#hot bacon dressing

[spencerjohan]

Green Salad - Frisee Salad with Hot Bacon Dressing Frisee lettuce has a slightly bitter taste but when tossed with a sweet and tangy, warm bacon dressing, it's simply delicious!

[warnerdale]

Sauces and Condiments - Hot Bacon Dressing This hot bacon dressing is easily made with crunchy bacon bits in a sweet, thickened vinaigrette for a warm, tangy topping for salads or veggies.

[yasisalek]

Hot Bacon Dressing Recipe This warm, tangy topping for salads or vegetables is made simply by combining crunchy bacon bits with a sweet, thickened vinaigrette. 8 slices bacon, 3 teaspoons cornstarch, 1/2 cup white vinegar, 1/2 teaspoon salt, 1.5 cups white sugar, 1/4 cup water

[donadacasa]

Recipe for Lettuce with Hot Bacon Dressing

Here is a salad recipe that is a little different. Years ago, a friend gave it to me. I hope you enjoy it.

[catarsiscosmica]

Lettuce with Hot Bacon Dressing Here is something a little different for a salad. A friend gave me this years ago. Hope you like it. 8 cups leaf lettuce - rinsed dried and torn into bite-size pieces, 6 slices bacon, 1 egg, 1/4 cup water, 1/4 cup white wine vinegar, 4 teaspoons white sugar, 1/2 teaspoon salt, 1/2 cup sliced onion, 8 radishes thinly sliced

[tropicsmusic]

Spinach Salad with Hot Bacon Dressing Serve a delicious spinach salad with black-eyed peas and a spicy bacon dressing to bring good fortune!

[delicious-in-kitchen]

Bacon Cheese Fries by Bait Shop Nation

[cuepoc]

Recipe for Frisee Salad with Hot Bacon Dressing Although frisee lettuce has a mildly bitter flavor, it tastes amazing when combined with a warm, sweet and tangy bacon dressing.

[wildgirllz]

I'm not sure if you are familiar with the "mating press" position, but the little horny voice inside my head says that Tommy would absolutely love it. Just imagine reader having her legs on his shoulders while he pins her down to the bed because he needed to let off steam. Of course, this is completely consensual! Reader is willingly helping her husband out like the sweet housewife she is <3 Would you be up to write something like that? Sorry for being so disgustingly horny about him... (⁠´⁠-⁠﹏⁠-⁠`⁠；⁠)

Omg i love this request!! HAPPY 1K MY BEAUTIES!!!

Mating press with Tommy <3

Warnings: unprotected sex, SIZE KINK OML (I'm sorry I couldn't help myself) pnv, afab reader, he cums inside because he's a loving husband, overall just porn with a little plot

It was a sunny day, the warm Texan breeze on your shoulders as you washed dishes from breakfast. A hefty pile of dishes, Tommy was not a small man to feed. As the warm water eroded the bacon grease from your castiron, you heard some stomping from the yard. You smile, you can imagine how he was looking at that very moment; his mask covering half of his sweaty face, hair stuck to his forehead, shoulders wide and casting a big shadow over whatever he was blocking. His tall frame was delicious, his arms, his hands that held the majority of your torso already made you hot on the back of your neck.

Lost in a trance of your thoughts, you feel the warm water over your hands' sudden absence. You don't need to turn your head to identify the reason. You can already hear his little huffs behind his mask and his big meaty hands pawing at your hips.

“I missed you, Tommy.” You turn and raise your arms to place your hands on his broad chest. His fingers fidget with the red trim of your sundress, one of his favorites. “You like my dress honey? I like this one too, I wear it to ensure you stay grateful for this pretty little wife you got.” You giggle and cover his hands with your own, but only manage to shade a finger or two. 

“I made you pie again Tommy, peach crumble! It's right on the counter. Lemme cut you a slice.” You smile warmly before turning to walk to the countertop to your right, but you don't manage. Tommys' hands are glued to your hips, keeping you grounded like a statue on the floor. “You don't want pie, baby?” You ask, sweetly of course. You knew Tommy wasn’t focused on your pie right now, you knew from the second you heard his feet shuffling outside that he had some steam he needed to release, and you’d be damned before you said you didn't want him to take it out on you.

You look up at his lust-filled eyes and reach to untie his sweaty mask. You didn't like that he always felt he had to cover himself up, but you understood it brought more comfort to his everyday life. As the mask fell, you could hear his shaky breaths practically calling for you. You got up on your tiptoes and pursed your lips, so he reciprocated, bending his head downward and capturing you in a warm, desperate kiss.

His hands on your hips lifted your body off of the ground, unconsciously, making your face line up with his. You wrap your legs around his waist, not making it all the way, but you were stable as his hands moved down to cup your ass. You whimper into his mouth, grinding your little hips against his big tummy, and running your fingers through his messy hair.

He lets out a single huff before turning on his heels and taking you to the bedroom. After storming through the doorway, he tosses your body onto your’ neatly made bed and begins to undress. You take his cue and do the same, unzipping your flowy dress and slipping off your white panties. Leaning back in your bed, you take in Tommys' body, how the veins in his hands bulge as he unbuttons his shirt, and how tight his pants look on his thick thighs.

Once he's fully bare, he slowly stalks around the bed, looking you up and down like a piece of meat he’s longing to devour. Suddenly, he yanks you down by the ankles, making you lay flat on the bed. He pushes himself to his knees at the end of the bed, settled between your now parted legs. He shuffles forward a bit, then pulls you by the knees until your legs wrap around his hips. 

He bends forward, towering over your frame. He takes your legs and pulls your feet over each one of his shoulders. Your thighs are pressed to your stomach as he settles an arm on both sides of your head. His hair falls around your face, and you reach up to kiss his pretty pink lips. You feel his girth slipping over your slit, and you reach your hand down to press his throbbing cock to your little bud. He groans at the touch of your hand and you begin to rock your hips back and forth, covering his length with your slick.

Not long after, he begins to rock his hips against yours in tandem. His forehead touches yours and you can feel his warm breaths covering your face. On one of his slower thrusts, the tip of his cock caught on the rim of your hole, making you take a sharp breath in. Tommy looks at you to make sure you’re okay, then slowly slides his fat member into you without warning.

“Tommy! Jesus, baby slow down.” You whimper out. The intrusion makes your lips quiver and hands grip the sheets, so he takes your arms in one of his hands and moves them to wrap around his neck, immediately latching onto his hair. As he settles his hefty body on top of yours, his tummy pressing down tightly on yours, he pushes even further forward, trying to get as deep as possible.

Your moans turn into choked-out groans as he slowly pounds into you. Your toes curling and heels digging into his damp back. He lets out deep groans and uses his hand to wipe hair from your face. He cups your cheek and kisses you, a distraction from the ache of your stretched hole, struggling to accept his large cock. 

