, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear you say it. “N-no, think about your cock too a-and your mouth…” you trailed off, voice getting quieter as you felt a familiar knot begin to build in your stomach. 

“Mhm and what about my mouth?” The thought of you getting yourself off to him turned Jean on so much and he needed more, needed to know exactly what you thought about. “Y-your tongue, all over my pussy a-and sucking on my clit-” you were cut off as your orgasm ripped through you, overcoming you like waves crashing on a beach, eyes squinted shut. you were accustomed to making yourself cum fast due to your very little free time. 

Jean saw you unravel beneath him, mouth slightly agape as your juices pooled around your small fingers. As you pulled them out Jean replaced them with his rough thumb, rubbing lazy circles on your over-sensitive clit. You wined out and dug your fingers into his muscular back as he touched you “If you can’t take this baby, how are you gonna take my cock?” He chuckled as he squeezed one of his long slender fingers into your tight cunt. “So fucking wet for me…” he said pulling his fingers out and spreading them in front of you to showcase your wetness before sliding them into your mouth “Be a good girl and taste yourself for me m’kay?” He said eyes filled with lust as you sucked his long fingers deeper into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them as you tasted the tangy stickiness of your cum. 

“Such a good fuckin’ slut for me aren’t you?” He said as he removed his fingers, shoving them back into your pussy harshly making you gasp “Probably thought about this a million times huh, me having my fucking way with you. ‘M gonna fuck you like the slut you are, always teasin’ me when I’m at work” your pussy clenched at his words and he chuckled “yeah you like that don’t you? Like me calling you a fuckin’ slut” You nodded as he removed his fingers and moved your hands to your knees “Hold these pretty legs open for me while I eat this pussy okay baby?” He said in a commanding tone before using his ring and middle fingers to spread your pussy open for him “So fuckin pink and wet for me god, this is the prettiest fuckin pussy I’ve ever seen” he said before lowering his mouth onto your swollen clit, tongue doing figure eights all over your dripping pussy. You could feel his scruff against your skin as his hair tickled your soft thighs “Taste so sweet for me baby, said you want me to suck on your clit right?” He asked making direct eye contact with you as you nodded, he removed his mouth from your desperate pussy before saying “Good girls use their words, sweetheart" with a deviant smile “Y-yes Jean I w-want your tongue on my clit” you said, embarrassed at how he had you sprawled out in front of him, already willing to do whatever he wanted. “That’s a good girl” he smiled before attaching his mouth back on your sensitive pussy, sucking and lapping at you like he was never going to eat again. It felt so good you couldn’t control yourself as his skilled tongue ran over you, tears forming in your eyes, knees shaking as his name rolled off your tongue like a mantra.

Before you knew it you were cumming all over his face “Yeah there you go princess, give me all of it, want all of your fuckin’ cum” he said as his tongue continued to assault your swollen clit, riding out your orgasm until he was completely satisfied. You looked so fucked out beneath him and he hadn’t even given you his cock yet, but you needed it, you craved it. Needed the way you knew it would stretch out your tight walls. “Turn over for me baby,” he said placing a soft kiss on your cheek, wiping away a stray tear that has fallen on your flushed face as a result of your earth-shattering orgasm. You turned your body over onto your elbows, chest flat against the bed and round ass in the air as you heard Jean stroke his cock a few times. “Been thinking about fuckin’ this tight little pussy for so long baby” he said as he caressed the soft skin of your ass before pressing a harsh slap into the skin, seeing it turn red for him. “You want my cock, huh?” he asked cockily as he spanked you again. “P-please Jean I need your cock” you managed to whine out “I can tell baby, your pussy is just fucking dripping down your thighs onto my sheets, making such a fucking mess.” He chuckled as you moaned at his words, dragging his aching pink tip up and down your wet slit just to tease you. "P-please Jean, I need it-" you begged before he slapped his fat tip against your clit making you whimper. "You need it huh? Beg me, baby, beg for my cock." He smirked as you bucked your hips backward hoping to feel him enter you "Please Jean, please, fuck I need your cock so bad, wanna feel it stretch me out, please please please." You whined pathetically under him before he harshly thrust his painfully hard thick cock into your aching pussy, molding you around him. You screamed as he bottomed out in you immediately, making you take every inch “C’mon baby, weren't you just beggin' for this? Take it like the good little slut you are.” he said as his hips picked up their rhythm, snapping his long cock into your tight cunt, tight balls hitting your clit with every thrust making you go absolutely brain dead for him. You loved the way he stretched you out, his thick cock bullying his way into your tight pussy had you screaming for him so loud you were sure the neighbors could hear.

