#Tractor for Hire | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

joelmillerisapunk · 3 months

Text

Howdy Honey I. can't get you off my mind

series masterlist masterlist

wordcount: 6,709

summary: After a tumultuous fall from your horse that leaves you with a fractured wrist and bruised ribs, you find solace in the strong arms and gentle care of Joel Miller, the new ranch hand whose rugged exterior hides a tender heart.

warnings: mentions of falling, fracture, eventual smut, slowburn, age-gap, some fluff, two stubborn people falling in love, angst, from both your and Joel's pov

notes: First of all thank you to all of you for supporting the masterlist, I am absolutely blown away! I appreciate the heck out of you all so very much! <3 <3 Second thank you sm to @joelslegalwhre and @mountainsandmayhem for screaming with me about all of this ily both <3 Third I wrote this after my own experiences falling off a horse and being carried by a hot cowboy at work. K I'm gonna go panic, love you all bye. gif is by @tomshiddles divider by @saradika-graphics

The sun is high and unforgiving, casting a golden hue over the sprawling acres of your family's ranch—a place where the West still feels wild and untamed. The ranch, nestled in a valley surrounded by rugged mountains, is a patchwork of green pastures, dotted with grazing cattle and horses. The main house, a sturdy two-story structure with a wraparound porch, stands proudly at the heart of the property, its whitewashed walls and red roof are like a beacon for the lost amidst the vast expanse of land. You can always find your way back home.

To the east lies the stables, a long, low building with enough room to house two dozen horses comfortably. Its wooden walls have weathered to a soft gray, and the scent of hay and horse is always present in the air. Just beyond the stables is the equipment barn, filled with tractors, balers, and all manner of tools necessary for maintaining the ranch. The sound of metal clanging against metal often echoes from within as ranch hands tend to repairs or prepare for the day's work. A little further out is the chicken coop, bustling with activity as hens peck at the ground and roosters crow their morning greetings.

On the southern end of the ranch, a series of fenced-in training pens are set up for breaking in new horses or for practicing roping skills. It's here that you often find the newly hired ranch hand, Joel Miller, expertly mending a section of split-rail fence or guiding a young colt through its paces with patience and skill honed over decades.

You've grown up with the scent of hay and the sound of hooves on dirt, a life that's as much a part of you as the blood in your veins. Recently, your parents brought on a few new ranch hands, a decision driven not only by their advancing years and a growing wanderlust but also, you suspect, by a desire to ensure you're well looked after in their absence. It didn't seem to matter how many times you'd promised that you and [name] the very first and only other person hired to help around, could take care of the ranch - they never let go of the fact you weren't five anymore.

Today you find yourself working a little less hard because of Joel Miller, the new ranch hand that looks like he stepped straight out of a Western movie. You watch him from afar as you make your way to take your horse out, his muscles straining against his plaid shirt as he repairs a section of fencing. He moves with an easy grace despite his age and broad build. His salt-and-pepper hair peeks out from under his worn cowboy hat, and you can't help but feel a pull towards him, something beyond the usual respect for a seasoned hand.

The ranch is alive with activity as you prepare Daisy for her daily run. The horses in the nearby pasture lift their heads at your approach, their ears pricked with curiosity. Daisy nickers softly, her tail swishing in anticipation as you lead her out of her stall and toward the open pasture. As you trot along one of the well-worn trails, you pass by landmarks that tell stories of your family's history; there's an old rusted tractor from your grandfather's time, now half-buried in wildflowers; a grove where you used to play hide-and-seek with your siblings; and further on, an ancient stone marker placed by settlers who once claimed this land as their own. Each sight brings back memories that are as much a part of you as they are a part of this place.

But today, these familiar sights are merely blurs in your peripheral vision as Daisy gallops across the landscape. The wind whips through your hair, and you feel a rush of adrenaline as the horse's muscles move powerfully beneath you. It's in these moments that you feel most at peace, in harmony with the natural world around you.

Suddenly, a sharp cry from Daisy breaks the rhythm of her gait. You pull sharply on the reins as a jackrabbit darts out from the underbrush, its sudden appearance startling her. In an instant, your peaceful ride turns to chaos. Daisy rears up, her eyes wide with fear, and you're thrown from the saddle, the world a blur of blue sky and golden earth. The impact is jarring, knocking the breath from your lungs as you hit the ground hard. Pain radiates from your side and arm. As you lie there, struggling to catch your breath, Daisy gallops away towards the safety of the stables, leaving you alone in a cloud of dust.

The sun beats down mercilessly upon you as waves of pain wash over your body. You try to move but find that even breathing is a challenge. You try to push yourself up, but a wave of nausea forces you back down. It's then that you hear the pounding of hooves approaching fast and boots hitting the ground.

"Easy there, easy," a familiar voice drawls as strong hands gently roll you onto your back. Joel's face swims into view, his brow furrowed with concern. "Looks like ya had a bit of a tumble, darlin'. Can you tell me where it hurts?" His voice is deep and soothing, cutting through the haze of pain. You manage to point to your side, wincing as he carefully probes the area. "Just bruised, I reckon," he says after a moment, his touch is surprisingly gentle for such calloused hands. "Your arm too. We should get ya back to the house. Might have t'see the doctor."

Over my dead body, you think to yourself.

With surprising ease, Joel scoops you up into his arms, cradling you against his chest. You can't help but notice the warmth radiating from his body. It's an intimacy that makes your breath hitch in your throat—a sensation that has nothing to do with your injuries.

"Gave me quite the scare there darlin," Joel remarks as he carries you towards his waiting horse. His tone is light but there's an undercurrent of something else—affection? worry? "What were you thinkin’ taking Daisy out alone after that storm last night? These trails can be treacherous."

You want to argue that you're capable and don't need help, that it was just a routine ride and something spooked Daisy but arguing takes energy—energy that's currently in short supply thanks to the pain radiating from your side and shooting through your arm. Instead you murmur a weak apology. "Didn't think it’d be a problem."

Joel chuckles softly. "Well, I reckon that's part of the adventure, ain't it? Never quite knowing what the day's gonna bring." He adjusts his hold on you slightly, his grip firm yet careful. "But next time, maybe wait for someone to come with you. Safety in numbers and all that."

As he settles you onto his horse, he keeps a steady hand on your back, “you okay darlin?” He asks, making sure you're secure before you nod and he swings up behind you as gently as he can. The closeness is overwhelming; his body is a solid wall of heat at your back, and you can feel the muscles in his thighs as they grip the horse's flanks. It's a strange mix of vulnerability and safety, being so close to this man who just (weeks/days?) ago was a little more than a stranger.

The ride back to the ranch is a blur of sensations—the rhythmic sway of the horse beneath you, the scent of leather and sweat mingling with Joel's unique aroma of woodsmoke and something undeniably masculine. You find yourself leaning into him without thinking, seeking comfort in his strength.

"Almost there," Joel reassures you as the house comes into view. His breath is warm against your ear, sending an unexpected shiver down your spine. "We'll get some ice on those bruises and take a look at you."

Once at the ranch house, he carries you inside and sets you down gently on the living room couch crouching beside you to remove your boots. His fingers brush against your skin accidentally as he works them off one by one—a touch that sends sparks racing along your nerves despite yourself and despite any rational thought about how much older he is than you. You quickly blink them away.

"Ice pack," he commands firmly but kindly before disappearing into the kitchen. You hear the clinking of ice being scooped from the freezer.

As Joel returns from the kitchen, the air in the room shifts subtly. He kneels beside you on the couch, his movements deliberate and gentle. "This might be a bit cold at first," he warns, his voice carrying a hint of gruffness that hadn't been there before.

You nod, bracing yourself for the shock of cold. But when he lifts the hem of your shirt to expose your bruised side, the brush of his fingers against the sensitive skin of your stomach sends an unexpected wave of heat coursing through you. It's a clinical touch, meant only to aid in your recovery, but the proximity of his hands to the curves of your body is not lost on you.

He places the makeshift ice pack against your side, the cold seeping your body. You can't help the sharp intake of breath as the icy chill envelops the tender area. Joel's eyes flick to yours, concern etched across his features.

"Sorry, darlin'," he murmurs, his gaze lingering on yours for a moment longer than necessary. "I know it's uncomfortable, but it'll help with the swelling."

You give him a small, reassuring smile, trying to convey that you understand—that you appreciate his attentiveness. As he holds the ice pack in place, his other hand comes to rest on your hip, a steady presence that seems to anchor you amidst the discomfort.

The room is silent save for the soft ticking of the grandfather clock and the occasional crackle of ice as it begins to melt against your skin. You can feel the heat of Joel's palm through the fabric of your jeans, and you find yourself acutely aware of every point of contact between you.

After a few minutes, he slowly lifts the ice pack away, his eyes scanning your side with a practiced eye. "How does it feel now?" he asks, his voice a low rumble that seems to resonate within you.

"A bit better," you admit, the pain having dulled to a manageable ache.

He nods, his attention still focused on your injury. With a gentle touch that belies his rugged exterior, he traces the edge of the bruise with his fingers, his touch feather-light yet firm. The sensation sends a shiver up your spine, and you find yourself holding your breath, waiting for his next move.

"You're gonna be sore for a few days," he says. "But I think you'll live."

As he withdraws his hand, you feel an odd sense of loss, as if the warmth of his touch had become a lifeline in the midst of your pain. You watch as he rises to his feet, his tall frame casting a shadow over you.

"Thank you, Joel," you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper. The words feel inadequate, but they're all you have to offer in this moment.

The corners of Joel's mouth twitch into a small smile, and he gives a nod, turning back towards the kitchen

While he's gone, you take the opportunity to study him from afar as he walks through the open room to the kitchen. There's an air of quiet strength about him, a sense of resilience. You find yourself wondering about his past—where he came from, what brought him here to your family's ranch. But those questions will have to wait for another time; right now, just talking and moving is enough of a challenge without adding an interrogation into the mix.

Joel returns with a glass of water and some painkillers. "Here," he says gently, helping you sit up enough to swallow the pills before lying back down against the cushions with a wince at the sharp pain in your side again.

“Rest up now," Joel instructs. “I'll take care of things around here for the rest of the day. You just focus on healin.”

You drift in and out of sleep on the couch and everytime you drift out you see Joel lingering around keeping watch over you like some kind old west guardian angel dressed in denim.

As the day wanes and the shadows grow long across the hardwood floors, you stir from your uneasy slumber. The pain in your side is a dull roar now, thanks to the medication Joel provided. You blink slowly, your eyes adjusting to the dim light of the living room. The ranch is quiet, save for the occasional creak of the old house settling and the distant sound of Joel's voice as he talks to one of the horses in the stable.