His thrusts pick up in pace, and he buries his face into your neck. His hands slide down to grip your hips, and he maneuvers your body to slam down on his cock in time with his thrusts. In a state of complete cock-drunk bliss, you struggle to let out a whine as you feel your peak approaching. Rolling your eyes back, you grip his hair between your fingers and give it a little tug, before feeling the warmth of your orgasm explode through your body in ripples of pleasure.

Your back arches and your legs shake, the feeling of your pussy clenching over his length makes him whimper, and his thrusts become fast and shallow. You whine at the feeling of him abusing your overstimulated warmth, and Tommy leans down to bury his face in your breasts and grips your hips almost bruisingly in his hands, quickly reaching his orgasm himself. 

He wraps his arms around your back and pulls you as close to him as possible before letting out one more deep thrust and filling you to the brim with his seed. He groans and flips over on his back, taking you with him. You lay over his body, feeling his cock softening inside you as his spend drips out. You both catch your breath and relax, his hands rubbing gently over your back. 

You close your eyes and let the cool air of night take you both to sleep.

feel free to leave requests! (get FILTHY.) <3

[luckystorein22]

Indulge in Exquisite Flavors: Tartufi Jimmy White Truffle Oil Spray Adds Luxury to Your Culinary Creations!

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Elevate your culinary experience with the exquisite flavors of Tartufi Jimmy White Truffle Oil Spray. This luxurious addition will take your dishes to new heights and leave your taste buds craving for more.

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Adding a few spritzes of this truffle oil to your culinary creations can transform a simple dish into a gourmet masterpiece. The rich and earthy aroma of white truffles complements a wide range of ingredients, from pasta and risotto to grilled vegetables and roasted meats. Its versatility allows you to get creative in the kitchen and experiment with different flavor combinations.

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Whether you're a professional chef or a home cook, the Tartufi Jimmy White Truffle Oil Spray is a must-have ingredient in your pantry. It's exceptional quality and distinct flavor will elevate your dishes and make every meal a memorable experience.

So go ahead, indulge in the exquisite flavors of Tartufi Jimmy White Truffle Oil Spray, and let your culinary creations shine with a touch of luxury. Your taste buds will thank you for it!

[st4rbwrry]

   𝐾𝐼𝑆𝑆 𝑀𝐸 𝑇𝐼𝐿𝐿 𝐼’𝑀 𝐵𝐿𝑈𝐸.

꒰ armin takes his pretty girlfriend on a picnic in an enchanted forest.꒱

🫧 𐀔 . . . 1.4k. fem!reader, lowercase intended, established relationship, sub / dom, profanity, pet names, unprotected penetrative sex, we’re in luvvv, outside indecency, love bites, praise, kinda shy reader, smoking, kreampie, minors aren’t welcomed ! reblogs + comments are appreciated! <3

꒰ 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎’𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒 ꒱ . . . this been in the drafts since 2022 y’all. a lil sum.

a pastel baby blue dress clings tight to your smooth skin, looking like the prettiest cottage core girl. frills on the shoulders and bust sitting low to accentuate your perky chest. love handles and tummy pudge swallowed by the soft material. armin couldn't keep his eyes, or hands, to himself. rubbing all up on you throughout your entire picnic date. fresh air blows through the trees and the bright views of sunlight beam across the blue lake where pure white doves swam in silence. armin had found this mythical location by driving around one day. it's quiet and reserved, deep into an enchanted forest.

the two of you sat on a blanket sprawled out on the grass, enjoying the food armin neatly packed. lots of fruits because you loved them. strawberries, raspberries, pomegranates, green grapes, apricots, and peaches . . . you name it. overdoing it just a bit, but he knows it’ll be eaten by this week. this was breakfast, the time now around eleven in the morning, so while you got ready he prepped the food. heart shaped pancakes, waffles, turkey bacon, pork sausage, scrambled cheese eggs and of course never forgetting your orange juice.

to make it cuter he brought a glass vase and filled it with water and multicolor roses he bought from the flower shop. you ate so much food your stomach bloated, unable to eat anymore. armin lays on his back with you to stare up at the sky and watch the trees blow, the weather perfect for the occasion. the sun hitting your skin serenely. you rest your head on armin’s chest, listening to his heartbeat as he massages your back in gentle circles, nearly falling asleep because you’re so at peace.

“i’m so glad we did this,” a yawn escapes as you smile sweetly at him, rubbing his stomach over his white tee.

armin presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, lingering it before mumbling, “me too.” soon, digging into his jean pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes. tapping the plastic box to release a stick. your body moves with the forearm he brings together to light his cig, flicking the lighter twice and satiating his need.

“i needed a break from life. so, thank you, love.” the softness in your voice makes the man's heart beat twice as fast. he smiles at you after turning his head the opposite way to blow out smoke, knowing you hated it in your face. being at close proximity right now was less irritating since you're elated at the moment. you could care less because he's comfortable, and it makes you feel the same. you could never get him to quit no matter how hard you tried. never argued with him about it. minor debates but he gave valid points so you laid off it.

“i figured it'd be nice to escape for the day. it's upsetting we have to return to reality tomorrow. but when i'm with you, it always feels . . . free.”

armin brushes a curved knuckle over your cheekbone, your eyes glued to his own.

“i feel the same way.”

“i say i love you all the time. but do you really understand it? how deep it is?”

you curl your lips inward, pondering on his question. more like a statement.

“i know you love me. you show it more ways than one. i think that's meaningful overall.”

fluffy blond hair with gold hues covers his angelic baby blue eyes, reaching up to tuck some of the wavy ringlets behind his ear.

“tell me you love me, then gimme a kiss.”

your face grows hot from his demand, growing nervous. you sit up briefly to grab a peach to bite into and distract yourself, more like hide your face because you were smiling so hard. this happens to be the second time since he's first told you he loved you. it makes you shy even still, the rush of heat coming to your cheeks from the intense glare he gives you, waiting for you to say it. you don't know why it felt so hard to utter. it's clear you love him, but maybe it was the large commitment of the word . . . the vulnerability, the devotion, the forever tie that scared you.

"tell me you love me, or i'll make you say it, ꒰♡꒱ ."

and make you he does.

his breath is warm on your neck, tongue following to lick a bold stripe over your skin with his fingers indented into the flesh of your cheeks and jaw. your face is upturned, head resting on his shoulder, back to his chest as you rely on his body for your balance. your thighs are spread wide, holding yourself open with your unoccupied hand, gripping under the bend of your knees, whimpering in the breezy air as his hips interact with the round of your ass, fucking you from the side fervidly. his moans are light, dancing in your ear while you claw into the picnic blanket beneath you two, clutching the grass and dirt in the wake. tuning into the lewd interaction of his heavy dick pounding into you, tits bouncing out of the enclosure of your dress.

“i can’t hear you, ꒰♡꒱,” armin grits his teeth, his lips on your jaw now, kissing away and grunting as he raises his hips to fuck you deeper, thrusts steady but rough. you’re feeling dizzy, whining from the baritone of his voice. “i didn’t make myself clear enough?”

“n-no. . . ar—min. mmph,” while denying, there’s a crack in your voice as you try your best to speak, moans rumbling in your throat, your tummy jiggling from his harsh pace.