“So. Fucking. Tight.” He said punctuating each word with a thrust rougher than the last “Wish you could see this tight pussy creaming all over my cock” he said, eyes focused on the white ring forming at his base from both your cum and his. “Fuck, not gonna last long with you squeezing me like this princess,” he said, spanking your ass, making you moan into his sheets. “J-jean ‘m gonna..” “I know baby, I can feel that tight pussy squeezing ‘round me” he replied squeezing his eyes shut from the pleasure, going faster as his thrusts got sloppier. You came quickly at his increased speed, releasing your juices all over his cock. This turned him on more than he thought was possible 

“Fuck ‘m gonna stuff you with my cum okay? Gonne cum deep inside this pretty pussy” You didn’t reply as you were completely fucked out, soon he released deep inside you, balls tightening as he pumped every last drop of his hot sticky cum inside you. You could feel his warm seed paint the inside of your walls white so deep inside you. He fucked his cum deep inside you, riding out his orgasm before pulling out to watch it drip down your thighs. “So pretty for me,” he said turning you back over onto your back before placing a soft, romantic kiss on your lips. “You gotta stop wearing those little shorts ‘round here okay? Makes me fuckin’ sick seeing the other guys stare at you like that.” “Oh you jealous?” you giggled, feeling a happy warm feeling at the thought of Jean being possessive “Damn right I’m jealous. From now on I’m the only one that gets to see that ass okay?” He said as he pulled you closer onto his warm chest, wrapping his strong arm around you. You could smell the strong scent of his masculine cologne and closed your eyes next to him “Mhm” you nodded as you started to drift off to sleep. Jean didn’t usually let his hookups sleepover, he knew you would be more than that. 

[beenbaanbuun]

PLS ELABORATE ON TOO SWEET WITH COUNTRY BOY MINGI 🙏

OKAY SO!!!

country boy mingi is definitely the type to think that his whole life is all doom and gloom. he’s stuck in this tiny town working as a farm hand for some rich guy that hardly pays him enough the amount of work he does on that farm. he has a truck that barely runs and every night he drives it home to his shitty apartment that just so happens to be above the local bar. he spends his hard earned money on a whiskey, neat, before dragging himself upstairs to bed, only for the same exact day to repeat tomorrow.

it’s no wonder the man is a cynic…

but then one day, maybe a month or so into working at the farm, he meets you; the groundskeepers daughter. clad in a beautiful white summer dress and a pair of beat up boots, you might actually be the most beautiful creature he’s ever seen. it makes him feel small at the side of you, like he is somehow less than you. he’s never doubted his social standing before, yet something about the way your beauty radiates from you has him feeling insecure.

but then, in a twist of fate, he sees you walk right up to the fence that borders the horse paddock. you climb it, jumping over the top and landing on both feet when you hit the ground on the other side. it looks like you’d had practice doing it, and maybe you have. after all, mingi’s only been working there for a month or so.

“hello,” you call from across the field as you start to walk towards him. there’s a wide grin on your face that has mingi’s heart stuttering in his chest. he can’t quite believe this angel is talking to him, a lowly farmhand covered head to toe in dust, straw and horse muck. he gulps down the anxious lump in his throat as you grow closer to him, trying his hardest to don his usual cocky persona before he shows himself up in front of you. the last thing he wants is for his voice to crack or something…

“hey there, doll,” he calls out, mentally patting himself on the back for keeping his composure. it’s a lot harder than he makes it seem, “what’s a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?”

“a field?” you tilt your head in confusion. mingi scolds himself for saying something so utterly stupid, “nothing much; just thought i’d finally come and introduce myself to you!”

you stick a hand out, your perfectly manicured nails glistening under the hot southern sun. mingi’s eyes flicker down to his own hands, scuffed and calluses from hours of hard labour. he knows his nails are black with dirt and his fingertips are blistered from shovelling horse manure for hours on end. it’s nothing he’s ever been embarrassed about before but you’re just so ethereal that for some reason he feels bad about even being in your presence.

still, he was raised a gentleman. he takes your hand in his, shaking it once before dropping it again. not quite quick enough for him not to realise just how soft your skin in, or how warm your tiny little hand feels in his own. he shoos away the daydreams that flutter around his mind like butterflies. it’s not like they’ll ever come true, so why waste the time of day thinking about them.

“you’re mingi, right?” you speak up again, your voice sounding like music to his ears. it’s like the sound of a stream on a hot summers day, or the birds that sing when the sun first rises. it reminds him of childhood summers, so carefree and tender. they seemed to last forever; mingi wishes he could hear your voice forever. “my daddy was telling me about you, but he never mentioned how handsome you are.”

mingi’s mind short circuits at that. you say it so innocently but he’s sure you’re flirting with him. you! flirting with him! this is better than christmas. better than all those childhood summers stacked together. his heart soars and his stomach erupts in a flurry of butterflies.

heavens, you’re sweet…

like a little cube of sugar in his coffee that he normally takes black. a little honey in his neat whiskey. he never really liked sweet things, preferring things to match the bitterness of his life. not you, though…

you he doesn’t quite mind being so sweet…

[toubledrouble]

More pjo/hoo headcanons

Apollo kids exclusively work out with musics as a cabin, but they always argue about the playlist that should be chosen. Will uses councillor privilege to force them to pick country.