Your heart flutters at the thought of him—his rugged features, his gentle touch, and those eyes that seem to see right through you. It's a dangerous path your thoughts are taking, but you can't help it. There's something about Joel that draws you in, despite the years between you.

The front door opens with a soft squeak, and Joel steps inside, his boots leaving a trail of dust on the floorboards. He looks weary but satisfied, his shirt damp with sweat from a hard day's work. His gaze finds you instantly, and a warm smile spreads across his face.

"You're awake," he observes needlessly as he approaches. "How're you feeling?"

"Sore," you admit with a small grimace as you try to sit up straighter on the couch. "But better than before." You didn't want to admit how bad your arm was actually killing you.

Joel nods in approval before disappearing into the kitchen again—a man of few words but many actions. He returns a bit later with a steaming mug in hand and offers it to you carefully so as not to spill any on your lap.

"Chamomile tea," he explains gruffly when he sees your questioning look at what seems like an unusual choice for someone like him, someone who seems more accustomed to strong black coffee than herbal infusions. "It'll help with any lingering pain and help ya sleep."

You take a tentative sip; making sure to grab the cup with your good hand it's sweetened just how you like it—a small detail that makes your chest tighten unexpectedly because it means he's been paying attention even when he didn’t have to be. The warmth seeps into your hands as much as into your insides making everything feel less daunting all at once despite your injuries.

The evening settles in, casting a cozy glow over the living room. The ranch is quiet, the animals bedded down for the night, and the chores all done. Joel lingers, his presence a comforting constant in the otherwise empty house. He settles into the armchair across from you, the lines of his face softened by the dim light.

"You should eat somethin’," he suggests, already rising from his chair. "I'll fix ya up a plate."

Before you can protest, he's back in the kitchen, the clatter of dishes and the smell of food wafting through the air. You can't help but smile at his insistence. It's been a long time since anyone has taken care of you like this.

Joel returns with a tray balanced in one hand—a simple meal of soup and a sandwich, cut into manageable pieces. He sets it down on the coffee table, pulling it closer to you. "Eat up," he urges, his tone gentle but firm. "You need to keep your strength up."

As you eat, he watches you, his gaze never straying far. It's an odd sensation, being the focus of such intense attention, but you find yourself not minding it. There's a sense of security in his watchfulness, a feeling that you're not alone in this big house.

When you've finished eating, Joel takes the tray away, leaving you to sip your tea in peace. The painkillers are starting to wear off, and as you move to adjust your position on the couch, a sharp, stabbing pain shoots through your arm, causing you to yelp in surprise and discomfort.

Joel, who has been quietly cleaning up the remnants of dinner in the kitchen, is at your side in an instant. "What is it?" he asks, his voice laced with concern. "Did you move wrong?"

"It's my arm," you admit through gritted teeth, cradling the injured limb with your other hand. "I think I might have aggravated it."

With a nod, Joel gently takes your arm in his hands, his touch firm yet gentle. He probes the area with practiced ease, watching your face for any signs of pain. When he reaches a particular spot, you can't help but flinch, a hiss escaping your lips. “Shh, I know. Easy, easy," he soothes you like a wounded animal, before releasing your arm. His brow is furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line. "I don't like the look of this. Could be broken, or at least badly sprained. We need to get you to a doctor first thing in the mornin’."

"I'm sure it's fine, Joel," you argue weakly, not wanting to cause a fuss. "It's probably just a bad bruise. I'll be okay after a good night's sleep."

But Joel is having none of it. "No, it ain't fine," he says firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You could be doin’ more damage by not getting it checked out. I'll drive you to the clinic myself in the morning. This ain’t up for debate."

You know that look on his face—it's the same one he wears when he's dealing with a stubborn horse or a difficult piece of machinery. There's no point in trying to dissuade him when he's made up his mind. And truthfully, the idea of having a professional assess your injuries is somewhat of a relief.

"Alright," you relent with a sigh, the fight draining out of you. "I'll go to the doctor in the morning."

Joel's expression softens, and he gives your good shoulder a gentle squeeze. "That's the smart choice, darlin'. We'll get you fixed up in no time."

As he moves away to finish tidying up the kitchen, you find yourself watching him, a mix of gratitude and something deeper swirling within you. Despite the pain and the uncertainty of your injuries, you can't help but feel a sense of safety and comfort with Joel around. You're taken from your thoughts when Joel comes back into the living room. "I should be gettin’ home," Joel says after a while, his voice low and reluctant. "But I'll be back first thing to check on you."

You nod, trying to hide your disappointment. The house feels too big, too empty to be without him in it. "I'll be okay, Joel," you assure him, trying not to worry him, though the words taste like a stale cigarette on your tongue. "Thank you for everything."

He gives you a long, searching look before nodding slowly. "Alright then," he says, rising from his chair. "You remember what I said about not pushin’ yourself too hard?"

"Yes," you reply with a small smile. "Rest and recovery."

"That's right," he affirms, pulling on his jacket. "And don't hesitate to call me if you need anything—no matter the time."

You watch as he heads for the door, his silhouette framed by the night outside. Just before he steps out into the darkness, he turns back to you, his eyes reflecting the soft light of the living room. "Goodnight darlin," he says, his voice carrying a hint of something unspoken.

"Goodnight, Joel," you whisper back, the words hanging in the air long after he's gone.

The house is silent once more, save for the ticking of the old grandfather clock in the corner. You finish your tea and carefully set the mug aside, the warmth of it still lingering on your lips. With a sigh, you settle back against the cushions, the pain in your side a dull reminder of the day's events.

As the night deepens, you find yourself reaching for your phone, your fingers typing out a message before you can second-guess yourself.

Hey. Just wanted to say thank you again for today. I'm okay, just wanted to say thanks. Hope you got home safe.

What you really meant was, “please come back I'm fucking scared being alone.”

You hit send before you can change your mind, the message disappearing into the ether. Minutes tick by with no response, and you chide yourself for expecting otherwise. Joel is probably already asleep, or at least on his way to getting some much-needed rest after the day he's had. But just as you're about to set your phone aside and try to get some sleep yourself, it vibrates in your hand, startling you. A notification lights up the screen—a new message from Joel.

Of course. That's what I'm here for. Got home just fine. How are the ribs? Any better with the meds?

You can't help but smile at the concern in his words, the gruff affection that seems to come so naturally to him. You reply, telling him about the tea and the meal, about how much better you feel with him looking out for you.

His response is quick, as if he's been waiting by his phone for your message.

Glad to hear it. And remember, there's no rush to get back in the saddle if you're not feeling up to it. Everything will still be here when you're ready. Your health is the priority now. If there's anything I can do for you, just holler. I've got your chores covered. Take care of yourself and don't hesitate to reach out if you need anything or just want to talk about what happened.

You read his words over and over, each one a balm to the lingering ache in your side—and to the unexpected emptiness in your heart. With a contented sigh, you finally set your phone aside and close your eyes, the sound of the ranch at night lulling you into a peaceful sleep.

______________________________________________________________

The next morning, you're awakened by the sound of a vehicle pulling up outside. You rub the sleep from your eyes and glance at the clock—it's early, barely past dawn. With some effort, you manage to sit up and swing your legs over the edge of the couch, wincing at the stiffness in your muscles.

The front door opens, and Joel steps inside, his hands full of a large wicker basket. "Brought you some things," he announces, setting the basket down on the coffee table. Inside, you find an assortment of items—fresh fruit, a few paperback novels, a soft, hand-knitted blanket, and a small potted plant. "I figured you could use some company," he says, gesturing to the plant. "And the books are from my daughter's collection. She loves a good western—thought you might enjoy them."

The revelation that Joel has a daughter is something that catches you off guard, a piece of him that he kept carefully tucked away, a piece you want to know more about.

You're touched by the thoughtfulness of his gifts, each one carefully chosen to bring you comfort during your recovery. "Joel, this is... it's too much," you protest half-heartedly, even as you reach out to run your fingers over the soft wool of the blanket.

"Nonsense, darlin’," he replies with a dismissive wave of his hand.

The way he calls you darlin’ brings heat to your cheeks, and you quickly look away, busying yourself with arranging the items in the basket. When you finally gather the courage to meet his gaze again, you find him watching you with a soft smile on his face and you assume he's forgotten about the doctor until he speaks up.

“Alright let's go.” Joel's stands up and holds a hand out to you.

You look up at him and chuckle “It's fine Joel. It barely even hurts.”

The argument is brief but intense, with you stubbornly insisting that a trip to the clinic is unnecessary despite the pain in your arm. Joel, however, is just as adamant, his concern for your well-being overriding any protests you might have.

"I ain't gonna stand by and watch you suffer when there's somethin’ that can be done about it," he says firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way."

You cross your arms defiantly, wincing as the movement sends a jolt of pain through your injured wrist. "And what's the hard way?" you challenge him, though there's a hint of amusement in your voice.

Without warning, Joel strides toward you, scooping you up into his arms before you can react. You let out a startled yelp as he hoists you over his shoulder with surprising ease, his strong hands holding you securely in place.

"Hey! Put me down!" You pound on his back with your good hand, your cheeks hot with embarrassment and indignation. But beneath the surface, there's an undeniable thrill at being so close to him—at feeling the muscles in his shoulders and back move beneath his shirt as he carries you effortlessly toward the front door.

"As soon as we get to the truck," he replies calmly, unfazed by your struggles. "We're going to see Dr. Simmons whether you like it or not."

You continue to squirm and protest as he carries you across the yard to where his truck is parked. The other ranch hands look on with barely concealed grins but wisely choose to keep their comments to themselves. They know better than to get between Joel Miller and something he's set his mind to.

With a gentleness that belies his gruff exterior, Joel sets you down on the passenger seat of the truck and buckles your seatbelt for you before closing the door and heading around to the driver's side.

Joel.

He grips the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white as he navigates the familiar dirt roads that lead away from the ranch. He can see you out of the corner of his eye, arms crossed, gaze fixed on the passing landscape. A vision of stubborn beauty, your jaw set in a way that makes his heart do things it hadn't done in years. He can feel the tension radiating off you—a mix of pain and frustration at being manhandled against your will. He can't blame you for being upset. If someone had picked him up and carried him off like a sack of feed, he'd be mad too. But when he saw you lying there in the dirt, hurt and vulnerable, something inside him shifted. It awakened a protective instinct that he thought had died along with Sarah.

Damn it, Joel, he chides himself. She's young enough to be your daughter. But the thought feels hollow, a weak defense against the pull he feels toward you. You’re strong, fiercely independent, and yet, there’s a vulnerability to you that calls to something deep within him, the need to care for someone - for you. He glances over at you again, taking in the delicate curve of your jaw, and the way your hair falls in waves around your shoulders, taking in the way the morning light plays across your features. You’re a sight to behold, all fire and spirit wrapped up in a package that is far too tempting for his peace of mind. Every time he looks at you, all logic seems to fly out the window. There's an undeniable connection between you, a spark that ignites whenever you're near each other. It's terrifying and exhilarating, you make him feel young again.