“then tell me, tell me,” armin’s voice is a whispered plead, his jeans to his knees and his shirt pulled up to his midsection, skin scorching against your own.

you’re soft, and small. his big hand with veins protruding goes from your face to your chest, tweaking your nipples that spilled out of it’s cups alluringly, before spanking them with the pads of his fingers. tweak, spank, tweak, spank. it’s a notion that has you drooling, and sobbing pathetically. he’s trying to upkeep his composure, trying not to bottom out and lose his sanity. you’re too cute.

“i love youuu,” you finally cry out, ragged moans falling out in shorts gasps, tears coaxing and the pressure in your tummy building.

“fuck, there you go, sweetie,” his excitement shows through the way his dick slips out of you, both of you gasping from the loss until he slaps your clit with his dick, your juices sputtering out of you with each wet pat pat pat. armin draws his hips back slightly before sliding back inside easily, digging his fingers into the back of your thigh you held up and rolled his waist to fuck you harder.

each pound is harder than the previous, his jaw widening as he chokes on his moans and catches your throat with his mouth, tongue lolling out occasionally and his teeth following suit. your head is tossed back entirely, his arm going around your shoulder to cradle you, falling back on the ground. your thighs press tightly together, and you hold onto his arm while his middle and ring fingers thrum intricately over your puffy clit to watch her squirt.

armin hisses with skaken moan. “say it again, ꒰♡꒱.”

“i love you, armin.”

“again,” he’s biting at your neck again, your mouth agape from the combination of that and the head of his dick kissing your sweet spot.

“b-baby, g-god. i love you.”

“ooh, shit,” armin then pushes your left thigh flat to the ground, your body twisted as he goes to level himself above you in push up form, dropping his dick into you with steady, hard pounds. his voice grows weak, moans whiny as he cums deep inside of you, and you follow not long after, squeaking and clutching onto his wrist planted by your head. the softness of your ass bouncing back onto his hips is entrancing. his ass flexing when he grinds into your pussy.

“oh my god,” those pretty strands of blond sway in front of his face, giggling and lowering his body to rest his chest on your side. repeatedly leaving kisses to your flushed cheeks, neck, even your forehead. unable to move at all.

“i really love you, i swear,” the pads of your fingers brush over his pink lips, overly sensitive at the moment so you definitely felt like crying. a high pitched hiccup interrupts the moment, and that only makes armin roll his lips inward before bursting out a laugh.

“you’re so cute,” he gives you an eskimo kiss before smooching your lips. “i know you do.”

© 𝒮𝒯𝟦𝑅𝐵𝒲𝑅𝑅𝒴! all rights reserved. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life. 🫧🍓

[luveline]

bombshell!reader getting caught sleeping over at spencer's before making their established relationship public & the team still thinks spencer is uncomfortable with r's approaches. 🤭

Spencer bought you pyjamas. You're sick with secret pleasure at the fact, staring at yourself in every passing window and reflective surface. They're simple skinny knitted sweatpants and a matching hoodie, and it's not necessarily something you'd buy for yourself, but why would you ever complain? Spencer got you new clothes as a gift with no occasion or motive; you'd marry him now if you thought he'd say yes. 

Too bad he's still sleeping. 

You turn away from his kitchen window back to your cooking, an oiled frying pan sizzling hot on the stove, eggs browning at the edges as Spencer likes. Two twin mugs of hot coffee steam on the counter next to two plates of crispy bacon and toasted english muffins, deconstructed breakfast sandwiches. You're ninety percent sure he likes breakfast sandwiches. 

It's odd knowing enough about Spencer to fancy yourself in love with him, but being in a relationship that's so new that there are a thousand gaps. You know how he likes his eggs but not his bacon. Does he like melted cheese? Does he drink orange juice this early?

You'll have to ask him. If he's brave enough to ask you to stay the night, you can ask him about breakfast. 

It's getting way too hot in the kitchen. The opened window isn't cutting it. You hook your elbow into the hem of your hoodie and pull it over your head before folding them to set neatly aside. You feel cooler in your vest, if a little exposed. Good thing it's just you and Spence—

A knock rattles the door. "Reid, you home?" 

Well, I brought that on myself, you think with a laugh. You take the eggs off of the heat and wipe your oily fingers clean on a dish towel as you meander to the door. It's too early for running. 

"Hello, Derek," you say, opening the door with a put upon casualness. He blinks at you. He's wearing gym clothes, a sleeveless t-shirt and tight sweatpants. You wolf whistle before he can say hello himself. "Looking good. Early run?" 

"You're kidding," he says. 

"Am I ever? You look great! Did you want to come in– woah!" 

Deft-fingered hands pull you out of the doorway and firmly behind it. Spencer steps into your place, closing the door to a slit. "Hi, Morgan." 

"Reid. You're both kidding." 

"I don't know what you mean." Spencer rakes a hand through his sleep mussed hair. You try to ignore how much you enjoyed him moving you around. 

"Reid, I just saw her!" Morgan laughs more happily than incredulously. You can't see him but you can picture his smile and his slightly slouched posture, his arms crossed over his chest. "Since when do you guys bunk up? You're a jerk, you know that? I'm always telling her to stop bothering you, but now I'm thinking you like being bothered." 

"I never asked you to do that," Spencer says weakly. 

You nudge Spencer aside gently, popping your head back into Morgan's view. "My AC broke, my apartment's a hot hell. Reid let me come over." 

"Oh yeah?" Morgan asks, rolling his eyes. "That why he tried to hide you? What's so secret about broken AC?" 

"He's a genius, he's not perfect. I'm sure he was just trying to protect my decency. I'm not dressed for company." You put a more than friendly hand on Spencer's back, the dip of it like a tempting line under his thin sleep shirt. You want more than anything to dig under his shirt and feel along the curve of it. You'd pictured it this morning, eating eggs and drinking coffee under his arm, your fingertips tracing the short wall of stretch marks he has just above his coccyx.  

Spencer rolls with your lie as well as he's able to, which, having been caught off guard, is not very well at all. "Right. She's not wearing a bra." 

You snort. Morgan laughs and almost turns around to walk away. 

"Did you want breakfast?" Spencer asks weakly. He sounds resigned to his fate. Skewed, he uses the hand furthest away from you to reach behind his back and squeeze your hand in a swift apology. 

"I'll pass, man." Morgan pulls his cap down a touch. "Sounds like you're having breakfast fit for two." 

[puppy-stevee]

eddie quietly lets himself in through the front door of the harrington house, careful not to bang the bags he's carrying off of the entryway table.

one bag has steve's antibiotics and a jug of orange juice, and the other contains steve's usual order of a deluxe double bacon cheeseburger with an order of curly fries and a banana peach milkshake. eddie will put the burger in the fridge for later and steve can munch on the fries and milkshake with eddie's help.

eddie goes into the kitchen to do just that but he freezes in the doorway, because steve is supposed to be upstairs sleeping off the flu—not standing in front of the toaster with severe bedhead, dressed in a pair of pajama pants and thick wool socks with a sweatshirt thrown on over a hoodie.

steve raises a shaky hand up to rub his eye and the little wobble of his bottom lip is what spurs eddie into action.