The Athena cabin has a projector for sure

Also, they have youtube premium because of lofi music

Apollo kids have been banned from using guns in training with others (they recreated the ten duel commandments from Hamilton and actually ended up shooting without missing the target. Now, they can only shoot on regular targets, not living ones)

Hephaestus and Athena kids are a living proof of the "an architect's dream is an engineer's nightmare" thing

There is definitely an Athena kid out there that hates math with a burning passion. Their mom isn't very happy about that.

Despite their rivalry, many Apollo kids have Ares cabin bffs - after all, they spend lots of time in the infirmary

Ares kids usually have a great relationship with their father - he is surprisingly encouraging and supportive

Will can definitely ride a horse and you can't convince me otherwise

Also. His mom has a yellow pickup truck with tons of stickers and a guitar on the backseat

Sally refused to use the subway ever since Percy was born (you know how the underground always smells like monsters and that's why Grover didn't notice the chimera? That was exactly why)

Percy used to cry in the seafood section of stores, especially if it had anything living there

Athena kids can achieve Eminem speed during debate, I will not elaborate any further

Oh also. They're not straight As kids, or at least not all of them, especially the older ones. I mean, the school system vs learning disorders? There's no way they're winning that fight entirely. They probably have the subjects they like and ace, and then the subject that are just there, and since they're not failing, they don't really care (yes this is about me getting a C from physics again, I hate physics)

Annabeth loves the "further is for physical distance, farther for metaphorical and father for emotional" tumblr post

Hera's cabin has a family portrait of the olympians, it's quite a bittersweet sight

Let Demeter kids have a scythe as their weapon of choice pls

Athena kids make so many lame nerd puns. Occasionally, a Hephaestus kid or a secret nerd will laugh.

Athena kids are definitely the type to fight the teacher about their grade. They will gather evidence that their answer is technically correct and either impress or annoy the teacher so much they will actually change their grade

All Athena kids have a resting bitch face (just like Hermes kids have a face that says they're troublemakers)

Hermes kids are naturally skilled at orientation on a map and in terrain

Hephaestus and Hermes cabin have once held a lock-picking competition (based on speed but also the amount of damage caused)

Every single person in the Athena cabin has seen both Dead Poets Society and School of Rock (and loved it)

For an absolutely nonexistent reason I think the Aphrodite cabin has some pro tip for washing blood out of clothes and stuff

Very stereotypical of me but in the Ares cabin, the strongest is the leader and their word is law, if you disagree, you gotta participate in a one on one fight of choice (it doesn't matter that much if you win, at least you still prove your bravery and the courage to stand up for what you believe in). Meanwhile, the Athena cabin votes on everything. And yes, they are proud of it. And yes, they have senate level debates where everyone uses whatever dirt they have on the others to win (because they probably know too much gossip without even really intending to) sometimes. Only sometimes.

Also. They have ostrakism which is basically a thing where you break a pot/vase/something, each person gets a piece and carves on the name of someone who is endangering democracy in their option. The person with the most votes gets chased out I think. Athena kids have changed up that part, they simply ban that person from voting for 6 months.

Athena kids with learning disorders. That's all I want to say.

Mentioning my previous 'Athena cabin has a Pallas cat' headcanon

Also Athena kids are the people who will point out historical stuff behind the names of places or companies (example: my country has a shopping centre called palladium, i instill the lore of the original palladium on anyone unfortunate enough to be there with me)

Apollo kids personalise their instruments - stickers, paint, carved initials, cool straps and other accessories, you name it!

They also have a whole row of those instrument hangers, yk what i mean?

[kindred-spirit-93]

ulysses dies at dawn

good god this was quite the ride. thoughts!!

i walked in knowing nothing except its cyberpunk setting and gfdsdfgfdasdfsdf mind successfully blown

i love the narration so much. idk its refreshing to me at least in music. very creative and effective way to present info. big fan :D

i am very musically illiterate lol so apologies in advance, but the genre at first listen to me instantly made me think of bluegrass.

listen theres a violin and a banjo esque intrument (sounds like a shamisen to me lol) its close enough

anyway absolutely brilliant music, i like the juxtaposition of a futuristic premise & a somewhat older more grounded music style (i want to say country but i also dont want to be hunted down lol)

favourite songs are broken hahse horse and sunrise lol

my jaw dropped when the horse was scanned for everyhting including hidden soldiers (i wont spoil too much pls go listen) but there was a thing and it made everyone do things and *combusts*

interesting choice of characters! heracles orpheus ariadne and oedipus. i need art of them in 3 piece pinstripe suits nowwwww

took me a minute to get the mf joke lmao. nearly choked

orpheus my poor boi omg all he wants is his girl back :')

fuck u theseus. i feel bad for ariadne honestly. i wonder if in another reality she and dio also had something?