He risks another glance in your direction, and his heart skips a beat when he finds you watching him with those big doe eyes of yours. Joel swallows hard, forcing himself to look away before his thoughts can wander any further down that dangerous path. He needs to focus on getting through this day without letting his guard down completely.

The clinic is just up ahead now, its whitewashed walls gleaming in the early morning sun. He pulls into the parking lot and kills the engine, turning to face you with a stern expression that belies the turmoil he feels inside.

"Ready?" he asks, though it's clear from his tone that it's more of a statement than a question. He's not going to let you talk your way out of this one—not when your health is at stake.

You nod reluctantly, your gaze fixed on the clinic entrance. You're nervous; he can see it in the way your fingers worry at the hem of your shirt, in the slight tremble of your chin. He wants to reach out and wrap you in his arms, to offer some semblance of comfort, but he holds back. It wouldn't be appropriate—not here, not now. Instead, he climbs out of the truck and comes around to open your door for you, offering a hand to help you down onto solid ground.

The interior of the clinic is cool and sterile-smelling—a stark contrast to the fresh air and open spaces of the ranch. Joel checks you in at the reception desk while you sink into one of the waiting room chairs, wincing as even that small movement sends a twinge of pain through your side and arm. Joel takes a seat beside you in the waiting room, his hands clasped tightly between his knees. He can feel the tension emanating from you, a coiled spring ready to leap to action at the slightest provocation. He knows that look—it's the same one he's seen on injured animals over the years, a mix of fear and defiance. It tugs at something deep within him, a primal urge to protect those he cares about most.

He wants to say something to ease your discomfort, but words seem inadequate in the face of your pain. Instead, he reaches out tentatively, his hand hovering just above your knee before he gives in to the impulse and rests it there gently—a silent promise that he's not going anywhere.

You startle at his touch, your gaze flicking to his face in surprise. But as you meet his eyes, you see nothing but sincerity and concern reflected back at you. Slowly, deliberately, you place your own hand over his.

The waiting room is filled with the soft hum of fluorescent lights and the occasional rustle of magazines being flipped through by other patients. Joel's thumb traces idle patterns on your leg as you sit there together in silence.

"Joel," you say finally, breaking the silence that has settled between you. Your voice is quiet, but it cuts through the ambient noise like a knife. "I want to thank you - for everything."

He shakes his head dismissively, though there's a warmth in his eyes that wasn't there before. "No need for thanks," he replies gruffly. "I did what anyone else woulda done."

"No," you insist firmly, turning in your seat so that you're facing him fully now—ignoring the twinge of pain it elicits from your injuries. "Joel," you say again, your voice steady despite the pain you're clearly in. "I mean it. You've been... you've done so much for me. More than I could have asked for."

He opens his mouth to respond, to downplay his role in your care, but the words die on his lips as the nurse appears in the doorway, clipboard in hand. She calls out your name, scanning the room until her eyes land on the two of you.

Reluctantly, Joel withdraws his hand from your knee, the connection between you severed as you rise to follow the nurse. He stands as well, intending to accompany you, but the nurse shakes her head. "Just the patient for now, please," she says with a polite but firm smile.

You shoot him a reassuring look over your shoulder as you follow the nurse down the hallway, leaving Joel alone with his thoughts. He sinks back into his chair, his hands clasped tightly between his knees again as he waits for you to return.

The minutes tick by slowly, each second stretching into an eternity. Joel's mind races with worry and concern. He knows the ranch like the back of his hand, can handle any crisis that comes his way—but this is different. This is about you, and the thought of you in pain, of you being afraid, is more than he can bear.

He can't shake the image of you lying in the dust after being thrown from Daisy, the fear in your eyes when you realized you couldn't get up on your own. It had been years since he'd felt that kind of raw terror, the kind that gripped your heart and squeezed until you couldn't breathe. But in that moment, with you hurt and helpless, it all came flooding back. Joel had always prided himself on his strength, both physical and emotional. He'd had to be strong after Sarah passed, but with you, he felt something shift inside him—a crack in the armor he'd spent years building up around his heart. He cared about you, more than he should. It was a truth he couldn't ignore, no matter how hard he tried. You were young, vibrant, full of potential and promise. And he, well, he was just an old cowboy with more yesterdays than tomorrows. But when he looked at you, when he saw the fire in your eyes, he felt alive in a way he hadn't in years.

He’s pulled from his thoughts when he hears your name called again. He looks up to see the nurse beckoning him forward with a gentle smile.

"You can come back now," she says, her voice soft and reassuring. "She's asking for you."

Joel's heart skips a beat at her words. He rises quickly, his boots thudding against the linoleum floor as he follows the nurse through the maze of hallways to the examination room where you're waiting. His mind races with possibilities—none of them good.

Why would they need me if everything was fine? Had something happened while you were back there? Was the injury worse than they initially thought?

The door to the examination room creaks open, and Joel steps inside, his eyes immediately going to you. You're sitting on the edge of the examination table, your face pale but composed. The relief that washes over him at seeing you unharmed is palpable; it leaves him momentarily lightheaded as he crosses the room to your side.

"What's goin on?" he asks urgently, his gaze flicking between you and the doctor who is standing nearby with a clipboard in hand. "Is everything alright?"

Dr. Simmons gives him a reassuring nod before turning his attention back to you. "I was just explaining to your friend here that it looks like she's got some bruised ribs and a fracture in her wrist," he says matter-of-factly as he jots something down on his clipboard. "We'll need to keep an eye on those ribs—make sure there's no internal bleeding or complications—but I think she'll be just fine with some rest and proper care.We gave her some pain medication before the x-ray. It may make her tired so she will need to be watched. No driving, etc. And she will need to come back in three weeks from now to get an updated x-ray of her wrist."

Joel lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, relief flooding through him like a tidal wave crashing against jagged rocks. He reaches out instinctively, taking your good hand in his own as he listens intently while Dr. Simmons goes over your care instructions.

Once the doctor finishes his instructions and hands over the prescription, Joel helps you down from the examination table, his hand at the small of your back providing a steady, reassuring presence. "Let's get your meds and then getcha home," he says softly, guiding you out of the clinic and back to his truck.

The drive to the pharmacy is quiet, the air between you thick with unspoken thoughts and emotions. Joel keeps stealing glances at you, noting the way you're cradling your injured wrist against your chest, the way your breath hitches ever so slightly when the truck hits a bump in the road. He wants to say something, to offer some words of comfort, but he's never been good with this sort of thing. He's a man of action, not words.

At the pharmacy, Joel takes charge, handling the paperwork and payment while you sit quietly on a nearby bench. He can see the exhaustion etched into your features, the way your eyelids are starting to droop. He knows you're running on fumes, and the pain medication will likely knock you out soon.

He heads back to the ranch, the truck's engine humming softly beneath the weight of the silence that stretches between you. You're fading fast, the medication they gave you at the doctor taking its toll. He can see you struggling to keep your eyes open, your body swaying slightly with each turn of the vehicle.

Once he reaches the ranch house, he parks as close to the front door as possible and hurries around to your side of the truck. You're already half-asleep by the time he opens your door, your eyelids fluttering as you fight to stay awake. "Easy now," Joel murmurs, unbuckling your seatbelt and scooping you into his arms with a tenderness that surprises even himself. You let out a soft sigh as he carries you into the house, your head lolling against his chest. The trust you place in him is both humbling and terrifying and the sweet little noises coming from your mouth don't make any of this easier.

He settles you onto the couch, propping pillows behind your back to keep you comfortable. You smile sleepily up at you, a smile that sends a jolt straight to his heart and many other places. "Stay with me?" You ask quietly.

How could he possibly say no?

Joel nods, brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face, “‘course darlin, just gonna make you somethin to eat real quick.” Joel heads into the kitchen to prepare something for you to eat. An Eggo waffle seems like a safe bet—simple and comforting in its familiarity. He pops one into the toaster and waits impatiently for it to brown, his thoughts consumed by the woman lying on the couch.

Joel returns to the living room, the scent of warm waffles wafting through the air. He sets the plate down on the coffee table, along with a glass of water and the bottle of pain medication the pharmacist had given him. "Here you go, darlin'," he says softly, offering you a small smile. "Eat up, and then we'll get you settled in with a movie or somethin."

You nod, managing a weak smile in return as you reach for the waffle with your good hand. The simple act of eating seems to revive you somewhat, though Joel can tell you're still in a considerable amount of pain. He watches as you take a tentative bite, followed by a sip of water to wash it down.

"Thank you," you murmur between bites, your eyes meeting his in a silent exchange of gratitude and concern.

Joel nods, his throat tightening unexpectedly at the sincerity in your voice. "Anything for you," he replies gruffly, the words slipping out before he can stop them. He quickly clears his throat and changes the subject. "What do ya feel like watchin’? There's some old western tapes layin around or we could find somethin else.”

“Hmmm” You think about it for a moment before responding with a slight shrug of your shoulders—a movement that causes you to wince slightly, “I'm not picky. Whatever you want cowboy.”

If only I could tell ya what I want darlin’

Taglist: @mermaidgirl30 @maried01

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x you

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tafeproject · 2 years

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Tafe | Cultivating the World

TAFE manufactures Agro Engines under the Eicher Engines brand. They are superior-quality diesel engines that offer high performance.

tractor for hire best tractor for farming in India

#tractor for hire best tractor for farming in India

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sandyseagullsip · 2 months

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Farmhand!Simon

Eh, ill come up with a title later.

Part 2

Sure, Simon is your brother's best friend. Your brother practically begged your father to hire him to work on the farm. He isn’t bad at his job either, just… a little odd. And quiet. And slightly unnerving.

And sure, you are just his best friend’s sister. You were the first one to greet him when he came to work for the first time because everyone else was asleep. You’re helpful too, just… beautiful damned distracting.

Your father still has you work, though, even with Simon helping. But, of course, he is still wary of Simon. Not that he doesn’t trust Simon (he doesn’t), but you are his only daughter, and he feels the need to protect you to the ends of the earth. That doesn’t stop Simon from stealing glances and thinking about you. Like when he helped you with the cows for the first time.

A baby calf had gotten separated from its mother— and the other cows, for that matter— and was now stuck in the chain link fence. The way the calf was stuck made you nervous to move her… but you were able to get her out.

Trying to pick her up was a different story.

The damned thing was so heavy for her being small— a healthy-sized calf, around 82 to 85 pounds. After multiple tries, the man who had been silent since the day he’d first seen you came up to you and said something.

“You’ll throw your back out doin’ tha’ love.” He had grumbled at you.