"baby," he says, crossing the kitchen and gently pulling steve away from the counter. a piece of toast springs from the toaster as eddie takes in steve's rumpled appearance. his eyes are bleary and glassy and his skin is hot to the touch. "what are you doing out of bed, sweetheart?"

"eddie?" steve blinks slowly at him, swaying on his feet a little.

eddie leands him into the living room before he collapses and bundles him with blankets in the soft recliner in front of the tv. he can feel steve shivering under his layers of clothes.

"thought you weren't coming back," steve mumbles, his eyes sliding shut when eddie places an open palm on his forehead, checking his temperature.

eddie frowns and slides his hand up to steve's hair, gently brushing the floppy strands and scratching at his scalp. "i just went to pick up your meds and some food," he assures him with a kiss to his forehead. "not leaving until you're all better, i promise."

the mention of food makes steve perk up a little. "what'd you get?" he asks, even though his stomach rolls.

eddie brings out the fries and his milkshake and sure enough, steve only takes a couple bites and sips before he’s conked out once more, his head flopped to the side and quietly snoring through his open mouth.

even sick, he's still adorable, eddie thinks as he finishes the rest of the fries and milkshake.

[seungfl0wer]

*𝑭𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓, 𝑨𝒍𝒍 𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒆*

Pairing: Chan x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut (With some actual plot now bout that lol)

Warnings: Dog Hybrid!Chan, Mentions of impregnating and periods, Creampie, Unprotected sex (P in V), Breeding Kink, Spanking, Finger sucking, Knotting, Slight choking, Hair Pulling. I think that’s it?

A/N: I didn’t get a chance to proofread this yet so I’m sorry for any mistakes. Will do it at some point.

Find the Halloween Master List Here

-🎃

Waking up this morning was hard, not because you didn’t sleep well more so cause you had someone latched onto you. Your dog hybrid boyfriend had a death grip on you. His arms around you holding onto you tightly, his leg curled around yours. He’s been like this lately, he’s always been clingy but this past few days it’s intensified. He just clings to you like you are gonna disappear.

Trying to peal yourself away from him he lets out a barely audible growl, his arms pulling you tighter to him. “Channie, gotta pee” you said trying to squirm your way away from him. He left out a grumble before releasing his grip. You sprung up not wanting to be pulled back in, you made your way to the bathroom. Rubbing your eyes a bit waking yourself up. After using the bathroom you made your way to the kitchen making some breakfast like always. Chan made his way in the smell of food waking him up fully. He sauntered over to you wrapping his arms around your waist, peppering kisses to the side of your neck.

“Good morning my love” he said against your ear, voice a bit deeper from just waking up. “Morning handsome” you hummed back. He nestled his face into the side of your neck humming contently. As you finished up putting everything down on the table. The smell of eggs and bacon made your tummy grumble. Chan took his seat across from you his stomach grumbling just as much. As you both ate you reminded Chan about having to go to meet your friend today. He nodded “aren’t we meeting at the park?” He asked all happy. Although you couldn’t see his tail at the moment you could hear it thumping behind him.

“Yep, meeting them at the park. Gotta give them the birthday present I gots them” you said picking up your plate to rinse it off. “You still wanna come with?” You asked as you turned around. Chan was getting up to wash off his plate as well rolling his eyes at you “when don’t I like going with you” he said before kissing your cheek. You both just giggled before kissing him lovingly. “Yes, how dare I ask my apologies” you tease.

“I’m gonna go get dressed and we can head out hmm” you say making your way back to the bedroom. He trailed behind you watching as your ass swayed back and forth. “Love, can we have a little” he said pulling you to him “fun before we go” he continued kissing your neck. “Mm Channie after” you said softly. He groaned pulling away with a pout “why after?”

“Because Mr, I know how you are and we’ll be here for a while” you teased “I promise, when we get back ok?” You said kissing his cheek. “Fine” he said in a huff. As you both got dressed and made your way to the car Chans nose started to go like crazy. “You alright over there?” You ask looking over at him, his face a bit red now still sniffing the air. He nodded “uh yeah just- hot” he said putting down the window. His mind was running a mile a minute how could he have missed it? Your period was coming which but more importantly you were ovulating.

That’s why he’s been so clingy lately, he doesn’t know how he didn’t notice it before. Maybe because he was so worried about his own heat coming. This was the first that your ovulation and his heat would fall so close together. He shook his head to himself ‘there’s no way I should have missed this, how could I miss this? How could I not fucking smell it?’ He yelled at himself internally. The smell started to circulate in the car the A/C not helping. You must have just started because the scent was still a bit faint but being in the closed car intensified it. He groaned a bit thinking how you’d be outside.. around other hybrids.. ‘great just fucking great’ he said to himself.

As you pulled up you saw your friend standing there waiting for you. He waved with a smile walking over to your car. While you were distracted by her Chan moved in his seat trying to situate himself. His cock already rock solid pressed against his pants. He quickly got out trying his best to fix himself before anyone could notice. The warm air masking your scent for the most part thankfully. He smiled at your friend “Channie if you wanna go for a walk you can, we aren’t gonna be long. Chae has some stuff to do or should I say someone to do” you teased her making her swat at you.

He nodded walking away a bit but making sure to keep in eye contact with you. He was afraid someone was going to come back and snatch you away. As your friend and you chatted for a few you saw a faint gleam of another hybrid barreling towards you. Those big ears and blonde coat, before you could even think to brace yourself he basically tackled you. “Y/n! What are you doing here!” He said nuzzling himself between your neck. “Ah Seungmin, Come on” you whined as the man squeezed you tightly. “Sorry” he said with a chuckle “it’s just been awhile” he said rubbing the back of his head.

As he went to let go of you the familiar scent caught his attention. His eyes went a bit dark before pulling away “so uhm, is Chan not here with you?” He asked tilting his head. “Uh yeah he just went to the bathroom” you said pointing to the public bathroom. He nodded his head before pulling you into another tight hug. He nestled his head into your neck once again before licking it softly. The feeling made you shiver “Minnie, isn’t Jeongin here with you?” You asked looking around “mhm he was getting us a hotdog” he replied.

His hand laid in your waist, the other coming down dangerously close to your ass. “Seungmin!” You heard a voice yell making him drop his hands quickly. Jeongin was jogging towards you with an annoyed look on his face. “Sorry y/n this mutt just ran off” he said making seungmin stand by him. “You know not to do that, you’re gonna get Chan all riled up” he said playfully pushing him. Chae laughed “looks like I’m not the only one getting some later” she laughed smacking you lightly.