hades! being the villain isnt my favourite thing bc im biased as hell, but i do love the idea of him orchestrating shit for his amusement

the worldbuilding itself is amazing btw, the concept of acheron is quite fascinating and very sinister.

zeus is the worst omg eugh. the olympians are a mafia family lol

i love calypso having a bar idk why its such a funny concept to me. in my mind she and antinous own the place lol (epic crackship crossover no one can stop meeeee)

penelope my beloved. the end hit me like a truck. it was pretty fast like i barely had time to register the events as the story progressed (also i was studying so half my brain was elsewhere lol)

sunrise is the best song ever my ears have been blessed. the melody is ethereal i can literally hear the leaves rustling and feel the faint sunlight

according to the wiki the tree is an oak and ngl idve preferred olive but ig u cant have everything in life lol

the imagery is on another level. i never wished i could draw & animate so much in my life. i want to draw ulysses' last moments, crawling to the roots of the tree under which her remains rest

united once more in death as they were in life :')))))))

trying really hard to stay sane u guys and its getting harder augh

[k4lenz]

NSFW RANT BELOW THE CUT ok i watched Australia (the movie) (can’t believe i haven’t watched it until now im literally from Australia)

UM ITS SOOOO GOOD?!

i was tweaking out the whole time because HUGH JACKMAN LOOKS ACTUALLY SO GYATT DAMN FINE IN TS MOVIE picture evidence below

unhinged NSFW rant below the cut pls beware

and there’s scenes where he’s talking to a horse trying to train her i think because he’s a drover who needs to ride horses obviously, and UGH he’s literally just whispering “shhh shhh good girl” like you can’t do this to me.

i literally said to my friend that i need to lick down that vein he has going down his lower abdomen. I NEED TO. (for scientific purposes). save a horse ride a cowboy. i need him biblically! he could run me over with his ute (truck) and id say thankyou. i need to for a swim with him and then suck his dick on the riverbank. i need to bounce up and down and ride him in the back of his Ute bouncing up and down until im drooling and whining and crying. all day all night every position until the sun rises. i want him to breed me. 😔🙏

he looks like actually so sexy in this movie and the plot is also really good not even joking everybody needs to watch this movie.

love yall!

[eth-edwards-73]

country girl

Mark Estapa x reader warnings: none

your username = y/n your best friend's username = y/bsf/u your dad's username = y/d/u your mom's username = y/m/u

liked by edwards.73 and 9.238 others markestapa she’s countryyyy 🤠 edwards.73 finally telling people ab her > markestapa ofc can’t keep her all to myself forever

dylanduke25 a country girl is a woman who lives in or is from the countryside and not a town > liked by creator

rutgermcgroarty does she ride you as good as she rides her horse > markestapa RUTGER WHAT THE FUCK > rutgermcgroarty it’s just a question no need to freak > markestapa in case you forgot this is my public acc > y/bsf/u 😭

y/u from the song she plays to the prayer she prays > markestapa that’s the way she was born and raised > y/u she ain’t afraid to stayyy > markestapa countryyyy > edwards.73 brother she’s countryyyy > markestapa go away dude > y/u yeah EtHaN get out of here

nolan_moyle stop sign is finally growing up > markestapa you bet i am

user126 no fk way @user129 > user89 nooo not him too

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liked by markestapa and 12.573 others y/u country girl (shake it for me)

markestapa got a little boom in my big truck > y/u gonna open up the doors and turn it up

y/bsf/u YOU ACC GOT HIM ON A HORSE > y/u hell yeah he’s been going out riding with the dad every single day > y/bsf/u good for himmm

rutgermcgroarty save a horse ride a cowboy > y/u @nolan_moyle come get your freshie pls > nolan_moyle fridge please stop this madness > rutgermcgroarty ay ay captain

user19 why does this girl have the umich hockey players in her comments > user56 something isn’t adding up  > user23 facts

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liked by y/u and 14.928 others markestapa my girls <33

edwards.73 wdym girls? > markestapa check the second slide bud > edwards.73 you have a horse?! > markestapa yeh, potential father in law got it for me > lhughes_06 he got you a horse? > markestapa yeah he likes me 

y/d/u keep her safe son > markestapa will do sir

user93 why did y/n’s dad comment

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liked by markestapa and 15.293 others y/u former hockey boy + horse aka my boys ❤️ tagged: markestapa

markestapa i love you <3 > y/u i love you more <3 > lhughes_06 this is some serious cheesy shit > y/u stfu you bitter bitch > lhughes_06 mark pls come get your girl

edwards.73 wym former he’s returning after summer > dylanduke25 this

y/bsf/u you guys are so cute i can’t > liked by markestapa and y/u 

mackie.samo HARD LAUNCHHH 

user156 we’ve officially lost Mark

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liked by y/u and 12.039 others markestapa when she trusts you with her horse >>> tagged: y/u 

y/u loveeee > markestapa i love you to babe  > dylanduke25 too* > markestapa whatever

y/m/u best son in law > markestapa thank you miss y/l/n > y/m/u i told you to just call me y/m/n

edwards.73 you are so whipped it’s absolutely disgusting > y/bsf/u shut tf up edwards they’re adorable 