And with ease, he picked up the calf, waiting for you to show him where to put her. He followed behind you, with the occasional ‘moooooo’ from the calf. Upon returning the calf, he smiled at you and brushed off his shirt.

“Don’t be afraid t’ ask for help. Don’t wanna see y’ get hurt, and I definitely don' want t’ hear your father complain about it.” Simon told you, tipping his hat slightly.

Simon was on tractor duty now, as you and your brother tended to the livestock.

“You like him?” He asks you, grabbing the chicken feed.

“He works hard, John, it’s respectable.” You reply.

“Not what I asked you. Do you like him?”

“He’s a good person.”

John sighs, motioning for you to take the feed from him.

“You know dad doesn’t like him.” He mentioned.

Do you like him? You respect him, you think he's responsible, helpful, all that jazz… but do you like him?

Simon, on the other hand, already had an answer to his side of the question. He liked you. He really liked you. And he had decided that he was going to have you.

And John knew this, and he wasn't going to let you ruin his friendship with Simon.

And Simon knew this, and he was going to make sure he got you under your family's radar.

He was good at that sort of thing, getting his job done and leaving like only a ghost (ha.) was there.

So, from now on, any favors you want from him will be done, and much more. He wants to see you happy, and he'll make sure he does.

If it's carrying a cow, or picking a bouquet (that he'll never admit to picking himself), he'll do whatever it takes to make you love him smile.

---

Note: not proofread, just wanted to get it out there.

for @beautifulcherryblossompeach.

🫡

#call of duty #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x female reader #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost

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enviedear · 10 months

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jackie and wilson — billy bonney

⤷ modern!billy au

tw— somehow this is 4.6k words. mentions of food and eating, talk of religion and bible verses, (i'm southern and was forced to go to church every sunday it reflects in the writing) smutty themes so, minors dni, 18+ only, kissing, fondling, skinny dipping, (they're in their undies) so horrifically fluffy

i can already tell this is going to become an ongoing series, so be sure to comment and lmk if you want more. also, this is influenced by my daily mantra

request

the summer heat feels like it's baking you as you traverse through the long grass of your farmland. birds call and screech in the trees lining the woods beside you. if you weren't so scared of walking the shortcut in the woods alone, your risk of sun poisoning may seem less apparent.

you grip the wicker basket in your hands tighter, eyes squinting to look for the lean farmhand-for-hire. in years past, you've been keen to take his place whenever your grandparents needed someone for an oddball job. working long hours with the older couple up until you graduated from the county high school. as the seasons changed, and you got older and busier, so did your grandparents. their work on their farm proved in dire need of help.

a simple fix—you. this summer, free from university and your internship, your parents elected you to spend the free time of your summer working on your loving grandparents' farm.

in the early days of the warm season, you managed pretty well on your own. you tended the vegetables and the fruits, took care of the chickens and sheep, and sowed the large fields with grain until sunset.

everything changed after an unfortunate incident with your grandpa's gargantuan baler. luckily, you were fine, but your pa's expensive baler was wrecked all to hell.

so here you were, now relegated to some pseudo farmer's daughter role, hand-delivering water and a full lunch to none other than billy bonney.

your grandparents say billy's nice enough, mannerly yet hushed. but you know there's more to it. at least if small town gossip is anything to believe, and here, it usually is.

everyone knows the crowd billy runs around with. he's also got a vile gang of friends. angry men with sly smirks who spend most of their free time loitering the town's local bar or gambling away their lives at lawrence murphy's corral. the type of men to carry a weapon at all times without any license, and quick to threaten to shoot with even the most minor infraction.

the knowledge was enough to have you hiding away from him every time your grandparents hired him for a job.

everytime that is, until now.

you knew with the way your pa sternly stared into your eyes that a complaint wouldn't be warranted. as your grandma instructed you to bring the farmhand some, "hearty lunch for his hard work," you came to terms with the fact that you had no right to argue.

not when you owe the old man a baler.

you finally reach the young man, covered in grime and leaning against his parked pickup, out of breath and sweltering. you try not to stare at the baler attached to the tractor, about twenty feet from his parked vehicle, your embarrassment over wrecking the last one still ever present.

his truck has its' doors wide open, blaring music through blown speakers. you try to avoid making direct eye contact with him, voice raised slightly to be heard over the folk song playing, "here. figure you're hungry."

lifting the tea towel from the top of the basket, you set it on his open truck bed. despite not looking up, you can see him hurry to turn his music down before sauntering over to you from the side of your gaze.

"thank you," his voice surprises you. it's gruff but gentle. "you kin to the old couple?"

you're not sure why, but you take offense to his question. sure you've ignored him, but you know that he knows who you are. you meet his stare, your tone dry in response, "i am."

he inclines his head toward the basket, ignoring your reply with a hum, "what'd ya' bring me, hon?"

your eyes roll unabashed at his endearment, "my grandma threw a bit of everything in there. i know there's some jambalaya— the last bit of our mud cake too."

"you're spoiling me, you tell her i said thank you," he pauses, peering down at you, "are you going to be bringin' me my lunch everyday?"

his question is innocuous but something in the way he says it makes your stomach drop. you shrug, "sure, i guess."

"i'd like that." he slips the words out before his hands dive into the basket, fishing out one of the water bottles.

you nod, confused by him, "yeah well, be careful. i guess i'll see you tomorrow."

at that you turn from him, walking your trail again to get back to the house. you fight the urge to look over your shoulder and catch a glimpse of him. some proof he's really there, that the interaction actually happened.

because despite the second-hand opinion you've held on him, billy bonney was unexpected. annoyingly so.

as you finish up your day, you can't help but think about the encounter with the dark-haired farmhand. you've known of him for years, sure, but you never expected much of him.

just another one of jesse evans’ rowdy boys.

shocking, that billy would be so different. or maybe, just better at hiding his depravity. you think back to his voice, rough around the edges, yet littered with tenderness. it’s not until you think back to his gentle smile that you realize, there’s a kindness that exudes from him, and it’s got you hook, line, and sinker.

you wonder if he's always been this way? you like to think he has. even if it is only a platitude for your undeniable crush.

in the following days, you continue to bring the farmhand his lunch, stopping to talk to him longer each noon. he's easy to talk to, apt to ask you about your day, or if you need anything. you can't exactly explain why, but you're drawn to him.

it's extra muggy as you pack up his lunch and make your way to him, breaking from his time on the baler to lay in the bed of his truck.

he doesn't take notice of you until your basket finds home right beside him, blasted speakers blaring yet another folk tune.

"hey there," he greets you with a grin, his white work shirt wrought with soil, the short sleeves haphazardly rolled, "you know i'm starting t'get used to this."

you smile back, feeling a warm sensation spreading through your body, "i'm sure you are."

billy takes a look in the lunch basket, grabbing out some water first to clear the dirt on his hands, "you wanna hang around for a bit?"

you hesitate for a moment, not sure if you should. not only do you have a long list of chores, you also still find a bit of nervousness around the young man.

but billy's been nice enough, and if he's anything like his friends you assume he would have shown it by now, "i guess i have some time."

billy nods, handing you a water and patting the free space beside him. you hop up, close enough that his side brushes yours.

the sensation sends shivers down your spine as you try to focus on conversation, pulling for anything you can say. for a moment, neither of you speaks, the only sound is coming from the music blasting from his speakers. an old rock song today, different. your eyes try to look anywhere but at him, taking in the vast expanse of farmland around you.

"must be nice to have all this land to yourself," billy says, breaking the silence.

you nod, grateful for his compliment, "it is. my grandparents have worked hard to keep it running."

"i can tell," billy says, taking a swig from his water bottle, "they got a good thing goin' here."

you agree, taking a sip from your own bottle. the sun beats down on your skin, making you feel sweaty and sticky. billy, on the other hand, seems used to it. he looks up at the sky, squinting against the sunlight.

"you know, i was thinking," billy says, steady voice breaking the silence again, "what would you say if i took you out sometime?"

your heart skips a beat, your mind going into overdrive. you never expected billy to ask you out, even more so that you’d be so willing to entertain the idea.

you hesitate for a moment before answering, "i don't know. i mean, i barely know you."

this is a half truth, you know him. only this version though, the sweet billy bonney who works on your family farm and takes his lunch breaks with you. you don't have any idea who he is outside of these moments.

at least not first hand. just second hand gossip. you wouldn’t even know which stories are real or fake. you’re not sure if he’s a convincing actor or genuine soul. there are rumors he shot a man back in his hometown. that he launders money with jesse evans’ gang. that he’s a cheat from a rodeo front, taking ignorant peoples’ bet money.

billy hums, breaking your anxious thoughts, "what'd you wanna know, hon? i'm an open book."

you chew on your lip, thinking about it. it could be a smart move, you're curious about him and need to know more. you need to know what about him is fact or fiction. but at the same time, you're afraid of what the truth may be, "i don't know," you say finally. "i mean, work, for example. is this all you do?"

billy cracks a smile, "no, hon’. this s’more of a side job.” he sighs, “i was a pickup for jesse evans' rodeo for a while, but that new fella' that just came to town—mr. tunstill, he's got me a better gig."

you furrow your brows, already on edge by the mention of his previous employer, "and what exactly is that?"

he chuckles a bit, "he's got me as a producer, but i do show on the weekends."

"so what? you're a full-fledged rodeo man? with bulls and all?" you'd always know of jesse's grimy ‘rodeo’, really just used as a gambling den and club, but you're intrigued by the idea of billy actually doing it. especially working with tunstill, a sincerely kind wealthy man from overseas. it must be a stark contrast to jesse’s.

"i guess. it's a good time and you can make honest money dependin' on the event," he pauses, "it's not like jesse's, if that's what you're wondering."

you look away from him, "my pa never let me go. when i turned twenty-one i tried to go with a bunch of my girlfriends. he about had a stroke keeping me out the door."

"he's smart, you shouldn't go. those guys are bad news." he's talking quieter now, less sugary and more solemn.

you fight your previous embarrassment, opting to stare straight into his pale blues, "you hang around those guys."

your sentiment is clear and billy goes hush for a long few seconds before speaking, eyes closed, "do not carouse with drunkards or feast with gluttons, for they are on their way to poverty, and too much sleep clothes them in rags."

you know those words, heard primarily while crammed in a pew, "you're a religious man?" you don't mean to, but your question comes out a bit unconvinced.

he opens his eyes back up, a spark of something you can't place within them, "no, not really. jus' something mr. tunstill keeps repeating to me. i didn't really pay it any mind till i met you."

you try to ignore the way his hand inches closer to your own, "why's that?"