You rolled your eyes smacking her back “speaking of I gotta go, tell Chan I said bye” she said with a smile as she walked off. When Chan had come out of the bathroom he saw who was standing by you. He let out a growl making his way towards you eyes locked on the other hybrid. “Channie there you are!” You said with a smile. As soon as he got to you all he could smell was seungmin. It was all over you, the little fucker always did this. He knew it made him mad, but he knew it’d piss him off even more knowing you were ovulating. So he made sure to do it extra like the little ass he is.

He looked down at you trying to fake a smile “love can we go home now?” He said through gritted teeth. “Of course” you said smiling back. “I’ll talk to you later jeongin! Bye seungmin” you smiled taking Chan hand into yours oblivious, to anything going on. Chan looked back shooting daggers at Seungmin who smirked content with what he had done. If it wasn’t for you he would have probably went after him.

Chan opened the door for you thanking him as you sat down you started up the car. “Channie you hungry at all?” You said looking behind you to back up. He shook his head “no, just wanna get home” he said. His voice sounded a bit irritated but he always got a bit upset when other men were around you. Especially other hybrids. Especially seungmin. So you didn’t press too much into it. Chan sat there pretty silent the whole way home, gritting his teeth as the air in the car just smelled like that mutt.

As you pulled up Chan opened the door for you wrapping his arm around your waist as you both walked towards the door. “You know how much I hate him” he says as you both get into the door. “Who seungmin?” You asked as you put your keys down. He nods “yeah the little fucker puts his scent all over you cause he know it’ll piss me off” he say walking behind you. “Channie I don’t think-“ you start to say before Chan pulls you into him. “He does. I know he does. Especially right now when you’re- you’re ovulating” he said as he pushed his head into the crook of your neck.

He had your body pinned against his as he made his way towards the couch. He leaned you against it ass against him as he started to suck at your neck. His hands coming around your holding your hips as he started to rut against you. “Chan-nie” you said breathily. “You know how hard it was for me not to just take you there? Fuck y/n-“ he said sinking his teeth slightly into your neck. A hand coming to pull your pants down along with your panties. “You promised remember” he said in a teasing tone as his hand came up to toy with your clit.

“You’re wet already?” It sounding like a question. “You fucking wet from him?” He growled his other hand digging into your hip. You shook your head “n-no for you.. wanted you” you stuttered out. “You sure you weren’t getting all hot and bothered by that mutt?” He growled taking his hand back to come down hard on your ass. You let out a small yelp at the feeling “n-never channie only you- promise” you say trying to look back at him.

“Gonna make sure the only person you can think about is me” he said his voice deeper now. The look in his eyes was almost feral almost like- like his heat had started. “Baby are you- did you start your heat?” You asked. “It wasn’t supposed to start for another few days but- mmm with you ovulating you’re just calling to be bred.” He said as he rid himself of his pants. “That asshole didn’t help either. Gotta claim you again. Gotta show everyone you’re mine. Maybe if I fill you with a liter then they’ll know.” His words came out in such a warm tone.

You looked back to see Chan spitting on his cock, his eyes hungry for you. He pumped his cock a few times getting it nice and wet with his saliva. He lined himself up to your entrance kissing your shoulders to your neck. “You’re all mine.” He said before sinking his entire length into you. You moaned out feeling him so deep into you. The look in his eyes was so animalistic, he let out a low growl before he started to bully your cunt. His thrusts were hard and deep, hitting your cervix already.

He continued this merciless pace as he took his hands through your hair pulling it back. He let hard smack to your ass “tell me who you belong to.” He said. You moaned out at the sensation “you! You Chan! I’m all yours!” He thrusted faster into you his hand coming down to smack your ass again. “Who’s the only one that can pump this pussy this good hmm? You think that mutt could do better!” He growled anther smack coming down as he pulled your head back more. “No! Only you only you channie! No one else!”

Chan leaned down sinking his teeth deep into your neck as he pounded into you. His hand leaving your hair to come up to grip your face. Moving your head to the side as he lapped at your neck. He moved his fingers to your lips and you gladly started to suck on them. “Fuck y/n, gonna fill you so full. Gonna pump you full and make you have my pups” he moaned. He was getting lost in the pleasure but so were you. You could feel his knot ready to bust against your entrance wanting to be buried into you. He let his free hand come down to play with your clit making you moan around his fingers.

“Gonna take all my cum baby? Gonna let me fill you knot you so good hmm?” You knew his mind was gone when he started to babble on but you loved it. He knew you did to especially the way you clenched around him. “Fuck baby- ah- shit I’m close- gonna take it all yeah?” You nod “fuck please channie! I’m close too fuck please!” You begged the pleasure becoming too much. His hand left your face gripping at your throat now as he fucked into you sloppily.

He squeezed a bit as he felt you clench tight around him “cumming!” You choked out. Chans hand left your neck both hands now gripping hard at your hips as he gave you a few more thrust before burying his knot deep inside you cum painting your walls filling you to the brim. The feeling was enough to push you over the edge again. Cumming hard around him as a second strong orgasm hit. You could feel how hard Chan was still as his cum spilled into you. His body still slowly thrusting into you.

You both stayed like that for a bit. The cycle repeating itself a few times. Fucking, cumming, a few moments of rest back to fucking. It didnt stop till he was sure you were full. So full there was no way you wouldn’t get pregnant. He picked you up bringing you to the couch holding onto you tightly as you both panted loudly. “Was into rough?” He breathed out. You shook your head nestling your body into him. “I love you” you said softly kissing his cheek. “I love you too, so fucking much. Let’s take a shower?” He asked knowing you’d want one.

You nodded “can we cuddle for a bit first?” He hummed a happy yes before chuckling to himself “dont think you stand do you?” He said with a grin. “Nope” the both of you laughed. Calming down in each other’s embrace.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

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[cheyisagirlkisser]

Farmer Williams

FARM ELLIE HEADCANNONS (Ellie Williams x Fem! reader) Content: Smut, Ellie being a horndog AND farmer, cutesy domestic bliss

•Farmer Ellie who wakes up at some insane hour of the morning to get started on her chores so she knock them out of the way and spend time with you later..

•Farmer Ellie who smiles when she walks through the screened door of the farmhouse to the scent of freshly cooked bacon and eggs. She just loves when you cook for the two of you, even if it’s something simple(and technically 1pm…)

•Farmer Ellie who will wrap her strong arms around your waist while you’re leaned over the stove, planting soft kisses to your nape. If she’s in a really good mood, her tongue will soon follow after those soft, sickly sweet kisses.

•Farmer Ellie whose presence envelops your nose as you flip over a piece of bacon. It’s the heavy scent of her sweat from working all morning, which you love to use as an excuse to shower together after breakfast.

•Farmer Ellie who is a quiet eater, munching away at her toast, bits of homemade strawberry jam plastered on her chapped lips. She’s oblivious to how truly adorable she is, and you have to resist the urge to lean in and press a few chaste kisses on her. She’s a messy eater, scarfing down every last bit of food you provided her, and uttering with a full mouth, “Babe, this is fuckin’ delicious. You trying to be my housewife or somethin’?” She mostly jokes around with you, but there’s a soft smile tugging at her lips that makes you wonder if she’s joking or hinting at her own desires.