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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

idk how to feel ab tbh but meh i might make a story out of this

[lovergirllane]

Cowboy Lovin’ (J.M)

Warning(s); Smut!, Piv sex!, Daddy kink,age gap,Joel is in his 40’s reader’s in her early 20’s,make out session,mention of weed, use of drugs (weed),Oral (R Receiving), semi public sex,outdoor sex.

Pairing(s); Neighbor!Joel Miller x Afab!Fem!Reader.

Summary; you’re home for the summer.

A/n; this is the longest thing I’ve written in a hot minute, pls enjoy and if you like this pls check out some of my old works on @bellaramseysgf & @billyslittledolly <3

You had missed your smaller home town however you didn’t regret choosing a out of state college. The small town had no place for your career path,the small town had less than 1000 people inside its barrier.

Though you couldn’t truly admit it you missed your neighbor the most. He was everything a small town cowboy would be. Polite,kind, a honest sweetheart but stand off-ish at first. His daughter was friends with your younger sibling causing him to be there most days.

You smiled to yourself seeing his truck parked in your driveway as you pulled up to your house. You hadn’t brought much from school just the necessity’s.

You had walked inside and were bombarded by your younger sibling smiling as you hugged them tightly. “How you been looser?” You asked and they began rambling on about what they’d done while you were gone.

Your parents came to hug you next before you finally locked eyes with Joel. You felt your whole body heat up after catching his gaze.

You and Joel had a rather….complicated relationship. After his wife left when you were freshly 18 the man took over your life. You don’t even truly know what turned inside you but you jumped on him every chance you got. Joel was more than happy to oblige.

You hadn’t seen him since you left 5 months ago. He looked different but the same, he had scruff and part of a beard growing on his face. He looked to be stronger and more fit, he also had cut his hair.

You broke the stare before anyone could notice mumbling a quick hello to him and his daughter both.

It was later in the evening when you were finally getting a chance to unpack that there was a knock on your door. You turned to see Joel in your doorway leaning against the frame.

“Hey kiddo” he spoke and you sighed when his voice still made your hair stand up in the best possible way. “Your dad said you were looking for a job this summer” he added and you nodded as you sat your make up onto your vanity.

“I need some help around the Ranch if you’re interested”

He had another daughter now. Why did he need any help?

“Joel, Don’t you have Ellie now? Why do you need my help?” You asked as you continued to unpack your vanity. “It’s not a need…more of a want..” he said and you shrugged in response.

You tried to not let you excitement show as you turned to look at him “sure, easy money for me” you said like you didn’t have a care in the world. “Mmm, Perfect be there tomorrow at 9” he said and you nodded.

You already knew that you weren’t gonna be helping with anything around the ranch what so ever.

The next morning you were up,dressed, and out of the house before 8 knowing that if you got there early you’d get even more time with him and boy were you right.

“That’s it, good girl” he praised as you took his cock all the way into the back of your throat. You were on your knees in front of him his back pressed to his bedroom door. He had both hands settled on your head as he choked out moans.

“Fuck, yes- so good!” You knew by his constant babbling that he was close and sure enough with a couple more moves of your head he was releasing down your throat with a groan.

That’s how your days started, most days with you pleasuring him, he would always return the favor of course and fuck you brainless.

You and Ellie had unexpectedly become close mainly off the fact you both smoked, late at night when she thought her dad was asleep she’d come over and share a joint with you.

It was late one night and you and her were giggling about Joel falling off his horse earlier in the day. “I know! He just hit the ground like a sack of potatoes!” She laughed as she blew smoke out and handed you the smoking paper.

“Yes! That horse was like ‘that’s enough’” you replied urging another fit of laughter before you inhaled the smoke. The joint got passed a few more times before the pair of you heard your worst nightmare.

“Ellie Miller!” You both cringed when you heard Joel’s voice from behind the pair of you. “We’ve been caught! Run!” You exclaimed and the pair of you really had every intention to but neither of you did. Instead, you both just let out another round of giggling.

“Ellie! Home! Now!” He commanded and she let out a huff followed by “yeah yeah” as she walked past him and through your house. “Just what kind of influence are you having on my 17 year old daughter?” He asked and you shrugged snuffing the joint out in the tray.