"not sure. just seems easier to abide by now. i'd hate to end up like them. i know you don't like 'em." his voice is soft, but the hand that takes hold of yours isn't.

you look down at your feebly interlocked hands, hesitating, and then taking his hand with the same conviction, "no, i don't," a breath, "but i like you."

billy's face lights up at your words, and he leans in closer to you. you can feel his breath on your face, and your heart races with excitement and anticipation. you’ve never felt to entrapped in a man before, so ready to dive in head first.

without thinking, you reach out to touch his sun kissed cheek, and he leans into your hand. your fingers trace a path down his cheek, and then down to his lips. you have an overwhelming urge to kiss him, and you're surprised when he pulls back.

"i'm sorry, i shouldn't have done that." you say, feeling embarrassed.

"no, it's not that. it's just… i want to take you out on a real date. something proper." his cheeks have grown far more pink, only this time it's not the sun's doing.

you consider his words for a moment, before nodding, "that sounds real nice, billy."

he grins, and you feel a flutter in your chest. how he managed to make you feel this way so soon, you're not sure.

"you free this friday?" he asks, amusement in his tone.

you release his hand, grabbing for your phone, "should be, my boss loves me," a stupid joke, but you hand the touchscreen to him, "put your number in, so we can plan a time."

you climb down from the bed of the truck, peering up at the farmhand as he adds his number to your phone. when he's done he hands you back the phone, the sun casting an auburn glow to his hair.

you look up at him, and he smiles down at you, "don't be a stranger." he jokes.

you give him a laugh, "wouldn’t dream of it," you add, "i'll see you friday— i'm going into town with my grandma tomorrow. i'm sure it'll last all day."

billy hums, "till' friday, honey."

you turn and head back to the house, smiling to yourself, feeling happy and alive in a way that you haven't felt in a long time.

the next day, thursday, you wake up early to accompany your grandma into town. the older woman drags you up and down shopping centre's, moaning on and on about how cheaply things are made now.

you make it through the first ten stores without your smile cracking, you think it must be a finely tuned talent.

it's not until well after lunch the woman decides to slow down, stopping at a local diner to eat. she does most of the talking, gossiping about everyone she's run into today.

you love your grandma and you enjoy your time with her, but you're too focused on tomorrow to really be good company.

if she notices your change in behavior though, she doesn't comment. highly unlike her.

by the time the sky is more dark than light, you two head home. she plays old country music the whole ride, teeny-bopper songs that remind you how young she used to be.

and when you finally lay your head down to rest, you don't try to fight off the supercut in your mind of your sweet farmhand.

the next day, fateful friday, arrives with a mix of nerves and excitement. you find yourself checking the clock more often than usual, the anticipation building as the day progresses. your mind drifts to the possible plans for the evening, wondering where billy might take you on this 'proper date.'

a bit after the sun hits noon, you finish up your chores on the farm, your thoughts consumed by your impending evening. you decide to freshen up and put on something nice, an easy way to get your mind together.

your closet here is less thorough than the one at home, but the innocent tops and bottoms of your late teens still fit. you look less severe than you'd normally for a date. forgone are the dark, tight, and sultry clothes of your college town, leaving you looking ever so sweet.

the early afternoon arrives, and you hear the distant rumble of his pickup as it approaches. you feel alight with a muddled mess of nerves as you make your way out of the house to meet him.

you look over your shoulder when you crack the door open. making sure you haven't awoken your sleeping grandparents, who rarely miss their three o'clock naps.

the summer sun is high in the sky, casting a bright glow over the landscape. billy's leaned up against his truck, staring expectantly at your front porch— staring at you, you realize.

as you walk to him, you can't help but notice the effort he put into dressing up. his filthy work shirt is replaced with a clean, green linen button-down, and there's a hint of ambery cologne in the air. he offers you a genuine smile, eyes lighting up as he takes in your appearance.

"hey there, beautiful." he greets you, a hand coming to rest on your shoulder blade, comforting.

"hi," you reply, returning his saccharine smile. "you clean up nice."

he chuckles, a bit bashful, "well, i figured it's a special occasion."

you let him lead you to the passenger side, where he opens the rusty pickup's door for you, you fight back your grin when he follows in after.

as you drive into town, the atmosphere is a blend of excitement and a tinge of nervousness. billy takes you to a quaint little restaurant a bit outside of town. it's casual but with dim lights and a cozy ambiance. certainly it's the most romantic restaurant around without heading an hour out into the city. the two of you share stories and laughs, finding little to no lull in conversation.

"you want any dessert?" you ask, fiddling a loose thread at the hem of your blouse.

billy shrugs, "i've never said no to some banana puddin'. what'd you say?"

you giggle, nodding in agreement. you feel high off of his company. you're giddy and doing a horrible job at hiding it, but he doesn't seem to mind. instead, he relegates to matching your optimism, only validating every enamored thought of him that rings in your mind.

the warm evening air swirls around you as the two of you exit the restaurant. billy offers his hand, and you gladly intertwine your fingers as you stroll down the sidewalk. the town square is alive with the soft glow of streetlights.

as you walk, the conversation continues, easy and simple. billy talks animatedly about his past few weekends at the rodeo and shares some amusing anecdotes about the other rider’s on the circuit. you, in turn, finally divulge your baler incident, much to his chagrin.

the final hours of afternoon are slowly rolling in, and soon you find yourselves back at his pickup truck. you assume he'll drive you home, but to your surprise, he takes a different route, heading towards the backroads right beside your land. you raise an eyebrow, curious about this unexpected detour.

"where are we going?" you inquire, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

billy smirks but doesn't say anything, keeping the destination a secret. the road is winding and narrow— made of dirt and full of large potholes. you know your little front-wheel drive could never make it. eventually, he slows the car off the path, onto the side of the road.

there's an apparent trail just to the right of you, and when billy opens the door for you, he immediately ushers you toward it, "don't worry, we won't go too far in."

you'd be lying if you said the setting sun wasn't adding a level of unease to the idea of entering the woods, but when you look at billy, eyes bright and smile true, you throw aside your worries.

the young man is true to his word. the trek into the woods only lasts a few minutes before you see it. an azure expanse of water— a secluded lake surrounded by towering oak trees and a backdrop of rolling hills.

you turn back to look at him, shocked, "how did you find this?"

"jus’ by chance a few years ago. i figured you'd been out here before, living so close," he remarks, "but i like that i got to show it to you." billy admits, a devoted glint in his eyes.

as you stand there, gazing at the serene lake, you feel a sense of wonder and gratitude for this unexpected and beautiful surprise. you can't remember the last time the familiar landscape of home felt so awing. billy seems to be taking in your reaction, a quiet satisfaction evident on his face.

"it's breathtaking." you finally say, your voice hushed in appreciation.

billy grins, seemingly pleased with your reaction, "so are you."

you turn back to the water to hide your flustered expression.

you watch him find a comfortable spot by the water's edge, sitting on a large flat rock. you follow suit, letting your head nestle into his chest. the sounds of nature surround you—the rustling leaves, the gentle lapping of the water, and the distant calls of birds. it's a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of the town and the farm.

you look up at him as inconspicuously as possible, eager to commit his image to memory. his umber hair curls at the nape of his neck, slender nose burnt from the sun, his freckles apparent, and his ever-inspired blue eyes reflecting the water ahead.

you look away as your heartbeat quickens, afraid that if you peer up any longer he'll be able to hear the rhythm.

"can you swim?" you ask, toes dipping into the waters below.

billy's gaze softens, the radiant hues of his eyes flickering with warmth as he looks down at you. his calloused hand idly tracing circles on your back, comforting, "yeah, i can swim. why? you wanna go for a dip?" he replies, a playful glint dancing across his face.

enthusiastically, you nod, "i'd love to. it's been ages since i've been swimming in a place like this."

with a charismatic grin, billy stands up, extending a hand to help you rise. he doesn't hesitate to unbutton his shirt and free himself from his pants— clothed only in his black boxers.

you try to be as carefree as him, but you're slower to shed your attire. by the time you do, he's already shoulder deep in the water.

you make your way to the water's edge, stepping in. the cool embrace of the lake greets your skin as you wade in. the sun now casts a dim golden glow on the rippling surface.

as you move deeper into the water, you feel a sense of liberty wash over you. you let out a contented sigh, feeling weightless and unburdened. billy is a few feet away from you, beckoning you to come closer with a smile on his face. you oblige, splashing water playfully in your wake.

as you approach him, he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close. you can feel the heat emanating from his body, warming you up in the cool water. your bare skin presses against his, and you can feel a hint of longing course through your veins.

"you're s'beautiful," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "prettiest girl i've ever seen."

you chuckle slightly, looking beside him to the water, "you're just blowing smoke up my ass."

his hand finds your cheek, gently beckoning you to face him fully, "why would i ever do that?" he hums, "i only say things i mean, honey."

you blink at him, too far gone to stop your gaping, "you're a charmer, billy bonney. do you hear that a lot?"

he laughs, both hands now coming to rest at your hips, forcing you to wrap your legs around his, "i only need to hear it from you."

he says it so carelessly, without a thought. he's telling the truth, you surmise.

"why? you like me or something?" the words come out genuine, despite your teasing intent.

billy's eyes trail down to your lips, "i like you a whole lot, honey," you feel his grip grow steadier, holding you closer to him. he looks back up at you, gaze tempting, "i like you s'much i worked an extra four days on your farm jus’ to see you."

the revelation hangs in the air, and you find yourself caught in a suspended moment, the water lapping gently around you. billy's admission resonates, sinking deep into the newfound connection you've shared over these past days. his stare, earnest and reserved, locks with yours, and you can't help but feel a swirl of emotions.

a smile plays on your lips, a mixture of surprise and awe, "that's dedication." you reply, a playful sparkle in your eyes.

billy grins, his hands still securely holding you. "only for you, honey. i'm nothin' if not devoted."

you gleam at his words, intrinsically leaning closer to him. you're so close to letting your lips brush his before you stop, eager to see the weight of his affection once more, "you can kiss me now, if that's what you're waiting for."

with that, he presses his lips to yours, kissing you with a hunger that leaves you breathless. you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you, savoring the taste of him on your tongue.

billy breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck and collarbone, leaving a trail of kisses and nips along the way. you tilt your head back, giving him better access to your skin, letting out a soft sigh as he finds the sensitive spot on your neck.