•Farmer Ellie who thanks you for the breakfast by leaving her seat to stand behind yours, calloused fingertips drumming on your shoulders as her breath makes it to your ear, “How ‘bout that shower, babe?” You can tell it’s one of those days, because her tone is pathetically low and needy. Ellie isn’t aware, but when she’s horny, she sounds all serious and low, quite different from her usual sweet voice. It’s a turn-on for you, of course.(I imagine Ellie sounding like she did in the couch scene with Dina anytime she’s thinking about fucking you…) When you agree, Ellie intertwines her fingers with yours and leads you into the farmhouse’ bathroom.

•Farmer Ellie who loves to undress you. You need to take your bra off before bed? She’s already tugging at the clasp with her grubby hands. It’s one of those special mornings where she wakes up beside you instead of getting up early to manage the farm? She’ll wake you up with a kiss and a soft, “C’mon, babe. Lemme dress you,” because god forbid you slip on your own clothes. Most of the time, it’s seemingly nonsexual, only helping you and maybe taking a few peeks at your tits when you’re unaware, even though you’ve assured her many times you don’t mind her visual appreciation.

•Farmer Ellie who shuts the bathroom door behind you, immediately unbuttoning your jeans to get you naked. It is in fact, one of those days when she’s undressing you quickly, desperate to see how wet you already are from her. Once your clothes are practically ripped off, you take your cue to hop in the shower and get the water going. You can’t help but glance at Ellie’s own undressing process, watching as her worn sports bra meets the floor, her pretty tits on display for your own wandering eyes. Your impatience only grows when she finally slips her boxer-briefs, she pretty cunt free of any fabric.

•Farmer Ellie who steps into the hot shower behind you, hands trailing up your wet skin, lips latching onto your neck, practically devouring your neck in a way she wanted to do earlier. Ellie’s a horndog, sure, but she loves to take her time with you once she’s got you completely bare and soaking wet both ways.

•Farmer Ellie who spins you around so you’re facing her, immediately leaning in to give you a hot, wet kiss. She’ll try to start slowly and sensually, but after maybe 10 seconds, she’s ravishing your poor mouth with hers. When she’s pussydrunk, she kisses you like she’s eating you out. That only reminds you of how her hot tongue feels inbetween your thighs. She sees that needy look in your eyes, and she’ll pull away from some part of your body she was busy macking on to smile sinfully at you. “Baby, whatcha want? Tell me how you wanna be fucked….” You’ll get shy on her, but eventually, you mutter something about her mouth making you cum, and she won’t continue to torture you any longer.

•Farmer Ellie who eats your pussy like she’s starved. Those little smacking sounds she makes, the way her tongue sloppily fucks its way into your sopping cunt, nose nudging against your clit, it’s so perfect. She’ll hold you firmly against the shower so you don’t fall over, strong hands digging into your hips so hard there will be red marks on them later. She’s practically making out with your pussy, muttering hungry words about how ‘wet she is for me’ and promising to make you cum. She just can’t get enough of your taste. Even after you cum your brains out, her mouth is still latched on you, licking up every last drop of your essence until you’re squirming, begging her for mercy. She’ll pull away with a sheepish grin, though you know she’s not sorry.

•Farmer Ellie who loves to take care of you after sex. She’ll wash you up and after she’s all clean too, you two will spend the day together cuddling and talking about everyday things such as Ellie’s hunting trips, your plans to bake for her later, and complaints about chores. She loves just laying on top of you lazily, pressing all of her weight onto you.

•Farmer Ellie who usually falls asleep right after dinner. Sometimes you swear that girl’s hibernating with the way she snores and rolls all over your bed. Nonetheless, you tuck her in, pecking the top of the head and whispering a soft goodnight. After a while, you’ll join her, attempting to not wake her but fail as she mutters sleepy, petulant complaints about needing her beauty rest. However, she will always wrap an arm around you, pulling you into her arms and whispering some incoherent ‘g’nites’ and a ‘love you’ before you both drift off to sleep<3

NOTE: This is my first real post so be nice to me😞 I wanna do more of farm Ellie soon!

[eowynstwin]

Blackbird, Fly - Four

Cowboy Gaz x mail order bride—only, not his. After exchanging letters for half a year with ranching man Hans König, you finally travel out west to marry him. Gaz had been the only one to try and warn you. previous - ao3 - next

When you wake the next morning, Hans’ side of the bed is empty, the linens already cold.

As sleep leaves you in fits and starts, the aches pull you inward—glowing dull and orange like banked embers. Your whole body feels like a twisted ankle. Nothing is broken, exactly, but every muscle feels as if it’s been pulled in a direction God never quite intended it to move.

Your shoulders. The meat of your thighs. Your hips.

The entrance to your womb.

It isn’t the knife-sharp pain from before. Only the muted, persistent throb of a wound left alone to heal. In the cottony space between sleep and waking, you think there should be more damage—for all of what happened last night. And yet, there isn’t.

Still, you don’t move when your eyes finally open. Stillness seems the only defense against the bare truth of the gray morning.

Your husband used you hard on your wedding night, and did not care for the pain he caused.

You are not fool enough to think your experience unique. Women talked as much as girls did. Your mother’s friends were wont to complain when they thought the children out of earshot: husbands who grunted and sweated over them in the night, often without uttering a word. Sometimes not even waiting for the pain of childbirth to subside before claiming their marital due.

You just had come to believe, with every letter that arrived, that your fate would be different.

But it turns out none of this is a dream after all.

Your throat closes, then. Tears prick hot in the corners of your eyes.

Stupid, stupid girl.

You swallow hard. Sit up away from the pillows, even as the aches flare in protest.

Beside you, where your husband slept, there’s a noticeable dip in the mattress. Worn in over years of slumber, and you, you suppose, on Anna’s side of the bed.

Was Hans kind to her too, before?

Abruptly you swing your legs out from the linens, and go to find one of the dresses you brought along from home.

The house is empty when you descend the stairs, as far as you can tell. You hear the steady tick, tock of a grandfather clock somewhere in the sitting room that you hadn’t noticed yesterday, in all of the commotion of the wedding preparations. The floorboards creak beneath your feet as your grumbling stomach leads you along to the kitchen.

The space is as modern and well-appointed as the rest of the house, and bigger than any kitchen you ever imagined needed to be. A cast-iron wood stove with four burners and a large oven, a sink with a pump right there by the basin, and—you nearly stop dead at the luxury—an ice box, right there beside one long counter.

You momentarily forget the troubles of the night, crouching beside the little box in fascination. A cloud of cool fog descends when you swing open the door; you brush the tips of your fingers across the huge block of ice on the top shelf, jerking them away when the cold unexpectedly burns. Not once in your life have you ever seen so much ice in one place.

On the lower shelf, you find cuts of pork and beef, wrapped in brown butcher’s paper and tied with string. Bacon for breakfast, then, and biscuits if you can find flour. Your mother always said that a difficult thing was easier after having a meal.