“A fun one?” You offered but were met with a stern look and rolled your eyes “it’s just a little fun okay? She’s fine it’s not like it can hurt her” Joel let out a sigh “how can you be this reckless! This could ruin her life!” “Oh my god, grow up Joel. You’re fucking your neighbors daughter who’s half your age, that could ruin her life. Not some measly drug” you let out a huff once you were done and stood up.

“It’s a little weed, Chill” you shoved past him and he grabbed your arm before you were met with his lips on yours. It was quickly heated and turned into him slamming you against the side of your house as his tongue ran over yours.

His hands dropped to hike up the dress you were wearing,he spun you around with force making you use your hands to catch yourself. Your dress was pushed up feeling the soft material fall around your waist made you squeeze your thighs together.

It was even more exciting that your parents were right on the other side of this wall you heard the clanking of his belt and soon enough you were filled with his cock.

You let out a quiet gasp as he entered until he was settled at his base inside you, he let out a sigh in return before he began thrusting in and out at a steady pace.

The hot night air was soon filled with moans from the both of you as he worked you both closer to your release

Everything felt way more intense now that your high was finally in full blast your head felt floaty and you let out a sigh, leaning to set your head on his chest. “You feeling it?” He asked and you let out a weak moan in response.

“I know baby, I know.” He said as his hand stroked over your stomach “must feel so good” you let out a squeal when he thrusted harder and hit a sensitive spot you didn’t know you had. “Daddy!” You moaned. “Shh shhh, daddy’s here. Gotta stay quiet baby” he whispered.

He shifted and wrapped his arms tightly around your waist before he let out a few grunts and began to fuck into you faster. You let out as quite of moans as you could as he slammed into you each thrust knocking another “daddy!” From your throat.

You were nearing your end and he was too, a few more thrusts and you were both sent flying over the edge as he mumbled sweet praises into your ear over and over until you were both settled.

It took you awhile the waves still making your body tremble for a while as he gently rubbed your stomach mumbling about how good you were.

“Now, is that attitude of yours fixed?” He asked and you let out a sigh as you nodded sleepily. “Good girl, let’s get you cleaned up and tucked in bed.”

[lorelodge]

gomez & morticia !

The Ultimate Relationship Meme

Gomez & Morticia

GENERAL:

• Rate the Ship -   Awful | Ew | No pics pls | I’m not comfortable | Alright | I like it! | Got Pics? | Let’s do it! | Why is this not getting more attention?! | The OTP to rule all other OTPs

• How long will they last? - Until death do they part (and maybe even after that).

• How quickly did/will they fall in love? - Immediately. Rom com level love at first sight. They hadn't even known each other 24 hours and they already knew they wanted to be married.

• How was their first kiss? - Incredible and they're still having it as we speak.

WEDDING:

• Who proposed? - Gomez.

• Who is the best man/men? - Uncle Fester and Lurch.

• Who is the bridesmaid(s)? - Thing and Ophelia.

• Who did the most planning? - Morticia.

• Who stressed the most? - Gomez.

• How fancy was the ceremony? - Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

• Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - It wasn't that anyone was specifically not invited. They invited the neighborhood and basically nobody showed up besides family. No. They didn't notice or care.

SEX:

• Who is on top? - They'll switch off but usually it's Morticia tbh.

• Who is the one to instigate things? - It depends on their mood but usually Morticia looks at Gomez and that's really all he needs before he has the overwhelming desire to devour her with kisses.

• How healthy is their sex life? - Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now

• How kinky are they? - Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

• How long do they normally last? - Until the morning dungeon bells.

• How rough are they in bed? - Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.

• How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.

CHILDREN:

• How many children will they have naturally? -They technically don't have any "natural" births the way you or I may think of it. Both children are biologically theirs. Ophelia was their surrogate for Pugsley. His blonde hair and cheery demeanor comes from her. The second time around they decided to have a cauldron baby, hence Wednesday appearing as an exact replica of her mum.

• How many children will they adopt? - None.

• Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - They equally handle the diapers. But they don't consider it "getting stuck" since they love their children, even at their most incontinent.

• Who is the stricter parent? - Lurch & Mama Addams.

• Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - Lurch & Thing.

• Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - Pugsley & Lurch.

• Who is the more loved parent? - Their kids both love them equally. Gomez is considered the more "fun" parent but Morticia offers good advice.

• Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? Both. They are both very invested in their children. Gomez may have a slight lead but both try to be there. Even if one of them can't be there in person they will use a spell to appear in one of the nearby mirrors so they can get the lowdown.

• Who cried the most at graduation? - Gomez.

• Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - Morticia because Gomez is probably in jail with them.

COOKING:

• Who does the most cooking? - Morticia will often help Mama Addams cook. She has a knack for even the most complex recipes. Sometimes Gomez will help but he doesn't have the same black thumb.

• Who is the most picky in their food choice? - Gomez can be very finicky. He loves home cooked meals and considers the gourmet restaurants he occasionally is forced to endure to be icky. I mean, how can they consider themselves gourmet when they never have witches brew!