"you're gonna be the death o'me." he whispers against your skin, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

your fingers tangle in his hair as he continues his assault on your neck, alternating between gentle kisses and nibbles. you can feel the heat building between your bodies, the water around you providing a cooling effect to your heated embrace.

billy's hands slip down to cup your ass, pulling you closer to him so that there's barely any space between you. he grinds his hips against yours, earning a moan from deep in your throat. you can feel his hardness pressing against you through the thin fabric of his boxers.

your eyes flutter open and you lock gazes with him, the intensity of his gaze mesmerizing. you tilt your head back down, allowing him to steal another kiss. his tongue teases yours. his hands roam up and down your body, exploring every inch of you he can with a passionate fervor.

you can feel yourself being taken into the depths of him until you can barely think or breathe. it's only when he finally pulls away, that you realize the afternoon has fully evolved into the beginnings of nighttime. the sky above you is almost entirely dark, littered with stars.

somehow, you still don’t think the kiss was long enough.

billy smiles at you, brushing his hair away from his eyes. you can't help but smile back, feeling content and happy.

"i think i like you too much." he murmurs, his warm breath caressing your skin. you laugh softly, feeling the same way.

a hum of agreement, "me too." you whisper back, pulling him into a tight hug. you stay like that for a while, enjoying the warmth and comfort of each other's embrace.

as the night deepens, you and billy finally decide to make your way back to the truck. billy helps you out of the water, his touch lingering as you both reluctantly part from the tranquil lake. the air is filled with the sounds of nocturnal creatures, their symphony accompanying your footsteps as you follow the narrow trail back to the pickup truck.

the woods, now cloaked in darkness, take longer to exit. the moonlight filters through the dense canopy of leaves, casting shadows on the forest floor.

once back at the truck, you find yourself wrapped in a cozy blanket billy had thoughtfully brought along. the drive home is filled with a comfortable silence, the events of the evening settling into a cherished memory. the road is dimly lit by the truck's headlights, and the night sky is a canvas of stars above.

as you approach the farmhouse, the thrill of the night lingers between you and billy. he parks the truck, and the engine falls silent. the two of you sit in the quiet for a moment, savoring the experience.

"thank you for tonight, you were real sweet." you say, breaking the silence.

billy turns to you, a peaceful smile playing on his lips. "i should be thanking you, for goin’ out with me. so thank you, darling. i think you're real sweet too."

"i'm real glad we met." you add.

he reaches over, his hand finding yours, fingers intertwining in a comfortable gesture. "me too," he replies, his gaze holding yours.

with a reluctant smile, you open the truck door, preparing to step out. billy, however, stops you with a gentle tug on your hand.

"before you go," he starts, a hint of uncertainty in his eyes, "i was wonderin' if you'd like to do this again sometime. maybe i could take you down to the rodeo?"

the question catches you off guard, but the sincerity in his expression is undeniable. you feel a warmth spread through your chest, and you nod, "i'd like that, billy."

he grins, the moonlight casting a soft glow on his features. "good. it's a date then." you agree, leaning up and placing a peck on his pink lips before stepping out of the truck.

it's not until you're safely inside that he drives away into the night, the sound of the engine fading into the distance.

even as you slip into bed, the memories of the night play in your mind like a vivid dream. you drift into sleep with thoughts of the lake, the evening kisses, and the now waivered apprehension of the farmhand.

you've found yourself ensnared with billy bonney.

—reblog and like if you enjoyed, let ur local writer know you like her work !

billy taglist— @honey-bees-13 @poppyflower-22 @black-yn @siriuslybeloved @sherlollyliveson18 @cosmicspacewitch @aravenswritingdeskblog @sabrinasbd @cqsmo @coconut-dreamz @preciouspinkyy

₊˚౨ৎ˚₊ to remain on my taglist, make sure to interact :)

#billy the kid #billy bonney #billy the kid x reader #billy bonney x reader #william h bonney #william h bonney x reader #tom blyth!billy the kid #tom blyth #billy bonney fluff #billy the kid fluff #i know everyone’s in their coriolanus era but…

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running-with-kn1ves · 3 months

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Been out in the sticks lately so-- really need a big burly farmer with topaz tan lines, oiled up in washed out jeans and faded flannel in my life right now. Having hired you from the city, the farmer begs you to fix up the flower beds around their house that used to belong to their parents.

They'll teach you how to get the most out of a rake, hands over yours and muscles vibrating with each row. You spend the day on your hands and knees, sweating from the hot sun and digging out weeds. Occasionally you're called inside for a glass of lemonade or cold, home-grown milk.

You admire the farmer for too long, on their tractor or feeding their caddle out of the palm of their hand, straw hat doing little to shade their sculpted body from the unrelenting sun. The sweet scent of their musk is left on the gardening gloves they offer you, warmly perspiring hands helping you out of their beaten down truck after a trip to the other side of the farm. You find it hard to go home, the sun having set and the rode to the outside world now dark and invisible.

The farmer offers you to spend the night instead of driving two hours back to the city. What can you do but say yes? They didnt give you much of an option, having set up the guestroom for you long prior and beginning to cook a fine meal that would insult them to say no to. It takes atleast a half hour to scrub the dirt from under your nails in the bath, with constant knocks at the door from your friendly farmer asking if everything is alright, if the water is hot enough, if you need help washing.

They spend so much time doting on your bathing that they hardly pay mind to themselves, coming out of the shower afterwards in a mere towel as they scrounge around for clothes. It isn't until they make eye contact with you on their bed, waiting, that they stop and stare sheepishly.

"Haha, im sorry darlin' I've lived alone for so long, I've forgotten my manners."

They kiss your knuckles after tucking you in bed, a self assured grin making your heart jump. It's just a job, right? A client who's showing you southern hospitality, yeah?

It isn't long until they're asking you to order more flowers to plant across the acres they own, a project that'll take atleast a few more weeks...

#Werewolf farmer... uncanny creepy idk what that is but it's not human farmer #kn1ves rants #knives rants #writing #x reader #reader insert #self insert #x reader insert #x you #x gn reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #female reader #male reader #Farmer x reader #Farmer love interest #farmer oc #X reader #X reader insert

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theminecraftbee · 6 months

Note

Vintagebeef and time loop?

The second-most annoying thing, he thinks, is that his crops just won't grow.

He's wanted to retire for a while now. Head out and live on a farm. Get some rest. Not have to worry about gunfire and business fronts and drugs and appearances and being in charge. He'd known he wouldn't be able to escape fully. Beef always knew he was on a timer, no matter how he tried to bury the hatchet and bury his past behind you. It always catches up.

He had a big name. He had a big life. He can't just retire from being head of Big Salmon, even if his loyal Skizzleman is the only person he told where he was going. One day, someone will catch up with him, and perhaps if he's lucky they'll turn his tractor into a car bomb. If he's unlucky, it'll be personal.

So in a lot of ways, really, the fact he keeps on waking up in the morning is a gift. It may be the same morning over and over again, sure, but he collects the eggs from his chickens, and he pats his dog, and he feeds his pigs, and he feels the sun shine on his face in a place that smells nothing like asphalt and fumes.

If his tomatoes would grow, it'd be nearly perfect, getting to wake up again and again in the sun like this. It's better than a man like him deserves, really. And it may be Wednesday, and Wednesday, and no tomorrows, but he didn't have himself much of a tomorrow anyway, and collecting the eggs from the chickens is nearly as good as harvesting the crops.

Quiet, and peaceful.

Or it should be. But see: the crops not growing are the second-most annoying thing.

The first most annoying is--

"HALLO! I have decided that this time, I am announcing I am here to assassinate you, ah? That way, you won't see it coming and manage to escape."

Beef groans and puts his head in his hands. A red dot appears on his temple.

"Don't try to run. You have a lovely home, of course, and I don't want to put holes in it. You've repaired those holes real fast, I have to say. You're a real hole expert. No, wait, that sounds terrible in English. Ah well, I'll just say it again."

It's him again.

"...hello? VintageBeef? I have been hired to kill you by your rivals? You aren't even moving. See, this is how you always get me. You do not move and I think I have killed you, then I come back in the morning and it is fixed! Very strange, very strange."

He hasn't realized it's a time loop. Somehow. Beef's tried to tell him. It's a little hard when he's busy being as annoying as possible, and ruining what would otherwise be the best chance for Beef to retire he's got.

"Well, okay, I guess I'll just pull the trigger. This is boring. You're boring, except for the part where you won't die. Hey, wait, maybe you can introduce me to your chickens instead? So next time I can bring you a totally safe chicken."

"Go away," Beef says.

"But I'm being paid so much money to kill you!" the famed assassin codenamed Iskall85 says. "We're friends, aren't we?"

"No!"

"But I've tried to do this so many ways!"

"Have you considered there's a reason it's not working?"

Iskall considers for a moment. "Naaaaah," he says, and Beef's instincts flare all at once. He dives to the ground as Iskall takes the shot. "Awww, no fair. I thought you were not moving."

"What do you want from me," Beef says.

"I mean, I feel like I've been pretty clear," Iskall says, and Beef doesn't say that he's not even asking Iskall at this point. He's asking the universe. He's asking this Wednesday. He's asking why this has happened to him.

The universe, of course, does not respond, and Beef ducks behind cover for yet another day of his peaceful time loop retirement being completely ruined.

#answered #fakezircon #ask game #a bee fic #hermitfic #hermitcraft #vintagebeef #iskall85 #i am just writing these as my brain takes me btw. anyway take this bizzare trope mashup of an au #like can you IMAGINE it would be fantastic right

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guzhufuren · 6 months

Text

South Korea 🇰🇷 A Guide to Some of the Best Queer Asian Shows

Full list here.

1.��Love for Love's Sake inside of a video game; high school setting; healing

At the age of 29 Tae Myungha finds himself transported into a fictional video game, and now 19 years old, he meets Cha Yeowoon, who is in the darkest moment of his life. And a translucent window appears where he receives a mission — to make Cha Yeowoon happy.

iQIYI (better subtitles) or GagaOOLala

2. Semantic Error enemies to lovers; university setting

A serious programmer and a rebellious artist clash over a school project. Their animosity keeps escalating to new extremes, defined by petty pranks and feisty arguments.

Viki

3. Love Tractor farm setting; farmer/city musician

Sunyeol, a city man with zero ability to survive in the countryside, comes to his grandfather's rural home. In front of him appears Yechan, a passionate and kind young farmer. While learning about rural life and assisting with farming tasks, Sunyeol gradually finds himself drawn to Yechan's warm and straightforward nature, while Yechan helplessly falls for Sunyeol.

iQIYI

4. Our Dating Sim high school friends to lovers; office setting

After 7 years, Lee Wan meets his first love, Shin Kitae, in a gaming company. When they were best friends in high school, Lee Wan was in love with Kitae. But he ran away and disappeared after confessing his feelings to Kitae after graduation. When the two of them begin working on a new dating simulation game and get more immersed in the project, old feelings are rekindled.

Viki or GagaOOLala

5. She Makes My Heart Flutter wlw; bar setting; niece and aunt dynamic

The extroverted Gang Seol is hired by her aunt Jung at her only-women bar. Even though they are both lesbians, they seem to be worlds apart and have very different love stories.