You find the larder stocked with further luxury. Nowhere are the home-jarred goods that would populate your family’s pantry, garden-grown vegetables pickled in vinegar or hand-pressed jams fresh from the blackberry bushes along the road. Instead you find rows and rows of cans, factory-sealed tins of manufactured uniformity, colorfully labeled and containing everything you might have ever thought to grow yourself and more.

Beans of every variety. Corn. Carrots. Peas. Beets. Tomatoes.

How much must all this have cost? So many, and lined up deep into the back of the larder. You and Hans couldn’t possible eat them all before some of them began to spoil. Of course, if he could afford to buy so much, maybe that didn’t matter.

You find the flour, and baking powder as well. Breakfast is a quick affair after that, and thankfully so, as your stomach really begins to complain as soon as the food is ready.

There’s a small table in the kitchen—yet more luxury, you think, remembering the long dining table you saw yesterday—and it’s there you sit down to solve your hunger.

The hard wooden chair is not kind to the ache between your legs.

You bite into the bacon, crunching it to pieces. There—it’s all right. You have your breakfast. Isn’t that something to be grateful for? Breakfast, and a nice stove, and an ice box, and a kitchen so stuffed with food that you can’t imagine ever running out.

Isn’t this what a loving husband provides? A good home, for his wife to live comfortably in? Pretty dresses, like the one he gave to you last night? A nice ring on your finger—the little gem glittering in the sunlight streaming in through the kitchen window?

Hans loves you. Of course. This is love.

You bite into one biscuit, hot and steaming from the pan and burning your tongue. Your mother can make them better, but you tried the best you could to follow the recipe she taught you.

The front door opens outside of the kitchen. Something quick and sharp travels up your spine. Heavy boots step inside—your husband, come looking for you—you freeze without realizing it, holding half-chewed food in your mouth—

“Mrs. König?” calls Kate Laswell, the foreman, and you relax.

“In here,” you call, after swallowing.

Laswell enters the kitchen, and turns to you, at the table. She’s dressed in mens’ clothes, dusty trousers and a heavy jacket over a button-up shirt, and a wide-brimmed hat still on her head. She looks like she’s dressed to travel.

“I’m afraid I can’t show you the accounts today, like I said I would,” she tells you, no preamble, no pleasantries.

You remember then your brief conversation with her the previous night—and Hans’ disapproval at the idea.

You set down your biscuit. “Good morning, Miss Laswell. Why not?”

“I’m going over to visit the Vargas place. We’ve been working on a leasing deal. I’ll explain when I get back.”

“Of course,” you say. “Would—” you clear your throat, embarrassed— “Would you know where my husband might be?”

The lines of Laswell’s face tighten. She has a severe look to her that you think is always present—ranch work must harden anyone, man or woman—but there is no wedding happening around you now to distract you from the unmistakable displeasure on her face.

“Last I saw he was out with the herd,” she says shortly. “Anyway, I’ll be gone for a few days. The ledger is in the cabinet by the desk. Take a look at it if you find the time.”

She tips her hat to you before you can figure out how to respond—some part of you bristles at being given orders by someone who is now, ostensibly, your employee—and leaves the kitchen. You scramble to follow her, and catch her when she’s nearly out the door.

“Miss Laswell,” you call, “is Hans—is my husband—”

You’re not very sure what you intended to ask her, before you began the question. Nor, you realize, do you think she could answer honestly, if you asked her what you really wanted to know. It wouldn’t be her place, and it would be inappropriate of you to ask.

If you could actually work up the courage to approach it.

So you settle for, “Is my husband angry with me?”

She stops, and blinks at you. You see her look you up and down, briefly, but when she meets your eyes her expression is impossible to read.

“I have no idea,” she says, and her tone betrays nothing. “Gaz wants to see you in the stables when you have a moment today. Ma’am.”

She nods farewell at you and leaves.

The steady ticking of the grandfather clock punctuates the end of the odd exchange. Disoriented, you return to the kitchen to clear away the remnants of your breakfast, flushing in confusion.

Do you really want this?

His question rings now in your ears. Along with it come memories of the previous night. The Madame’s odd interest in you. The store owner Miss Boucher’s sidelong glance at Hans. Myriad other quirks of the brow or mouth that you only now grasp the meaning of.

Everyone knew, somehow, what was coming. Everyone except you.

And Gaz had been the only one to try and warn you.

You tug on a shawl as you step out onto the front porch, breathing in the mountain air. The morning chill hasn’t yet burned off, and the sky has yet to gain its full color. Across the clearing, Kyle Garrick is at work in the stable’s corral.

He holds one end of a long lead, attached at the other to the bridle of a red-brown horse, which trots in a wide circle around him. Occasionally, with the lunge-whip he holds in his free hand, Gaz taps the horse’s hindquarters, redirecting it patiently whenever it tries to move inward or otherwise deviate from its orbit.

Horses are scared creatures, Miss, I don’t know if you know this, Hans had written. You must be gentle when you train them, or destine them to a lifetime of anxiety.

When you approach, the horse’s attention briefly turns toward you, but Gaz taps it again and it goes back into its pacing. You have a moment to admire the long line of the cowboy’s body, the focused angles of his shoulders and hips, before he addresses you, sensing your presence without having to turn and look at you.

“Good morning, miss,” he says. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, thank you,” you say. It feels dishonest, even if it isn’t a lie. “Good morning, Mr. Garrick.”

The horse makes its way past you, and then Gaz brings it to a stop. He winds up the lead in one hand and makes his way over to you, meeting you where you stand by the corral fence.

You can’t help but notice how handsome he looks in the light of late morning. The serious expression on his face is the same one he’d worn the day before; you suspect it’s his natural disposition.

You remember the brief smile he’d shown you last night, before Hans had taken you away, and your cheeks warm despite yourself.

“I thought I might introduce you to the horses today,” he says. “If you’ve got the time, that is.”

“Oh,” you gasp, suddenly eager, “Please! I’ve been looking forward to it ever since Hans proposed! I told him about the two old nags we had on our farm, to pull our wagon, and he said—”

We must get you on a proper horse, then, to show you the true pleasure riding may offer.

You stop mid-sentence. Something about what Hans had written rings in your memory now with a different note. It seems…mocking, almost. Imbued purposefully with a meaning intended to escape you, given you had not the experience enough to catch it.

Shame blooms painfully behind your breastbone.

“…He mentioned he’d bring me to meet them,” you say lamely.

The smile Gaz gives you doesn’t reach his eyes. “He’s very busy, or I suppose he would be today.”

“I suppose,” you echo.

Gaz inhales deeply, and then he gestures to the red-brown horse. “Well—this here is Newt. I’ve been getting him used to the bridle today.”

“Hello, Newt,” you say to the horse. You reach a hand out, briefly, but then pull it back; your instinct is to let the horse get your scent, like you might with a farm dog, but you don’t know if you should. Your father had always handled the nags.