• Who does the grocery shopping? - They home grow a lot of ingredients and source others from the swamp. Occasionally Lurch has to visit a grocery store. Thing accompanies him for moral support.

• How often do they bake desserts? - Does baking cyanide brownies count as desert? If so they bake those together every so often... or Momma Addams bakes while Gomez & Morticia keeps her company.

• Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - Home grown, exotic vegetables that will make your skin crawl (literally) and meats imported from the spookiest corners of the earth. They aren't picky.

• Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - they surprise. Gomez will surprise Morticia French Batwings and the finest slime spread; Morticia whips out an old family recipe for the finest cauldron stew.

• Who is more likely to suggest going out? - gomez

• Who is more likely to burn the house down accidently while cooking? - Pugsley and Gomez trying to make a Mothers Day surprise. 

CHORES:

• Who cleans the room? - Lurch.  

• Who is really against chores? - Nobody, really. They'll all do chores if they absolutely have to, but also what else do they have Lurch for if not to do those chores for them. 

• Who cleans up after the pets? - Lurch & Morticia.

• Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - Uncle Fester.

• Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - Morticia.

• Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? -Lurch and it's more like $100.

MISC:

• Who takes the longer showers/baths? - bold of you to assume they would take separate showers/baths. As if they could bear to be apart for that long.

• Who takes the dog out for a walk? - They don't have a dog but Pugsley and Wednesday like to take Kitty out for walks much to their neighbors dismay.

• How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - Their home is perpetually decorated for spooky holidays. On Halloween they break out their scariest decore (Christmas lights & more). On Christmas they put out their most welcoming gargoyles and leave out cyanide cookies in the shape of bats.

• What are their goals for the relationship? - Be happy. Be good parents. Love each other more every day.

• Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - They think they're early risers because they wake up at 2pm (while the sun is still up) and don't go to bed until 6-7am (sun is just coming up).

• Who plays the most pranks? - Gomez and Thing.

[baatarthefirst]

Janai / Amaya

ULTIMATE SHIP MEME!

Send in two (or more) names and I’ll fill all this out about the ship!

General:

Rate the Ship -   Awful | Ew | No pics pls | I’m not comfortable | Alright | I like it! | Got Pics? | Let’s do it! | Why is this not getting more attention?! | The OTP to rule all other OTPs

How long will they last? - Till Death

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - Fairly quickly 

How was their first kiss? - They were sad, it was a kiss goodbye, they thought they'd never see each other again.

Wedding:

Who proposed? -  Janai

Who is the best man/men? - Gren/Kazi

Who is the braid’s maid(s)? - Gren/Kazi

Who did the most planning? - Amaya

Who stressed the most? -  Janai

How fancy was the ceremony? - Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - Karim

Sex:

Who is on top? - (this one needs it's own post) they switch, technically, though I'd give it a 60/40 in favor of Janai

Who is the one to instigate things? - Both, 60/40 in favor of Amaya

How healthy is their sex life? - Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now [now if they weren't busy leaders with responsibilities]

How kinky are they? - Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

How long do they normally last? - It varies

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? -  They do try, sometimes it just doesn't work that way.

How rough are they in bed? - Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it. [depends on the mood]

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? - None

How many children will they adopt? - 1 (Karim/Miyana's orphan)

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? -  Janai, Amaya can't hear to wake up to nighttime diapers.

Who is the stricter parent? - Janai tries to be a strict aunt. doesn't work, but damnit, she tries.

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - Janai.

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - Amaya

Who is the more loved parent? - Depends on if they're in trouble or not. They are a little closer to Amaya.

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? Amaya

Who cried the most at graduation? - Amaya

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - Either, but honestly, they'd rather be in the hands of the law than face whatever punishments the queens have in store.

Cooking: 

Who does the most cooking? - Don't ask either to cook.

Who is the most picky in their food choice? - Janai.

Who does the grocery shopping? - The servants.

How often do they bake desserts? - they get desserts 3 times weekly

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - no salads are allowed. period. But Janai is a vegetarian, so also, no meat. 

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - Janai

Who is more likely to suggest going out? - Amaya

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidently while cooking? - Janai. she'd get frustrated, go into heat-being mode and well...

Chores: 

Who cleans the room? - Both. Military efficiency.

Who is really against chores? - Neither.

Who cleans up after the pets? - Both

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - In an extreme hurry, Amaya.

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - Janai

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - Janai.

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? - Amaya

Who takes the dog out for a walk? -Amaya

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - Every one. Amaya does it.

What are their goals for the relationship? - Goals? Those are things for their peoples. Their relationship is the one -ONE- thing they don't have to overthink or stress about meeting some goal

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - Neither.