YouTube

6. The New Employee office setting; boss/intern

Excited to be interning at a successful advertising company, Seunghyun’s enthusiasm is curbed almost immediately when he meets his incredibly handsome, yet unbelievably cold boss on the first day of work.

Viki

7. Light On Me love triangle; high school setting

One day Tae Kyung, a high school loner, starts questioning his own judgment about human relationships and gets advise from a teacher to join the school's student council. He meets the Vice President of the council, Shin Woo, who is somewhat cold toward him. However, he also meets the super-attractive President of the council: Da On, who appears to take an instant shine to him. The beginnings of a romance appear to be in the cards for Da On and Tae Kyung, but Shin Woo does not seem to approve.

Viki

8. The Eighth Sense university setting; trauma; surfing

Ji Hyun, a new student from a peaceful rural town, struggles to adjust to the bustling city life of Seoul. He meets a senior student Jae Won, who has just completed military service. Ji Hyun joins Jae Won’s surfing club and they begin to develop feelings for each other.

Viki

9. Sing My Crush best friends to lovers; musicians

Baram learned from the painful failure of his first love that he should be cautious with his feelings. During his high school days, he met Hantae in a disastrous first encounter. But then the two strike up an unlikely and close friendship in the aftermath. Baram becomes a part of a band, while Hantae is his manager. Years later, will Baram be able to keep his crush on Hantae a secret any longer?

iQIYI

10. Love Class 2 university setting; love class; TA/student; best friends to lovers

Love story of 3 couples: - Cheerful and optimistic Lee Hyun starts following cold and aloof tutor Kim An around like a puppy. - Joo Hyuk is an older student who has a thing for his university's teaching assistant Sung Min. - Student Min Woo is stuck in a confusing romantic situation: he has a secret crush on his best friend Ma Roo.

Viki or GagaOOLala

11. Bon Appetit neighbours; secret crush; food

Doohoon, a dedicated marketing manager, finds his life monotonous, filled with nothing but work. However, his new neighbor, chef Yoonsoo, seems dedicated to transforming Dohoon's lonely days around.

iQIYI

12. Unintentional Love Story rural setting; pottery; slow burn; secret agenda

Ceramic artist Yoon Taejoon disappears from society, while Ji Wonyoung is an employee who was dismissed from a large company. Ji Wonyoung is intent on winning over the heart of Yoon Taejoon in order to get his job back as Wonyoung is the company chairman's favorite artist.

iQIYI

13. Choco Milk Shake animals turned to humans; roommates

One day, two handsome strangers enter Jung Woo's house and claim they are Choco and Milk, the reincarnation of his childhood pets, a dog and a cat. The arrival of the two embarks on a new beginning and the quest to discover love.

YouTube

14. Tinted With You hinted at polyamorous trio; period drama; time travel

A high school student gets magically transported to the feudal period. Confused by his surroundings, he encounters a banished prince and his devoted bodyguard. The three characters live together and fall in love.

Viki

15. Blueming coming of age; university setting

Cha Siwon, a college freshman majoring in film studies, does a lot to maintain his image because of his past life of unpopularity. He meets Hyeong Dawoon, a classmate of his with perfect looks, good grades, and everything at his fingertips. Siwon’s feelings of wariness for his classmate soon change into something else.

iQIYI

16. All the Liquors chef/foodie; food

Han Jiyu is an employee on the marketing team of a liquor company. Park Kihoon is a skillful chef and an owner of a famous restaurant. When Jiyu is asked to contact Kihoon’s restaurant in search of potential collaboration, he runs up against a few walls—namely, Kihoon’s flat-out refusal to sell any alcoholic drinks in his restaurant. But Jiyu is not ready to just give up.

Viki or GagaOOLala

17. Mr. Heart sports; university setting

Jin Won is a university freshman who has a talent for running marathons. Sang Ha maintains a smile despite his difficult environment. A romance drama about the love and friendship between a rising marathon star and his new pacemaker.

Viki

18. Cherry Blossoms After Winter secret crush; high school setting

Ever since his parents passed away, Haebom has been living in Taesung’s house. And now, being a 12th grader, he enters the same class as Taesung, which makes the whole situation way more awkward. Living together 24/7, Taesung and Haebom's relationship is bound to change.

Viki

19. Jun & Jun office setting; childhood friends; boss/intern

Lee Jun becomes an intern at a cosmetics firm. Here he is reunited with his childhood best friend – a highly talented (but also highly flirtatious!) general manager named Choi Jun.

Viki

20. Kissable Lips vampire/human; university setting; unhappy ending

A campus romance between Jun Ho, a vampire who is walking the path of extinction, and Min Hyun, a human with pure blood.

Viki

21. You Make Me Dance dancing; loan shark/debtee

The story of Song Shi On who is an aspiring contemporary dancer with a broken heart because he is not receiving love from his family and of Jin HongSeok, once a keen pianist, who has given up on his dreams to pursue a lucrative but unfulfilling career of a loan shark. But spending time with Shi On changes his perspective on life, and the duo forms a close bond.

Viki

22. To My Star celebrity/chef

Actor Kang Seo Joon was once one of South Korea's biggest and most popular stars, but after he's rocked by a public scandal he goes into hiding. In his hideout, he gets acquainted with his new roommate, a young chef who leads a modest, unassuming life. Despite having wildly different personalities, the two begin on a relationship.

Viki (S1) & Viki (S2)

23. A Breeze of Love high school friends to lovers; sports; insomnia; university setting

Do Hyun, the captain of the basketball team, is preparing for the championship. The team manager brings Dong Wook, Do Hyun's first love, to fill in for an injured teammate. Dong Wook has insomnia and can only sleep well when he is with Do Hyun.

iQIYI

24. Bump Up Business real idols as the show’s actors; idol romance; music

Eden is about to make his idol debut. His agency pairs him with an experienced idol Jihoon who used to have a scandalous past. Eden is told by the company that their music duo will be doing a Business Gay Performance – they will have a fake romance to attract fans. For the sake of his dream, Eden agrees. What kind of feelings will develop between the two of them? Featuring the members of a real kpop boyband OnlyOneOf.

GagaOOLala

---

You can watch some shows for free on the streaming websites by setting VPN to South Korea. In other cases I recommend paying for subscriptions to show appreciation and support of content in order to get more of it in the future, but if you can’t, watch on KissKH (better quality), Dramacool or get files from MkvDrama. Enjoy! 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

#mygifs #mine #tw flashing lights #korean ql

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novasintheroom · 9 months

Text

048. Sunset

♡ Pairing - Vash x Reader

♡ Word count - 0.8k

♡ Warnings - mention of having future children? Very brief.

Part of the 150 Bullets drabble series on AO3

It’s been a slow traveling day. Not enough double dollars between the two of you to rent a tomas, so you’re left with the two feet you’re born with to get you to the next city.

The worst of the heat is over; the suns are dipping toward the horizon. Here, on one of the numberless sand dunes on No Man’s Land do you stop for a break, a drink of water. And here, while Vash puts the water away and hands you a pack of nuts for snacking, do you stare with a fond longing at a farm.

“When we get old,” you say, because there’s always going to be a ‘we’ with you two; to be together ‘til the stars burn out, “we should get a house like that.” You turn to him with a glint in your eye. “One with a wraparound porch. Lots of space.”

Vash straightens slowly from his sack and looks off at the distant farmhouse, with its small greenhouse domes and tracts of brushed sand. The suns are setting to the west. Everything is bathed in amber, and he squints against the shine of reflecting light through his glasses. It’s small, as far as farms go. Most are these days. With Plants growing healthier and technology being leaked slowly from Home, farms don’t have to settle as close to cities to survive. A sand tractor kicks up dust in the distance, the farmer prepping the ground for hardy plant life meant for deserts.

He feels a smile grow on his lips. A brow raising slowly, he gives you a playful look. “You want to sweep all the sand off the deck all day? ‘Cause that’s what will happen if we get that porch.” He hefts his pack on his shoulder and starts walking again. He knows you’ll follow.

And you do, feet steady on the sand. “Ah, you’re right,” you open the bag of nuts and pop a few in your mouth, savoring the one cranberry in the bunch, “But wouldn’t it be nice to watch the sunrise and sunset after a long day? Just sitting in some rocking chairs. Or one of those hanging benches!”

Vash hums, looking at the farmhouse again. “We could hang up some string lights around it. Have a little space off to the side for a firepit. Roast marshmallows and eat s’mores.”

You grin. “We’d have to have a workshop somewhere, for your arm and whatever else you want to build.”

He glances over his shoulder and gives you that charming smile. “I could build you some bookcases. Have our own library inside somewhere.”

“We’d need one with all the journals we have between us.”

Vash laughs in agreement, then pauses at the crux of the dune. The tractor moves along. He looks at the farmhouse now as if it is your own. “We’d have a master bedroom, and at least three guest bedrooms. For when friends come by for a visit.” He points. "Right there."

You stand by his side. Brushing his hand, you smile at him when he looks down. “There’d be lots of them. We might even have to add a second wing, especially when holidays roll around. Maybe some of them would move in for a bit, then they’d go off to start their own businesses, or their own families.”

“Now it’s starting to sound more like a bed and breakfast place. Or a hotel.”

“Or our own farm! With hired hands that can work the land with us, learn how to care for the Plant we get.”

He gives you a look. “You wouldn’t mind all the people?”

You purse your lips, then shake your head. “I know people’s more your thing, but I think they’d become like family eventually.” You give him a wink and bump his arm with your shoulder. “I’d do it for you.”

And a breath leaves in a slow rush from his lips. He's overcome. You’re golden in the sunset’s light. Beautiful. The perfect match for him. Vash often wonders, if there is a God, if He looked down on his pitiful state and said, ‘Alright, just this once,’ when he sent you. “Maybe…” he swallows and voices the imperfect little hope he has that can never be true, “…we’d have some room for the kids, too.” He looks down shyly, and is grateful for the hood of his coat obscuring his sight a bit.

Your smile only grows, and you hold his hand, leaning into his arm. “…Maybe.” You grin when his ears go red.

A solemn, bittersweet feeling overcomes him, even as he brings you close to hold you. He knows this is all wishful thinking. Two lovers hoping for a better, calmer future together. Something to get you both through the next day. There's a Plant to the east calling out, and he needs to answer it. But he still hopes, staring at that distant farmhouse, that it could come true someday. Somehow, someway, you’d both settle down. Have your own place. Your own family.

He sees a lone figure come out of the house, followed by a smaller one – a child – and his breath leaves him.

You both watch the waning sunset over the house and hope for a brighter tomorrow to find you soon.