Gaz notices, and brings one big hand to Newt’s long face, squeezing the arch of his muzzle. The horse’s eyes droop in obvious pleasure.

“He’s a big baby,” says Gaz, expression gentling. “I’m trying to see if he’ll make a good cutter, but it’s too early to tell.”

You reach out again. Newt’s velvety nostrils flare as he inhales, and then his hot breath bathes your hand and wrist. You suppose you have his approval, because Newt simply works his teeth a little and makes no indication of displeasure.

“A cutter?”

“Yeah. The kind of horse that can cut a steer out from the herd so you can drive it someplace else,” Gaz explains. “Horses either got cow-sense, or they don’t. Here, come around inside and I’ll show you the rest.”

Long Mask Ranch, Hans had written, built its reputation on the quality of its quarter horses. In the early days of its inception, his father had struck an extremely lucrative deal providing the US Army with its cavalry mounts, which had turned out to be a perfect way for the ranch’s reputation to spread. Even after the army mostly withdrew from the region, every state in the surrounding countryside knew: if you wanted good horses, you went to Long Mask.

“These are the yearlings,” Gaz explains as he leads you through the stable. “Just now we’re getting them trained to follow directions. Won’t be riding ‘em for a couple years yet.”

He puts Newt away and beckons you to follow. In the neighboring stall, one of the horses pokes its head out over the gate. It’s a light-colored colt, yellowish in the body and white-maned.

“This is Gus,” Gaz says, scratching its fuzzy chin. “He’s a big flirt, yeah, aren’t you, boy?”

You also reach out to give Gus a pat, and the colt chuffs and butts his nose into your hand, proving Gaz’s accusation. You can’t help giggling a little.

When another horse across the building snorts, Gaz chuckles, and leads you in the direction of the noise. “Ah, yeah, and that’s Woodrow. Him and Gus are always goin’ at it, but you won’t ever see better friends.”

Woodrow is dark gray horse with a distinctly unamused face. He accepts a pat on the forehead with what you can only describe as resigned patience. Gaz feeds him a sugar cube from one pocket for his trouble.

He takes you further along down the line of stalls. You meet a spirited filly named Elmira, and a colt beside her named July whose love for her is unrequited.

“We’ve already gelded him, so it wouldn’t matter much anyway,” Gaz relates.

He speaks fondly of every horse as you meet them, with the familiarity of long days working beside each of them. It relaxes him, you realize, to speak of them—the hard set of his expression has softened, the serious line of his brows eased from their iron setting.

It makes him look—not younger, you decide, but properly his age. A cowboy just beginning the best years of his career, still hale and fit enough to meet the rough demands of the job, but with enough experience under his belt to confront any challenge with confidence.

Such confidence is obvious in the way he moves. He walks loose and easy through the stable, his every step as assured as the sunrise the next morning. The line of his broad shoulders, the swooping curve of his back—they tell you at a mere glance that home is in this place, working with these creatures, and there could be nothing more Kyle Garrick might long for besides.

Envy twists your intestines around its fingers. There’s an empty space inside of you that you’d been expecting, as your wedding vows had finally taken flight, to fill with that same feeling.

At the end of the stable, in a stall in the back corner, a horse pokes its head out over the gate. It’s bigger than the yearlings, with a pale face and a dark, gray muzzle. It looks right at you, with such a clear focus that it startles you.

“Ah,” says Gaz, when he sees. “Was wondering if she’d notice us.”

“She?”

He nods. “A mare. She’s…difficult.”

The mare stares at you, with deep, night-black eyes.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

Gaz works his lips over his teeth. “Mr. König bought her last year off another rancher who was ‘bout fit to shoot her. She’s a thoroughbred, and she ain’t never met a white man she likes. As like to buck a man off as to let him ride.”

“Oh,” you say.

Gaz leans against the wall between two stalls. “Mr. König thought he might be able to break her. So far she hasn’t gotten him off her, but she won’t let him come near without putting up a fight. I’m the only one can saddle ‘er.”

You frown. “Why would he ride a horse that doesn’t want to be ridden?”

At that, Gaz’s eyes go cold. Shockingly cold, like an empty winter’s night. “Suppose he just likes taking what he wants, I guess.”

You should reprimand him. You know it immediately. It’s no way to talk about his employer, and certainly nothing he should ever say in front of you, his employer’s wife.

But you remember the blood, and still feel the ache. You have to look away from him, ashamed. Embarrassed.

You cannot defend your husband, and he must know it.

“I imagine he must know what he’s about,” you mumble.

Gaz gives a derisive snort. “I don’t know about that. He’s of a mind to start with thoroughbreds, but she will not let him breed her. Damn near killed every stallion he’s brought her to try.”

It hits you so sharply that you inhale with sudden pain, pressure knifing at your eyes. You turn away from Gaz entirely now, pressing your hands to your chest. Every ache from the night previous ricochets around inside you again, knocking all the way down into your bones.

You tip your head upward, as if it will prevent the gathering tears from falling. What’s worse, Gaz puts a hand on your shoulder behind you. You flinch at the touch, hips aching where Hans had bruised them in his grip.

“I’m sorry, Miss,” Gaz says softly. He sounds like he means it. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

He knows exactly what ails you. And why wouldn’t he? He’s known his employer for years. He’s worked this ranch for longer than you’ve even known of its existence.

He knew the previous Mrs. König, who first endured Hans’ attentions.

You are a terrible fool, and you are the last to know it.

He doesn’t remove his hand as you tremble. He squeezes you gently, the same caress he’d given to the young colt Newt. It is so kind that it nearly breaks you.

“Here,” Gaz murmurs, “let’s see something.”

You turn back to him; he takes your hand, and leads you to the back of the stable. The mare follows the two of you with her eyes, expression unchanging as you approach her.

Closer now, she is a stunning creature. You’ve never seen anything like her. Her coat is silvery-gray, with darker patterns all over her body, like ink absorbed into paper and then laid beneath a light rain. Her legs and mane are the same dark color as her muzzle, and there is a deep intelligence in her eyes as she beholds you.

“You might be the first woman she’s ever seen up close,” Gaz says.

He takes up a position behind you, and turns your hand over in his, opening your fingers. Then, slowly, so the horse can see it, he brings them to her face, pressing your fingertips to the soft whorl on her forehead.

The mare’s eyes do not leave you. She exhales a little through relaxed nostrils, chuffing, flicking her ears toward you. You play with the starburst of pale hair, following the direction it grows; her lids, heavy with thick, black lashes, drop a little.

“I’ll be,” Gaz murmurs behind you. “I think she might like you, miss.”

A loud BANG claps against the wall on the other end of the stable, and the mare jerks her head immediately, flinging your hand away. She grunts, snorts, and dances away from the gate, shaking her head, eyes flaring wide.

You and Gaz both look to the commotion—

Your husband stands in the open doorway, cast in a dark silhouette by the late morning light.

“Just what the hell are you doing?”

-

a/n: the horses' names are all references to characters in my favorite western, Lonesome Dove by Larry McMurtry.