Who plays the most pranks? - Amaya

[sparethcsympathy]

Michelle and Soldier Boy for ship memeee 💕

ULTIMATE SHIP MEME! || @twiicetheheart

General:

Rate the Ship -   Awful | Ew | No pics pls | I’m not comfortable | Alright | I like it! | Got Pics? | Let’s do it! | Why is this not getting more attention?! | The OTP to rule all other OTPs

How long will they last? - Fucking. Forever.

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - I don't wanna say too quick, and i don't wanna say it took forever for them also. least for soldier boy, the second something happens to her that involves dealing with homelander. whether she was hurt-- or just feelings hurt, i think seeing the look on her face--- broken and all, that's when he realizes... that he hates seeing her sad, hurt--- and that's when it hits him that he loves her.

How was their first kiss? - oh my god. you know michi and i haven't talked about that, but i do have an idea of when they first kiss. def think it's when he tells her about his past-- like his real past, and also telling Michelle about his time with the russians-- maybe not entirely, because lbr he's still trying to block our most of his trauma and also probably can't recall what ELSE they done to him. -- but i imagine when he finally gives his name to Michelle, not his supe name. his real name. like letting her in--- fully. which he hasn't done in a long time. and also i think Soldier boy would be the one to make the move first, it would have been soft. despite who he is, cause he's not a soft man-- but with Michelle ? he's definitely got a soft spot for her. It would have been sweet and slow, filled with so much emotion, want & just vulnerable.

Wedding:

Who proposed? - lbr soldier boy would. he's old school. man bs.

Who is the best man/men? - .... nobody. LMAO WHAT FRIENDS ? xD

Who is the braid’s maid(s)? - damn idk. starlight maybe xD though she's gonna be like Michelle--- him ? LMAO idk guess we gotta see what bg characters are Michelle's friends.

Who did the most planning? - Michelle would. but why do I feel like she would try to still have him involved in SOME STUFF.

Who stressed the most? - Michelle. She's planning it after all.

How fancy was the ceremony? - Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? -

Sex:

Who is on top? - soldier boy is top dog-- but that doesn't mean he won't switch to let Michelle *cough cough* ride him.

Who is the one to instigate things? - soldier boy ! LMAO C'MON how can he not ? she's a babe.

How healthy is their sex life? - Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now

How kinky are they? - Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

How long do they normally last? - listen soldier boy is a supe, he's never out of energy he's always up for it, and also women can last so ayyye ! these two can go hand in hand-- unless Michelle gotta be somewhere and THEN a quickie is in the works.

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - yes, soldier boy definitely is a man when it comes to wanting his women to cum. so yes, he will make sure she reaches climax before him ( which also means he cares about her, putting her needs before his )

How rough are they in bed? - Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it. // SO i think they can be both. cause it's SB and he def would have soft moments with Michelle, but also he's a dirty talker when needed.

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? - maybe two. soldier boy did say he wanted to be a dad after all.

How many children will they adopt? - none sorry kiddos.

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - Michelle but don't think she doesn't have soldier boy help-- she makes his ass.

Who is the stricter parent? - soldier boy ? in some parts, and Michelle in other parts. so equal-- but Michelle still would be softer.

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - Michelle LMAO

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - also Michelle

Who is the more loved parent? - i think they are both loved. but the kids would def be clinging to Michelle more.

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? - Michelle. can you imagine soldier boy ? god no.

Who cried the most at graduation? - Michelle. soldier boy @ himself was like : don't you dare cry pussy. don't do it-- fuck I'm crying shit.

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - soldier boy lbr. he's like i got you kid, i got you don't tell your mother.

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? - michelle. soldier boy can't cook for shit.

Who is the most picky in their food choice? - i think Michelle. cause soldier boy looks like he has more of an appreciation for good after being in the box for a long ass time.

Who does the grocery shopping? - Michelle. listen soldier boy did it once, and he only got meat/jerky/junk food/beer

How often do they bake desserts? - i think Michelle does it a lot when she has the time. cause she seems like she knows how to bake real good.

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - soldier boy loves meat. I see Michelle being our salad girl for sure.

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - Michelle would be the one to do this. soldier boy though will surprise her-- and try to cook.... :) didn't go well though.

Who is more likely to suggest going out? - soldier boy cause he can't cook to save a life, and to take her out and show off his lady.

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidently while cooking? - soldier boy.... for sure.

Chores:

Who cleans the room? - Michelle does

Who is really against chores? - Soldier boy lmao !

Who cleans up after the pets? - both do. if they have

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - SOLDIER BOY

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - neither do. cause do they really have people come over ? LMAO.

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - michelle. so it's hers now :) !

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? - both. both do.

Who takes the dog out for a walk? - if they have one i think they would both do it together.

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - Michelle does it for each and every holiday, and also ben enjoys it cause he's been gone for a long time-- and like i said i think appreciates things more.

What are their goals for the relationship? - stay alive is number one for sure. but also have each other back no matter what.

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - neither

Who plays the most pranks? - neither