#trigun #trigun stampede #vash the stampede #tristamp #writing #reader insert #self insert #vash x reader #nova writes #vash the stampede x reader #trigun x reader

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deliciousangelfestival · 9 months

Text

Tears In His Ferrari || Chp 4 - B.Barnes

Character: Bucky Barnes x Farmer!Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes, used to a life of luxury, takes on farm challenges in a bet with his father. Mud-stained Ferraris and a rustic farmhouse lead to unexpected personal growth, guided by the stern mentorship of Y/N, a farmer making his city-boy life difficult.

Theme: Fluff, Slice of Life, Heart-Warming.

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more.

Chapters: Chp 1, Chp 2, Chp 3 , Chp 4 , Chp 5 , Chp 6 , Chp 7 ,Chp 8 , Chp 9 , Chp 10 , Chp 11 , Chp 12.

Bucky continued his day, the camera capturing every step of his farm journey. "Hey, everyone! It's Bucky Barnes, and today, we're diving into the thrilling world of farm life," he exclaimed to the camera, showcasing the vast expanse of the fields and the tractor humming in the background. He shifted the camera to reveal the small puppy nestled in his lap, earning an "Aww" from his audience.

As Bucky planted the barley seeds meticulously, he shared insights about the process and his challenges. The puppy, seemingly entranced by the rustling leaves and the tractor's rhythmic hum, added charm to the vlog.

With the barley seeds successfully sown, Bucky moved on to the next task—planting potatoes. He mused to the camera, "Now, this is where having an extra pair of hands would really come in handy. Note to self: consider hiring farm help if I ever figure out how to get my bank account back."

The puppy, content in Bucky's lap, became a recurring star in the vlog, eliciting heartwarming comments from viewers. Bucky couldn't help but smile at the positive reactions and the genuine interest his audience showed in his newfound farm companion.

When lunchtime arrived, Bucky parked the tractor and headed home, pondering what to eat. The realization hit him—he couldn't cook. The luxury of having meals prepared or ordering takeout was a distant memory.

Bucky sighed, acknowledging the need to learn basic cooking skills to survive this farm adventure. He decided to keep things simple for now, opting for something that required minimal culinary finesse.

To his surprise, Bucky entered his house, and Y/N's horse was standing near the entrance gate. He couldn't help but chuckle at the unexpected sight, wondering if the horse had decided to be the official guardian of his newfound home.

As he stepped inside, the aroma of home-cooked food wafted through the air. Samantha, Y/N’s mother, placed a food container on his kitchen counter. She greeted him warmly. Bucky, still holding the camera for his vlog, smiled appreciatively.

"Hey, Bucky! We thought you might need a little help in the food department," Samantha said with a friendly tone.

Bucky chuckled, feeling a twinge of guilt. "I appreciate it, but I don't want to be a burden, getting free food all the time."

Samantha waved off his concern. "Oh, don't you worry about that. Your father has taken care of everything. It's the least we can do to help out a neighbor."

Bucky nodded, grateful for the kindness shown by his unexpected neighbors. The support from Y/N's family was becoming a comforting constant in his journey into the unknown world of farming.

Samantha continued, "You're part of this community now, Bucky. We look out for each other. Consider it a warm welcome."

With a sincere smile, Bucky thanked Samantha and decided to capture this heartwarming moment for his vlog.

But Bucky couldn't help but feel embarrassed as Samantha mentioned that his father had taken care of everything. The realization that his father had prepared not only the essentials for him but also arranged for the delicious meals brought a mix of gratitude and a hint of embarrassment.

Bucky gently put the puppy down, who had already awakened from its peaceful slumber. The little furball seemed to be adjusting well to its new surroundings.

With thoughts of taking the puppy to town for essentials and a check-up, Bucky shared his appreciation for the meal. "These are delicious. If I ever own a restaurant, I'd hire you as the chef," he complimented Samantha.

Samantha giggled at the compliment, but then she dropped a surprising revelation. "Thank you, but it wasn't me who made it. It was my daughter Y/N."

Bucky, mid-bite, raised his eyebrows in astonishment. He hadn't expected Y/N to be the culinary mastermind behind the delectable dishes. The realization caught him off guard, and for a moment, he found himself slightly choked on his food, a mixture of surprise and admiration written across his face.

As Y/N entered with a bag of dog food and a small mattress, effortlessly juggling both items, Bucky couldn't help but be impressed by her multitasking skills. She seemed to carry the weight of responsibility effortlessly, efficiently handling practical tasks.

Curious about the puppy, Y/N inquired, "Where's the dog?" Bucky pointed towards the little furball resting under the table.

Y/N gently picked up the puppy and efficiently settled it on the provided mattress. She then gave the dog milk, showcasing a caring side that caught Bucky off guard.

Observing Y/N's nurturing actions, Bucky couldn't help but appreciate her help. Despite her annoyance at being involved in his farming endeavor, she proved genuinely helpful and caring. However, the pleasant atmosphere turned unexpectedly when Y/N dropped the bomb, "Eat quickly, it looks like it's going to rain."

The news of impending rain dampened Bucky's bright mood. The unpredictable weather added a layer of challenge to his farming adventure, and the reality of rural life began to set in.

As Y/N predicted, the rain arrived, interrupting Bucky's progress on planting the crop seeds. Despite not completing the task, he found solace in the fact that the barley seeds he had managed to plant earlier would benefit from the rain, ensuring faster growth.

Feeling a sense of accomplishment, Bucky returned home to refresh himself. The puppy beside him provided a comforting companionship, making him feel less isolated in this rural setting. The soothing sound of rain outside created a calming ambiance.

Embracing the opportunity presented by the weather, Bucky delved into editing the video he had recorded throughout the day. The rhythmic patter of raindrops against the window accompanied his creative process, adding tranquility to the cozy farmhouse atmosphere.

******

The next day, Bucky felt a sense of ease as the rain had ceased, and the sunrise painted the sky. He savored a homemade breakfast of bread topped with butter, mozzarella cheese, and cherry tomatoes—an extra layer of enjoyment derived from the satisfaction of preparing it himself.

His newfound companion, Archie (he gave the name last night), the adorable male puppy, happily wagged his tail as Bucky set down a bowl of milk, cooing at the joyful scene.

Interrupting this peaceful morning, a knock echoed through the farmhouse, prompting Bucky to open the door and discover who awaited on the other side.

‘Knock, knock!’

Bucky opened the door to find a teenager holding a box. The young lad greeted Bucky warmly and extended the box filled with honey.

“Hi, I'm Tobey. I live with my grandparents, and Grandma asked me to bring these to you,” he explained.

Bucky gratefully accepted the gift, acknowledging the teenager's kindness and his grandparents' thoughtfulness.

As the exchange unfolded, a distinctive sound caught their attention—Archie, the puppy, chimed in with an enthusiastic "woof," adding a touch of canine charm to the moment.

Having finished his milk, Archie toddled over to Bucky with his tiny legs.

Bucky bent down, patting Archie gently. "Hey, Archie."

Tobey observed Archie with curiosity. "He looks..."

Setting down the box, Bucky scooped up the puppy and presented him to Tobey. "His name is Archie. I'm grateful I found him on my terrace. His cuteness made me forget my exhausting day."

Tobey's eyes welled with emotion, and Bucky quickly realized that the box he had brought was likely the same one Archie had been placed in.

"I'm sorry," Tobey admitted, his voice tinged with regret. "My grandparents only allow me to have one dog."

Tobey lowered his gaze, speaking softly, "When Archie's mother gave birth, he was the weakest among his siblings. No one wanted to take him."

Bucky questioned, "Why me?"

Tobey scratched his head, explaining, "Because I saw your car. I thought, this person must be rich. I can't afford to have another dog."

As Bucky looked at the teenager, he reflected on his life, where money was never a problem. Toby, on the other hand, had to let go of something he cherished. Bucky reassured him, "It's okay. I consider Archie as part of my family now."

Tobey visibly relaxed. "Thank you, and I'm sorry."

Bucky shook his head. "It's alright."

He allowed Toby to play with Archie whenever he wanted, realizing that it was a win-win situation for both Archie and Toby.

Then Bucky asked, "Do you know how to drive a tractor?"

Toby replied confidently, "Of course. Everyone around my age can drive it."

Bucky was pleasantly surprised. He then offered Toby a job, promising to pay him for assistance. With that, Bucky found someone to help him with the farm work.

Bucky's progress in planting the seeds had become significantly faster with Toby's help. With his easygoing personality, Toby became a popular addition to the video vlogs Bucky regularly created for his followers. Viewers liked the dynamic between the two, and Toby's presence brought a fresh energy to the content.

One day, as Bucky and Toby took a break, Y/N arrived with sandwiches and iced tea. In addition to the refreshments, she handed Bucky a weathered journal book that had once belonged to the farm's former owner. Y/N explained that it was a farm journal, a crucial resource for anyone working the land.

"By the way," Y/N added casually, her eyes fixed on her phone, "you've got cow, lamb, and chicken coming in. They'll be here in two hours."

With that information dropped, she swiftly left again, leaving Bucky and Toby slightly stunned. Bucky, who had just finished planting all the crops, now found himself unprepared for the arrival of livestock.

Bucky grumbled to himself, "What a cold woman."

But Toby interjected, "Y/N is really kind, you know? She's helped my grandparents a few times. She even drove them to the hospital when they needed it. That's why I'm saving up money to buy a car."

Bucky felt a twinge in his heart hearing about Y/N's selflessness. He gave Toby a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "You're a good grandson, looking out for your family like that. If there's anything I can do to help, let me know."

As they continued their conversation, Bucky realized there was more to Y/N than he initially perceived. Her kindness extended beyond the farm and, apparently, reached out to the broader community. Bucky found himself intrigued, and perhaps a bit curious, about the woman who seemed to be more than just a neighbor.

As Bucky flipped through the pages of the journal, he couldn't help but wonder about its history. The name "Jonathan L/N" caught his eye on the first page.

Toby, munching on his sandwich beside Bucky, also glanced at the page. "My grandfather mentioned that this land used to be owned by Y/N's great-great-grandfather."

The realization hit Bucky like a ton of bricks. The farm he was now cultivating once belonged to Y/N's family. Suddenly, her distant demeanor and occasional coldness toward him made sense. The land held sentimental value, and Bucky was now the outsider entrusted with its care. It was a responsibility he hadn't fully grasped until that moment.

Chapters: Chp 1, Chp 2, Chp 3 , Chp 4 , Chp 5 , Chp 6 , Chp 7

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Author Note: Hey everyone! 🌟 Your input means the world to me.

If you've got any cool ideas or prompts, whether for this fluff series or any other series, feel free to share them with me!

Just drop them in my ASK/SEND REQUEST box.

Can't wait to hear your awesome suggestions! 🚀💬

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes au #james bucky buchanan barnes #buckybarnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky #bucky fanfic #bucky x you

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